The capture of the Winter Palace is considered the starting point of the October Revolution of 1917. In Soviet history textbooks, this event is covered with an aura of heroism. And, of course, there are many myths surrounding it. How did it all really happen?

Who defended Winter?

By October 1917, the Winter Palace housed the residence of the Provisional Government and a soldier's hospital named after Tsarevich Alexei.

On the morning of October 25, the Petrograd Bolsheviks occupied the buildings of the telegraph, telephone exchange, state bank, as well as train stations, the main power station and food warehouses.

At about 11 o'clock in the afternoon, Kerensky left Petrograd by car and went to Gatchina, without leaving any instructions to the government. The fact that he fled from Zimny, dressed in a woman’s dress, is nothing more than a myth. He left completely openly and in his own clothes.

Civilian Minister N.M. was hastily appointed as Special Commissioner for Petrograd. Kishkina. All hope was that troops would arrive from the front. In addition, there was no ammunition or food. There was even nothing to feed the cadets of the Peterhof and Oranienbaum schools - the main defenders of the palace.

In the first half of the day they were joined by a women's shock battalion, a battery of the Mikhailovsky Artillery School, a school of engineering warrant officers and a Cossack detachment. Volunteers also stepped up. But by evening the ranks of the Winter Palace defenders had thinned significantly, as the government behaved very passively and was virtually inactive, limiting itself to vague appeals. The ministers found themselves isolated—the telephone connection was cut off.

At half past six, scooter riders from the Peter and Paul Fortress arrived on Palace Square, bringing an ultimatum signed by Antonov-Ovseenko. In it, the Provisional Government, on behalf of the Military Revolutionary Committee, was asked to surrender under threat of fire.

The ministers refused to enter into negotiations. However, the assault actually began only after several thousand Baltic Fleet sailors from Helsingfors and Kronstadt arrived to help the Bolsheviks. At that time, only 137 shockwomen guarded the Winter Palace women's battalion death, three companies of cadets and a detachment of 40 St. George cavaliers. The number of defenders varied from approximately 500 to 700.

Progress of the assault

The Bolshevik offensive began at 21:40, after a blank shot was fired from the cruiser Aurora. Rifle and machine gun shelling of the palace began. The defenders managed to repulse the first assault attempt. At 11 p.m. the shelling resumed, this time they fired from artillery pieces Petropavlovka.

Meanwhile, it turned out that the rear entrances of the Winter Palace were practically unguarded, and through them a crowd from the square began to filter into the palace. Confusion began, and the defenders could no longer offer serious resistance. The defense commander, Colonel Ananyin, addressed the government with a statement that he was forced to surrender the palace in order to save the lives of its defenders. Arriving at the palace along with a small armed group, Antonov-Ovseyenko was allowed into the Small Dining Room, where the ministers were meeting. They agreed to surrender, but at the same time emphasized that they were forced to do this only by submitting to force... They were immediately arrested and transported in two cars to the Peter and Paul Fortress.

How many victims were there?

According to some sources, only six soldiers and one shock worker from the women’s battalion were killed during the assault. According to others, there were much more victims - at least several dozen. The wounded in the hospital wards, which were located in the main halls overlooking the Neva, suffered the most from the shelling.

But even the Bolsheviks themselves did not subsequently deny the fact of the plunder of the Winter Palace. As American journalist John Reed wrote in his book “Ten Days That Shook the World,” some citizens “... stole and carried away silverware, watches, bedding, mirrors, porcelain vases and stones of average value.” True, within 24 hours the Bolshevik government began to restore order. The Winter Palace building was nationalized and declared a state museum.

One of the myths about the revolution says that the water in the Winter Canal after the assault turned red with blood. But it was not blood, but red wine from the cellars, which the vandals poured there.

In essence, the coup itself was not so bloody. The main tragic events began after him. And, unfortunately, the consequences October revolution turned out to be completely different from what romantically minded supporters of socialist ideas dreamed of...

Chapter 8. Winter Palace in 1917

In 1917, the history of the Winter Palace as the main imperial residence ended. After the difficult period of the Russian Civil War (1917–1922), the Winter Palace was transformed from a residence into a museum. It was a difficult and even painful process, because until the second half of the 1940s. two independent structures coexisted in the Winter Palace: the Museum of the Revolution and the State Hermitage.

We will dwell only on the dramatic events of 1917. When unrest swept St. Petersburg at the end of February 1917, the collections of the Winter Palace and the Imperial Hermitage were not subject to a real threat of complete looting, but the servants of the museum and residence experienced several acute moments in the stormy February days. Last director The Imperial Hermitage, Count D.I. Tolstoy recalled that by March 1, 1917, the museum was closed because there was shooting on the streets of St. Petersburg. The security of the Winter Palace and the Imperial Hermitage was then in charge of the palace police chief, Colonel Prince Ratiev, and the palace grenadiers and palace police were under his command. At 10 a.m. on March 1, a representative arrived at the museum. State Duma, who demanded that the security of the Winter Palace and the Hermitage be transferred under his control. The palace police chief refused to do this, but asked the representative of the State Duma to go to the infirmary of the Winter Palace to calm the worried wounded.

On the night of March 2, 1917, drunken soldiers burst into the entrance of the New Hermitage from Millionnaya Street demanding that the machine guns that were allegedly located there be removed from the roof of the Hermitage. It must be said that at that time there were persistent rumors in St. Petersburg about machine guns on many roofs of the city for executions of the insurgent people.

Demonstration on Palace Square. 1917 (On the balcony in front of the Lantern in white coats are the nurses of the palace hospital)

Demonstration on Palace Square

To avoid a repetition of such incidents, on March 2, the Winter Palace and the Imperial Hermitage were guarded by a guard from the 2nd reserve Sapper Battalion. On March 4, 1917, the director of the Hermitage sent an official letter to the new authorities recognizing the Provisional Government.

Parade on Palace Square. March 1917

A.F. Kerensky greets the troops on Palace Square. 1917 (Patients of the palace infirmary are seen in open windows White Hall of the Winter Palace)

The pace at which the new democratic authorities took over the property of the former masters of life is clearly demonstrated by the chronology of events: on March 2, 1917, Nicholas II signed an abdication, becoming a citizen of Romanov; On March 4, 1917, the Provisional Government for the first time addressed the issue of the Romanov property. At the meeting, a decision is made to reassign the “Cabinet of His Majesty” to the Ministry of Finance; On March 5, 1917, by order of the Provisional Government, the Commissariat for the Protection of Artistic Values ​​was formed, headed by State Duma member P. A. Neklyudov and authoritative cultural figures: F. I. Chaliapin, A. M. Gorky, A. N. Benois, K. S. Petrov -Vodkin, M.V. Dobuzhinsky, N.K. Roerich and I.A. Fomin.

On the same day, March 5, 1917, Minister of Justice A.F. Kerensky visited the Winter Palace and announced to all employees “about the latter’s transfer to national ownership.” It was also assumed that all other residences of Nicholas II would share the fate of the Winter Palace. On April 26, 1917, the Commissariat for the Protection of Artistic Values ​​adopted a decision “On the transfer by government agencies for storage to the Winter Palace of all portraits of artistic significance of persons of the reigning house.” This decision marked the beginning of the government's practice of confiscating works of art that belonged to both the royal family and the families of the grand dukes.

Such confiscation practice will be fully included in daily life revolutionary Russia already under the Bolsheviks, and then, in the spring of 1917, the Provisional Government tried to resolve a complex issue by determining where the boundaries of the Romanovs’ personal property lay, and where state property began.

By the end of May 1917, the lawyers of the Provisional Government decided the most difficult question“to differentiate the personal property of Nicholas II and members of his family from State property.” According to the text of this document, it was recognized that the personal jewelry of the family of Nicholas II remained their absolute property. This decision was implemented in that the personal rooms of Nicholas II and Alexandra Feodorovna were thoroughly “cleaned”, removing from them everything more or less valuable. All valuables were sent for storage to the storerooms of the Cameral Department in order to return everything confiscated to the royal family when the political situation stabilized. Some of the valuables were kept in rooms on the third floor of the Winter Palace.

Among other things, a collection of unique jewelry. Nowadays, the most famous of them are the famous “imperial series” Easter eggs, made by masters of the Faberge company.

The immediate reason for the movement of the royal jewels was the growing political instability in Petrograd. The initiator of this action was the head of the Petrograd Palace Administration, Lieutenant General V. A. Komarov. It was he who, on May 10, 1917, sent a note to the commissioner of the Provisional Government “over the former Ministry of the Imperial Court” F.A. Golovin, in which he requested permission to “transfer for safekeeping to the Cameral part of b. E.V.’s office, things of great value located in the premises of the Winter Palace that constitute the property b. Emperor and Empress, according to the attached list." F.A. Golovin, after appropriate consultations, allowed the imperial valuables to be transferred for storage to the Chamber Department of the Cabinet.

The process of moving the valuables stored in Alexandra Feodorovna’s half in the Winter Palace began on May 17, 1917. The jewelry was confiscated by a Commission, which included Carl Gustavovich Faberge himself. He also compiled descriptions of the confiscated jewelry, including those now so famous easter eggs. The jeweler signed the completed inventory as “a former court supplier to Mr. Faberge.” In total, about 300 pieces of jewelry were confiscated from the shelves of the corner display case, including 10 famous eggs by masters from the firm of Faberge. The seized jewelry was packed in one box and sealed with wax seals. This box was kept in the safes of the Cameral Department until mid-September 1917, when the Provisional Government decided to evacuate valuables from St. Petersburg to Moscow.

The decision to begin the evacuation of valuables from the Winter Palace is associated both with the sharp deterioration of the situation on the Russian-German front (the Germans took Riga) and with the next political crisis in Russia, which is commonly called the “Kornilov revolt.” After the suppression of a coup attempt at the end of August 1917 by generals led by Supreme Commander-in-Chief L. G. Kornilov and the beginning of the “Bolshevisation” of the Soviets, the leadership of the Cabinet raised before the Provisional Government the question of the need for an urgent evacuation of all valuables stored in the Cameral Department , from Petrograd to Moscow. The Provisional Government agreed with the arguments of the leadership of the Cameral Department, after which practical preparations began for the evacuation of the valuables of the imperial residence and the Hermitage.

Since the Winter Palace and the Hermitage contained colossal valuables that were impossible to completely remove, an Artistic Historical Commission was formed in June 1917 to select the most valuable works of art.

According to the director of the Hermitage D.I. Tolstoy, “after a long and comprehensive discussion of all issues related to the evacuation, it was decided to distribute all the Hermitage collections in order in order to hurry up with the removal of the most precious ones and put them first.”

September 15, 1917 special train “to load valuable property evacuated from Petrograd to Moscow b. Palace Department" was sent to the freight station of the Nikolaev railway at 8 o'clock in the morning. The evacuated valuables were loaded, and on the night of September 15-16, 1917, a train with carriages filled with imperial treasures set off from Petrograd to Moscow. On the night of September 16-17, 1917, the “golden train” arrived in Moscow, and the jewelry was deposited in the storerooms of the Armory Chamber of the Moscow Kremlin.

The second echelon with palace valuables was sent from Petrograd to Moscow on the night of October 6-7, 1917. The cargo sent included: different watches, candelabra, vases (17 boxes), fireplace decorations, carpets (9 bales), 20 tapestries (10 bags), sculptures and items made of bronze and precious metals up to 200 items (61 boxes), jewelry from the icons of the Chapel of the Savior on the Petrograd side ( 1 box); in a special box there is a corolla and chasuble, decorated precious stones, to the image of the Savior at the original palace of Peter I and things donated to the image of the Savior; albums with drawings and family photographs (5 boxes), for a department of the Hermitage Museum (26 boxes), for the Hermitage library (10 boxes); from the Hermitage archives (10 boxes); in the department of engravings and drawings (10 boxes); several dozen pieces of artistic furniture.

As a result, 134 boxes were sent to the Armory Chamber of the Moscow Kremlin, 56 to the Historical Museum. The carriage with the evacuated property, by order of the head of the Petrograd Palace Administration, Lieutenant General V. A. Komarov, dated October 2, 1917, was accompanied by an employee of the Winter Palace K. Alexandrov and a porter N. Varganov, as well as 7 guards - V. Abramov, A. Kulikov , I. Sedykh, K. Alyabyev, I. Koroteev, P. Rumyantsev, N. Ivanov.

I. I. Brodsky. Portrait of A. F. Kerensky. 1917

On October 16, 1917, the former Ministry of the Court issued an order to urgently evacuate two more carriages with furnishings from the Winter Palace to Moscow. The cargo was prepared, packed in boxes and stored in premises near the Commandant's Entrance of the Winter Palace. The evacuation of the cargo was scheduled for October 26, 1917. However, due to the “assault on Winter”, this cargo was never transported to Moscow. It was these boxes that the American correspondent John Reed stumbled upon when he and a detachment of Red Guards found himself in the Winter Palace.

The beginning of the evacuation of jewelry from the Winter Palace was also due to the fact that in the summer of 1917 the Winter Palace turned into the main residence of the new government. On July 11, 1917, the head of the Provisional Government A.F. Kerensky, having moved to the Winter Palace with all his apparatus and security, turned it into the main “office” of the new “democratic” government.

Even before A.F. Kerensky moved to the Winter Palace, premises began to be prepared for him. All the stylish palace furniture was removed from the second floor of the northwestern risalit, where the halves of Nicholas II and Alexandra Feodorovna were located. Instead, the rooms were equipped with ordinary office tables and chairs taken from the warehouses of the former Palace Department. The walls, upholstered in silk, along with the paintings hung on them, were covered with canvas. Only the office of Nicholas II was preserved as a “memorial” one.

The state living rooms of Alexandra Feodorovna and Nicholas II were “temporary” and used for different purposes. For example, meetings of the Provisional Government were held in the Malachite Living Room, and Kerensky’s deputy was housed in the former Corner Office of the Empress. In the Gothic Library of Nicholas II, Kerensky usually held meetings with the military. On the third floor of the northwestern risalit, in the former chambers Alexandra III, Kerensky’s apartment and part of his apparatus were located.

At that time, many people, regardless of their political beliefs, were extremely annoyed by Kerensky’s move into the Winter Palace. Numerous jokes began to circulate around St. Petersburg about the ambitious “father of Russian democracy” sleeping on the bed of either Alexandra Feodorovna or Alexander III. The former attorney at law immediately began to be called “Alexander IV” or “Alexandra Feodorovna.”

Years later, V.V. Mayakovsky, in his poem “Good,” ridiculed this episode, which was so etched in the memory of his contemporaries:

To the kings

castle

built by Rastrelli.

Kings were born

lived,

were getting old.

Castle

Did not think

about the fidgety shooter, -

I didn't guess

what's in the bed

entrusted to the queens,

will spread out

some kind

attorney at law.

In the same poem there is a mention that in the summer of 1917 Kerensky was written by “both Brodsky and Repin.” I. E. Repin painted A. F. Kerensky from life precisely on the second floor of the northwestern risalit of the Winter Palace, in the office of Nicholas II.

After the head of the Provisional Government moved to the imperial residence, the Winter Palace began to rapidly lose its pompous appearance. This is evidenced by Chief Marshal P. K. Benckendorf, who visited the Winter Palace in the first half of August 1917.

By this time, the new government had already “dismantled” the premises of the palace for its “offices.” For example, Golovin, who oversaw the former Ministry of the Imperial Court, occupied rooms located on the first floor of the northwestern risalit, overlooking the Neva. On the third floor of the Winter Palace, in one of the apartments in the Freylinsky corridor, the “temporaries” settled the “grandmother of the Russian revolution” E.K. Breshko-Breshkovskaya with her secretary.

A. F. Kerensky with his adjutants in the Winter Palace

A. F. Kerensky in the Gothic Library of Nicholas II. 1917

A. F. Kerensky at work in the Gothic Library of Nicholas II. 1917

Meeting of the military cabinet of the minister-chairman in the Gothic Library of Nicholas II. From left to right: V. L. Baranovsky, GA. Yakubovich, B.V. Savinkov, A.F. Kerensky, Prince T.N. Tumanov. 1917

I. E. Repin. Portrait of A. F. Kerensky. 1917

Former Goff Marshal P. K. Benckendorf was shocked by the changes that occurred with the ceremonial appearance of the Winter Palace. First of all, what caught his eye was the dirt and the multitude of people whom it had been absolutely impossible to see in the imperial residence before. Along with the “office ladies,” Kerensky’s guards were brought into the Winter Palace, and she felt very “free” in the historical halls.

These were not selected units guarding Nicholas II, but revolutionary freemen, who believed that the royal residences were simply obliged to suffer “material losses.” Most of the “losses” were simply turned a blind eye. At first these were little things; by inertia they were still given the character of “events.” But the investigation, as a rule, was conducted formally, and the cases ended in vain. In the summer of 1917, attempts by revolutionary freemen to penetrate into the Diamond Room of the Winter Palace were recorded several times. This was already “big”. And “by little things” - the statues in the White Hall of the Winter Palace were decorated with wet towels, caps, jackets, sword belts and coats.

On August 7, 1917, members of the Art Commission told the authorities that “the presence of military units in the historical chambers of the Winter Palace could have the most disastrous consequences.” However, the political realities of that time were such that the Provisional Government decided to strengthen the garrison of the Winter Palace.

White Hall of the Winter Palace. 1917

The premises of the shock workers of the Women's Battalion in the Winter Palace. 1917

Shock troops of the Women's Battalion on Palace Square. October 1917

Armored car and cadets on Palace Square. 1917

Golden living room of Empress Maria Alexandrovna. October 1917

Juncker in the Winter Palace. October 1917

Barricades made of wood in front of the Winter Palace. October 1917

Let us also mention a historical curiosity - the Winter Palace was guarded by Baltic sailors from the cruiser Aurora during the August days of the Kornilov revolt. All this, of course, was fraught with material losses for the residence.

One of the significant episodes in the life of the main imperial residence was the historical night from October 25 to 26, which went down in history as “the storming of the Winter Palace and the arrest of the Provisional Government.” Night episode from the late 1920s. turned into one of the key events of the Great October Socialist Revolution.

In October 1917, the Central Committee of the RSDLP (b) decided to prepare an armed coup in Petrograd. In response, the Provisional Government strengthened the garrison of the Winter Palace. As a result, on October 25 (November 7), 1917, it was possible to concentrate in the Winter Palace: 400 bayonets of the 3rd Peterhof School of Ensigns, 500 bayonets of the 2nd Oranienbaum School, 200 bayonets of the “Women’s Shock Battalion of Death”, up to 200 Don Cossacks, separate cadet and officer groups from the Nikolaev engineering, artillery and other schools, a detachment of the committee of crippled soldiers and St. George's cavaliers, a detachment of students, a battery (6 guns) of the Mikhailovsky artillery school and 4 armored cars.

In total, about 1,800 bayonets, reinforced with machine guns, took part in the defense of the Winter Palace and the Hermitage on October 25. By order of the Battalion Committee, a company of scooter riders (cyclists) was withdrawn from their positions, but by this time the garrison of the Winter Palace had been strengthened by about 300 more bayonets at the expense of a battalion of cadets from the engineering school of warrant officers. However, the number of defenders of the Winter Palace was fluid, since at the time of the assault many of their ranks, including armored cars and artillery, left the residence.

On the night of the storming of the Winter Palace, the cadets and shock troops of the Women's Battalion occupied all the halls of the facade of the second floor of the Winter Palace, from the Alexander Hall to the White Hall and the Golden Living Room. Although the precious parquet floors were covered with canvas, the state rooms of the residence nevertheless took on the appearance of a barracks. Mattresses were thrown on the floor on which the cadets slept, pyramids for rifles were installed in the halls, and machine guns, adapted for firing from the windows of the palace, stood on the tables. Naturally, a stay in the Winter Palace of a huge number of people is very different people could not but lead to material losses and acts of vandalism.

John Reed. 1917

Red Russia. 1917

American journalist John Reed testifies to this. Literally on the eve of the assault, he managed to enter the Winter Palace: “We opened the door. Just outside the door a couple of cadets stood guard. They didn't say anything. At the end of the corridor was a large, richly decorated room with a huge crystal chandelier, and beyond that were many small rooms lined with dark wood. On both sides of the parquet floor lay rows of dirty mattresses and blankets, on which several soldiers could fit. There was dirt all over the floor from cigarette butts, pieces of bread, clothes, empty bottles with the names of expensive French wines. Many soldiers with epaulets of a cadet school moved in a stagnant atmosphere filled with the smell of tobacco smoke and unwashed human bodies. One was holding a bottle of white Burgundy wine, apparently taken from the palace cellars. They looked at us with amazement as we passed from room to room, until we finally entered a row of huge salons, with their long and dirty windows looking out onto the square. The walls were covered with large oil paintings in massive gilded frames, depicting historical military episodes. One painting had a hole cut through the entire top right corner. This whole place was one huge barracks. Machine guns were placed on the window sills. There were columns of guns between the mattresses. We stopped at the window overlooking the square in front of the palace, where three companies of long-robed cadets were lined up under arms, to whom a tall officer was addressing a speech. After a few minutes, the two companies shouted clearly three times and set off at a quick pace across the square, disappearing under the Red Arch.”

The “shock girls” of the women’s battalion under the command of M. L. Bochkareva looked especially colorful against the backdrop of the interiors of the Winter Palace. The 2nd company of the Women's Battalion (137 people) was located directly in the Winter Palace. The ladies were assigned to guard the southeastern wing of the Winter Palace from Palace Square.

One of the participants in the defense of the Winter Palace recalled: “Not without excitement I approached the front of the women lined up. There was something unusual in this sight, and annoying thoughts drilled into my brain: “Provocateurs.” Having commanded “Attention!”, one of the women separated from the right flank and approached me with a report. It was the “commander”. Tall, proportionally built, with the bearing of a dashing guards non-commissioned officer, with a loud, distinct voice, she instantly dispelled my suspicions, and I greeted the battalion. They were dressed as soldiers. High boots, trousers, over which was also thrown a skirt, also of a khaki color, hair tucked under a cap.”

One of the members of the Provisional Government described the Winter Palace on the night of October 25-26, 1917 as follows. Entering the palace through the Saltykovsky entrance, he found himself in “a huge hallway, through the room adjacent to it on the left - a staircase, the entire cage of which along the walls was decorated with tapestries, leads on the second floor into a very wide internal hall - a corridor, with upper dim lighting and galleries upstairs. To the right of the entrance to this hall and corridor, a temporary very high partition was placed, separating the infirmary for wounded soldiers from the left side of the hall. To the left of the entrance from the stairs, at the end of the hall, lay the path to the Malachite Hall, where meetings of the Provisional Government took place, through three halls, the Malachite Hall with all its huge windows overlooking the Neva.

The remaining premises: the office of the Provisional Government and the offices of the Minister-Chairman and his Deputy reached the corner of the palace facing the Nikolaevsky Bridge, and occupied part of the wall along the garden, opposite the Admiralty...

Doomed people, lonely, abandoned by everyone, wandered around in a huge mousetrap, occasionally gathering together or in separate groups for short conversations... “What threatens the palace if the Aurora opens fire?” “It will be turned into a heap of ruins,” answered the admiral Verderevsky, as always, is calm. Only the cheek in the corner of the right eye was twitching. He shrugged his shoulders and corrected right hand collar, again put his hands in his trouser pockets and turned to continue his walk. He stopped for a moment: “It has towers higher than bridges.” Can destroy a palace without damaging a single building. The Winter Palace is conveniently located for this. The sight is good...”

To our proposal to send representatives, we were told that the cadets had already gathered and insisted that the members of the government come to them in full force and tell them what they want from them. It was absolutely impossible to refuse. We went out. The cadets, perhaps a hundred, maybe more, were gathering in that hall-corridor that I already mentioned... By this time we had already left the premises overlooking the Neva and moved into one of the inner chambers Winter Palace. Someone said that this is the former office of Nicholas II. I don't know if this is true. Someone said that General Levitsky occupied this room after the revolution. I also don’t know if it’s true...

The entrance to this room was from the hall-corridor through a much smaller room. Next to the office there was another room with no exit. There was a telephone in it. Both the office and the adjacent room were large sizes. In very large private apartments, in mansions, there are only halls of this size. The windows of the office looked out onto one of the courtyards...

“Since we decided to stay here,” said Admiral Verderevsky, when it began to get dark, “we need to go to some interior room. Here we are under fire." We moved here. There was a large round table in the middle of the room. We settled around it...

The clock hand passed 8 o'clock... We turned off the overhead light. Only on the desk by the window was an electric table lamp, blocked by a sheet of newspaper from the window. There was half light in the room... Silence... Short, quiet phrases of short conversations... We were reported that our guards guarding the palace only responded to shots or shot when the Bolsheviks were approaching the palace... They shot in the air. And this was enough for now: the crowd retreated... Some sat, some lay, some walked, silently stepping on the soft carpet throughout the room... A sound was heard, although muffled, but clearly different from all the others. “What is this?” someone asked. “This is from the Aurora,” answered Verderevsky. His face remained just as calm. About 20 minutes later Palchinsky came in and brought a glass from an exploding shell, a shell that flew through the wall into the Winter Palace. Verderevsky examined it and, placing it on the table, said: “From the Aurora.” The glass was damaged in such a way that it could serve as an ashtray. “An ashtray on the table for our successors,” someone said...

And suddenly a noise arose somewhere and immediately began to grow, spread and get closer. And in its varied sounds, but merged into one wave, something special immediately sounded, not similar to those previous noises - something final. It suddenly became immediately clear that this was the end... Those who were lying or sitting jumped up and everyone grabbed their coats... And the noise kept getting stronger, kept growing and quickly, in a wide wave, rolled towards us... And from it an unbearable anxiety rolled in and overwhelmed us, like a wave of poisoned air... All this in a few minutes... Already front door into the room of our guard - sharp, excited cries of a mass of voices, several separate rare shots, stamping of feet, some knocking, movements, a merged growing single chaos of sounds and ever-growing anxiety... It is clear: this is already an attack, they are taking us by storm... Defense is useless - aimless victims... The door swung open... The cadet jumped up. Stretched out to the front, hands under the visor, face excited, but decisive: “As the Provisional Government orders!” Protect yourself until last person? We are ready if the Provisional Government orders.” - “This is not necessary!” It's pointless! It's clear! No need for blood! We must give up,” we all shouted, without saying a word, but only looking at each other and seeing the same feeling and decision in each other’s eyes. Kishkin came forward. “If they are already here, then that means the palace is already occupied...” - “Busy. All entrances are occupied. Everyone gave up. Only this room is protected. What will the Provisional Government order?” “Tell us that we don’t want bloodshed, that we are yielding to force, that we are surrendering,” said Kishkin. And there, at the door, the anxiety was growing, and it became scary that blood would flow, that we might not have time to prevent it... And we all shouted anxiously: “Go quickly!” Go ahead and say it! We don't want blood! We give up!..“. The cadet came out... The whole scene lasted, I think, no more than a minute... The room was full of people. Soldiers, sailors, Red Guards. All are armed, some are armed to the highest degree: a rifle, two revolvers, a saber, two machine-gun belts... Chudnovsky is appointed commandant of the Winter Palace. The room in which we were arrested will be sealed so that it will not be searched now.”

Storming of the Winter Palace (still from the feature film “October”. Directed by S. Eisenstein)

Aurora salvo

Memorial plaque in the White Dining Room of the Winter Palace

Visitors…

On the night of October 25-26, 1917, the Winter Palace was “taken by storm” by the Bolsheviks and members of the Provisional Government were arrested in the White Dining Room in the imperial half. This is what the marble tablet standing on the fireplace in the White Dining Room of the Winter Palace and the huge iconography of Soviet paintings dedicated to this event remind us of today. Thus, the Winter Palace, having become the “main character” in the historical events of October 1917, entered the history of Russia with a new facet.

It is curious that the director of the Imperial Hermitage, Count D.I. Tolstoy, slept through the historic night in the “Hoff-Fourier” room of the museum “under the flow of machine guns and the rare roar of cannons from the Aurora that was firing at the Palace. Waking up at four o’clock in the morning, I noticed that there was complete silence everywhere.”

It should be emphasized that the “storming” of the Winter Palace, as presented in numerous “revolutionary paintings” and films of the Soviet period, did not actually take place. There was a prolonged rifle and artillery shelling of the palace, followed by its occupation and arrest of members of the last members of the Provisional Government. And the legend of the “assault” was created by the Bolsheviks themselves, when at the turn of the 1920-1930s. The “October Revolution” began to turn into the canonical “Great October Socialist Revolution”. And against such a “political background,” it was somehow inconvenient to talk about six deaths during the “assault.” Therefore, the singer of the revolution V. Mayakovsky wrote with inspiration on the 10th anniversary of the October Revolution:

Every staircase

every ledge

took

stepping over

through the cadets.

As if

with water

the rooms are full,

flowed

merged

over every loss

and contractions

flared up

hotter than midday

behind every sofa,

at each curtain.

To put it mildly, these poetic lines exaggerated the ferocity of the struggle.

It was also “inconvenient” for the “defenders” of the Winter Palace, who inspiredly lied about “piles of corpses,” “screams of the dead,” and “atrocities of the Bolsheviks.” In part, the outright lies of the White Guards were confirmed by Soviet artists; they, following a political order, depicted some kind of universal cataclysm near the walls of the Winter Palace: with searchlights, machine-gun bursts, fierce bayonet attacks from under the arch of the General Staff, grenade explosions and numerous bodies of the dead. The image of a “fierce attack” was canonized by Sergei Eisenstein in his thoroughly mythologized film “October,” released in 1928. Sailors climbing over the swinging main gate of the Winter Palace amid grenade explosions were etched in the memory of entire generations of Soviet people, turning the myth into an unconditional one. historical fact. It should be mentioned that the consultants for the film were direct participants in the events of October 1917. For example, member of the Military Revolutionary Committee N. I. Podvoisky played himself in this film. The filming itself took place directly on Palace Square and in the interiors of the Winter Palace. Consequently, the history of the “fierce assault on the Winter Palace” was formed by the joint efforts of both the “whites” and the “reds”.

Storming of the Winter Palace

How did the Winter Palace “survive” this “assault”? First of all, we note that the Winter Palace was shelled by artillery. They fired at the Winter Palace from artillery guns from several points: firstly, from the beach of the Peter and Paul Fortress, where three 3-inch field guns of the 1867 model (76 mm) were rolled out by hand; secondly, from the Naryshkinsky bastion, where there were four 6-inch guns (152 mm); thirdly, two 3-inch guns fired from the direction of Palace Square. Consequently, 9 guns were involved in the shelling.

Storming of the Winter Palace

Arrest of the Provisional Government

In total, about 40 rounds of live shells were fired at the Winter Palace. Most of the shells were filled with shrapnel. The artillerymen knew very well that in the state halls of the Winter Palace there was a hospital where about 1000 wounded lay. Therefore, they fired mainly at the “royal” northwestern projection of the palace. As a result of the shelling, Alexander III's rooms on the third floor were seriously damaged. The emperor's reception room (corner room) was hit by two shells. Furniture, wall upholstery and glass were damaged. When shelled with shrapnel from the square, the plaster on the porch of the left entrance was damaged, a painting in the hall located above the main gate was torn, and several windows were broken. This was the end of the destruction caused to the Winter Palace by artillery shelling. The cruiser Aurora did not fire live shells at the palace.

Considering the question of the losses that the Winter Palace suffered on the night of October 25-26, 1917, let us turn to numerous eyewitness accounts of the events. In the context of the “White Guard” myths about the complete looting of the Winter Palace, the memoirs of a direct participant in the storming of the Winter Palace, American journalist John Reed, are especially significant. Of no small importance for us is his testimony that one of the columns of the rebels, having burst into the vestibule of the Commandant's entrance of the Winter Palace, found there wooden boxes with valuables that were preparing to be sent to the Armory Chamber of the Moscow Kremlin: “Carried away by a stormy human wave, we ran into the palace through the right entrance, which opened into a huge and empty vaulted room - the basement of the eastern wing, from which a labyrinth of corridors and staircases radiated. There were many boxes here. The Red Guards and soldiers attacked them with fury, smashing them with rifle butts and dragging out carpets, curtains, linen, porcelain and glassware. Someone slung a bronze watch over his shoulder. Someone else found an ostrich feather and stuck it in his hat. But as soon as the robbery began, someone shouted: “Comrades!” Don't touch anything! Don't take anything! This is a national treasure!“. At least twenty voices immediately supported him: “Stop!” Put everything back! Don't take anything! National treasure!“. Dozens of hands reached out to the robbers. Their brocade and tapestries were taken from them. Two people took away the bronze watch. Things were hastily and somehow dumped back into the boxes, where guards stood up on their own. All this was done completely spontaneously. Along the corridors and staircases, shouts fading in the distance could be heard: “Revolutionary discipline!” National treasure!’” Note that the boxes with valuables were supposed to be taken to Moscow on October 26, 1917.

A. Dense. Winter taken

John Reed states that after the Bolsheviks entered the Winter Palace, all the exits were blocked by guards, who not only did not allow anyone into the palace, but also began to push sailors, Red Guards, soldiers and other random public out of the Winter Palace, who wanted one thing - calmly engage in looting. J. Reed writes: “Everyone was expelled from the palace, first searched... a wide variety of objects were confiscated: figurines, bottles of ink, sheets with imperial monograms, candlesticks, miniatures painted in oil paints, paperweights, swords with gold handles, bars of soap, all kinds of clothes, blankets.” As can be seen from the list, robbery, as they say, took place, but hasty, random, when they grabbed both a sword with a gold hilt and a bar of soap. The robbery of the Winter Palace lasted several hours, and mainly the rooms on the second floor of the residence, located along the western, “imperial” facade, were looted.

When the fuss died down, the American journalist, like a professional, could not help but walk around the palace. In the state rooms overlooking the Neva, he saw: “The paintings, statues, curtains and carpets of the huge state apartments were untouched. In the business premises, on the contrary, all the desks and bureaus had been ransacked, and papers were scattered on the floor. The living rooms were also searched, the bedspreads were torn off the beds, the wardrobes were wide open... In one room, where there was a lot of furniture, we found two soldiers tearing embossed Spanish leather from the chairs. They told us they wanted to make boots out of it. The old palace servants in their blue liveries with red and gold trim stood right there, nervously repeating out of old habit: “This way, master, you can’t... it’s forbidden....”

S. Lukin. It's finished

V. A. Polyakov. After the storming of the Winter Palace

The journalist ran into the palace with the first assault columns at two o'clock in the morning, and left it at four o'clock in the morning. The attackers simply did not have time for “mental” robbery. Yes, of course, in October 1917 the Winter Palace suffered losses, but the masterpieces of the Imperial Hermitage, including items from the Treasure Gallery, remained untouched. Let us recall that the valuables of the Diamond Room were evacuated from the Winter Palace to Moscow in mid-September 1917.

It seems that the passages of some modern authors that “seized on the night of October 25-26 by Red Guards, soldiers and sailors, the palace was in the grip of a crowd of hooligan lumpen for three days, who plundered and disfigured a significant part of it interior decoration" are, to put it mildly, an exaggeration. Some “illustrations” of the robbery of a residence by lumpen are also an exaggeration.

Robbery

In addition to the journalistic notes of John Reed, there is also documentary evidence documenting the losses caused to the property of the Winter Palace as a result of its “assault.” Already on October 26, 1917, members of the Artistic and Historical Commission at the Winter Palace, Vereshchagin and Piotrovsky, tried to enter the palace, but were not allowed there by military guards. But on October 27, 1917, members of the Commission, Nadezhdin and Piotrovsky, were summoned by the commandant of the palace to determine the damage caused to the Winter Palace.

Together with the chairman of the commission, Vereshchagin and the librarian V.V. Gelmersen, in the presence of the commissars of the Council of Workers' and Soldiers' Deputies G.S. Yatmanov and B.D. Mandelbaum and the specially invited famous Russian artist A.N. Benois, they inspected the premises of the Winter Palace and the results outlined in the “Journal of the Artistic-Historical Commission at the Winter Palace.”

The destroyed reception room of Alexander II

Office of A. F. Kerensky

Let us note the openness of the Bolsheviks. Not only were cultural figures who had few sympathies with the Bolsheviks involved in the inspection of the residence, but they were also allowed to publish the collected materials. It is quite obvious that the Bolsheviks were interested in this, since all opponents of the new government had been shedding tears for several days over the looted ruins of the Winter Palace.

The examination continued in the following days. Here are extracts from materials published in the “Journal of the Artistic and Historical Commission at the Winter Palace”: “The picture of the defeat appears as follows:

1) In the reception room of Alexander II, occupied by the personal office of A.F. Kerensky, stationery papers are scattered, drawers from desks have been pulled out, office cabinets have been broken; in the classroom, tables, chests of drawers and cabinets were broken into and three boxes prepared for evacuation were opened, and the contents were taken out and looted, some of them scattered in rubble on the floor; the entire floor is strewn with wrapping paper, among which one can see drawings by V. A. Zhukovsky, pieces of silk fabric from Marie Antoinette’s furniture, miniatures, photographic cards and all sorts of broken little things; on the back of one of the chairs hangs a piece of the torn uniform of Emperor Nicholas I, which was kept in a special display case; the portrait of Elizaveta Alekseevna Vizhe-Lebrun has been knocked over and is lying near the desk.

In the office of Alexander II, the destruction is even more horrifying: all the tables were hacked, top part the historical bureau of Alexander I was turned into chips, a mangled silver frame of the Gospel was thrown on the table, and the Gospel itself was torn out of the frame; one headdress of Nicholas I was stolen, the other was torn; an icon case was broken into, from which small gold and silver icons and body crosses were stolen; corollas decorated with diamonds and precious stones are torn off and stolen; tattered historical notes, notebooks, letters and countless pieces of broken glass.

Office of Nicholas II. 1917

In the dressing room of Alexander II, wardrobes and chests of drawers were opened, and some were broken into; dozens of empty cases for jewelry, toiletries and travel accessories were scattered on the floor; a series of paintings prepared by the art commission for the evacuation - works by Grez, Murillo, Francesco Francia and others - were overturned (the paintings were intact with only minor damage to some of them).

Traces of the same merciless destruction were discovered in the small library and chambers of Empress Maria Alexandrovna: broken glass, empty cases, taken out of frames and some torn watercolors, boxes broken into small pieces, among other things, the box containing the collection historical medals, from which all the medals were stolen, draperies, curtains and upholstery were torn off, furniture was overturned, etc.

The so-called private chambers of Emperor Nicholas II and Alexandra Feodorovna, as well as the Malachite, Concert, Arabic halls and the Rotunda were occupied by the Provisional Government at the beginning of July. The furnishings of these rooms, which were more artistically valuable, were promptly removed, with the exception of some paintings covered with blankets and the furnishings of the office of Emperor Nicholas II. The pogrom of these premises was in the nature of the same cruelty, which manifested itself with particular clarity in the merciless destruction of all images royal family: paintings, portraits, photographs.

Thus, in the reception room, a painting depicting the coronation of Alexander III was torn, portraits of the Empress’s parents were stabbed with bayonets, a portrait of the Sovereign by Serov was stolen and subsequently torn to shreds, the same fate befell all photographs of Alexander III, etc. In the billiard room, billiard balls were stolen; in the library, which served as A. F. Kerensky’s office, a bookcase was broken into; the door panels in the restroom were broken; Torn engravings and photographs were scattered in the office, the desk was opened and moved from the main tables, the leather upholstery was removed from the furniture, and an oval portrait of Alexander II in an overcoat and cavalry cap was stolen. The tables and cabinets of all other rooms were also broken into, papers and books were taken out, and the floors were covered with torn and crumpled files of the Provisional Government.

Boudoir of Empress Alexandra Feodorovna. 1917

Room on the 3rd floor of the northwestern risalit

1) The adjutant wing and the office of Emperor Nicholas I were subjected to similar destruction. Some paintings were removed from the walls, an oval portrait led. book Mikhail Pavlovich is torn, everything is overturned, broken, blasphemously desecrated and is lying on the floor in a general heap.

2) The premises of the large library of Alexander II and the reserve library of Nicholas II, in which 10 boxes with historical albums were prepared for evacuation, accidentally turned out to be completely intact.”

The mentioned participant in the activities of the commission, A. N. Benois (he cannot be suspected of sympathizing with the Bolsheviks) left his memories of this day. Let us note once again that the events of the night from October 25 to 26, 1917 immediately gave rise to many myths, both from the “Reds” and from the “Whites”. One of the most persistent “white” myths will be the myth of the total looting of the Winter Palace by sailors and Red Guards. Concern about the condition of the Winter Palace led A. N. Benois, who was part of the Commissariat for the Protection of Artistic Values, or, as they said then, the “Gorky” Commission, to the Winter Palace on October 27: “However, we did not dare to go further than the Alexander Garden, and from there the familiar landscape seemed not to have changed at all, no traces of the battle were visible at all, and the entire bottom of the palace was obscured by entire walls of stacked and only scattered firewood in places. Only when, having grown bolder, we (through the Arch of the Headquarters) penetrated further into the square and closer to the palace, it turned out that the entire facade of the palace was dotted with traces of bullets, and that several windows were broken and they gaped black, and that the glass of many others, which seemed intact from a distance, were riddled with regular round holes. I was preparing to see a picture of complete collapse, smoking ruins - instead, thank God, the entire bulk of the palace, as well as what was seen in perspective from the facade on Millionnaya of the Hermitage - everything represented the same powerful, strong, unshakable appearance. We were also struck by the complete emptiness of both the square and the surrounding streets. Everything under the dull gray sky seemed enchanted, as if by some vision of the past... It was necessary to find out exactly how things were inside. To this end, upon returning home, I entered into telephone contact with by different persons, and among them with Lunacharsky.”

Chapter Six What really happened in 1917? Over the course of eighty years, a variety of, even directly opposite, answers have been given to this question, and today they are more or less familiar to attentive readers. But it remains almost unknown or is presented in