The 1917-18 Envoys' Plot and its
consequences in Russia Part Two
Description of
persons involved.
Detailed by us in a 2011 article, variously called Ambassadors'
or Envoys'
Plot and later when the first related British documents were released,
named in the press as the Lockhart-Reilly
and finally misnamed as simple 'the' Lockhart Plot remains the most audacious
spy plot in British and American history, a bold and extremely dangerous operation
to invade Russia, defeat the Red Army, and mount a coup in Moscow against
Lenin. After that, leaders in Washington, Paris, and London aimed to install
their own Allied-friendly dictator in Moscow as a means to get Russia back into
the war effort against Germany.
And while we have
seen in part one that in July 1917,
Raymond Robins, who would function as the first American spy in Russia, the
British and French in turn negotiated the "Convention entre la France et l’Angleterre au sujet de Faction
dans la Russie méridionale," and signed by
France and England on 23 December 1917. In assenting to the agreement, the War
Cabinet endorsed the arrangement that "every effort should be made to
utilize in South Russia the personnel of the British missions now in Russia, and
that for the present they should not be withdrawn altogether from the
country."1 It established both the presence and the principle behind the
use of "unofficial agents" in the quasi-diplomatic relationships thus
far established with the Bolsheviks. The War Cabinet broadly interpreted the
agreement to mean that all efforts were permitted "To prevent the
transference of further (German) enemy troops from East to West" and,
significantly, "To deny the resources of Russia and Siberia to the
enemy."2
It was under this
agreement, at Alfred Milner's urging, that Foreign Office and MI1 (c)
representative Robert Bruce Lockhart was sent back to Russia in February 1918.4
It was under this agreement also that Francis Oswald Lindley and Hudson's Bay
Company (HBC) Agent Henry Armitstead (who also was to get involved with a plot to safe the Tsar) and Leslie Urquhart (a
Siberian manganese magnate) later moved to obtain trade guarantees from the new
Soviet government.
By now, Secretary of
State Lansing already had told President
Wilson on 10 Dec. 1917 that the only hope for Russia lay in setting up a
“military dictatorship.”3 Lansing’s idea was to choose one man and make him the
boss of Russia on the side of America and the Allies.
But Lansing and
Wilson faced problems in trying to set up a dictator in Russia. First, their
man would need an army large enough to deliver a coup. The Cossacks, though,
were a good start there. Cossacks were not the regular army. They were the
traditional ancient Russian national army, a fast-moving strike force of
mounted shock troops that could completely mobilize and move out within
forty-eight hours.
The Bolsheviks
considered the Cossacks to be their mortal enemies. The feeling was mutual.
Hence, whatever Cossack the White House chose for a coup would probably
summarily execute Lenin. Since the Western nations had not declared war on
Russia, such a killing could not be considered an act of war. It would place
the United States and her allies as a party to an assassination of a foreign
head of state. That could fit the description of international terrorism.
A second problem
would be supplies. But that could be solved if the French and British lifted
their blockades of Russian ports and imported war matériel that way. And, as
General Hugh Scott (a member of the Root Commission) had noted, thousands of
tons of supplies, including locomotives, were sitting rusting at Vladivostok.
Additional Allied supplies were stored in Archangel.
Then there was the
money question. Who exactly was going to pay for all this? Britain and France
supposedly had promised money to the Cossacks, but England was almost broke,
and Paris was busy trying to deal with mutinies in her army. Would secret funds
need to be used? If so, and the scheme backfired, it could spell real trouble
for Wilson and the Democrats in the coming mid-term congressional elections,
and for Lloyd George and the Liberals in the next parliamentary vote. The same
went for seventy-six-year-old Georges Clemenceau, who was trying to maintain
power in war-weary France.
And finally, what
would the Allies do with their dictator once the Bolsheviks were thrown out and
the war against German was won? Would he step down voluntarily after the
constituent assembly decided on a new government?
This puppet ruler
might decide that he liked power, and he was going to stay, thank you. Then the
Allies would have to raise still another army to get rid of him. The Allies had
spent four years in the most destructive war in history. Did they want yet another?
But first things first. The new Caesar had to be chosen.
“Kaledin
is a man of ponderous determination who is unaffected alike by victory or
defeat,” Lansing told Wilson in that note proposing a dictatorship for Russia.
“He is a strong character who carries through his purpose regardless of
opposition. As a commander, he resembles Grant. He radiates force and mystery.”
Lansing thought General Aleksey Maximovich Kaledin
should be contacted “without delay” and should be assured that the United
States was ready to prop him up.4
Lansing favored Kaledin. But it would be “unwise” for Washington to support
Kaledin “openly,” yet Kaledin
should be shown that the Allies were “most sympathetic” toward his efforts.
“Without actually recognizing his group as a de facto government, which is at
present impossible since it has not taken from, this [U.S.] government cannot
under the law loan money to him [Kaledin] to carry
forward his movement,” Lansing continued. “The only practicable course seems to
be for the British and French governments to finance the Kaledine
enterprise in so far as it is necessary, and for this government to loan them
the money to do so.”5
Pictured below U.S. Secretary of State Robert Lansing
the original architect of the Plot:
There it was. Covert
American military aid would be laundered by the French and British, then passed
along to the Cossacks in a plot to overthrow Lenin and the Bolsheviks. As
Lansing suggested, some might say this was illegal. Still, Lansing directed Walter
Hines Page, U.S. ambassador to Britain, to act “expeditiously” and confer with
France and Britain on the matter. “This has my entire approval,” Wilson said.6
Thus DeWitt Poole
left Moscow on December 15, 1917, on his secret mission to hire a Cossack army
to overthrow Lenin and set up an Allied dictatorship. His control officer
was Maddin Summers, Consul General at
Moscow.7
Pictured below DeWitt
Clinton Poole, U.S. consul general in Moscow, would become America’s spymaster
in Revolutionary Russia. He ran dozens of American, Russian, and Latvian
agents, both civilian and military:
Poole carried two
sets of identity papers, one from the American consulate and the other from the
Bolsheviks. If Poole got captured by either side, and they found those
conflicting papers, he could get shot. His survival would depend on a mix of
personal charm, nerve, and a talent for bluffing his way through tight spots.
Poole’s destination
was Rostov, 665 miles south of Moscow, close to the Ukrainian border. It had
been built about fifty years after St. Petersburg, making it one of Russia’s
“new” cities. Also called Rostov-on-Don, it was the largest city in Cossack
country.
In case he got
questioned, Poole’s cover story was that he was there to “investigate the
commercial situation” in Rostov and open a consulate. With his Wilsonian
three-piece suit, high white collar, and pince-nez glasses, Poole could have
easily passed for a commercial attaché. Like Kalamatiano,
he carried a cane, the mark of a gentleman. A cane was also useful for
self-defense. Some canes came with a sword blade inside; others were hollow so
an agent could hide his money and codebook inside, as Kalamatiano
would do later.
Don Cossack Cavalry
Alexey Kaledin and Mikhail Alekseyev had captured
Rostov the day that Poole left Moscow. But Bolshevik forces were still around.
They might counterattack and seize the city at any time, so it remained a
dangerous combat zone. But when Poole arrived in the city on 18 December, he
wasn’t certain exactly who held the city, the Reds, or the Cossacks. What
should he say if he got detained at a checkpoint?
He walked the
corridors of his hotel, eavesdropping on conversations. He didn’t know much
Russian at that point but was able to understand, as Poole wrote in his
Reminiscences, a man saying “Bronstein”and “ufa.” The man spoke with contempt and almost spit the words
out. Bronstein was Trotsky’s real name. And “ufa”
meant a Jew. He was calling Trotsky a dirty Jew. “So that was the solution,”
Poole said, with relief. “We were in anti-Bolshevik country.”8
Poole immediately set
out shopping for a dictator, not hiring anybody right off, not writing any
checks, not making any promises, just auditioning the talent. Summers had told
him to do whatever his “judgment dictated.”9
“In the south I was
circulating and gathering information,” Poole wrote in his reminiscences. “I
was simply what we would now call an intelligence officer.”10
Poole found three
main military forces in Don country: Alekseyev’s Volunteer Army, Kaledin’s Cossacks, and the Southeastern League. Those
forces controlled the region’s valuable coal and grain supplies, which the
Bolsheviks were desperate to get their hands on.
Alekseyev’s army,
made up of war veterans, cadets, and students, was the dominant group, Poole
said in a lengthy report on his visit. Kaledin’s
Cossacks were under Alekseyev’s ultimate command.
The Southeastern
League was the smallest group, made up of other Cossack tribes and mountain men
of the Caucasus. The federation maintained contact with anti-Bolshevik forces
in Ukraine, Siberia, Transcaucasia, and Bessarabia.11
Alekseyev had been
named imperial army chief of staff after Nicholas II took over as commander in
chief. Alekseyev was a brilliant tactician, a key planner of the Galician
campaign that defeated Austria-Hungary. Following the emperor’s abdication,
Alekseyev was promoted to commander in chief of the provisional government’s
Russian Revolutionary Army. But he refused to tolerate the committee system and
its breakdown of discipline in the ranks. He, too, was fired by Kerensky, and
he went back to Don country to raise his Volunteer Army. Alekseyev assured
Poole that he wished to restore order in Russia, call free and open elections,
and put the country back in the war, in short, overthrow Lenin and the
Bolsheviks. That’s what Poole, Summers, Lansing, and Wilson wanted to hear.
But Kaledin and his Cossacks seem to have been Washington’s
favorite. Kaledin had been a protégé of Brusilov’s
during the war. Kaledin commanded the Russian Eighth
Army at the Battle of Lutsk during Brusilov’s 1916 offensive, caught the
Austro-Hungarian Fourth Army by surprise, and forced them off the field with
130,000 casualties. And that was just in the first two days. But, like Alekseyev,
Kaledin refused to have anything to do with the
army’s committee system and its loss of officers’ authority after the
revolution. He blamed those breakdowns on Kerensky and the Petrograd Soviet. It was no surprise, then, that
Kerensky added Kaledin to his pile of discarded
commanders. Kaledin returned to the Don, became
Alekseyev’s lieutenant governor, and helped raise the Volunteer Army. The third
general that Poole interviewed was Lavr Kornilov, who had been appointed army
commander in chief by Kerensky back during the July Days in Petrograd. But in
September 1917, Kornilov tried to install himself as dictator through a coup
against both the provisional government and the Petrograd Soviet. It failed,
and now he was back home again.
Poole thought
Kornilov a great cavalry leader, the Sheridan of the Russians. But at the
moment, his track record wasn’t so good. One of his commanders had surrendered
Kornilov’s army in that failed coup against Kerensky and then went off to shoot
himself.
Kerensky had Kornilov
locked up after his failed putsch. But this was
Russia, where stubborn jail locks could sometimes be opened by the
application of gold. Kornilov’s people sprung him, and they rode off into the night.
“Kerensky’s supreme
mistake was in splitting with General Kornilov, who had gathered behind him the
only force capable of handling the Bolsheviki,”
Charles Crane wrote later. After Kornilov’s coup failed, Crane had felt there
would be no help for Russia for a “long time to come,” and he went home to
Chicago.12
While at
Novocherkassk, Poole met Brigadier General Raymond de Candolle, an army
railroad engineer from the British military mission in Rumania (now Romania).
On Christmas day, 1917, also a Colonel Hucher from
the French military mission in Rumania arrived. Like Poole, Candolle and Hucher were in the Don to raise armies to defeat the
Bolsheviks. The French were concentrating on Ukraine, Crimea, Bessarabia, and
Rumania. The English were most active in the Caucasus and the Don.
On 27 December, Hucher told Alekseyev that Paris had approved a credit of
100 million rubles to restore order in Russia and get the country back in the
war against the Central Powers, that is, to mount a coup against the
Bolsheviks.13
Poole admired all
these exiled generals. In his opinion, they had risen to the top of the army
because they were men of great courage and ability. They were fierce fighters,
not apple polishers or Bolshevik slackers. But politics began to sully the
waters of this early Lenin Plot, both in the Don and in Washington.
For one, Boris
Savinkov appeared in the Don and demanded to be included in Alekseyev’s command
structure.
At the same time,
another group was forming around Kornilov, causing Poole to worry that the
whole movement might “miscarry for want of agreement between these different
groups.” The French, though, intervened to stop the squabbling and set up a
leadership council. Alekseyev would be the minister of war. Kornilov would
continue organizing the Volunteer Army and command all forces outside the Don. Kaledin would head up the Cossacks and all defensive
operations within the Don.
Alekseyev yielded to
Savinkov and included Boris in the leadership council. Savinkov then demanded
the inclusion of three other members like for example, Sefa Burhan Agiev, a leader of the left-wing of the Don Cossacks and
president of the Don Parliament (the Krug); Vinderzgolski,
a former commissar of the Eighth Army; and Mazurienko,
president of the All-Russian Peasants Union of the Don. Alekseyev agreed to
Savinkov’s demands. Then others, both conservative and radical, were added,
including SDs, SRs, Kadets (Constitutional Democrats), a banker, and a prince.
Alekseyev envisioned
his group becoming the new Russian provisional government. He promised to get
back in the war on the side of the Allies and call a new constituent assembly.
But Savinkov left the Don after six weeks with a “profound distrust” of what he
had seen there. At his trial later in Moscow, he said that Alekseyev, Kaledin, and Kornilov were surrounded by cliques “occupied
chiefly with intrigues, career-hunting, and scandals… everybody busy with his
own little affairs.” He said he was looked upon as an enemy because of his past
terrorism against the tsarist government. At one point, a Cossack artillery
officer was sent to Savinkov’s tent to assassinate him. But the man didn’t have
the courage to draw his weapon, Savinkov said. The officer asked that the
matter be dropped, which Boris agreed to do.14
Savinkov’s presence
suggests that Poole, the French, and the British might have been dealing with
Bloody Boris in a coup conspiracy against Lenin long before other high-profile
plotters such as Bruce Lockhart and Sidney Reilly came aboard.
Poole, in his first
report from the Don, urged the “countenance and support” of the American
government for the Cossacks. He said the Southeastern League had extended its
influence throughout the country and was the “one serious hope of saving at
least a part of Russia.” In a follow-up report, Poole said there was an
“urgent” need for cash “at once,” 200 million rubles to last until the end of
April 1918.15
Poole also reported
that “clandestine preparations” were being made for “counter-Bolshevik
outbreaks” in Moscow and other cities, confirming that a Plot was afoot in
December 1917.16
Initially, Edward M.
House (known by the nickname Colonel House) was against the plot idea, but
House changed his mind. “On the other hand,” he told Wilson, “if they [the
Cossacks] are not given money or encouragement they may go to pieces.”17
Wilson, on December
26, finally agreed to secretly advance the French and British whatever funds
might be “necessary” to finance the Cossack coup against Lenin.18 The Allied
PMs in Paris then sent French and British military scouts to the Don to see
what the Cossack program looked like. Those were probably the two envoys Poole
met down there.
There are several
estimates of what Alekseyev asked for, 400 million rubles, 500 million, and so
on. But official documents do not indicate how many if any, dollars were
actually disbursed. It was, after all, supposed to be a secret payoff.
Yet the White
Volunteer Army in the region of the Don, from which the Allies expected much,
was not prospering. Its leaders, Generals Alekseyev and Kornilov, loathed each
other. Its officers tended to sympathize with the old elites in most matters,
including crucially the matter of returning to its former owner's land
expropriated by the peasants. This hardly lent its mass appeal. Moreover, White
nationalist insistence upon “Russia one and indivisible” alienated the
minorities in the former Russian Empire who longed for autonomy. Most
particularly in this instance, this Russian nationalism alienated a second
fighting force in the region, the Don Cossacks, with whom the Whites needed to
unite if they were to prove successful.
Furthermore, the
leaders of both forces were unlucky. Poorly-trained Red Guards defeated the Don
Cossacks at Taganrog. The mortified Don Cossack commander, General Kaledin, committed suicide. Shortly thereafter, General
Kornilov perished when a single Red Army shell struck the house in which he
quartered. He was the only casualty. Not much later, General Alekseyev, founder
of the Volunteer Army, died of a heart attack. Eventually, the White Army did
rally under General Denikin and succeeded in gaining control of much of the
Caucasus. Ultimately, it would manage to form an uneasy alliance with the Don
Cossacks, but too late to help the Allies win World War I, and therefore too
late for the Allies to help them overthrow Bolshevism.19
The attempt by
America and the Allies to mount a coup against Lenin and install their own
dictator in Russia was quit for 1917. But the Plot itself was still alive. As
we will see in part three, it simply segued into 1918. DeWitt Poole was still
leading the charge for the United States, and he would soon be joined by new
players, new armies, and new infusions of cash.
The 1917-18 Envoys' Plot and its consequences in
Russia Part One
The 1917-18 Envoys' Plot and its consequences
in Russia Part Three
The 1917-18 Envoys' Plot and its consequences
in Russia Part Four
The 1917-18 Envoys' Plot and its consequences
in Russia Part Five
The 1917-18 Envoys' Plot and its consequences in Russia Part Six
The 1917-18 Envoys' Plot and its consequences
in Russia Part Seven
1. Public Record
Office, Kew (PRO), War Office (WO 161/5, Appendix B, 23 December 1917, p. 11.
2. Gollin, Proconsul
in Politics: A Study of Lord Milner in Oposition and
In Power, p. 557. Lindley had the benefit of having Sidney Reilly reporting to
him. While he was at Vologda, Reilly, writing from the "British
Intelligence Section, attached Head Quarters Russian Staff, Petrograd,
telephone 2-56-05," was asking his advice on matters concerning the
Russian internal political situation. PRO, FO 175/6, 23 July 1918. Sydney
Reilly was also reporting to Bruce Lockhart, of course, and, as well through
him to MI1 (c) and to Lieutenant-Colonel
Richard Steel at MIO(a). Steel at this time was responsible for liaising with
the White generals- see Bentwich and Kisch, Brigadier
Frederick Kisch: Soldier and Zionist,1966, p. 42.
3. The Secretary of
State to President Wilson, December 10, 1917, President Roosevelt to the
President of the Soviet All-Union Central Executive Committee (Kalinin),
October 10, 1933, in Foreign Relations of the United States, Diplomatic Papers,
The Soviet Union, 1933–1939, 711.61/287a (hereafter referred to as FRUS),
Lansing Papers, Papers, 1914–1920, Volume II, 861.00/807a. See also: https://www.history.state.gov
4. Lansing to Wilson,
December 10, 1917, 861.00/807a.
5. Lansing to Wilson,
December 10, 1917, 861.00/807a. Lansing and Poole both from time to time
spelled Kaledin phonetically, as in Kala-deen.
6. Draft Telegram to
the Ambassador in Great Britain (Page), December 12, 1917, FRUS, Lansing
Papers, Volume II, 861.00/804d. Lansing’s wire was sent the next day.
7. https://history.state.gov/historicaldocuments/frus1918Russiav01/persons
8. Poole,
“Reminiscences, of DeWitt Clinton Poole,” 1952 unpublished typescript, Columbia
Center for Oral
History, Columbia University, 141.
9. Poole,
“Reminiscences,” 139.
10. Poole,
“Reminiscences,” 96, 170–71.
11. Poole to Francis,
“Confidential report.” to the ambassador respecting the movement in the Don
country for the restoration of order in Russia, the holding of a constitutional
assembly, and the continuance of the war,” January 28, 1918, David R. Francis
Papers, Missouri Historical Society Archives, St. Louis.
12. Crane, Charles
Richard. Memoirs of Charles R. Crane [1934]. New York: Columbia University. http://www.archive.org. “Crude oil prices.”
Literary Digest, 1920, 327.
13. Poole to Francis,
“Confidential report.”
14. THE TRIAL OF
BORIS SAVINKOV, August 27, 1924, Pravda, August 30, 1924, transcript trans. by
Emanuel Aronsberg, courtesy of the Hoover Institution
on War, Revolution and Peace, Stanford University. Hereafter referred to as
Savinkov testimony.
15. Poole to
Department of State, January 18, 1918, Francis Letters.
16. The Special
Representative (House) to the Secretary of State, December 2, 1917,
763.72/7926, FRUS,
1918, Russia, Volume II.
17. Phillips, 40–41.
18. The Consul at
Tiflis (Smith) to the Secretary of State, November 23, 1917, 861.00/711, FRUS,
1918, Russia, Volume II.
19. S. A. Smith,
Russia in Revolution, Oxford, 2017, especially pp. 161–96. For more on the
Russian Civil War one might also consult, among many, Ronald Sinclair, The Spy
who Disappeared, London, 1990, I. C. Dunsterville,
The Adventures of Dunsterforce, London, 1932, N.
Baron, The King of Karelia, London, 2007.
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