“Memoirs”

by Yakov Yurovsky

Part I: Childhood and Early Life 

This was all a long time ago. Tomsk, where I was born, was a backwater in the far reaches of the empire. From the time of my birth, my place in life was settled as a worker, just as it had been for my father. There was no escape. In 1886-1887, I remember that I sat in the courtyard of our wooden dacha, thinking what a difficult life it was in this world. I thought then that one could go to the Emperor and tell him how hard our life was. But then, of course, we would have been told that such hardships were sent from Heaven. I was then seven or eight years old. We lived in the Sand Banks-that is what the area in which we lived was called, because every year during the spring thaw the Ob River flooded it. We also had a small apartment in the Millionaya Street, where we lived in the spring. The owner of that building, a butcher, lived upstairs, and on the street there was a loading area where he conducted his business. In this year, there was a spring flood that over-ran us in our sleep. 

My father was a glazer. Our family was big, and the apartment was small and smelled of blood and boiling meat from the shop. When the apartment became full, the owner would bring us children upstairs to his rooms. I remembered that it was dark and asked, “Why do we have to live in such a place, with water flowing through our rooms, while the children of the building’s owner all have a good place to live and sleep upstairs?” 

“It is better to be poor but honest,” my mother said. Once I had to take lunch to my father and passed a group of Jews on their way to their synagogue. And then I asked my mother, “How is it that Jews have all the money, and can close their shops to go to Synagogue on Friday, when others have to work? Why are they allowed to decide when it is forbidden to work, when the rest of us have to do so?” 

Whenever I asked these questions, Mother would answer, “Because God wills it.” And I used to sit alone and think to myself, It would be a great thing if I had money. I would not keep it all to myself, and I would give lots of things to others who had nothing. 

In 1891, Nicholas II undertook a world tour. He traveled through Siberia and came to Tomsk. Everybody waited and cheered and followed the heir together throughout the city. I was then learning to be a watchmaker. I thought at that time that although I had a special wish to see the heir that it didn’t really matter. I thought that it would be good to see him, but what would pass between us? On the following day, Nicholas arrived. The shop in which I learnt my craft stood on Post Office Street, the largest in the city; this was also where the Governor’s House stood, so I had a chance to stand in the door and watch as the procession went by. Today, I remember how handsome the heir was, with his little, neat brown beard, as he passed by, surrounded by mounted farmers who had come to town to present him with samples of their goods. In Tomsk, the owner of a guesthouse, a Jew, brought the Heir into the city in a fast troika. We thought that that the Heir should not have been subjected to pernicious Jewish influence as he would have to talk to him in the troika. A rumor came about that the Heir had lunch with this Jew-this all had a great meaning in that particular moment in his travels. The weather that day was so good that the Heir could be seen on the balcony of the Governor’s House, standing and waving to us people below, making it a perfect day, with beautiful weather, as the heir nodded and waved to us. Such great people as the heir always had the best luck. This was my first encounter with the ruling house and with Nicholas II. 

I was fifteen or sixteen when another important event took place. Whenever we sat down to lunch in our family, questions about the emperor would be raised. Father was very severe, and would not allow any contrary points of view from his children. He glorified Nicholas I. I didn’t think was deserved. And I began to argue that nothing good had happened because of Nicholas I. When something good had happened it was only because of Alexander II: he had freed the Serfs and was not so coarse as one heard that Nicholas I had been. When I was sixteen, we had a typical fight. My father refused to listen; he threw a fork at me and I ran out, staying away from home for two days. 

So, in these ways, this is how I came to learn about the ruling house with their lives and their deaths. Father thought that he had merely thrown the fork at me, but in reality he was throwing the memory of Nicholas I into the grave. He did not know that times had changed and that this was a different era. And by now my life taught me to know this of Nicholas II: he was a fiend, he was a bloodsucker, a killer. Finally I came to yet another understanding: that everything was made by the hands of workers and peasants, and that the emperor was dependent on us. We controlled their destinies. 

After I left Tomsk I settled in Ekaterinburg where I married in 1904 and began to work in a jeweler’s shop. My wife, who was very religious, gave birth to three children, two sons and a daughter. These births deeply impacted me. I thought that they deserved a life different from the one I was forced to live, a live of freedom and hope. This led me to join the Bolshevik Party in 1905. I believed in the absolute correctness of our mission. 

Because of my political views, we were forced to leave Russia and I spent many years in Berlin, where I worked as a watchmaker. We all spoke German and converted to the German [Lutheran] Church. My employer had a friend who made society photographs and he trained me in this, which I liked, particularly composing the photographs and capturing the faces. 

Part II: The Romanovs 

On July 1 1918 I was called to a meeting of the Presidium of the Ural Regional Soviet, who directed me to take the place of the Commandant in the House of Special Purpose, where the former Emperor Nicholas II and his family and several supporters were being held. On July 7-8 I went together with the President of the Ural Regional Presidium, Beloborodov, to the House of Special Purpose, where I took over the function of commandant from the earlier Commandant Avdayev. I also brought in a new detachment of interior guards including some men from a local factory; they were two brothers, a man I knew called Lacher, someone named Soames, and some others. 

One must say that Commandant Avdayev and also his adjutant Ukrainstev apparently were not orderly in the execution of their duties and many of the Emperor’s guard had assumed an overly sympathetic attitude to them, and did all they could to assist in their secrets. They were so close to the Romanovs and so unreliable that we considered exterminating them to prevent further scandal and possible rescue of the prisoners. They were former workers at the Zlokasov Factory and Syssert guards. The workers spoke long and loud that Nicholas and his family ought to be shot and that the money should not be turned over to the people but should instead be turned over to the guards. As it turned out, this was not a question that the Center addressed, but it is noteworthy because it shows how zealous these workers were. One must say that the signal system that we in the regiment of Soviets and the troops of the watch used, known as the machine, that we had in the places where they stood, did not function properly, nor had it worked for quite some time. This was just another example of how Avdayev had been lax in his duties, and completely wrong for this kind of special assignment. 

Therefore I embarked not only on an organization of the inner guard, but also a new system of guard posts and communication among the men. One of the guards I can specially recall being in charge of this machine was Comrade Soames, a Lett. These are the people that we found in our hands beside Nicholas and his family: the cook Kharitonov, the servant Trupp, the Doctor Botkin, and the court lady Demidova. At the beginning there was also a young servant Sednev who served Alexei. Therefore in the house and in the guardhouse one would find a great pile of Imperial things and I received permission from the Executive Commission to conduct a house search for an inventory. One must say that this house search was not held for any special purpose although at this time an exchange of letters between Nicholas and the outside world had happened, and Nicholas had fallen into a hasty plan by us to trap him. 

It was my understanding that I should collect all valuables from their hands and keep them out of sight so that none of the guards would take the risk of stealing them. From information, the damn valuables and jewels we knew they had concealed in their clothes when they arrived caused troubles to no end, and this question haunted us like a weight around the neck. As I held the position of Commandant I passed these valuables to Comrade Nikulin to be responsible for. Neither Nicholas nor his children made their dissatisfaction apparent. He asked only that Alexei be allowed to keep his watch otherwise he was bored. I agreed to this. Alexandra Feodorovna made her discontent quite apparent, in a loud, clear voice, when I said I would have to take the gold bracelets from her arm. We couldn’t pull them off, and she kept complaining so we let her keep them. She explained that this bracelet had been worn on her arm for over twenty years and now it simply wouldn’t come off. I noticed that such a bracelet was also worn by her daughters. They were gold, but of no great worth, so I let them keep them. 

Everything was sealed in a satchel and given to Nicholas. Whenever I came into their rooms for an inspection Nicholas would show me the satchel and say, “Your package is complete.” It was decided that the family would eat Soviet food. The food was brought twice a day from the outside. I should say daily that the Imperial Family had a little cheesecake, butter, and eggs brought from the convent, in addition to the food we brought them. Later I heard from Commandant Avdayev that he had kept most of this for himself and for his men and given little to the Imperial Family. I was careful to give the Imperial Family everything that was given me for them, but then on the second or third day it appeared to me that the deliveries in the time of Commandant Avdayev were too abundant. I ended all of these deliveries, except for those from the convent. I decided to do all this because everyone in Ekaterinburg was being rationed and therefore the Imperial Family should be rationed, too, like all ordinary citizens. I spoke with the cook Kharitonov about this, warning that no one must eat more than a quarter pound of meat per day. I explained that the Emperor especially must live just as did everyone else. This made it difficult for Kharitonov to perform his duties, particularly when there was so little with which to cook. 

The room in which Alexandra Feodorovna lived with the Heir had a large window looking onto the square. The Empress frequently stood in front of this window, where she could look out onto the square, waving at people in hopes of being seen. The guards at the post often saw her do this and I myself went to her and told her that she was forbidden to continue such behavior. She, however, refused, and to solve the problem and prevent any communication, I had the iron grate placed over the window. Dr. Botkin said sarcastically, “Perhaps you think it might be good if we had bars on all our windows.” 

The Romanov family took no small pleasure in having baths several times a day. The emperor would spend hours soaking and even had a special foaming liquid he liked to use. The strain on the house’s hot water supply was intense, and we often ran short of even enough water to wash dishes. I finally had to forbid them from taking four or five baths a day. 

Their daily schedule was the following. They all had to be up by ten, at which time I would appear and make sure all were still there. To accommodate the prisoners, I changed the roll from nine to ten, but the Empress brought her typical bad temper to the situation. “Why must we get up so early?” she asked. “I don’t care if you want to spend the whole day in bed,” I said. “You can do what you like. But everyone must be up by ten for roll, or I’ll come into your bedroom and get you up myself.” 

Tatiana went to me to ask when they could walk. Alexandra Feodorovna went seldom; when she did go out she always wore a coat, jacket, and hat, while all the others went out with their heads uncovered. Nicholas would go out with one or other of his daughters, Alexei would play at this time with Sednev. One day I heard loud noises and shouts and went out to find Alexei and Sednev setting off fireworks aimed at the guards outside the fence. Comrade Avdayev had apparently let him keep a box of these explosives to amuse himself. 

One time Olga spoke to a Lett while they were out walking and asked where he had served; he answered that he had been in a Grenadier Regiment where he had sometimes seen the daughters of the Emperor. Olga called to Nicholas, “Papa, it’s our grenadier!” Nicholas stepped nearer and said, “But I know you, you served in my Grenadier Guards Regiment.” He said “Good day,” perhaps in the hope of receiving, “We wish you health.” Instead he got only another “Good day” back. The Lett told me later that it was not in him to speak for long because I ended the conversation. 

The daughters, especially Tatiana, frequently opened the door to their rooms, outside of which stood a sentry. She took great pains to flirt with him outrageously, apparently in the hope of putting the guards in a good humor with them. It must be said that the young men were extremely strong and that these provocative words and actions stirred no response in them. She was also sent down the hall to inquire after this or that favor: what time could they walk, could we ask for a priest, could Alexei leave the house and attend church? She was the most mature of the four girls and very much their leader. 

And so I have given you a glimpse that the family lived a comfortable middle class life where early in the morning tea was drunk, and then following tea they busied themselves with this or that work, sewing, repairing, knitting. The leader of them was Tatiana, and the second Olga. Tatiana and Olga were very much alike in the face. As far as Marie was concerned she did not behave at all like her elder sisters. Her sincere, modest character was very attractive to the men, and she spent most of her time flirting with them. She was not especially like her sisters, somehow she seemed closed off from most of her family. This obviously followed from what had happened, because her mother and eldest sister treated her as if she didn’t belong, like an outcast. Anastasia was the youngest, very attractive, and fat. She had rosy cheeks, and a quite lovely face and features. In character, she seemed best adjusted to their position. She could most often be found at the side of her sister Marie, making eyes at the soldiers then laughing at their replies. Alexei was suffering from a family illness and could be found mostly in bed although he went out carried in someone’s arms. I once asked Dr. Botkin what Alexei’s illness was, but he told me that it was not possible to speak about it, adding that it was a family illness, and saying, “You wouldn’t be able to understand anything about it.” 

Alexandra Feodorovna held herself especially proud whereby it quickly became apparent that she came from a family where the women dominated the men. Even when he was enjoying a peaceful evening with his family, Nicholas knew that Alexandra Feodorovna’s strong hand was over him. He always looked to her for signals when questions were posed, and always bowed to her wishes. Nicholas believed himself to be especially democratic. With his unexceptional face, he appeared to be an ordinary gentleman, simple and I would say very much like a peasant soldier. It was impossible not to hate what the Imperial Family represented and have bitterness for all the blood of the people spilled on their behalf. Yet even with these feelings it was difficult for me to view them in this way. One could not find such simple, unassuming and generally pleasant people. If I hadn’t been given my charge, I would have had no reason to have anything against them after I got to know them. It made my position even more difficult. The girls for example liked to go to the kitchen to help prepare food, to prepare tea, play cards or lay out patience, or sometimes do their washing. They dressed simply without decoration. The knave Sednev had lived so much with the family that he did nothing that was not a service for the Heir to the Russian Throne. He often amused Alexandra Feodorovna by playing with a little dog she had. Trupp and Kharitonov were servants with the faithfulness of dogs. Doctor Botkin was a true friend to the family. In these difficult times he served the family as a spokesperson. He had given his life and soul to the family and lived together with the Romanov family through all the difficulties of his life.  He knew well that Nicholas and his family were religious; they asked me if they could have a priest and a deacon. I warned him that this would be difficult to arrange. When he came to the commandant’s room he laid his church noise in front of me. When the priest came, he said, “Before this all we had never met such refined people. Of course, one changes one’s opinions, knowing what has happened. It is already a great scandal over the situation. But we at the Church are ready to forgive, and give a pass to an Imperial soul,” and so the mass went ahead. Especially attentive participants were Nicholas and Alexandra Feodorovna. 

Part III: The Execution of the Romanovs 

I came to my duty knowing that I would have to take a stand on the question of liquidating the Romanovs. The Czechoslovakian forces were coming nearer and nearer the Urals. I was therefore to be the source who provided the answer we sought to the outstanding question of their fate. It was left to me, the son of a worker, to settle the Revolution’s score with the Imperial House for centuries of suffering. As well as this question I was also concerned that the liquidation of some of the comrades might be necessary. 

In July there were many angry meetings of the Presidium of the Ural Regional Soviet on this question. On July 16 it was decided and I returned to the House of Special Purpose at 7PM. Comrade Fillip came to me in the house and gave me an order from the executive committee concerning the execution of Nicholas, wherein the exception was that the knave Sednev should be sent away. While the prisoners were having dinner, I summoned the young knave Sednev and told him that he should leave the House of Special Purpose that night to join his uncle. I said that yesterday his uncle had come and that he wanted to take the boy and go home. Sednev was excited and happy to be going home. 

In the House of Special Purpose things were not peaceful. There was much turmoil within the Romanov family that followed this decision. In a short time they sent Dr. Botkin to my office, and he plied me with questions about the boy: Where had his uncle been? Where was he going? Was he not returning? I gave him the same explanation as I had told Sednev himself. Botkin seemed satisfied with this and left. Then they sent Tatiana to me. She was hysterical, asking more questions. Her brother already missed Sednev, and demanded him back. I had to calm her down before she would listen to the same thing I had already told Botkin. To ease her mind, I told her that he would return shortly. Finally, she seemed calm, and went back to her family. 

The execution had to be organized very quickly, without any proper preparations. I telephoned the Ekaterinburg Military Garage and asked one of the drivers, Lyukhanov, to bring a large truck at midnight to the House of Special Purpose, along with some canvas rolls to cover the bodies. I called the watch commander Paul Medvedev from the Syssert fatory and told him what was to happen that night, and told him to warn the guard not to be worried of unusual noises that night. I called the inner guard together and told them that the shooting was upon us. I gave them Nagant revolvers, and some of the others including Ermakov, Nikulin, and Kudrin, had their own revolvers.   When I called the roll a few of the Letts said they did not feel able to shoot at the girls, and refused to do it. I felt that it would be for the best to exclude these comrades from the execution so that they would not fail at that important moment in their revolutionary duty. 

Then we had to wait for the arrival of the chimney sweep who was to bring the truck. The night was short and time was passing. I thought that he would not come. I waited with Goloshchokin and Kudrin in my office as we smoked and watched the clock. At 12:30AM Lyukhanov rang, saying that he had been delayed but that he would leave shortly. About an hour or hour-and-a-half passed before he came. It was 1:30AM when he came. 

When the truck arrived, it became apparent that Ermakov, who had been told earlier that he was to take responsibility for disposing of the bodies, had attempted to seize the truck and argued with the driver. Ermakov was drunk when he arrived in the truck. I sent the truck across the square, where the driver smoked as he waited for a signal. 

I went in and woke Botkin and told him that everyone should dress quickly, that it was not peaceful in the city and that we would be taking them to another safe place. I didn’t want to give unnecessary pain and so I gave them time to dress. I heard them walking around in their bedrooms, putting on their clothing and talking. About two I sent the convoy downstairs. I alone guided the family down there. Nicholas carried Alexei in his arms; one of the servants had pillows in her hands, the others small items. We went to the downstairs room that I had selected for the special purpose. Alexandra Feodorovna asked for a chair, Nicholas took a chair for Alexei; I saw that chairs were brought. Alexandra Feodorovna sat in one below the window, and Nicholas gently set his son in the second in the middle of the room, then stood directly in front of him, so that he shielded him. I told them we were waiting for the arrival of a truck, then left. 

There was complete silence, then I gave the signal for the driver to bring the truck to the courtyard, where he was to gun the engine to disguise the shots. When I heard the roar of Lyukhanov’s engine in the courtyard, it was so loud that the glass in the windows rattled in its frames.  I then collected my men. Facing them, my position suddenly became clear, and like my comrades I was extremely nervous at having to carry out the execution. 

When we entered the room set aside for this purpose, I ordered the prisoners to all stand. They stood along the whole wall and also the side wall. The room suddenly seemed very small. Nicholas stood with his back to me. I explained that the Presidium of the Ural Regional Soviet had met and had decided to shoot them. Nicholas turned round and asked me, “What?” I explained the order again and commanded fire. With the first shot, I shot Nicholas, and everyone else also shot him. All ten people firing took aim at him and he spun around and dropped to the floor. Alexandra Feodorovna was driven back against the wall and off her chair by bullets. 

Of the shooters, no one seemed to understand my meaning, and I couldn’t stop it once it began. No one could hear anything, and I found out that my hope that the wooden wall would hold the bullets had been wrong. It threw back the bullets at us. Bullets from the men behind flew past my head, ringing in my ears, and it was increasingly disorderly, with bullets flying about the room and the air thick with smoke. It was not long before I stopped the shooting, which had taken on a disorderly character. 

We heard moans, screams and low sobs. We had to go back in and finish the operation. When I re-entered, I saw that many still lived, for example Botkin who lifted himself on his right elbow and appeared as though he would stand up again until I shot him again in the head with my revolver. Alexei, Tatiana, Anastasia, and Olga had to be stabbed with bayonets but this didn’t work. Nothing seemed to work with Alexei. Though injured, he continued to live as Ermakov tried to bayonet him. Unable to stand by, I finally pulled out my revolver and shot him. The reason for this “miraculous” became clear later. The daughters had diamonds in their corsets on their bodies. I was compelled to have them shot again. Three of the young girls were huddled in the corner. I saw that Olga and Tatiana had wrapped their arms around each other. Making my way across the slick floor, I fired at Tatiana as she struggled to her feet, and Ermakov shot Olga as she fell over her sister. The youngest daughters and the court woman cowered in the corner behind some pillows, and Marie was finished off with a shot to the head. Ermakov had turned to Anastasia, stabbing at her as she was screaming and fighting. She finally died when he shot her in the head. It had taken maybe ten minutes to kill them, and after checking again to see that all were dead I ordered the men to start moving them. I suggested they use sheets but when they tried to lift Botkin he slipped to the slippery floor. 

With moving the bodies left to the guards, I went up to my office. To my great sorrow, Red Army men were taking things from the bodies of the victims, removing things, and I decided to stop the removal of the corpses and asked Comrade Medvedev to go to the truck to assess if any articles had been stolen. Alone myself I decided on the spot to gather everyone that was there. Nikulin and I called everybody to my office and demanded that they turn over everything they had taken. One after the other turned it over; fortunately only one or two men had been weak willed and though I had hoped that I would be able to turn over the further work of the night to Comrade Ermakov, it had become clear to me that he would not be able to carry this out in an orderly fashion. So I decided to go with them. Nikulin I left behind, to explain what had happened to the guards who had not been on duty and did not know what had taken place. 

Part IV: Burying the Romanovs 

At 3:00 or 3:30 in the morning we left in the direction of the Verkh-Isetsk Factory. I rode in the truck with the driver, Ermakov, and Kudrin, and we had three people from the interior guard in the rear. We crossed the square in front of the Verkh-Isetsk Factory. I asked Ermakov if he had all of the equipment we would need to dig a grave. Ermakov told me that he had a shovel, and perhaps someone else had brought something with them. It was thus obvious that the entire operation had been placed in the hands of the wrong man. I was determined to see the operation successfully completed myself. 

The truck overheated several times, once when we crossed the railway line, where it became stuck. Lyukhanov gunned the motor and the engine steamed before we managed to get over this hurdle. The truck bounced along the road, a few times wheels sunk into ruts and we had to get out and push it back onto road; twice the truck had to be turned off because it overheated. Because of these difficulties we were only able to drive at about 5-7 miles an hour. 

When we had gone about 3 versts from the Verkh-Isetsk Factory we came across a large collection of droshkies and mounted riders. I asked Ermakov, “What is this?” He said: “Oh, these are the men who have come to help us out from Verkh-Isetsk.” 

“But why so many people?” I asked. “And why all of these carts?” 

“I thought the Romanovs would be brought here alive,” he answered. “They were to finish them off. I didn’t know we’d be bringing them in their hearse.” 

We continued along the road, and truck again stalled when it had to go over the rail line; after this we only made it to the place where the Romanovs were all later buried before the truck again overheated. We had to unload the corpses, and the driver went to wake the keeper of the crossing to ask for water. He also returned with some railway ties that we laid down to help get the truck out. Once the bodies were re-loaded, we went further into the forest. Then we got stuck in the mud. In one swampy place we were stuck fast between two trees and held there. With the truck loaded with bodies, we couldn’t go any further, and had to stop. 

We couldn’t find the agreed on spot; no one knew where this was. I asked how much further it was to shaft. Ermakov said he thought it was another mile, but he didn’t seem to know, so I went with Ermakov on borrowed horses from the factory detachment and rode down a trail to find it. In a few minutes, I returned to find the Verkh-Isetsk men loading the bodies into the droshkies; a few of the men had begun stealing things from them. I pulled out my revolver and warned the workers that if anyone else took anything further I would shoot them on the spot. 

There was much grumbling and the men complained that they had been deprived of executing the Romanovs. They were surprised that we had brought corpses and not living victims as they had expected. They spoke about this and the fact quickly settled in disappointment on their faces, then anger while they loaded the bodies. I thus had to concern myself with the potential revolt of these men. I therefore ordered all of these men off to search for a mine while I rode off again with Ermakov, to separate them from the troublesome corpses. The remaining workers I ordered back to the Koptyaki Road to stand guard; before I left I told Lyukhanov and the few men from the House of Special Purpose detachment that they were to guard the bodies and not let the Verkh-Isetsk men near them-if they tried they were to shoot them. 

We rode away to find the shaft. Ermakov was drunk and confused and could not find the spot, and I was weary and angry at this development. After a little had passed, and we still couldn’t find it, we came back to the truck and droshkies. It was beginning to get light now, and local peasants were getting ready to go to work. It didn’t do us any good to keep searching for the shaft. Ermakov said that he knew where another shaft could be found, and so we went off in that direction. We were 16 versts from Verkh-Isetsk and about one mile and a half from Koptyaki Village. We sent another search party of mounted men off to find the shaft; after some time, they returned and reported that, “We’ve found a shaft.” I ordered that they finish loading the corpses into the droshkies. Before I left I promised Lyukhanov that I would return within a few hours to help him free his truck. We then followed the riders off into the forest. 

When we got to the shaft, there was a group of peasants sitting around a fire. I ordered them to get up and leave the area immediately, telling them that Czechoslovakian troops were in the forest and that shooting was likely to erupt without warning. They grabbed their belongings and fled with a look of terror in their eyes. 

The peasants at the mine had left fires and we built them up to warm ourselves after unhitching the horses. I also posted a guard to turn away any curious peasants. When we got to the shaft, I found that it was very shallow. We started to undress the bodies. When I undressed one of the daughters I found that she was wearing a corset, through which I could see something shining. When I pulled it open I found what lay within. Most of the men in the forest had no idea of what I had seen. I didn’t know most of Ermakov’s men, and so I decided to dismiss them. I gathered them together and said, “Young men, this isn’t going to be a big job. You must leave now.” There was further grumbling over this but I told them that they must return to the city, where undoubtedly they had many important tasks to attend to. It was most important that they leave at once. I knew only a few of them, and didn’t know if they could be trusted. I let them go, keeping only five trusted men with me, including Kudrin who had arrived from town, Ermakov, and members of the House of Special Purpose Detachment. 

Once we were alone, I resumed the search for valuables. These were found on Olga, Tatiana, and Anastasia, but on Marie’s body. I was not surprised by this, because once again it reflected her disgraced position in the Romanov Family at the end. Alexandra Feodorovna wore a long pearl belt wrapped in silk, and also a large piece of gold wire in coils. I took all of these valuables from their underwear and corsets. Altogether there was more than half a pood of valuables; this included diamonds and other valuable stones. 

We stripped all of the corpses completely naked and burned all of the clothes in the fire. All of the Romanovs had taken small things with them or carried them in their hands, and we also found that they were wearing amulets with pictures and prayers of Grishka Rasputin. These were all burnt; on this place, there were probably some bits of stones and charred clothes that had escaped the flames. 

One of the Red Army men later brought me an especially large diamond, weighing eight carats. As he gave it to me, he said, “I found this where their things were burnt.” By direction of the Presidium of the Ural Regional Soviet, I took these valuables with me to Perm, where I gave them to Comrade Trifonov. Together with Goloschokin and Comrade Novoselov, he later buried them in the proletarian soil of the Urals, as Comrade Smigla had suggested; other things were hidden in a house near the factory at Alapayevsk. In 1919, these things were all exhumed and taken from the Urals to Moscow.

We threw the naked bodies into the shaft; the water here was only one and a half arshins deep. This scarcely covered the bodies, and they could clearly be seen. A few grenades tossed in to collapse the shaft only landed on top of them and had no effect. I ordered the bodies covered with dirt and brush to conceal them. It was about 9:30 when I left a guard at the mine and returned to the city to find a summons to explain what had happened to the Presidium of the Ural Regional Soviet. Here, I realized that things were not good. It became obvious how things were going to be settled. I explained that I needed to find another place where we could completely dispose of the bodies. Comrades Beloborodov and Safarov gave me no answers. After a while Comrade Fillip himself took me aside and warned that I ought to dispose of the corpses in a different way. As I left, I saw Ermakov there, red-eyed and more disheveled than usual; apparently the previous night had caught up with him. 

I was also told to report immediately to the Executive Committee of the Cheka where I faced questions over what had gone wrong, but had no answers. I went off to see Chukazev, President of the Ekaterinburg City Soviet, and asked him if he knew of any particularly deep shafts around Ekaterinburg. He said that one such shaft, an old copper mine could be found nine versts along the Moscow Road. Leaving Chukazev I took an auto and went to the Presidium headquarters, where I met Comrade Fillip and the others. We decided to burn the bodies. It was easy to say, “Burn them,” but no one knew how to do this, or how to prepare it. 

I went to Comrade Voikov and ordered three drums of petrol and three flasks of sulfuric acid. I then left with Comrade Pavlushin on horseback to investigate whether this place could be seen when one drove along the road. By this time it was getting late. While we were underway, my horse slipped and landed hard on top of me, crushing my leg. For several minutes I lay there in a daze, unable to move. Finally I looked around and saw that Pavlushin, too, had fallen from his horse on crossing the uneven surface. 

The copper mine was deep, surrounding a swampy area, and a clay surface which would make covering our trail easy. The second idea was to bury them in the swamp.  Comrade Pavlushin and myself decided that we would burn half of them, and bury the rest. As we rode along, we found a group of Red Soldiers at the edge of the wood; I worried that they might be Ermakov’s men and would speak of what they saw. I asked Pavlushin to report them to the Cheka and that an armed guard be sent to arrest them. We returned to speak to the Cheka. I asked Comrade Pavlushin to go in with me and address these concerns; he agreed and went off, while I went to see Comrade Voikov again. Here I spent a long time, asking about the petrol and the acid, but he said, “These things aren’t so easy to obtain.” 

Pavlushin was still not back. I waited a long time for him, then finally went myself to the Cheka. There I learnt that Pavlushin had gone to bed. He had a doctor with him, who said that Pavlushin had sprained his ankle when he fell from his horse. “I can’t walk,” he said. Thus the business of burning the bodies fell upon me, and on my men, who had absolutely no experience with such an operation. Still, it had to be done, even though it wasn’t easy to organize. 

As Deputy Commissar of Justice in the Ural Regional Soviet, I requisitioned a horse and cart, explaining that it should be sent without a driver. It came at 12:30AM. After this arrived, I climbed into the droshky. I arrived at 4:00AM and I was surprised to find men not only from the House of Special Purpose Detachment but also some twenty men, of whom I knew only two or three. Once again, the entire operation threatened to be ruined by the intrusion of other people. I ordered them away. Koptyaki Village was only about two versts away from this place, and we had to hurry to get things done. I sent these men to Koptyaki Village to instruct the people there not to leave because a search was underway and it was possible that they might be caught in an exchange of gunfire. We then began our work when the riders left us. By morning we had recovered the bodies. 

The men were tired and said, “Why can’t we just bury them here? What difference does it make?” I agreed to bury some here. We were all so tired that we decided to just throw Nicholas and Alexei in, and cover the grave back over. We brought them closer to the road, where I decided to bury Nicholas and Alexei. We had dug a fairly deep grave by 9AM. Then, someone said that he had seen a peasant watching us. “Hey, who is that?” I yelled. “Come here at once.” The man appeared, his head moving from side to side in an attempt to see the corpses behind us. Ermakov jumped up and said, “Oh no, he’s a friend of mine. He hasn’t seen anything and in any case he can be trusted.” This peasant thus turned out to be a friend of Ermakov. Once again the entire operation had been ruined because of Ermakov and his damn friends. Now we had to abandon the grave and move all of the corpses to the other shaft across the highway. I turned to Ermakov and said, “Next time I see one of your men here or some friend of yours spying from the forest I’ll shoot him on the spot myself.” I then issued an order that under no circumstances should anyone else be allowed to approach; if they did, they would be shot. 

I again had to report to the city on the disastrous situation at the mine. I decided to take the bodies all away and find another place deeper in the forest. In the city, with a great deal of difficulty, I managed to find a car. I brought this to the Moscow Road, to the area that Chukazov had described. About one and a half versts from the shaft, I had an accident with the car, and it broke down; although I spent an hour and a half, I could not repair it. I left on foot to find the shaft. 

When I got there, I found several soldiers, having picnics with their families. The shafts were quite deep; and this seemed to be the best place to dispose of them. It was isolated and no one would think to look for them here. I returned to my car; it still wouldn’t run. I spent more than an hour trying to repair it, but without luck. I had to leave on foot, which wasn’t easy as my leg still hurt me a good deal. I had to walk back to Ekaterinburg. This took a long time, and wasn’t very easy with my leg, so I decided to commandeer the first vehicle that I encountered. Soon two men came by on horseback. I said to them, “Young men! Tell me friends, where are you going?” 

“Hey look!” one of them said. “It’s Comrade Yurovsky!” 

“Yes,” I answered, “I’m Yurovsky. And how are you?” 

“Oh, so-so,” they said. 

“Now then, lads,” I told them, “we must bring the car back to Ekaterinburg.” They were very understanding, and pulled me and my car with ropes; in such a manner, I returned to the city; it was slow going, with the horses straining to pull the car across the forest and uneven road but eventually we returned to the city. 

When I returned to Ekaterinburg, I immediately set about attempting to get another car. This was almost impossible. Things were bad: my men had been without food or sleep for almost two days, and so I had to arrange to get them some provisions. I went to the Regional Military Commissariat’s Garage to try to find a car. When I arrived I could find one, and there didn’t seem to be any car available. Finally, I found a young man and explained what I wanted. “Oh, I know what for,” he said. “I’ll send it at once.” I also requisitioned a truck. “So,” he said, “you need a truck as well as a car. I have a car, but only one lightweight truck that belongs to General Strogov.” (Strogov was the Chief of Military Transportation; later he was shot in a skirmish with the Whites.) 

“What difference does it make to me?” I asked. “Give it to me.” 

I loaded the truck with provisions for my men and, having procured a second truck, sent them both away. I told the driver that the bodies should be put in the second truck, so that the food and clothes for my men in the first truck would not be contaminated. Later, I myself went with a third truck and a private cart, and sent them off by different routes, to see which was the quickest route now that I had decided to move the bodies in a truck. I also ordered that ropes and stones be taken, to weight the bodies when we threw them into the shaft, along with some men to help who could be trusted. 

I left the city at ten and rode to the forest where I found Lyukhanov at the crossing with his truck. I told him to drive off to the clearing across the road where the forest would hide his truck and where we could then load the corpses without being seen. I then rode to the mine, where a half dozen carts waited along with some men; some bodies had already been loaded and then we did the rest; around 2AM we left. I was barely able to keep my seat from lack of sleep. This was slow going and seemed to take hours before we came to Lyukhanov and put the corpses in his truck and he then set off to road. 

After crossing the railway line to the old ironworks the truck broke down. We had to unload the bodies in order to cross the tracks. One of the men said, “The road here is good enough for them, and there’s a swamp right here.”

We had to get railroad ties to put down on the roadway. We laid ten pieces lengthwise over the hole, which took about an hour. Then we re-loaded the truck and set off again. A little while later, we again got stuck. It was now four in the morning, and nothing had been accomplished. Nothing could get the truck free, and the other truck carrying the men had also become stuck. 

It was the final straw. Nothing could be done. It was already light, my men were exhausted, expecting that any minute we would encounter White or Czechoslovaks forces. I had to find another way to dispose of the corpses. I decided to bury them right there, in the middle of the clearing. Half of the bodies would be burnt, the other half thrown into the bog. The horses were unhitched, the bodies unloaded, and barrels of gasoline were opened. 

I ordered that we begin the burning with Alexei. We laid his body down and soaked it with gasoline and quickly set it on fire, just to see if it would work, since no one knew how to go about this. At the same time, we were digging a grave about three arshins square. It was already morning. It was not possible for us to burn any more of the bodies, for the farmers and workers were beginning to be about, and therefore, we had to bury the remaining bodies in the grave. After they had been dumped into the pit, we covered them with acid, then dirt, and finally laid railroad ties over them. We then drove over it to help flatten it out. On the place where we had tried to burn the body, we dug another grave and threw the bones in. We built another fire over this grave to hide all traces. Then we kicked around the ashes to further blur the traces. The traces were covered. Thus Nicholas and his family were buried; by six everything was over. 

This difficult work had taken three days; that is to say, it ended on the morning of July 19. I gathered my comrades together and warned them about the importance of this work and the necessity of complete secrecy until official acknowledge was made. I then returned to the city, where I found an order to go to Moscow to meet with Sverdlov, President of the VTsIK, and deliver to him in person a special report on what had happened. 

The first grave was, as I said earlier, about 16 versts away from Ekaterinburg, and about 2 versts from Koptyaki Village, in the forest. The last graves were eight or eight and a half versts from Ekaterinburg and about one and a half versts from the railway line, in a meadow roadway. 

Part V: My Family 

On July 26, just after the Czechoslovaks occupied Ekaterinburg, they stormed my house there, pillaging and arresting my old, gray-haired mother, a woman in her seventies. She was thrown in jail, and all of her possessions were taken away from her. She sat there for one year, in the same dress, and only escaped being shot by good luck. Before the return of the Whites, it had been possible for a person to convince their personal doctor to send them to the safety of the typhus ward. My mother was not so fortunate. She spent most of her time being taunted about her eldest son. They were barbaric with her, insulting her, swearing at her in the foulest language, and yelling, “Hey Bitch! You that have borne such a son!” 

Naturally I had told my mother nothing about my participation in the execution of Nicholas II. She knew nothing, but I did tell her to leave Ekaterinburg. But she said to me, “I’m an old woman-what would they want with me? I’m close to death.” Since she knew nothing, she would be unable to answer any questions about Nicholas. When they questioned her, she told them, “I know how to cook, I know how to keep house, I know how to use my kitchen, but I know nothing about this.” When she was asked if she was for the Reds or the Whites, she said, “I am for my son. I am in your hands. Do whatever you want with me.” 

Six months after the liberation of Ekaterinburg, my mother died at the age of seventy-one. In November 1918, my two brothers were living in Tomsk with their wives and families. The Whites came to arrest both Leonti and my other brother Ilya. Ilya managed to get away from Tomsk, but Leonti’s house was raided by an entire company of soldiers. When they confronted him, he was sitting behind his desk, working as a watchmaker. The officer asked if his name was Yurovsky, and when he said “Yes,” the man came toward him, yelling, “Then we must take you!” Everything was explained to him. They told Leonti that his brother was a wanted man, and that he had better tell them where the Emperor and his family were. He kept telling them it was a mistake, and that he knew nothing about the Emperor, but they tore his house apart, ripping up mattresses and furniture with bayonets, kicking in walls, and even interrogating his children if they knew where Nicholas was, or if they had seen any of his valuables. They kept calling my brother, “Emperor Killer!” The Whites arrested him and sent him to Irkutsk, where he was tortured and imprisoned for eight months. Throughout, the Whites threatened to shoot his wife and children if he refused to tell them where Nicholas was. Finally he was liberated by the Red Army. When I returned to Ekaterinburg it was only after my mother’s death. Typhus was raging and there was an unmistakable mark of fear, even in the haunted looks of the children. 

Nicholas II had many crimes to his name. The blood of workers and peasants was spilled in the name of the Imperial Family, and thousands of jobs taken from Russians and given to foreign workers. In Tobolsk, he and his family lived regally, and even in Ekaterinburg they had a middle-class life with four servants, plentiful food, and no one insulted the four Imperial daughters. The Imperial hangman had known nothing but security up until the moment he died. 

Yakov Mikhailovich Yurovsky, April-May 1922

Translation Copyright: Penny Wilson, 2000.  From original Russian and German text.  May not be reproduced without permission.