by Coryne Hall
The war had tied Fokine to the Imperial Theatres and increased his dependence on Mathilde. In the autumn of 1915 she was rehearsing his new ballet Eros, in which at the age of forty-three she created the role of the young girl. Partnered by Vladimiroff, she first performed this ballet at a charity gala in aid of refugee children on 20 November 1915 and it proved so successful that it was taken into the Maryinsky repertoire. Fokine had neither forgotten nor forgiven Mathilde’s earlier opposition to his innovations. According to Joseph Kschessinsky, Fokine ‘conceived the role [of the young girl] in a satirical spirit’, but Mathilde did not realise this. She therefore danced in her usual manner and fell into the trap set by Fokine to punish her, his ‘wolf in sheep’s clothing’.23
‘Vladimiroff, who danced with passion, inspired me more than anyone else,’ Mathilde said.24 He may have inspired more than her dancing. It seems that Mathilde was a little in love with him. He ‘received the highest salary ever paid to a first dancer and was granted more privileges than Nijinsky ever had at the Imperial Theatre,’ recalled Alexandra Danilova. ‘Kschessinska even had a special dressing room built for him.’ Many years later Mathilde called him ‘definitely’ her favourite partner. ‘Whilst most dancers were self-contained soloists, Vladimiroff danced real love duets with his partners, creating a sublime dialogue,’ she added.25
Five days later Mathilde was dancing Swan Lake. Grand Dukes Andrei, Boris and Michael were in the audience but Michael’s wife Natasha was obliged by etiquette to sit in a separate box. Such was the fate, Mathilde may have noted, of a morganatic wife.
Meanwhile the Empress was back on the warpath. On 9 January she wrote to Nicholas from Tsarskoe Selo:
Sergei goes to the Headquarters soon, I hear – better not keep him there long, as he is always a gossip, alas, and such a sharp, criticising [sic] tongue and his manners before strangers are not edifying – and then there are very unclear, unclean stories about her [Kschessinska] & bribes etc which all speak about, & the artillery is mixed up into it…26
A special commission investigated the Artillery Department and in January 1916 Sergei ‘resigned’ on the grounds of ill health. He was ordered to Stavka as Field Inspector-General of Artillery where, although he had daily contact with the Tsar, he seems to have done little more than grow a vegetable garden. The scandal over the bribes had not died down and Rodzianko feared it would adversely affect the dynasty if it became public knowledge. Sergei now spent nearly all his time at Stavka and in private letters became more cautious in an attempt to distance himself from Kschessinska, who had used him ‘in her quest for financial profit’.27
Soon rumours were current in Petrograd that a scheme was being drafted at Stavka ‘for the establishment of a dictatorship in the rear to deal with all matters concerning internal government and war supplies’. The idea emanated from Sergei, who would naturally be dictator himself. Rodzianko was appalled, seeing the appointment of a man like the Grand Duke as ‘tantamount to the ruin of the whole war supply organisation. He would again be surrounded by his former associates and collaborators, and nothing but ill would come of this to the army and the whole country.’ Rodzianko added that if the Grand Duke did not cease his intrigues in the sphere of munitions supplies, his activities would be exposed in the Duma. ‘I have more than sufficient evidence concerning them in my possession.’28
These activities also involved Kschessinska.
Mathilde had now been dancing on the Imperial stage for twenty-five years and at her request received a benefit performance of Le Talisman on 21 February 1916, in the presence of Grand Dukes Sergei, Dimitri, Boris and Andrei. Although the Tsar had returned from Stavka he was not at the theatre. The performance netted the enormous sum of £3,200 which was sent to the Imperial Theatres Society, of which Grand Duke Sergei was President, for the aid of the families of artists who had been called up. Mathilde had to repeat her famous solo five times. The usual Imperial present for twenty-five years’ service was a small diamond-studded lyre, the emblem of the Imperial Theatre School. On this occasion Mathilde omitted to say what she received.
Although Mathilde had issued a statement to the press requesting no flowers, a vast number of bouquets were handed up to the stage. ‘She deserves them!’ was Vova’s retort to a lady who complained at this extravagance in wartime.29 From the public Mathilde received a massive crystal wine cup in a solid silver setting, together with a solid silver ladle. It was one of the last great evenings of the Imperial ballet. A critic described her talent as ‘like an indestructible mausoleum’.30
On 17 April Mathilde finally achieved her ambition to dance Giselle. The occasion was a performance in aid of one of Grand Duchess Marie Pavlovna’s charities. Giselle had been danced with spectacular success by Pavlova and there was great interest in how Kschessinska would handle it at the age of almost forty-four. The box office receipts were high, probably because of the public’s curiosity. The Grand Duchess, apparently pleased with the takings, sent Mathilde her signed photograph. Others were more critical, saying Mathilde was unsuited to the role.
The French Ambassador Maurice Paleologue was also unimpressed. ‘The archaic character of the … [ballet] … is heightened by the defects and qualities of the principal interpreter,’ he wrote. ‘Kschessinska is entirely without charm, feeling or poetry; but her formal and cold style, the tireless vigour of her pivoting, the mechanical precision of her entrechats and the giddy agility of her pirouettes make all the enthusiasts wild with delight.’ One of the balletomanes later explained that, in contrast to the ‘horrible modern ballets’, these old works presented a picture ‘of what Russian society was, and ought to be. Order, punctiliousness, symmetry, work well done everywhere.’31 The Ambassador preferred Karsavina.
During the spring of 1916 Mathilde decided to take presents to the soldiers at the front. Accompanied by Pierre Vladimiroff and Alexander Viktorov, a member of the Red Cross, she set out by train for a sector of the Minsk district.
The hotel there, with its dimly lit rooms and bedrooms almost empty of furniture, made a depressing impression. The whole place appeared neglected, dirty and primitive. The following day a car took them to headquarters. Although the front was calm, evidence of recent fighting was all around and the wooden crosses on newly made graves, surrounded by shell-holes and mangled trees, made a sad contrast to the spring sunshine.
The commander put his own house at their disposal. Although more like a hut it had two comfortable rooms, one for Mathilde and the other for her companions. Then they distributed the presents and were taken to the long dining-room where supper was served. Mathilde was astonished at the abundant and varied number of dishes, and was assured that virtually anything could be obtained. The hut was open along one side, with a projecting floor covered by a roof and enough space for an orchestra. When one of the soldiers danced a spirited ‘cakewalk’ Mathilde regretted having neither music nor costume to perform her Russian dance. It was naturally not in her nature to improvise.
Early next morning they were driven to the front line, past barbed-wire defences, a heavily camouflaged battery and a concealed long-range gun. Finally they reached a church damaged by enemy fire, but as the Germans did not fire between noon and 2 o’clock the officer told Mathilde they were safe. From behind the church she could see a German soldier on the opposite bank of the river but the commander absolutely forbade an excursion to the advanced posts to see the German trenches.
Early in the afternoon they set out on the return journey to Headquarters, arriving before dark. They left Minsk that night and two days later Mathilde was back at Strelna.
In the autumn, although still very involved with her hospital, family matters were on Mathilde’s mind. Ali had been suffering from ill health and in February 1916 he and Julie went to Sevastopol where he had six weeks’ treatment at the Romanov Institute. Now he was once again receiving treatment in Sevastopol for what he called a ‘creeping’ feeling down the left side of his body. In October Philippe Ledé died a
fter a long illness. This was a shock to all the family as Fili had felt so much better when he visited them at Peterhof earlier that year. On top of all this, Slava, who was in Lausanne, had been called up. He had left Russia as a child because of poor health and his godfather, Grand Duke Sergei, now wrote to the Russian Embassy in Geneva asking that he not be sent back to Russia. Medical certificates were sent to certify to his illness and he evaded the call-up.32
The situation in Russia was going from bad to worse. ‘The Emperor reigns: but it is the Empress who governs – under Rasputin’s guidance,’ a dismissed minister told the French Ambassador. Day after day the Empress wrote hectoring, almost hysterical letters to the Tsar at the front, full of Rasputin’s ideas on everything from taxes to food supplies. Soon she was nagging Nicholas to dismiss this or that minister who was opposed to Rasputin, the autocracy, or both. In their place were appointed nonentities favoured by Rasputin. Twelve ministers were replaced in thirteen months, in what became known as ‘Ministerial Leapfrog’. Alexandra and Rasputin then turned their attention to the military situation. The Empress faithfully transmitted Rasputin’s instructions to the Tsar at Stavka but when the situation failed to improve the outcry against Niemka, ‘the German woman’, grew louder.33
Mathilde never saw Rasputin even from a distance but she had heard the gossip and considered it ‘harmful and undesirable’ that he should be on such intimate terms with members of the Imperial family. Details of the Tsarevich’s haemophilia were unknown at the time (even the Tsar’s sisters only received definite confirmation of it in 1912)34, so most people assumed that Rasputin’s hold over the Empress was sexual.
The arms scandal bubbled under the surface. Sukhomlinov was under arrest in the SS Peter and Paul Fortress, facing charges of peculation and treason against the State. ‘Au fond, to save Kschessinska & S.M. [Sergei] he also sits there,’ Alexandra wrote to Nicholas, ‘and one dare not bring up that subject before law on account of those two – even Andrei Vladimirovich said as much [to the Assistant Minister of War] … tho’ he is Kschessinska’s lover.’35 As usual the Tsar made no comment, but the Empress resumed the attack in December. ‘Why should he [Sukhomlinov] suffer and not … Sergei who on account of her [Kschessinska] has just as much fault.’36
She also complained about the immoral behaviour of Boris and Andrei, asking why the latter had been hanging around Petrograd for two years – ‘is there no nomination for him anywhere out at the war – active?’37 Perhaps she had heard that since the summer of 1915 Andrei, Boris and Dimitri had been frequent guests for lunch at Grand Duke Michael Alexandrovich’s Gatchina home, where they were strongly critical of the Empress. Andrei was at the front by October, returning in mid-December after two months’ absence.
In December 1916 Mathilde reluctantly came to the decision to close her hospital. There had been a rush of charitable offers in 1914 when people expected the war to be short. As hostilities dragged on, people became disgruntled and wanted the army authorities to take over.38 Although Mathilde was a wealthy woman, with or without Grand Ducal help the cost of maintaining such an establishment for two years, with no end yet in sight, was undoubtedly high. In her memoirs she merely explained that the wounded were now gathered together in the more distant provinces, which the government said were more accessible than Petrograd. Consequently, the hospitals in the capital were hardly used. Mathilde had recently entertained a party of convalescents to lunch at Strelna. After a final Te Deum she now went round saying goodbye to the men, who would be dispersed to various other hospitals. The cook joined Grand Duke Sergei’s staff at Stavka, as did Dr Maak who had looked after Andrei in St Moritz.
The Imperial family were by now united in the belief that the throne must be rid of Rasputin’s influence, thereby hoping that the ascendancy of the Empress would also be ended. A family council was held at Andrei’s palace but some right-wing monarchists decided to take matters into their own hands.
On the night of 16/17 December Rasputin was murdered in the Youssoupovs’ Moika Palace in Petrograd by a group of conspirators who included Prince Felix Youssoupov (husband of the Tsar’s niece Princess Irina), and Grand Duke Dimitri Pavlovich. Shortly afterwards Felix was banished to one of his country estates, and Dimitri was exiled to the Persian front. Even though the Grand Duke was in poor health the Tsar refused the Imperial family’s joint plea for clemency, replying icily that murder is murder and it was not only Dimitri who was implicated. Dimitri’s banishment was a terrible shock to Mathilde and Andrei – but more was to follow.
On 1 January 1917 Grand Duke Nicholas Michaelovich was exiled to Grushevka, his Ukrainian estate, for supporting Dimitri and speaking out against the Empress. ‘His departure left everyone stunned,’ Andrei recorded.39
The Grand Dukes were discussing plots and counter-plots. Prince Gabriel gave a supper for his mistress Nina Nestorovska. Grand Duke Boris, Prince Igor ‘and a squad of elegant courtesans’ were among the guests, recorded Paleologue. ‘During the evening the only topic of conversation was the conspiracy, the most favourable moment for the outbreak etc. And all this with the servants moving about, harlots looking on and listening, gypsies singing and the whole company bathed in the aroma of Moët & Chandon brut imperial which flowed in streams!’40
There were meetings, including one in Andrei’s palace convened by Grand Duke Paul. They were all agreed that the Emperor must be dethroned. Some wanted a regency on behalf of Alexei, but they could not agree on who should be regent. One observer concluded that the Grand Dukes were only ‘playing at revolution’.41
The nucleus of the plot was the Vladimir Palace, where Grand Duchess Marie Pavlovna had not forgotten how close her sons were to the throne. After lunch one January day she became more and more excited about the Empress’s interference in affairs of state. Finally she told Rodzianko that the Empress must be ‘annihilated’,42 a statement which amounted to treason.
On 17 January Mathilde took part in the benefit performance for the Maryinsky Opera chorus. The opera chosen was Fenella. It was the first production of this work on the Imperial stage (although Mathilde had performed it successfully at the Conservatoire). The opera was set against the background of an uprising against a Spanish viceroy in seventeenth-century Italy and one of the scenes portrayed a revolutionary mob burning down the palace. ‘Mala was wonderful and the public very enthusiastic,’ Andrei wrote in his diary.43 Yet backstage everyone felt uneasy. Fenella was considered to bring bad luck.
While the family hesitated the Tsar, for once, acted. On 8 January Nicholas told Miechen that ‘in their own interests’ she, Cyril and Andrei should leave the capital for a few weeks. The Grand Duchess left for Kislovodsk, a health spa in the Caucasus, saying ‘I’ll not return until all is finished here’. Cyril went to Archangel on a tour of inspection and after a short, courteous audience with Nicholas, Andrei joined his mother, officially to take the cure.44
Andrei arrived at Kislovodsk on 21 January, happy to leave the chaos of Petrograd which was, quite literally, making him ill. When he and Mathilde were reunited it would be under vastly different circumstances.
The winter of 1917 was bitterly cold in Petrograd. In temperatures of 35–40 degrees below zero the railways, essential for bringing food to the cities and supplies to the front, froze to a standstill as the boilers burst. Factories were closed through lack of fuel and a shortage of food in the capital pushed prices to an exorbitant level. Rumours of bread rationing provoked panic buying and women queued for hours in the snow – cold, hungry and disillusioned.
At the height of the winter, when even the British Ambassador was unable to obtain coal, four army lorries were seen outside Kschessinska’s mansion. They were filled with sacks of fuel, which soldiers were busy unloading. The British and French Ambassadors were among the crowd of dumbfounded spectators. ‘You haven’t the same claim as Mme Kschessinska to the attentions of the Imperial authorities,’ Paleologue told his colleague. This favour even extended to her staff. When M.S. Semen
ov, who had been Mathilde’s chauffeur for three years, was called up for active service in the army in 1916, she managed to obtain for him a prestigious place at Stavka with Sergei.45
Feeling against Mathilde and her extravagances was running high. The Chief of the 4th Petrograd Police District, General Vladislav Halle, who Mathilde knew well, warned her to leave Petrograd. She took no notice.
On 2 February, after twenty-seven years, Mathilde gave what was destined to be her last performance on the stage of the Maryinsky. With Fokine as Harlequin, she danced Columbine in Carnival, followed by the first act of Don Quixote, at a charity performance in aid of the Disabled Soldiers’ Workhouse, one of the Empress’s charities.
The atmosphere in Petrograd was becoming more and more uneasy and alarming. In the first days of February General Halle again advised Mathilde to leave the capital, saying he was afraid that her house might be in particular danger from disturbances when the Duma reopened on 14 February. The real reason was that her profiteering in arms deals and the favours she had received from the Imperial family had made Mathilde a figure of hate. Lewd poems and caricatures about her were circulating in Petrograd and probably only the Empress was more despised than Kschessinska.46 This time she treated the warning seriously.