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Imperial Dancer

Page 35

by Coryne Hall


  As France settled into the ‘phoney war’ Mathilde decided she must reopen the studio. All the foreign pupils had returned home but most of the students were Parisian. Although they had initially left the capital Mathilde hoped they would come back.

  From the beginning of October Mathilde began commuting into Paris nearly every day, a twenty-minute journey by train and Metro, to give lessons. The money from this enabled them to live. Unfortunately there were few students and if the situation stayed this way Mathilde did not know whether she would be able to continue working. They could only hope for the best.2

  As if out of spite, that winter was particularly severe but Mathilde struggled into Paris in the deep snow. In her memoirs she glossed over the discomforts, saying that their house was comfortable and well heated, friends came from Paris on Sundays and almost every evening someone came to dinner.

  The reality was somewhat different. The house was badly heated and the main rooms were without any heating at all. Every morning they simply froze, Andrei explained to a friend as they struggled through the bitter winter. Julie was still living with them but on 8 December she was upset by the death of her dog Tobik, who had been with her since Ali died fifteen years earlier.3

  Christmas came. Mathilde and Andrei celebrated with a tree at Le Vésinet and another in Paris. The situation was calm, so they went to church in Paris as usual and then returned to Villa Molitor with their guests to light the candles on the tree. Later they also lit the tree at Le Vésinet.

  As 1940 dawned and still nothing happened the theatres and restaurants remained open and people flocked back to Paris. About one-fifth of Mathilde’s pupils had returned but because of the blackout regulations lessons had to finish earlier. Although Andrei and Mathilde tried to keep their spirits up sometimes they gave in to bouts of depression.4

  On 19 January, unable to stand the cold house at Le Vésinet any longer, they returned to Villa Molitor. The number of pupils fluctuated but they were surviving and life was bearable. Mathilde received a greeting from Beryl Morina for her ‘birthday’ (actually her name day) which cheered her enormously. The loss of all the foreign pupils was upsetting. ‘I also hope, that when the war will be over, to see you again in my studio, see you work and advance in your art. It is very hard for me not to have you here,’ she told Beryl.5

  In March 1940 the Tatler optimistically published a feature on the White Russians in Paris who were waiting for the fall of the Soviet regime. ‘An outstanding and gallant figure in this collection is the Princess Romanovsky-Krasinsky, wife of the Grand Duke André of Russia, heir to the Russian throne [sic], who started a ballet school…to keep herself and her husband from starvation,’ the Tatler reported.6

  Then on 9 April 1940 Hitler invaded Denmark. By the following month Luxembourg, the Netherlands and Belgium had been over-run and in June Norway fell. The Germans rolled towards the English Channel and the British forces were evacuated from Dunkirk.

  As the situation deteriorated Mathilde continued to teach. ‘In two weeks’ time it will be our Easter. It is difficult to say how we are going to spend this holiday,’ she wrote on 14 April. Easter was the most important festival in the Orthodox Calendar, more important to Russians even than Christmas. ‘How wonderful it was when we were together during this day…I am so often thinking about you,’ she wrote sadly to Felia Doubrovska. ‘There is a lot of work, a lot of students came back to Paris,’ she continued more hopefully.

  I have to do a lot of productions and they bring better income, but for all that it is beyond comparison with the income before and life is very hard. Adzhemova performed with Lifar in Cannes. She danced Spectre and two dances of my choreography. She had colossal success … I do not go anywhere, but sometimes have dinner with the Adzhemovs. I do not receive, except some guests like Kulnev and Lifar’s brother. Sereozha [Serge Lifar] visits my studio often … I played poker at Tamara’s, but the game does not attract [me] as I do not have any spare money to lose. Life is boring but peaceful so far. But I still think that the war will finish soon. What joy it will be if we meet again.7

  Mathilde was over-optimistic. By early June Hitler had turned his attention to France.

  Panic seized the people of Paris as the Germans advanced. The Government left on 8 June. Everyone now had the same thought – to flee. Although Mathilde and Andrei at first tried to lie low it soon became apparent that catastrophe was inevitable. They decided to go to Boris’s villa in Biarritz to await the outcome of events. Yet assuming they could secure tickets and send off the luggage there still remained the problem of boarding the train.

  The stations and the squares around them were crammed with thousands of people who had the same idea. An estimated two million people fled from Paris. Finally Mathilde, Andrei, Vova and Julie obtained two compartments in a sleeping car, fought their way to the carriage with difficulty and gratefully drank a bottle of champagne thoughtfully provided by the conductor. War or no war, Mathilde continued to do things in style.

  They left on 11 June, arriving the following day after many delays. On 14 June German military vehicles rolled on to the Place de la Concorde. Soon huge swastikas were hanging beneath the Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel Tower and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

  Refugees were pouring into Biarritz, which the Germans reached on 26 June. The heartrending sight of families fleeing their homes clutching a few possessions and sleeping in their cars reminded Mathilde all too clearly of their flight from Russia twenty years earlier.

  France signed an armistice with Germany on 22 June, and with Italy (which had entered the war on the Axis side) a few days later. Most of France now became occupied territory; the south-west was under Marshal Pétain’s collaborationist Vichy government. Officially, France’s war was over.

  Mathilde now lost contact with Slava and her friends in England. Under the inspired leadership of Winston Churchill Britain continued to hold out against the nightly Nazi bombing raids.

  With Biarritz now occupied there was little point in staying. Besides, they had no financial means unless Mathilde reopened the studio. So at the end of September, after three and a half months in Biarritz, they returned to Paris. Many other people did the same.

  In spite of the occupation they found schools, restaurants, theatres, trains and newspapers running on a nearly normal basis. Even the Opéra reopened in November. Mathilde’s studio flourished throughout the winter, although there were no lights at night and she had to be home before the curfew. Then came a new anxiety.

  On 22 June 1941 Germany invaded Russia.

  The German invasion of Russia divided the émigré community. Some were appalled at the idea of Germans on their native soil, but others saw collaboration with the Nazis as an opportunity to put an end to Stalin’s regime.

  On 22 June Vova went to church as usual and then caught the train to Le Vésinet to spend the day with friends. Shortly after he had left Paris the German police called at Villa Molitor to arrest him. Finding he was out all day they departed, although one of them returned later just to make sure, and said he was to report to the German police the next day without fail.

  Vova returned from Le Vésinet at midnight, having told his parents on the telephone that he would obey the summons. In the morning Mathilde and Andrei watched him walk away down Villa Molitor with no idea when they would see him again. All day Andrei telephoned around Paris for news but all they could learn was that many Russians had been arrested, although most people thought this was merely for the purposes of a census.

  According to Serge Lifar, Vova ‘was taken prisoner in the absence of the Governor of Paris’, Bernard Radermacher, personal representative of Dr Goebbels, who was ‘more or less the director of artistic activities in occupied Paris’.8 Lifar said that he personally contacted Radermacher, after which all the prisoners

  were immediately released – with excuses. Later on they all had important jobs in German departments dealing with Russian affairs or were put at the head of purchasing units
set up by the Germans. But all of these people – still later on – discovered that they had been keen resistants and hastened to remember that one night’s imprisonment – due to a mistake!9

  In Vova’s case Lifar appears to be mistaken, as he certainly was not released straight away.

  Along with other parents, Andrei ‘anxiously and repeatedly’ visited the German police headquarters.10 Only four days later did they learn from a Russian who the Germans had released that Vova was imprisoned at Compiègne, in an army camp hemmed in by barbed wire. The prisoners were said to be treated well and adequately fed but Vova had taken no essentials with him when he left. Soon they received an urgent appeal for toilet articles and clean underclothes.

  Vova’s association with Alexander Kazem-Bek and the Young Russians was responsible for his internment. At the beginning of the war Kazem-Bek had been arrested and his papers were confiscated by the French police. Andrei had taken ‘special pleasure’ in informing Dimitri, now living in Switzerland, of this fact. Now Vova was regarded by the German occupying forces as pro-Soviet because of his activity with the Young Russians. It was because of this past activity that, when Andrei swallowed his pride and sought help from prominent Russian émigré leaders, they refused to help secure Vova’s release. On 26 June Vassili Maklakov, former Russian Ambassador to France, replied to Andrei’s letter by telling him politely but firmly that ‘Your Highness will understand’ that ‘they could not help’.11

  Although Mathilde and Andrei were not allowed to visit, it was permitted to hand parcels into the guardroom for delivery to the prisoners. On 30 June they went to Compiégne in a friend’s car to take the items Vova had requested. The guard promised to give them to Vova on his birthday the following day. Mathilde then sent parcels nearly every week.

  From 1 August meetings were permitted. Vova seemed cheerful and told Mathilde not to worry, reiterating that they were being well treated. Nevertheless, Mathilde later told Felia that she ‘suffered terribly’ with anxiety while he was in prison.12 Several hundred prisoners were freed but Vova was never among them. Mathilde and Andrei were afraid that he would be taken to Germany as a hostage. The Germans feared that the Russian émigrés would join the Resistance. Some of them, of course, had already done so. A census of all Russian nationals was ordered and their bank accounts were blocked. Andrei’s physician Dr Zalewski became a patriot. Meanwhile Vova remained in prison.

  By now Mathilde and Julie had lost contact with Joseph. As Hitler’s armies swept across Russia determined to destroy Leningrad, Joseph refused to leave the city that he loved. In one of his last letters he said that on 18 February 1938 he had celebrated the sixtieth anniversary of his work in the ballet, and wrote proudly about a celebration which would take place in the Philharmonia (the former Assembly Hall of the Nobility) in January 1939. In the last letter preserved, Joseph asked for material to have a spring coat made for Celina and thanked Julie for her ‘pleasant and kind attitude’ to his forthcoming marriage to Marie-Antoinette. The couple had been persuaded to marry by their respective children. The last communication they received from Joseph was at the beginning of 1940.13 After that there was only silence.

  In September 1941 the Siege of Leningrad began. For almost three years the people of Leningrad were besieged and starving, sheltering from the German bombardment in the cellars of palaces and churches built by the Tsars. Mathilde had no way of obtaining news of her brother and did not know if he was alive or dead.

  They were still trying to secure Vova’s release, meanwhile living in fear of their own arrest. The camp commandant often let them have a private meeting with Vova in his office. In gratitude Mathilde and Andrei presented him with a silver flask.

  Suddenly, at 9.50 p.m. on 20 October the telephone rang. Vova was at the Gare du Nord. Mathilde and Andrei rushed to the nearby Metro station to go and meet him. Vova later told his cousin that he was ‘proud’ to have been arrested when the Russo-German war began – but even he could not understand why he was later released by the Germans.14

  He was freed after 119 days in prison. By a strange coincidence, which the superstitious Mathilde did not fail to note, his number in the camp had been 119.

  The war years were hard. During the winter of 1941 ration cards appeared but the 1,400 calories a day entitlement was insufficient for most adults. Mathilde’s weight dropped to 40 kilograms (6 stone 4 pounds). ‘Coal, fats, oil and soap were in very short supply’ and prices rose sharply. Soon a black market emerged.15 Besides the constant fear of arrest and the worry for the safety of friends, it was becoming difficult to heat the studio and during the winter of 1942–3 there was no heating in there at all. Mathilde suffered from constant pain in the joints of her right leg caused by arthritis but she had to keep going if they were to survive.

  The news was depressing. The German army was victorious on all fronts and hostage lists began to appear in the Paris streets. By a roundabout route they learnt of the death of Grand Duke Dimitri on 5 March 1942 in a sanatorium in Davos. He and Audrey had divorced in 1937 and she had taken little Paul to America. Dimitri’s health, which had never been strong, declined while Europe was in the grip of war and despite several operations he died of tuberculosis at the age of fifty. Also that year, on 22 August, Michael Fokine died in America.

  In 1941 the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbour and America entered the war. Mathilde had no news of Felia, Pierre and the numerous other friends who had emigrated to the United States.

  In the summer of 1943 Mathilde heard that Vera Trefilova was ill in a Paris hospital. Despite pain from her leg Mathilde climbed several flights of stairs to bring flowers to Vera, who had continued to give classes even when her temperature soared. On 7 July Mathilde left for Dax, where she hoped to cure her leg. Vera died three days later and Mathilde asked Serge Lifar to represent her at the funeral.

  A more severe loss came with the death of Grand Duke Boris. At the end of 1942 he and Zina had moved from their house at Meudon to the rue de la Faisanderie in Paris. In November 1943 a telephone call from Zina alerted Mathilde and Andrei to his critical state but by the time they arrived it was too late. The Grand Duke, the one ‘more likely to be shot by a husband than an assassin’,16 had died quietly in his bed.

  There was a large turn-out for the funeral service at the Russian Church, where his body was placed in the crypt in the hope of transferring it to Contrexéville later for burial beside his mother. ‘It’s my turn now,’ Andrei remarked sadly.17

  Early in 1944 Vova underwent a major operation in a nursing home in Neuilly. This was another worry, as it was difficult to visit him. Luckily the surgery was successful and after a month Vova was allowed home.

  Electric heating was installed in the studio but it was expensive. Both gas and electricity were in short supply and there were fines for people using too much, but for Mathilde it was a necessity. ‘Of course the electric heating cannot heat a big studio,’ she explained, ‘and we had to work at only 2 degrees C when our hands and feet were freezing.’18

  As they struggled through another bitter winter in Paris, events in Europe were coming to a head. On 27 January 1944 the Siege of Leningrad was finally lifted after 900 days. One and a half million people, more than half the population of the city, had perished. As the broken German army retreated they blew up the palaces. Peterhof, Pavlovsk, the large Catherine Palace at Tsarskoe Selo, all were reduced to ruins. The family’s feelings were summed up by Grand Duchess Xenia:

  It hurts to think that nothing has been spared by the enemy (beasts) & all those beautiful palaces & lovely parks exist no longer – & everything is now a mass of ruins! Gatchina Palace has also been burnt down & as to Peterhof – nothing is left of it by the continual bombardment of both sides. Pavlovsk, which belonged to the Constantine family, was a real gem.19

  Miraculously, Mathilde’s mansion had survived without major damage.

  Mathilde was still working every day but by spring 1944 she had to limp to the studio as many of the Metro s
tations were closed. She found the evening walk back along dark streets terrifying. Prices had risen so much that, although Mme Georges managed to obtain everything, all Mathilde’s earnings were spent on food. The cost of lessons rose but she had fewer pupils and consequently earned less than before.

  On 3 June Rome was liberated and three days later the Allies landed on the Normandy beaches. The Germans were now retreating on both fronts and, harassed by the Resistance, began the arrest and execution of hostages. Mathilde lived in continual fear that Vova would be re-arrested and shot. Air raids became more frequent as the Allied advance continued. The sirens wailed almost continuously, the area around Villa Molitor was subject to constant bombardment and many of the properties in the neighbourhood had broken windows. ‘Our district was terrible,’ Mathilde told Felia Doubrovska,

  everything was flying above us and the bombs were exploding everywhere. Nights, there were horrifying nights! Our Villa Molitor miraculously was not touched, God helped us. But one bomb fell next to the right gate and it seemed that our villa … was falling apart. If the war had gone on we would not have had enough strength.20

  On 11 August the wireless announced that the Allies were approaching Paris. For several days the people lived in continuous anxiety, wondering whether the Germans would blow up buildings and monuments as had been rumoured, fight, or withdraw. By 17 August the Germans were evacuating their offices, taking everything with them as they went. Normal life was now suspended. Banks and post offices were closed. Streets were deserted. Rioting was answered by summary executions. The whole of 24 August was spent waiting for the Allies to arrive.

 

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