Anastasia (12 page)

Sailor Derevenko left, but not before he treated Alexei very badly. He’s been with my brother since Alexei was just beginning to walk, and we always thought Derevenko was devoted. But as soon as Papa abdicated, Sailor Derevenko began ordering Alexei to run little errands, as though
he
were the tsarevitch and Alexei his servant! Now I wonder how many other people that I thought truly cared for us have been waiting for a chance to be as mean and heartless as possible. At least Sailor Nagorny still seems loyal.

I wanted to
kick
Derevenko, but he was gone before I got a chance.

18/31 March 1917

If I’m going to keep on writing in this diary, I must not start every entry with “a horrible thing happened” or “this is terrible” or “that person behaved rudely.” But it’s true! The soldiers who came to guard us have no manners at all. I found two in our bathroom this morning, taking the cap off the tooth powder and shaking it out as though they had never used a toothbrush. And when our doctors come to treat us, those loutish soldiers barge right into our bedrooms to watch.

21 March/3 April 1917

I promised I would not say “this terrible thing,” but this is
truly
terrible: Anya and Lili were arrested today. It was raining, and we watched from the window of Alexei’s room as they were driven away. We have no idea what will happen to them and are sick with worry.

The man who took them was the minister of justice, Alexander Feodorovitch Kerensky. He has a face like a rat. Papa says we may expect to see more of him, that our fate is in his hands.

Papa is also worried about Grandmother. She visited him at Petrograd for a short time after he announced that he was abdicating. She told him she was leaving for the Crimea, and of course we’re all praying that she got there safely.

22 March/4 April 1917

We’ve learned a bit more: Lili and Anya were taken to Petrograd, where Lili was released and Anya imprisoned at the Fortress of Peter and Paul. We have no idea why Anya was kept and Lili let go. It’s frightening not to know the reasons.

24 March/6 April 1917

We’ve had a letter from Grandmother. Her train got through safely to the Crimea, and she’s at her palace on the Black Sea. My aunt Olga has recently married, and she’s on her way there with her new husband. Also, Aunt Xenia and Uncle Sandro are already there with my six horrid cousins, plus Irina and her husband, Prince Yussupov, who murdered Father Grigory! Although Mama has never forgiven Prince Yussupov for what he did, we all wish we could be there, too.

25 March/7 April 1917

Papa gets upset with the soldiers because they have no military discipline — they don’t comb their hair, they don’t clean their boots, they leave their jackets unbuttoned. And they don’t act like soldiers, either. Yesterday the weather was fine, and one of the soldiers on guard duty carried a gilt chair out of the hall and set it in the sun. There he lounged with his rifle on his knees and his cap shading his eyes while he took a little nap. It did give Papa something to laugh at.

28 March/10 April 1917

No sooner were we all feeling better than Papa and Mama decided we must continue with our studies. And they’re to do some of the tutoring! Papa will instruct us in history and geography, and Mama will teach religion. Baroness Buxhoeveden is giving us piano lessons, and the other lady-in-waiting, Countess Hendrikov, will teach art. Monsieur Gilliard is the headmaster and will continue to torture me (this not a mistake for “tutor me”) in French, and Mr. Gibbes in English. This will begin next week, after Easter.

I’d hoped we’d be free of studies until we are
really
free. No such luck.

2/15 April 1917

Easter

Last night after the long midnight service, which we had here in the palace, Papa invited the officers on duty guarding us to join us for our traditional Easter supper. I would have called it a
feast
, but this was no feast, because of the shortages. There was no sweetened cheese to spread on the kulich, which is supposed to be as light and tender as a cloud but was more like a brick. And there were no flowers. Mama misses the fresh flowers she always used to have in all her rooms, but the soldiers say flowers are luxuries forbidden to prisoners.

4/17 April 1917

One luxury we do have is Alexei’s cinema projector and collection of films. In the evenings Alexei invites anyone he can find to come to his room to watch a
performance
. Some of the films are really funny, and it keeps Alexei happy.

14/27 April 1917

The snow is nearly gone, and we’re sometimes permitted to walk in the park. Mama is always in her wheelchair, and we take turns pushing her. It’s awful (I know, I said it again), because everyone stares at us, and sometimes they jeer. Alexei gets upset, because he’s used to everybody bowing to Papa. But Papa says we must be polite and friendly, even to those who are impolite and unfriendly to us, that it will pay in the long run. I’m just not sure I can stand the short run.

21 April/4 May 1917

A new officer, Colonel Yevgeny Kobylinsky, has arrived, and Papa says this is good news. The colonel has been wounded twice and was even a patient in one of our hospitals. Papa says he’s loyal to us, but that he must do his duty as a soldier and we must not make his job more difficult.

I keep thinking how nice it would be if Mashka’s Kolya would be assigned here, but she has heard nothing from him in months and fears the worst.

5/18 May 1917

We’re making a vegetable garden in the park. All of us (except Mama, who watches from her wheelchair or her favorite rug) have been digging up the sod and hauling it away. It looks so funny to see M. Gilliard and Mr. Gibbes in their bowler hats, shoveling with the rest of us! Some of the servants are helping, and even a few of the soldiers have pitched in. They must have gotten bored just mocking us.

Tomorrow is Papa’s birthday but he says we mustn’t fuss. We’ll work in the garden again.

22 May/4 June 1917

The seeds are planted, and the weeds haven’t yet begun to spring up. We were outside, gazing at our handiwork, when this foolish incident happened: Papa had gone off to saw up some dead trees for firewood for next winter (his latest project), and Alexei began marching around with a toy rifle. Some of the soldiers saw him and thought it was a real gun and started shouting, “They’re armed!” and took it away. How stupid they all are.

29 May/11 June 1917

At last a story with a happy ending. Alexei’s toy rifle was turned over to Colonel Kobylinsky, who took it apart and has been bringing a piece of it to Alexei each time he comes to visit. He made Alexei promise he would play with it only in his own room. This cheered up Alexei. And when Alexei is happy, Mama is, too. She had been so sad since her birthday four days ago. Now Tatiana can have a nice birthday. Today she is twenty.

1/14 June 1917

Some of the first sprouts have begun to appear in our garden. Radishes, I think, and carrots.

5/18 June 1917

My sixteenth birthday, the year Grandmother promised to take me to Paris. Everyone is trying to be cheerful for my sake. There was even a small cake. I was actually thinking about the necklace that I’m supposed to have, when Mama mentioned it, very quietly. We’re sure to be leaving here soon, and we’ll need all our jewels — Mama’s, my sisters’, and mine — to sell later, when we need money. Best gift of all: a new puppy, a spaniel. I’m calling her Jimmy.

17/30 June 1917

We still have no idea when we’re leaving, or where we’re going. One possibility is England, but that means getting first to a Finnish port, which is very dangerous, because we would have to travel through territory controlled by revolutionary soldiers. Or maybe we’ll go to Livadia to be near Grandmother and our other relatives. We’d love that — even the horrid cousins!

Count Benckendorff says we absolutely must stop talking about going to Livadia, because it could be a bad thing if the soldiers overheard us. Meanwhile, Papa counsels patience: He’s sure we will be rescued.

29 June/12 July 1917

Our garden looks terrific! We carry water to it in barrels and pull lots of weeds. I’m getting huge muscles. Jimmy follows me everywhere.

No word yet on our future.

7/20 July 1917

Still no word, but we’ve begun to pack secretly.

11/24 July 1917

Ratface Kerensky was here an hour ago to talk to Papa. We’re leaving soon, but he refused to tell us when or where! All he would say is that we must take plenty of warm clothes. That means we’re not going to Livadia. Papa says we have to trust this man.

Now he and Mama are deciding who will go with us. I hate to leave our dear home at Tsarskoe Selo, and I’m also frightened. Where can we be going?

30 July/12 August 1917

Alexei’s thirteenth birthday. No party, but a procession of clergy came from the village with a holy icon, and many prayers were said for a safe journey.

31 July/13 August 1917

We’re leaving at one o’clock in the morning, and there’s much to do to get ready. Papa has instructed Count Benckendorff (who must stay behind because his wife is ill) to distribute the vegetables from our garden and his piles of firewood to the servants who helped with the work. My sisters and Alexei and I made one last trip to our favorite island in the pond. People keep coming up to us and bidding us farewell. We might as well be going to the moon.

3/16 August 1917

On a train

Not to the moon, but to Siberia. Ratface says we’ll be quite safe there, which I guess is something. This is not our imperial train, but it’s very nice. There’s room for servants and for Alexei’s dog, Joy, Tatiana’s Ortino, and my Jimmy (not that we would consent to leave without them). Eira is staying with Count Benckendorff.

We waited all night and finally left at six in the morning. Yesterday we crossed the Ural Mountains. It’s much cooler here.

Colonel Kobylinsky is on the train with us, and there’s another train behind this one carrying three hundred soldiers who will guard us. When the train goes through a village, all the blinds are drawn so that no one can see us (and be shocked by the sight of four girls whose hair is still
very
short). There are signs on the cars that say
JAPANESE RED CROSS MISSION
. Can the people really hate us so much that we must travel in disguise?

5/18 August 1917

On the
Rus

We left the train yesterday, and now we’re going up the Tura River on this little steamer. Once in a while we pass a cluster of cottages. One of these villages was Father Grigory’s. Mama reminded us that long ago Father Grigory predicted that she would one day see his village. That made me shudder.

15/28 August 1917

Tobolsk, Siberia

When we arrived last week, the house where we’re to stay was a mess — not even any furniture. But Colonel Kobylinsky hired workmen to repair and paint, and now we’re nicely settled in. We sisters share one big corner room on the second floor, and it’s very cozy. The colonel even got a piano for us. There isn’t space for everyone here, so some of our staff stay in a house across the street. We’re determined to make the best of this.

21 August/3 September 1917

What a shame. The soldiers got upset when we went across the street to visit our staff — “too much freedom,” they said — and so a high wooden fence has been built around our house. We have only a very small (and very muddy) space for exercise.

Good news, though, is that Mr. Gibbes has come out from Petrograd. We were all very glad to see him.

10/23 September 1917

We’re allowed to attend early Mass at the church down the street. The soldiers form long lines, and we walk between them. Still, the people of Tobolsk seem friendly and have even sent us gifts of butter and eggs.

We’re getting acquainted with the soldiers. They’re no happier than we are about being here! Mashka has learned the names of at least a dozen, as well as their wives and children. And Papa and Alexei sometimes go into the guardhouse to play games with the men. They’re especially nice to Alexei. Only Mama is completely miserable. She doesn’t complain, but I see it on her face.

21 September/4 October 1917

It’s already much colder here than at Tsarskoe Selo. By midafternoon the sun has set, and we’ve turned on the lamps. I try not to think about Livadia!

Papa’s only complaint is that he doesn’t get his mail regularly. He hasn’t seen a newspaper and doesn’t know what’s happening. I wonder if he still writes in his diary every day. What is there to write when there’s nothing to write?!

27 September/10 October 1917

We’ve settled into a routine not much different from the one at Tsarskoe Selo, at least for us children. Papa no longer has endless meetings, but we still have endless classes, starting at nine o’clock. Mama is constantly busy sewing our clothes, especially mine. I’m ashamed to say why: Olga and Tatiana get thinner and thinner, but I’m doing the opposite. Also, she’s knitting stockings for Alexei because we know that the winter is going to be fiercely cold.

9/22 October 1917

Mama has a letter from Anya. She’s been released from the fortress, thank God. She says it was terrible and she didn’t think she’d survive. I hope Anya will be able to find a way to get us out of here.

2/15 November 1917

Papa finally got some news, and it truly shocked him. Kerensky, the one I call Ratface, is out of power, and the Provisional Government has been overthrown by a revolutionary group called the Bolsheviks. Papa says they want the government to be run by the workers! But one of their leaders, Vladimir Ilyitch Lenin, is a traitor who betrayed Russia for his own gain. For the first time, Papa is sorry he abdicated, which he did for the good of the Russian people, if the result is that Russia has fallen into the hands of evil men.

3/16 November 1917

Olga’s birthday. A dismal day.

24 November/7 December 1917

Our room has turned into an icebox, and we wear layer upon layer of clothing to keep warm. Jimmy sleeps on my feet, which helps. But poor Ortino shivers all the time.