The assassination of the Minister of Internal Affairs V.K. Pleve on July 15, 1904

Vyacheslav Pleve was born in the small town of Meshchovsk in the Kaluga province on April 20, 1846. He was the only son of a nobleman and the daughter of a landowner, who were engaged in teaching. The boy started school in Warsaw, and during his stays there in 1863, the Polish uprising broke out. Later, he recalled that students had to take part in maintaining public order on the streets. To ensure Vyacheslav’s safety, he was sent to relatives in Kaluga, where he graduated from gymnasium with a gold medal. Then Pleve enrolled in the law faculty of Moscow University, where he proved himself to be a promising graduate. In 1867, he was assigned to serve under the prosecutor of the Moscow District Court with the rank of collegiate secretary. Pleve stood out for his phenomenal memory and unique work capacity. Emperor Alexander II noticed the young man and recommended him to the Minister of Internal Affairs, Mikhail Loris-Melikov. On the initiative of such high-ranking officials, he was involved in investigating especially important state cases, including those investigating assassination attempts on the emperor.

Alexander III also trusted Pleve and appointed him head of the Police Department. In his new position, he created a large-scale intelligence network, thanks to which people working for the government infiltrated all revolutionary structures in the country. In less than three years, the Police Department sent some leaders of the “People’s Will” to the scaffold, others to penal servitude. Pleve also compiled a list of newspapers and magazines that incited anti-government activities with their free-thinking. Having become a senator and deputy minister of internal affairs, he aimed to completely eradicate all revolutionary sentiments. Pleve claimed that if the living conditions of workers and peasants improved, they themselves would not fall for revolutionary agitation.

Nicholas II, who ascended the throne, relied on Pleve’s experience. But times were changing, the actions of the opposition became increasingly sophisticated, and it was necessary to look for other ways to solve problems, which Pleve, for some reason, did not do. After the assassination of Minister of Internal Affairs Sipyagin, he took his place. In this post, he actively targeted workers’ circles, rebellious peasants, and students. Pleve initially supported the creation of alternative workers’ organizations under state control, the so-called “Zubatov socialism.”

Pleve did not believe in the constant growth of the revolutionary movement, considered that the Russian people were loyal to the throne, and that only isolated groups causing public discontent needed to be neutralized. He strengthened the police, expanded its powers, and increased funding. Pleve believed that all criminal actions of socialists were carried out on the orders of foreign organizations seeking a cheap raw material base in Russia.

However, Pleve was criticized from all sides. The minister was considered indirectly responsible for the Jewish pogrom in Kishinev in April 1903, during which 43 people were killed, 586 wounded, and more than 1,500 houses destroyed. Chairman of the Committee of Ministers Sergey Witte claimed that Pleve was one of those who pushed the country toward war with Japan. It was said that the idea of a “small victorious war” came from him.

The assassination was organized by the Combat Organization of the Socialist Revolutionaries, who considered terror the only effective method of struggle. The operation, led by Yevno Azef, was called the “March on Pleve.” The plan was as follows: study the routes of the minister’s weekly trips to Tsarskoye Selo for reports to Nicholas II and then send a group of militants to a predetermined place. Azef personally selected the candidates and appointed Boris Savinkov as the leader and communications coordinator. The assassination attempt was planned for March 18, 1904. But the operation failed: suspecting he was being watched, David Borishansky did not throw the bomb, although he was in an excellent position to do so. The next attempt was scheduled for March 24. Alexey Pokotilov and Borishansky, who personally wanted to redeem himself in the eyes of his party comrades, took the route. However, that day the carriage with V. K. Pleve took a different route. The next attempt was scheduled for April 1, but Alexey Pokotilov died on the night before the assassination in the “Severnaya” hotel from a bomb that exploded in his hands. The police began an investigation. All members of Savinkov’s group hurriedly left St. Petersburg. The assassination attempt was postponed indefinitely.

In connection with this, Yevno Azef gathered everyone in Switzerland and, first of all, expelled from the party those he considered cowards, reprimanded Savinkov, and demanded that the Central Committee replenish the “combat organization” fund. The next assassination attempt was scheduled for July 15 (28). Borishansky, carrying a bomb, went first and was supposed to let Pleve’s carriage pass by him. Behind him was Yegor Sozonov — the main thrower. Then came Ivan Kalyayev and Shimel-Leiba Sikorsky, who were to carry out the assassination if Sozonov missed. And if the carriage turned back, Borishansky was to finish the job. At the sight of the carriage, Sozonov stepped off the sidewalk and threw a bomb at it. Pleve was killed on the first try. Later, after recovering in prison from the injuries sustained during the attempt, Sozonov wrote in his memoirs that on that day he prayed that the victim would not survive.

In 1904, in St. Petersburg on Izmailovsky Prospect, the Socialist Revolutionary student Yegor Sozonov killed Minister of Internal Affairs Vyacheslav Konstantinovich Pleve by throwing a bomb into the window of his carriage, for which he was sentenced to life penal servitude. Sozonov himself was seriously wounded by the bomb explosion and attempted to shoot himself. The success of the assassination was facilitated by the fact that the minister traveled to the Baltic Station by the same route, and his guard was for the first time transferred from horses to bicycles and could not reach the minister’s carriage in time.

Writer and memoirist Sergey Rudolfovich Mintzlov recalled: “At half past ten in the morning, I learned that Pleve had been killed. I took a cabman and immediately rushed to the scene — to the ‘Warsaw Hotel.’ People were walking and running along Izmailovsky Prospect in the same direction; a Red Cross carriage passed me. They did not let me go to the station; I got off the cab and pushed into the crowd, which completely blocked the pavements on both sides. Foot and mounted police were everywhere. In the middle of the roadway opposite the hotel entrance lay scattered fragments of the carriage; torn to shreds seat cushions and a bloodstained hat; they had not yet been removed; several bloodstains glowed on the stones.

The huge multi-story building housing the hotel stood without windows; the buildings opposite and nearby also had broken windows. There were several eyewitnesses of the explosion in the crowd; the doorman of the opposite building told me the following. Two gentlemen were standing at the hotel entrance, one tall and stout, apparently waiting for someone. Just then, the carriage carrying Pleve to the station approached them — one of them threw a bomb, and there was a deafening explosion.

The carriage was blown to smithereens. The coachman was thrown onto the bridge and was carried to the hospital dead; the horses were mutilated. The minister remained on the spot in a terribly disfigured state, with the lower part of his face torn off: it was horrible to look at him. A greatcoat was thrown over the body.

The bomb throwers were wounded: one fell, the other stood with a bloodied neck, holding onto the cast-iron post of the entrance canopy, staggering. Besides them, up to 16 passersby and residents of nearby houses were reportedly injured; one cabman’s horses had a broken leg.”

The head of the Socialist Revolutionary Combat Organization, Boris Savinkov, recalled: “On July 15 (28), between 8 and 9 in the morning, I met Sozonov at the Nikolaevsky station and Kalyaev at the Warsaw station. They were dressed the same as a week ago: Sozonov as a railway employee, Kalyaev as a doorman. Borishansky and Sikorsky arrived on the next train from Dvinsk, where they had lived the last days. While I was meeting comrades, Dulebov harnessed a horse in his yard and came to the Northern Hotel, where Schweizer lived then. Schweizer got into his carriage and by the beginning of ten o’clock distributed bombs at the designated place — on Officer and Trade streets behind the Mariinsky Theater. The largest twelve-pound bomb was intended for Sozonov. It was cylindrical, wrapped in newspaper, and tied with a string. Kalyaev’s bomb was wrapped in a handkerchief. Kalyaev and Sozonov did not hide their devices. They carried them openly in their hands. Borishansky and Sikorsky hid their bombs under their cloaks.

The transmission this time went perfectly. Schweizer went home, Dulebov stood by the Technological Institute on Zagorodny Prospect. Here he was to wait for me to learn the results of the assassination attempt. Matseyevsky stood with his carriage on the Obvodny Canal. The others, i.e., Sozonov, Kalyaev, Borishansky, Sikorsky, and I gathered at the Church of the Intercession on Sadovaya. From here, the throwers, one after another, in the agreed order — first Borishansky, second Sozonov, third Kalyaev, and fourth Sikorsky — were to go along English Avenue and Drovyanaya Street to the Obvodny Canal and, turning along the canal past the Baltic and Warsaw stations, meet Pleve on Izmailovsky Prospect.

The timing was calculated so that at an average walking pace, they should meet Pleve on Izmailovsky Prospect between the Obvodny Canal and the 1st company. They walked forty steps apart to avoid detonation from the explosion. Borishansky was to let Pleve pass and then block his way back to the dacha. Sozonov was to throw the first bomb.

It was a clear sunny day. When I approached the square of the Intercession Church, I saw this scene. Sozonov, sitting on a bench, was telling Sikorsky in detail and animatedly where and how to drown the bomb. Sozonov was calm and seemed to have forgotten about himself. Sikorsky listened attentively. In the distance, on a bench, with his usual impassive face, sat Borishansky; further away, by the church gates, stood Kalyaev, who took off his cap and crossed himself before the icon.

I approached him:

- Yanek!

He turned, crossing himself:

- Is it time?

I looked at my watch. It was twenty minutes past nine.

- Of course, it is. Go.

Borishansky lazily got up from the far bench. He leisurely went to Peterhof Prospect. Sozonov and Sikorsky followed him. I watched them with my eyes. Sozonov’s uniform buttons gleamed in the sun. He carried his bomb in his right hand between his shoulder and elbow. It was clear that it was hard for him to carry.

I turned back along Sadovaya and went out onto Voznesensky to Izmailovsky Prospect, calculating to meet the throwers on the same stretch between the 1st company and the Obvodny Canal. From the street’s appearance, I guessed that Pleve was about to pass. The police and city guards looked alert. At some corners, sentries stood.

When I reached the Seventh company of the Izmailovsky regiment, I saw a city guard at the corner stand at attention. At the same moment, on the bridge over the Obvodny Canal, I noticed Sozonov.

He walked, as before, with his head held high and holding the device at his shoulder. Immediately behind me, I heard a loud trot, and a carriage with black horses rushed past. There was no footman on the shafts, but at the left rear wheel rode a detective, who later turned out to be Friedrich Hartmann, an agent of the security department. Behind were two more detectives in their own carriage harnessed to a black trotter. I recognized Pleve’s departure.

A few seconds passed. Sozonov disappeared into the crowd, but I knew he was now walking along Izmailovsky Prospect parallel to the Warsaw Hotel. Those few seconds seemed endlessly long. Suddenly, a heavy and strange sound burst into the monotonous street noise. It was as if someone struck a cast-iron hammer on a cast-iron plate. At the same moment, the broken window glass rattled plaintively. I saw a narrow funnel of gray-yellow, almost black smoke at the edges, rise from the ground. This column, widening, engulfed the entire street at the height of the fifth floor. It dispersed as quickly as it rose. It seemed to me that I saw some black fragments in the smoke.

At first, I was breathless. But I was expecting the explosion and therefore recovered faster than others. I ran diagonally across the street to the Warsaw Hotel. Already running, I heard someone’s frightened voice: “Don’t run: there will be another explosion…”

When I reached the explosion site, the smoke had already dispersed. It smelled of burning. About four steps from the sidewalk, on the dusty pavement, I saw Sozonov. He was half-lying on the ground, leaning on his left hand on the stones and tilting his head to the right side. His cap had fallen off, and his dark chestnut curls fell on his forehead. His face was pale, with streams of blood running down his forehead and cheeks. His eyes were cloudy and half-closed.

Below his stomach began a dark bloodstain that spread into a large pool of blood at his feet.

I bent over him and looked at his face for a long time. Suddenly, the thought flashed through my head that he was dead, and immediately behind me, I heard someone’s voice:

= And the minister? They say the minister passed by.

Then I decided that Pleve was alive, and Sozonov was dead.

I was still standing over Sozonov. A pale police officer with a trembling jaw (as I later learned, personally known to me, officer Perepelitsyn) approached me. Waving his hands weakly in white gloves, he spoke confusedly and quickly:

- Go away… Sir, go away…

I turned and walked straight along the pavement toward the Warsaw station. Leaving, I did not notice that a few steps from Sozonov lay Pleve’s mutilated corpse and the carriage fragments. A crowd of people ran toward me from the Obvodny Canal: a crowd of stonemasons in aprons dusty with brick dust. They were shouting something. Crowds of people were also running along the sidewalks. I walked against this crowd and remembered one thing:

- Pleve is alive. Sozonov is dead.

I wandered around the city for a long time until I mechanically came out to the Technological Institute. Dulebov was still waiting for me there. I got into his carriage.

- Well, what? — he turned to me.

- Pleve is alive…

- And Yegor?

- Dead.

Dulebov’s eyes strangely twisted, and suddenly his cheeks twitched. But he said nothing. About five minutes later, he turned to me again:

- What now?

- On the way back at four o’clock.

He nodded. Then I said:

- At three o’clock, I will give you the device. Be again at the Technological Institute.

After saying goodbye to him, I went to the Yusupov Garden, where, in case of a failed assassination, the surviving throwers were to gather. I hoped that not all of them were arrested and that their bombs were intact. I wanted to arrange a second assassination attempt on Pleve on his return trip from Peterhof to the dacha. We knew that he usually returned from the tsar between 3 and 4 p.m. The throwers were to be Dulebov, me, and those who survived.

I found no one in the Yusupov Garden.

Kalyaev followed Sozonov all the time, keeping a distance of forty steps. When Sozonov climbed the bridge over the Obvodny Canal, Kalyaev saw that he suddenly quickened his pace. Kalyaev realized that he had noticed the carriage. When Pleve caught up with Sozonov, Kalyaev was already on the bridge and saw the explosion from above, saw the carriage explode. He stopped indecisively. It was unclear whether Pleve was killed or not, whether to throw the second bomb or if it was already unnecessary.

As he stood on the bridge, bloodied horses dragged fragments of wheels past him. Crowds of people ran by.

Seeing that only wheels remained of the carriage, he realized that Pleve was killed. He turned toward the Warsaw station and slowly walked toward Sikorsky. On the way, a janitor stopped him.

- What’s going on there?

- I don’t know.

The janitor looked suspiciously.

- You’re coming from there, aren’t you?

- Well, yes, from there.

- So how do you not know?

- How would I know? They say they were carrying a cannon, it exploded…

Kalyaev drowned his bomb in the ponds and, according to the plan, left St. Petersburg on the 12 o’clock train to Kiev.

Borishansky heard the explosion behind him, shards of glass rained down on his head. Having made sure that Pleve was not returning, Borishansky, like Kalyaev, drowned his device and left St. Petersburg.

Sikorsky, as we could expect, failed his task. Instead of going to Petrovsky Park and taking a boat without a boatman to go to the seaside, he took a boat from the Mining Institute to cross the Neva and, in front of the boatman, near the battleship “Slava” under construction, threw his bomb into the water. The boatman, noticing this, asked what he was throwing. Sikorsky, without answering, offered him 10 rubles. Then the boatman took him to the police.

Sikorsky’s bomb was not found for a long time, and his participation in Pleve’s assassination remained unproven until, finally, in the autumn, workers of the fishery Kolotilin accidentally pulled this bomb out with a net and presented it to the Baltic Plant office.

Finding no one in the Yusupov Garden, I went to the baths on Kazachy Lane, asked for a room, and lay down on the couch. I lay there until two o’clock, when, according to my calculations, it was time to look for Schweizer and prepare for the second assassination attempt on Pleve. Going out onto Nevsky, I mechanically bought the latest telegram from a newsboy, thinking it was from the theater of military operations. A portrait of Pleve and his obituary were printed prominently in a mourning frame.

At the beginning of the eleventh hour, the wounded Sozonov was transferred to the Alexandrovskaya hospital for laborers, where, in the presence of Minister of Justice Muravyov, he underwent surgery. During interrogation, according to the rules of the combat organization, he refused to give his name or any testimony.

He sent us the following letter from prison:

“When I was arrested, my face was one continuous bruise, my eyes were out of their sockets, I was almost fatally wounded in the right side, two toes were torn off my left foot, and the sole was shattered. Agents, disguised as doctors, woke me up, agitated me, told me horrors about the explosion. They slandered the ‘Jewish’ Sikorsky in every possible way… It was torture for me!

The enemy is infinitely vile, and it is dangerous to fall into his hands wounded. I ask you to convey this to freedom. Farewell, dear comrades! Greetings to the rising sun — freedom!

Dear brothers and comrades! My drama is over. I do not know if I played my role correctly to the end, but for the trust given to me, I express my greatest gratitude. You gave me the opportunity to experience moral satisfaction incomparable to anything in the world. This satisfaction drowned out the suffering I had to endure after the explosion. As soon as I came to after the operation, I sighed with relief. Finally, it was over. I was ready to sing and shout with joy. When the explosion happened, I lost consciousness. Coming to, not knowing how seriously I was wounded, I wanted to escape captivity, but my hand was unable to reach the revolver.”

Emperor Nicholas II and his wife Alexandra Feodorovna sent the following telegram to the widow of the Minister of Internal Affairs, Zinaida Nikolaevna Pleve: “It is difficult to comfort with words, but believe in the feelings of Our sincere condolences for your heavy and unexpected grief. May the Lord strengthen you and your family in the trial sent by Him. ALEXANDRA. NICHOLAS.”

In addition, the Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna expressed her condolences: “I am shocked by the news of the heinous crime and the terrible misfortune that struck you so cruelly. I sincerely express my heartfelt sympathy for your deep sorrow. MARIA.”

At the same time, most of the Russian public reacted indifferently to Pleve’s death. Cadet V. P. Obninsky noted: “The assassinations of Ministers of Internal Affairs Sipyagin and Pleve produced a strange impression on the population of St. Petersburg. It positively, though silently, approved these terrible acts.” L. Tikhomirov wrote in his diary: “I have not heard a single word of regret about Pleve himself. He did no good to anyone. Everyone was fed up with him.”

He was buried in St. Petersburg at the Novodevichy Cemetery in the family crypt; the grave was considered lost. In fact, the exact location of the grave was indicated in the directory “All Petersburg,” published in 1914. In 2018, the grave was restored, and a monument was erected at the burial site.

Sources:

https://www.liveinternet.ru/users/5571010/post332560378/

https://ru.wikipedia.org/wiki/Плеве,_Вячеслав_Константинович

https://polipip.livejournal.com/84068.html

https://dzen.ru/a/Yhia3T5PhQDadVqQ

https://humus.livejournal.com/3971704.html

https://maysuryan.livejournal.com/1139322.html

https://uctopuockon-pyc.livejournal.com/4544340.html

Source: S. R. Mintzlov. Petersburg in 1903-1910. Publisher Salamandra P.V.V. 2012