My AP European History textbook has several first hand accounts of major historical events including the Russian revolution, this is from the memoirs of Maurice Paleologue, a french ambassador, I found it interesting to read not only a first hand account but the account of a foriegner in the midst of the turmoil.
Monday, March 12, 1917
At half-past eight this morning, just as I finished dressing, I heard a strange and prolonged did which seemed to come from the Alexander Bridge. I looked out: there was no one on the bridge, which usually presents such a busy scene. But, almost immediately, a disorderly mob carrying red flags appeared at the end which is on the right bank of the Neva, and a regiment came towards it from the opposite side. It looked as if there would be a violent collision, but on the contrary the two bodies coalesced. The army was fraternizing with revolt.
Shortly afterwards, someone came to tell me that the Volhynian regiment of the Guard had mutinied during the night, killed its officers and was parading the city, calling on the people to take part in the revolution and trying to win over the troops who still remain loyal.
At ten o'clock there was a sharp burst of firing and flames could be seen rising somewhere on the Liteiny Prospekt which is quite close to the embassy. Then silence. Accompanied by my military attache Lieutenant-Colonel Lavergne, I went out to see what was happening. Frightened inhabitants were scattering through the streets. There was indescribable confusion at the corner of the Liteiny. Soldiers were helping civilians erect a barricade. Flames mounted from the Law Courts. The gates of the arsenal burst open with a crash. Suddenly the crack of machine-gun fire split the air: it was the regulars whe had just taken up position near the Nevsky Prospekt. The revolutionaries replied. I had seen enought to have no doubt as to what was coming. Under a hail of bullets I returned totheembassy with Lavergne who had walked calmly and slowly to thehottest corner out of sheer bravado.
About half-past eleven I went to the Ministry for Foreign Affairs, picking up Buchanan [British ambassador] on the way.
I told Pokrovski [Russian foriegn minister] everything that I had just witnessed.
"So it's even more serious than I thought," he said.
But he perserved unruffled composure, flavoured with a touch of scepticism, when he told me of the steps on which the ministers had decided during the night:
"The sitting of the Duma has been prorogued to April and we have sent a telegram to the Emperor, begging him to return at once. With the exception of M. Protopopov, my colleagues and I all thought that a dictatorship should be established without delay; it would be conferred upon some general whose prestige with the army is pretty hight, General Russky for example."
I argued that, judging by what I saw this morning, the loyalty of the army was already too heavily shaken for our hopes of salvation to be based on the use of the "strong hand", and that the immediate appointment of a ministry inspiring confidence in the Duma seemed more essential than ever, as there is not a moment tolose. I reminded Pokrovski that in 1789, 1830, and 1848, three French dynasties were overthrown because they were too late in realizing the significance and strength of the movement against them. I added that in such a grave crisis the representative of allied France had a right to give the Imperial Government advice on a matter of international politics.
Buchanan endorsed my opinion.
Pokrovski replied that he personally shared our views, but that the presence of Protopopov in the Council of Ministers paralyzed action of any kind.
I asked him:
"Is there no on who can open the Emperor's eyes to the real situation?"
He heaved a despairing sigh.
"The Emperor is blind!"
Deep grief was writ large on the face of the honest man and good citizen whose uprightness, patriotism, and disinterestedness I can never sufficiently extol.
