Red Mutiny (42 page)

Several sailors assured him they would. As the launch cast off, the crew waved their caps goodbye and then broke for a lunch of bread and a dram of vodka. With the promise of meat borscht for dinner and replenished stores of coal and water, they felt hopefull for the first time in days. Their long journey to Theodosia seemed worth the effort, and, once they had their supplies on board, they would be free to fight their revolution—though how to accomplish this, without the rest of the Black Sea Fleet at their side, they had yet to resolve.

On his return to the port, Durante called an emergency city council meeting to decide what to do about the
Potemkin.
Theodosians packed the hall, spilling out into the streets, desperate to know what the
Potemkin
sailors wanted and how the city's residents would be protected. The wealthy were already at the train station, arranging an escape to the countryside.

"Don't disgrace Theodosia," General F. Pleshkov, the garrison commander, beseeched the council almost at once. "Do not accept the demands of these rebels. You'll only raise their morale!"

As soon as the battleship was spotted on its way into the harbor, Pleshkov had sent a stream of telegrams to Vice Admiral Chukhnin as well as the provincial governor in Simferopol, Major General E. N. Volkov. Volkov ordered the garrison commander to protect Theodosia's government buildings and to use military force "energetically" to crush any disorder. Yet he said nothing about whether to supply the battleship with key provisions, such as coal and water. As for the Black Sea Fleet commander, he had already sent orders around the region to deny the
Potemkin
supplies, but he had not informed Pleshkov how he would protect the city if they stuck to this course. Volkov believed that supplying a mutinous battleship would go against the vice admiral's order. Mayor Durante, on the other hand, stated that the Black Sea Fleet commander had not yet informed either Pleshkov or the mayor as to how he intended to save their city. Until he did so, the mayor had to act in the interest of the city in whatever way he thought best.

"Having just returned from the ironclad," Durante said, "I can only give my vote in support of satisfying their demands." He re-counted to the council how well he and the other visitors to the ship had been treated and how the crew was far from the disorderly, riotous mob that they had been told to expect. Finally, he insisted that bombardment was a grave danger, and he did not dare deny the sailors' requests. Applause followed his remarks.

"We've no moral duty to satisfy their demands. They're traitors," a council member countered. Several workers whistled him down.

Although Pleshkov and the police chief, Colonel M. Zagoskin, suspected that Durante simply wanted to protect his vast real-estate holdings in the city, they failed to dissuade the council and, absent a specific order from the provincial governor to the contrary, the mayor had the votes to meet the
Potemkin
's demands. Knowing this, Pleshkov pleaded with the council to deliver only food and medicine to the sailors. Until they heard back from Simferopol, he argued, they should not send coal or water. Reluctantly, the council approved this compromise.

Once the meeting disbanded, Durante returned to his office. As a barge was loaded with supplies, Durante telegrammed the provincial governor: "I was summoned to the battleship
Potemkin.
They demanded provisions and coal in a very modest amount. The city was threatened with bombardment if they were refused. They have been entreated by me not to come ashore, and promised they would not, if they received their supplies. The public wants their demands fulfilled. The city is in panic. The situation is dangerous. Request instructions. Because of the extreme situation and insistent public demands, need to send provisions."

At his headquarters, General Pleshkov impatiently waited for additional orders from Major General Volkov that would clarify that he was to reject
all
of the
Potemkin's
demands, despite the consequences. With a limited garrison, a couple thousand workers who had already gone on strike in recent days, and several hundred court-martialed Russian soldiers held in the city's prison, the risks were substantial. The
Potemkin
could easily capture Theodosia—or, at the least, it could instigate the kind of uprising that Odessa had suffered. Nonetheless, Pleshkov despised the mayor's meekness and expected that his superiors would direct him to restrict any further assistance to the battleship, even under threat of attack.

Under the glare of the hot afternoon sun, the sailors congregated on the
Potemkin's
forecastle after their tasteless lunch, for another round of speeches. Matyushenko mounted the capstan first to raise the crew's spirits after their turn of good fortune in Theodosia. In his hand he held a proclamation from St. Petersburg that Kirill had found while in the port. It promised that the tsar was using the sternest measures to crush their rebellion. Noting the proclamation, Matyushenko implored the crew to resist any attempts to end what was nothing less than a fight for all the Russian people. His words encouraged the crew, and Kirill and Koshuba followed with speeches of their own. Yet despite their efforts, they sensed fear and doubt among the sailors at a level nonexistent even in the mutiny's early days. It could not be dispelled by a few inspiring words.

At 3
P.M.
, a barge dropped anchor at the
Potemkin
's side, finally bringing the provisions they had requested. The crew sprang into action, throwing open the hatchways, to take on board the much-needed supplies. A sailor hitched a rope to the windlass and lowered the noosed end under the front legs of one of the four oxen lowing on the barge. A signal was given, and the ox rose toward the main deck. Other crew members unloaded medicine, machine oil, and sacks of flour, bread, and potatoes as well as eggs, tea, sugar, a cage of ducks, and a barrel of wine. The men could almost taste their next meal. But coal and water were conspicuously absent.

Before they could ask whether these other supplies would arrive on a second barge, a sloop approached the
Potemkin,
carrying the tall clerk who had accompanied the mayor during his visit to the battleship. Beside him was a French photographer, who asked if he could take some pictures for his newspaper's readers. As the Frenchman toured the decks, snapping photographs of the men in bold poses at their stations, the clerk met with Matyushenko and Feldmann on the bridge. He explained that the garrison commander had argued against delivering coal and water—despite the mayor's best efforts. This arrangement was unacceptable, Matyushenko warned him. The clerk then explained that the provincial governor was expected to arrive in Theodosia before the day's end. He might possibly overrule General Pleshkov. Matyushenko dismissed the clerk from the battleship.

The sailor committee met briefly, electing to send Kirill and Reznichenko back to the port to convince the garrison commander of the danger of stonewalling. Before they left, a steamer entered the harbor. The
Potemkin
signaled it to come alongside.

"Have you heard anything from Russia?" a sailor asked the steamer's crew members. They were desperate for news from Sevastopol.

"Didn't you read the newspapers?" one answered.

"Not for a long time!"

A few minutes later a sailor on the steamer tossed across a bundle of international and Russian newspapers. A knife was quickly brought forward to cut the cord around the pile. The
Potemkin
crew devoured the news. The rumor they had heard in Constanza was confirmed: a destroyer, staffed completely by officers, was hunting them down. With false bravado, the sailors laughed off this desperate move by Chukhnin, despite having searched the horizon for the past several days, guns at the ready, for their pursuers. Also, the newspapers briefly mentioned a failed mutiny aboard the transport ship
Prut
and rumors of uprisings on the
Ekaterina II
and the
Sinop
as well. The possibility of further mutinies enlivened the crew, but only briefly. They then read a report about the
St. George's
fate, detailing how sixty-Seven men had been arrested after their fellow sailors had turned them in. Each faced a court-martial and likely a death sentence. This news, coming directly after the disappointing hedging from Theodosia's authorities, blackened the crew's mood even more.

Disturbed by these events, Kirill accompanied Reznichenko on an oar boat towed by a launch into the port. The small boat's bow occasionally dipped into a wave, soaking the sailors' pants and shoes. As they neared one of the quays, they released their boat from the launch so it could return to the
Potemkin,
in case the crew needed the launch for supply deliveries. Then Kirill and Reznichenko rowed to shore. More workers had crowded into the port since the morning, and this time a company of soldiers cut off the sailors as they stepped onto the quay.

"Don't let them pass," their officer ordered.

Stirred with anger, Kirill marched forward, stopping only when his chest touched the tip of a young soldier's bayonet. "Stab me!" he taunted.

The soldier stepped back, casting glances from Kirill to his commanding officer and back again, not sure what to do.

"Stab!" Kirill repeated, pushing against the blade point again, this time feeling the tip sharp against his chest. "I'm a mutineer! We believe the government and your superiors are evil. They rob us and they spill our blood. If you think this false, stab me now. I won't move."

The soldier finally lowered his rifle.

"If you really understand," Kirill said, "then stab your officer, who sends you like a dog to kill people that fight for a just cause."

A few moments passed. Nobody moved. Then the company commander ordered his soldiers to turn and march away, avoiding further confrontation.

Inspired by this success but still fuming, Kirill mounted the deck of a nearby ship and shouted to the stevedores unloading its cargo: "We're now fighting under the revolutionary flag. We will continue until our last breath. Let the people join us. Whoever is against us, let them go to the side of our enemies. It's the people who will share our victory. It's the people we will die to save.

The workers hollered their approval. But when Kirill and Reznichenko traveled into the town, General Pleshkov rebuffed their attempts to speak with him, turning them away from his headquarters. When they returned to the
Potemkin,
just before dusk, the sailor committee met. Everyone in the wardroom knew they were lost without coal and water. They would have to bombard the town if the provincial governor failed to bow to their demands. Kirill argued strenuously for taking this action. Matyushenko assented. Senior boatswain Murzak drafted an ultimatum to be delivered after midnight, giving Theodosia's authorities until 10
A.M.
the following morning to send the supplies—or the
Potemkin
would open fire.

Once the ultimatum was typed, there was little to do but prepare the ship for the attack and wait. As the hours ticked past, the
Stremitelny
drew ever nearer to Theodosia.

Across the Black Sea, one hundred miles east of the Bulgarian coast, the destroyer was on the move again. Lieutenant Yanovich had started the day in Varna, where he had taken on more coal and had repairs made to the torpedo-launching mechanisms, which had been suspiciously damaged for the second time. At 4:45
A.M.
he received a telegram from Vice Admiral Chukhnin, pressing him to find and sink the mutinous battleship. Before the
Stremitelny
left Varna an hour later, Yanovich learned from a Bulgarian merchant ship captain that the
Potemkin
was suspected to have been seen near Sevastopol. With this new information, Yanovich charted a course for the Crimea.

On the way, the destroyer stopped a British steamer and learned from its captain that the
Potemkin
was harbored in Theodosia. Finally Yanovich had a definite location. He and the other officers aboard the destroyer were grimly determined to accomplish their mission. They would pause briefly in Yalta, a short journey from their target, to bring on more coal. Given no delays and traveling at full steam to Theodosia, they would have the battleship in their sights by noon the next day, June 23.

But down in the engine room, the stoker, L. Pykhtin, aimed to stop Yanovich from so much as reaching the
Potemkin.
Social Democrats in Sevastopol had learned all about the
Stremitelny
's mission before it left the naval base—the information came from the maid of the destroyer's former commander; she reported that he had come home after hearing of his dismissal, and he spoke of his distress. Pykhtin, a merchant sailor and revolutionary, worked for the chief mechanic of the steamer
Volga,
P. Kuzyayev. A former naval officer, Kuzyayev had volunteered to join Yanovich. Pykhtin asked his chief mechanic for a job on the
Stremitelny.
Nobody bothered to make a background check of the stoker, who had been fired from Sevastopol's port the year before for subversive activities. From the minute he came aboard, he plotted to sabotage the destroyer. With the help of the torpedo quartermaster Babenko (who had since been dismissed), they had kept the
Stremitelny
from arriving in Constanza before the
Potemkin
left. The effort was not without cost. Their disabling of the torpedoes alerted Yanovich to the possibility that the few sailors he had brought to perform the more grueling tasks of running the destroyer might be working against him.

Even under the officers' close watch, Pykhtin found a new way to spoil the
Stremitelny'
s mission. As it steamed toward the Crimean coast, he and several other sailors fed the furnaces with a type of coal that burned at an extremely high temperature. It would take time, but eventually the intense heat would disable the furnaces, shutting down the engines. The critical question was whether this would occur before they were caught or before the
Stremitelny
found the
Potemkin.