Rasputin

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“It's October 1907, in the Alexander Palace at Zaskoye-Zelor, Russia.”

In a corridor of the Imperial Family's summer gacha, a young footman stands guard at the door to the nursery.

Inside, the life of the three-year-old heir to the Russian throne, Zarevich Aleksai, hangs in the balance. He is suffering from an internal hemorrhage, brought on by his hemophilia, a rare genetic disorder that stops the blood from clotting properly, meaning even small injuries can be life-friendly. Listening at his post, the footman hears anxious, clipped voices from within. None of the doctors have known what to do, and the child is in a desperate state.

His mother, Zarevich Aleksandra, fears the worst.

“But now, a new figure appears in the corridor.”

A tall, strong-looking man with an unkempt black beard and hair that falls to his shoulders. His course, peasant's tunic, is tied with a cord at the waist. But it is his pale, piercing eyes that command the footman's attention. He is the Siberian peasant holy man, Gregorie Rasputin, summoned here by the Imperial family as their last desperate hope for the boy. The footman swings the nursery door open and follows the visitor inside.

The room is heavy with fear. These arena clutches her child's hand while doctors linger by the walls in helpless silence. Crossing the chamber, Rasputin kneels by the bedside and begins to pray. His voice is low, insistent, and thick with dialect the footman cannot follow. But the chant is steady, rising and falling like a tide.

Slowly, the atmosphere shifts, and Alexander's sobps soften. The boy's moaning eases, his breath grows calmer, quieter. Hours pass.

Rasputin's voice never falters, until at last he falls silent and stands.

The pause vibrates in the still air until Alexander's voice breaks it. He is sleeping, which he says, trembling with relief. The footman crosses himself, murmuring prayer of his own. The boy is alive. In the days to come, the court will whisper of a miracle.

Some will say Rasputin has the gift of healing. Others will insist he simply calmed the Empress and persuaded her to keep the doctors away, along with their aspirin, which was thinning his blood further. For long enough, to let the boy's body recover on its own. But to Alexander, there is no doubt, Rasputin has saved her son.

It becomes a trust so fierce, it will place a Siberian peasant with the heart of the Russian court,

“and hasten the collapse of a 300-year-old dynasty.”

At the dawn of the 20th century, Russia was a nation on the brink. Strikes, protests, and violent uprisings were shaking the empire. Public faith in the monarchy was hanging by a threat. Into this fragile world, stepped Grigory Rasputin. Whether he was truly a holy man, blessed with healing powers, or a fraud and a drunkard,

who inserted himself at the heart of a doomed dynasty,

is closeness to this arena gave him a hold over the Russian court, which seemed both inexplicable and irresistible.

“But what was it about Rasputin, but allowed him to enchant the desperate Empress?”

How did rumours of scandal and corruption turn one man into a symbol of national decay? And why, even after his violent death, is his shadow still hand over the fall of imperial Russia? I'm John Hopkins, from the noise of podcasts network this is a short history of Rasputin. In 1869, in the small village of Prokovskyi, deep in the Siberian steppe.

His father is a cart driver, and, like most of their neighbours, his family are peasants of modest means.

Life here is harsh, shaped by bitter winters, poverty, and the rhythms of the Orthodox Church. But from an early age, the boy stands out as being special, at least according to the stories told much later after he became famous. Francis Welch is historian and author of Rasputin, a short life. He was partly very advanced as a baby, you know, some almost walking by six months talking at eight months. This is what we hear, and his magic powers came through quite early on.

It was discovered that when he was near cows, they produced more milk. From the start, local speak of a strange intensity in his gaze, and stories spread of visions and prophetic dreams. As well as uping the milk yield of cattle, he also apparently can spot horse thieves on sight. Whether true or not his odd behaviour, sometimes deeply devout, other times unruly and wild, marks him as different.

“He was honestly strange, he used to sort of stare at grass for hours, and beat himself with nettles.”

But his peculiarity is not entirely unique. This is a land steeped in mysticism, pilgrimage, and wandering holy men. And young Regori grows up surrounded by folktales of saints and seers. His environment nurtures the possibility of religious eccentricity, where pilgrims walk for days to visit remote shrines, and the faithful practice odd rituals to prove their piety.

And alongside the devout, a fanatics, flagellants, hermits and visionaries all convinced of divine revelation. Where he was, there was quite a lot of spirituality. I mean, there were old believers living in the forests who were sort of worrying about changes to the litigy, but also fanatics who were sort of castrating themselves. I mean, there was a lot of what we would call very eccentric behaviour around.

In these Siberia of Rasputin's youth, spiritual extremism exists side by side with hardship, hunger, and backbreaking work. Respite comes in the form of prayer or the bottle. As a young man, Rasputin earns a reputation for both sanctity and sin. Though some say that he is touched by God, most know him as a drinker, a thief, and a brawler. Those employing his cart driving services find him to be particularly unreliable.

You would take cart loads of furs, say, to the local town of Tumen. The furs would be lost, the cart would be lost, the horse would be lost. He would be found in a ditch.

So they sent him to a monastery where he discovered this sect called the Clisty.

This secretive sect, who take their name from the Russian word for "wips", are condemned as heretics by the Orthodox Church.

“They've rejected formal clergy, meet in secret, and claim a direct communication with God.”

They are known for the practice of literally whipping themselves into frenzies, as well as seeking redemption for their sins, through ecstatic, often highly sexual rituals, which they call radenya, or love feasts. Much of what we think we know about Rasputin's link to the Clisty comes from later police reports, hostile judgment,

sensational memoirs written after his rise to fame. The evidence is fragmentary at best, being part fact, part gossip,

and part propaganda designed to discredit him. But those association with such a sect is enough to stain his name. It also gives him a very unique outlook on his relationships with women.

“Rasputin then got the idea that you could very easily combine sex and religion and have a love feast, and he very early on embraced the idea that you can sin for salvation,”

and in fact, chastity is the sin of pride, which suited a lot of people, a lot of way to live. He also felt that the more girls or women that he stepped with, he was reducing the general sins of the world, so he was doing a very good thing.

He was doing everybody a good turn, by enjoying himself.

In 1887, when Rasputin is about 18 years old, he marries a local girl, Praskovia. Sharing his religiosity, she is also patient and long suffering, qualities she will need in spades for a life with her new husband. Over the next few years, they have several children, there are only a few survived infancy.

“For a time, Rasputin tries to live a settled life as a farmer, but his restless nature and deers.”

In his early 20s, Rasputin experiences a religious awakening that changes the course of his life. Again, accounts differ on what triggered it, some say the death of one of their children led him to seek divine answers. Others suggest the idea comes as his spiritual visions intensify. He had what he called visions of God, where he felt that God was within him, and he saw the virgin Mary pointing to the horizon, which he thought was telling him that he needed to go on a pilgrimage. And that night, after he'd seen the virgin Mary, his icon of the virgin Mary wet, it had water coming from it.

Having been much inspired by his weeping painting, Rasputin begins leaving his family for long stretches. He wanders barefoot to monasteries and holy sites all over Russia, seeking guidance and enlightenment and absorbing radical ideas on the fringes of orthodoxy. By the time he returns home from these early pilgrimages, Rasputin has remade himself as a star ats, or a holy man. Part, mystic, part preacher, part healer, he has grown his hair and beard long, adopted simple peasant robes, and cultivated an aura of other worldly wisdom around himself.

And he has a following. He had come back with women, with his little ladies as he called them, sometimes dressed in nuns outfits, and Preskovia, his very understanding wife. He used to say, "Well, he has enough for all." That was her line. And she was quite happy for her husband for Brighory, and to put himself about which he did. And she didn't object to these women coming back to her house. To his critics, he's merely using these long pilgrimages to avoid the difficult work of the harvest.

To many of his neighbours, however, he radiates not only charisma, but also genuine spiritual power. Villages seek him out for blessings, advice and queers. Despite his relative youth, he becomes a revered star ats, and by the turn of the 20th century, the name Rasputin is already spreading beyond his tiny corner of Siberia. Pilgrims and curious travellers pass through Prakovskye to see the peasant holy man with the piercing eyes and the gift for healing. Some leave convinced he's a prophet, others that he's a fraud, but all agree that he's definitely different.

Nutella, or from Mama and Papa, who lives Nutella is Nutella.

“In 1903, Rasputin sets out once again on a pilgrimage, heading west towards St. Petersburg.”

Though again, no single reason for this journey survives in the historical record, it is widely considered a journey both of faith and of instinct. If he is truly chosen by God, then his path must lead to the place where God's earthly power resides. The Imperial Capital itself. When he arrives, St. Petersburg is still a world of palaces and processions of carriages clattering down Nevskye prospect and choirs echoing from the golden domes of Orthodox churches. But it's also a city of private salons, intrigue and religious debate, where his unpolished Siberian manna once again sets him apart.

“Here in the Capital, high society seems obsessed by mysticism and prophecy, and the search for new holy figures has become a past time.”

Rasputin's gift for course, but captivating oratory and claims of divine inspiration quickly earned him a circle of admirers, particularly among the clergy. Within months, his gained favor with influential churchmen who delight in introducing him to aristocratic households. Yet, even as his star begins to rise, the empire around him is already shifting. For more than three centuries, Russia has been ruled by the Romanov dynasty, a line of absolute monarchs who claim their authority from God. But Zion Nicholas II, the latest in that line, isn't well suited to leadership.

Shai, indecisive and deeply conservative, Nicholas struggles to connect with his people, to whom he appears out of touch and distant. The vast empire he governs is largely poor and increasingly restless. Industrial workers in the cities have long been demanding reform and peasants in the countryside face hunger and debt. But the Zion's government continuously answers discontent with force rather than compromise.

In January 1995, that tension finally comes to a head when thousands of workers march peacefully to the winter palace, carrying petitions for better wages and fairer treatment.

They come as loyal subjects, trusting the man they call little of father Zah to listen. Instead, the imperial soldiers open fire on the crowd, killing hundreds. The massacre, which will be remembered as bloody Sunday, shatters faith in the monarchy. In the months of follow, protests sweep the empire.

Then tragedy strikes the royal family itself when grand Duke Sergei Alexandrovich is killed by a revolutionary bomb in Moscow.

As both the Zah's uncle and the Zahrin's brother-in-law, his death strikes both sides of the royal family. For Nicholas and Alexander, the shock is profound. And it is during this period, while the royal family reels from loss and unrest, they encounter a strange holy man from Siberia. He'd healed a dog belonging to Grand Duchess Malitzer, who was a cousin of the Tsar.

“She was impressed by him, Malitzer. She was slightly cracked, I think herself, but she sort of endorsed him.”

Militia and her sister Anastasia are known in St. Petersburg as the black peril, famous for their sciences, charms, and spiritual obsessions, especially with the occult. When Militia encounters Rasputin, she's convinced he's the real thing, and arranges for him to meet the Zahrin. It should also be said that they did have additional holy fools, and all sorts of oddness and eccentricities at the Russian court. They had a series of men of god or holy fools, or whatever you'd like to call him before Rasputin arrived.

It wasn't so odd for them to invite this rather uncent man who's on a smell to go to the palace.

Yet Rasputin proves different. However, unpolished his manners, his presence is magnetic. He speaks in parables, praise with conviction, and seems to look straight through people with those intense, unblinking eyes. To the already anxious Zahrin, his humility feels pure, and untouched by the vanity and corruption of the court. In no time, Rasputin becomes a regular guest at the palace, and he is more than a curiosity. Bizarre and Zahrin are referred to him as Nash Drug, or our friend.

And both his words and his mere presence seem to steady the Empress in particular.

Soon an opportunity arises that will seal his place in court and in history.

In 1907, the air to the Russian throne, three-year-old Zahrin Vich Alexei falls ill. The boy already suffers from hemophilia, a hereditary condition passed down from his maternal, great-grandmother, Queen Victoria of England. The illness damages the body's blood clotting ability, and leaves him dangerously vulnerable to internal bleeding. Alexei is the imperial couples only son. After four daughters, his birth secured the future of the Roman dynasty. But his illness now threatens it.

“With faith in the monarchy already floundering, and the empire feeling fragile, the truth of his condition is kept a closely guarded secret,”

even within the palace, view understand the precarity of the situation. Now, a recent fall has led to a severe hemorrhage that's looking increasingly life-threatening. For days, the doctors have proved powerless to ease his pain. In desperation, Empress Alexandra turns to the man she has come to believe is touched by God, Regory, Rasputin. He'd fallen in the palace and damaged his leg, and his face so badly as his eyes were closed,

but apparently he's again to recover as soon as Rasputin saw him. Despite those how the healings were done or how real they were, Rasputin didn't like aspirin, which doctors were then giving out, which is an anti-coagulant, and that may have helped his cause, because obviously aspirin would have made bleeding worse, and it wasn't known then, and it was an anti-coagulant. The other thing was that once he'd got the confidence of the Tsarina, the boy's mother,

who's here ride per general stress level would drop, and then his would, the little boys, and that probably had something to do with it as well, but nobody knows exactly. Having removed the doctors and their harmful aspirin from the Zarevich's room, Rasputin's calming prayers appear to work wonders immediately, and the boy begins to recover. For his mother, Alexandra, it is nothing short of divine intervention.

From that night on, Rasputin is no longer just a holy man. He is the family's protector. But outside the palace, most are unaware why he visits so frequently. He was a regular visitor, and he would visit the Tsarina and the Grand Duchess in their bedrooms, sometimes when they were wearing their bedclothes, news of that spread, and was not well received as you can imagine.

“And one of the crucial things is that the reasons for his visits were kept secret.”

It mustn't be known that the air, this long-awaited little boy, was ill, very, very ill. So nobody knew him. With the court and public, mostly ignorant to his true role, Rasputin's new closeness to the imperial family, makes him a man of dangerous importance. And preists question his party.

For the wider world, the idea that a barefoot peasant from Siberia now has the ear of the Tsarina begins to feel like a scandal.

Rasputin's involvement in courtly affairs grows steadily after his first healing of the Tsarivic.

Increasingly seeing him as her spiritual guide, Alexandra invites him to the palace,

“among personal matters, and comes to believe that his prayers are the only thing keeping Alexa alive.”

The Tsar, however, is more cautious.

he tolerates Rasputin largely because Alexandra is so convinced of his gifts.

“Needless does however, a times urge caution, but his reluctance to challenge his wife only fuels the impression that the imperial household is being steered not by the Tsar, but by the Empress.”

As such, Rasputin's presence is even more alarming to courtiers and ministers. Here is a peasant mystic sitting in private audiences with a Tsarina whispering advice on matters of the state. Brume was a bound that he is not just her confident but her lover.

A suggestion never substantiated, but widely believed.

One of the clerics, who he'd made an enemy of, disseminated letters that the Tsarina had written to Rasputin, which said things like, "I kiss you warmly. I want to sleep with my head on your shoulder." You know, very sort of affectionate letters overly affectionate letters, which seemed to indicate that they were having an affair.

“But they weren't because she was very abusive in her letters to her sisters to everybody.”

But in an age when the monarchy already seems distant from its people, Rasputin's closeness to the Romanos deepens suspicions of decay at the heart of the empire. The rumors of him being with the Tsarina, obviously alienated the aristocrats who felt that the Tsarina was bringing the remnost into disrepute by allowing this sort of very disheveled, unkempt man into the palace.

The clerics disapproved to Rasputin's behavior generally, and then finally, yes, the politicians started to worry about his influence.

But he's also building a reputation for late night drinking sessions, converting with prostitutes, and seducing society women who seek his counsel. Some of these tales are exaggerated, others well-founded. But together they paint a picture of debauchery that clashes violently with his image as a man of God. Newspapers begin to report lurid details, and his name becomes shorthand for scandal. Russia's fledgling parliament, the Duma, created after the 1995 revolution, to give people a voice, is soon beginning to call for his removal.

The Orthodox hierarchy is also growing suspicious, with bishops and priests accusing them of heresy, and attempts are made to investigate or curb his influence.

Yet inside the palace, the Tsarina remains devoted, and the Tsar disinterested in dissuading her.

“Now, on orders from the Prime Minister, the secret police, the Okrana, begin a surveillance operation, hopeful of proving to the Tsar once and for all, the mad monk must be dismissed.”

It's a cool spring night in St. Petersburg, 1912. The rain falls in sheets, slicking the cobblestones and drumming a beat on the window pane. Across the road from a popular city bar, a rented room glows with a single lamp. Inside, two agents from the Okrana sit at a table, littered with papers, half empty vodka glasses, and surveillance files. One of the men is making notes, is pen scratching and insistent pulse over the hum of the city outside.

While the other stairs out of the window, watching their target. In the bar opposite, Regory Rasputin sits at a crowded table when he's heavy as chandeliers, the air thick with cigar smoke and perfume. His black robe is loose at the neck, his hair unkempt, his beard, dark and wiring. Around him, women in pearls and lace lean close, their laughter exaggerated and loud. A waiter leans over to refill the monk's glass.

Rasputin raises it high, his movements theatrical. At the next table, a young man whispers to his companion, eyes fixed on the scene. While the pianist hammers a waltz that can barely compete with the noise. As the night's deepens, oblivious to the surveillance from across the road, the tall, imposing peasant from Siberia grows more animated with every toast.

His voice becomes thunderous, his behaviour more erratic, and his gestures more on you. A woman reaches to steady him, but he merely catches her hand and kisses her roughly, the peels of laughter. At last the doors open.

Staggering across the slick street is splashes through puddles with one of the women clinging drunkenly to his arm,

“their laughter cutting through the rain.”

A cab pulls up when he climbs inside. The women and the officer bundling in after, the driver snaps his reins, and the wheels vanish into the dark.

Back in the room across the street, the lamplight flickers and the agents share a smile of satisfaction.

They have proof once more that Rasputin's compromising ties to people of influence might do more than just embarrass the regime.

“In the morning they'll embellish the report, to hammer home to the Tsar, how this kind of behaviour brings the monarchy into disrepute by association.”

It's a decent night's work.

When Nicolas is presented with these increasingly lured accounts, he remains indignant, viewing them as a smear on his wife's judgment, and demands these surveillance is halted.

But even as the scandals surrounding Rasputin grow, these arena insists that he alone can save the air, the dynasty, and perhaps Russia itself. In 1912, while on a family holiday, at a hunting lodge in Spala, Poland, Tsarina Alexander calls on Rasputin to once again heal her ailing son.

“He fell over a boat, damaged his leg, and then as a treat, the Tsarina said, "I'll take you out for a ride when he was so slight you recovering from his leg wound.”

The ride somehow upset his solid. He ended up with quite a serious hemorrhage, and in fact, they thought he was going to die, and Rasputin was in Siberia, the Tsarina's friend and companion, Anna Vribeva, who's quite well known. She contacted Rasputin, who was walking by a river, and he said, "Oh, I had a headache, I knew that the Lexus was ill." One said the boy will not die, and the other one said, "Do not let the doctors bother him too much." And as soon as the telegrams arrived, at Spala, a Lexus started recovering, and from that point on, Rasputin could do no wrong.

With his divine right confirmed in the Tsarina's eyes once more, she doubles down on her defensive him. Every time Rasputin seems cornered by public opinion, Alexander steps into support him. To her, these are malicious slanders against God's chosen servant, and the man she once described as Christ in miniature. Outside the palace walls, Rasputin symbolizes the secrecy, corruption, and decadence that threatened the imperial family's legitimacy, especially as Europe is hurtling towards war. For a few, especially the clergy, there is only one way to stop the problem, and that is to remove him altogether.

In 1914, while at home in Siberia, after another long stint in St. Petersburg, Rasputin is set upon by a fanatical female follower of the de-frocked monk Ilio Dor, one of his fiercest clerical enemies. The woman, who happens to be missing a nose, attacks him on his way home from church, stabbing him in the stomach. The wound is so bad his intestines spill out, and yet he survives. Naturally, he attributes his recovery to divine intervention. When the first World War breaks out, Rashe is plunged into crisis. The empire is still shaken by its humiliating defeat in the Russo-Japanese war a decade earlier, and confidence in the army's leadership is low.

At the start of the conflict, the Azaz cousin, Grand Duke Nicholas, commands the Russian armed forces, but after much campaigning against the Grand Duke, especially from these arena, Azaz Nicholas II makes the fateful decision to take over the job himself. In 1915, Nicholas leaves St. Petersburg to assume direct command of the army at the front.

He then weighed in and was giving all sorts of advice about attacks and whatnot and defenses and things that he didn't really know much about.

Finally, the mystic from Siberia is influencing the highest appointments in the empire.

Ministers rise and fall based on Rasputin's council, and many top positions are given to wholly unsuitable candidates, who are either too old to infirm or too mentally unstable to cope. Tarina would write to has been the front saying that some people were hours, and some people were not hours, so in other words, she divided and mainly hours with the people who were sort of yes men, for the Tsar Tarina and Rasputin, I suppose, and not hours with the enemies out there, the people Rasputin called the Wasps, who were all out after, and there were a lot of them.

Rasputin's enemies accuse him of manipulating Alexandria to control policy. And as the war drags on and goes disastrously for Russia, rumors even swirl that he is a German agent under mining Russia's war effort.

“With the Tsar away at the front, the secret service doubled down on their efforts to prove his misdeeds and force Rasputin out.”

They were worried he was angling for a separate piece of Germany, that he was chatting up German spies in his house in St. Petersburg. I think he did, but there were one or two who visited Germans, and so he was suspected of wanting to negotiate a separate piece, which was horrific to the aristocracy at any rate.

While the while Rasputin's borish behaviour continues unashamedly, given so much fuel, the Ocarana's reports pile up.

Secret meetings, nights of drinking, lured behaviour, relations with women of influence, boasts of divine favour. Every line feeds the growing legend and the growing disgust. But even these reports are unreliable.

“The secret place have a reputation for padding their files with rumor and invention, especially when their superiors expect scandal.”

Some later claim that key details from these surveillance were embellished or simply made up. In trying to expose Rasputin, the Ocarana helped create the very mythology they feared. Nicholas continues to dismiss the reports, but the concern among the people remains that Rasputin is acting as some kind of proxy leader. As the army falters, and the home front seaves with unrest, these arenas confident becomes the lightning rod for popular anger. With Alexander considered hysterical, and the Tsar weak, most believe that Rasputin is the only one running the show behind the scenes.

By late 1916, food is running short, prices are soaring, and soldiers are deserting the front. In the shadows, radical ideas about the complete overthrow of the current system are gaining ground. Even among the ruling class, faith in the monarchy is at an all-time low, and a growing number of aristocrats and politicians believe that Rasputin must be removed if Russia is to be saved. In the Duma, members of parliament rail against him in speeches, church leaders denounce him from their pulpits, even other members of the royal family, urged Nicholas and Alexander to break with him, but the Tsarina's devotion is unshakable.

And so, eventually, a small group of conspirators resolved to take matters into their own hands. Prince Felix Yusufov, husband of the Tsar's only niece, and heir to one of Russia's greatest fortunes, is charming, vain, and restless. Once a favourite at court is now consumed by sense of humiliation, but what Rasputin is done to the family name. A cousin of the Tsar shares Yusufov's outrage, as does Vladimir Puriskevich, a firebrand nationalist, a member of the Duma who provides the political zeal. He sees the mystic as a foreign agent and a traitor, whose removal is nothing less than a patriotic duty.

“Together they believe that killing Rasputin is the only way to save Russia.”

His death will break the Tsarina's obsession, restore faith in the monarchy, and halt the slide towards revolution.

Finally, the plan takes shape. Yusufov offers his family's political townhouse on the Moika River as the setting and begins to plot the method of its execution.

Rasputin would arrive after midnight, and a party would have finished, but the remains of the party would be there.

“A seller was created as a room where the party would have been the fictional party, that is.”

And all Rasputin would be the detritus of the end of the meal, and he was going to meet Felix Yusufov's wife, the beautiful Irina, that was the bait for him. In the eyes of this party, complete with wine and cakes, laced with cyanide. The conspirators hoped to stage the final act in a drama that they believe will rescue the empire itself.

But as with so many cunning schemes, it doesn't quite go according to plan.

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650g for 0.2€ 990g, or "Kulturheidelberen". 125g for 0.1€ 930g in your Aldi Nordfiljale, and weiter geht's einfach lauschen und genießen. Aldi, gut ist für alle. It's late December, 1916, at the moika palace in St. Petersburg. Inside, Prince Yusufov, the host of tonight's devious celebrations, has decked out the seller with the apparent remains of a party. Music plays on a loop from the study above, and the table is set with a white cloth. The festivities appear mostly over, among the debris is a tea set, a decanter of Madeira wine and a plate of sugar cakes.

Because, despite the mess, everything is in fact perfectly arranged, with Yusufov and his co-conspirators having meticulously rehearsed their parts. Now, while Puriskevich, the politician, and the others, wait in the study above, the Prince prepares for his guest. When Rasputin arrives, he does so with his familiar bluster, taking him in the table in all its finery.

At his host's bidding, he sits down, and Yusufov serves him tea. He's offered a cake, and though at first he declines, after trying one, he proceeds to demolish several in quick succession.

The game is on. Yusufov knows exactly how much cyanide they list those cakes with, and even a big man like Rasputin should be easily felled by the dust. They settle into a discussion, but the minutes tick by, and the Siberian shows no cyan of weakening. Soon he demands a glass of wine, and Yusufov gladly gives it, knowing that it's too is poison.

“The first glass goes down easy, and the conversation continues to flow, with the Prince's nerves of failing. Why isn't it working?”

Another glass is poured, and drunk, and another. And now, seeming to smell a rat, Rasputin tells his host that he's wasting his time. You can't do anything to me, he rails. By now, it's 2.30 a.m., and Rasputin hasn't even stumbled. Anxiously, the host excuses himself for a moment, and relays the disaster to pure skivitch, and his co-conspirators who can't believe it either. If poison isn't doing the job, he'll have to use a blunter instrument.

Yusufov returns to the basement with a revolver, and left with no other option, he raises the gun and shoots Rasputin, who clashes onto the beskin rock. On hearing the shot, the others rush down to see their quarry bleeding from the chest. Yusufov's assistant inspects the body, and declares him dead. The job is done. They turn off the light, and head upstairs to congratulate themselves on saving the empire.

There is no pulse, but as he stands to leave, Rasputin's face twitches. And his eyes flash open.

“foaming at the mouth, Rasputin pulls himself to his feet, very much alive, despite already being poisoned and shot.”

Though he lunges at Yusufov, the prince managed to slip out of his grip. He sprints out to warn the others, but before they know what's happening, the door from the cellar flies open, and a bleeding Rasputin crawls out onto the courtyard, blood dripping into the snow. The dooring, like an animal, Rasputin gets to his feet and runs. Pureskivich fires off two shots. Rasputin totters, and then falls into a snow bag.

Yusufov approaches the body, and finds him, finally, dead.

The assassins bundle him into a car, and drive him to the wooden bridge across the river Niva, where they throw him into the icy water below. Like every story about Rasputin, the exact details of that fateful night are uncertain. This bizarre account of his supernatural resistance to death comes from Yusufov's own memoir, written years later, and almost certainly embroidered for effect. The scene he describes is strikingly similar to one in Dostoevsky's "The Land Lady", published long before Rasputin was even born,

which casts further doubt on the fanciful tale.

“The story is then emerged that Rasputin was actually killed with a single bullet in the head from a British secret service agent,”

which in a way seems more likely to me. Whatever the mechanics of his assassination, the outcome remains. Rasputin dies on December 30, 1916. In the days after the murder, Rasputin's body is pulled from beneath the ice of the Niva, one hand raised as if in benediction. When Nyu's reaches the palace, the reaction is mixed.

The Tau's ambivalent by all accounts, the stories he walked away with sling, having heard that Rasputin killed possibly he wasn't even surprised,

“but that Tsarina was absolutely mortified, I mean, if the person that you rely on concluded to save your child somehow has been so hated that he's been murdered, she had to devastated.”

The Tsarina collapses in grief. She orders Rasputin's body to be buried near the royal family's chapel, in a final act of devotion to her favorite holy man and healer. But beyond the palace gates, the capital mostly celebrates his death, healing the conspirators as heroes. For a brief moment, it seems that crime has worked, and that Russia has been freed from the peasant monk who held its throne in thrall. But the relief doesn't last, Rasputin may be gone, but nothing improves. The war is still raging. Russia's armies are being slaughtered at the front, and the railways that once fed the cities are collapsing under the strain.

In flesh and soars, fuel and food become scarce, years of mismanagement, defeat and hardship now come to a head.

The murder of Rasputin is now seen as the first shot of the revolution, because actually everything fell down like a house of cards afterwards.

Within weeks, bread cues stretch through the frozen streets, soldiers grow mutinus, and crowds take to the squares demanding change. Not because Rasputin is dead, but because the country is starving, exhausted by war, and desperate for a government that can save it. worse still, the murder has unintended consequences. Rasputin's death only drives Empress Alexandra further into isolation. Convinced that dark forces are conspiring against her family, she hardens against the duma, and becomes even more determined to rule without compromise.

The very act meant to save the monarchy, instead deepens its crisis. The people were aggravated to the extent that they felt they had nothing to lose anymore. They were just going to wreak havoc. They were losing the war. People were being killed.

The Tsar was basically told, "Your only choices to abdicate need lost control."

The revolutionary movements that have been building for years begin to seize their chance.

“Bolshevik leaders like Lenin and Trotsky, long exiled or operating in secret, now returned to the capital and called for radical change.”

This filled with demonstrations, soldiers deserve the front, and workers strike. When the fragile provisional government now collapses, the Bolsheviks sweep it aside and seize control, plunging Russia into civil war and setting the stage for a new revolutionary state.

Nicholas, Alexandra, and all five of their children, the youngest of whom Alexey is just 13, are slaughtered in the basement of the house in which they are being kept.

And with that, the dynasty that ruled Russia for three centuries is a thing of the past. And yet even as Russia rewrites its story, one figure from the old order refuses to vanish. In death, Rasputin becomes larger than he ever was in life, and his legend is quickly magnified.

To his detractors, he remains the embodiment of corruption, lust and superstition, and symbolizes the disease that poisoned the Russian monarchy from within.

To others, he is a scapegoat, little more than a convenient vessel for Russia's wider failures.

“But can one man really be blamed for a collapsing economy, a disastrous war and a ruling family fatally out of touch with its people?”

What's he really responsible for the revolution? I can't see that. I don't think it's fair to blame him. But it's a pity that they couldn't talk about why he was there, why he was healing the service, which was obviously a huge thing. In the century since his death, Rasputin's story has blurred the line between facts and folklore. Memoirs, propaganda, and myth have twisted him into whatever shape each age required.

“At times he is a devil, a saint, a healer, seducer, or spy.”

The appears in novels, operas and films is piercing stare and black robe instantly recognizable. Stratus becomes a comic creation in a way, hasn't he, because what with the Ra Ra Rasputin and all that? He says a creation like most people are of the people around him. I feel a lot a lot was projected on him, he was just a sort of good time guy, he loves wine, women and soul. Whatever the truth, Rasputin will forever be the mad month. That mystic who rose as the Roman of dynasty was already beginning to fall, and whose story captures the tumultuous twilight moments of imperial Russia.

Next time on short history, I will bring you a short history of the Rwandan genocide. So there's people that want to essentially defect from this, just as there's no case when the Holocaust, they're individuals that say, "I don't want to participate in this." During the Holocaust in these police battalions, if somebody didn't want to participate for the most part, they were allowed to just walk away, turn their back on what was going on. They were probably ridiculed for it, but they weren't killed. For one in case, in many of these circumstances, it's not all, but in many of them, if you didn't participate in the killing, you would be considered complicit and you'd be hacked up to, which increases the odds of people who participate.

That's next time. It's subscriptions for more information.