The Last Tsar (23 page)

The year 1914 had come to an end. Petrograd’s winter sun was pale—outside the palace windows it sparkled on the blindingly white snow of Tsarskoe Selo. A string of carriages and an auto (the twentieth century!) were waiting at the entrance to the Great Palace. In the mirror gallery, the diplomatic corps had lined up. Nicholas, accompanied by his suite, walked among the diplomats. He had a long conversation with the French ambassador: “The journey I have just completed all the way across Russia has shown me that I am in spiritual accord with my people.” And suddenly, in a completely different voice full of worry, he added: “I know of several attempts … to spread the idea that I am dispirited and no longer believe anymore in the possibility of crushing Germany and that I even intend to conduct peace negotiations. These are rumors spread by no-goods and German agents.”

After ushering in the new year at Tsarskoe Selo, the tsar left for the front at the end of January.

She: “Jan. 22nd 1915. My beloved One, Baby … begins to complain a little of his leg & dreads the night.… Ania begs me to tell you what she forgot giving over to you yesterday from our Friend, that you must be sure not once to mention the name of the commander-in-chief in your manifest—it must solely come from you to the people. [Her war with Nicholas Nikolaevich was heating up.] … Sweet treasure, I am writing in bed, after 6—the room looks big & empty, as the tree has been taken away.”

He: “26 January, 1915.… I visited Nicolasha and inspected his new railway carriage; very comfortable and practical one, but the heat in it is such that one cannot endure it above half an hour. We discussed thoroughly several important questions and, to my joy, came to an entire agreement.… I must say, that when he is alone and in a good humour he is sound … a great change in him since the beginning of the war. Life in this isolated place, which he calls his ‘hermitage,’ and the sense of the crushing responsibility which
rests on his shoulders, must have made a deep impression upon his soul; and that, if you will, is a great achievement too.”

He dreamed so of accord. He needed to calm her, so he reported: Nikolasha was alone, that is, without those dreadful “Montenegrin women”—Rasputin’s enemies.

He: “28 February, 1915. My beloved darling!… I was so happy to spend those two days at home—perhaps you noticed it, but I am foolish, and never speak of what I feel. What a nuisance it is to be always so busy and not to have an opportunity for sitting quietly together and having a talk! After dinner I cannot stay indoors, as I long to get out in the fresh air—and so all the free hours pass, and the old couple seldom get a chance of being together.”

She: “March 8th 1915. My own beloved One, I hope you get my letters regularly, I write and number them daily, also in my little lilac book.… Just heard that Irene [Irina, Sandro and Xenia’s daughter, married to Felix Yusupov] had a daughter (thought it would be a girl).”

Reading this letter he must have sighed: how time flies. He well remembered the day when Irina herself was born, it was all so recent, and here Irina was already having….

Vera Leonidovna:

“Handsome Felix had what are called ‘grammatical errors,’ that is, he was bisexual, plain and simple.… Gossip outlives people. But the two of them—they were an amazing couple—they were so attractive. What bearing! Breeding!”

She: “March 9th 1915.… What happiness to know, that the day after tomorrow I shall be holding you tight in my arms again, listening to your dear voice and looking into your beloved eyes.… I enclose a letter from Masha (from Austria) which she was asked to write to you, for peace’s sake. I never answer her letters, of course, now.”

In 1915, lady-in-waiting Maria Vasilchikova (Masha) was staying at her villa in Austria. One day, as she later explained, three strangers appeared at her house and proposed that she send the sovereign the following message: “Your Imperial Highness’s love of peace is well known throughout all Europe.… Austria and Germany are already sufficiently convinced of the force of Russian arms,” and so on. In short, the strangers appeared with a proposal from Germany (as yet unofficial) that the three representatives—of Austria, Russia, and Germany—meet secretly to begin talks on a separate peace. It was suggested that the meeting be arranged in Stockholm.

He understood that the story of the letter would engender all the same abominable rumors. When he read “the letter from Masha,”
Nicholas immediately passed it on to his minister of foreign affairs. He wanted everyone to know that he was making no secret of these proposals, for they were unacceptable to him. Nicholas was in a hurry. A paradox: twenty years before, when the straightforward Wilhelm parted with Alix in Berlin, he had been certain that she would become a loyal support for Germany in Russia. However, precisely because she was a German princess, Alix had to be above suspicion in any peace initiative, in any attempt to conclude a peace with Germany. Appreciating the whole horror of the war, dreaming of peace with her homeland, and possessing the most enormous influence over Nicholas’s decisions, she was compelled to be silent. To suffer in silence and thereby demonstrate her adherence to all-out war.

Masha was instructed to return to Russia immediately.

Again the tsar was staying at Tsarskoe Selo, only to leave very shortly.

She: “April 4th 1915.… Once more you are leaving us, and I think with gladness, because the life you had here, all excepting the work in the garden—is more than trying and tiring. We have seen next to nothing of each other through my having been lain up. Full many a thing have I not had time to ask, and when together only late in the evening, half the thoughts have flown away again.”

Indeed, he was not talkative, and when they were together they did not talk. Only separation engendered this spate of affection.

She: “Every possible tender word for to-morrow [their beloved April 8, the anniversary of their engagement, was coming up]. The first time in 21 years we dont spend this anniversary together—How vividly one remembers all! Ah my beloved Boy, what happiness & love you have given me all these years….

“April 8th 1915.… How the years go by! 21 already. You know I have kept the grey princesse dress I wore that morning. And shall wear yr. dear brooch.”

At about that time Vasilchikova returned to Petrograd—and evidently brought with her letters from Germany.

She: “April 17th 1915.… I had a long, dear letter fr. Erni—I will show it you upon your return. He says that ‘if there is someone who understands him (i.e., you) & know what he is going through, then it is me.’ He kisses you tenderly. He longs for a way out of this dilemma, that someone ought to begin to make a bridge for discussion. So he had an idea of quite privately sending a man of confidence to Stockholm, who should meet a gentleman sent by you (privately)
that they could help disperse many momentary difficulties. He had this idea, as in Germany there is no real hatred against Russia. So he sent a gentleman to be there on the 28.… So I at once wrote an answer … & sent it the gentleman, telling him you are not yet back, so he better not wait—& that tho one longs for peace, the time has not yet come. I wanted to get all done before you return, as I know it would be unpleasant for you.”

How she hoped he would suddenly say, “The time has come.” In vain.

May 6 was approaching.

She: “May 4th 1915.… So sad we shall not spend your dear birthday together—the first time!… It is not an easy nor light cross He has placed upon yr. shoulders—would that I could help you carrying, in prayers & thoughts I ever do. I would yearn to lessen yr. burden—so much you have had to suffer in those 20 years—& you were borne on the day of the long-suffering Job too, my poor Sweetheart.”

She: “June 13th.… I am sad that your dear heart does not feel right, please let Botkin see you upon yr. return.… I feel so awfully for those who have anything with the heart, suffering from it myself for so many years. Hiding ones sorrow, swallowing all, makes it so bad.… Your eyes seemed like it at times. Only always tell it me, as I have after all enough experience with heart complains & I can perhaps help you. Speak about all to me, talk it out, cry even, it makes it phisically too, easier sometimes….

“June 14th 1915.… Then he [Grand Duke Paul] mentioned another thing to me wh. tho’ painful its better to warn you about—namely, that since 6 months one speaks of a spy being at the Headquarters & when I asked the name, he said Gen. Danilov [one of Russia’s most talented generals].… Try & have an eye upon the man & his doings.”

Defeats at the front compelled him to look for scapegoats, and he found a way: spies. Spy mania began—a spy hunt. At first they wanted to make Jews into spies. A field court-martial in Dvinsk hung
several for espionage. Subsequently it turned out that they were innocent and were posthumously vindicated, but by that time Grand Duke Nicholas Nikolaevich had already hatched a different plan: the commander-in-chief decided to go hunting for much bigger game.

So arose the famous affair of the German spy Colonel Myasoedov. With the help of Myasoedov’s testimonies, Nikolasha got his main enemy, War Minister Vladimir Sukhomlinov. In June Sukhomlinov resigned from his ministerial post. From Sukhomlinov a thread stretched, via his wife, to “our Friend.” And that meant to Alix. The “German spy”—what could be simpler!

Alix decided to show that she too was taking part in this universal occupation of spy catching. She found her own: Quartermaster General Danilov, one of the most talented and evil-tongued generals at Headquarters, and her “Friend’s” natural enemy.

She: “June 15th 1915.… I am eagerly awaiting your promised letter.… I went to Mavra for an hour [the wife of Grand Duke Konstantin Konstaninovich, K.R.], she is calm & brave—Tatiana [K.R.’s daughter] looks awful & yet thinner & greener.”

In early June, K.R. passed away at his palace in Pavlovsk. Not long before, the youngest and most brilliant of his sons, Oleg, had been mortally wounded at the front during an attack. K.R. himself had shut the young man’s eyes. The death of his favorite son had hastened K.R.’s own end. The poet was the last Romanov to be buried with ceremony in the Cathedral of Saints Peter and Paul.

She: “June 16th 1915.… Your sweet smelling jasmine I put in my gospel—it reminded me of Peterhof.… The afternoon I remained on the balkony—I wanted to go to Church in the evening, but felt too tired. The heart is, oh, so heavy & sad—I always remember what our Friend says & how often we do not enough heed His words. He was so much against yr. going to the Headquarters, because people there get round you & make you do things, wh. would have been better not done.… When He says not to do a thing & one does not listen, one sees ones fault always afterwards.… That can mean no good. He [Nikolasha] grudges no doubt Gr[igory]’s visits to our house & therefore wants you away from him, at the Headquarters. If they only knew how they harm instead of helping you, blind people with their hatred against Gr.! You remember
dans Les amis de Dieu
it says a country cannot be lost whose Sovereign is guided by a man of God’s. Oh let him guide you more.”

He: “16 June, 1915. My beloved Sunny, I thank you with all my heart for your sweet, long letter.… With regard to Danilov, I think that the idea of his being a spy is not worth an empty eggshell.”

She: “June 17th 1915. My very own darling,… Wify ought to
send you bright & cheery letters, but its difficult, as am feeling more than lowspirited & depressed these days—so many things worry me. Now the Duma is to come together in August, & our Friend begged you several times to do it as late as possible.… Here they will try to mix in & speak about things that do not concern them. Never forget that you are & must remain an authocratic Emperor—we are not ready for a constitutional government. N[ikolasha]’s faults & Wittes it was that the Duma exists, & it has caused you more worry than joy.… Forgive my writing all this, but I feel so utterly miserable, & as tho’ all were giving you wrong advises & profitting of your kindness. Hang the Headquarters.… You are remaining still long away, Gr. begged not—once all goes against his wishes my heart bleeds in anguish & fright;—Oh, to keep & protect you fr. more worries & miserys, one has enough more than the heart can bear.”

She had already received news: Nikolasha was planning to bring charges against Rasputin. Good Nicky might not understand, he might believe him!

Meanwhile, the spy business had already reached Rasputin’s vicinity. Was he really a German spy? Of course not. He served the family loyally. But he had a problem: Alix kept demanding new predictions, and he could not err. Therefore Rasputin put together his own think tank in his apartment on Gorokhovskaya: sharp operators and industrialists—“smart men.” He was sharing military information with them that came from the tsar, which he discussed with them, whereupon the cunning man grasped what his next prophecy should be. Of course, since one of those “smart men” could have represented German intelligence on Gorokhovskaya, proof was evidently not impossible to find. But the commander-in-chief took the usual route: instead of patiently preparing an espionage case, he bit at what the Holy Devil had held out to him—the scandal at the Yar restaurant—and fell into Rasputin’s trap. Familiar with the peripeteiae of the Moscow scandal, the commander of the Gendarme Corps, Dzhunkovsky, prepared a report on Grigory’s escapades, which Nikolasha rushed out.

She: “June 22nd.… My enemy Dzhunkovsky … has shown that vile, filthy paper (against our Friend) to Dmitri who repeated all to Paul.… Such a sin; & as tho’ you had said to him, that you have had enough of these dirty stories & wish him to be severely punished.… You see how he turns your words & orders round—the slanderers were to be punished & not he [Rasputin]—& that at Headquarters one wants him to be got rid of (this I believe)—ah, its
so vile.… If we let our Friend be persecuted we & our country shall suffer for it.… Ah, my Love, when at last will you thump with your hand upon the table & scream at Dzhu[n]kovsky & others?… One does not fear you … they must be frightened of you.… If Dzhunkovsky is with you, call him, tell him you know … he has shown that paper in town & that you order him to tear it up & not to dare speak of Gregory as he does & that he acts as a traitor & not a devoted subject, who ought to stand up for the Friends of his Sovereign, as one does in every other country. Oh my Boy, make one tremble before you.… You are always too kind & all profit. It cannot go on like that.”