The Last Tsar

by Edvard Radzinsky

  Indeed, the commander-in-chief made a long report to the tsar. Big, ferocious Nikolasha shouted in the red-hot heat of his train car. At first all his accusations were quite familiar to the tsar: Rasputin’s debauchery and so on.

  But then the commander-in-chief’s speech became frightening: German agents had access to Rasputin’s home, everything being done at Headquarters was becoming known in the Gorokhovskaya apartment through the trusting empress—and then….

  “I never knew about any of this.… I could never even have imagined”—was all the distraught tsar could say. Then Nikolasha proposed bringing Alexandra Feodorovna to Headquarters to show her the report and put an end to the Friend. “Resolve the matter within the family”—here at Headquarters!

  Nicholas agreed. Right now he wanted only one thing: to escape from this train and go home, to Tsarskoe Selo. He was already beginning to fear that they might simply not let him go. En route, calmer, he understood that all this was emotion and conjecture, that there was no real proof of treason. All that remained were stories about their Friend’s dissipation.

  When she found out the whole story of what had happened at Headquarters, she fell into a febrile delirium and kept begging to let her keep Baby and not shut her up in a monastery. What did Alix’s cry not to shut her up in a monastery mean? “Is the Sovereign indeed powerless to shut up in a monastery the woman who is ruining him and Russia, the evil genius of the Russian people and the Romanov dynasty?” That is what the monarchist Purishkevich would write in his diary a year later (so this was not merely the fruit of Alix’s sick imagination).

  Evidently, Nicholas had received an important report at Tsarskoe Selo. More than likely Rasputin collected the information; he had direct links to the secret police. As Alix would later write: “If [the tsar] had not taken N. N.’s place, he would have been dashed from the throne.” The report told Nicholas that there was in fact a plot.

  Was this all Rasputin’s idea? Alexandra Feodorovna’s idée fixe?

  Or, indeed, had the camarilla, sensing as in 1905 impending catastrophe, decided to replace Nicholas with Nikolasha again?

  The diary of Grand Duke Andrei Vladimirovich, looking back on events of the previous years, includes this note for December 29, 1916: “Then Dehn [the tsaritsa’s friend Lili Dehn] conveyed the portion of her conversation with Alix that had to do with Nikolasha. Alix had assured Dehn that she had documents in her hands proving that Nikolasha wanted to sit on the throne. That was why he had to be removed.”

  It was clear to the tsar that this time at Headquarters things would come to no good. The commander-in-chief would demand that Rasputin be removed, which would kill Alix. Perhaps even the harshest measures for Alix herself, knowing that Nicholas would never consent to that. He would fall into a trap, though: they would not let him leave Headquarters, and he would be left with no choice but to abdicate. This secretive man did not want to insult Nikolasha with his suspicions. He simply announced to the ministers: “At this critical moment, the country’s supreme leader must stand at the army’s head.” This decision seemed insane to everyone. He had no other solution, though. Soon after, rumors circulated in Petrograd that the tsar had deposed Nikolasha and made himself commander-in-chief. This was a shock. Nicholas Nikolaevich had authority; the weak tsar was not any more popular in the army than in society at large, but even in the army there were rumors about the German tsaritsa, about her dealings with the enemy, about the dirty holy man.

  His mother realized that Nicholas’s actions were a catastrophe.

  Little K.’s gentle friend Grand Duke Andrei Vladimirovich wrote in his diary on August 24, 1915:

  “This afternoon I was at Aunt Minnie’s [Empress-Mother Marie Feodorovna] and found her terribly despondent.… She believes that the removal of N[icholas] N[ikolaevich] will lead to N[icholas II]’s inevitable ruin.… She kept asking, Where are we going? ‘Where are we going? It isn’t Nicky, he is … he is sweet, and honest, and good—it’s all her doing.… She alone is responsible for all that is going on. It was not my dear boy who did this!’

  “When Mama went to see her, she added as well that she was reminded of the times of Emperor Paul I, who in his last year began removing everyone loyal, and our great-great-grandfather’s sad end haunts her in all its horror.… Not once in history since the times of Peter I has a tsar himself stood at the head of his armies. All such attempts, both under Alexander I in 1812, and under Alexander II, have yielded instead a sorry result.”

  Nicholas left for Headquarters. This was the most difficult departure for him. He had to announce his decision to the commander-in-chief, the enormous Nikolasha, before whom he was unwillingly shy, in his red-hot train car.

  On the train, a letter awaited him as always:

  She: “Aug. 22nd 1915.… Never have they seen such firmness in you before … proving yourself the Autocrat without wh. Russia cannot exist.… Forgive me, I beseech you, my Angel, for having left you no peace … but I too well know yr. marvelously gentle character.… I have suffered so terribly, & phisically overtired myself these 2 days, & morally worried (& worry still till all is done at the Headquarters & Nikolasha goes) only then shall I feel calm.… You see they are afraid of me & so come to you when alone—they know I have a will of my own when I feel I am in the right—& you are now—we know this, so you make them tremble before your courage & will. God is with you & our Friend for you.… His holy angels guard & guide you.… I am near & with you for ever & ever & none shall separate us.”

  Nikolasha understood immediately: the game was lost. The former commander-in-chief conducted himself impeccably.

  He: “25 August, 1915.… Thank God it is all over, and here I am with this new responsibility on my shoulders! But God’s will be fulfilled.… The whole morning of that memorable day, Aug. 23, while coming here, I prayed much and read your first letter over and over again. The nearer the moment of our meeting, the greater the peace that reigned in my heart. N[ikolasha] came in with a kind, brave smile, and asked simply when I would order him to go. I answered in the same manner that he could remain for two days; then we discussed the questions connected with military operations, some of the generals, and so forth, and that was all. The following day at lunch and dinner he was very talkative and in a very good mood, such as we have not seen him in for many months.… The expression on his adjutant’s face was of the gloomiest—it was quite amusing.”

  ——

  Thus Nicholas II became commander-in-chief of a retreating army.

  From that moment on, with all her energy, with all her passion, her invincible, hysterical will, Alix began to help him lead the country and the army.

  She: “Aug. 30th 1915. My own beloved darling.… [Duma member] Guchkov ought to be got rid of, only how is the question, war-time—is there nothing one can hook on to have him shut up? He hunts after anarchy & against our dynasty, wh. our Friend said God would protect.”

  At that time vile drawings, shameful conversations about the commander-in-chief’s wife and about the country’s ruler became commonplace.

  She: “Botkin told me that a certain Gorodinsky (Anna’s friend) overheard a conversation on a train between two gentlemen saying nasty things about me. He slapped them both.”

  He: “31 August, 1915.… How grateful I am to you for your dear letters! In my loneliness they are my only consolation, and I look forward to them with impatience.… Now a few words about the military situation—it looks threatening in the direction of Dvinsk and Vilna, grave in the centre towards Baranovitchi, and good in the South.… The gravity lies in the terribly weak condition of our regiments, which consist of less than a quarter of their normal strength; it is impossible to reinforce them in less than a month’s time, as the new recruits will not be ready, and, moreover, there are very few rifles.… We cannot rely on our worn-out railway lines, as in former times. This concentration will only be accomplished towards the 10th or 12th of September.… For this reason I cannot decide to come home before the d
ates indicated.… Your charming flowers, which you gave me in the train, are still standing on my table before me—they have only faded a little.”

  She: “Sept. 4th 1915. My own beloved darling.… Why don’t we have a telephone run from your room to mine, as Nikolasha and Stana do. It would be fantastic & you could tell me good news or discuss a question.… We would try not to pester you, since I know you do not like to talk—but this would be for our exclusive, private conversation, & we would be able to speak without concern that someone was listening in. This could be useful in an extreme instance, to say nothing of how comforting it would be to hear your tender voice!

  “Sept. 7th 1915.… Cold, windy, & rainy.… I have read through the newspapers—nothing written that we left Vilna—again very mixed, success, bad luck….

  “Sept. 9th.… only don’t send Dmitri, he is too young & it makes him conceited—wish you could send him off! Only don’t say its I who ask this.”

  She either loved or hated. Whichever it was, it was total.

  “Sept. 11th 1915. Sad to think summer is over & endless winter awaits us soon.… Is it true that they intend to send Guchkov & some others from Moscou as deputation to you? A railway accident in wh. he alone wld. suffer wld. be a real punishment fr. God.… Show yr. fist … be the master & lord; you are the Autocrat & they dare not forget it, when they do, as now, woe into them.… I fear Misha [Nicholas’s brother] will ask for his wife to get a title—she cant—she left two husbands already….

  “Sept. 13th 1915.… The leaves are turning very yellow and red, I see it from the windows of my big room—Sweetheart, you never give me an answer about Dmitri, why you dont send him back to his regiment.… It does not look well, no Granddukes are out, only Boris from time to time, the poor Constantins boys always ill.”

  He: “14 September, 1915.… The weather continues to be lovely. I go out every day in a car with Misha, and we spend a great part of my leisure together, as in former years. He is so calm and cheery—he sends you his very heartiest greetings.”

  How he wished there were peace in the family.

  She: “Sept. 15th 1915.… Remember to keep the Image in yr. hand again & several times to comb yr. hair with this comb before the sitting of the ministers. Oh how I shall think of you & pray for you more than ever then, Beloved One.… I find [Nikolasha] is taking far too big a suite.… its not good coming [to the Caucasus, where the former commander-in-chief had been appointed governor-general] with such a court & clique & I very much dread that they will try to continue making messes,—God grant only that nothing shld. succeed in the Caucasus, & the people show their devotion to you & allow no playing of a grand part.”

  Again the tsar left Tsarskoe Selo, but this time she sent their son with him.

  She: “Oct. 1st 1915.… Well there we are again separated—but I hope it will be easier for you whilst Sunbeam is near you—he will bring life into your house & cheer you up. How happy he was to go, with what excitement he has been awaiting this great moment to travel with you alone….

  “Oct. 2th 1915.… Goodmorning, my precious ones, how did you sleep, I wonder!… Oh, how I miss you both! The hour for his prayers … please ask whether he remembers them daily.—What will it be to you when I fetch him!… It seems to me as tho’ you were already gone ages ago, such yearning after you!”

  He: “Mogilev. 6 October, 1915. My warmest thanks for your loving letter; I am in despair at not having written once since we left, but really, I am occupied here every minute from 2.30 to 6. And Little One’s presence takes up part of my time, too, for which, of course, I am not sorry.… It is very cosy to sleep side by side. I say prayers with him every night since the time we were on the train; he says his prayers too fast, and it is difficult to stop him. He was tremendously pleased with the review; he followed me, and stood the whole time while the troops were marching past, which was splendid. Before the evening we go out in a car … either into the wood or on the bank of the river, where we light a fire and I walk about nearby.… He sleeps well, as I do, in spite of the bright light of his [icon lamp]. He wakes up early in the mornings between 7–8, sits up in bed and begins to talk quietly to me. I answer him drowsily, he settles down and lies quietly until I am called.”

  Later they returned to Tsarskoe Selo, only to leave together again. He had come to enjoy taking the boy along to Headquarters.

  He: “2 November, 1915. When we arrived here by train in the evening, Baby played the fool, pretended to fall off his chair, and hurt his left arm.… Yesterday he spent in bed. I explained to every one that he had simply slept badly, and myself as well.”

  The boy’s illness remained a state secret. This was ruinous, for they still could not explain to the country what Rasputin was doing in the palace.

  She: “Nov. 5th 1915.… How charming Alexei’s photographs are.… Fredericks asked my opinion, whether to permit that cinema of Baby and Joy [his setter] … to be shown in public.… Baby told Mr. Gilliard, that it was silly to see him … and that the dog looked cleverer than he—I like that.”

  He: “31 December, 1915.… My warmest thanks for all your love.… If you only knew how it supports me and how it rewards me for my work, responsibilities and anxieties, and so forth? Indeed, I do not know how I could have endured it all, if God had not decreed to give you to me as a wife and friend! I speak in earnest. At times it is difficult to speak of such truths, and it is easier for me to put it down on paper—owing to stupid shyness.”

  She: “Dec 31st 1915. My own Sweetheart, This is the last time writing to you in the year 1915.… I don’t know how we shall meet the new Year—I likes being in Church—it bores the children.… And yr. rooms without our Sunbeam, poor angel!”

  Thus began 1916, the last full year of their reign. Alexei spent New Year’s at home, at Tsarskoe Selo.

  She: “Jan. 4th 1916.… Baby seriously writes his diary, only it so funny about it,—as little time in the evening,… writes in the afternoon about dinner.—Yesterday as a treat he remained long with me, drew, wrote and played on my bed—and I longed for you to be with us.”

  I am leafing through the first diary of the heir to the Russian throne. An heir who never did become tsar. It is “The Book of Souvenirs for 1916”—a yellow silk cover, gold edging, and on the back an inscription by the empress: “The first diary of my little Alexei.”

  Alexei’s first entries are written in large, comical letters, almost scribbles. He was already eleven. Because he was always sick, he had gotten a late start on his studies.

  “January 1. Got up late today. Tea at 10. Then went to see Mama. Mama doesn’t feel good and so she lied all day. Stayed home with a cold. Had lunch with Olga, Tatiana, Marie, and Anastasia. In the afternoon was at Kolya’s [Dr. Derevenko’s son, Alexei’s best friend] and played there. It was a lot of fun. Had dinner at 6, then played. With Mama at dinner at 8. In bed at 10.”

  And so on—faceless narration, a precise reflection of his father’s diary: most important, brevity and no reflection.

  “July 8. Bath in the morning. Then a walk and play, before lunch Mama and sister arrived. In the afternoon a ride in the motor. Ran over a dog. Tea with Mama. After dinner in the city garden. Children playing there.”

  He did not play with them. He could only watch. Any movement was dangerous for him. The days passed steadily. As usual. Everything for him was “as usual.”

  “February 27. Got up as usual. Was at Nizhnyaya Church. We took Communian [sic], then—as usual….

  “February 15. Everything as usual. Papa left at 12. Saw him off….

  “March 3. Everything as usual….

  “April 7. The same. Confession in bed….

  “April 8. The same. Communion in bed.”

  “The same”—bed, walks, food, prayer, and bed again. The trip to Headquarters was his dream, a fantastic event in his monotonous life, in his “as usual.”

  She: “Jan. 28th 1916.… Once more the train is carrying my Treasure away, but I hope not for long—I kno
w I ought not to say this, & for an old married woman it may seem ridiculous—but cannot help it.—With the years love increases.… It was so nice you read to us & I hear your dear voice now always!… Oh, could but our children be equally blessed in their married lives.… Oh, the lonely night!…

  “March 5th 1916.… I had a collection of English [books] brought me to-day, but I fear there is nothing very interesting amongst them. No great authors already since a long time & in no other country either, nor celebrated artist, or composer—a strange lack. One lives too quickly, impressions follow in rapid succession—machinery & money rule the world & crush all art; & those who think themselves gifted have ill minds.—I do wonder what will be after this great war is over. Will there be a reawakening and new birth in all—shall once more ideals exist, will people be more pure & poetic, or will they continue being dry materialists? So many things one longs to know! I had a vile anon. letter yesterday—happily only read 4 first lines & at once tore it up….

  “April 6th 1916.… Baby was awfully cheery and gay all day and till he went to bed—in the night he woke up from pain in his left arm and from 2 on scarcely got a moment’s sleep, the girls sat with him a good while. Its too despairing for words and he is already worrying about Easter—standing with candles tomorrow in Church.… It seems he worked with a dirk and must have done too much—he is so strong that its difficult for him always to remember and think that he must not do strong movements.”

  In this same letter the tsaritsa wrote about a wounded Jew who was in her hospital. “Tho’ in America, he never forgot Russia & suffered much from homesickness & the moment war broke out he flew here to enlist as soldier to defend his country. Now that he has lost his arm serving in our army, got the St. George’s medal, he longs to remain here & have the right to live wherever he pleases in Russia, a right the Jews don’t possess.… One sees the bitterness, & I grasp it … one ought not to let him become more bitter & feel the cruelty of his old country.”