At the time of Edward VII’s funeral, Queen Ena was living through an exceptionally bleak period. She was again expecting a child, but weeks before her accouchement, Ena, with three pregnancies behind her, sensed something was seriously wrong. It soon became clear that her unborn baby had died. Ena was advised to complete her pregnancy so as not to hamper her ability to bear more children. In May 1910, she delivered a dead baby boy, who was named Fernando. Queen Maria Cristina sent a telegram to her son in London, advising him of the latest family tragedy:
With profound sorrow I am letting you know that at one thirty Ena gave birth to a dead son, though very sad, thanks to God the labor and delivery lasted only four hours.…Ena sends her best love and all her thoughts are with you[,] you can be completely calm over Ena’s state of health…tell everything to your mother-in-law[,] I embrace you affectionately[,] Mama.20
The day after the dead Infante Fernando was born, his body was taken by train to King Philip II’s sprawling and austere creation, the forbidding compound known as El Escorial. There, Ena’s dead son was laid to rest amongst his ancestors, while his distraught mother recuperated from her heartbreaking ordeal back in Madrid. None of Ena’s other royal cousins had to endure the trauma of carrying to term and then giving birth to a stillborn child. That grievous distinction belonged solely to Ena. But like some curse harassing her at intervals, another misfortune struck unexpectedly within two years of Fernando’s birth. This time it fell on Ena’s healthy four-year-old son, Jaime.
The Infante Jaime was a normal child who came to be a close companion of his older brother. Together, Jaime and Alfonsito were a delightful pair, with the blond Alfonsito so obviously taking after his mother while the dark-haired Jaime resembled his father. In health, Jaime was everything his brother was not—the dreaded hemophilia being absent. If the heir was sickly, then at least “the spare” was robust.
However, tragedy struck. The boy was felled with acute pain in his ears. The diagnosis was double mastoiditis, requiring an immediate operation. The procedure went badly, and the auditory bones broke, causing Ena’s second son to become a deaf-mute.
Missy’s life in Bucharest—after weathering the Peasants’ Revolt of 1907 and finding in Prince Barbo Stirbey a man to admire and love—settled down to a degree of peace she had not known in years. In 1909, the crown princess gave birth to another daughter, Princess Ileana. This child, who would come to be Marie’s favorite, had none of the characteristics of her older children. So different was Ileana from her siblings that it almost seemed as if the dark-haired girl had been sired by someone other than the crown prince. And the only man who might fall into this category was none other than Prince Barbo Stirbey
One of Queen Marie’s biographers, Hannah Pakula, has concluded that this was more fantasy than fact. In his correspondence with Marie, Stirbey’s tone toward Ileana never differed from that toward her siblings. But when he refers to Prince Mircea, the last of Marie’s children (b. 1913), Pakula believes that “there is a marked difference in tone” in Barbo’s letters; and so concludes that Mircea was Barbo’s child.21
As he grew older, Alexei’s mischievous personality continued to endear him to many who came into contact with the boy. But despite the ebullience and the handsome features, which on a good day made the tsarevitch appear the picture of health, his was a body that could—and did—malfunction badly. The Grim Reaper kept a covetous watch on Alexei Nicolaevitch, and the uncertainty kept the boy’s mother on tenterhooks.
In order to prevent the young tsarevitch from getting into serious harm, two burly sailors of the Imperial Navy, Derevenko and Nagorny, were assigned to keep watch. And not far off was the omnipresent family physician, kindly and solicitous Dr. Eugene Botkin. But for all the precautions Nicholas and Alexandra took to protect their son, they did little to calm a mother’s frazzled nerves. The extent of Alexandra Feodorovna’s all-consuming preoccupation was best summed up by a family friend who recorded that “She could never feel for an hour that he was safe.22
Of all the burdens she had had to endure since her arrival in Russia, the fate of her son—“that Child of many Prayers,”23 “the Empress’s favourite child”24— hung heaviest on Alix. To her great credit, she accepted her son’s incurable illness without venting her rage at God. Instead, she found from God the strength to face Alexei’s hemophilia. “Life brings us sorrows and trials without end,” confessed the tsarina to a friend once, “but all is for the best, and God gives one strength to bear one’s heavy cross, and go on fighting.”25
Increasingly, however, Alix’s attentions and actions became shaped by her son’s hemophilia. And owing to the nature of the illness, it was only a matter of time before a frightening incident erupted.
Fifteen
“MAMMA, HELP ME!”
PIERRE GILLIARD CAPTURED WHAT IT MUST HAVE BEEN LIKE FOR the helpless tsarina to watch as her son suffered through a life-threatening hemophilia attack:
Think of the tortures of that mother, an impotent witness of her son’s martyrdom in those hours of mortal anguish—a mother who knew that she herself was the cause of his sufferings, that she had transmitted to him the terrible disease against which human science was powerless! Now I understood the secret tragedy of her life! How easy it was to reconstruct the stages of that long Calvary1
Gilliard found the boy to be “sensitive to suffering in others just because he had already suffered so much himself.”2 The tsarina shared this characteristic, once writing that it was her “daily prayer, for years already, that God should just send me the sorrowing, and give me the possibility to be a help to them through His infinite mercy”3 This mutual sympathy served to create an even closer bond between mother and son.
With doctors and medical science proving little help to eight-year-old Alexei, the tsarina turned to Rasputin. Confident in his position with the tsarina, the “monk” from Siberia grew emboldened in his carnal pursuits with women, leading to louder criticisms of Alexandra. In her desperate mind, these accusations against Rasputin amounted to the vilification of a saint. She once told Dr. Botkin that “saints have always been caluminated [sic].”4 For their meddling when it came to Rasputin, Alexandra froze out those who had been close to her. The Montenegrin grand duchesses were henceforth ignored; and the tsarina’s one-time confessor was summarily exiled to the Crimea. The saddest estrangement involved Alix’s own sister, Ella. They would never enjoy the same closeness, thanks to Alexandra’s stubborn refusal to be rid of Rasputin.
Emboldened by the hold he had over the imperial couple, Rasputin made no secret of his high standing at Tsarskoe Selo. He boasted that he enjoyed the sexual favors of countless women and even boldly embellished his stories by bragging how he kissed the tsarina. As for Alexandra, she remained completely faithful to Tsar Nicholas.
Anxiety over the growing influence of Rasputin at court grew quickly after 1910. Peter Stolypin, the prime minister and interior minister, ordered an investigation of the notorious womanizing staretz. Stolypin presented the damning results to the tsar, who then asked Stolypin to meet Rasputin personally. Stolypin duly met with the staretz, who promptly tried to hypnotize the prime minister. Stolypin recorded how “I began to feel an indescribable loathing for this vermin sitting opposite me. Still, I did realize that the man possessed great hypnotic power, which was beginning to produce a fairly strong moral impression on me, though certainly one of repulsion. I pulled myself together and addressing him roughly, told him that on the strength of the evidence in my possession I could annihilate him by prosecuting him as a sectarian.”5
But in spite of mounting evidence against Rasputin, the tsar knew his hands were tied. When, in 1911, Stolypin warned Nicholas II of the destructive impact Rasputin was having on the imperial couple as far as people’s conceptions were concerned, the tsar replied: “Perhaps everything you say is true. But I must ask you never to speak to me again about Rasputin. In any case, I can do nothing at all about it. Well aware how dependent his wife was on Ras
putin, Nicholas understood that it was inconceivable to remove the man. The tsar once let it slip, “Better one Rasputin than ten fits of hysterics a day”7
In the course of the heated debates swirling about Rasputin, another one of those violent spasms in Russia’s history erupted. The victim this time was none other than Peter Stolypin. While attending a performance of the Tale of Tsar Sultan by Rimsky-Korsakov at the Kiev Opera House, Stolypin was shot in the presence of the tsar and his daughters, Olga and Tatiana. The wounded man, blood oozing out of his uniform, turned toward the tsar in the royal box and made the sign of the Cross. Stolypin died four days later.
The minister’s death had rid Rasputin of one of his enemies. But Stolypin’s replacement, Count Vladimir Kokovtsov, was equally against Tsarina Alexandra’s favorite, as were the members of the Duma. Summoning Kokovtsov for an audience, the dowager empress questioned him about Rasputin. Kokovtsov recalled how Empress Marie “wept bitterly and promised to speak to the Tsar.” But then “mamma, help me!” she added, “my poor daughter-in-law does not perceive that she is ruining both the dynasty and herself. She sincerely believes in the holiness of an adventurer, and we are powerless to ward off the misfortune which is sure to come.”8
Empress Marie was right. By the end of 1912, no one could persuade Alexandra that Rasputin was anything short of a miracleworker; for a terrifying drama unfolded which, by its conclusion, convinced Alexandra Feodorovna that Rasputin was the sole effective conduit between Alexei and God.
Spala, the imperial hunting lodge set amid forests in Poland, was a tranquil place. But in the autumn of 1912, it became one of anguished nightmare for Alix. The tsarevitch fell seriously ill as the result of a fall. Soon enough, a large swelling emerged on Alexei’s left thigh and groin; doctors also found a tumor that was turning septic. An operation was necessary, but because of Alexei’s hemophilia, this life-saving procedure was considered too dangerous. In no time, a life and death struggle unfolded. The dreaded hemophilia was claiming the life of Alexandra’s only son.
By 21 October, all seemed hopeless. The tsarevitch’s temperature had reached nearly 40 degrees Celsius. Inside the hunting lodge, blood-curdling screams could be heard. The boy, wracked by excruciating pain, pleaded to be freed from his misery. Everyone at Spala during those terrifying days was haunted by his anguished cries. Workers went about the large house with their ears muffled. But no such respite was allowed his horrified mother.
As Alexei’s abdomen filled up with blood, the boy’s agony multiplied. So moved were the workers and soldiers on the estate that they begged to hold a daily Te Deum in the open, where they were joined by local peasants. Alexandra sat for hours on end by her son’s side; his face was “absolutely bloodless, drawn and seamed with suffering, while his almost expressionless eyes rolled back in his head.” When the tsar came into the room, “seeing his boy in this agony and hearing his faint screams of pain, the poor father’s courage completely gave way and he rushed, weeping bitterly, to his study”9
Nicholas admitted to his mother: “I was hardly able to stay in the room, but had of course to take turns with Alix for she was exhausted by spending whole nights by his bed.” For four agonizing days, Alexei’s condition worsened. His father recalled how “the poor darling suffered intensely, the pains came in spasms and recurred every quarter of an hour.” As his temperature shot up, the tsarevitch fell into a delirium. Exhausted by lack of sleep, Alexei, according to his father, had only enough strength to moan repeatedly: “O Lord, have mercy upon me.”10 “In one of his rare moments of consciousness, [he] said to his mother: ‘When I am dead build me a little monument of stones in the wood.’ “11
Pierre Gilliard, who saw the “distracted and terror-stricken look”12 on Alix’s face, understood what the tsarina was undergoing during those tragic days at Spala. When her son, in the rare times of lucidity, begged her: “Mamma, help me!” the tsarina felt completely helpless, knowing all she could do was wipe his brow, whisper comforting words, and pray. Worse was when Alexei asked his helpless mother: “When I am dead, it will not hurt anymore, will it?”13
Twice at Spala, the end seemed imminent. Yet Alexei fought on. Resigned to their son’s fate, the tsar and tsarina agreed that their subjects should be forewarned of the boy’s imminent death. Two bulletins were issued, a day apart, preparing all of Russia for the news that the tsarevitch had died. In the meantime, the last rites were performed.
Alexandra made one last desperate attempt to save her son’s life. This time she turned to Rasputin, hoping that he might be able to effect a miracle. The exhausted tsarina asked Anna Viroubova to send a telegram to Rasputin, who was then at his village in western Siberia. It was an act of sheer desperation; Viroubova said that “Rasputin was in disfavor with the imperial couple at the time, so they did not turn immediately to the peasant for a cure, as they had for earlier hemophiliac episodes.”14
When the reply arrived, it was all the tsarina could have hoped for. Looking “pale and emaciated,” but wearing a smile, Alexandra announced “in a calm voice” to a number of individuals, including Sergei Sazanov, Russia’s foreign minister: “I received a telegram from Father Grigory and it has reassured me completely.” Rasputin had told her, “God has seen your tears and heard your prayers. Grieve no more! Your son will live.”15 “The little one will not die. Do not allow the doctors to bother him too much.” Sure enough, as if on cue, Alexei began to show signs of recovery. It was almost immediate. Grand Duchess Olga, who was no fan of Rasputin, recalled how, incredibly, “within an hour my nephew was out of danger.”17
Tsarina Alexandra was not the only one who found Rasputin’s powers astonishing. Even the tsarevitch’s doctors were at a loss as to how their patient could recover so remarkably after the “intervention” of the staretz. The morning after the telegram arrived from Pokrovskoie, the first words the doctors assembled at Spala uttered to A. A. Mossolov, head of the Court Chancellery, were: “The haemorrhage has stopped.”18 The most preeminent physician in Russia, Dr. S. P. Fedorov, was among the professionals attending Alexei. He too was at a loss as to what happened. When Grand Duchess Olga recalled a conversation she had later that year with Professor Fedorov, Olga remembered his admitting that “the recovery was wholly inexplicable from a medical point of view.”19 Fedorov, who, had studied “all the available research material on the disease…was convinced that medical science was helpless.” He once admitted that the tsarina could not be blamed if she saw Rasputin as some sort of miracle man; for as Fedorov said, “Rasputin would come in, walk up to the patient, look at him and spit. The bleeding would stop in no time…. How could the empress not trust Rasputin after that?”20
The secret or source of Rasputin’s ability to “cure” the tsarevitch has been examined relentlessly. There appears to be no real consensus as to how he came about his “miracles.” Explanations range from coincidence at Rasputin’s timing to mysterious Tibetan herbs used on the imperial family to palace accomplices effecting his work, and also to his ability to calm the tsarina and so, by extension, Alexei. Then there is the theory that some sort of hypnotic ability might have been the root of his “powers.” Rasputin’s magnetic eyes play a major role in promoting this idea. But there is little doubt that people privy to the imperial family’s troubles were mostly at a loss to explain how the monk from Siberia managed to pull off his conjuring tricks.
For the tsarina, the more she saw what Rasputin was capable of doing where her son’s life was concerned, the more she could not shake off the thought that here surely was a man sent by God to help her precious boy. Olga stated simply that “never did my brother or Alicky believe that the man was endowed with any supernatural powers. They saw him as a peasant whose deep faith turned him into an instrument for God to use—but only in the case of Alexis.” As Olga tartly pointed out, “Alicky suffered terribly from neuralgia and sciatica, but I never heard that the Siberiak helped her.”21 The imperial couple’s acceptance of Rasputin’s abilities was not based
on a hysterical or excessive mystical obsession but precisely on what Olga said—that he was an instrument of God. This was very much in keeping with the framework of the Russian Orthodox Church, which taught that “certain men had been blessed by God with an ability to heal others.” As one biographer notes, “Both Nicholas and Alexandra believed that this was possible, and their acceptance of Rasputin’s apparent miracles was merely an extension of official church teaching.”22 And another points out that Rasputin “must be given credit for the consistency of his success, while the occasion on which he saved the boy’s life, when Aleksey was lying in a Polish hunting lodge and Rasputin was in Siberia, poses a powerful challenge to rational belief.”23 As for the tsarina, Alexandra’s relief was intermingled with wonder: “It is not the first time that the Staretz has saved his life.”24
After Spala, Tsarina Alexandra wrote one of her most poignant and revealing letters, to her old friend, the Bishop of Ripon:
I have been so ill again with my heart—the months of phisical [sic] & moral strain during our Boy’s illness brought on a collapse—for some years I suffer from the heart & lead the life [of] an invalid most of the time. Thank God our Darling is getting on so well he has grown very much & looks so strong, & we trust before long to see him on his legs again running about.
Born to Rule: Five Reigning Consorts, Granddaughters of Queen Victoria Page 25