Chapter XVIII: My Friends, the Terrorists

“Terrorism” almost universally misunderstood in America--Terrorism
a philosophy based on logical, intelligent, dispassionate
reasoning--Exceptional incidents that merely prove the
rule--Relation of terrorists to the whole revolutionary
movement--Differentiation of the several leading revolutionary
parties--Thoughtful and humane methods of recent
terrorists--Capture of “The Bear”--Two girl terrorists executed at
Kronstadt--The daring Maximalists--“Flying Bands”--Rigid morals of
terrorists--Total abstainers--Personnel of the Maximalists--A
famous “expropriation”--Plot on the Duma--Bomb in the home of Prime
Minister Stolypin--The most daring plot of all.

My interview with Marie Spiradonova on the eve of her deportation to Siberia led to my meeting a good many terrorists. A Moscow newspaper made so bold as to print a short account of my experience in the Tamboff prison and the entire edition of the journal was confiscated by the police. A week or two later, in St. Petersburg, Professor Paul Miliukoff’s paper, the “Retsch,” the official organ of the Constitutional Democratic Party, published one or two of the photographs of Marie that Luboshitz had taken on the occasion of our visit, and the police descended upon it. Some one, unknown to me, procured one of these newspaper reprints and used it for an edition of Marie Spiradonova postcards. A Moscow book-shop placed these cards on sale and the police permanently closed the shop--after taking all of the cards. These and other incidents which developed out of the Tamboff visit seemed to offer a guarantee to the members of the Extreme Left that I was trustworthy. I may have been needlessly reckless, perhaps, in the way I availed myself of the opportunities presented through this chance means, for nowhere in the world to-day is playing with fire apt to lead to deeper burns.

I need look back over only as many months as I can count on my fingers to realize the appalling price these daring men and women of the skirmish line of the revolution pay for devotion to their ideals of a free Russia. Some died where they stood when they cast their one blow for Russia; some died, blindfolded, bullet-riddled, as the dawn wind blew fresh across the fortress courtyard; others swung ignominiously from a hangman’s scaffold, the sunlight and the wide, blue sky shut away from their last vision by a hood of black; at least two checkmated their captors and laughingly claimed their heritage of death by their own hands; several lie in living death in the far north; several rot in pestiferous prisons; a handful are in voluntary exile abroad--dreaming, planning, watching for the moment when they may most effectively return to the fight.

Terrorism and assassination are the monumental bugbears--in America. Of all the complexities of the Russian situation, nothing is so little understood, so frequently--I might almost say so universally--misunderstood in America as terrorism. Terrorism in America means “anarchy,” and that suggests Haymarket riots or Czolgosz fanaticism--both of which are entirely outside the pale of terrorism as it is understood in Russia. Terrorism is a philosophy and a policy, rather than the impulsive action of human passions. It is true, of course, in individual cases, that the father or husband of an outraged girl will seek reprisal himself when hopeless of lawful aid, but cases of individual revenge have nothing in common with terrorism properly so-called.

Incidental to the terrorism of political origin is a certain amount of assassination worthy of mention. I mean assassination resulting from specific acts of military or administrative officials. For example, last year a number of women teachers in the Caucasus met to confer upon educational methods, and to lay out a plan for an improved curriculum. The government disapproved of their taking so much upon themselves, and sent Cossacks to break up the meeting. Not content with dispersing it, the colonel of the Cossacks said to his soldiers: “These women are yours.” The Cossacks then outraged all the teachers. Neither the colonel nor any of his men were punished. It is not difficult to understand how the friends and near ones of these young women felt toward the colonel who was responsible. It is not to be wondered at if some one--a father, a brother, a lover, or perhaps one of the dishonored women--took up bomb or revolver in retaliation. What would American fathers, or brothers, or lovers, do under like circumstances?

So long as the Russian government and the military and police authorities encourage massacres, and do not rebuke such enormities as these, absolutism will continue to be tempered by assassination. Under such pressure as this the strongest wall of reason, the finest ideals of manhood, fall away, and the impulse of the moment becomes not merely the supreme, but the only dynamic of life.

Terrorism, however, does not rest on a mere personal basis. These incidents--to which might easily be added a vast number--simply account for the picking off of a man here and there, usually a man of subordinate rank.

The terrorists of the revolution bear precisely the same relation to the movement as a whole as sharp-shooters bear to a regular army. No military officer ever advocated turning a whole army into scouts and sharp-shooters, and no revolutionist I ever talked with desired turning the revolutionary movement into a vast terroristic organization. But as an auxiliary agency the fighting organization has its work, just as distinct and as important as the work of the military organization.

The Russian revolutionary parties, properly so-called, are two--the Social Democratic Party and the Social Revolutionist Party. The former is a Marxian socialist party, dominated by German thought, and influenced even to its working methods by German ideals. More and more the Social Democrats are tending toward the doctrinaire. They aim to keep in step with the international socialist movement, and their immediate efforts are all toned and tempered by their ultimate program, which is the establishment of a socialistic state in Russia, to supersede autocracy, as soon as the rank and file of the people are sufficiently instructed in the nationalistic principles which underlie their philosophy. Active fighting and insurrection with the Social Democrats is now only occasional, and is determined by peculiar local conditions.

The Social Revolutionists, on the other hand, are an out-and-out revolutionary organization in the usually accepted sense. This party believes in barricade fighting when circumstances seem propitious. At all times its propaganda encourages preparation for armed revolts, and instils the belief that it is through insurrection that the balance of power will eventually be wrested from the bureaucracy. While indorsing insurrection, the Social Revolutionists find that there are long periods when active revolt is inexpedient, when the people are for the moment exhausted, their resources drained, their spirits dampened by the cruel reaction such as characterized the period of M. Stolypin’s ministry, from the day of the dissolution of the first Duma. Yet there are always those who chafe under inaction, and who can not cease from the strife so long as life and liberty are spared them. Of such are the Maximalists, an offshoot of the Social Revolutionists, whose exploits thrilled all Russia from time to time during 1906, but whose reckless daring resulted in the almost complete extermination of the party.

Terrorism proper is not a blind, fanatical policy of bloodshed. It is a phase of warfare which can be logically justified even when it can not be sentimentally accepted. Assassination in a country where normal, peaceful conditions prevail can never be justified. But terrorism, as it exists in Russia, rests on the basis that Russia is not only in an abnormal condition, but it is a country seething with internal war. The government maintains its army on a war footing; during the entire year of 1906 at least four fifths of the empire was kept under martial law, military trials and punishments were meted out to ordinary civil offenders, and the men were executed for crimes so petty as stealing less than ten dollars. The Russian government maintains a state of perpetual warfare against its own people, therefore the ethics of a peaceful land do not at all apply to Russia.

Terrorism does not mean reckless and indiscriminate bloodshed. On the contrary, it means the prevention of bloodshed because victims of the red terror are almost without exception tyrants whose lives, and régime, if permitted to continue, would demand the lives of numberless victims falling under their rule. The assassination of a Plehve, a Sergius, a Pavlov, a Luchenovsky, sends a nation to its knees in praise and thanksgiving--I speak, I believe, without exaggeration--because the taking of each one of those lives saved the lives of many innocents who would have fallen under their merciless régime, precisely as hundreds did fall before these pitiless rulers were overtaken by the terror.

Marie Spiradonova was the first terrorist of the present movement whom I met face to face. I have described her charming girlishness, her burning idealism, her heroic daring. During the succeeding months I met a good many members of the fighting organization and I think with every one I was impressed with their splendid spirit.

Personally, I do not approve of bombs, save under extraordinary circumstances, but I can understand their vogue in Russia. And this I know, that the terrorist--the assassin of the revolution--usually pays greater heed to safeguarding the bystanders than the government ever does.

The slayer of the Grand Duke Sergius allowed five opportunities for striking his victim to go by, because the Grand Duchess Elizabeth was by his side and her death was not desired.

Zinaida Konoplannikova, who shot General Min at Peterhof in August, sacrificed her own life to save the lives of some children. On a certain morning when the general left his home he was approached by Zinaida, who was accompanied by one comrade. She held a velvet work-bag in one hand. In the bag was a bomb, in her pocket was a Browning revolver; Zinaida meant to do her work well. As she was on the point of passing the general and dropping the bomb two children ran toward her and flung themselves at her skirts. She carefully raised the bag above their heads, and turning to her comrade said: “I can not--the children.” That same afternoon Zinaida waited for General Min near the railroad station. Again she carried the velvet work-bag, and in her pocket the Browning. The station was almost deserted. She determined to use the bomb and attempt escape. The bomb would make sure her victim and occasion enough commotion to perhaps enable her to get away unnoticed. But when the general appeared he was accompanied by his wife and daughter. Like a flash she weighed the choice--the bomb would kill the general and the two women, but perhaps cover her escape. The revolver meant the general’s death and her own and no other. There was no hesitancy. Her hand reached for the Browning, and General Min fell. As soldiers rushed upon her she motioned them back, shouting “Careful! Careful! This is a bomb!” The soldiers hesitated. Zinaida gently put down the bomb, and gave herself up. In the dead of night, September 10, 1906, in the grim and sinister courtyard of the famous Schlüsselburg fortress Zinaida was hanged.

Many times have these “terrorists” shown similar care for the lives of the innocent. At least two or three sacrificed their lives during a Maximalist incident which is described at length in the following chapter, by the insistent daring of the “protecting party” in keeping the crowd of passers-by back from the zone of fire.

The capture of Sokolow, known as “The Bear” (a man whom I knew intimately), on the Nevsky Prospekt in St. Petersburg, was beautifully characteristic. The Bear was five and twenty. He was more than six feet tall, deep-chested, light hair, small light beard, and deep-blue eyes. The Bear was a leader in the Moscow insurrection of December, 1905. A spy who had successfully played the rôle of a revolutionist had arrested a number of the Moscow leaders. Sokolow had quit Moscow immediately after the insurrection and worked only in other places. Sokolow was the soul and spirit of a certain group of the Moscow and St. Petersburg fighting organization. Some of the most daring plots were conceived by him. Now that he is dead there can be no harm in my confessing that it was he who arranged for the blowing up of the ministers in the first Duma, and it was he who forestalled the plan, as I shall describe presently. During the year he had dressed differently than when he lived in Moscow. There he was a workman, wearing a blouse and cap. In St. Petersburg he dressed as a fop, a coxcomb, an exquisite of the court. I knew him well, and was by no means unaffected by his gracious personality, his winning smile, his fine intensity. Ten months had passed since the Moscow affair. So many things had happened during those ten months that Sokolow had ceased to think of any danger from that old affair. One bright afternoon as he was hurrying along the Nevsky a beggar, clad in utter rags, stuck a dirty hand in front of him and whined a pitiful plea--“a copeck, sir, for Christ’s sake!” Sokolow drew out his purse and handed the creature a coin. As he did so, the “beggar,” who was scrutinizing the young man’s features, emitted a shrill whistle and Sokolow was instantly pounced upon by spies. The “beggar” was the old Moscow _provocateur_. A day or two later, Sokolow met the death of a soldier of the revolution.

During the first week in November there were fourteen executions, including two girls, at Kronstadt alone, and all of these had to be shot because no one could be

found to serve as hangman. The convicts in the prisons declined the task even on the promise of their immediate liberty and money. The two girls who were included in this execution were both students of the University of St. Petersburg. They had been convicted of complicity in a conspiracy against a military tribunal at Kronstadt.

The two women were confined in the same cell; they met their fate bravely, and spent a great part of the night in singing. Mamaieff wrote a telegram to her mother, asking her to come to Kronstadt for a last farewell, but the message was not despatched by the authorities.

Venediktoff’s mother, an old seamstress, living at Tamboff, traveled to Kronstadt when her daughter was arrested, but in spite of all entreaties did not succeed in getting an interview with her. Both women refused services of the priest who came to offer last consolations of the church. In her final letter written to her mother, Venediktoff said: “I can hear a noise in the passage, the tramp of soldiers. I am now, perhaps, about to die. Good-by, good-by, my dear mother.”

At 4.30 A.M. the women were informed that they had to leave for the place of execution. They begged that they might be permitted to wear their ordinary clothes and not be compelled to don the white garb of the condemned. Their request was refused. On arriving at the scene of execution they found three of their comrades already there. All the five were bound to stakes, and a party of dragoons advanced toward them. Four of the prisoners fell dead at the first volley. Mamaieff, however, was only wounded in the leg, and by some means managed to drag the bandage from her eyes and gazed at her companions. Then came a second volley. She dropped lifeless, and a few minutes afterward the bodies were thrown into the sea.

Terrorism has a dual aim. On one hand, it aims to remove an oppressor or one whose life and influence are deemed detrimental to a certain cause. On the other hand, it has in view the moral effect upon the successors of the victims, and upon other men similarly situated in positions of power; and upon the world at large.

Most of the famous assassinations of recent years have been carried out by the Social Revolutionists. A special branch of the party, known as the “fighting organization,” executed the sentences of death pronounced upon Plehve, Grand Duke Sergius, Ministers Sipiaguine, Bogoliepoff, General Min, Count Ignatiev, Procuror Pavlov and one or two others of the year 1906. This fighting organization is a carefully organized body of about one hundred, controlled by a central committee. When a victim is selected for death this committee decides upon the best method for attaining the end. There is no drawing of lots to determine who shall do the deed, as is sometimes asserted, but volunteers offer for the service, and are selected according to their fitness, judged by the peculiar circumstances incident to each case. These volunteers are not necessarily members of the fighting organization, and frequently they are not. The work of the fighting organization is one of judgment and direction--judging whose life is injurious to the liberal movement, and selecting the wisest method of carrying out the death sentence.

Auxiliary to the fighting organization are the “flying bands,” or, more truly, “flying individuals,” who work independently of the fighting organization, and carry out their work along individual lines. Such was Marie Spiradonova.

The Maximalists only came into existence when the foregoing terrorists and fighting organizations determined to suspend their activities for a time. This suspension of terroristic activity was announced in December of 1905, and was to continue until the government had definitely shown whether or not it was honest in its promises for reforms and liberties, made in October, at the time a constitution was granted. The period of elections and the Duma were to decide this great question which at that time was in the hearts and minds and on the lips of every one in Russia. It was a magnificent opportunity for the revolutionary parties to show their magnanimity. The government was stoutly promising to allow the representatives of the people in the Duma to inaugurate agrarian and personal liberty reforms.

The Social Revolutionists said frankly that they did not believe these promises. Nevertheless they were ready to give the government every opportunity to prove that it had undergone a change of heart. The party, therefore, gave out that pending these first months of trial of the government under a constitution they would refrain from all acts of terrorism. They declared that they would not cease from active propaganda work during that time, but that the fighting organization would remain inactive. This announcement was made in late December at a conference of the party held in Finland. It was indorsed by a majority of the representatives of the party at the conference. A small but effective minority protested this decision, and in the end their disagreement resulted in a party split. The more forward ones were dubbed “Maximalists” because they declared for the maximum and maintained that so long as the government continued to look upon the situation in the country as a war time, so long the maximum fighting powers of the people should be kept continually mobilized and in use, even to the employment of the maximum of terror. This group realized that from the outset they were strong enough to embarrass the forces of czarism, and so they began their activity as a separate “party” with enthusiasm and confidence. The more conservative majority were forced to accept the name foisted upon them of “minimalists,” indicating that they were working for the least, or the minimum.

The Maximalists began operations in early January. There were about seventy in the group, all young, daring men. Individually they were men of character and of personality. Most of them were university men. In their personal habits of life some were as rigid as ascetics. In this respect they are not unlike many ardent revolutionists who are abstemious in some things to the point of fanaticism. I have heard revolutionists denouncing all alcohol, even light beer, with as much vehemence as a Women’s Christian Temperance Union lecturer. With them it is a clear, straight-forward, practical proposition. Alcohol unsettles the judgment, strains the nervous system unduly, and in their eyes is an influence which retards progress. Beer tends to make all of life seem rosy and comfortable. Since discontent is the soul of revolution, many of the devoted revolutionists, including many of the Maximalists, hate and fear all liquor as the ministers dread bombs.

Among the original seventy of the Maximalists were a few women. Since then the number of women has increased, and time has shown that some of the boldest and most dashing plays have been made by the women.

Moscow was only just recuperating from nine days of barricade fighting, machine gun and artillery fire, when the Maximalists began that series of raids which won them a reputation unparalleled in Russia and comparable to DeWet’s boldness in South Africa and our own Morgan, “The Raider.”

At the outset, while the group were shaping together, they confined their efforts to comparatively modest plans. They entered state spirit-shops and carried away the government receipts. Sometimes they thus held up several state establishments in a single day. Then they organized riots and tried in various ways to incite the mob to insurrection at such times when armed uprisings, even of a petty character, were a menace to the authorities. When a clash occurred between the military or police authorities and the populace, the Maximalists endeavored to assume the leadership of the crowd. In the hope of a general uprising at some future time the Maximalists deliberately set about training themselves for emergency action.

During February opportunities for this kind of work grew fewer, but the “confiscating” of government funds became their daily program. During these early weeks none of the Maximalists were ever caught. They worked openly, in broad daylight, and through sheer boldness invariably got safely away. In March came their first big affair. Twenty of them entered a Moscow bank in the heart of the city one forenoon, and while some of the party covered the directors and clerks with revolvers, others packed up eight hundred thousand rubles and the whole party withdrew. Not a trace was found of any of the men at that time, nor any of the money recovered, save a small sum which fell into the hands of the authorities some time later through an accident.

The circumstances of this incident were most dramatic. Two features of the raid created wide-spread comment: one of the band upon entering the bank had taken his stand by the telephone, and all the while the money was being packed up he continued to receive all messages coming over the wire as if he were the regularly employed telephone clerk. The other incident betrayed the “gentlemanliness” of the robbers. One of the Maximalist group covered the directors’ room although there were several officials in the room at the time. One of the directors fainted in his chair, through fright, whereupon the Maximalist who commanded the situation told two of the others present to lay the fainting official on a lounge, and then directed one of them to fetch a glass of water from the next room!

The coolness with which this robbery was carried out excited the admiration even of those who scoffed at the idea that this money was for revolutionary purposes. This was perfectly true, nevertheless, for among the twenty who executed this raid were men of independent means, who declined to use any of this money for their actual personal expenses. Contributions were generously offered to different revolutionary organizations. At the time only a part was kept in the hands of the party for current expenses, and this was divided into many parts and given over for safe keeping into the hands of different members of the group. One, a student, had several thousand rubles in his keeping. He was one of the poor ones, a peasant’s son. Toward the end of the spring he used some of this money to pay his tuition at the technical school where he was studying. He did it openly, and frankly told his comrades that he had “borrowed” the money, a trifling sum, for this purpose. The action created so much adverse comment in the party that it was agreed that no one would ever again use party money for a personal need.

An accident led to the restoration of a portion of this stolen money. At the last moment before the raid one more man was declared necessary. A young Moscow man named Belentzoff, not a member of the Maximalist group, but known to most of the members, was asked to join the raiders. He had courage and boldness, and these were the qualities needed. Belentzoff was assigned to a particular post. He was not to touch the money, but merely to guard a certain passage. To the surprise of the men assigned to gathering the funds, Belentzoff suddenly began to pack up some of the money. The leader of the party was disinclined to reveal to the bank men that there was the slightest discord in the group, so he permitted Belentzoff to continue handling the money. Having acquired all of the money in the bank, the party disappeared, to meet two days later at an appointed place. All appeared save Belentzoff. He was next heard from in Switzerland, whither he had fled with his part of the money, but unfortunately he was not a man of the same class as the others, as he had yielded to the temptation of drink. While under the influence of liquor he had disclosed his identity and told the story of the raid. The police captured him, and in due time he was extradited to Russia. As the train which was conveying Belentzoff to St. Petersburg neared the capital, the prisoner mysteriously disappeared. The soldiers who had him in charge declared he had jumped through the window, and in evidence pointed to a demolished window pane. The train was stopped and a tremendous search instituted, but to no end. Belentzoff was not found.

The explanation is entirely worthy of the Maximalists. Convinced that Belentzoff in the hands of the authorities was dangerous to the whole party, the Maximalists determined to rescue him. At Vilna several of them boarded the train which carried their whilom comrade. A disguise in the form of an officer’s uniform, with necessary facial disguises, was left in the wash-room of the car in which Belentzoff was held prisoner. In some incredible way Belentzoff succeeded in making a lightning change of costume in the wash-room, and as an officer of the Czar took his place in the train as a passenger. I fancy there was a bottle of vodka connected with this incident, for otherwise it would have been difficult to have hoodwinked the soldiers. Belentzoff sat in the train while the woods and fields were being scoured for him, then traveled by the same train to St. Petersburg. That night he made good his escape into Finland.

In the meantime the bulk of the money had been handed over to the “cashier,” a man of reputation and position. During the days when the police were searching most vigorously for it, the money remained in the home of this man. A few weeks afterward 200,000 rubles of this money was deposited in the very bank from which it was stolen, and during the succeeding months interest was paid upon it, until it was eventually needed in the work!

The first reverse of a serious nature occurred to the Maximalists a few weeks after this successful bank-scoop. The police, baffled on every hand in their efforts to capture the band, resorted to the old-time successful method of an _agent provocateur_. Of the original seventy some ten had now paid the penalty of their reckless daring. So well did the _agent provocateur_ do his work that forty-five of the remaining sixty were lodged behind prison bars. Some are still under arrest. Others finally were freed through lack of evidence, while others made bold and successful escapes.

The ideas that the Maximalists stood for were now beginning to be understood, and in spite of this

M. Stolypin was in this room when the bomb exploded. Twenty-eight persons were killed and a score more wounded, but he was uninjured]

tremendous set-back the party began suddenly to grow and develop fresh strength. Young blood from different parts of the country offered their services to the Maximalists. They were prepared to perform any commission that would be a blow against the government. The government was still in sore need for money as the new foreign loan had not then been negotiated, and so it seemed that the confiscation of government funds from every possible source was a most effective way of worrying the administration. Also, these robberies following one upon another in rapid succession, continuing for weeks, demonstrated to the world the weakness of the government in regard to its police administration, and helped to increase the feeling abroad of the government’s powerlessness. At the same time the revolution was in sad straits for money. The government had sent expeditions everywhere to disarm the people. To re-arm half of Russia every now and again is a huge task, and terribly costly; therefore, this policy of the Maximalists was practical revolutionary service (however one may regard it ethically), inasmuch as it was embarrassing to the government.

The next big plot was arranged in June. It was to blow up the ministers in the Duma. This plot has never before been disclosed, but I can vouch for its authenticity. Indeed I was conversant with the details of the plan from the day it was concocted.

The Duma had asked the ministers to resign. The Duma had gone further--it had demanded that the ministry resign. When any minister appeared in the Duma tribunal to speak, he was hissed and hooted. Yet there was no word of demission. The Maximalists then said: “As an auxiliary body it is now our duty to impress upon the whole world that the word of the Duma must be obeyed. The Duma is the people. When the Duma cries to the ministers: ‘Resign’! that cry must be understood as coming from the country at large. Since they do not resign of their own will, the Maximalists will undertake to coerce them.”

The plan finally adopted was to teach all of the ministers of autocracy a grand lesson by blowing up as many of the ministers as could be caught together in an accessible place. At that time the ministers were frequenting the Duma. It was not unusual for five and six ministers and assistant ministers to gather in the ministerial box of an afternoon to listen to the people’s chosen representatives proclaiming diatribes against the wicked administration.

The Maximalists procured plans of the Duma, found a means of access through forged tickets carefully copied from an original ticket of admission, and the men who were to take part in the plot were all chosen. There were to be six men with bombs besides a “covering group.” Three of the six were to throw their bombs simultaneously, while the other three were to loiter in the background to watch the effect of the first fire. If any of the first three failed to explode, or if the damage done seemed insufficient, the others were to throw their packets of death and destruction. When this plan was about to be executed, the question arose among some of the members of the Maximalist group: is it wise to have this thing in the Duma? Will it not react unfavorably upon the Duma itself? Opinion was divided. In spite of these questionings, however, the plot would undoubtedly have been carried out as planned, in the Duma, had not a very curious chance intervened.

The men who were to throw the bombs were one afternoon scrutinizing the plans when some one pointed out that the ministerial box was separated from the foreign correspondents’ box only by a narrow aisle. Some, if not all, of the correspondents would thus inevitably be made victims of the explosions. The carefully arranged plot was there and then abandoned on grounds that correspondents were, theoretically at least, non-combatants, and as such must not be exposed to death in this way.

The determination to do away with the ministers, however, was not abandoned at this time, and the question next to be settled was: where else are the ministers sometimes gathered together? Why, in the upper house, or Council of Empire. Therefore plans of that building were obtained, and as there was no press-box in juxtaposition to the ministerial box, it seemed as if the plot would be carried out here. But about that time the dissolution of the Duma--early in July--caused a suspension of the sittings of the Council of Empire, and thereby was this plan of the Maximalists frustrated.

The sanguinary mutinies at Sveaborg and Kronstadt, which followed the dissolution of the Duma, were encouraged by Maximalists and among the “agitators” captured at both places were members of this fighting group. Wherever there is a fighting line, there are sure to be Maximalists.

The bomb incident in the home of M. Stolypin early in the autumn, which cost a score of lives and wounded twoscore others, was the work of Maximalists.

The last week in October was marked by the most daring coup ever planned by the Maximalists. It was in connection with this episode that I came nearest to the heart of this form of terroristic activity.