Monday, February 28, 2022

Irène's letter to William Boyd Carpenter, Bishop of Ripon, dated December 28, 1905

Source:

The Life and Letters of William Boyd Carpenter, Bishop of Ripon, page 259, by H. D. A. Major, 1925


The letter:

Kiel.
Dec. 28th, 1905.
MY DEAR BISHOP,
Most heartfelt thanks for your so kind letter of good wishes with those beautiful verses you wrote, and the charming book of Poems by Whittier, which is quite new to me and has such lovely passages. I shall prize it very much, I assure you. The Prince joins me in sending you our truest good wishes for 1906 and that it may be one of joy for you and yours.

I just received letters from my two sisters in Russia; they avoid touching on political matters excepting just mentioning the anxiety they are in for the welfare of their country. It is grievous times they are going through. At Zarskoe the Empress is out of those terrible sights and sounds, but my eldest sister Ella at Moscow is not — although fortunately she left there before these last barricade fights took place to join the Emperor for his Namesday. They both occupy themselves chiefly for the sick and wounded returned from the war. Alise goes almost daily to a hospital in the Park of Zarskoe, where she even reads to the poor soldiers in Russian — she has a school for them where they do basketwork and tailoring, carpentering and boot-making — for those poor souls who have been amputated — and she says those with one arm learn also very quickly. Then a newly founded Hospital for Babies where nurses are trained for Nursery work, wh. is a great failing in Russia, cleanliness and neatness being one of their very weak points, also answers well. She started it this summer and is quite proud of her success so far, as she is constantly seeing them at work — it is really a school for nurses in better families, nursemaids, etc. Then her two trains are still running for the sick and wounded in Siberia — and her depôt of clothing and necessaries still greatly in demand. All this is some comfort to her in these sad times. My sister in Moscow has many institutions she is at the head of, and especially one hospital where now in her sad widowhood she goes twice a day to and says: "My hospital is an intense comfort to me; I never thought it could be so calming to know those simple souls with their little interests, their great faith in God, and unbounded patience — how they bear their own wounds is marvellous; one feels so small next to that patience. Never worry for me, nothing prints itself on me to make me nervous physically or morally — I have a feeling of belonging to those who suffer — that I want to be my aim in life; personal sorrow is gone, there is no room for it. Serge (her husband) is at rest, such rest we on this earth can't find: how can and dare I long for him to return? I have and will stand alone — I who never did a thing without his advice, it seems strange to me. I manage it — but what must be must be, and perhaps that is my strength that God does not allow me to lose courage, it is work, work, and I feel well, etc. I have much more comfort than Ernie (our brother now nearly two years ago when his little girl died) had and none of those worries, etc. All only live to give me pleasure, and perhaps the hardest thing for me now is not to become selfish. I have a constant battle with myself; it is good not to spoil people. All charity-work gives so much joy in spite of so many a very bitter disappointment, but that is good — it pushes one on."

I have only written this out for you!!! — who know us all almost — that you should have a peep into her sweet unselfish nature, so full of love and faith. So true, so simple, never gaining any influence except by her deeds and never pushing herself forward, always keeping in the background. You can well imagine how she is adored — but her life is in God's hands, and nowhere else would she be happy at present. She knows all the failings of the Russian character, but also their good points. She is no dreamer. Forgive me writing all this about my own dear sisters — but you kindly asked after them, and I thought you might like a peep into their inner life so sacred to us.
Once more every good wish for you and yours from
Yours truly,
IRÈNE, PRINCESS HENRY.


Above: Alexandra.


Above: Ella.


Above: Irène.


Above: William Boyd Carpenter, Bishop of Ripon.

Baroness Sophie Buxhoeveden's account of Russia entering World War One and Alexandra's reaction to it, late July to August 2 (New Style), 1914

Sources:

The Life and Tragedy of Alexandra Feodorovna, pages 185 to 188, by Baroness Sophie Buxhoeveden, 1928


The account:

The outbreak of the world war came as a terrible blow to the Empress. She seemed to have a presentiment of coming events; for she was most depressed when they left the Standart, on which she had gone with the Emperor to recover from the fatigues of the Presidential visit, and said to some of those with her that she knew it would be the last cruise they would all take together. She had a horror of war. The memories of the Russo-Japanese War, and of the troubles that had followed, were yet too fresh in her mind. The Emperor and she hoped to the last that some agreement might be reached. Though the Emperor did not distress her by giving her all the details of the Governmental discussion, she felt very anxious, but she still did not realise how tense the situation had become.

On the first of August the Empress and her daughters waited a long time for the Emperor to come down to dinner. As a rule he was very punctual, and the Empress felt that something serious must have happened. He was receiving the Minister for Foreign Affairs, M. Sazonoff, and the audience seemed to last inordinately long. When the Emperor came, it was with the news that Germany had declared war. At first the Empress could not grasp it. War! her nightmare! She knew the completeness of German organisation; she knew that Russia was not prepared for war at that moment; and that England had not yet joined Russia and France. She was in despair, but, then and always, she had the conviction that Russia would win in the end.

The moment of the declaration of war made her set up a wall in her heart between Germany and Russia. She was the Empress of Russia — Russian always in heart and soul. "Twenty years have I spent in Russia, half my life, and the happiest, fullest part of it. It is the country of my husband and son. I have lived the life of a happy wife and mother in Russia. All my heart is bound to this country I love," she once said to me during the war. People in Germany do not understand how the Empress came to adopt the Russian standpoint so completely, and became so thoroughly Russian in her views. The reason for it was her intense, passionate love for the Emperor. She considered herself as wholly belonging to him. His country was her country, as also his religion had completely become hers. She always gave herself up entirely to those she loved, and identified herself with them.

The thought of her brother and of his feelings at having to take part in a war where he would be in the other camp gave her acute pain, but she brought her will-power to bear to face the inevitable. She regarded the inexplicable telegram sent by the Emperor William, after his ambassador, Count Pourtales, had already handed the declaration of war to the Russian Foreign Minister, as an attempt to shift the responsibility for the outbreak of war on to the Emperor Nicholas, and was very indignant. The mystery of that telegram has never been explained. She expressed her opinion on the matter to the Cesarevitch's Swiss tutor, M. Pierre Gilliard, who quotes the conversation fully in his book, Thirteen Years at the Russian Court. According to her wont, the Empress did not remain content with lamentations. At ten o'clock at night on the day of the declaration of war, I came back from a drive, not knowing what had happened. My maid told me that a woman's voice from the Imperial villa had rung me up three times during the last hour, that it was either one of the Grand Duchesses or the Empress herself. I immediately rang up "Alexandria," the Emperor's villa, and found the Empress already at the telephone. In a voice broken by suppressed sobs, she told me of the event. "War is declared," she said. "Good Heavens, so Austria has done it!" I exclaimed. "No, no," she said, "Germany. It is ghastly, terrible — but God will help and will save Russia... But we must work... go at once to Mme. E. and speak to her about opening the workshop at the Hermitage. Then talk to my secretary and ring me up — no matter how late, or come round." She entered into details, getting calmer as she spoke, giving minute instructions. I spoke to the Empress again later. She was perfectly calm, having got over her momentary weakness.

The next day, August 2nd, the Emperor and Empress with their daughters — the little Cesarevitch was ill — went to St. Petersburg to attend a solemn Te Deum at the Winter Palace. This was an old custom that had been followed at the outbreak of the Japanese War. Crowds of people thronged the Winter Palace; they were in a very frenzy of patriotism. Ladies clung to the Emperor, kissing his hands. No one alive had seen such enthusiasm, which was reminiscent of 1812. At the outbreak of the Japanese War there had been some street demonstrations of students in the early days, but now the whole country was roused. The climax was reached when the Emperor, addressing the officers present, repeated Alexander I's promise of 1812 — not to conclude peace while a single enemy still remained on Russian soil. Sir George Buchanan, in his book, My Mission to Russia, quotes the words: "I solemnly swear not to make peace, as long as there is a single enemy on Russia's soil." Multitudes cheered in the streets, and when the Emperor and Empress appeared at the Palace windows, the whole crowd that thronged the huge square spontaneously knelt down and sang the National Anthem. ...

When the mobilisation was announced in the St. Petersburg military district, the Guards were the first to go. The Empress went to a Te Deum before her Lancer regiment left for the front, and said goodbye in person to all the officers and men. All through the war she followed the actions of this regiment, and after every battle in which the Lancers took part she helped all the families to get news. ...


Above: Alexandra.


Above: Baroness Sophie Buxhoeveden.

Anna Vyrubova's account of Russia entering World War One and Alexandra's reaction to it, summer 1914

Sources:

Memories of the Russian Court, pages 102 to 107, by Anna Vyrubova, 1923


The account:

Nineteen-fourteen, that year of fate for all the world, but more than all for my poor country, began its course in Russia, as elsewhere, in apparent peace and tranquility. With us, as with other civilized people, the tragedy of Sarajevo came as a thrill of horror and surmise. I do not know exactly what we expected to follow that desperate act committed in a distant province of Austria, but certainly not the cataclysm of a World War and the ruin of three of the proudest empires of earth. Very shortly after the assassination of the Austrian heir and his wife the Emperor had gone to Kronstadt, headquarters of the Baltic fleet, to meet French and British squadrons then on cruise in Russian waters. From Kronstadt he proceeded to Krasnoe, near Petrograd, the great summer central review center of the old Russian Army where the usual military maneuvers were in progress. Returning to Peterhof, the Emperor ordered a hasty departure to Finland because, he said, the political horizon was darkening and he needed a few days of rest and distraction. We sailed on July 6 (Russian Calendar) and had a quiet cruise, the last one we were ever destined to enjoy. Not that we intended it to be our last, for returning to Peterhof, from whence the Emperor hurried again to the reviews, we left nearly all our luggage on the yacht. The Empress, however, in one of her fits of melancholy, told me that she felt that we would never again be together on the Standart.

The political skies were indeed darkening. The Serbian murders and the unaccountably arrogant attitude of Austria grew in importance every succeeding day, and for many hours every day the Emperor was closeted in his study with Grand Duke Nicholas, Foreign Minister Sazonoff and other Ministers, all of whom urged on the Emperor the imperative duty of standing by Serbia. During the short intervals of the day when we saw the Emperor he seemed half-dazed by the momentous decision he was called upon to make. A few days before mobilization I went to lunch at Krasnoe with a friend whose husband was on the Russian General Staff. In the middle of luncheon this officer, Count Nosstiz, burst into the room exclaiming: "Do you know what the Emperor has done? Can you guess what they have made him do? He has promoted the young men of the Military Academy to be officers, and he has sent the regiments back to their casernes to await orders. All the military attachés are telegraphing their Governments to ask what it means. What can it mean except war?"

From my friend's house I went almost at once back to Peterhof and informed the Empress what I had heard. Her amazement was unbounded, and over and over she repeated that she did not understand, that she could not imagine under what influence the Emperor had acted. He was still at the maneuvers, and although I remained late with the Empress I did not see him that night. The days that followed were full of suspense and anxiety. I spent most of my time playing tennis — very badly — with the girls, but from my occasional contacts with the Empress I knew that she was arguing and pleading against the war which apparently the Emperor felt to be inevitable. In one short talk I had with him on the subject he seemed to find a certain comfort in the thought that war always strengthened national feeling, and in his belief Russia would emerge from a truly righteous war stronger and better than ever. At this time a telegram arrived from Rasputine in Siberia, which plainly irritated the Emperor. Rasputine strongly opposed the war, and predicted that it would result in the destruction of the Empire. But the Emperor refused to believe it and resented what was really an almost unprecedented interference in affairs of state on the part of Rasputine.

I think I have spoken of the Emperor's aversion to the telephone. Up to this time none of his studies were ever fitted with telephones, but now he had wires and instruments installed and spent a great deal of time in conversations with Ministers and ministers of the military staff. Then came the day of mobilization, the same kind of a day of wild excitement, waving street crowds, weeping women and children, heart-rending scenes of parting, that all the warring countries saw and ever will remember. After watching hours of these dreadful scenes in the streets of Peterhof I went to my evening duties with the Empress only to find that she had remained in absolute ignorance of what had been taking place. Mobilization! It was not true, she exclaimed. Certainly armies were moving, but only on the Austrian frontiers. She hurried from the room and I heard her enter the Emperor's study. For half an hour the sound of their excited voices reached my ears. Returning, the Empress dropped on her couch as one overcome by desperate tidings. "War!" She murmured breathlessly. "And I knew nothing of it. This is the end of everything." I could say nothing. I understood as little as she the incomprehensible silence of the Emperor at such an hour, and as always, whatever hurt her hurt me. We sat in silence until eleven when, as usual, the Emperor came in to tea, but he was distraught and gloomy and the tea hour also passed in almost complete silence. ...

... War had come indeed, but even war was better than the threat and the uncertainty of the preceding weeks. The extreme depression of the Empress, however, continued unrelieved. Up to the last moment she hoped against hope, and when the German formal declaration of war was announced she gave way to a perfect passion of weeping, repeating to me through her tears: "This is the end of everything." The state visit of their Majesties to Petrograd soon after the declaration really seemed to justify the Emperor's belief that the war would arouse the national spirit, so long latent, in the Russian people. Never again do I expect to behold such a sight as the streets of Petrograd presented on that day. To say that the streets were crowded, thronged, massed, does not half express it. I do not believe that one single able-bodied person in the whole city remained at home during the hours spent in the capital by the Sovereigns. The streets were almost literally impassable, and the Imperial motor cars, moving at snail's pace from quay to palace through that frenzied sea of people, cheering, singing the national hymn, calling down blessings on the Emperor, was something that will live forever in the memories of all who witnessed it. The Imperial cortège was able, thanks to the police, to reach the Winter Palace at last, but many of the suite were halted by the crowds at the entrance to the great square in front of the palace and had to enter at a side door opening from the small garden to the west.

Inside the palace the crowd was relatively as great as that on the outside. Apparently every man and woman who had the right to appear at Court were massed in the corridors, the staircases, and the state apartments. Slowly their Majesties made their way to the great Salle de Nicholas, the largest hall in the palace, and there for several hours they stood receiving the most extraordinary tokens of homage from thousands of officials, ministers, and members of the noblesse, both men and women. Te Deums were sung, cheers and acclamations arose, and as the Emperor and Empress moved slowly through the crowds men and women threw themselves on their knees, kissing the hands of their Sovereigns with tears and fervent expressions of loyalty. Standing with others of the suite in the Halle de Concert, I watched this remarkable scene, and I listened to the historic speech of the Emperor which ended with the assurance that never would there be an end to Russian military effort until the last German was expelled from the beloved soil. From the Salle de Nicholas the Sovereigns passed to a balcony overlooking the great square. There with the Tsarevitch at their side they faced the wildly exulting people who with one accord dropped to their knees with mute gestures of love and obedience. Then as countless flags waved and dipped there arose from the lips and hearts of that vast assembly the moving strains of our great hymn: "God Save the Tsar."

Thus in a passion of renewed love and patriotism began in Russia the war of 1914. ...


Above: Alexandra with Anna Vyrubova in happier times.

Pierre Gilliard's account of Russia entering World War One and Alexandra's reaction to it, July 20 to August 1 (New Style), 1914

Sources:

Treize années à la cour de Russie: Le tragique destin de Nicolas II et de sa famille, pages 81 to 86, by Pierre Gilliard, 1921


Thirteen Years at the Russian Court, pages 98 to 106, by Pierre Gilliard, translated by F. Appelby Holt, 1921


The account:

Le [20 juillet] après-midi le président de la République arrivait sur le cuirassé La France en rade de Cronstadt où l'empereur était venu l'attendre. Ils rentrèrent ensemble à Péterhof et M. Poincaré fut conduit dans les appartements au Grand Palais. Le soir un dîner de gala fut donné en son honneur, l'impératrice et les dames de sa suite y assistèrent.

Le président de la République fut pendant quatre jours l'hôte de Nicolas II et de nombreuses solennités marquèrent son court séjour. L'impression qu'il fît sur l'empereur fut excellente et j'eus personellement l'occasion de m'en convaincre dans les circonstances suivantes.

M. Poincaré avait été invité à prendre part au déjeuner de la famille impériale, dont il était le seul convive. On le reçut sans le moindre apparat au petit cottage d'Alexandria, dans le cadre intime de la vie de tous les jours. ...

Le 23 juillet, après un dîner d'adieu offert à Leurs Majestés sur La France, le président quittait Cronstadt à destination de Stockholm.

Le lendemain nous apprenions avec stupeur que l'Autriche avait remis la veille au soir un ultimatum à la Serbie. Je rencontrai l'après-midi l'empereur dans le parc, il était préoccupé, mais ne semblait pas inquiet.

Le 25, un Conseil extraordinaire est réuni à Krasnoïé-Sélo sous la présidence de l'empereur. On décide d'observer une politique de conciliation, digne et ferme toutefois. Les journaux commentent avec passion la démarche de l'Autriche.

Les jours suivants, le ton de la presse devient de plus en plus violent. On accuse l'Autriche de vouloir écraser la Serbie. La Russie ne peut laisser anéantir la petite nation slave. Elle ne peut tolérer la suprématie austro-allemande dans les Balkans. L'honneur national est en jeu.

Cependant, tandis que les esprits s'échauffent, et que la diplomatie met en branle tous les rouages de ses chancelleries, des télégrammes angoissés partent du cottage d'Alexandria pour la lointaine Sibérie où Raspoutine se remet lentement de sa blessure à l'hôpital de Tioumen. Ils sont tous à peu près la même teneur: «Nous sommes effrayés par la perspective de la guerre. Crois-tu qu'elle soit possible? Prie pour nous. Soutiens-nous de tes conseils.» Et Raspoutine de répondre qu'il faut éviter la guerre à tout prix si l'on ne veut pas attirer les pires calamités sur la dynastie et sur le pays tout entier. Ces conseils répondaient bien au vœu intime de l'empereur dont les intentions pacifiques ne sauraient être mises en doute. Il faut l'avoir vu pendant cette terrible semaine de la fin de juillet pour comprendre par quelles angoisses et quelles tortures morales il a passé. Mais le moment était venu où l'ambition et la perfidie germaniques devaient avoir raison de ses dernières hésitations et allaient tout entraîner dans la tourmente.

Malgré toutes les offres de médiation, et bien que le gouvernement russe eût proposé de liquider l'incident par un entretien direct entre Saint-Pétersbourg et Vienne, nous apprenions le 29 juillet que la mobilisation générale avait été ordonnée en Autriche. Le lendemain c'était la nouvelle du bombardement de Belgrade et le surlendemain la Russie répondait par la mobilisation de toute son armée. Le soir de ce même jour, le comte de Portalès, ambassadeur d'Allemagne à Saint-Pétersbourg, venait déclarer à Sazonof que son gouvernement donnait un délai de douze heures à la Russie pour arrêter la mobilisation, faute de quoi l'Allemagne mobiliserait à son tour.

Le délai accordé par l'ultimatum à la Russie expirait le samedi, 1er août, à midi. Le comte de Portalès ne parut cependant que le soir au ministère des affaires étrangères. Introduit chez Sazonof, il lui remit solennellement la déclaration de guerre de l'Allemagne à la Russie. Il était 7 heures 10; l'acte irréparable venait de s'accomplir.

...

Au moment où cette scène historique se déroulait dans le cabinet du ministre des affaires étrangères à Saint-Pétersbourg, l'empereur, l'impératrice et leurs filles assistaient à l'office du soir dans la petite église d'Alexandria. En rencontrant l'empereur quelque heures plus tôt, j'avais été frappé de son expression de grande lassitude: il avait les traits tirés, le teint terreux, et les petites poches qui se formaient sous ses yeux quand il était fatigué semblaient avoir démesurément grandi. Et maintenant il priait de toute son âme pour que Dieu écartât de son peuple cette guerre qu'il sentait déjà toute proche et presque inévitable. Tout son être semblait tendu dans un élan de sa foi simple et confiante. A côté de lui, l'impératrice, dont le visage douloureux avait l'expression de grande souffrance que je lui avais vue si souvent au chevet d'Alexis Nicolaïévitch. Elle aussi priait ce soir-là avec une ferveur ardente, comme pour conjurer la menace redoutable...

Le service religieux terminé, Leurs Majestés et les grandes-duchesses rentrèrent au cottage d'Alexandria; il était près de huit heures. L'empereur, avant de se rendre à table, passa dans son cabinet de travail pour prendre connaissance des dépêches qui avaient été apportées en son absence, et c'est ainsi qu'il apprit, par un message de Sazonof, la déclaration de guerre de l'Allemagne. Il eut un court entretien par téléphone avec son ministre et le pria de venir le rejoindre à Alexandria dès qu'il en aurait la possibilité.

Cependant l'impératrice et les grandes-duchesses attendaient à la salle à manger. Sa Majesté, inquiète de ce long retard, venait de prier Tatiana Nicolaïevna d'aller chercher son père, lorsque l'empereur, très pâle, apparut enfin et leur annonça, d'une voix qui malgré lui trahissait son émotion, que la guerre était déclarée. A cette nouvelle l'impératrice se mit à pleurer et les grandes-duchesses, voyant la désolation de leur mère, fondirent en larmes à leur tour. ...

English translation (by Holt):

In the afternoon of [the 20th of July] the cruiser La France arrived in Cronstadt harbour with the French President on board. The Czar was there to receive him. They returned to Peterhof together, and M. Poincaré was taken to the apartments prepared for him in the palace. In the evening a gala banquet was given in his honour, and the Czarina and the ladies-in-waiting were present.

For four days the President of the French Republic was the guest of Nicholas II., and many ceremonies marked his short visit. He made an excellent impression upon the Czar, a fact which I was able to prove to my own satisfaction under the following circumstances.

M. Poincaré had been invited to the Imperial luncheon-table, where he was the sole guest. He was received without the slightest formality into the family circle at the little Alexandria Cottage. ...

On July 23rd the President left Cronstadt for Stockholm, immediately after a dinner given in Their Majesties' honour on the La France.

The next day, to our utter amazement, we learned that Austria had presented an ultimatum to Serbia on the previous evening. I met the Czar in the park in the afternoon. He was preoccupied, but did not seem anxious.

On the 25th an Extraordinary Council was held at Krasnoïe-Selo in the Czar's presence. It was decided to pursue a policy of dignified but firm conciliation. The Press was extremely angry at the step taken by Austria.

The next few days the tone of the Press became increasingly violent. Austria was accused of desiring to annihilate Serbia. Russia could not let the little Slav state be overwhelmed. She could not tolerate an Austro-Hungarian supremacy in the Balkans. The national honour was at stake.

Yet while tempers were rising and the diplomats were setting the machinery of all the chancellories in motion, heart-rending telegrams left Alexandria Cottage for distant Siberia, where Rasputin was slowly recovering from his wound in the hospital at Tioumen. They were nearly all of the same tenor: "We are horrified at the prospect of war. Do you think it is possible? Pray for us. Help us with your counsel."

Rasputin would reply that war must be avoided at any cost if the worst calamities were not to overtake the dynasty and the Empire.

This advice was consonant with the dearest wish of the Czar, whose pacific intentions could not be doubted for a moment. We had only to see him during that terrible last week of July to realise what mental and moral torture he had passed through. But the moment had come when the ambition and perfidy of Germany were to steel him against his own last hesitation and sweep everything with them into the whirlpool.

In spite of all the offers of mediation and the fact that the Russian Government had suggested closing the incident by direct negotiations between St. Petersburg and Vienna, we learned on July 29th that general mobilisation had been ordered in Austria. The next day we heard of the bombardment of Belgrade, and on the following day Russia replied with the mobilisation of her whole army. In the evening of that day Count Portalès, the German Ambassador at St. Petersburg, called to inform M. Sazonoff that his Government would give Russia twelve hours in which to stop her mobilisation, failing which Germany would mobilise in turn.

The twelve hours granted to Russia in the ultimatum expired at noon on Saturday, August 1st. Count Portalès, however, did not appear at the Ministry for Foreign Affairs until the evening. He was shown into Sazonoff, and then formally handed him Germany's declaration of war on Russia. It was ten minutes past seven. The irreparable step had been taken.

...

At the moment when this historic scene was taking place in the Foreign Minister's room at St. Petersburg, the Czar, the Czarina, and their daughters were attending evensong in the little Alexandria church. I had met the Czar a few hours before, and been much struck by the air of weary exhaustion he wore. The pouches which always appeared under his eyes when he was tired seemed to be markedly larger. He was now praying with all the fervour of his nature that God would avert the war which he felt was imminent and all but inevitable.

His whole being seemed to go out in an expression of simple and confident faith. At his side was the Czarina, whose care-worn face wore that look of suffering I had so often seen at her son's bedside. She too was praying fervently that night, as if she wished to banish an evil dream. ...

When the service was over Their Majesties and the Grand-Duchesses returned to Alexandria Cottage. It was almost eight o'clock. Before the Czar came down to dinner he went into his study to read the dispatches which had been brought in his absence. It was thus, from a message from Sazonoff, that he learned of Germany's declaration of war. He spoke to his Minister on the telephone for a short time and asked him to come down to Alexandria Cottage the moment he could get away.

Meanwhile the Czarina and the Grand-Duchesses were waiting for him in the dining-room. Her Majesty, becoming uneasy at the long delay, had just asked Tatiana Nicolaïevna to fetch her father, when the Czar appeared, looking very pale, and told them that war was declared, in a voice which betrayed his agitation, notwithstanding all his efforts. On learning the news the Czarina began to weep, and the Grand-Duchesses likewise dissolved into tears on seeing their mother's distress. ...


Above: Alexandra.


Above: Pierre Gilliard.

Sunday, February 20, 2022

Alix's letter to William Boyd Carpenter, Bishop of Ripon, dated June 1, 1894

Source:


The letter:

Harrogate, June 1st 1894
Dear Sir,
I send you my very best thanks for your kind letter and the sermon you preached at Windsor. I am greatly touched that you remembered my expressing the wish of having your delightful sermon. It made a deep impression on me, and I am so glad now to be able to read it whenever I like; — and I am sure it will be a great help to me in many ways.

I cannot tell you how gladly I would have accepted your kind invitation to go to Ripon, and see the cathedral under your guidance, but the doctor has forbidden me to go on any long excursions, as the baths are very tiring. In case he should allow me a longer drive before I leave, may I venture to ask whether it would suit you then to see us?

Thanking you again for your sermon, which I am so glad and proud to possess, I remain,
yours very sincerely,
Alix of Hesse.


Above: Alix.


Above: William Boyd Carpenter, Bishop of Ripon.

Alexandra's letter to William Boyd Carpenter, Bishop of Ripon, dated February 13 (Old Style), 1895

Source:


The letter:

13th February 1895 (O. S.)
Anitchkov Palace
Dear Sir,
I have been wanting to write to you for quite some time, but there has been so much to do that I never had a quiet moment. Please accept my very warmest thanks for your kind letter and all the good wishes, which touched me deeply. It is such a pleasure feeling one is not forgotten. With interest I read the nice book you were so good as to send me, my best thanks for it and the charming present. I saw by the papers that you had been at Osborne, and wish I could have heard your sermon. I have often read through the one you so kindly gave me, and each time it did me good.

Now that I am more used to hear the Russian language I can understand the service so much better, and many things have become clear to me and comprehensible which at first rather startled me. The singing is most beautiful and edifying, only I miss the sermons, which are never preached in the Imperial chapels. How much has happened since I last had the pleasure of seeing you, it all seems now like a dream. The poor dear Empress is so brave and touching in her great sorrow, always thinking of others and trying to do good. It was a great comfort to her having her sister the Princess of Wales on such a long visit.

My husband has very much to do, as you can imagine — always seeing his ministers, receiving gentlemen, and having any amount of papers to read through and sign, so that we are not able to see much of each other. He was so glad to make your acquaintance last summer and wishes to be kindly remembered to you now.

I fear in England you have also been suffering a great deal from the cold. — Here the frost is terrible, but we nevertheless go out twice a day for sledging — it is too cold.

Hoping you will keep in good health and sometimes kindly think of me in the far land.
Alix.


Above: Alexandra with Nicholas. Photo courtesy of TatianaZ on Flickr.


Above: William Boyd Carpenter, Bishop of Ripon.

Alexandra's letter to William Boyd Carpenter, Bishop of Ripon, dated December 29, 1902/January 11, 1903

Source:

The Life and Letters of William Boyd Carpenter, Bishop of Ripon, page 260, by H. D. A. Major, 1925


The letter:

Zarskoe Selo.
Dec. 29th, 1902. Jan. 11th, 1903.
DEAR BISHOP,
It was with greatest pleasure I received your very kind letter and book. I thank you most heartily for both. For me it is indeed a great happiness to find old friends have not forgotten me, tho' I live so far away. How much has occurred since we last met! joys and sorrows followed each other in rapid succession. I cannot imagine England without beloved Grandmama. How well I remember sitting by her side, listening to your beautiful sermons — one you kindly gave me at Windsor!

Yes, indeed time flies fast and we have so much to do in our short sojourn on this earth, such manifold tasks for all of us to accomplish. What joy if in any small way we can help another wanderer bear his heavy cross or give him courage to battle bravely on! How many faults we have to try and master! — the hours seem too scarce in which to fulfil all our tasks.

My new country is so vast that there is no lack of work to be done. Thank God the people are very religious, simple-minded, childlike and with boundless love for their Sovereign and faith in him; so that bad elements and influences take a time before rooting amongst them. But much patience and energy are needed to fight against the wave of discontent which has risen and spreads itself all over the world — is not the End soon coming?

Are you never coming over here? I should be so happy to see you and show you our little four-leafed clover. Our little girlies are our joy and happiness, each so different in face and character. May God help us to give them a good and sound education and make them above all brave little Christian soldiers fighting for our Saviour.

Alas, I have not much free time, but when I find a spare moment I sit down to read. I am so fond of Boehme and many of the German and Dutch theosophists of the 15th and 16th Centuries — there are such splendours [in them] and they help one on in life, and make everything so much easier to bear. Can you tell me of any English authors, as I know no old Philosophers?

But my letter is becoming too long. May I hope to hear from you again? It would indeed give me great pleasure.
I remain,
Yrs. sincerely,
ALEXANDRA.


Above: Alexandra. Photo courtesy of TatianaZ on Flickr.


Above: Her daughters Olga, Tatiana, Maria and Anastasia.


Above: William Boyd Carpenter, Bishop of Ripon.

Alexandra's letter to William Boyd Carpenter, Bishop of Ripon, dated January 24/February 7, 1913

Source:

The Life and Letters of William Boyd Carpenter, Bishop of Ripon, page 261, by H. D. A. Major, 1925


The letter:

Zarskoe Selo.
Jan. 24th/Feb. 7th, 1913.
DEAR BISHOP,
I hope you do not mind my calling you by the old familiar name. You must excuse me not having answered your kindest of letters any earlier, but I have been so ill again with my heart — the months of physical and moral strain during our Boy's illness brought on a collapse — for seven years I suffer from the heart and lead the life of an invalid most of the time. Thank God our Darling is getting on so well, he has grown very much and looks so strong, and we trust before long to see him on his legs again running about. It was a terrible time we went through, and to see his fearful suffering was heartrending — but he was of an angelical patience and never complained at being ill; he would only make the sign of the Cross and beg God to help him, groaning and moaning from the pain. In the Orthodox Church one gives children Holy Communion, so twice we let him have that joy, and the poor thin little face with its big suffering eyes lit up with blessed happiness as the Priest approached him with the Holy Sacrament. It was such a comfort to us all and we too had the same joy — without trust and faith implicit in God Almighty's great wisdom and ineffable love, one could not bear the heavy crosses sent one. You too have gone through such terrible sorrow in the loss of your dear son, and I feel it is this which made you think of us in our anguish. God bless you for your loving Christian friendship, deeply valued as coming as an echo out of the past.

Well do I remember your kind talks to me in Windsor and several letters I had the pleasure of receiving from you.

The school of life is indeed a difficult one, but when one tries to live by helping others along the steep and thorny path one's love for Christ grows yet stronger, always suffering and being almost an invalid, one has so much time for thinking and reading and one realises always more and more that this life is but the preparation to yonder real life where all will be made clear to us. My children are growing up so fast and are such real little comforters to us — the elder ones often replace me at functions and go about a great deal with their Father — they are all five touching in their care for me — my family life is one blessed ray of sunshine excepting the anxiety for our Boy. I do wish you could see them some day!

I am sure you regret having left York[shire] after so many years, but hope that your new nomination may be a pleasant one.
God bless you.
In old friendship,
ALEXANDRA.


Above: Alexandra with Alexei at the hunting lodge in Spala during his recovery from his worst hemophilia attack yet.


Above: William Boyd Carpenter, Bishop of Ripon.

Alexandra's letter to William Boyd Carpenter, Bishop of Ripon, dated January 20/February 2, 1915

Source:

The Life and Letters of William Boyd Carpenter, Bishop of Ripon, page 264, by H. D. A. Major, 1925


The letter:

Zarskoe Selo.
Jan. 20th/Feb. 2nd, 1915.
DEAR BISHOP,
As there is an occasion for sending a letter to-day, I hasten to thank you for your kind new year's wishes wh. I heartily reciprocate. You cannot think what pleasure it gave me hearing from you — every word from an old friend in times of great sorrow or anxiety acts as balm upon the heart. We can only trust and pray that this terrible war may soon come to an end — the suffering around is too intense. You, who know all the members of our family so well, can understand what we go through — relations on all sides, one against the other. And the gross disappointment of seeing a country morally sinking into such depths, as Germany has, is bitter to behold. It is all so wonderful! And France, where systematically the government was trying to crush out the influence of Church and Religion, has been obliged to get Priests for the army. Well certainly, prayer and work alone can help one through such times of sorrow. — You kindly asked after our children, thank God they are keeping well; the two eldest daughters help me very much nursing the wounded, dressing their wounds, looking after their families, and so forth. I overtired my heart again, so had to give up my hospital work for some time and miss it sorely. It does one no end of good being with those brave fellows — how resignedly they bear all pain and loss of limbs! "Christ suffered, so we must suffer too" — many such a word do you hear from the lips of a suffering soldier. But I must close my letter now. Kindly remember my dear ones and me in your prayers, and believe me,
Yrs. sincerely,
ALEXANDRA.


Above: Alexandra as a nurse with a couple of her patients at her hospital.


Above: William Boyd Carpenter, Bishop of Ripon.