Anastasia (11 page)

If Mama and the Big Pair didn’t have so much work at their hospital, we could come more often. When I grumbled about that, Mama told me I must not be selfish but think of those who are sacrificing so much. That made me feel guilty — exactly what Mama intended, I suppose.

12/25 September 1916

Ts. S.

No matter how many promises I make to myself, I keep forgetting to write in this diary. Maybe
forgetting
is not the right word. It seems that everything I have to put down is either discouraging (Romania has declared war on Germany, and Papa is very worried) or boring (lessons) or just silly. Maybe today I’ll write about something silly, such as the new game we’ve made up: riding our bicycles at breakneck speed through the palace halls. By “we,” I mean Mashka and me. Tatiana is too sensible to indulge in such foolishness, and Olga is always too busy reading some book or other. So far we’ve had several spectacular crashes but amazingly have not yet broken a single thing.

17/30 October 1916

War news hasn’t been good lately, and I don’t want to write about it because today is supposed to be a celebration — the second anniversary of the founding of the hospital here at the Great Palace. There was a concert this afternoon by the orchestra from the
Standart
. I recognized lots of the pieces they used to play on the yacht, and it made all of us feel sad — including, I think, the musicians.

21 October/3 November 1916

Olga has gotten a kitten, an adorable little thing. She wears a blue ribbon with a tiny bell around her neck. Maybe this will put an end to our mouse roommates, who came back as soon as the weather turned cold. Alexei’s cat proved much too lazy for the job, and when Alexei went to stay at
Stavka
, it ran away and has never been seen again. Actually it was a bad-tempered thing, and I don’t miss it.

More awful news about the war. The Germans have occupied most of Romania, and Papa has ordered troops to try to save Bucharest, the capital. To think that Olga might be there now if she had married Prince Carol!

27 October/9 November 1916

Papa is taking Alexei to visit Grandmother in Kiev, where she now lives. I used to complain sometimes about her formal Sunday luncheons, where I was expected to behave perfectly and speak French and eat all kinds of foreign food, but now I miss her very much and would even eat those snails if she asked me to.

2/15 November 1916

Papa and Alexei came here from Kiev, and both are in a black mood. Alexei complains that Papa was gruff with him (and Papa is never gruff!). I have even heard Mama and Papa exchange sharp words. The subject is Father Grigory. Mama gets lots of help and advice from him when Papa is away, and Papa doesn’t agree with that advice. He says that Father Grigory may be a saint and a miracle worker, but he is not the tsar and should not tell Mama which government leaders to dismiss and whom to appoint. I’m not supposed to know any of this.

23 November/6 December 1916

Papa is home, and as a special treat he and Mama are attending the ballet in Petrograd. My sisters and I are going, and Anya, too! We’re very excited, for since the war began we haven’t attended any balls or parties or done anything at all exciting.

Alexei isn’t going. He can’t walk well just now, and it would cause too much gossip if the tsarevitch had to be carried by one of the sailors. I’m a little afraid that at the last moment Mama and Papa will decide that
none
of us should go, because that would cause less attention than if only the tsarevitch is missing.

24 November/7 December 1916

The ballet was absolutely enchanting! The Maryinski Theater is so pretty, with gold brocade and red velvet everywhere. Mama wore a beautiful gown of ice-blue satin embroidered with pearls, we wore blue velvet, and Anya wore a gown that might have looked better as a lamp shade. (I mentioned this to Tatiana, who says I am too cruel for words. But she was laughing.)

We watched the Imperial Ballet perform
Pharoah’s Daughter
. The
prima ballerina assoluta
, Mathilde Kschessinska, is the most beautiful dancer in the world. A young ballet student played the part of a monkey and leaped around in the tops of make-believe trees until Kschessinska shot him down with a make-believe arrow. After the performance the boy came to our box to be presented to Papa and Mama, who gave him a silver box of chocolates. The boy could hardly speak, he was so overcome — he just stared.

After the ballet we had a late supper with Anya.

5/18 December 1916

Papa called from
Stavka
with the dreadful news that Bucharest has fallen to the enemy. I can’t bear to move the pins on the map one more time.

8/21 December 1916

Aunt Ella has come from Moscow to visit Mama and plans to stay for several days. We’re so happy to have her here, because it does get lonely at times since we hardly ever go anywhere and Papa is rarely here.

9/22 December 1916

We’ve just seen Aunt Ella off at the railroad station. She stayed less than one day.

Here’s what happened: The real reason Aunt Ella came was not just for a family visit but to speak seriously to Mama about Father Grigory. Our aunt believes that Father Grigory is not a real holy man at all but a fraud, and that he’s giving Mama bad advice. I heard her with my own ears: “Rasputin, that man you call
holy
, has pushed Russia to the brink of disaster.” She told Mama that the country is in chaos, the peasants are starving, and the army is threatening rebellion. She even said there are revolutionaries who want to depose Papa and take over the country.

And then she started ticking off all the bad advice that Father Grigory has given to Mama. Mostly it has to do with getting rid of certain officials that Father Grigory doesn’t like, or who don’t like him, and naming others to replace them. And the ones Mama appointed, Aunt Ella says, are incompetent and weak and make matters worse.

But Mama refused to listen. She says she knows that lots of people disapprove of Father Grigory, and that many actually hate him. But Mama knows who he truly is, a saint, and she will not listen to lies about him, and not for anything in the world will she send him away.

Since Mama would not listen to her, even for a minute, Aunt Ella went back to Moscow. She and Mama were both crying.

18/31 December 1916

Father Grigory is missing. No one can find him, and Mama expects the worst. She’s convinced he was murdered by an assassin. She says he often told her, “If I die or you desert me, you will lose your son and your crown within six months.” And she believes that.

It’s so terrible, I can’t write about it.

19 December 1916/1 January 1917

Father Grigory is dead. His body was found under the ice of the Neva River in Petrograd. Papa has come home from
Stavka
, and Mama is nearly hysterical with grief. I know her greatest fear: Now there is no one who can help Alexei with his illness. The assassin is Prince Felix Yussupov, who is married to Papa’s niece, Princess Irina, the sister of all those horrid boy cousins. The prince is so handsome, I can hardly believe that he could have done such a horrible thing, even though he claims he killed Rasputin for the good of Russia. He was helped by one of Papa’s favorite cousins, Dmitri Pavlovitch. And there were others, too. Papa intends to banish them from Petrograd forever.

I feel sorry for every bad thing I ever said or even thought about Father Grigory.

21 December 1916/3 January 1917

Today was one of the saddest days I remember, the day of Father Grigory’s funeral. His body was brought here secretly from Petrograd and prepared for burial. We drove to our church in a closed car, all of us dressed entirely in black. Before we left the palace, we signed our names on the back of a small icon of the Virgin Mary that Mama then placed on the breast of the corpse before the coffin was sealed. She gave us white flowers to scatter on top of the coffin. Then Father Grigory’s body was buried in the park, near the spot where Anya is building a chapel. Poor Mama. Poor Papa. Poor everybody.

24 December 1916/6 January 1917

It’s Christmas Eve. We’ve exchanged some little handmade gifts and given presents to the staff, but we’re all too upset to celebrate in any way. We sit and stare out at the falling snow.

28 December 1916/10 January 1917

Papa doesn’t want to see anyone or speak with anyone. He’s very nervous and distraught and smokes one cigarette after another. Mama and Anya hold each other’s hands and weep. Alexei’s arm hurts him. The doctors do what they can, but there is no Father Grigory to call when it gets really bad.

19 January/1 February 1917

I just don’t feel like writing. Everyone and everything is bleak and gloomy.

4/17 February 1917

Olga and Tatiana are both ill with measles. I’ve been sitting in their darkened room to keep them company. Mama’s friend Lili Dehn came to try to cheer us up. She doesn’t have an easy task.

To distract us all, Papa reads to us, mostly stories by Chekhov.

9/22 February 1917

Not feeling well. Headache. I hope it’s not measles.

17 February/2 March 1917

I do have measles. So does Alexei. And Anya, too! Anya complains more than all of us put together. Tatiana has pain in her ears, and her head is bandaged, so she can’t hear a thing. Olga’s cough is so bad, she can’t speak. Mashka is still all right. Mama has all she can do to take care of us. Lili Dehn is staying with us, sleeping on the sofa in the Red Room, to be near us all. Papa went back to
Stavka
to see what can be done. He told us to be brave, and we promised, but we all burst into tears the minute he was gone.

25 February/10 March 1917

Revolutionaries have taken over the whole city of Petrograd. It’s hard for me to understand this. Lili tries to explain that people are suffering from the war and want it to end. (We all do!) She says there are men who insist that Papa doesn’t know how to win the war and doesn’t care for the Russian people. Even the soldiers in Petrograd are turning against the tsar. This is what Aunt Ella was trying to warn Mama about.

Papa called to say he’s coming home. He reminded us again to be brave, but I’m too frightened to sleep.

1/14 March 1917

Where is Papa? We’re frantic. He should be here by now. We know only that he couldn’t get through Petrograd to reach us because the revolutionaries control the railroad station. The water and electricity have been cut off, and the telephone lines as well.

Baroness Buxhoeveden arrived in a hysterical state, saying that a sentry has been killed not five hundred meters from the palace. Mama and Mashka (the only one of us who is not dreadfully sick) put on heavy coats and went out to plead with the palace guards to remain calm. I was terrified that something would happen to them, but they returned safely, and I thank God for that. The rebellious soldiers have agreed to establish a neutral zone. Everything seems calm again. But I’m not.

3/16 March 1917

Still no word from Papa. A blizzard swirls around us, the wind howling and the snow so thick, we can’t see anything outside our windows.

We’ve heard sickening rumors that Papa has abdicated. That mean he’s no longer tsar. But who will be tsar now? Alexei is still too young. Mama would never allow it.

4/17 March 1917

I will never forget this day as long as I live. Papa managed to get through to Mama by telephone and confirm the rumors: He has abdicated. Two days ago he informed the Duma, the elected assembly, that he would abdicate in favor of his son. But then he realized that Alexei is too frail, and that he would be taken away from us. So Papa changed his mind and abdicated in favor of Uncle Misha, his brother Mikhail Alexandrovitch. But then Uncle Misha abdicated as well, and now there is no tsar.

Mama, weeping, turned to us and said, “The first part has come true, just as Father Grigory predicted. We have lost the crown.”

5/18 March 1917

Papa is on his way home. He told us that the Duma has set up something called a provisional government. I don’t know what this means. On the advice of Lili, Mama is burning her diaries, started before any of us were born. A great fire is roaring in the grate in the Red Room, and one by one she feeds the books into the flames.

I don’t know what my sisters will do, but I have resolved never to burn mine.

8/21 March 1917

We are under arrest! General Kornilov of the Provisional Government arrived, demanding to speak to Mama. (I saw him; he’s unbelievably ugly.) He told her that he’s doing this to protect us from the revolutionary soldiers, and that after Papa comes we’ll all go to Murmansk, and a British cruiser will take us to England. When the general left, Mama came to tell us this horrible news. Tatiana is still quite deaf, so I had to write down for her what Mama said.

After he talked to Mama, the general spoke to the palace guards and the palace staff and told them they could leave if they wanted, but if they stay, they will be under house arrest with us. Most have already gone.

The regular guards have all deserted, and the soldiers who came in their place have been firing their rifles in the park. I think they’re shooting the deer.

The palace doors are locked. We are prisoners.

9/22 March 1917

Papa is back, at last. We were so glad to see him that we wept. So did Mama, and so did he. All we do is cry.

11/24 March 1917

Our hair has begun to fall out, whether from the disease or from the medicines, I don’t know. Mama decided the best thing is to shave our heads, and now we’re all as bald as baby birds. It’s so funny! It’s the only thing we have to laugh at.

We’re all feeling better except Mashka, who now has measles and pneumonia on top of it. Thank goodness Dr. Botkin and Dr. Derevenko are staying with us after so many others decided to leave.

Others who are still here: Anya, of course, and dear Lili; two of Mama’s ladies-in-waiting, Baroness Buxhoeveden and Countess Hendrikov; Count Benckendorff and his wife; and Prince Dolgoruky; also M. Gilliard and Mr. Gibbes. Professor Petrov is gone without a farewell.