Source:
GMZ Tsarskoe Selo
Sunday, April 24, 2022
Saturday, April 9, 2022
Alexandra's telegram to Toni Becker, dated February 23, 1895
Source:
Briefe der Zarin Alexandra von Russland an ihre Jugendfreundin Toni Becker-Bracht (2009), edited by Lotte Hoffmann-Kuhnt
The telegram:
= meine allerinnigsten glück- und segenswünsche zu deiner verlobung, grüße deine liebe mutter herzlichst = alix +
English translation (my own):
= my heartiest congratulations and blessings on your engagement, my warmest regards to your dear mother = alix +
Above: Alexandra.
Alexandra's postcard letter to Gretchen von Fabrice, dated October 13, 1899
Source:
Alix und Gretchen: Briefe der Zarin Alexandra Feodorowna an Freiin Margarethe v. Fabrice, aus den Jahren 1891-1914 (2002), published by Heinrich, Count of Spreti
The postcard letter:
With Love from Auntie A.
Above: Alexandra.
Note: Alexandra called herself "Auntie" because she was going to become godaunt to Gretchen's child.
Alexandra's postcard letter to Gretchen von Fabrice, dated October 12, 1899
Source:
Alix und Gretchen: Briefe der Zarin Alexandra Feodorowna an Freiin Margarethe v. Fabrice, aus den Jahren 1891-1914 (2002), published by Heinrich, Count of Spreti
The postcard letter:
All are well & send love A.
Above: Alexandra.
Friday, April 1, 2022
Anna Vyrubova's account of Alexandra's work as a wartime nurse
Sources:
Memories of the Russian Court, pages 107 to 116, by Anna Vyrubova, 1923
The account (I have corrected the punctuation and divided into more paragraphs for easier reading):
... The Empress ... became overnight a changed being. Every bodily ill and weakness forgotten, she began at once an extensive plan for a system of hospitals and sanitary trains for the dreadful roll of wounded, which she knew must begin with the first battle. Her projected chain of hospitals and sanitary centers reached from Petrograd and Moscow to Charkoff and Odessa... The center of her personal activity was fixed in a large group of evacuation hospitals in and around Tsarskoe Selo, and there, after bidding farewell to my only brother, who immediately left for the southern front, I joined the Empress. Already her plans were so far matured that ten sanitary trains, bearing her name and the children's, were in active service, and something like eighty-five hospitals were open, or preparing to open, in Tsarskoe Selo, Peterhof, Pavlovsk, Louga, Sablino, and neighboring towns.
The Empress, her two older daughters, and myself immediately enrolled under a competent woman surgeon, Dr. Gedroiz, as student nurses, spending two hours of every afternoon under theoretical instruction, and the entire hours of the morning in ward work in the hospitals.
For the benefit of those who imagine that the work of a royal nurse is more or less in the nature of play, I will describe the average routine of one of those mornings in which I was privileged to assist the Empress Alexandra Feodorovna and the Grand Duchesses Olga and Tatiana, the two last-named girls of nineteen and seventeen. Please remember that we were then only nurses in training.
Arriving at the hospital shortly after nine in the morning, we went directly to the receiving wards where the men were brought in after having first-aid treatment in the trenches and field hospitals. They had traveled far and were usually disgustingly dirty as well as blood-stained and suffering. Our hands scrubbed in anti-septic solutions, we began the work of washing, cleaning, and bandaging maimed bodies, mangled faces, blinded eyes, all the indescribable mutilations of what is called civilized warfare. These we did under the orders and the direction of trained nurses who had the skill to do the things our lack of experience prevented us from doing.
As we became accustomed to the work, and as both the Empress and Tatiana had extraordinary ability as nurses, we were given more important work. I speak of the Empress and Tatiana especially because Olga within two months was almost too exhausted and too unnerved to continue, and my abilities proved to be more in the executive and organizing than in the nursing end of hospital work. I have seen the Empress of Russia in the operating room of a hospital holding ether cones, handling sterilized instruments, assisting in the most difficult operations, taking from the hands of the busy surgeons amputated legs and arms, removing bloody and even vermin-infected dressings, enduring all the sights and smells and agonies of that most dreadful of all places, a military hospital in the midst of war. She did her work with the humility and the gentle tirelessness of one dedicated by God to a life of ministration. Tatiana was almost as skillful and quite as devoted as her mother, and complained only that on account of her youth she was spared some of the more trying cases.
The Empress was spared nothing, nor did she wish to be. I think I never saw her happier than on the day, at the end of our two months' intensive training, she marched at the head of the procession of nurses to receive the red cross and the diploma of a certificated war nurse.
From that time on, our days were literally devoted to toil. We rose at seven in the morning and very often it was an hour or two after midnight before we sought our beds. The Empress, after a morning in the operating room of one hospital, snatched a hasty luncheon and spent the rest of the day in a round of inspection of other hospitals. Every morning early, I met her in the little Church of Our Lady of Znamenie, where we went for prayers, driving afterwards to the hospitals. On the days when the sanitary trains arrived with their ghastly loads of wounded we often worked from nine until three without stopping for food or rest.
The Empress literally shirked nothing. Sometimes when an unfortunate soldier was told by the surgeons that he must suffer an amputation or undergo an operation which might be fatal, he turned in his bed calling out her name in anguished appeal. "Tsaritsa! Stand near me. Hold my hand, that I may have courage." Were the man an officer or a simple peasant boy, she always answered the appeal. With her arm under his head, she would speak words of comfort and encouragement, praying with him while preparations for the operation were in progress, her own hands assisting in the merciful work of anesthesia. The men idolized her, watched for her coming, reached out bandaged hands to touch her as she passed, smiling happily as she bent over their pillows. Even the dying smiled as she knelt beside their beds, murmuring last words of prayer and consolation.
In the last days of November, 1914, the Empress left Tsarskoe Selo for an informal inspection of hospitals within the radius of her especially chosen district. Dressed in the gray uniform of a nursing sister, accompanied by her older daughters, myself, and a small suite, she went to towns surrounding Tsarskoe Selo and southward as far as Pskoff, staff headquarters, where the younger Grand Duchess Marie Pavlovna was a hospital nurse. From there she proceeded to Vilna, Kovno and Grodno, in which city she met the Emperor and with him went on to Dvinsk.
The enthusiasm and affection with which the Empress was met in all these places and in stations along the route beggars description. A hundred incidents of the journey crowd my memory, each one worth the telling had I space to include them in this narrative. I remember, for example, the remarkable scene in the big fortress of Kovno, where acres of hospital beds were assembled and where the tall figure of the Empress, moving through those interminable aisles, was greeted like the visit of an angel. I never recall that journey without remembering the hospital at Grodno, where a gallant young officer lay dying of his wounds. Hearing that the Empress was on her way to the hospital, he rallied unexpectedly and declared to his nurses that he was determined to live until she came. Sheer will power kept life in the man's body until the Empress arrived, and when, at the door of the hospital, she was told of his dying wish to see her, she hurried first to his bedside, kneeling beside it and receiving his last smile, his last gasping words of greeting and farewell.
After one very fatiguing day our train passed a sanitary train of the Union of Zemstvos moving south. The Empress, who should have been resting in bed at the time, ordered her train stopped that she might visit, to the surprise and delight of the doctors, this splendidly equipped rolling hospital. Another surprise visit was to the estate of Prince Tichkevitch, whose family supported on their own lands a very efficient hospital unit. It was impossible to avoid noticing how in the towns visited by the Empress, dressed as a simple sister of mercy, the love of the people was most manifest. In Grodno, Dvinsk, and other cities where she appeared with the Emperor, there was plenty of enthusiasm, but on those occasions etiquette obliged her to lay aside her uniform and to dress as the wife of the Emperor. Much better the people loved her when she went among them in her nurse's dress, their devoted friend and sister. Etiquette forgotten, they crowded around her, talked to her freely, claimed her as their own. ...
Above: Alexandra with Dr. Vera Gedroitz.
Above: Alexandra with Anna Vyrubova, Olga and Tatiana.
Above: Alexandra and Anna Vyrubova with some of their patients.
Baroness Sophie Buxhoeveden's account of Alexandra's work as a wartime nurse and other war work
Sources:
The Life and Tragedy of Alexandra Feodorovna, pages 190 to 197, by Baroness Sophie Buxhoeveden, 1928
The account:
... The Empress never thought of her health. She braced herself to do more than ordinary human strength could manage. She seemed indefatigable, and her suite could scarcely keep up with her. ...
... At Tsarskoe Selo the Empress continued to work with the same feverish energy. She thought out a whole programme of work based on her experiences of the last war, but greatly changed and improved. She desired to adapt as many palaces as possible for hospital work, feeling that all available space was likely to be needed. The Petroffsky Palace at Moscow had already been turned into a hospital, the "Poteshny" was soon to follow. The Nicholas Palace, the former home of the Grand Duchess Serge, was a sklad. At Tsarskoe Selo, the Catherine Palace, where all the fêtes used to be given, was to be a hospital for officers. In the existing Court hospital the Empress and her daughters began their practical training. Princess Hedroits, a well-known surgeon, was at the head of the hospital. The Empress thought her daughters too young to nurse, and agreed to their request only on the understanding that they and she should go through a course of training. All three went through the usual probationer's course and could be seen every morning working at the hospital. Her Majesty was deft and very quick-handed, and brought to the work, what was far more precious to the patient, her understanding of suffering and her capacity for comfort. Neither mother nor daughters ever shirked the most fatiguing and difficult task. The Grand Duchess Tatiana showed special aptitude for the work. It had a scientific interest for her, apart from its human side.
Both young girls were very enthusiastic, and when they had passed their examinations insisted on going on with their hospital duties. The Empress did the same. It gave her moral satisfaction to feel that she was really working for the wounded, and her work made her forget the anxieties and sorrows that pressed on her. ...
Her soothing influence helped many a wounded man through the agonising moments before an operation, and many a dying soldier passed away happier for her presence. The humblest in her hospital, when he called for the Tsaritsa, would see her at his side. Sometimes she had only just come home when a message from her hospital would tell her that a specially bad case called for her. She would seize the first free moment to rush back to the hospital in her car. She visited the other hospitals at Tsarskoe Selo constantly, and those in St. Petersburg about once a week in that year. ...
Such sad cases always awakened the Empress's sympathy. There were several such unknown, solitary men, from obscure line regiments, who died in her hospital whose last hours were comforted by the Empress. She lost her shyness in her nurses' dress. She felt she was one of many, and to all in the hospital she showed herself in her true light and as her home circle knew her.
Many princesses wore nurses' dresses during the war, and in many cases the feeling that dictated this was admired and understood. To the general public, in Russia, however, and particularly to the uneducated mind, this was not the case. The Empress was advised not to wear nurses' dress when she went about the country during the war. She was unknown in the towns, and the people did not recognise her when she came without the usual apparel, and so the effect on the public of the Imperial visit was lost. ...
...
At the end of 1914 and the beginning of the following year the Empress again had a moment of great popularity. Even people who were not in sympathy with her admitted this: for instance, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, S. D. Sazonoff, spoke of it to me on one occasion when I was lunching at the Foreign Office in 1915. The Empress travelled about, she was seen in public, her work became known. "One must take things personally in hand," she had written to Princess Louis [Victoria] on March 23rd, 1915.
Neither the Red Cross nor the Commissariat could cope with the ever-growing demands of the hospitals for linen and supplies. The Empress arranged for her sklads to co-operate with these institutions, particularly in helping small military hospitals, close to the fighting line. She had sklads at Petrograd, Moscow, Odessa, and Vinnitza, and a whole line of lesser sklads in small towns near the front. Their sphere of activity became very wide. Supply trains and single carriages attached to empty ambulance trains took hospital material from the main sklads up to the fighting line. Automobile squads had been formed in Poland in connection with these trains, most of them being run by members of the great Polish families, who put their private cars at the disposal of the sklads. They did excellent work all through the war. The needs of the moment were what guided the Empress and her assistants. At the head of the Moscow sklad, which directed the whole work, was M. Nicholas de Meck, always called by the Empress "Uncle Meck," and his nephew V. V. Meck. The Petrograd sklads were organised by Princess E. N. Obolensky; Count Apraxine, the Empress's gentleman-in-waiting, was continually going with the trains to the front, to see how everything was working. To villages where there were no baths, the Empress had bath cars sent out, attached to the supply trains. These the soldiers greatly appreciated; they called these cars the "disinsection" cars — an apt mispronunciation of the word! In the winter warm clothing was supplied, as well as linen. In 1915, when the armies were more stationary, she arranged to send field churches. The country in which the fighting was taking place was Catholic, and there were few Orthodox churches. Priests went out with these portable churches, and were a great comfort to many dying men, unable to get into touch with the regimental priests.
New ideas were always working themselves out in the Empress's brain. The days were too short for her. ...
... She looked through the papers her secretary sent her till late at night, and began to work at them again, early in the morning, before going to her hospital. There was sometimes no chance for the Household to see her, except at lunch, and she usually had her ladies on business at that time.
It was evident that such feverish activity could not be kept up long by a woman so delicate as the Empress. Only sheer will-power kept her going during the first five months of the war. She fell ill in December 1914. Heart trouble reappeared, caused by the long standing and the real, hard physical work to which she was, naturally, unaccustomed, and by the motoring, which had always disagreed with her. Added to this was the mental strain of continual contact with suffering, in which she was always spending herself whole-heartedly in helping and comforting others. She roused herself at the time of her friend Mme. Vyrouboff's illness in January 1915, but afterwards had a serious setback, and could not leave the Palace for several weeks. She went on intermittently with her hospital work, being loth to give it up entirely, but she could stand it less and less. She hated to admit that she was beaten by her health, but in 1916 she was completely worn out.
The Empress Alexandra Feodorovna wrote to her sister that she was determined not to be "a mere doll." Every official in her trains near the fighting line could telegraph to her personally, reporting his movements and appealing to her in cases of difficulty. If action had to be taken promptly, the Empress telegraphed herself, stating the case and asking for the necessary measures to be taken as soon as possible. She hated formality and red tape, and she felt that the interests of the wounded should always come before everything else. Personal sympathies or antipathies did not influence her in her work.
Above: Alexandra with some of her patients.
Above: Baroness Sophie Buxhoeveden.
Excerpt from Alix's letter to Nicholas, in which she mentions getting her Scottish terrier puppy Ara, dated May 10, 1894
Sources:
Alexandra Feodorovna: Diaries and Correspondence, volume 2: Engagement and Marriage, 1894, pages 34 to 36, by George Hawkins, 2023
George Hawkins at Letters and writings of Nicholas II and his family on Facebook
The letter excerpt:
... we went to Georgie and May, and from there to Kensington Palace to Aunt Louise who was in bed. She showed me "the" dogs and we laughed over the sundry telegrams, and then Uncle Lorne appeared with a sweet one wh he presented to me as a congratulation. Was it not kind of him? Orchie will no doubt be furious and more so as it is a baby. If only nothing happens to it as usually something has to creatures belonging to me...
The letter in full:
No. 9
Buckingham Palace
May 10th 1894
My own sweet Nicky,
When still in bed this morning, your dear, long letter was brought to me, it is such a joy receiving it, I don't know how often I have not already read through your letters every night before I go to sleep. What pretty verses you wrote for me, I wonder where you got them from.
Well, our theatre was a success and we laughed a great deal, but I felt so lonely without you, and could not therefore enjoyed it too much. Louise, Macduff, Toria and Maud sat in a little box opposite to us and I saw them in fits. I am going to them with Sandra at 5, as they are not going to the drawing room and Thora has to go in their stead. She and I payed Aunt Marie a visite and I greeted smiling Schusäutzehen with joy, but it made a lump come into my throat as it reminded me so painfully of the Schloss at Coburg and I longed for you ever so much. Aunt Marie has kindly asked me to spend a few days with her when Uncle is in Vienna for the Wedding, and Victoria and Ludwig are also going to live with her. It will be delightful.
Then, all in pouring rain mind you, we went to Georgie and May, and from there to Kensington Palace to Aunt Louise who was in bed. She showed me "the" dog, and we laughed over the sundry telegrams, and then Uncle Lorne appeared with a sweet one wh he presented to me as a congratulation. Was it not kind of him? Orchie will no doubt be furious and more so as it is a baby! If only nothing happens to it as usually something has to creatures belonging to me.
Now it has cleared up and the sun is shining, all the people are driving about, dressed up in the drawing room.
I have bought a little cross dear, like Toria's you gave me, and I am going to wear it till we meet, will you take it then and wear it for your own little girl's sake?
Serge photographed Frl. Schneider left yesterday for Darmstadt, so I suppose she will be turning up Sunday or Monday, how industrious I shall have to be then, all teaze me about my Russian lessons, if only I can manage to speak it a little bit decently that you don't roar at me or have to shut your ears.
There — now it is pouring again, as tho' it had never done so before — too aggravating! I just looked out of the window and saw Uncle Christian todling through the mud. I shall send this letter off when I have seen the Cousins, as I may have more to tell you then as I fear this letter is very dull and I don't want to bore my own precious darling boysy dear, мирли мой.
It is pouring in deluges so that the room is getting quite dark, to shocking what the place looks like, the rain being blown across the street and crowds with their umbrellas up and the drawing room carriages all standing up in a row. Poor creatures, they will be like drowned rats in no time if it continues so.
And what has been settled about Xenia and Sandro? Are they still offended that one talks more about you than them? Give them my love, will you! But they ought to be contented as since they are engaged they have not been separated, and we have already over a week and are to continue so over a month — why it is really maddening, grumbling does no good, only it relieves one so.
There's the sun appearing. It [illegible] — regular April showers, too funny. If you were not such an old Spötter, I should tell you that I am reading a most amusing Italian story, but you are a beast and always laugh at poor me. You ought to be ashamed of yourself! I am sure my "Coburg friend" would be more lenient than you, don't you think so too?
Now sweety, I must be off and wash those dirty paws of mine and then lunch with Granny. Here I am again. I spent a delightful hour with the dear Cousins. I enclose a line from Toria. I fear some of the relations have not made very kind remarks to her about yr going to marry, whether she is not angry or jealous, how cruel and tactless to say such things, and then she is afraid I may believe what they say and go against her. There is no fear of it, the dear Child. I am so sorry I have in the last years seen so very little of them, as in consequence they imagined I had changed towards them and no longer cared for them. But you know Granny is funny and always was a little jealous of Aunt Alix and never would allow us to go to her. Uncle and Aunt feel rather grieved, well, so am I as really it would have been nice had I been with them here in town, as then they see no one and we might have had some nice talks. But perhaps when you come we might coax her to let us go away for three days or so to Aunt Alix.
My own sweet love how I long for you, oh, come, come to your little owl who feels so forlorn without you. So Toria gave you those pretty verses you wrote out for me, dear girl. They are dining here to-night, so I shall get a peep of them at least. Old Uncle George is coming also to-night. I am sure he will bellow nicely and say impossible things.
But sweety I must say Goodbye. God bless you, my own precious darling old Boysy.
Ever yr deeply devoted and tenderly loving little Girly
Alix
Many a fond kiss.
Above: Nicholas and Alix.
Above: Alix with Ara.
Notes: "мирли мой" = "my sweet".
Spötter = mocker.
Alix's diary entry on getting her Scottish terrier puppy Ara, dated May 10, 1894
Source:
George Hawkins at Letters and writings of Nicholas II and his family on Facebook
The diary entry:
Thursday May 10
London
Went to see A[unt] Louise who was in bed. U[ncle] Lorne gave me a sweet little scotch terrier "Ara." U[ncle] George dined, and A[unt] Alix and 2 cousins, Lord Roseberry, and Lord Drumlanrig, and one of Granny's ladies.
Above: Alix with Ara.
Pierre Gilliard on Alexandra's work as a wartime nurse for the Red Cross and how the First World War affected her and her family life
Sources:
Treize années à la cour de Russie: Le tragique destin de Nicolas II et de sa famille, pages 100 to 105, by Pierre Gilliard, 1921
Thirteen Years at the Russian Court, pages 123 to 127, by Pierre Gilliard, translated by F. Appelby Holt, 1921
The account:
L'impératrice, dès le début, s'était consacrée aux blessés, et elle avait décidé que les grandes-duchesses Olga Nicolaïévna et Tatiana Nicolaïévna la seconderaient dans cette tâche. Elles suivaient donc toutes trois en cours d'infirmières et passaient chaque jour plusieurs heures à donner leurs soins à ceux qui étaient évacués sur Tsarskoïé-Selo. Sa Majesté, tantôt avec l'empereur, tantôt seule avec ses deux filles aînées, était allée à plusieurs reprises visiter les établissements de la Croix Rouge dans les villes de l'ouest et du centre de la Russie. Sur sa demande, de nombreux hôpitaux militaires avaient été créés et l'on avait organisé des trains sanitaires, spécialement aménagés pour l'évacuation souvent fort lente, vu les distances, des blessés vers l'arrière. Cet exemple avait été suivi, et jamais l'initiative privée ne s'était manifestée avec autant d'élan et de générosité. ...
En décembre, l'empereur partit pour le Caucase et opérait l'armée du sud. Il désirait passer quelque temps au milieu de ces troupes qui luttaient, dans des conditions extrêmement pénibles, contre les divisions turques massées à Moscou l'impératrice et les enfants qui s'étaient portés à sa rencontre. L'empereur visita les écoles militaires et se rendit à plusieurs reprises avec Sa Majesté, le grand-duc héritier et ses sœurs dans les hôpitaux et les infirmeries de la ville.
L'enthousiasme de la population, pendant les cinq jours que nous passâmes alors à Moscou, fut tout aussi vibrant qu'au mois d'août, et les souverains ne quittèrent qu'à regret l'ancienne capitale moscovite, l'empereur pour se rendre au G. Q. G., et le reste de la famille pour rentrer à Tsarskoïé-Sélo. ...
Pendant tout cet hiver, la santé du tsarévitch fut très satisfaisante et les leçons purent suivre leur cours régulier. Au début du printemps [1915] Sa Majesté m'annonça que l'empereur et elle avaient décidé de renoncer pour le moment, vu les circonstances, à donner un vospitatiel à Alexis Nicolaïévitch. Je me trouvai donc, contre mon attente, obligé d'assumer seul pendant un certain temps encore la lourde responsabilité qui m'incombait, et de chercher à remédier de mon mieux aux lacunes de l'éducation du grand-duc héritier. J'avais le sentiment très net qu'il fallait le faire sortir, ne fût-ce que quelques heures par jour, de son milieu habituel, et chercher à le mettre en contact direct avec la vie. ...
... La guerre avait apporté un changement assez notable dans notre existence; la vie déjà austère du palais l'était devenue plus encore. L'empereur était souvent absent. L'impératrice qui, ainsi que ses deux filles aînées, portait constamment l'uniforme d'infirmière, partageait son temps entre ses visites aux hôpitaux et les nombreuses occupations que lui valaient les organisations de secours aux blessés. Elle s'était beaucoup fatiguée au début de la guerre. Elle s'était dépensée sans compter, avec la fougue et l'ardeur qu'elle apportait à tout ce qu'elle entreprenait. Bien que sa santé fût déjà très fortement éprouvée, elle faisait preuve d'un ressort étonnant. Il semblait qu'elle puisât un réconfort très grand dans l'accomplissement de la belle œuvre qu'elle avait entreprise: elle y trouvait à la fois une satisfaction à son besoin de dévouement, et l'oubli des angoisses et des appréhensions que lui causait — même dans ses périodes d'accalmie — la maladie du tsarévitch. ...
English translation (by Holt; I have corrected a typo):
The Czarina had devoted herself to the cause of the wounded from the start, and she had decided that the Grand-Duchesses Olga Nicolaïevna and Tatiana Nicolaïevna should assist her in her task. All three of them took a course in nursing, and passed several hours of every day caring for the wounded who were sent to Tsarskoïe-Selo. Her Majesty, sometimes with the Czar and sometimes alone with her two daughters, paid several visits to the Red Cross establishments in the towns of Western and Central Russia. At her suggestion, many military hospitals had been organised, as well as ambulance trains specially fitted up for the evacuation of the wounded to the rear, a process which was often very slow owing to the immense distances. Her example had been followed, and private initiative had never been displayed with the same enthusiasm and generosity. ...
In December the Czar paid a visit to the Caucasus, where the Southern Army was operating. He was anxious to spend a little time with the troops who were fighting under the most trying conditions against the Turkish divisions massed on the Armenian frontier. On his return he joined the Czarina at Moscow, and the children also were brought there to meet him. The Czar visited the military schools and with Her Majesty, his son and daughters, several times made the rounds of the hospitals and nursing establishments in that city.
During the five days we spent at Moscow the enthusiasm of the people had been every bit as great as in August, and it was with real regret that Their Majesties left the ancient capital of Muscovy, the Czar leaving for G. H. Q. and the other members of the family returning to Tsarskoïe-Selo. ...
Throughout this winter the health of the Czarevitch had been very satisfactory, and his lessons could proceed along regular lines. In the early spring [1915] Her Majesty informed me that the Czar and she had decided, in view of the circumstances, to dispense with the appointment of a vospitatiel for Alexis Nicolaïevitch for the moment. Contrary to my expectations, I thus found myself compelled to shoulder the immense burden of responsibility alone for some time longer, and to find some means of filling up the gaps in the Heir's education. I had a strong feeling that it was essential that he should get away from his ordinary environment, even if it were only for a few hours a day, and try to establish contact with real life. ...
... The war had already brought some very remarkable change in our life at the palace. It had always been austere, and now became even more so. The Czar was away a good deal. The Czarina and her two elder daughters almost always wore the costume of a nurse, and divided their time between visits to the hospitals and the innumerable duties arising out of their work for the relief of the wounded. The Czarina was very tired even when the war began. She had spent herself without counting the consequences, devoting herself with the enthusiasm and ardour she brought to everything to which she set her hand. Although her health was severely shaken, she displayed remarkable physical elasticity. She seemed to derive comfort and strength from the accomplishment of the splendid task which she had undertaken. It was as if she found that it satisfied her craving for self-devotion and enabled her to forget the poignant anxiety and apprehension that the Czarevitch's illness caused, even in its inactive periods. ...
Above: Alexandra.
Above: Alexandra with Alexei.
Above: Pierre Gilliard.
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