"A week or two before some small cadets from the military school had spent the afternoon playing with Alexei, and one of these boys had a cough and such a flushed face that the Empress had called the attention of M. Gilliard to the child, fearing illness. The next day we heard that he was ill with measles, but because our minds were so troubled with many other things, none of us thought much of the danger of contagion. As for me, even after Tatiana had told me that Olga and Alexei were suspected cases, it did not at once occur to me that I was going to be ill. Still my temperature went on rising and my headache was unrelieved. I lay in bed all the next day until the dinner hour when Mme. Dehn came in and I made a futile effort to get up and dress. ... The doctor was in the room and I heard him say: 'Measles. A bad case.' Then I drifted off into sleep or unconsciousness. That same day Tatiana fell ill, and now the Empress had four of us on her hands. Putting on her nurse's uniform, she spent all the succeeding days between her children's rooms and Mme. Half conscious, I felt gratefully her capable hands arranging my pillows, smoothing my burning forehead, and holding to my lips medicines and cooling drinks." - from Memories of the Russian Court (1923), by Anna Vyrubova
Above: Alexandra.
Above: Anna Vyrubova.
Above: The children with their heads shaved.
On top of all this, Alexandra was plagued with anxiety for Nicholas, and Lili Dehn would be a witness to this life-changing time.
Lili Dehn was another one of Alexandra's ladies-in-waiting and, although skeptical, a fellow devotee of Rasputin, becoming a believer when her own young son, Alexander, was dangerously ill, and she too was convinced that the man's prayers had saved the child's life. Alexander was nicknamed "Titi" and was a frequent visitor to Alexandra, who adored babies and even became his godmother. When the boy learned to talk, he nicknamed her "Aunt Baby".
Lili first met Alexandra in July 1907, and fifteen years later, she remembered and described the Empress and their first meeting well and in detail in her memoirs.
"How well I remember that first meeting with one whom I was to love so devotedly, and whose constant friendship has been one of my greatest joys. One summer morning in July, my grandmother and I arrived at the station at Peterhof, where my fiance and a Court carriage were awaiting us. ...
We duly reached the Alexandria Palace, but, as the Empress was still nervous about infection [the youngest daughter Anastasia was ill with diphtheria at this time], it had been arranged that my presentation should take place in the Winter Garden attached to the Palace. ...
At last, advancing slowly through the masses of greenery, came a tall and slender figure. It was the Empress! I looked at her, admiration in my heart and in my eyes. I had never imagined her half so fair. And I shall never forget her beauty as I saw her on that July morning, although the Empress of many sorrows remains with me more as a pathetic and holy memory.
The Empress was dressed entirely in white, with a thin white veil draped round her hat. Her complexion was delicately fair, but when she was excited her cheeks were suffused with a faint rose flush. Her hair was reddish gold, her eyes — those infinitely tragic eyes — were dark blue, and her figure was as supple as a willow wand. I remember that her pearls were magnificent, and that diamond ear-rings flashed coloured fires whenever she moved her head. She wore a simple little ring bearing the emblem of the Swastika*, her favourite symbol, and one which has given rise to so many conjectures, and been quoted triumphantly as proof positive of her leanings towards the occult by those who are ignorant of what it really meant to her.
Directly Princess Golitzin had left us alone, the Empress extended her hand for my grandmother and me to kiss; then, with a sweet smile, and a world of kindness in her eyes, 'Sit down,' she said, and, turning to Captain Dehn: 'When is the marriage to take place?' she enquired.
My nervousness had vanished. I was no longer afraid; in fact it was the Empress who seemed shy, but she was, I found later, always shy with strangers, a trait peculiar to her and to her cousin, the Princess Royal, Duchess of Fife. However, this excessive shyness was not accounted as shyness in Petrograd, it was called German superciliousness and as such it has even been described by some English writers.
The Empress talked to my grandmother for quite a long time, as she was anxious to hear the latest news of the Grand Duchess Elizabeth; she then chatted to my fiance, and I noticed that she spoke Russian with a strong English accent. She afterwards addressed me as the blushing heroine of the morning, and she seemed quite pleased at the interest which I had displayed in the dolls'-house.
'Where are you going to spend your honeymoon?' she said, her blue eyes now mischievous. We told her. 'Ah, I... I do hope that I shall see you again very soon. I am quite alone, I cannot see my husband or my children, I shall be so glad when this tiresome quarantine is over, and we can be together again.'
Our interview lasted well over half an hour. The Empress spoke French to my grandmother and me, she made no attempt to converse in German; then she rose to say good-bye, and we kissed hands. 'I shall see you again very soon,' she repeated. 'Be sure you let me know when you return.'" - from The Real Tsaritsa (1922), written by Lili Dehn
Lili was indeed just as devoted to Alexandra as the other ladies-in-waiting, becoming a sort of confidante for the Empress.
And there is one anecdote that shows Alexandra's distaste for some of the newer fashions of the time:
"... She disapproved strongly of exaggerated fashions, and I shall not easily forget her condemnation when I once came to see her wearing a 'hobble' skirt.
'Do you really like this skirt, Lili?', asked the Empress.
'Well... Madame', I said helplessly, 'c'est la mode.'
'It is no use whatsoever as a skirt', she answered. 'Now, Lili, prove to me that it is comfortable — run, Lili, run, and let me see how fast you can cover the ground in it.'
Needless to say, I never wore a 'hobble' skirt again." - from The Real Tsaritsa (1922), written by Lili Dehn
Above: Alexandra and Lili.
Above: Alexandra with Lili's son Titi.
Now Lili was faithfully supporting Alexandra throughout the hardships of February 1917. The Empress remained as faithful and trusting of the people and the soldiers as ever.
"... The Empress was seized with an idea to talk to the soldiers. I begged to accompany her, in case of any unforeseen treachery, but she refused. 'Why, Lili', she said, reproachfully, 'they're all friends!' ...
... From where I stood, I could see the Empress, wrapped in furs, walking from one man to another, utterly fearless of her safety. ...
When the Empress came back, she was apparently possessed by some inward exaltation. She was radiant; her trust in the 'people' was complete, she was sustained by that, often, alas, broken reed of friendship. 'They are our friends', she kept on repeating, 'they are so devoted to us.'" - from The Real Tsaritsa (1922), written by Lili Dehn
And then, on March 2, Alexandra received horrifying and shocking news: Nicholas had been forced to abdicate. In other words, he was no longer the Tsar. He had no more power, and the future was frighteningly uncertain.
Alexandra was crushed by the news. The following is her immediate reaction to it, as Lili remembered:
"... The door opened and the Empress appeared. Her face was distorted with agony, her eyes were full of tears. She tottered rather than walked, and I rushed forward and supported her until she reached the writing table between the windows. She leant heavily against it, and taking my hand in hers she said brokenly, 'Abdiqué!' I could hardly believe my ears. I waited for her next words. They were scarcely audible. At last: 'Poor darling — alone there and suffering — My God! What he must have suffered!'" - from The Real Tsaritsa (1922), written by Lili Dehn
Above: Nicholas and Alexandra.
But after her initial breakdown, Alexandra regained her composure and went about taking care of things and writing telegrams and letters to Nicholas, although her anxiety remained.
"There was still no news of the Emperor, although the Empress constantly telegraphed. It was reported that his train was returning to G.H.Q. [General Headquarters], and at the time many people thought that if it reached there the troops would have followed the Emperor. We phoned to the hospitals for news, and the Empress received a good many people. To all these she was her usual calm, dignified self. When I marvelled at her fortitude, she replied, 'Lili, I must not give way. I keep on saying, 'I must not' — it helps me.'" - from The Real Tsaritsa (1922), written by Lili Dehn
"That night the Empress and I sat up very late: she had paid her usual visit to the Grand Duchesses, when she had tried outwardly to appear calm. But alone with me it was a different matter.
The Empress told me that the Emperor had abdicated in favour of the Tsarevitch. 'Now he'll be taken from me', she cried. 'The people are to assume the Regency. What shall I do?' She started at every footfall; she trembled at the mere sound of a voice... One idea obsessed her — someone might come at any moment to take away her son!" - from The Real Tsaritsa (1922), written by Lili Dehn
Alexandra also burned some of her letters, fearing that they might fall into the wrong hands.
"A large oaken coffer had been placed on the table; this coffer contained all the letters written to the Empress by the Emperor during her engagement and married life. I dared not look at her as she sat gazing at the letters which meant so much. I think she reread some of them, for at intervals I heard stifled sobs, and those sighs which have their origin in the heart's bitterness. Many of the letters had been written before she was a wife and a mother. They were the love-letters of a man who had loved her wholly and devotedly, who still loved her with the affection of that bygone Springtime. Little dreamt either the lover or the beloved that these letters were afterwards destined to be wet with tears.
The Empress rose from her chair, and, still weeping, laid her love-letters one by one on the heart of the fire. The writing glowed for an instant, as if desirous of burning itself into her very soul, then it faded, and the paper became a little heap of white ash.
Alas for Youth! Alas for Love!" - from The Real Tsaritsa (1922), written by Lili Dehn
One of Alexandra's letters to Nicholas written the day of the abdication, her faith in the people still unshaken:
"Oh, how my heart bleeds for you. I am going mad not knowing anything at all other than the vilest rumors which are enough to drive one insane. I would like to know whether the two young men I sent with my letters ever reached you today? ... Oh for the love of God, at least, a line. An officer's wife will give you this letter. I know nothing about you, only heart-rending rumors. You are doubtless hearing the same.
My heart is breaking with pain for you and your total isolation. I shall only write a little, since I do not know whether my letter will get to you, whether they will search her en route — so crazy have people become. This evening Marie & I are making a tour of the cellar to see the men — very heartening. ...
My love, my love! We had marvelous prayers & acathistus at the ikon of the Mother of God, which was brought into the green bedroom, where they were all lying — very encouraging. Everything shall — must — be alright. I shall not waiver in my faith. Oh, my dear angel, I love you so much, I am with you always, night & day. I realize what your poor heart is experiencing now. God shall have mercy & send you strength & wisdom. He shall help & reward you for these mad sufferings. ... We shall all fight for you, we are all in our places. ... One could go mad, but we shall not for we believe in a bright future."
"Beloved Soul of my Soul, my own Wee One, Sweet Angel, oh, me loves you so — always together, night and day — I feel what you are going through — and your poor heart. God have mercy, give you strength and wisdom. He won't forsake you. He will help, recompense this mad suffering and separation at such a time when one needs being together. Yesterday came a packet for you with maps from Headquarters, I have them safe.
Ah, whenever shall we be together again — utterly cut off in every way. Yet, their illness perhaps is a saving, one can't move him [Alexei]. Don't fear for him, we'll all fight for our Sunshine.
Such sunny weather, no clouds — that means, trust and hope — all is pitch black around, but God is above all; we know not His way — nor how He will help — but he will harken unto all prayers. ...
I fully understand your action — my own hero! I know you could not sign against what you swore at your coronation — we know each other through and through and need no words — and, as I live, we shall see you back upon your throne, brought back by your people and troops to the glory of your reign.
You have saved your Son's reign and the country and your saintly purity and (Judas Ruzsky) you will be crowned by God on this earth, in your country. I hold you tight, tight in my arms and will never let them touch your shining soul. I kiss, kiss, kiss and bless you and always understand you,
Wify." - written March 3, 1917
Alexandra was fortunate enough to get a phone call from Nicholas, which was undoubtedly very emotional.
"After lunch, when the Empress and I were sitting in the mauve boudoir, we were startled by the sudden entrance of Volkoff. He was very agitated, his face was pale, he trembled in every limb. Without waiting to be addressed by the Empress, and utterly oblivious of etiquette, he cried: 'The Emperor is on the phone!'
The Empress looked at Volkoff as if he had taken leave of his senses; then, as she realised the full import of his words, she jumped up with the alacrity of a girl of sixteen, and rushed out of the room.
I waited anxiously. I kept on praying that a little happiness might yet be hers... perhaps, for all we knew, the danger had passed.
When the Empress returned, her face was like an April day — all smiles and tears!
'Lili,' she exclaimed, 'imagine what were his first words... he said: 'I thought that I might have come back to you, but they keep me here. However, I'll be with you all very soon.'' The Emperor added that the Dowager Empress was coming from Kieff to be with him, and that he had only received the Empress's wires after the abdication. 'The poor one!' said the Empress. 'How much he has suffered! how pleased he'll be to see his mother!'" - from The Real Tsaritsa (1922), written by Lili Dehn
Above: Nicholas and Alexandra.
Alexandra took it upon herself to tell her children the sad news.
"At last the Empress decided to tell the Grand Duchesses about the abdication... she could not bear this painful task to devolve upon her husband. She therefore made her way to their apartments, and was with them alone for a long time. Anastasie seemed to sense what had happened... and after her mother had left them she looked at me, and said, very quietly, 'Mamma has told us everything, Lili; but, as Papa is coming, nothing else matters. However, you have known what was going on... how could you keep it from us? Why, you're usually so nervous, how is it you are so calm?'
I kissed her, and said that I owed all my fortitude to her mother. She had set such an example of courage that it was impossible for me not to follow it.
When the Empress broke the news to the Tsarevitch, the following conversation took place:
'Shall I never go to G.H.Q. again with Papa?', asked the child,
'No, my darling — never again,' replied his mother.
'Shan't I see my regiments and my soldiers?', he said anxiously.
'No... I fear not.'
'Oh dear! And the yacht, and all my friends on board — shall we never go yachting any more?' He was almost on the verge of tears.
"No... we shall never see the 'Standart.'... It doesn't belong to us now.'" - from The Real Tsaritsa (1922), written by Lili Dehn
That night, Alexandra allowed an equally exhausted Lili to sleep in the beautiful Mauve Boudoir for the night, and as it was right next to her bedroom, she even offered to keep the bedroom door open to help her feel less lonely.
"It was a bright moonlight night. Outside, the snow lay like a pall on the frost-bound Park. The cold was intense. The silence of the great Palace was occasionally broken by snatches of drunken songs and the coarse laughter of the soldiers. The intermittent firing of guns was audible. It was a night of beauty, defiled by the base passions of men.
I went quietly downstairs to the mauve boudoir. The Empress was waiting for me, and as she stood there I thought how girlish she looked. Her long hair fell in a heavy plait down her back, and she wore a loose silk dressing-gown over her night clothes. She was very pale, very ethereal, but unutterably pathetic.
As I stumbled into the boudoir with my draperies of sheets and blankets she smiled — a little affectionate, mocking smile, which deepened as she watched me trying to arrange my bed on the couch. She came forward, still smiling. 'Oh, Lili... you Russian ladies don't know how to be useful. When I was a girl, my grandmother, Queen Victoria, showed me how to make a bed. I'll teach you.' And she deftly arranged the bedding, saying, as she did so: 'Take care not to lie on this broken spring. I always had an idea something was amiss with this couch.'
The bed-making 'À la mode de Windsor' was soon finished, and the Empress kissed me affectionately and bade me good night. 'I'll leave my bedroom door open,' she said; 'then you won't feel lonely —'
Sleep for me was impossible. I lay on the mauve couch — her couch — unable to realise that this strange happening was a part of ordinary life. Surely I must be dreaming; surely I should suddenly awake in my own bed at Petrograd, and find that the Revolution and its attendant horrors were only a nightmare! But the sound of coughing in the Empress's bedroom told me that, alas it was no dream... She was moving about, unable, like myself, to sleep. The light above the sacred ikon made a luminous pathway between the bedroom and the boudoir, and presently the Empress came back to me, carrying an eiderdown. 'It's bitterly cold,' she said. 'I want you to be comfortable, Lili, so I've brought you another quilt.' She tucked the quilt well round my shoulders, regardless of my protestations, and again bade me good night.
The mauve boudoir was flooded with moonlight, which fell directly on the portrait of the Empress's mother, and on the picture of the Annunciation. Both seemed alive... The sad eyes of the dead woman watched the gradually unfolding tragedy of her daughter's life, whilst the radiant Virgin, overcome with divine condecension, welcomed the angel who hailed her as blessed among women.
Masses of lilac were arranged in front of the tall windows. It was customary for a fresh supply of lilac for the mauve boudoir to be sent daily to Tsarkoe Selo from the south of France, owing to the troublous times, no flowers had reached the Palace for a couple of days. Just before dawn, the dying lilac seemed to expire a last breath of perfume... the boudoir was suddenly redolent of the perfume of Spring... tears filled my eyes. The poignant sweetness hurt me — winter was around us, and within our hearts. Should we ever know the joys of blue skies, and the glory of a world new-born?" - from The Real Tsaritsa (1922), written by Lili Dehn
The Imperial Couple had an emotional reunion upon Nicholas's return:
"The Empress told me ... that the Emperor lost his self-control when he was alone with her in the mauve boudoir; he wept bitterly. It was excessively difficult for her to console him, and to assure him that the husband and father was of more value in her eyes than the Emperor whose throne she had shared." - from The Real Tsaritsa (1922), written by Lili Dehn
The family was put under house arrest in the Alexander Palace. Their freedoms were restricted, and they had to part with some of their friends, but they were still allowed to keep most of their daily routine, and they were not prohibited from going to Confession on the evening of Good Friday. One of the members of the State Duma (the government parliament that Nicholas reluctantly founded in 1906 in response to the events of Bloody Sunday), Alexander Kerensky, became their main jailer. As time went on, he found himself feeling sympathetic toward the family, and at one point it was hoped that they might be taken to Livadia. The Imperial rule of the absolute monarchy was replaced with the rule of the Provisional Government, which itself was abolished eight months later and replaced with the Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic when the radical Bolsheviks came to power after the October Revolution. Tsar Nicholas II was now simply known as Colonel (later Citizen) Nicholas Romanov. But, despite the emotional strain of his abdication, he was relieved to finally be unburdened of the duties he had had to bear for the past 23 years, and now he would be able to spend much more time with his beloved wife and children. And he seemed to be coping well and even tried to make light of the situation for his family's sake.
Alexandra, on the other hand, found it much more difficult to cope with the changes and restrictions; and she was indignant to see her husband being treated so harshly.
"Wednesday, April 4th - ... The whole family was collected in the apartment of the Grand-Duchesses. Kerensky entered and introduced himself, saying:
'I am the Procurator-General, Kerensky.'
Then he shook hands all round. Turning to the Tsarina, he said:
'The Queen of England asks for news of the ex-Tsarina.'
Her Majesty blushed violently. It was the first time that she had been addressed as ex-Tsarina. She answered that she was fairly well, but that her heart was troubling her as usual."
"Sunday, April 8th - After Mass, Kerensky announced to the Tsar that he was obliged to separate him from the Tsarina — that he will have to live apart, only seeing Her Majesty at meals, and that on condition that only Russian is spoken. Tea, too, may be taken together, but in the presence of an officer, as no servants are present.
A little later the Tsarina came up to me in a great state of agitation, and said:
'To think of his acting like this to the Tsar, playing this low trick after his self-sacrifice and his abdication to avoid civil war; how mean, how despicable! The Tsar would not have had a single Russian shed his blood for him. He has always been ready to renounce all when he knew that it was for the good of Russia.'
A moment later she went on:
'Yes, this horrible bitterness must be endured too.'" - from Thirteen Years at the Russian Court (1921), written by Pierre Gilliard
Above: Alexander Kerensky.
Above: Alexandra.
"The Empress, like the Emperor, never showed any fears she may have felt. She was heroic, as she had been through all the early days of the Revolution when she and her children were in imminent danger. Her fortitude never deserted her, and she would cheer up any of those in the Household whom she saw to be depressed and anxious. She had put those she loved into the hands of the Supreme Power, feeling the hopelessness of human help, and in her constant prayers found the wonderful serenity and courage that she kept to the end." - from The Life and Tragedy of Alexandra Feodorovna (1928), written by Baroness Sophie Buxhoeveden
"Both the Emperor and Empress anxiously followed the trend of political events. They read the papers, no matter how painful they were to them personally, and the impression he gained of the helplessness and indecision of the Government filled the Emperor with anxiety. He dreaded the effect of the disorganization and demoralization of the army on the prosecution of the war. Taking the Palace Guard as specimens of what the army had become, its condition was the greatest anxiety to them both. The Emperor realised the mistaken judgements on his own part that had lead in some measure to the cataclysm. For some time, however, the Empress continued to believe that all the harm had arisen from revolutionary propaganda, and from the fact that the Duma had not supported the Government and had allowed sedition to work undisturbed. She was constantly thinking about these things, turning events over in her mind; and by degrees I think she began to see that she and the Emperor had made many political mistakes, and given their confidence to people who had mismanaged affairs. This thought was only an additional source of distress to her, and she was never completely disillusioned about the Ministers who had given such fatal advice. For many years she had believed that bad luck pursued the Emperor and herself. For Alexei Nicholaevich, on the other hand, she had the greatest hopes. She was ready to bear everything in order that he might come to his inheritance. His reign should be glorious; he should institute the reforms for which his parents would slowly prepare. She believed, with a fatalism that she shared with the Emperor, that they were the scapegoats for all the errors committed in previous reigns."
"The Empress longed for church services, and it was a comfort to her when in Holy Week they were allowed in the Palace chapel." - from The Life and Tragedy of Alexandra Feodorovna (1928), written by Baroness Sophie Buxhoeveden
One day, Lili Dehn was allowed a five-minute phone call, and she was informed that her now eight year old son Titi was ill. A few days later, she was dismissed from Alexandra's service.
"I turned quickly to face the person who dared intrude upon the privacy of the apartments occupied by the Imperial Family... Was it some fresh assumption of power on the part of the Revolutionaries?
But my visitor was no emissary of the Revolution — the slender figure standing in the doorway was that of the Empress. She looked more than usually fragile... she breathed with difficulty, her face was pale with fatigue, and, when I remembered the arduous ascent of the stairs, I was terrified lest a heart attack would ensue.
'Madame, Madame,' I cried, 'is anything amiss? Are you in danger?'
'Hush, Lili,' said the Empress. 'The Emperor and I are quite safe. But I couldn't rest without coming to see you. I know all about Titi, I quite realise what you feel.' She took me in her arms just as a tender mother might have done, and she soothed me and caressed me. 'My poor, dear child,' she said. 'Only God can help you. Trust in Him, as I do, Lili.'
We mingled our tears, and she stayed with me for some considerable time. It was a strange scene, but I wish that those who revile the memory of the Empress could have seen her then, and experienced the pity, love and understanding which were so essentially her prerogatives. She strengthened and consoled me as no other could have done, and her last words of comfort before she left me were: 'Perhaps they'll let us bring Titi from Petrograd to the Red Cross Hospital opposite the Palace, then you could always see him through one of the windows.'" - from The Real Tsaritsa (1922), written by Lili Dehn
Above: Lili and Titi. Photo courtesy of Ilya Grigoryev on Flickr.
Among the new changes was that, because the other tutors had left after the family's house arrest began, Nicholas and Alexandra took over some of the teaching for Maria, Anastasia and Alexei.
"Sunday, April 29th - In the evening a long conversation with Their Majesties on the subject of Aleksey Nicolaievich's lessons. We must find a way out since we have no longer any tutors. The Tsar is going to make himself responsible for History and Geography, the Tsarina will take charge of his religious instruction. The other subjects will be shared between Baroness Buxhoeveden (English), Mlle. Schneider (Arithmetic), Dr. Botkin (Russian) and myself." - from Thirteen Years at the Russian Court (1921), written by Pierre Gilliard
And so life went on in this way for the next four months. Despite the restrictions and regulations, Alexandra was still able to write letters to her ladies, writing of her characteristic and deep religiosity, spirituality, patriotism and her accepting resignation in the face of suffering, her hopes, and how tormented she felt by the current situation.
"Oh! how pleased I am that they have appointed a new Commander-in-Chief of the Baltic Fleet. I hope to God it will be better now. He is a real sailor and I hope he will succeed in restoring order now. The heart of a soldier's daughter and wife is suffering terribly, in seeing what is going on. Cannot get accustomed and do not wish to. They were such hero soldiers, and how they were spoilt just at a time when it was necessary to start to get rid of the enemy. It will take many years to fight yet. You will understand how he [Nicholas] must suffer. He reads [newspapers], and tears stand in his eyes, but I believe they will yet win [the war]. We have so many friends in the fighting line. I can imagine how terribly they must suffer. Of course nobody can write. Yesterday we saw quite new people — such a difference. It was at last quite a pleasure to see them. Am writing again what I ought not to, but this does not go by post, or you would not have received it. Of course, I have nothing of interest to write. To-day is a prayer at 12 o'clock. Anastasia is to-day 16 years old. How the time flies...
I am remembering the past. It is necessary to look more calmly on everything. What is to be done? Once He sent us such trials, evidently He thinks we are sufficiently prepared for it. It is a sort of examination — it is necessary to prove that we did not go through it in vain. One can find in everything something good and useful — whatever sufferings we go through — let it be, He will give us force and patience and will not leave us. He is merciful. It is only necessary to bow to His wish without murmur and await — there on the other side He is preparing to all who love Him undescribable joy. You are young and so are our children — how many I have besides my own — you will see better times yet here. I believe strongly the bad will pass and there will be clear and cloudless sky. But the thunder-storm has not passed and therefore it is stifling — but I know it will be better afterwards. One must have only a little patience — and is it really so difficult? For every day that passes quietly I thank God.
Three months have passed now! The people were promised that they would have more food and fuel, but all has become worse and more expensive. They have deceived everybody — I am so sorry for them. How many we have helped, but now it is all finished...
It is terrible to think about it! How many people depended on us. But now? But one does not speak about such things, but I am writing about it because I feel so sadly about those who will have it more difficult now to live. But it is God's will! My dear own, I must finish now. Am kissing you and Titi most tenderly. Christ be with you. ...
Yours loving,
AUNT BABY." - from Alexandra's letter to Lili Dehn, written June 5/18, 1917
"My DEAREST,
Heartiest thanks for letter of the 21st. Cannot write, he [Colonel Kobilinsky] has no time to read, the poor man is so busy all the time that he is often without lunch and dinner. Am pleased to have made his acquaintance. E.S. [Dr. Botkin] has seen you. I am so pleased that you know all about us.
Will remember your last year's trip. Do you remember? Have not been quite well lately — often had head and heartache. My heart was enlarged. Am sleeping very badly. But never mind — God gives me His strength. Have brought the ikon of Snameni. How thankful I am that this was possible, at this day dear to me. I prayed hard for you and remembered how we used to pray together before it. How Tina [Anna Vyrubova] will now suffer — without anybody in the town and her sister in Finland and her friends going so far away — how much people have to suffer — the path of life is so hard. Please write to A.W. [Colonel Siroboyarski] and send him heartfelt greetings and blessings — kiss you most tenderly and the darling Titi. God preserve you and the Holy Mother. Always yours,
AUNT BABY.
Kindest regards. I remember — Faith, Hope, Love — that is all, all in life. You understand my feelings. Be brave. Thank you most heartily. All touched by your little ikons — will just put it on. Ask Rita [Khitrovo] to write to the letter of your countryman. ...
Thank you for your dear letters — we understand each other. It is hard to be separated. Greetings to R. Gor. I have learnt only now how you spent the first days [in prison]. It is terrible, but God will reward. Am pleased that your husband has written." - from Alexandra's letter to Lili Dehn, written July 30/August 12, 1917 (Alexei's 13th birthday)
Above: Alexandra in captivity.
At 6 a.m. on the morning of August 14, 1917, the Romanovs left the Alexander Palace, their beloved home for the past twelve years, for what would be the last time, at the order of the Council of Ministers. Their ultimate destination was unknown to them, and they were only allowed to take some of their possessions. They boarded a train and began to head eastward to Siberia, that vast, barren, Asiatic part of Russia which for centuries had borne the reputation of being a dumping ground for exiles, political prisoners, dissidents and undesirables. The last generation of a dynasty which had once banished its enemies here were now being banished themselves.
On the evening of August 17, they arrived at the railway station at Tyumen, and from there set off toward the town of Tobolsk, in the Ural Mountains, and then they boarded the Rus steamer that would months later take four of the children to Ekaterinburg. The next day, they passed by the village of Pokrovskoye, Rasputin's birthplace and home, and from where the Romanovs stood on the deck, they could see his house — exactly as he had predicted, and so they were not surprised by it — especially not Alexandra. The next day they arrived in Tobolsk and on the 26th they were taken to stay at the Governor's Mansion.
Above: The Governor's Mansion in Tobolsk.
Alexandra and her family occupied the entire first floor of the house, and not much changed. Pierre Gilliard and Sophie Buxhoeveden described life in Tobolsk:
"At first the conditions of our captivity were very similar to those at Tsarskoe-Selo. We had all that was necessary. The Tsar and children nevertheless suffered from lack of space. Their exercise was confined to a very small kitchen garden and a yard which had been formed by enclosing with a fence a broad and little-frequented street running along the south-east side of the house in which they lived. It was very little, and they were exposed to the observation of the soldiers, whose barracks overlooked the whole of the space reserved for us. ...
One of the greatest privations during our captivity at Tobolsk was the almost complete absence of news. Letters only reached us very irregularly and after long delay. As for newspapers, we were reduced to a nasty local rag printed on packing paper, which only gave us telegrams several days old and generally distorted and cut down." - from Thirteen Years at the Russian Court (1921), written by Pierre Gilliard
"The house in which the Emperor lived was fairly large and not too uncomfortable, but was bitterly cold. The temperature outside was only a few degrees warmer than in the Polar Circle, and was only made bearable by the absolute stillness of the air. The Imperial Family were allowed to keep their own servants and cooks, but had to be very economical, as the small supply of money they had brought with them was dwindling. The Bolshevik Government had given the order that they were to be put on soldiers' rations, so they paid for their own fare, which was of the plainest. When their clothes wore out they could not be replaced, as the shops gradually sold all their reserves and no new stocks came in. If sometimes new material appeared on the market it was at a fancy price. As the winter went on the difficulties daily increased. The worst feature was the absence of any reliable news from the world outside. ... Though we got letters now and then, these had to be so carefully worded that they did not say much. ... I saw the Emperor and his children daily from my window, which being on the first floor allowed me to overlook their whole little enclosure. They made paths and shovelled away the snow for exercise." - from Left Behind (1929), written by Baroness Sophie Buxhoeveden
"The great drawback of the house was its extreme chilliness. ... the whole family suffered terribly. The temperature in the rooms was often not more than +7 C. Even the Empress felt half-frozen, and her fingers were so stiff with chilblains that she could not wear her rings, and could scarcely move her knitting-needles." - from The Life and Tragedy of Alexandra Feodorovna (1928), written by Baroness Sophie Buxhoeveden
Sophie Buxhoeveden saw Alexandra again in Tobolsk, although they were kept in separate houses and were not allowed to visit.
"As I was not allowed to visit the Empress, Her Majesty opened the window of her room at a fixed hour daily and stood for a few minutes before it, wrapped in her coat. I did the same in the opposite house. Sometimes she would speak as if to someone in the room behind, and, the street being narrow, I heard the sound of her voice in the still air. Unfortunately, to my great disappointment, I was only able to catch a word here and there, and of course could not answer, as the sentries would have noticed this; but at least I saw her. The Empress had got woefully thin, her beautiful features were pinched, and her eyes had a strained look. She sent me a lock of her hair. I was shocked to see that it had turned quite grey." - from Left Behind (1929), written by Baroness Sophie Buxhoeveden
The family continued to maintain their precious religious routine, but not without some changes which saddened and distressed them.
"The religious services were at first held in the house, in the large hall on the first floor. The priest of the Church of the Annunciation, his deacon, and four nuns from the Ivanovsky Convent, were authorized to attend the services. As, however, there was no consecrated altar, it was impossible to celebrate Mass. This was a great privation for the family.
Finally, on September 21st, the festival of the Nativity of the Virgin, the prisoners were allowed for the first time to go to the church. This pleased them greatly, but the consolation was only to be repeated very rarely." - from Thirteen Years at the Russian Court (1921), written by Pierre Gilliard
"The Empress's deep religious faith had come to her aid and helped her to beat her trials with fortitude and be hopeful to the end. At Tobolsk she gained that unearthly calm which sometimes comes to those who feel the Great Shadow before them, without, perhaps, entirely realising its nearness. She had fought so hard against her human weaknesses that she had attained to the real Christian humility and trained her proud spirit not to rebel. During those long months of introspection she learned to look, in all sincerity, at trials and hardships as a gift of God, a fit preparation for the future blessed life. She had always seen the Life Eternal as her ultimate goal, and now that her links with earthly things were slackening, she saw the gates of Heaven very near." - from The Life and Tragedy of Alexandra Feodorovna (1928), written by Baroness Sophie Buxhoeveden
Above: The chapel room at Tobolsk.
The rest of the family's routine under house arrest continued unchanged.
"The lessons began at nine o'clock, and were broken off from eleven to twelve for a walk ... At one o'clock we all assembled for lunch. The Tsarina, when she was not well, often took her meals in her own apartments with Aleksey Nicolaievich. ...
After tea, lessons were resumed until about half-past six. Dinner was an hour later, after which we went up to the large hall for coffee. We had all been invited to spend the evening with the family, and this soon became a regular habit for several of us. Games were organized and ingenuity shown in finding amusements to break the monotony of our captivity. When it began to get very cold, and the large hall became impossible, we took refuge in the adjoining room, which was Their Majesties' drawing-room, the only really comfortable apartment in the house. The Tsar would often read aloud while the Grand-Duchesses did needlework or played with us. The Tsarina regularly played one or two games of bezique with General Tatichtchev and then took up her work or reclined in her armchair. In this atmosphere of family peace we passed the long winter evenings, lost in the immensity of distant Siberia." - from Thirteen Years at the Russian Court (1921), written by Pierre Gilliard
In the meantime, Alexandra continued to write letters to the friends who had been left behind and continued pouring out her feelings about everything.
"My darling: We are thinking constantly of you and of all the suffering you have had to endure. God help you in the future. How are your weak heart and your poor legs? We hope to go to Communion as usual if we are to be allowed. Lessons have begun again with Mr. Gibbs also. So glad, at last. We are all well. It is beautifully sunny. I sit behind this wall in the yard and work. Greetings to the doctors, the priests, and the nurses in your hospital. I kiss you and pray God to keep you." - Alexandra's message to Anna Vyrubova, dated October 14, 1917
"My darling: I was inexpressibly glad to get news of you, and I kiss you fondly for all your loving thoughts of me. There are no real barriers between souls who really understand each other, but still it is natural for hearts to crave expressions of love. I wrote to you on the 14th, and now will try to send this to the same address, but I don't know how long you will remain. I wonder if you got my letter. I had hoped so much that you would see Zina and find comfort in her friendship. The expression in the eyes in the photograph which was brought me has impressed me deeply, and I wept freely as I looked at it. Ah, God! Still He is merciful and will never forget His own. Great will be their reward in Heaven. The more we suffer here the fairer it will be on that other shore where so many dear ones await us. How are our Friend's dear children, how well does the boy learn, and where do they live?
Dear little Owl, I kiss you tenderly. You are in all our hearts. We pray for you and often talk of you. In God's hands lie all things. From this great distance it is a difficult to help and comfort a loved one who is suffering. We hope tomorrow to go to Holy Communion, but neither today nor yesterday were allowed to go to church. We have had services at home, last night prayers for the dead, tonight confession and evening prayer. You are ever with us, a kindred soul. How many things I long to say and to ask of you. It is strange to be in this house and to sleep in the dark bedroom. I have heard nothing from Lili D. for some time. We are all well. I have been suffering from neuralgia in the head but now Dr. Kostritzky has come to treat me. We have spoken often of you.
They say that life in the Crimea is dreadful now. Still Olga A. is happy with her little Tichon whom she is nursing herself. They have no servants so she and N.A. look after everything. Dobiasgin, we hear, has died of cancer. The needlework you sent me was the only token we have received from any of our friends. Where is poor Catherine? We suffer so for all, and we pray for all of you. That is all we can do. The weather is bad these last few days, and I never venture out because my heart is not behaving very well. I get a great deal of consolation reading the Bible. I often read it to the children, and I am sure that you also read it. Write soon again. We all kiss and bless you. May God sustain and keep you. My heart is full, but words are feeble things.
Yours, A.
The jacket warms and comforts me. I am surrounded by your dear presents, the blue dressing gown, red slippers, silver tray and spoon, the stick, etc. The ikon I wear. I do not remember the people you are living with now. Did you see the regimental priest from Peterhof? Ask the prayers of O. Hovari for us. God be with you. Love to your parents. Madeleine and Anna are still in St. Petersburg." - Alexandra's letter to Anna Vyrubova, written October 21, 1917
"Yesterday I received your letter dated November 6, and I thank you for it from my heart. It was such a joy to hear from you and to think how merciful is God to have given you this compensation. Your life in town must be more than unpleasant, confined in stuffy rooms, steep stairs to climb, no lovely walks possible, horrors all around you. Poor child! You know that in heart and soul I am near you, sharing all your pain and sorrow and praying for you fervently. Every day I read in the book you gave me seven years ago, 'Day by Day,' and like it very much. There are lovely passages in it.
The weather is very changeable, frost, sunshine, then darkness and thawings. Desperately dull for those who enjoy long walks and are deprived of them. Lessons continue as usual. Mother and daughters work and knit a great deal, making Christmas presents. How time flies! In two weeks more it will be eight months since I saw you last. And you, my little one, so far away in loneliness and sorrow. But you know where to seek consolation and strength, and you know that God will never forsake you. His love is over all.
On the whole we are all well, since I do not count chills and colds. Alexei's knee and arm swell from time to time, but happily without any pain. My heart has not been behaving very well. I read much, and live in the past, which is so full of rich memories. I have full trust in a brighter future. He will never forsake those who love and trust in His infinite mercy, and when we least expect it He will send help, and will save our unhappy country. Patience, faith and truth.
How did you like the two little colored cards? I have not heard from Lili Dehn for three months. It is hard to be cut off from all one's dear friends. I am so glad that your old servant and Nastia are with you, but where are the maids, Zina and Mainia? So Father Makari has left us. But he is really nearer than he was before.
Our thoughts will be very close together next month. You remember our last journey and what followed. After this anniversary it seems to me that God will show mercy. Kiss Praskovia and the children for me. The maid Liza and the girls have not come yet. All of us send tenderest love, blessings kisses. God bless you, dearest friend. Keep a brave heart.
P.S. I should like to send you a little food, some macaroni for instance." - Alexandra's letter to Anna Vyrubova, written November 24, 1917
"My DEAREST,
I am for such a very, very long time without news of you, and I feel sad. Have you received my post card of the 28th October?
Everybody is well — my heart is not up to much, fit at times, but on the whole it is better.
I live very quietly and seldom go out as it is too difficult to breathe in frozen air.
Lessons as usual. 'T' is as always. Zina has been to see her and O. V., who is very sad, she is always praying. Father Makari passed on on the 19th July.
Rumours have it that Gariainoff has married, but we do not know whether it is true. Aunt Baby drew this herself. How is Titi? Granny — I want to know such, such a lot. How is Count Keller? Have you seen him in Kharkoff? The present events are so awful for words, shameful and almost funny, but God is merciful, darling. Soon we shall be thinking of those days you passed with us. My God, what remembrances!
Matresha has married, they are now all in P., but the brother is at the front.
I read a lot, embroider and draw (I have to do it all with my spectacles, am so old). I think of you often and always pray fervently for you and love you tenderly.
I kiss you very, very much.
May Christ protect you.
Your countryman is at Vladivostok and Nicholas Jakovlevitch (one of the wounded) is, I think, also in Siberia. I am so lonely without you all. Where is your husband and his friends? We are still expecting Ysa and the others.
I kiss Titi tenderly. Write, I am waiting so, Verveine (toilet water) always reminds me of you." - from Alexandra's letter to Lili Dehn, written November 29, 1917
"My darling: In thoughts and prayers we are always together. Still it is hard not to see each other. My heart is so full, there is so much I would like to know, so many thoughts I should like to share with you. But we hope the time will come when we shall see each other, and all the old friends who now are scattered in different parts of the world.
I am sorry you have had a misunderstanding with one of your best friends. That should never happen. This is no time to judge one's friends, every one of us being on such an unnatural strain.
We here live far from everybody and life is quiet, but we read of all the horrors that are going on. But I shall not speak of them. You live in their very center, and that is enough for you to bear. Petty troubles surround us. The maids have been in Tobolsk four days and yet they are not allowed to come to our house, although it was promised that they should. How pitiful this everlasting suspicion and fear. I suppose it will be the same with Isa. Nobody is now allowed to approach us, but I hope they will soon see how stupid and brutal and unfair it is to keep them waiting.
It is very cold — 24 degrees of frost. We shiver in the rooms, and there is always a strong draught from the windows. Your pretty jacket is so useful. We all have chilblains on our fingers. (You remember how you suffered from them in your cold little house?) I am writing this while resting before dinner. Little Jimmy lies near me while his mistress plays the piano. On the 6th Alexei, Marie and Gilik acted a little play for us. The others are committing to memory scenes from French plays. Excellent distraction, and good for the memory. The evenings we spend together. He reads aloud to us, and I embroider. I am very busy all day preparing Christmas presents; painting ribbons for book markers, and cards as of old. I also have lessons with the children, as the priest is no longer permitted to come. But I like these lessons very much. So many things come back to my mind. I am reading with pleasure the works of Archbishop Wissky. I did not have them formerly. Lately also I have read Tichon Zadonsky. In spite of everything I was able to bring some of my favorite books with me. Do you read the Bible I gave you? Do you know that there is a much more complete edition? I have given one to the children, and I have managed to get a large one for myself. There are some beautiful passages in the Proverbs of Solomon. The Psalms also give me peace. Dear, we understand each other. I thank you for everything, and in memory I live over again our happy past.
One of our former wounded men, Pr. Eristoff, is in hospital again. I don't know the reason. If possible give hearty greetings to him from us all. Give sincere thanks and greetings to Madame S. and her husband. God bless and comfort him.
Where are Serge and his wife? I received a touching letter from Zina. I know the past is all done with, but I thank God for all that we have received, and I live in the memory that cannot be taken from me. Still I worry often for my dearly loved, far distant, foolish little friend. I am glad that you have resumed your maiden name. Give greetings to Emma F., the English Red Cross nurse, and to your dear parents.
On the 6th we had service at home, not being allowed to go to church on account of some kind of a disturbance. I have not been out in the fresh air for four weeks. I can't go out in such bitter weather because of my heart. Nevertheless church draws me almost irresistibly.
I showed your photographs to Valia and Gilik. I did not want to show them to the ladies, your face is too dear and precious to me. Nastinka is too distant. She is very sweet, but she does not seem near to me. All my dear ones are far away. But I am surrounded by their photographs and gifts, jackets, dressing gowns, slippers, silver dish, spoons, and ikons. How I would like to send you something, but I fear it would get lost. I kiss you tenderly, love, and bless you. We all kiss you. He was touched by your letter of congratulation. We pray for you, and we think of you, not always without tears. Yours." - Alexandra's letter to Anna Vyrubova, written December 8, 1917
"This is the feast day of the Virgin of Unexpected Joy. I always read the day's service, and I know that you, dear, do the same. It is the anniversary of our last journey together, to Saratov. Do you remember how lovely it was? The old holy woman is dead now, but I keep her ikon always near me.... Yesterday it was nine months since we were taken into captivity, and more than four months since we came here. Which of the English nurses was it who wrote to me? I am surprised to hear that Nini Voyeikoff and her family did not receive the ikons I sent them before leaving. Give kind regards to your faithful old servant and Nastia. This year I cannot give them anything for their Christmas tree. How sad. My dear, you are splendid. Christ be with you. Give my thanks to Fathers John and Dosifei for their remembrance, I am writing this morning in bed. Jimmy is sleeping nearly under my nose and interfering with my writing. Ortipo lies at my feet and keeps them warm.
Fancy that the kind Kommissar Makarov sent me my pictures two months ago, St. Simeon Nesterovs, the little Annunciation from the bedroom, four small prints from my mauve room, five pastels of Kaulbach, four enlarged snapshots from Livadia: Tatiana and me, Alexei as sentry, Alexander III, Nicholas I and also a small carpet from my bedroom.
My wicker lounge chair too is standing in my bedroom now. Among the other cushions is the one filled with rose leaves given me by the Tartar women. It has been with me all the way. At the last moment of the night at Tsarskoe I took it with me, slept on it on the train and on the boat, and the lovely smell refreshed me. Have you had any news of Gaharn? Write to him and give him my regards. One of our former wounded, Sirobojarski, has visited him. Then are 22 degrees of frost today, but bright sunshine. Do you remember the sister of mercy K. M. Bitner? She is giving the children lessons. What luck! The days fly. It is Saturday again, and we shall have evening service at nine. A corner of the drawing room has been arranged with our ikons and lamps. It is homelike — but not like church. I got so used to going almost daily for three years to the church of Znamenia before going on to the hospitals at Tsarskoe.
I advise you to write to M. Gilliard. (Now I have refilled my fountain pen.) Would you like some macaroni and coffee? I hope soon to send you some. It is so difficult for me to take the vegetables out of the soup without eating any of it. It is easy for me to fast and to do without fresh air but I sleep badly. Yet I hardly feel any of the ills of the flesh. My heart is better, as I live such a quiet life, almost without exercise. I have been very thin but it is less noticeable now, although my are like sacks. I am quite gray too.
The spirits of the whole family are good. God is very near us, we feel His support, and are often amazed that we can endure events and separations which once might have killed us. Although we suffer horribly still there is peace in our souls. I suffer most for Russia, and I suffer for you, too, but I know that ultimately all will be for the best. Only I don't understand anything any longer. Everyone seems to have gone mad. I think of you daily and love you dearly. You are splendid and I know how wonderfully you have grown. Do you remember the picture by Nesteroffs, Christ's Bride? Does the convent still attract you in spite of your new friend? God will direct everything. I want to believe that I shall see your buildings (my hospital) in the style of a convent. Where are the sisters of mercy Mary and Tatiana? What has become of Princess Chakoffskaia, and has she married her friend? Old Madame Orloff has written me that her grandson John was killed in the War, and that his fiancee killed herself from grief. Now they are buried beside his father.
My regards to my dear Lancers, to Jakoleff, Father John, and others. Pray for them all. I am sure that God will have mercy on our Russia. Has she not atoned for her awful sins?
My love, burn my letters. It is better. I have kept nothing of the dear past. We all kiss you tenderly and bless you. God is great and will not forsake those encircled by His love. Dear child, I shall be thinking of you especially during Christmas. I hope that we will meet again, but where and how is in His hands. We must leave it all to Him who knows all better than we." - Alexandra's letter to Anna Vyrubova, written December 9, 1917
"My own precious child: It seems strange writing in English after nine weary months. We are doing a risky thing sending this parcel, but we profit through — who is still on the outside. Only promise to burn all we write as it could do you endless harm if they discovered that you were still in contact with us. Therefore don't judge those who are afraid to visit you, just leave time for people to quiet down. You cannot imagine the joy of getting your sweet letters. I have read and reread them over and over to myself and to the others. We all share the anguish, and the misery, and the joy to know that you are free at last. I won't speak of what you have gone through. Forget it, with the old name you have thrown away. Now live again.
One has so much to say that one ends by saying nothing. I am unaccustomed to writing anything of consequence, just short letters or cards, nothing of consequence. Your perfume quite overcame us. It went the round of our tea table, and we all saw you quite clearly before us. I have no 'white rose' to send you, and could only scent the shawl with vervaine. Thanks for your own mauve bottle, the lovely blue silk jacket, and the excellent pastilles. The children and Father were so touched with the things you sent, which we remember so well, and packed up at Tsarskoe. We have none of such things with us, so alas, we have nothing to send you. I hope you got the food through — and Mme. —. I have sent you at least five painted cards, always to be recognized by my signature. I have always to be imagining new things!
Yes, God is wonderful and has sent you (as always) in great sorrow, a new friend. I bless him for all that he has done for you, and I cannot refrain from sending him an image, as to all who are kind to you. Excuse this bad writing, but my pen is bad, and my fingers are stiff from cold. We had the blessing of going to church at eight o'clock this morning. They don't always allow us to go. The maids are not yet let in as they have no papers, so the odious commandant doesn't admit them. The soldiers think we already have too many people with us. Well, thanks to all this we can still write to you. Something good always comes out of everything.
Many things are very hard... our hearts are ready to burst at times. Happily there is nothing in this place that reminds us of you. This is better than it was at home where every corner was full of you. Ah, child, I am proud of you. Hard lessons, hard school, but you have passed your examinations so well. Thanks, child, for all you have said for us, for standing up for us, and for having borne all for our own and for Russia's sake. God alone can recompense you, for if He has let You see horrors He has permitted you to gaze a little into yonder world. Our souls are nearer now than before. I feel especially near you when I am reading the Bible. The children also are always finding texts suiting you. I am so contented with their souls. I hope God will bless my lessons with Baby. The ground is rich, but is the seed ripe enough? I do try my utmost, for all my life lies in this.
Dear, I carry you always with me. I never am separated from your ring, but at night I wear it on my bracelet as it is so loose on my finger. After we received our Friend's cross we got also this cross to bear. God knows it is painful being cut off from the lives of those dear to us, after being accustomed for years to share every thought. But my child has grown self-dependent with time, in your love we are always together. I wish we were so in fact, but God, knows best. One learns to forget personal desires. God is merciful and will never forsake His children who trust Him.
I do hope this letter and parcel will reach you safely, only you had better write and tell — that you get everything safely. Nobody here must dream that we evade them, otherwise it would injure the kind commandant and they might remove him.
I keep myself occupied ceaselessly. Lessons begin at nine (in bed). Up at noon for religious lessons with Tatiana, Marie, Anastasia, and Alexei. I have a German lesson three times a week with Tatiana and once with Marie, besides reading with Tatiana. Also I sew, embroider, and paint, with spectacles on because my eyes have become too weak to do without them. I read 'good books' a great deal, love the Bible, and from time to time read novels. I am so sad because they are allowed no walks except before the house and behind a high fence. But at least they have fresh air, and we are grateful for anything. He is simply marvelous. Such meekness while all the time suffering intensely for the country. A real marvel. The others are all good and brave and uncomplaining, and Alexei is an angel. He and I dine à deux and generally lunch so, but sometimes downstairs with the others.
They don't allow the priest to come to us for lessons, and even during services officers, commandant and Kommissar, stand near by to prevent any conversation between us. Strangely enough Germogene is Bishop here, but at present he is in Moscow. We have had no news from my old home or from England. All are well, we hear, in the Crimea, but the Empress Dowager has grown old and very sad and tearful. As for me my heart is better as I lead such a quiet life. I feel utter trust and faith that all will be well, that this is the worst, and that soon the sun will be shining brightly. But oh, the victims, and the innocent blood yet to be shed! We fear that Baby's other little friend from Mogiloff who was at M. has been killed, as his name was included among cadets killed at Moscow. Oh, God, save Russia! That is the cry of one's soul, morning, noon and night. Only not that shameless peace.
I hope you got yesterday's letter through Mme. —'s son-in-law. How nice that you have him in charge of your affairs. Today my mind is full of Novgorod and the awful 17th. Russia must suffer for that murder too. Dear, I am glad you see me in your dreams. I have seen you only twice, vaguely, but some day we shall be together again. When? I do not ask. He alone knows. How can one ask more? We simply give thanks for every day safely ended. I hope nobody will ever see these letters, as the smallest thing makes them react upon us with severity. That is to say we get no church services outside or in. The suite and the maids may leave the house only if guarded by soldiers, so of course they avoid going. Some of the soldiers are kind, others horrid.
Forgive this mess, but I am in a hurry and the table is crowded with painting materials. So glad you liked my old blue book. I have not a line of yours — all the past is a dream. One keeps only tears and grateful memories. One by one all earthly things slip away, houses and possessions ruined, friends vanished. One lives from day to day. But God is in all, and nature never changes. I can see all around me churches (long to go to them), and hills, the lovely world. Volkov wheels me in my chair to church across the street from the public garden. Some of the people bow and bless us, but others don't dare. All our letters and parcels are examined, but this one today is contraband. Father and Alexei are sad to think they have nothing to send you, and I can only clasp my weary child in my arms and hold her there as of old. I feel old, oh, so old, but I am still the mother of this country, and I suffer its pains as my own child's pains, and I love it in spite of all its sins and horrors. No one can tear a child from its mother's heart, and neither can you tear away one's country, although Russia's black ingratitude to the Emperor breaks my heart. Not that it is the whole country, though. God have mercy and save Russia.
Little friend, Christmas without me — up in the sixth story! My beloved child, long ago I took you to hold in my heart and never to be separated. In my heart is love and forgiveness for everything, though at times I am not as patient as I ought to be. I get angry when people are dishonest, or when they unnecessarily hurt and offend those I love. Father, on the other hand, bears everything. He wrote to you of his own accord. I did not ask him. Please thank everybody who wrote to us in English. But the less they know we correspond the better, otherwise they may stop all letters.
Ever your own, A." - Alexandra's letter to Anna Vyrubova, written December 10, 1917
"Dearest little one: Again I am writing to you, and you must thank — and reply carefully. My maids are not yet allowed to come to me, although they have been here eleven days. I don't know how it will come out. Isa is ill again. I hear that she will be allowed in when she arrives, as she has a permis, but I doubt it. I understand your wounded feelings when she did not go to see you, but does she know your address? She is timid, and her conscience in regard to you is not quite clear. She remembers perhaps my words to her last Autumn that there might come a time when she too would be taken from me and not allowed to return. She lives in the Gorochovaya. with a niece. Zizi Narishkina lives in the Sergievskja, 54.
I hope you will receive the things we sent for Christmas. Anna and Volkov helped me to send the parcels, the others I sent through —, so I make use of the opportunity to write to you. Be sure to write when you receive them. I make a note in my book whenever I write. I have drawn some postcards. Did you receive them? One of these days I shall send you some flour.
It is bright sunshine and everything glitters with hoar frost. There are such moonlight nights, it must be ideal on the hills. But my poor unfortunates can only pace up and down the narrow yard. How I long to take Communion. We took it last on October 22, but now it is so awkward, one has to ask permission before doing the least thing. I am reading Solomon and the writings of St. Seraph, every time finding something new. How glad I am that none of your things got lost, the albums I left with mine in the trunk. It is dreary without them, but still better so, for it would hurt to look at them and remember. Some thoughts one is obliged to drive away, they are too poignant, too fresh in one's memory. All things for us are in the past, and what the future holds I cannot guess, but God knows, and I have given everything into His keeping. Pray for us and for those we love, and especially for Russia when you are at the shrine of the 'All-Hearing Virgin.' I love her beautiful face. I have asked Chemoduroff to take out a prayer (slip of paper with names of you all) on Sunday.
Where is your poor old Grandmamma? I often think of her in her loneliness, and of your stories after you had been to see her. Who will wish you a happy Christmas on the telephone? Where is Serge and his wife? Where is Alexander Pavlovich? Did you know that Linevich had married, and Groten also, straight from the Fortress? Have you seen Mania Rebinder? This Summer they were still at Pavlovskoye, but since we left we have heard nothing of them. Where are Bishops Isidor and Melchisedek? Is it true that Protopopov has creeping paralysis? Poor old man, I understand that he has not been able to write anything yet, his experiences being too near. Strange are our lives, are they not? One could write volumes.
Zinaida Tolstoya and her husband have been in Odessa for some time. They write frequently, dear people. Rita Hitrovo is staying with them, but she scarcely writes at all. They are expecting Lili Dehn soon, but I have heard nothing from her for four months. One of our wounded, Sedlov, is also in Odessa. Do you know anything of Malama?
Eristoff give you Tatiana's letter? Baida Apraxin and the whole family except the husband are in Yalta. He is in Moscow at the church conference. Professor Serge Petrovitch is also in Moscow. Petroff was, and Konrad is, in Tsarskoe. There too is Marie Rudiger Belaiev. Constadious, our old general, is dead. I try to give you news of all, though you probably know more than I do.
The children wear the brooches that Mme. Soukhomlinova sent them. Mine I hung over a frame. Do you ever see old Mme. Orlova? Her grandson John was killed, and her Alexei is far away. It is sad for the poor old woman.
I am knitting stockings for the small one. He asked for a pair as all his are in holes. Mine are warm and thick like the ones I gave the wounded, do you remember? I make everything now. Father's trousers are torn and darned, the girls' under-linen in rags. Dreadful, is it not? I have grown quite gray. Anastasia, to her despair, is now very fat, as Marie was, round and fat to the waist, with short legs. I do hope she will grow. Olga and Tatiana are both thin, but their hair grows beautifully so that they can go without scarfs. Fancy that the papers say that Prince Volodia Troubetskoy has joined Kaledin with all his men. Splendid! I am sure that N. D. will take part also now that he is serving in Odessa. I find myself writing in English, I don't know why. Be sure to burn all these letters as at any time your house may be searched again." - Alexandra's letter to Anna Vyrubova, written December 15, 1917
When Christmas came, the happy occasion was spoiled by a new rule.
"The Tsarina and Grand-Duchesses had for many weeks been preparing with their own hands a present for each of us and each of the servants. Her Majesty distributed some woollen waistcoats which she had knitted herself. With such touching thoughtfulness as this she tried to show her gratitude to those who had remained faithful.
On December 24th the priest came to the house for Vespers; everyone then assembled in the large hall, and the children were full of delight at the 'surprise' prepared for us. We now felt part of one large family; we did our best to forget the preoccupations and distresses of the time in order to enjoy to the fullest and in complete unity these moments of peaceful intimacy.
The next day, Christmas Day, we went to church. By the orders of the priest the deacon intoned the Mnogoletie (the prayer for the long life of the Imperial family). This was an imprudence which was bound to bring reprisals. The soldiers, with threats of death, demanded that the prayer should be revoked. This incident marred the pleasant memories which this day should have left in our minds. It also brought us fresh annoyances and the supervision became still stricter." - from Thirteen Years at the Russian Court (1921), written by Pierre Gilliard
"Good morning, dear Isa, — I hope you slept well and don't feel too beaten and exhausted to-day. I send you this image with my blessing, from the Saint of Tobolsk — John Maximovich — Metropolitan of Tobolsk. His relics lie in the cathedral on the hill (alas! we have not yet been there). Hang it up, and may he be your Guard and Guide. May you soon get strong, well, and fed up again here. We have service at 12, wonder whether you may come to it, as the guard will just have changed and it would be nice to begin your entry by prayers.
A loving kiss, Darling, fr.
A." - Alexandra's letter to Sophie Buxhoeveden, written on Christmas Eve 1917
"A blessed Xmas to you, Isa dearest! And a loving wish and kiss. Above all, I wish God to give you good health, peace of mind, 'doushevny mir' [peace of soul], which is the greatest gift. We can ask for patience, which we all need in this world of suffering (and utter madness), consolation, strength and happiness. A 'Joyful Xmas' might sound like mockery, but it means joy over the New-born King, who died to save us all, and does not that renew one's trust and faith in God's infinite mercy? He is so far above all, is All in all: He will show mercy, when the right time comes, and we must patiently and resignedly await His good will. We are helpless to mend matters — can only trust, trust and pray and never lose faith or one's love to Him. Prayed for you, and shall again at mass — too hard you cannot go. I so hoped by a side door to another church. The Emperor and all the children send many a message and good wish. They share my regret. God bless you. Won't you look out of your window and tell Nastinka [Countess Anastasia Hendrikova] when? At one, let's say, and then we can peep at the corner window, and perhaps catch a glimpse of you, just off to church! God bless and protect you.
A loving kiss from your affectionate A. A happy Xmas to Miss Mather." - Alexandra's letter to Sophie Buxhoeveden, written on Christmas Day 1917
"Thank God, we are still in Russia and all together." - from Alexandra's letter to Sophie Buxhoeveden, written on New Year's Eve 1917
"Both the Emperor and Empress had realised the danger to their own lives from the beginning of the Revolution, but though the Empress hoped for no mercy from the extremists in Moscow, who were most of them not Russians at all, she still trusted that no real Russian would ever lay hands on his Tsar. She was convinced that her children were in no actual danger. She foresaw a sad future for her daughters, spending their youth in such tragic circumstances, but she did not fear for their lives. All through her own troubles, Alexandra Feodorovna thought of others, not only those actually with her, but those far away. Notwithstanding their ever-increasing financial difficulties, she managed to send parcels of food to humble friends at Tsarskoe Selo, where by this time people were nearly starving. Things were indescribably worse in Russia than they had ever been in Imperial times." - from The Life and Tragedy of Alexandra Feodorovna (1928), written by Baroness Sophie Buxhoeveden
"After January new difficulties arose for the Imperial Family. Matters of which they had never even thought now forced themselves on their notice. Up till this time the Government had paid for the upkeep of the establishment. When the first Provisional Government was replaced by the Bolsheviks, funds ceased to come from Petrograd, and Kobylinsky had difficulty in providing the pay of his men. In order to supply the wants of the Household, Prince Dolgorukov and General Tatistchev signed bills in their own names, but the merchants were becoming anxious; and the shops were reluctant to give further credit. There was still some money left of that provided by Count Benckendorff for the journey, but in order to make this last as long as possible, it was necessary to practise the most rigid economy. When Prince Dolgorukov explained this to the Empress, she talked the matter over with the gentlemen-in-waiting and it was settled that she, Prince Dolgorukov and M. Gilliard ... would undertake the housekeeping together and work out the lines on which it could be managed with the minimum of cost. Some of the servants had to be discharged, the Empress giving them enough money to take them back to Petrograd, should they wish to go there. Those that remained offered to work without pay. This the Empress would not agree to, though she was much touched by their offer, and all the salaries were proportionately cut down. The members of the Household joined in paying the kitchen bills. The one o'clock dinner was the chief meal, and consisted of soup, a dish of meat or fish, and some stewed fruit. Supper was generally of macaroni or rice or pancakes followed by vegetables. Often 'gifts from Heaven', as the Empress called the anonymous presents of fish and game, came to supplement this somewhat meagre fare. When these were not forthcoming, there was only just enough to go around — no second helping for anyone. There were no luxuries, of course, except when as a very rare treat a rich merchant sent some caviar or some specially fine fish. Sugar was very scarce, three lumps a day being doled out to each person. Coffee was unknown to everyone, except to the Empress, to whom it played the part of a medicine. Butter was dispensed with, except when it came as a gift. The Empress's fine underlinen gave way under the merciless washing of the local laundry. There was no money to buy new things, and in any case nearly all the shops, except those that sold necessaries, were closed, the few articles that were smuggled through from Japan being sold at fancy prices. As it happened, a few friends heard of this particular difficulty, and sent the commander some underlinen and warm clothes for the Empress and her daughters. She was quite overcome with gratitude, and afraid that the givers must have deprived themselves on her account. Thus the long, dark, winter days dragged on monotonously, all striving to keep up intellectual interests in order not to be affected by the small, petty incidents of semi-prison life." - from The Life and Tragedy of Alexandra Feodorovna (1928), written by Baroness Sophie Buxhoeveden
Alexandra's letters yet continued.
"Thank you, darling, for all your letters which were a great joy to me and to us all. On Christmas Eve I received the letter and the perfume, then more scent by little — I regret not having seen her. Did you receive the parcels sent through the several friends, flour, coffee, tea, and lapscha? The letters and the snapshots sent through, did you get them? I am worried as I hear that all parcels containing food are opened. I begin today to number my letters, and you must keep account of them. Your cards, the small silver dish, and Lili's tiny silver bell I have not yet been able to receive.
We all congratulate you on your name day. May God bless, comfort, strengthen you, and give you joy. Believe, dear, that God will yet save our beloved country. He will not be unforgiving. Think of the Old Testament and the sufferings of the Children of Israel for their sins. And now it is we who have forgotten God, and that is why they cannot bring any happiness. How I prayed on the 6th that God would send the spirit of good judgment and the fear of the Lord. Everyone apparently have lost their heads. The reign of terror is not yet over, and it is the sufferings of the innocent which nearly kills us. What do people live on now that everything is taken from them, their homes, their incomes, their money? We must have sinned terribly for our Father in Heaven to punish so frightfully. But I firmly and unfalteringly believe that in the end He will save us. The strange thing about the Russian character is that it can so suddenly change to evil, cruelty, and unreason, and can as suddenly change back again. This is in fact simply want of character. Russians are in reality big, ignorant children. However it is well known that during long wars all bad passions flame up. What is happening is awful, the murders, the persecutions, the imprisonments, but all of it must be suffered if we are to be cleansed, new born.
Forgive me, darling, that I write to you so sadly. I often wear your jackets, the blue, and the mauve, as it is fearfully cold in the house. Outside the frosts are not often severe, and sometimes I go out and even sit on the balcony. The children are just recovering from scarletina, except Anastasia, who did not catch it. The elder ones began the new year by being in bed, Marie, of course, having a temperature of 39-5. Their hair is growing well. Lessons have begun again. Yesterday I gave three. Today I am free, and am therefore writing. On the 2nd of January I thought of you and sent a candle to be set before the Holy Seraphim. I have asked that prayers may be said in the cathedral where the relics lie, for all our dear ones. You remember the old pilgrim who came to Tsarskoe Selo. Fancy that he has been here. He wandered in with his big staff, and sent me a prosvera.
I have begun your books. The style is quite different from the others. I have got myself some good books, too, but have not much time for reading. I embroider, knit, draw, and give lessons, but my eyes are getting weaker so that I can no longer work without glasses. You will see me quite an old woman! Did you know that the marine officer Nicholas Demenkov has appendicitis? He is in Odessa. One of our wounded, Oroborjarsky, was operated on there a month ago. He is so sad and homesick, so far away. I correspond with his mother, a gentle, good, and really Christian soul. Lili Dehn went to see her.
I trust you received the painted cards that I put in the parcel of provisions. Not all were successful. If you receive my letters just write, thanks for No. 1, etc. My three maids and Isa are still not allowed to come to us, and they are very much distressed, just sitting idle. But is of better use on the outside. Little one, where are your brother Serge and his wife? I know nothing of them. Your poor sister Alya, I hope she is not too sad; she has friends, but her husband, has he not become too sad away from her? How are the sweet children? Miss Ida is with her still, I hope. Did you know that sister Grekova is to be married soon to Baron Taube? How glad I am that you have seen A. P. Did he not seem strange out of uniform, and what did he say about his brother? Ah, all is past, and will never return. We must begin a new life and forget self. I must finish, my dear little soul. Christ be with you. Greetings to all. I kiss your mother. I congratulate you again. I want quickly to finish the small painting, and get it to you. I fear you are again passing through fearful days. Reports filter through of murders of officers." - Alexandra's letter to Anna Vyrubova, written January 9, 1918
"Dearly Beloved Sister Seraphine:
From a full heart I wish you well on your name day! God send you many blessings, good health, fortitude, meekness, strength to bear all punishments and sorrows sent by God, and gladness of soul. May the sun lighten the path you tread through life, warm all by your love, and let your light shine forth these sad, gloomy days. Do not despair, suffering sister. God will hear your prayers, all in good time. Also we pray for thee, sister chosen of the Lord. We have thee in fond remembrance. Your little corner is far away from us. All who love thee in this place send greetings. Do not misjudge the bad writing of thy sister. She is illiterate, an ailing lay sister. I am learning the writing of prayers, but weakness of sight prevents my striving. I read the works of Bishop Gr. Nissky, but he writes too much of the creation of the world. From our sister Zinaida I have received news, so much good will in every word, breathing peace of the soul.
The family known to thee are in good health, the children have suffered from the usual ills of the young, but are now restored to health. The youngest ill, but in good spirits however, and without suffering. The Lord has blessed the weather, beautiful and soft. Thy sister walks out and enjoys the sun, but when there is more frost she hides in her cell, takes a stocking, puts on her spectacles, and knits. Sister Sophia not long since arrived, has not been granted admittance, those in authority having refused it. She has found hospitality at the priest's with her old woman. The other sisters are all in different places. Dearly loved sister, art thou not weary reading this letter? All the others have gone to dinner. I remain on guard by the sick Anastasia. In the cells next ours is sister Catherina giving a lesson. We are embroidering for church, Sisters Tatiana and Maria with great zeal. Our father Nicholas gathers us around him in the evenings, and reads to us while we pass the time with needlework. With his meekness and good health he does not disdain to saw and chop wood for our needs, cleans the roads, too, with the children. Our mother Alexandra greets thee, sister, and sends her motherly blessings and hopes, sister, that thou livest in the Spirit of Christ. Life is hard but the spirit is strong. Dear sister Seraphine, may God keep thee. I beg for your prayers. Christ be with thee.
The Sinful sister FEODORA.
Prayers!" - Alexandra's letter to Anna Vyrubova, translated from Church Slavonic and written January 16, 1918
"So unexpectedly I received the letter of the 1st and the card of the 10th. I hasten to reply. Tenderly we thank through you Karochinsky. Really it is touching that even now we are not forgotten. God grant that his estates should be spared. God bless him. I am sending you some food but I do not know if it will ever reach you. Often we think of you. I wrote to you on the 16th through the hospital, on the 17th a card by Mr. Gibbs, and on the 9th two letters by —. There! I have dropped my favorite pen and broken it. How provoking! It is fearfully cold, 29 degrees, 7 in the bathroom, and blowing in from everywhere. Such a wind, but they are all out. We hope to see the officer Tamarov if only from a distance. So glad you received everything. I hope you wear the gray shawl, and that it smells of vervaine, a well-remembered scent. Kind Zinoschka found it in Odessa, and sent it to me.
I am so surprised you have made the acquaintance of Gorky. He was awful formerly. Disgusting and immoral books and plays he wrote. Can it be the same man? How he fought against father and Russia when he lived in Italy. Be careful, my love. I am so glad you can go to church. To us it is forbidden, so service is at home, and a new priest serves. How glad I am that all is well with Serge. With Tina it will be difficult, but God will help her. It is true what they say about Marie Rebinder's husband? She wrote me, through Isa, that they are still in St. Petersburg, and that they threatened to kill him. It is difficult to understand people now. Sometimes they are with the Bolshevists outwardly, but in their hearts they are against them.
The cross we hung over the children's beds during their illness but during church service it lies on the table. Bishop Germogene serves special prayers daily for father and mother he is quite on their side, which is strange. I must hurry as one waits to take this letter. I am sending you a prayer I wrote on a piece of birch bark we cut. I can't draw much as my eyes are so bad, also my fingers are quite stiff from cold. Such a wind, and it blows so in the rooms. I am sending you a little image of the Holy Virgin. Thanks for the lovely prayer. I wear often the jackets you gave me. I send you all my soul-prayers and love. I believe firmly so I am quite calm. We are all your own and kiss you tenderly." - Alexandra's letter to Anna Vyrubova, written January 22, 1918
"My precious child: There is a possibility of writing to you now as — leaves here on the 26th. I only hope no one robs him on the way. He takes you two pounds of macaroni, three pounds of rice, and a little ham. It is so well does not live with us. I have knitted stockings, and have knitted you a pair. They are men's size but they will do under valenki and when it is cold in the rooms. Here we have 29 degrees of frost, and 6 in the big room. It is blowing terribly. I was keenly touched by the money you sent, but do not send any more as for the present we have all we need. There have been days when we did not know what to do. I wonder what you are living on. The little money you had I put in the box with your jewels. (My fingers are so stiff I can hardly hold my pen.) I am glad your rooms are so comfortable and so light, but it must be difficult for you to climb the long staircase. How are your poor back and legs?
I know nothing about Lili Dehn, and from my two sisters and my brother I have heard nothing for a year. Only one letter from my sister Elizabeth last summer. Olga Alexandrovna writes long letters to the children all about her boy whom she adores and nurses herself. The grandmamma I think is getting very old, and is very sad.
Tudles has four in her room. They say that Marie P. lives well in Kisslovodsk, both her sons are with her and she receives all the beau monde from St. Petersburg. Merika lives there also and is expecting a baby. Marianna Ratkova has bought a house there, and receives on Thursdays. Mr. Gibbs asks often about you, also Tudles, and my big Niuta Demidova. The little doggy lies on my knees and warms them. It is mortally cold, but in St. Petersburg there is probably worse darkness, hunger, and cold. God help you all to bear it patiently. The worse here the better in yonder world.
It hurts to think how much bloodshed will have to be before better days come.... Darling, I send you all my love, and am so sad I can send you little else. I embroider for the church when my eyes allow me, otherwise I knit, but soon I shall have no more wool. We can't get any here-too dear, and very bad. I have had a letter from Shoura Petrovskaia, who is taking care of her brother's children. She sews boots and sells them. In October the children got a letter from their old nurse in England — the first one from there. What rot they publish about Tatiana in the newspapers! Do you see your new friend and saviour often? How is he? Love to your kind parents. I would love to write you certain things of interest, but just now there are many things one can't put in a letter. The little one has put on a sweater, and the girls wear valenki in their rooms. I know how sad you would feel....
The kind servant Sednov has just brought me a cup of cocoa to warm me up. How do you pray with the rosary, and what prayers do you say on every tenth? I generally say Our Father and to the Holy Virgin, but should one say the same prayer to the end? I looked for it in the books but did not get any information. I long so to go to church but they allow us that only on great holidays. So we hope to go on the 2nd of February, and on the 3rd I shall order prayers at the relics for you. How is poor old Sukhomlinov? Where is Sacha? I suppose one may completely trust the little officer you sent. I asked him to make the acquaintance of the priest who served us before, a most devoted and energetic man, a real fighting priest — more than spiritual perhaps — yet with a charming face, and a constantly sweet smile, very thin, long gray beard, and clever eyes. His feeling for us is known all over the country now by the good ones, therefore they took him away from us, but perhaps better so, as he can do more now. The Bishop is quite for father and mother, and so is the Patriarch in Moscow, and it seems most of the clergy. Only you must be careful what sort of people come to you. I am so anxious about your seeing Gorky. Be prudent, and don't have any serious conversations with him. People will try to get around you as before. I don't mean real friends, honest-meaning people, but others who for personal reasons will use you as their shield. Then you will have the brutes after you again.
I am racking my brains what to send you, as one can get nothing here at all. Our Christmas presents were all the work of our own hands, and now I must give my eyes a rest.... How pleased I was that Princess Eristov has spoken so kindly of us. Give her and also her son our love. Where does he serve now? The people here are very friendly lots of Kirghise. When I sit in the window they bow to me, if the soldiers are not looking.
What dreadful news about the robbing of the sacristy in the Winter Palace. There were so many precious relics and many of our own ikons. They say it has been the same in the church of Gatchina. Did you know that the portraits of my parents and of father have been utterly destroyed? Also my Russian Court dresses and all the others as well? But the destruction of the churches is the worst of all. They say it was the soldiers from the hospital in the Winter Palace who did it.... We hear that the soldiers in Smolny have seized all available food, and are quite indifferent to the prospect of the people starving. Why was money sent to us rather than having been given to the poor? True, there were for us some very difficult times when we could not pay any bills, and when for four months the servants had to go without any wages. The soldiers here were not paid, so they simply took our money to keep them quiet. All this is petty, but it makes great trouble for the commandant. The Hofmarshall Chancelerie is still in existence, but when they abolish it I really don't know what we shall do. Well, God will help, and we still have what we need.
I think often of Livadia and what may be happening there. They say that many former political prisoners are stationed there. Where is our dear yacht, the Standart I am afraid to inquire about it. My God! How I suffered when I heard that you were imprisoned on the Polar Star. I cannot think of the yacht. It hurts too much.
It is said that our Kommissar is about to be removed, and we are so rejoiced. His assistant will leave with him. They are both terrible men, Siberian convicts formerly. The Kommissar was in prison for fifteen years. The soldiers have decided to send them away, but thank God they have left us our commandant. The soldiers manage absolutely everything here.
I am lying down, as it is six o'clock. There is a fire burning but it barely warms the room. Soon the little one will be coming in for a lesson. I am teaching the children the Divine Service. May God help me to teach it to them so that it will remain with them through their whole lives, and develop their souls. It is a big responsibility.... It is such a blessing to live all together, and be so near to one another. Still you must know what I have to endure, having no news from my brother, nor any idea of what lies in the future. My poor brother also knows nothing of us. If I thought my own little old home and the family would have to suffer what we have — it is awful! Then it might begin also in England. However you remember that our Friend said that no harm would come to my old home. I try to suppress all these thoughts that my soul may not be overwhelmed with despair. I trust all my dear ones to the Holy Virgin. May she shield them from all evil. I still have much to thank God for; you are well, and I can write to you; I am not separated from our own darlings. Thank God we are still in Russia (this is the chief thing), and we are near the relics of the Metropolitan John, and we have peace. Good-bye, my little daughter." - Alexandra's letter to Anna Vyrubova, written January 23, 1918
"How much better it would have been if Tina could have gone to Odessa to have her baby, not far from Serge, and where kind Zinotchka could have looked after her and arranged everything. But now that the Rumanians have taken Kichiniev Serge has probably left, and they are together again. Sharing hardships will cause their love to increase and strengthen. How is Alyas's health? Was it Mariana's former husband, Derfelden, who was killed in the south? Her mother and family live in Boris's house.
I sometimes see Isa in the street (i.e. from the window). The sister of mercy Tatiana Andrievna is now in St. Petersburg taking care of her sister. Later she will return to Moscow. She seems rather nervous. Give our greetings to our confessor, father Afanasi, father Alexander, and my poor old Zio. I don't know anything about my second servant Kondratiev. What has become of our chauffeurs and the coachman Konkov? Is old General Schwedov still alive?
Holy Virgin, keep my daughter from all danger, bless and console her!" - Alexandra's letter to Anna Vyrubova, written January 1918
Above: Alexandra and Anna Vyrubova.
"My own darling little one,
How terribly sad I am for you about the death of your dear father, and that I could not be with you to help and console you in your great sorrow. You know that I am with you in my prayers. May Christ and the Holy Virgin comfort you, and wipe the tears from your eyes. May God receive his soul in peace. Tomorrow morning I will ask Anushka to go and order service for him for forty days near the relics. Alas we can pray only at home. In him we both lost a true friend of many years. Father and the children suffer with you, tenderly kiss you, and know all that your sensitive heart feels.
As your telegram went by post I don't know what day God took him to himself. Is it possible it was the same day you wrote to me? I am so glad you saw him daily, but how did it happen, your poor father? For himself one must thank God so many hardships to live through — no home, and everything so bad. I remember how it was foretold to us that he would die when Serge married. And you two women are all alone now. I wonder if your brother-in-law was there to help you, or your kind uncle. I shall try to write to his address a long letter, and also to your mother. Tell her I kiss her tenderly, and how much we have always loved her and honored your father. He was a rare man.... Don't cry. He is happy now, rests and prays for you at the Throne of God.
I am glad that you received my two letters. Now you will get two more. What your little messenger will tell you about your dear ones is for yourself alone. What horrors go on at Yalta and Massandra — My God! Where is the salvation for us all and for the poor officers? All the churches being ruined — nothing held sacred any more — it will finish in some terrible earthquake, or something like it as the chastisement of God. May He have mercy on our beloved country. How I pray for Russia....
They say that the Japanese are in Tomsk and keep good order there. I hope you got our little parcel. As we have no sugar I shall send you a little honey which you can eat during Lent. We live still by the old style, but probably shall have to change. Only I don't know how it will be then with Lent and all the services. The people may be very angry if two weeks are thrown out. That is why it was never done before....
The sun shines and even warms us in the day times. I feel that God will not forsake but will save us, though all is so dark and tears are flowing everywhere.... My little one, don't suffer too much. All this had to be. Only my God, how sorry I am for the innocent ones killed everywhere. I can't write any more. Ask your mother to forgive the mistakes I shall make in writing to her in Russian, and that I cannot express myself as warmly as I would like to. Good-bye, my darling. I am sending you letters from father and the children." - Alexandra's letter to Anna Vyrubova, written February 5, 1918
"Darling child: Thanks for all from father, mother and the children. How you spoil us all by your dear letters and gifts. I was very anxious going so long without news from you, especially as rumors came that you were gone. Alas, I can't write you as I could wish for fear that this may fall into other hands. We have not yet received all that you have sent (contraband). It comes to us little by little. Dear child, do be careful of the people who come to see you. The way is so slippery, and it is so easy to fall. Sometimes a road is cleared through the snow on which one's true friends are to walk — and then the road becomes still more slippery!
We are all right, and I am now a real mistress of a household, going over accounts with M. Gilliard. New work and very practical. The weather is sunny — they are even sun burned, and even when the frost comes back it is warmer in the sun. I have sat twice on the balcony and sometimes sit in the yard. My heart has been much better, but for a week I have had great pains in it again. I worry so much. My God! How Russia suffers. You know that I love it even more than you do, miserable country, demolished from within, and by the Germans from without. Since the Revolution they have conquered a great deal of it without even a battle.... If they created order now in Russia, how dreadful would be the country's debasement — to have to be grateful to the enemy. They must never dare to attempt any conversations with father or mother.
We hope to go to Communion next week, if they allow us to go to church. We have not been since the 6th of January. I shall pray to the rosary you have written. Kiss your poor mother. I am glad you took some of your things from the hospital. Best love to poor G. Sukhomlinov. What terrible times you are all living through. On the whole we are better off than you.... Soon spring is coming to rejoice our hearts. The way of the cross first then joy and gladness. It will soon be a year since we parted, but what is time? Life here is nothing — eternity is everything, and what we are doing is preparing our souls for the Kingdom of Heaven. Thus nothing, after all, is terrible, and if they do take everything from us they cannot take our souls.... Have patience, and these days of suffering will end, we shall forget all the anguish and thank God, God help those who see only the bad, and don't try to understand that all this will pass. It cannot be otherwise. I cannot write all that fills my soul, but you, my little martyr, understand it better than I. You are farther on than I.... We live here on earth but we are already half gone to the next world. We see with different eyes, and that makes it often difficult to associate with people who call themselves, and really are religious.... My greatest sin is my irritability. The endless stupidity of my maid, for instance - she can't help being stupid, she is so often untruthful, or else she begins to sermonize like a preacher and then I burst — you know how hot-tempered I am. It is not difficult to bear great trials, but these little buzzing mosquitoes are so trying. I want to be a better woman, and I try. For long periods I am really patient, and then breaks out again my bad temper. We are to have a new confessor, the second in these seven months. I beg your forgiveness, too, darling. Day after tomorrow is the Sunday before Lent when one asks forgiveness for all one's faults. Forgive the past, and pray for me. Yesterday we had prayers for the dead, and we did not forget your father. A few days ago was the twenty-sixth anniversary of my father's death. I long to warm and to comfort others — but alas, I do not feel drawn to those around me here. I am cold towards them, and this, too, is wrong of me.
What a nightmare it is that it is Germans who are saving Russia and are restoring order. What could be more humiliating for us? With one hand the Germans give, and with the other they take away. Already they have seized an enormous territory. God help and save this unhappy country. Probably He wills us to endure all these insults, but that we must take them from the Germans almost kills me. During a war one can understand these things happening, but not during a revolution. Now Batoum has been taken — our country is disintegrating into bits. I cannot think calmly about it. Such hideous pain in heart and soul. Yet I am sure God will not leave it like this. He will send wisdom and save Russia I am sure.
The weather is so fine that I have been sitting out on the balcony writing music for the Lenten prayers, as we have no printed notes. We had to sing this morning without any preparation, but it went-well, not too badly. God helped. After service we tried to sing some new prayers with the new deacon, and I hope it will go better tonight.
On Wednesday, Friday and Saturday mornings we were allowed to go to the eight o'clock morning service in church, imagine the joy and comfort! The other days we five women will sing during the home service. It reminds me of Livadia and Oreanda. This week we shall spend the evenings alone with the children, as we want to read together. I know of nothing new. My heart is troubled but my soul remains tranquil as I feel God always near. Yet what are they deciding on in Moscow? God help us." - Alexandra's letter to Anna Vyrubova, written March 2, 1918
"Peace and yet the Germans continue to advance farther and farther in. When will it all finish? When God allows. How I love my country, with all its faults. It grows dearer and dearer to me, and I thank God daily that He allowed us to remain here and did not send us farther away. Believe in the people, darling. The nation is strong, and young, and as soft as wax. Just now it is in bad hands, and darkness and anarchy reigns. But the King of Glory will come and will save, strengthen, and give wisdom to the people who are now deceived." - Alexandra's letter to Anna Vyrubova, written March 13, 1918
"We are endlessly touched by all your love and thoughtfulness. Thank everybody for us, please, but really it is too bad to spoil us so, for you are among so many difficulties and we have not many privations, I assure you. We have enough to eat, and in many respects are rich compared with you. The children put on yesterday your lovely blouses. The hats also are very useful, as we have none of this sort. The pink jacket is far too pretty for an old woman like me, but the hat is all right for my gray hair. What a lot of things! The books I have already begun to read, and for all the rest such tender thanks. He was so pleased by the military suit, vest, and trousers you sent him, and all the lovely things. From whom came the ancient image? I love it.
Our last gifts to you, including the Easter eggs, will get off today. I can't get much here except a little flour. just now we are completely shut off from the south, but we did get, a short time ago, letters from Odessa. What they have gone through there is quite terrible. Lili is alone in the country with her grandmother and our godchild, surrounded by the enemy. The big Princess Bariatinsky and Mme. Tolstoy were in prison in Yalta, the former merely because she took the part of the Tartars. Babia Apraxina with her mother and children live upstairs in their house, the lower floor being occupied by soldiers. Grand Duchess Xenia with her husband, children, and mother are living in Dülburg. Olga Alexandrovna lives in Harax in a small house because if she had remained in Ai Todor she would have had to pay for the house. What the Germans are doing! Keeping order in the towns but taking everything. All the wheat is in their hands, and it is said that they take seed — corn, coal, former Russian soldiers — everything. The Germans are now in Bierki and in Kharkov, Poltava Government. Batoum is in the hands of the Turks.
Sunbeam has been ill in bed for the past week. I don't know whether coughing brought on the attack, or whether he picked up something heavy, but he had an awful internal hemorrhage and suffered fearfully. He is better now, but sleeps badly and the pains, though less severe, have not entirely ceased. He is frightfully thin and yellow, reminding me of Spala. Do you remember? But yesterday he began to eat a little, and Dr. Derevenko, is satisfied with his progress. The child has to lie on his back without moving, and he gets so tired. I sit all day beside him, holding his aching legs, and I have grown almost as thin as he. It is certain now that we shall celebrate Easter at home because it will be better for him if we have a service together. I try to hope that this attack will pass more quickly than usual. It must, since all Winter he was so well.
I have not been outside the house for a week. I am no longer permitted to sit on the balcony, and I avoid going downstairs. I am sorry that your heart is bad again, but I can understand it. Be sure and let me know well in advance if you move again. Everyone, we hear, has been sent away from Tsarskoe. Poor Tsarskoe, who will take care of the rooms now? What do they mean when they speak of an 'état de siège' there?.." - Alexandra's letter to Anna Vyrubova, written March 1918
"Darling 'Sister Seraphine':
I want to talk to you again, knowing how anxious you will be for Sunbeam. The blood recedes quickly — that is why today he again had very severe pains. Yesterday for the first time he smiled and talked with us, even played cards, and slept two hours during the day. He is frightfully thin, with enormous eyes, just as at Spala. He likes to be read to, eats little — no appetite at all in fact. I am with him the whole day, Tatiana or Mr. Gilliard relieving me at intervals. Mr. Gilliard reads to him tirelessly, or warms his legs with the Fohn apparatus. Today it is snowing again but the snow melts rapidly, and it is very muddy. I have not been out for a week and a half, as I am so tired that I don't dare to risk the stairs. So I sit with Alexei.... A great number of new troops have come from everywhere. A new Kommissar has arrived from Moscow, a man named Yakovlev, and today we shall have to make his acquaintance. It gets very hot in this town in Summer, is frightfully dusty, and at times very humid. We are begging to be transferred for the hot months to some convent. I know that you too are longing for fresh air, and I trust that by God's mercy it may become possible for us all.
They are always hinting to us that we shall have to travel either very far away, or to the center, but we hope that this will not happen, as it would be dreadful at this season. How nice it would be if your brother could settle himself in Odessa. We are quite cut off from the south, never hear from anybody. The little officer will tell you — he saw me apart from the others. I am so afraid that false rumors will reach your ears — people lie so frantically. Probably the little one's illness was reported as something different, as an excuse for our not being moved. Oh well, all is God's will. The deeper you look the more you understand that this is so. All sorrows are sent us to free us from our sins or as a test of our faith, an example to others. It requires good food to make plants grow strong and beautiful, and the gardener walking through his garden wants to be pleased with his flowers. If they do not grow properly he takes his pruning knife and cuts, waiting for the sunshine to coax them into growth again. I should like to be a painter, and make a picture of this beautiful garden and all that grows in it. I remember English gardens, and at Livadia you saw an illustrated book I had of them, so you will understand.
Just now eleven men have passed on horseback, good faces, mere boys — this I have not seen the like of for a long time. They are the guard of the new Kommissar. Sometimes we see men with the most awful faces. I would not include them in my garden picture. The only place for them would be outside where the merciful sunshine could reach them and make them clean from all the dirt and evil with which they are covered.
God bless you, darling child. Our prayers and blessings surround you. I was so pleased with the little mauve Easter egg, and all the rest. But I wish I could send you back the money I know you need for yourself. May the Holy Virgin guard you from all danger. Kiss your dear mother for me. Greetings to your old servant, the doctors, and Fathers John and Dosifei. I have seen the new Kommissar, and he really hasn't a bad face. Today is Sasha's birthday." - Alexandra's letter to Anna Vyrubova, written March 1918
"MY OWN DEAR DARLING,
Best and tender thanks for your dear letter. At last we have received good news from you; it was an anxious time not to hear for so long, knowing that things are bad where you are living. I can imagine though what terrible mental agony you must be going through, and you are alone. My little godchild is with you always — what he must see and hear! It is a hard school. My God, how sorry I am for you my little giant one; you have always been so brave. I think of those days of a year ago. I shall never forget that you were everything to me and believe that God will not leave you or forsake you. You left your son for 'Mother' and her family, and great will your reward be for this.
Thank God that your husband is not with you, for it would have been terrible, but not to know anything about him is more than awful. When I did not know for four days where mine was 'then', but what was that in comparison with you. But for us, in general, it is better and easier than for others it hurts not to be with all our dear ones and not to be able to share their troubles. Yes, separation is a dreadful thing, but God gives strength to bear even this, and I feel the Father's presence near me and a wonderful sense of peaceful joy thrills and fills my soul (Tina feels the same), and one cannot understand the reason for it, as everything is so unutterably sad, but this comes from Above and is beside ourselves, and one knows that He will not forsake His own, will strengthen and protect.
Have news at last, two received new from K.; poor thing, she has a new sorrow, has buried her beloved father her mother is with her. It is not easy for her to stay in town, though she has good friends and is not so cut off as you are, dearest. Be careful of certain of your friends — they are dangerous.
If you see dear Count Keller again, tell him that his ex-Chief sends him her heartiest greeting, and tell him that she prays constantly for him. I am anxious to know whether he has any news of his eldest son. Radionoff and his brother are in Kieff. I hear that Gariainoff and his wife have been in Gagra and are now — so they say — at Rostoff. Am anxious about them, all last week have been worrying over it, and do not know why.
To-day we have 20 degrees of frost, but the sun is warm and we have already had real spring days. Godmother does all the housekeeping now, looks through books and accounts — a lot to do, quite a real housewife. Everybody is well — only a few colds, and feet ached, not very badly, but enough to keep from walking. They have all grown, Marie is now much thinner, the fourth is stout and small. Tatiana helps everyone and everywhere, as usual; Olga is lazy, but they are all one in spirit. They kiss you tenderly, sends his hearty greetings. They are already sunburnt, they work hard, sew and cut wood, or we should have none. The court is full of timber, so we shall have enough to last.
We still are not allowed to go to church. A.V.'s mother is very sorry that you have not been to see her. She is living with some relatives of your mother's. Their estate has been taken away from them. The son has returned, he now looks, as they all do, pale and miserable.
They, poor things, can no longer keep M. S., and will probably be obliged soon to leave the house. She hardly ever gets a letter from her son; he too is complaining, so I copy what they write to me and send it on to them.
He is very upset not to hear from you, though he himself has written to you. He is going to Japan to learn English, he learnt more than 900 words in ten days and of course overtired himself and has been feeling ill. He was operated upon in December, in Vladivostok. Rita writes that Nicholas Jakovlevitch is at Simferopol with his friend, the brother of little M. Their splendid friend has been killed there, we loved him very much, he was one of our wounded.
I only write what I dare, for in the present days one never knows in whose hands the letter might fall. We hope to do our devotions next week if we are allowed to do so. I am already looking forward to those beautiful services-such a longing to pray in church. I dream of our church and of my little cell-like corner near the altar. Nature is beautiful, everything is shining and brilliantly lighted up. The children are singing next door. There are no lessons to-day as it is Friday of Carnival week.
I relive in mind, day by day, through the year that has passed and think of those I saw for the last time. Have been well all along, but for the past week my heart has been bad and I do not feel well, but this is nothing. We cannot complain, we have got everything, we live well, thanks to the touching kindness of the people, who in secret send us bread, fish, pies, etc.
Do not worry about us, darling, dearly beloved one. For you all it is hard and especially for our Country!!! This hurts more than anything else — and the heart is racked with pain — what has been done in one year! God has allowed it to happen — therefore it must be necessary so that they might understand, that eyes might be opened to lies and deceits.
I cannot read the newspapers quietly, those senseless telegrams — and with the German at the door!!!
K. and everyone else looks at 'brother' as a saviour Great God, to what have they come to, to wait for the enemy to come and rid them from the infernal foe. And who is sent as the leader? Aunt Baby's brother. Do you understand. They wished to act nicely, probably thinking that it would be less painful and humiliating to her, but for her it is far worse — such an unbearable pain — but everything generally hurts now — all one's feelings have been trampled underfoot — but so it has to be, the soul must grow and rise above all else; that which is most dear and tender in us has been wounded — is it not true? So we too have to understand through it all that God is greater than everything and that He wants to draw us, through our sufferings, closer to Him. Love Him more and better than one and all. But my country — my God — how I love it, with all the power of my being, and her sufferings give me actual physical pain.
And who makes her suffer, who causes blood to flow?... her own sons. My God, what a ghastly horror it all is. And who is the enemy? This cruel German, and the worst thing for Aunt Baby is that he is taking away everything as in the time of Tsar Alexsei Michailovich. But I am convinced that it will not remain so, help will come from Above, people can no longer do anything, but with God all things are possible, and He will show His strength, wisdom and all forgiveness and love — only believe, wait and pray.
This letter will, in all probability, reach you on the day of our parting (one year ago), it seems so near and yet again as if centuries had passed since then.
It is seven months that we have been here. We see Ysa only through the windows, and Madeleine too. They have been here for three or four months today, I am told. I must give that letter at once.
I kiss you and Titi tenderly, Christ be with you, my dearest ones. Greeting to Mother and Grandmother. The children kiss and love you, and he [Nicholas] sends his very best wishes." - Alexandra's letter to Lili Dehn, dated March 2/15, 1918
"Darling child, we thank you for all your gifts, the little eggs, the cards, and the chocolate for the little one. Thank your mother for the books. Father was delighted with the cigarettes, which he found so good, and also with the sweets. Snow has fallen again, although the sunshine is bright. The little one's leg is gradually getting better, he suffers less, and had a really good sleep last night. Today we are expecting to be searched very agreeable! I don't know how it will be later about sending letters. I only hope it will be possible, and I pray for help. The atmosphere around us is fairly electrified. We feel that a storm is approaching, but we know that God is merciful, and will care for us. Things are growing very anguishing. Today we shall have a small service at home, for which we are thankful, but it is hard, nevertheless, not to be allowed to go to church. You understand how that is, my little martyr.
I shall not send this, as ordinarily, through —, as she too is going to be searched. It was so nice of you to send her a dress. I add my thanks to hers. Today is the twenty-fourth anniversary of our engagement. How sad it is to remember that we had to burn all our letters, yours too, and others as dear. But what was to be done? One must not attach one's soul to earthly things, but words written by beloved hands penetrate the very heart, become a part of life itself.
I wish I had something sweet to send you, but I haven't anything. Why did you not keep that chocolate for yourself? You need it more than the children do. We are allowed one and a half pounds of sugar every month, but more is always given us by kind-hearted people here. I never touch sugar during Lent, but that does not seem to be a deprivation now. I was so sorry to hear that my poor lancer Ossorgine had been killed, and so many others besides. What a lot of misery and useless sacrifice! But they are all happier now in the other world. Though we know that the storm is coming nearer and nearer, our souls are at peace. Whatever happens will be through God's will. Thank God, at least, the little one is better.
May I send the money back to you? I am sure you will need it if you have to move again. God guard you. I bless and kiss you, and carry you always in my heart. Keep well and brave. Greetings to all from your ever loving, A." - Alexandra's letter to Anna Vyrubova, written March 21, 1918. It was the last letter she ever wrote to her.
During captivity at Tobolsk, Alexei suffered his worst hemophilia attack yet, one which was even worse, if not just as bad, as the episode he had endured at Spała. Likely out of boredom, one day he rode his sled down the staircase and crashed, injuring his groin. He thereafter lay in bed, screaming in pain and shouting that he wanted to die. Later, at Ekaterinburg, he was heard to whisper to Alexandra, "I am not afraid to die, but I am afraid of what they will do to us here." The bleeding was so severe that the boy ultimately lost the ability to walk, and for the rest of his life he had to use a wheelchair and be carried to get around. And this time there was no Rasputin to take the pain away. Then, in April 1918, Alexei had yet another bleed.
Above: Alexei in captivity at Tobolsk, one of the last known photos taken of him.
"He had caught whooping cough from his playfellow, Kolia Derevenko, and had burst a blood-vessel in coughing. The internal haemorrhage was nearly as bad as during his attack at Spala. Dr. Derevenko was in despair, for he lacked nearly every drug he needed in the badly stocked little town. ... The Empress sat day and night with her boy, only allowing the Grand Duchess Tatiana to relieve her for a few hours. The pains were intolerable, the fever was high, and the boy's life hung in the balance. Happily, Dr. Derevenko tried a new remedy, which proved successful, and the bleeding stopped." - from The Life and Tragedy of Alexandra Feodorovna (1928), written by Baroness Sophie Buxhoeveden
Note: On Alexandra's personal emblem of the swastika, please remember that this was decades before its once peaceful and benevolent meaning was irrevocably corrupted and ruined by the Nazis.
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