The In-Famous Romanovs: The Bolsheviks’ Riddle (Part 1)
Researching and writing my recent article ‘The In-Famous Romanovs: One Hundred Years Old Media Bubble’ helped me see the mystery of the disappearance of the Romanovs in a new light. The light in which, perhaps, it has not been seen before.
This specific ‘light’ has been prompted by my favourite ‘whodunnit’ detective genre:
‘A whodunit follows the paradigm of the traditional detective story in the sense that it presents crime as a puzzle to be solved through a chain of questions that the detective poses. A defining feature of the whodunit narrative is the so-called double narrative. Here, one narrative is hidden and gradually revealed while the other is the open narrative, which often transpires in the present time of the story. The former involves the narrative presented to the reader by the author or the actual story as it happened in chronological order, while the latter focuses on the underlying substance or material of the narrative.’ — an excerpt from WIKI
As it happens the double narrative approach is the perfect one when it comes to solving a puzzle of the disappearance of the Romanov Family.
In case of the Romanovs story, the open narrative is the narrative told via the Russian and international press and skilfully revealed or withdrawn information. Tightly intertwined and intersected they present an ever unfolding and ongoing narrative. The narrative that everyone has been following for a century, since July 1918.
The hidden narrative, in contrast to the classical whodunnit genre, stays intentionally hidden. The clues to solving it are there but to do it one must be inquisitive enough to decode them. Interestingly enough, even though the Romanovs puzzle bothers many, few really bother to solve it, preferring to stick with the open narrative.
Let’s have a look at the very beginnings of the two interweaving tales of the Romanovs puzzle.
False Clues of The Open Narrative
The open narrative of the Romanovs puzzle starts with the public ‘confession’ of the crime — the announcement by the Bolsheviks of the ‘execution’ of Nicholas II.
‘Confession’
The ‘confession’ came in the form of a newspaper announcement that appeared on the 19th July 1918 in the newspapers ‘Pravda’(N149) and ‘Izvestia’ (N151), followed by the proclamations distributed in Yekaterinburg and a public announcement made at a workers’ meeting in the city theater on the 21st July 1918, and an article ‘The Execution of the Bloody Tsar’ by G.I. Safarov (1891–1942) in the local newspaper ‘Ural Worker’ on the 23rd July 1918.
The ‘criminals’ who took the blame identified themselves in rather general and collective way — the Presidium of the Regional Council of Workers, Peasants and Red Army Deputies of the Urals.
‘Chairman Comrade Sverdlov announces a message just received via direct line from the Ural Regional Council about the execution of the former Tsar Nikolai Romanov.
In the last days, the capital of the red Urals, Yekaterinburg, was seriously threatened by the approach of Czechoslovak gangs. At the same time, a new conspiracy of counterrevolutionaries was uncovered, the purpose of which was to snatch the crowned executioner from the hands of the Soviet power. In view of all these circumstances, the Presidium of the Ural Regional Council decided to shoot Nikolai Romanov, which was carried out on July 16.’ — an excerpt from the announcement in the newspaper ‘Pravda’ (N149), 19 July 1918
‘The execution of the Romanovs in Yekaterinburg was officially published on July 22. The day before, a report was made at a workers’ meeting in the city theater…’ — an excerpt from ‘The Last Days of The Last Tsar’ by P. M. Bukov, 1926
‘The fact of the execution itself was published in local newspapers on July 23.
In the leading article of the ‘Ural Worker’ for that day, Comrade Safarov, one of the members of the Presidium of the Regional Council, […], wrote: ‘He lived too long, enjoying the mercy of the revolution, this crowned murderer.’ — an excerpt from ‘The Last Days of The Last Tsar’ by P. M. Bukov, 1921
On 24th July 1918, the Bolsheviks retreated, leaving the traces of the publicised ‘confession’ of their crime exposed and available. On 25th July 1918, the Whites and the Czechoslovaks entered Yekaterinburg. As have been envisaged by the Bolsheviks, the Whites picked up on the ‘clues’ and prompted an investigation. However, the instigators of the whole process were not the Whites but the peasants from Koptyaki village who were led to believe a certain narrative which awoke their curiosity and pushed forward the Bolsheviks’ open narrative cart.
The Eventful Non-Event
One of the most ‘striking’ of the misleading ‘clues’ left by the Bolsheviks was the supposed place of getting rid of the evidence of their ‘crime’ — the Ganina Pit near the Koptyaki village. This place played a crucial role in the narrative and needed to be drawn attention to.
This was successfully accomplished by staging a non-existent event near Ganina Pit. Part of it was imposing a restriction on the movement along the Koptyaki road which was used by the Koptyaki peasants to get to Yekaterinburg.
The day for staging this non-event as well as the time were strategically chosen. 17 July 1918 was Wednesday, a market day in Yekaterinburg. The time was around 4–5am new style, as the Bolsheviks brought time 2 hours forward. These early hours of the day ensured that both, peasants who would rise up for mowing and the ones who would go to town, would be able to come across a certain procession of the two carts and the accompanying them armed horsemen.
‘In Yekaterinburg, trading days are on Wednesday and Saturday. I don’t remember now which day exactly, Wednesday or Saturday but soon after St. Peter’s Day [June 29 1918] I was getting ready to go to town with fish.’ — an excerpt from the testimony of the peasant, Stepan Babinov, 44 y.o.
‘Soon after St. Peter’s Day (I can’t remember the day, but it was in the middle of the week) I was going to Yekaterinburg with my mother and wife. We left early, at about 3 o’clock (old time) — 5 o’clock new time.
We were riding in a carriage. I was sitting in front, driving the horses, and my mother and wife were on the seat behind me. We passed the mine and the first turnoff that leads to it, if you go from the Four Brothers.
Then I look — in front of us, there are people riding towards us: armed horsemen, and behind them two carts, the most ordinary ones, each harnessed to two horses, and in the carts, there is something lying, covered with canopies. The carts were moving at a walk pace. In each of them sat one man. Both of them, as it seemed to me, were wearing long jackets, made of soldier’s grey fabric, like workers wear; I did not notice what they had on their heads. I did not make out these people. It only seemed to me that they were simple people, not gentlemen. We did not reach them by about 25 fathoms.
Suddenly, two of the horsemen who were riding in front of the carts (there were several more horsemen besides these) flew up to us and shouted: ‘Turn around.’
They shouted so rudely that I got scared and began to turn the horse around sharply. And my mother turned around. One of them, when he saw this, took out a revolver, pointed it at her and shouted: ‘Don’t look back, citizens, … damn you! Don’t look back!’ My horse was galloping, and they were seeing us off on horseback for about a verst and still shouting: ‘Don’t look back!’’ — an excerpt from the testimony of the peasant, Nikolai Zykov, 24 y.o.
‘I’m sitting in the hut and I see Nikolai Zykov driving back, and he was supposed to go to town that very day. I ask him: ‘What’s wrong with you, Nikolai?’ He shouts at me: ‘Don’t go, Uncle Stepan! There’s an army coming. They’re shooting.’ — an excerpt from the testimony of the peasant Stepan Babinov, 44 y.o.
As was intended, the news about Zykov’s early morning encounter quickly spread and the peasants got worried. Driven by the mix of fear and curiosity the peasants Nikolai Papin, Nikolai Shveikin, Petr Zubritsky, and the white officer in hiding Andrei Sheremetievsky (1890–1923) decided to check what was going on. They set towards Ganina Pit. On approach to it, they came across a Red Army soldier who was ready to answer their questions:
‘I was the first to ask him: ‘Comrade, please tell me what’s going on? All our people are worried. They say, the troops are coming.’ He answered: ‘You see, comrade, the Czechoslovaks have penetrated our front. We came here for reconnaissance. And, by the way, we’re going to have practical training here. Go, calm the people down.’ — an excerpt from the testimony of the peasant Nikolai Papin, 36 y.o.
‘He told us that we couldn’t go any further. The meaning of his prohibition was that we couldn’t go any further along the Koptyaki road, and not along the one he was standing on. We started telling him that we were the peasants from Koptyaki and that we needed to go home, that we had recently passed along this road. The Red Army soldier didn’t particularly protest, apparently having been persuaded by our arguments. Then I asked him what was going on, why had they set up cordons on the road? He told us that they were learning to throw grenades here and that was why they had set up cordons. As if to confirm his words, a grenade exploded right there.’ — an excerpt from the testimony of the white officer, Andrei Sheremetievsky
On 19th July 1918, the day of public ‘confession’ of the crime, another Red Army soldier came to the Koptyaki village and announced that the Koptyaki road was now opened and safe to be used.
‘On Friday [July 19] at about 6 am a mounted Red Army soldier came to us in Koptyaki and announced to the people that they could go to town. My wife went to town on that day. (I myself did not see this mounted Red Army soldier then. Someone told me about it.)’ — an excerpt from the testimony of the peasant Mikhail Babinov, 42 y.o.
All these events form a certain sequence of the Bolsheviks’ open narrative which were carefully planned and executed. This sequence served to draw and, at the same time, deflect public attention. From the local peasants to workers and working class in Yekaterinburg to the upper classes in Moscow. Although, most locals did not buy into the ‘official’ narrative, the Whites did which was as good.
The deflection worked. And worked surprisingly well.
‘A Good Expensive Cross’
The narrative was strengthened further by one of the peasants, Nikolai Papin, who unwittingly played a helping hand to the Bolsheviks. On 27th July 1918, after the departure of the Bolsheviks from Yekaterinburg, he went to town and, while returning home, dropped by the Verh-Isetsk headquarters:
‘After the Czechs took Yekaterinburg, I was in town on my own business. Mikhail Dmitrievich Alferov, his wife Anna Ignatyevna, Marya Varfolomeyevna Logunova, and my sister Pelageya Vasilyevna Podmogina were there with me.
On the way back, I stopped by the headquarters in Verkh-Isetsk and told some man there that the Bolsheviks were doing something near the mine near the Koptyaki road.’ — an excerpt from the testimony of the peasant Nikolai Papin, 36 y.o.
Papin’s enthusiasm went even farther, the same evening he also paid a quick visit to Ganina Pit:
‘There were three of us: me, Alferov and my sister Pelageya. The rest were all waiting for us on the Koptyakovskaya road. […] There is a clay platform near the mine itself. It is of ancient origin. […] So, on this platform, about two fathoms from the mine itself, there was some kind of mound of freshly poured earth. We looked into the large shaft and saw that the water was about 7 arshins away. Some boards were floating in the water and some kind of rope as well. The water was covered with pine branches thrown into the well.
For some reason, it felt creepy. We decided then to later gather together properly and come again. We immediately left without touching anything.’ — an excerpt from the testimony of the peasant Nikolai Papin, 36 y.o.
Next day, on 28th July 1918, Papin gathered a group of peasants, — eight people — took some tools and returned to Ganina Pit where he ‘discovered’ next misleading ‘clue’ of the Bolsheviks’ puzzle:
‘While digging around in the fire, I suddenly noticed some shiny object. I dug it out and saw a good, expensive cross made of precious stones. Well, then I guessed what it was and said: ‘Lads, this is not a simple matter. It looks like they burned Nikolai here.’ Nothing, as it were, I had never heard from anyone about the murder of the Tsar before, but then, as soon as I had found this very cross, various corset tabs, buttons with eagles, various buckles, and had remembered how many days the Bolsheviks worked here and how they guarded this place, everything became clear.’ — an excerpt from the testimony of the peasant Nikolai Papin, 36 y.o.
‘Well, as soon as the cross appeared, Papin Nikolai said: ‘Lads, nothing more, as Nikolai was burned here. This is his, Nikolai’s, cross. And here is the buckle with the coat of arms — it belongs to the Tsesarevich Alexei Nikolaevich.’ I myself don’t understand anything in such things, but Papin is a soldier. He would certainly know, would he? They are educated you know.’ — an excerpt from the testimony of the peasant Gavril Alferov, 44 y.o.
‘Good’ Intentions, and ‘A Good, Beautiful Thing’
The unsolicited as it was enthusiasm of Papin paid off, as on 29th July 1918, a white officer, Dmitry Malinovsky (1893–1972), overheard talks about some items connected to the Imperial Family brought by someone to the headquarters. This someone was Andrei Sheremetievsky (1890–1923) the very white officer in hiding who together with the peasants from the Koptyaki village was inquiring about the restrictions on the Koptyaki road back on 17th July.
Accidentally, or maybe not, on 28th July 1918, Sheremetievsky happened to meet the peasant Alferov who showed him the items found at the Ganina Pit. These items Sheremetievsky immediately took to the headquarters and left them there with the Commandant, Vladimir Arturovich Girsh (1891-?). And that is where Dmitry Malinovsky found them and had a chance to examine the items. The examination of the items and the story told by Andrei Sheremetievsky prompted another spontaneous ‘investigation’:
That same day, I received an official order from the garrison commander Sherikhovsky to conduct an investigation with the participation of the judicial authorities regarding the discovery of these things. For this purpose, we invited the judicial investigator for the most important cases, Nametkin, to the garrison headquarters. The initiative to invite him belonged to me, because he was indicated to me. Nametkin was invited precisely because he was the investigator for the most important cases, and this case was the most important, wasn’t it? […]
All of us went to the judicial investigator Nametkin. He was still sleeping. I asked to wake him up. With two officers, one of whom was Sumarokov, we went to Nametkin. I suggested that he go with us. He again started saying that he could not go with us without the prosecutor’s offer. Then I told him: ‘Now all power is in the hands of the military. Your civil power has not yet been organized. The commander of the garrison demands that you, as an investigator for the most important cases, go with us to where the belongings of the Imperial Family were found.’ He started protesting again. Then I told him that there were 12 of us here, all armed officers, and that we would not ask him twice. He probably understood the hint, got dressed and went. — an excerpt from the testimony of Dmitry Malinovsky (1893–1972)
During the examination of the site by the group another important ‘clue’ was discovered by the peasant Stepan Babinov who was invited to accompany the group:
‘I began to dig around in the fire near the birch and to the side of the fire itself, but still, closer to the fire, I saw something shining, trampled into the ground.
I picked at it with my finger and found a large precious stone. I saw that it was a good thing, and I said: ‘Here, gentlemen, I have found you a good, a very beautiful thing.’
Some military man came up to me and took this thing from me, and said to me: ‘Well, thank you, old man, for not hiding it. You were holding fifty thousand in your hands.’ — an excerpt from the testimony of Stepan Babinov, 44 y.o.
With the ‘clues’ pointing at the Imperial Family, and on the basis of the testimony of F. N. Gorshkov who heard something from someone who had heard it from someone else, on the 30th July 1918, the prosecutor Kutuzov issued an order to A. P. Nametkin to start an official preliminary investigation:
‘On the basis of Article 288 of the Criminal Code, I propose that you begin a preliminary investigation into the murder of the former Sovereign Emperor Nicholas II, based on the elements of a crime provided for in Article 1453 of the Criminal Code.’ — an excerpt from the order N131 by the prosecutor Kutuzov
The rest of the open narrative is well known around the world. Perhaps too well known. Let’s now look at the hidden narrative of this mystery which has always been in the shadows of the open one.
