The Romanov Sisters (Four Sisters) (60 page)

Omsk in 1850 – and as the haunt of mosquitoes ‘said to be of a size

and a ferocity unequalled elsewhere’.14 Malaria haunted the miasmas

of the marshy forests that stretched for miles around the town.

A small, eighteenth-century kremlin of white stone – the only

one of its kind in Siberia – dominated the view from the top of a

steep bluff inland, and was pretty much all that Tobolsk had to offer the adventurous tourist. Its major attraction was the former bishop’s palace – now a courthouse – the St Sophia Cathedral, and a museum

containing ‘large collections of old instruments of torture: branding tools, used to stamp the foreheads and cheeks of prisoners, instruments for pulling out the center bone of the nose [a favourite of

torturers during the reign of Boris Godunov], painful shackles, and

other horrible devices’.15 Churches dominated the town: twenty had

been built to serve a population of around 23,000 people. Kerensky

knew Tobolsk, having visited it in 1910, and had chosen it for the

Romanovs, not as a lesson in the iniquities of tsarism, but because

it had no industrial proletariat, no railway depots or factories seething with political activists, and because for eight months of the year it was ‘shut off from the world . . . as remote from human association

as the moon’.16 The Siberian winter was a better policeman than

any prison; as Olga was soon to discover: ‘Tobolsk is a forgotten

corner when the river freezes.’17

While the family waited on board the
Rus
,
Kobylinsky, Dolgorukov, Tatishchev and Makarov went ahead to inspect the family’s accommodation. The former Governor’s House – hastily rechristened

Freedom House – was on the also appropriately revolutionary

Freedom Street. It was one of the two best buildings that the town

had to offer, and had the advantage of surrounding boardwalks to

325

693GG_TXT.indd 325

29/10/2013 16:17

FOUR SISTERS

spare the pedestrian from the quagmire of the intractable autumn

mud. But two hours later the three men came back with grim faces:

the ‘dirty, boarded-up, smelly house’ had ‘terrible bathrooms and

toilets’ and in its present state, was totally uninhabitable.18 Until three days previously it had been used as a barracks by deputies of

the local Workers’ and Soldiers’ soviet, who had left it filthy and

practically stripped of furniture. There were no chairs, tables, washstands, or even carpets. The double winter windows were grimy and

had not been removed and there was rubbish everywhere. Forced

to remain on board the
Rus
and in order to pass the time while waiting for the house to be got ready, the Romanov family took

some excursions on the river and made the most of any opportunity

to get off and walk.

Anna Demidova had meanwhile gone on ahead to help prepare

the house and had been deeply depressed at the sight of its derelict

interior. Soon she was trudging round town with Nastenka

Hendrikova and Vasily Dolgorukov in search of household supplies:

jugs and ewers for the washstands, buckets, tins of paint, flat-irons, inkpots, candles, writing paper, wool and thread for darning, as

well as a much needed laundress to handle all the family’s washing.

She stopped to admire the fur coats and warm
valenki
on sale in the market – all at horribly inflated prices, deliberately raised in

the knowledge of the imperial entourage’s arrival in town. But

otherwise ‘everything here is very primitive’ she noted in her diary.19

Makarov meanwhile had been hunting for a piano for Alexandra

and the grand duchesses as well as additional furniture, while a team of upholsterers, carpenters, painters and electricians was gathered

together – some of them German prisoners of war – to refurbish

the house at speed.20 Most urgent were repairs to the inadequate

plumbing, but there was also considerable concern about where

exactly the authorities would put all the staff who could not be

accommodated in the Governor’s House.

‘The family is bearing everything with great sangfroid and

courage’, wrote Dolgorukov. ‘They apparently adapt to circum-

stances easily, or at least pretend to, and do not complain after all their previous luxury.’21 Finally, on Sunday 13 August the house was

ready. Only one carriage was laid on to take Alexandra from the

326

693GG_TXT.indd 326

29/10/2013 16:17

ON FREEDOM STREET

ship to the house, accompanied by Tatiana; the rest of the family,

servants and entourage walked the mile (1½ km) into town. When

they entered, the whole of the ground floor was a mass of luggage

and packing cases; nevertheless they were allowed an impromptu

Sunday service conducted by the local priest, who went round

blessing the rooms with holy water.22

Although their packing had been hurried, Alexandra had ensured

that they had brought with them not just their personal clothing

and possessions but also many of their favourite pictures, silver

tableware, monogrammed china, table linen, a phonograph and

records, their cameras and photographic equipment, favourite books,

a trunkful of photograph albums, and another containing all

Nicholas’s letters and diaries (which he had not destroyed). The

girls had left behind all their beautiful court dresses and their large picture hats, bringing only simple linen suits, white summer dresses, skirts, blouses, sunhats and, as instructed, plenty of warm cardigans, scarves and hats, fur jackets and thick felt coats.

The family was accommodated on the first floor of the two-storey

house, with the girls sharing a corner bedroom facing the street.

Alexey had another with his
dyadka
Nagorny in a small room next to it.23
*
There was a bedroom for Nicholas and Alexandra, as well as a study for him and a private drawing room for her, a bathroom

and toilet. A large upstairs ballroom opposite Nicholas’s study would be used for church services, furnished with the field chapel that the family had brought with them from Tsarskoe Selo and with

Alexandra’s lace bedspread serving as an altar cloth. Services would

be conducted by the priest and deacon from the nearby

Blagoveshchensky Church, assisted by four nuns from the Ivanovsky

Convent outside town, who came to sing the liturgy (and also brought

welcome gifts of eggs and milk).24

With a typical lack of complaint the four sisters immediately set

about making the most of their new surroundings by ensuring that

* Alexey’s other
dyadka
, Derevenko, did not travel with them to Tobolsk; his behaviour towards the boy had changed since the revolution. He had become harsh and churlish in his manner towards Alexey and was no longer perceived as the kind and trustworthy carer he had once been.

327

693GG_TXT.indd 327

29/10/2013 16:17

FOUR SISTERS

the room they shared was as congenial as possible. It had a tradi-

tional, tall white-tiled stove in the corner, a small sofa scattered with cushions, a table which was soon stacked with books, pens and

writing paper. Simple white bentwood chairs stood at the foot of

each of the girls’ four modest campbeds, brought from the Alexander

Palace and surrounded with screens covered with colourful throws

and shawls, which the girls also draped on the bare and draughty

white walls to create a sense of warmth and intimacy. On their tiny

bedside tables the sisters crammed their favourite knick-knacks, icons and photographs. Each girl also fixed many pictures on the wall

above her own bedhead: the younger two opting for fond reminders

of the Tsar’s Escort in their Cossack uniforms at Mogilev and other

friends, relatives, pets and much-loved wounded officers, while their older sisters’ more sober tastes focused on religious images and a

large photograph of their parents on board the
Shtandart.
25

The dining room was located downstairs, as was a room occupied

by Pierre Gilliard where he also gave the children lessons. Later

on, shared rooms downstairs were allocated to the maids Aleksandra

Tegleva and Elizaveta Ersberg who looked after the children, Mariya

Tutelberg who attended Alexandra, and other staff including

Nicholas’s valet Terenty Chemodurov. For now the rest of the

entourage and servants were housed in the even more ill-prepared

and uncongenial Kornilov House opposite: Nastenka Hendrikova

and her maid Paulina Mezhants, Dr Botkin (who in mid-September

was joined by his two children, Gleb and Tatiana), Dr Derevenko

and his family, Tatishchev and Dolgorukov. Here, occupying crudely

partitioned cubicles in a large draughty hall, and with very little

concession to privacy, the women were later joined by Trina

Schneider and her two maids Katya and Masha and another tutor,

Klavidya Bitner.26 Although the family remained under house arrest

with only the yard outside to move about in and occasional excur-

sions to the nearby church, the entourage and servants were, for

the time being, allowed to go about freely in town.

*

The weather remained hot and sunny in Tobolsk well into September,

but the family had been deeply disconsolate to see that the ‘so-called
328

693GG_TXT.indd 328

29/10/2013 16:17

ON FREEDOM STREET

garden’ was a ‘nasty little vegetable patch’ that would only grow a

few cabbages and swedes at best.27 In addition, at the back of the

house were a lean-to greenhouse, woodshed and barn, and a few

spindly birch trees. There were no flowers or shrubs at all. The

only concession for the children was a couple of swings. Nicholas

was bitterly disappointed that the garden offered no scope for the

physical labour and recreation that he craved, though within days

he had chopped down a dry pine tree and was allowed to put up

his horizontal bar on which he did his daily chin- ups. To the side

of the house the authorities had hastily created a square dusty

courtyard for recreation – twice a day, between 11 and 12 and after

lunch until dusk – in a fenced-off part of the unpaved road.

The uncertainties of the family’s new environment were very

quickly compounded by the increasingly erratic arrival of letters.

‘My dear Katya,’ Anastasia wrote within days of their arrival, ‘I am

writing this letter to you being certain that you will never get it . . .

It is so sad to be unable to hear from you. We often, often think

and talk of you . . . Have you received my letter of 31 July and the

card that I wrote long ago?’ She was now numbering her letters in

hopes of keeping track of them. But her thoughts were already

turning to happier times: ‘Ask Victor whether he still remembers

last autumn. I am now remembering a lot . . . everything good, of

course!’ Enclosing a red petal from a poppy in the garden she

apologized for having so little to say: ‘I cannot write anything interesting . . . we spend our time monotonously.’28

The monotony was, however, broken soon after by unexpected

news: Olga’s friend Rita Khitrovo had arrived in Tobolsk anxious to

see the family and pass on to them some fifteen or so letters (which

she had hidden in a travelling pillow), as well as gifts of chocolate, perfume, sweets and biscuits, and icons sent by various friends.29

The highly-strung and excitable twenty-two-year-old, whose ingen-

uousness and devotion to Olga – to the point of hero worship – were

equalled only by her fearlessness, had taken it upon herself to make

the journey without any thought of the possible repercussions.

Refused admittance to the Governor’s House Rita went to the

Kornilov House opposite to see Nastenka Hendrikova, from where

she waved and blew kisses to the four sisters who had come out on

the balcony to try and catch a glimpse of her.

329

693GG_TXT.indd 329

29/10/2013 16:17

FOUR SISTERS

But her arrival alarmed the authorities. During her journey she

had sent postcards home that had been intercepted and interpreted

as suspicious. It was thought she might be colluding with Anna

Vyrubova and other monarchist friends in a conspiracy to rescue

the family, rumours of a nebulous plot by ‘Cossack officers’ having

already been circulating in Tobolsk. Soon afterwards, on the orders

of Kerensky, men came to inspect all the things Rita had brought

for the family. The letters were checked and deemed harmless,

but she was put under arrest and sent back to Moscow for ques-

tioning. Hearing the story later, Valentina Chebotareva thought a

‘mountain had been made out of a molehill’, for Rita insisted that

her journey had been undertaken entirely out of a personal desire

to see the family. But she had, unwittingly, caused them harm: ‘an

obliging fool is more dangerous than an enemy’, as Valentina

observed.30 Commissar Makarov was recalled by the Provisional

Government and replaced by a new man, Vasily Pankratov.

Pankratov was an archetypal, old-school revolutionary. The son

of peasants, he had been active in the extremist
Narodnaya Volya

[People’s Will] movement of the 1880s and in 1884 had been

sentenced to death for killing a gendarme in Kiev. It was only his

youth that had saved him from the gallows; instead he served four-