The Last Tsar

by Edvard Radzinsky

  “ALL IS FULL OF PEACE AND JOY”

  The dowager empress did all she could to keep them with her: at first they lived in Anichkov Palace.

  “15 November. So, a married man….

  “16 November. All morning saw dear Alix only for one hour. We went for a ride.… Strange sitting beside her in Peter[sburg].

  “17 November. Am inexpressibly happy with Alix. It is a shame my duties take up so much time, which I would prefer to spend exclusively with her.”

  She was embarrassed by her poor Russian, and her active nature was tortured by the fact that she could only look on as the dowager empress and ministers managed her Nicky. But her voice was heard more and more frequently in his diary. She wrote admonitions: “First your duty, then rest and relaxation.” “Do not fear danger, the Lord is near and protects you.” The harmony of their union, his softness and her firmness. She thirsted to be at his side in everything. At his side—that is, to rule him. As yet she did so only in his diary.

  A year of mourning: no balls or entertainments; they were left to themselves. He, after his duties, which “take up so much time”; she, all day long. At three o’clock, free after ministers’ reports and other state duties, they would leave Anichkov and ride down Nevsky, then on to the Winter Palace, where their apartment was being readied, and then back to Anichkov Palace—and again they were together. In the evening, he read aloud to her, as his father used to do. When the first snow fell, they went to Tsarskoe Selo, and there for the first time they spent an entire week alone.

  On the last day of the year they wrote in his diary.

  He: “Along with this irreparable woe, the Lord has rewarded me with unimaginable happiness by giving me Alix.”

  She: “The last day of the old year. What happiness to spend it together. My love has grown so deep, so strong, so pure—it knows no bounds. May the Lord bless you and keep you.” And a verse from Lermontov: “Transparent twilight, icon lamp. Bowed head and cross—symbol of holiness. All is full of peace and joy.”

  She had calmed down. Love filled her, and she longed to proclaim it. With him.

  ——

  When he ascended to the throne, so much was expected of him. Russia’s unfailing expectation of a good new tsar! His image had already been created: as heir he had tried to slip out of the palace to have a good time (he thirsted for freedom); he had been in love with a Jewess (he would not oppress national minorities); he had put a police chief in the guardhouse for twenty-four hours (an end to police tyranny). These hopes produced endless requests from local elected councils for all manner of reform.

  Pobedonostsev decided it was time to put a halt to all of this. Nicholas had to deliver an appropriate speech (written for the tsar by Pobedonostsev himself).

  On January 17 (!), 1895, the young emperor and the new empress (who was baptized in St. Feodor’s Cathedral, becoming Alexandra Feodorovna) showed themselves to the country for the first time.

  Representatives of the local councils, the cities, and the Cossacks gathered at Anichkov Palace. The sight of this multitude of people, who Pobedonostsev asserted harbored treason and whom Nicholas must now put in check, threw the timid Nicholas into confusion. The speech lay in the emperor’s lambskin cap.

  He begins reading too loudly, in a breaking falsetto: “Recently at certain meetings of local councils we have heard the voices of people carried away by senseless dreams.” Out of his confusion and tenseness, he suddenly shouts this last sentence while staring at the representative of the Tver nobility. The tsar’s shout startles the old man, so that the gold platter with bread and salt which, according to ancient custom, members of the local councils prepared to offer the new sovereign flies from his hands.

  The platter rolls across the floor, clanging, the bread falls off, and the gold salt cellar embedded in it rolls behind the platter. The impeccably well bred tsar does what any young man should do when something falls from an old man’s hands: Nicholas tries to pick the platter up, which embarrasses everyone dreadfully. The minister of the court, old Vorontsov-Dashkov, hastily chases after the platter, which is caught.

  Aficionados of omens sigh grievously, anticipating sadness in the coming reign.

  From the diary of Vladimir Nikolaevich Lamsdorf, a statesman who would become a minister to the tsar:

  “January 19, 1895. In town they are directing harsh attacks against the emperor’s speech of the day before yesterday, which made the most distressing impression.… They are also blaming the empress for holding herself as if she had swallowed a yardstick and for not bowing to the deputations.”

  Alix was just as shy as her spouse. She fended off embarrassment with her regal bearing.

  “A DAUGHTER SENT BY GOD”

  In the summer they went south, to the Crimea, to the Livadia Palace, where the dead emperor had so recently sat in his armchair. The dowager empress, Nicky’s brother Misha, his childhood comrade Sandro, and Sandro’s wife, Nicky’s sister Xenia.

  Both Xenia and Alix were pregnant.

  “31 July, 1895. After tea I was busy when suddenly I learned that a daughter, Irina, had been born to dear Xenia. Alix and I flew to the farm immediately. We saw Xenia and my little niece. Praise God, it all ended for the best.”

  This Irina crying in her cradle would become the wife of Felix Yusupov, Grigory Rasputin’s chief assassin.

  In the fall they returned to Petersburg and Tsarskoe Selo. From 1895 until the end of his reign, Tsarskoe Selo would be his family’s principal residence—“that charming, dear, precious place.” In the park, set among small artificial lakes, not far from the opulent Catherine Palace, stood the smaller Alexander Palace half hidden by trees. Here they lived. On the night of November 3, the dowager empress was summoned there from Gatchina.

  “3 November. Friday. A day forever memorable for me, during which I suffered much! At 1 in the morning dear Alix began having pains that would not let her sleep. All day she lay in bed in great torment, poor thing. I could not watch her calmly. At about 2 in the morning dear Mama arrived from Gatchina. The three of us—she, Ella, and I—were with Alix constantly. At exactly 9 we heard a child’s squawk, and we all breathed freely! A daughter sent by God, in prayer we named her Olga….

  “6 November. In the morning admired our enchanting little girl. She doesn’t seem like a newborn at all because she’s such a large child and her little head is covered with hair.”

  The Russian nanny (the assistant to the English nanny) said that “a head covered with hair” was a definite token of the little girl’s future happiness.

  In 1918 she would be lucky. She would be standing next to her mother in that half-cellar room. “The tsaritsa and Olga tried to shield themselves with the sign of the cross, but could not do so. Shots rang out” (from the testimony of one of the sharpshooters in the guard, A. Strekotin).

  The little girl grew up. A photograph he took: Alix and, next to her mother, on spindly little legs, tiny Olga.

  Childishly (to his death he would be sweetly infantile), he kept comparing her with his sister’s daughter.

  “21 March, 1896. After mass we brought our daughters to Holy Communion. Ours was perfectly calm, but Irina cried a little….

  “1 April. Xenia brought Irina to our little one’s bath. They weigh the same, 20 pounds, but our little girl is chubbier.”

  The birth coincided with the end of the mourning period. A brilliant ball is held at the Winter Palace: thousands of guests, the orchestra plays a polonaise, the master of ceremonies strikes his staff three times, Arabs in white turbans throw the doors open wide, the brilliant hall bows—and Nicholas and Alexandra make their entrance.

  Alix still spoke Russian poorly, and being among people was quite a task for her. In any case, she was completely taken up with her infant; Alix ruled the nest at Tsarskoe Selo.

  Nicholas’s mother and her people ruled the country. There was a story about the flower that righted itself: crushed by her husband’s iron will, the power-loving mother final
ly righted herself, and so on. In fact, it was all much more tragic and simple. The dowager empress (Aunt Minnie, as she was called in the Romanov family) knew her own son all too well. She feared that someone must inevitably come to influence the good Nicky (at that time she was not thinking of Alix)—perhaps Grand Duke Sergei Alexandrovich, an out-and-out retrograde, or the dead tsar’s other brother Vladimir, as charming as he was stupid. Or Alexander’s dear but foolish third brother, Paul. Any of them could be fatal for the empire. This pragmatic woman believed in herself; she had learned a great deal from Alexander III. Witte’s diaries contain a colorful description of this period: “Ask my mother”—that was Nicholas’s response to Witte on the subject of naming another minister. And elsewhere, again in a difficult moment: “I shall ask my mother.”

  Marie Feodorovna demonstrated perspicacity by setting Nicky up with Sergei Yulievich Witte, her husband’s minister of finance. Witte constituted an entire era in himself: a supporter of reforms, a liberal—or, rather, a conservative liberal, as he would have to be after the frost that raged under Alexander. Witte knew that in Russia one cannot change the temperature too quickly.

  At first the empress-mother tried to appear everywhere at her son’s side.

  Vera Leonidovna:

  “At that time the dowager empress suddenly seemed astonishingly young. All Petersburg was intrigued by this puzzle. People said that this stunning woman had decided to undergo an operation in Paris. She had heard about this operation from the future English Queen Alexandra—that is to say, she saw its fruits. Despite her age, Alexandra literally stunned everyone with her youthfulness.… It is a hideous operation: first the epidermis is removed from the face with a sharp spoon and the face is transformed into one great wound. The wound is moisturized and treated and a clear lacquer is applied to the face. This new, tender, pure face has to be treated very carefully so as not to spoil the lacquer. What comes next is even more painful: widening the hair follicles to insert long eyelashes. The entire operation demands heroism.”

  The poor woman had to reconcile herself to this pain: the young emperor must have a young mother by his side.

  “ALL THAT HAS HAPPENED … SEEMS A DREAM”

  Russian sovereigns were crowned in the ancient Assumption Cathedral in Moscow.

  On May 6 the imperial train, with the entire large Romanov family aboard, departed for Moscow.

  “6 May, 1896. For the first time since our wedding we have had to sleep apart. Very tiresome. Arose at 9. After coffee answered telegrams. Even on the railway they do not leave me in peace. Met in Klin by Uncle Sergei [his former superior, Grand Duke Sergei Alexandrovich, who had become governor-general of Moscow]. Arrived in Moscow at 5, in dreadful weather: rain, wind, cold.”

  ——

  According to custom, before the ceremonial entry into Moscow for the coronation, the sovereigns had to stay in the old Petrovsky Palace located outside the Tver gate, at that time a verst (less than a mile) from Moscow. Here they spent three days in the castle with Gothic windows and romantic turrets that Catherine the Great had built to commemorate the victory over the Turks.

  “7 May. Awoke to the same grim weather.… Received Henry’s [the brother of Emperor Wilhelm] enormous suite, and the princes—of Baden, Wurtemberg, and Japan.”

  Royal Europe and all the rest of the world were converging for the coronation of the Russian autocrat.

  On the day of the ceremonial entrance into Moscow, for the first time the sun came out, setting Moscow’s countless golden cupolas and churches on fire.

  Early morning. The young empress, golden hair to her waist, was standing by a Gothic window, looking out at the towers of the Petrovsky Palace—the continuation of the same fairy tale!

  The magnificent procession set out for the Kremlin.

  “9 May. The first hard day for us—the day of our entrance into Moscow. By 12 an entire gang of princes had gathered, with whom we sat down to lunch. At 2.30 the procession began to move. I was riding on Norma, Mama was sitting in the first gold carriage and Alix in the second, also alone.”

  There was one strange incident. They paid a visit to the holiest place in all of Russia: the Trinity-St. Sergius monastery. But when they got to the monastery, there was no one to meet them. No one remembered until the tsar had already set foot on the territory of the monastery. The mixup was due to poor coordination among those in charge of the coronation ceremonies; but some saw it as an omen: the most honored holy man in Russia, Sergii Radonezhsky, had not greeted the new tsar.

  “13 May. Settled in the Kremlin.… We had to receive an entire army of suites of arriving princes. May the merciful Lord help us, may He strengthen us tomorrow and bless us for a peaceful life of work.”

  He followed his note with three exclamation points and a cross. The coronation, his marriage to Russia—for the religious Nicholas this was one of the greatest days in his life.

  May 14, 1896. The procession from the Kremlin to Assumption Cathedral. The empress-mother wore a small diamond crown, and four generals bore her purple. Then, to cries of “Hurrah,” they entered the cathedral—Nicholas and Alexandra.

  “14 May, 1896. A great day, a triumphant day, but for Alix, Mama, and me, difficult in the moral sense.

  “We were on our feet since 8 in the morning. The weather, happily, was marvelous. The Red Staircase presented a shining prospect. It all took place in Assumption Cathedral, though it seems a dream, I shall not forget it my whole life long.”

  Candles burned … the cherubic song a cappella.… He took the large crown from the metropolitan’s hands and put it on his own head. She went down on her knees before him. He removed the crown and touched the crown of Empire to her head. And again the crown was on his head. A small diamond crown already sparkled on her golden hair. Four ladies-in-waiting fastened it with gold pins. Nicholas and Alexandra took their thrones in the ancient cathedral, and the empress-mother kissed Nicky four times. Then the former empress brushed Alix’s cheek with two kisses.

  How young, how happy they were.

  They made three deep bows to the people from the Red Staircase.

  “At 3 we went to the table in the Hall of Facets.… We had dinner with Mama, who bore up to this entire long trial excellently. At 9 we went to the upper balcony, where Alix lit the lamp on Ivan the Great. Then, afterward, the towers and walls of the Kremlin were illuminated.”

  The Hessian princess looked out on the golden cupola of the great cathedral: the capital of half the world, the lights of the ancient capital of Europe and Asia, sparkled.

  The empress-mother did indeed bear up to this whole long trial excellently. Her endurance would stand her in good stead the next day as well.

  “17 May.… At 1.15 we went to congratulate the ladies. We began with the grand duchesses, then the ladies-in-waiting, the ladies of the town.… My legs ached occasionally….

  “We went to the Bolshoi for the ceremonial performance. As usual, they were giving the first and last act of Life for the Tsar and a beautiful new ballet, The Pearl.” This “beautiful new ballet” was the very one in which, to the public’s amazement, Kschessinska appeared onstage.

  The empress looked at the stage, at the detested Little K., and longed for revenge.

  ——

  The next morning, on May 18, she wiped both the ill-starred ballet and triumphant Mathilde from her memory. May 18 became one of the most awful days in her son’s reign.

  According to custom, after a coronation there was an outdoor fête for the people, where free food, candies, cookies, and so on were given out. As if the tsar were feeding his people. A site for the fête was chosen outside the city limits on Khodynka Meadow. The ancient “bread and circuses”—Caesar and his people.

  Gaudy tents had been set up with sweets on Khodynka Meadow. Mugs were to be given out as well, coronation mugs with seals—and all for free. But forgotten ditches lay between the tents and the crowd that had gathered on the evening of the 17th (the number 17 again!). Forgotten
thanks to the sloppiness of those in charge. Many were those who had come for the free refreshments; at least half a million crowded around—the crush was so great a bullet could not have slipped through. Everyone was waiting for the present-giving to commence. Then shouts rang out—people were suffocating in the crowd. Someone thought the dainties were being passed out! They pressed in. As this mass of bodies began to move, they fell into the trenches, and the crowd trampled over their heads, crushed their rib cages.

  At dawn the broken corpses were carted out.

  Twenty-two years later, also at dawn, also in carts, the corpses of Nicholas and his family would also be carried away.

  When Minister Witte got into his coach that afternoon to attend the continuation of the festivities, he had already been informed about the two thousand dead on Khodynka Meadow. But by the time the brilliant carriages approached Khodynka everything had already been carefully cleared away—there was no trace of the catastrophe. The sun was shining, all of Europe’s aristocracy was in the pavilion, and a large orchestra was performing a cantata in honor of the coronation. The bedecked public milled around on the field. The sovereign was present as well. Constantly at his side was the governor-general of Moscow, Grand Duke Sergei Alexandrovich, organizer of the coronation ceremonies.

  Nicholas was embarrassed and distressed. Everyone noticed.

  ——

  “18 May, 1896. Until now all has gone smoothly, but today a great sin occurred: the crowd that spent the night on Khodynka Meadow waiting for the food and mugs began to press on the structures and there was a terrible crush, and I must add terribly that about 1,300 people were trampled. Learned of this at 10.30.… The news left a repellent impression. At 12.30 we had lunch, then left for Khodynka, to attend this ‘sad national holiday.’