The late Emperor was accused of being a dreamer. Some of his dreams fortunately were realized even in his short lifetime. One of these reminds me forcibly of events I have witnessed myself in Moscow at the outbreak of the European War in August, 1914. It was a beautiful night, warm and brilliant, not only in the physical sense but in the moral sense also. I am sure I am not the only one who will remember it with emotion and gratitude to God. For me, for instance, it had a startling surprise. In driving in one of the beautiful Moscow streets with another Russian woman, a friend of mine, we suddenly heard a shouting crowd, the cause of which was quite unexpected. At first we feared it was a riot—or that these people were in search of drink? I stopped my carriage and asked the reason for this excitement. Some bystanders answered: “They only want to call out the orchestra from a restaurant and make them play the National Hymn.” The orchestra appeared and played “Our God save the Tsar,” while the crowd enthusiastically joined in. It was a bewildering scene and a particular delight to us Slavophils. Involuntarily, almost, we ourselves joined the crowd; for on this day the country was informed that the Emperor had taken the courageous and historic step of declaring Russia the head of the whole Slavonic world—a stupendous undertaking, the parallel to which it is difficult to find in history. Similar scenes occurred daily in various quarters of the town, as, for instance, in front of St. Saviour’s Church in Moscow, where a crowd composed of many thousands was congregated. A priest appeared with a cross, and all the crowd like one man went down on their knees and prayed. This indeed was a scene worthy of Holy Russia!

At Petrograd, it seems the demonstrations were also on a large scale, but naturally had a different character. It may be so: it is well known that whenever the Emperor visited his people and spoke to them, his charming voice always had an exceptionally electrifying effect. One great importance of the Tsar’s declaration was that henceforward all Slavs will naturally feel themselves members of one great family.

History repeats itself, but with a difference. In 1875 a Slav nation was oppressed, threatened with annihilation; and the great Russian heart was moved. In those days our Foreign Office, so foolishly afraid of “wounding the susceptibilities оf Europe,” tried all it could to stop the reckless chivalry of the Russian people. Donations were started by a handful of volunteers, determined as all classes were to sacrifice everything, even life itself, for the sake of their oppressed co-religionists. In that August, thirty-eight years before (1876) Petrograd itself (always more reserved than Moscow), because of the alien element, was fired by an enthusiasm for the cause of the Christian Slavs that daily gathered strength. Gradually it pervaded all the Russian classes, from Prince to peasant. As to the latter class I can remember a touching scene. At that time I, with many others, was collecting for the Red Cross. A very old woman came to me looking nervous and agitated. With trembling hands she began to unfold her handkerchief. I thought it was my duty to interrupt her, supposing that she was about to exhibit some documents establishing her claim for relief. “No, no,” she exclaimed. “I want nothing, on the contrary, I bring you 100 roubles, the savings of all my life, which would have belonged to my boy; but he is killed in the war, and this is my offering for his soul.’’ I may here mention something that was publicly recognized by the late M. Aksakoff, the President of the Slavonic Society, and recorded by Gladstone, Kinglake, Froude, and others. My brother, Nicholas Kiréeff, was the first Russian volunteer: a fact of which my mother and we were all justly proud.

The sympathy of the masses had been evoked by the atrocities committed in the most unspeakable Turkish fashion in the Balkans. That sympathy, however, bore chiefly a religious and political character, and, as in almost all great national movements, our Emperor eagerly identified himself with his people.

And now, in 1914, another great national emotion had swept over millions of people, and the Emperor Nicholas II. with unhesitating rapidity placed himself at the head of the great Slavonic cause; and the spokesman was Nicholas, the Grand Duke and the Commander. This was not a War of greed or vanity. It was not concerned with some violation of her frontiers. It was the result of a deep religious sense of justice embedded in the hearts of the people.

Our Tsar, by coming forward at the critical moment in 1914 at the head of his nation, was carrying out the traditional policy of Russia and her mission in the world.

He held out a beacon of hope to the Slavs incorporated in Germany, whom that country was trying to Germanize with a cruel perseverance. Prussia would not allow the Polish children even to speak their own language to their parents in their own homes. He was reminded of the days-trodden Slavs of Austria, and their sufferings under a rule which had been carrying on an insidious Hapsburg policy in Galicia and Bukovina, and had imprisoned men like Father Naumovitch and many other distinguished men for their devotion to the Eastern Church. I remember a young Montenegrin who once declared in my presence that religious and political oppression in Austria were worse than in Turkey, as it affected the Greek Church, whilst the Moslems only care for their Mahomet and have no propaganda in mind.

In short, all hope for the Slavs of Austria, the Czecho-Slovaks, the Jugo-Slavs, and Poles, rested in Nicholas II. championing their cause.

It is difficult for outsiders to judge Slavonic troubles and Slavonic needs. It is a private family affair, which ought to be left to us to settle.

Moreover, the Emperor had gone even beyond this in espousing the cause of the unfortunate Christians in Armenia. And what is more, Russia proceeded from words to deeds in her glorious offensive in the Caucasus, the capture of Erzerum and the liberation of countless Armenians. It is only too true that those Armenians who were not saved by the brave Russian troops, suffered unspeakable punishments and even death at the hands of the Turk, until yesterday. It is surely well known that whenever Turkey is allowed to use a free hand, she always uses it cruelly and badly in torturing Armenians and Slavs.

Much has been made in certain quarters of the publications of the so-called secret Treaties by the Bolsheviks. Those who would deride the Tsar, and accuse him of desiring a patched-up peace with Germany in order to save the throne and heritage of the Romanoffs, will find little to help them in these pseudo-revelations of the Bolsheviks. And even if they were genuine, what do these documents show? The Emperor Nicholas II. appears therein giving orders to our Minister of Foreign Affairs, M. Sazonoff, to consult the Allies in any question of an international nature; and he never concealed the ideal of the Russian people which had existed in our country since the ninth century, when Prince Sviatosloff was the Russian ruler—namely, the possession by Russia of the sacred Sainte Sophia.

There certainly never was any question of dismemberment of Russia and betrayal of her duties towards her Allies, nor yet repudiating her debts—as long as the Tsar was on the throne. The Emperor never forgot that “L’union fait la force.”

How different, and how far more patriotic and statesmanlike, was his policy in that quarter than that of Prince Gortchakoff, always afraid of the word “Slav.” Yet I remember that one day I asked the Chancellor whether it was he who signed the Berlin Treaty? To which he answered with a youthful vivacity, ‘‘Oh no, not I, it was Nesselrode,” and then, lowering his voice, he added with satisfaction: “But little by little I tore it to pieces.”

Of course not all our diplomatists were as timid as the amiable Chancellor; as a brilliant exception of the other kind, we should never forget Count Nicholas Ignatieff and his outspoken energetic Slavophil sympathies. We must well remember that nothing is further from the eternal than political documents, a fact which, by-the-by, may prove once more that every political fact must be guided by some categorical principles. I am not aware whether what once happened to Prince Bismarck is generally known. One of his opponents in Parliament, hoping to annihilate him, read a long article written by the Prince some years previously, which was diametrically opposed to the principles which he was now advocating. The Prince did not appear in the least disconcerted or embarrassed by this revelation, and simply remarked: “I listened with great interest to the article read by my opponent. It was written by me. No need for me to conceal that fact. I may even say that some years ago nothing could have been more appropriate. But at this moment, no doubt it would be quite out of place.”

The conclusion that might be drawn from this little anecdote is: political documents are only valid, then, when they are surrounded with conditions which cannot be easily effaced.

But the greatest triumph for Nicholas II’s ideal was assured at the beginning of the European War, when, on August 16, 1914, he instructed the Grand Duke Nicholas Nicholaivitch to issue the following manifesto to the Polish population of Russia, Germany, and Austria.

“Poles,—the hour has sounded when the sacred dream of your fathers and grandfathers may be realized. A century and a half has passed since the living body of Poland was torn in pieces, but the soul of the country is not dead. It continues to live, inspired by the hope that there will come for the Polish people an hour of resurrection and of fraternal reconciliation with Great Russia. The Russian Army brings you the solemn news of the reconciliation which obliterates the frontiers dividing the Polish peoples, which it unites conjointly under the sceptre of the Russian Tsar.

“Under this sceptre Poland will be born again, free in her religion and her language. Russian autonomy only expects from you the same respect for the rights of those nationalities to which history has bound you.

“With open heart and brotherly hand Great Russia advances to meet you. She believes that the sword, with which she struck down her enemies at “Grunsveld,” is not yet rusted. From the shores of the Pacific to the North Sea the Russian armies are marching. The dawn is seen, the sign of the Cross, the symbol of suffering and of the resurrection of peoples.”

To this may be added the Grand Duke’s appeal to the Russian inhabitants of Galicia (but what about the fate of unhappy Armenia—when will that be settled?):

“Brothers,—a judgment of God is being wrought. With Christian patience and self annihilation the Russian people of Galicia languished for centuries under a foreign yoke, but neither flattery nor persecutions could break in it the hope of liberty. As the tempestuous torrent breaks the rocks to join the sea, so there exists no force which can arrest the Russian people in its onrush towards unification. Let there be no longer a subjugated Poland. Let the country which forms the heritage of Saint Vladimir throw off the foreign yoke and raise the banner of United Russia, an indivisible land. May the providence of God who has blessed the work of the great Uniters of the Russian lands be made manifest. May God aid His anointed, the Emperor Nicholas of All the Russias, to complete the work begun by the Grand Duke Ivan Kalita.

‘‘Rise, fraternal Galician Russia, who have suffered so much, to meet the Russian Army for you and your brothers, who will be delivered. Room will be found for you in the bosom of our Mother Russia, without offending peaceable people of whatever nationality. Raise your sword against the enemy and your hearts towards God with a prayer for Russia and the Russian Tsar.”

The three Polands are now liberated, and have united to assist the world in fighting Bolshevism. Thus the Tsar’s work for the Slavs has borne fruit.