Authors: Neal Bascomb
After they left, the delegation that brought the ultimatum to Kakhanov returned to the
Potemkin.
General Kakhanov had refused them. Despite the threat of two battleships in the harbor, he agreed to send only a package of medical supplies. With Cossacks patrolling the shorelines, preventing any further deliveries to the
Potemkin,
Kakhanov was obviously spoiling for a fight. The sailors agreed to give him exactly that if he failed to change his mind by evening. They would no longer wait twenty-four hours.
A crew led by Kirill commandeered a coal barge in the port, and the
Ismail
towed it alongside the battleship. After two sojourns out to sea during the confrontation with the squadron, they needed to replenish their supplies. Unaware of the strife on the
St. George,
most of the
Potemkin
crew cheerfully loaded the coal into the hold, the sailors' white jerseys turning black from the dust. They appeared united as never before. The sight heartened Matyushenko and his fellow leaders. Once they were finished and the armed party had been sent to the
St. George
rid their sister battleship of its petty officers, the combined might of the two battleships could be turned on Odessa to free the people. Lulled into overconfidence after success against the squadron, they were blind to how tenuous were the ties that bound their revolutionary squadron.
In the late afternoon, a light rain began to fall when port official Romanenko, "a red-nosed man with the typical Bourbon profile," as Feldmann described him, pulled alongside the
Potemkin
in a cutter flying a white flag. Romanenko came aboard to inform the sailors that he had brought some provisions. He also offered to facilitate negotiations between the sailors and General Kakhanov. Something about his manner and convoluted descriptions of the state of the city gave the sailors the impression that he was stalling for time, but they neglected to confront him on it.
By 4
P.M.
, with Romanenko still on board and an hour after the armed guard had left with Golenko, Matyushenko began to get nervous about the
St. George.
The
Potemkin
delegation had yet to signal once with an update. Nonetheless, when the
St. George's
decks cleared, he and everybody else thought it was because of the worsening downpour. At first.
When Dr. Golenko revisited the
St. George,
he called the crew together on the quarterdeck to inform them of the
Potemkin
's decisions: first, every petty officer on the
St. George
was to be arrested; second, the two battleships would shell Odessa into oblivion that evening. Golenko offered no explanations, as if the decisions had come as fiat from the
Potemkin
superiors. As he suspected, the sailors reacted angrily to his remarks. Some insisted they would not shell the city nor turn over any of their crew because the
Potemkin
had so ordered it. Boatswain Kuzmenko and his co-conspirators had obviously succeeded in stirring up resentment against the
Potemkin
on the
St. George.
Then Golenko made his move. "Most of the
Potemkin
crew wants to end the mutiny.... But they're afraid of the revolutionaries. The
St. George
must serve as an example, weighing anchor and sailing to Sevastopol."
Koshuba and the armed guard could barely believe the doctor's words. For a few seconds, they were too dumbstruck to stop him.
"I'll personally defend, before the Black Sea Fleet command, anyone who helps end this mutiny," the doctor promised.
Finally, Koshuba and the two
Potemkin
committee members tried to grab Golenko, but he escaped into the crowd of sailors. Confusion reigned on the quarterdeck; nobody was quite sure what was the truth or whom to follow, exactly as Kuzmenko had planned. While Golenko spoke, a petty officer raised the anchor until it was only several feet below the water, still hidden from the
Potemkin'
s sight. Several others took command of the engine room and disabled the rifles in the armory. Kuzmenko headed to the bridge, where he ordered a battle alert. The decks cleared.
Koshuba screamed, "Kill the traitors!" He and other revolutionary sailors moved to stop the counter-mutiny, threatening to throw overboard anyone who helped the petty officers. The sailors ignored their threats, and the revolutionaries found that the weapons in the armory had been rendered useless. Their hold over the crew had always been tenuous at best, and the sudden confusion caused by Golenko and the organized resistance of the petty officers gave the counter-mutiny the upper hand. A pair of
Potemkin
sailors tried to escape to get help, but they were arrested and thrown into a cabin.
Kuzmenko received a message that the anchor was raised. He gave his orders to the engine room: full speed ahead.
A sailor ran into the
Potemkin'
s wardroom, nearly knocking Matyushenko over in his rush to report that the
St. George
had weighed anchor. Romanenko explained that the battleship was probably taking up the slack on its anchor chain. Matyushenko pushed him away from the door, and the rest of the committee followed him onto the deck to find the
St. George
steaming past the
Potemkin'
s starboard side, out to sea. Then they received a signal from the escaping battleship: "Going to Sevastopol. We invite the crew of the
Potemkin
to follow."
Matyushenko could not believe what he was seeing; he was at a loss for what to do. By his side, Nikishkin yelled, "Action stations! To the guns, comrades!"
Hundreds of sailors ran to their positions. "Hurry up! Raise the anchor!" some cried out. Others yelled, "There's no time. Stay the anchor and fire! We'll teach these cursed cowards!" Gathering his senses, Matyushenko sprinted to the bridge and, to buy some time while they cast off the coal barge, signaled the
St. George:
"I see you clearly. Wait fifteen minutes. We will go to Sevastopol together." Meanwhile, Romanenko, who had been sent by Kuzmenko to distract the
Potemkin
's crew, slipped off the battleship. He had more yet to do.
Kuzmenko ignored the
Potemkin
's message, leading the battleship out of the harbor. Koshuba and his comrades tried again to gain access to the engine room and bridge, but they were pushed back with rifles, hopelessly outnumbered.
"Heave to and anchor at the same location," Matyushenko then signaled. Still the
St. George
drove forward, faster with each minute. An alarm rang throughout the
Potemkin.
The sailors cleared the decks, finally untied the coal barge, and raised the battle flag over the bridge. Their twelve-inch guns turned slowly on their mounts. A sailor by Matyushenko urged, "We can't let them give up the ship like this. We've got to teach the cowards a lesson." His words were superfluous: Matyushenko intended to destroy the ship if it did not stop. He signaled again. "I shall fire." Several seconds passed. The gun crews held their breath, waiting for the order.
On the
St. George,
the sailors spotted the battle flag and balked at the sight of the gun turrets aimed at them. They demanded Kuzmenko turn around the battleship before they were sunk. Knowing they could not escape to Sevastopol without a fight, the boatswain gave the order to slow the battleship. Then he sent a message to the
Potemkin:
"I am going back to place." Dr. Golenko, terrified that Kuzmenko was about to return to the
Potemkin
's side, rushed the bridge himself, shrieking, "Brothers! This is treason. Push that boatswain overboard." But the terrified petty officers refused to listen.
As the
St. George
swung back into the harbor, the
Potemkin'
s crew yelled at their gunners, "Don't shoot, comrades. It's coming back. It turned back." The crew left their positions, crowding the quarterdeck and shaking their fists at their fellow sailors their betrayal.
Then the
St. George
veered directly toward the
Potemkin.
On its decks, sailors scrambled back and forth, confused about what was happening. Suddenly Kuzmenko shifted course again, heading now toward the port. He followed the small cutter that Romanenko commanded. The
St. George
moved at full steam once again.
"Look, they're turning toward the port," sailors hollered on the
Potemkin.
The had no idea what the
St. George
had planned next. "Order them to stop! Order them to stop!"
Havoc overcame the
Potemkin;
sailors were crying for action but were unsure what to do. The
St. George
maintained its course straight into Odessa's port; its enormous screws were churning the ever-shallower water. Some on the
Potemkin
thought the battleship was out of control, but Kuzmenko knew exactly what he was doing. Romanenko was guiding him. A minute later, the
St. George
shuddered. Sailors were thrown from their feet as the battleship's bow ran aground on the shoals near Platonovsky Wharf. It turned almost ninety degrees to port before stopping.
On the
Potemkin'
s bridge, total chaos reigned. Matyushenko ordered the signalman to send a message to the
St. George
to heave to or they would fire. Hearing these instructions, Ensign Alekseyev fell to his knees, hysterically muttering, "More blood. I can't take it anymore. Free us, dear God, to the shore." The signalman informed the bridge that the
St. George
was permanently beached on the shoals.
While the
Potemkin
leaders wavered as to whether they would destroy the battleship, Dr. Golenko and the counter-mutineers escaped onto Romanenko's cutter. Afraid that the Odessan military would soon converge on the
St. George,
Koshuba and his revolutionary comrades released an oar boat into the water and jumped aboard. The armed guard from the
Potemkin
followed on another boat.
The
Ismail
was sent to meet the launches halfway back to the
Potemkin.
"The doctor's a traitor," Koshuba yelled as the
Ismail
neared. "He betrayed the
St. George'.
"
News of this treason devastated the
Potemkin's,
crew and fueled even more panic. Their mightiest ally against the tsar had abandoned them. "What do we do now?" yelled one sailor. "Sink the
St. George
! Send them a package of bombs," some furiously demanded. "We should go to sea," said others. "To Sevastopol to surrender," a petty officer suggested. But drowning out the many divergent cries came the shout, "To Romania! To Romania!"
Standing on the bridge, Matyushenko cursed the
St. George.
At the moment the crew of the
Potemkin
should have been planning the assault on the city, they had been betrayed. Their days of waiting for the squadron, their triumph in winning another battleship to their sideâall were for nothing now. Several boats carrying soldiers were already cutting toward the
St. George,
whose guns could now be turned to defend Odessa against the
Potemkin.
As Matyushenko considered their next move, he heard increasingly loud and impassioned demands to head for Romania, an idea that he knew had been spread by those opposed to the mutiny. The hope of the squadron coming to their side, then the alliance with the
St. George,
had decreased the attractiveness of that option. But now, with their spirits crushed, the sailors were easily swept away by the desire for an easy surrender rather than a continuing fight.
The crew began to chant, "Romania! Romania!"
Kirill and Feldmann attempted to silence them. "Brothers, comrades," they pleaded, "what are you on about? You're turning against the causeâ"
"What are you leading us into?" A sailor interrupted them. "Do you want to see us drowned like sheep?"
Although fear gripped the crew, Matyushenko refused to listen to any call for surrender. Even so, chances of success in Odessa were limited. The sailors could attack the
St. George
with their guns. They could fire on Odessa again to try to force General Kakhanov to accept their demands. Either action meant that many, many would die. Moreover, given that the
Potemkin
now found itself without another battleship at its side, nor much of a connection with the city's revolutionaries, their actions might be for nothing.
Vakulenchuk had always cautioned Matyushenko not to be at the mercy of his tempestuous urge to strike out in hatred against the tsar. He must think first. "Don't throw it away," his friend had said, in his final words to Matyushenko. He had always pushed him to do whatever was necessary to realize his revolutionary ambitions. But the cost of using the full force of the
Potemkin'
s guns was too great, Matyushenko reasoned, for a revolution that was supposed to be in the name of the people. He could not lead the sailors to commit this kind of bloodshed.
Although he hated retreating to Romania, Matyushenko agreed to head to its port city, Constanza. There they could obtain more provisions and fuel and then focus on a new plan to serve their cause. Once the crew settled down, he and his fellow revolutionaries could convince them that capitulation was the wrong path. But for now they needed to follow the call to leave Odessa. The committee agreed, and Murzak gave the order to prepare the battleship to leave. The
Potemkin
signaled the
Vekha
to take on as much coal as possible from the barge and then follow.
As the battleship cleared the harbor, with the
Ismail
by its side, Kirill and Feldmann pulled Matyushenko aside. "How come you want to go to Romania?" Kirill shouted. "Don't you see the shame of it?"
Burdened with a decision he never wanted to make, Matyushenko spat out, "If you're frightened for your own skin, I can send you ashore." Then he walked away.
The shores of Odessa soon disappeared. Night fell a few hours later, and the sailors were alone again on the Black Sea. The stars overhead and the pale moonlight cast across the water were the only signs that they had not abandoned the harbor for some black oblivion. While heading southwest toward Constanza, steaming slowly to conserve coal, each crew member contemplated the events of the past few days and the grim future.