had the opportunity to convince themselves that perfect order reigned in
the capital, thanks to the Petrograd garrison, which unanimously
supported the Soviet government. The Cossacks' disorganization became
the more acute as the absurdity of the plan to take Petrograd with some
thousand horsemen dawned upon them--for the supports promised them from
the front never arrived.

Krassnov's detachment withdrew to Gatchinsk, and when we started out
thither the next day, Krassnov's staff were already virtually prisoners
of the Cossacks themselves. Our Gatchinsk garrison was holding all the
most important military positions. The Cossacks, on the other hand,
though not yet disarmed, were absolutely in no position for further
resistance. They wanted but one thing: to be allowed as soon as possible
to return to the Don region or, at least, back to the front.

The Gatchinsk Palace presented a curious sight. At every entrance stood
a special guard, while at the gates were artillery and armored cars.
Sailors, soldiers and Red Guards occupied the royal apartments,
decorated with precious paintings. Scattered upon the tables, made of
expensive wood, lay soldiers' clothes, pipes and empty sardine boxes. In
one of the rooms General Krassnov's staff had established itself. On the
floor lay mattresses, caps and greatcoats.

The representative of the Revolutionary War Committee, who escorted us,
entered the quarters of the General Staff, noisily dropped his
rifle-butt to the floor and resting upon it, announced: "General
Krassnov, you and your staff are prisoners of the Soviet authorities."
Immediately armed Red Guards barred both doors. Kerensky was nowhere to
be seen. He had again fled, as he had done before from the Winter
Palace. As to the circumstances attending this flight, General Krassnov