Rasputin (20 page)

Purishkevich and Dr Lazovert were both no doubt acting altruistically, taking personal risks in order to right what they perceived to be a terrible wrong.
Purishkevich
had publicly expressed his fierce disapproval of Rasputin, but he may have been as beguiled by the conspiracy’s drama as with its justice. Dr Lazovert’s
motives
remain less clear; but, by this time, it was of course a commonly held belief that Russia would be better off without Rasputin.

Grand Duke Dmitri and Yussoupov were very close. It was rumoured that the pair had once been lovers and
that Dmitri, in a jealous rage, had tried to kill himself. Yussoupov, though happily married, was known never to have been averse to what he called ‘love affairs of a special kind’, and Dmitri, though once betrothed to the eldest Grand Duchess, Olga, certainly wrote Yussoupov highly emotional letters: ‘How desperately I long at times to have a talk with you… For God’s sake write to me… I must again restrain my urgent desire to see you.’

Rasputin, incidentally, was not as fond of the Grand Duke as he was of Yussoupov. He claimed that
Dmitri
had a skin disease so contagious that the Imperial children were told to wash their hands with a special solution after touching him.

S
hortly before midnight, Dr Lazovert drove Yussoupov to Gorokhovaya Street to collect Rasputin. The late pick-up was unusual, but its peculiarity had not particularly struck Rasputin. He may have been more than usually befuddled by the prospect of meeting the stunning Princess Irina.

Dr Lazovert’s later statement that, at this point, he entered Rasputin’s flat is not borne out in any other account. His other claim regarding Rasputin’s feelings during his last drive – ‘Rasputin was in a gay mood’ – is equally contentious. Yussoupov had no recollection of Rasputin being either gay or, as Maria claimed, slightly apprehensive. In fact, he was unnerved to find Rasputin completely calm and exhibiting nothing at his reputed
‘gift for knowing people’. Once the pair arrived at the Moika Palace, he helped Rasputin off with his overcoat: ‘I looked at my victim with dread as he stood before me, quiet and trusting. What had become of his second sight?’

What were Yussoupov’s own feelings that night? It has been claimed that he had some sexual fixation with Rasputin. Yussoupov’s description of the
trances
into which he was put by Rasputin definitely have a sensuous relish. It was widely acknowledged that the Man of God’s eyes were mesmeric and that he could expand and contract his pupils at will. Yussoupov gave a graphic account of one of Rasputin’s so called ‘cures’: ‘His hypnotic power was immense. I felt it subduing me and diffusing warmth throughout the whole of my
being
. I grew numb; my body seemed paralysed. I tried to speak, but my tongue would not obey me, and I seemed to be falling asleep, as if under the influence of a strong narcotic.’

Maria was adamant that during the course of their meetings over the previous month, Yussoupov had been trying to seduce Rasputin. Watching the two of them avidly at the flat, she once caught Yussoupov
ostentatiously
drinking from the same side of a glass as her father. She also recalled her father telling her of an occasion when he had found Yussoupov lying naked on his broken sofa during what was supposed to be a
treatment
session for his homosexuality. ‘There is no doubt what he had in mind. Papa was dismayed to find that all his efforts were in vain.’

Any sexual advance would have been particularly
contrary. Yussoupov never tired of listing Rasputin’s unattractive traits, describing him as having ‘a mincing gait’ and walking around ‘bending, squatting, rubbing his hands’. He talked of Rasputin’s ‘untidy tangle of hair’ and his face ‘of the more ordinary peasant type – a coarse oval with large ugly features overgrown with a slovenly beard and with a long nose’.

Of his qualities as a healer, Yussoupov was no less critical, saying he had ‘no trace of spiritual refinement’ and was prone to ‘mutter incoherently’. But then his general repugnance need not have deterred him: the Prince was known for being perverse.

For his part, Rasputin was clearly drawn to
Yussoupov
; his name for him, ‘The Little One’, was blatantly affectionate if not sexual. One of the Tsar’s cousins was insistent that Rasputin was in the grip of a ‘carnal passion’ for Yussoupov.

Later, describing the events of that fateful night,
Purishkevich
would reveal his conviction that something had happened between Yussoupov and Rasputin when they were left alone together in the cellar. He reported having heard a suggestive groaning sound or, as he put it in French, a
gémissement
. Years later, Yussoupov seemed to incriminate himself, revealing all sorts of
intimate
details about Rasputin’s sexual attributes to Duff Cooper. At what point he had acquired this knowledge is unclear. Yussoupov claimed to Duff Cooper that
Rasputin
could withhold orgasm for prolonged periods and that he had three large penile warts.

A
ccounts vary as to that evening’s exact sequence of events. But Yussoupov’s and Purishkevich’s versions are similar enough to have been accepted as true.

Yussoupov first settled Rasputin at table, amid the after-dinner clutter, explaining to him that the guests had adjourned upstairs with the beautiful Princess
Irina
. Rasputin’s meeting with the Princess, he said, could take place as soon as these others had left. To give the illusion of a party above, the conspirators planned to play gramophone records. Sadly, at some late stage, they discovered that the Yussoupovs had only one record: ‘Yankee Doodle Dandy’.

The Prince had also prepared to play some music himself: against the cellar wall, he had carefully propped his guitar. Yussoupov was known for singing and playing gypsy songs; he and Dmiri performed duets. Rasputin perked up when he spotted the guitar. ‘Play something cheerful,’ he demanded, later adding: ‘You have much soul in you.’ Otherwise the pair shared desultory conversation, during which they discussed ‘mutual friends’. In one account Yussoupov claimed that he tried to persuade Rasputin to leave Petrograd.

Rasputin may not have been suspicious of Yussoupov, but nor was he inclined, initially, to be convivial. He turned down ever more insistent offers of poisoned food and alcohol. When he finally did eat and drink, he showed no ill effect. Yussoupov began to suspect that his victim was being protected by supernatural
powers. 
Increasingly unnerved, he left the room three times to complain to his conspirators upstairs. Purishkevich remembered Yussoupov’s words: ‘The poison’s effect is apparent only in the fact that he keeps belching and there seems to be an increase in saliva.’

In exasperation, Grand Duke Dmitri, the least
committed
, suggested they abandon the plot altogether. But he was overruled by the others. They all now agreed that their only option, with the failure of the poison, was to shoot him. All four ventured downstairs together, but, as they were creeping down, Yussoupov snatched Grand Duke Dmitri’s gun, announcing that he wanted to carry out the assassination himself. He went on ahead and found his victim gazing, enraptured or dazed, at a 17th-century bronze and crystal crucifix. When
Rasputin
made some appreciative comments, Yussoupov admonished him: ‘Grigory Efimovich, you would do better to look at the crucifix and pray.’ As soon as
Rasputin
began praying, Yussoupov shot him, point blank, in his side.

Claims that the conspirators, now a full two floors up, heard Rasputin’s body landing on the white
bearskin
rug seem unlikely. What the conspirators did hear, however, was Rasputin’s ‘wild scream’ as he was shot. All three rushed down to see what was happening, but, as they entered the room, one of them either flicked the light switch or tripped on a wire and the room was plunged into darkness. Yussoupov said he froze in
terror
, lest he step on his victim. A few minutes later, the lights came back on and they surveyed the crumpled body on fhe floor.

Although Purishkevich had spoken out against
Rasputin
in the Duma so vociferously, he had never actually set eyes on him. He wondered now how this so-called Man of God could have influenced the destiny of
Russia
: a peasant ‘
si
banal et si
odieux
’. The rattled Grand Duke was the first to speak; he told the others that, to avoid stains, they must get the body off the bearskin rug and onto the stone floor. After moving him, the
conspirators
switched off the lights, locked the door and went upstairs.

But Yussoupov, it seems, couldn’t resist returning to the cellar. Half an hour later, he crept back downstairs and peered closely at the corpse. He swore that, at that point, Rasputin came back to life: ‘First one eye, then the other, opened with a look of diabolical wickedness.’ The Man of God now lunged at Yussoupov, ‘bellowing and snorting like a wild animal’. In the ensuing
scuffle
, Rasputin tore off one of Yussoupov’s epaulettes: ‘It seemed that the devil himself, incarnate in this muzhik [peasant], was holding me in vice-like fingers never to let me go.’

Upstairs, Purishkevich heard Yussoupov’s
‘cri sauvage, inhumain’;
both attacker and victim were now screaming like animals. Grand Duke Dmitri and Dr Lazovert had left the palace to burn Rasputin’s clothing, though, confusingly, none of it was ever burnt. Purishkevich had been relishing a moment of quiet, with a celebratory cigar, when he heard the terrible commotion downstairs. He rushed,
spluttering
, into the corridor and collided with Yussoupov, who barged past him and ran into his parents’ quarters shouting: ‘He’s alive! He’s getting away.’

There were disputes about whether Purishkevich did, in fact, fire the fatal shot. It was mooted that Grand Duke Dmitri (above), a trained soldier, was the more likely candidate.