regret the sacrifice; we bring it willingly.

Led on by the strange, hypnotic power of the mystical Father Gapon, who was
clad in the robes of his office, tens of thousands of working-people
marched that day to the Winter Palace, confident that the Czar would see
them, receive their petitions, and harken to their prayers. It was not a
revolutionary demonstration in the accepted sense of that term; the
marchers did not carry red flags nor sing Socialist songs of revolt.
Instead, they bore pictures of the Czar and other members of the royal
family and sang "God Save the Czar" and other well-known religious hymns.
No attempt was made to prevent the procession from reaching the square in
front of the Winter Palace. Suddenly, without a word of warning, troops
appeared from the courtyards, where they were hidden, and fired into the
crowded mass of human beings, killing more than five hundred and wounding
nearly three thousand. All who were able to do so turned and fled, among
them Father Gapon.

Bloody Sunday, as the day is known in Russian annals, is generally regarded
as the beginning of the First Revolution. Immediately people began to talk
of armed resistance. On the evening of the day of the tragedy there was a
meeting of more than seven hundred Intellectuals at which the means for
carrying on revolution was the topic discussed. This was the first of many
similar gatherings which took place all over Russia. Soon the Intellectuals
began to organize unions, ostensibly for the protection of their
professional interests, but in reality for political purposes. There were
unions of doctors, writers, lawyers, engineers, professors, editors, and so
on. Quietly, and almost without design, there was being effected another
and more important union, namely, the union of all classes against
autocracy and despotism.