Anastasia's Secret

by Susanne Dunlap

  Anastasia’s Secret

  SUSANNE DUNLAP

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Cast of Characters

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Susanne Dunlap

  Imprint

  To my mother,

  who never lived to see me an author,

  and to my father,

  who reads my books for both of them

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  The life of Russia’s last imperial family was full of people. Running the court that resided at five or six different palaces and on several yachts, and caring for the five children—one of whom lived with a debilitating disease—required an army of courtiers, servants, and doctors. Most of them don’t appear in this novel.

  But a vivid picture of their existence and all they went through would not be complete without some idea of the many people who devoted themselves to the Romanov family, some choosing to share their privations to the very end. It can be confusing keeping track of everyone, especially because the imperial family gave nicknames to all the people who surrounded them. Given the way Russian names and titles were constructed, it’s hardly surprising.

  A quick word about those tricky Russian names: if you know the function of each part of a name, it’s not very hard to understand who’s who.

  1. First name or Christian name. This is the name your parents gave you when you were born.

  2. Patronymic. A Slavic tradition, this name follows the first name and literally means son of or daughter of [father’s first name]. Since Anastasia was the daughter of Nicholas, her patronymic was Nicholaevna. Alexei, the boy, was Alexei Nicholaevich. Acquaintances and friends might easily have called Anastasia Anastasia Nicholaevna.

  3. Family name. The same as a last name in English, except that names are altered to be gender specific. Romanov was the imperial family’s last name, but the girls were all Romanova, while the boys were Romanov.

  THE IMPERIAL FAMILY

  Tsar Nicholas Alexandrovich Romanov—Called Nicky by the tsaritsa, otherwise Papa or Father. The people often called him Batyushka, which means “Little Father,” a term of combined affection and reverence.

  Tsaritsa Alexandra Fyodorovna Romanova—Her nickname was Sunny, given to her by the tsar when he first met her.

  Grand Duchess Olga Nicholaevna Romanova—Always referred to as Olga.

  Grand Duchess Tatiana Nicholaevna Romanova—Always referred to as Tatiana.

  Grand Duchess Maria Nicholaevna Romanova—Called Marie by her mother and relatives and Mashka by her sisters.

  Grand Duchess Anastasia Nicholaevna Romanova—Called Anastasie by her mother and relatives, Nastya by her sisters, and sometimes Shvybz.

  Tsarevich Alexei Nicholaevich Romanov—Called Baby, Sunshine, Alyosha, or Alexis.

  THE SUITE

  Sometimes referred to as the Household, these are the ladies and gentlemen with court appointments, who had specific jobs to perform to help the court function in its ceremonial and practical way. There were dozens of suite members, but this story features only those who were closely involved with the family immediately before and during their captivity.

  Anna Alexandrovna Vyrubova—The tsaritsa’s closest friend, called Anya by the family. She did not at first have a court appointment, but was later made an honorary maid of honor.

  Countess Anastasia Vasilyevna Hendrikova—Maid of honor to the tsaritsa, but also a good friend. She was called Nastinka or Nastenka by the family.

  Baroness Sophie Buxhoeveden—Maid of honor, called Isa by the family.

  Catherine Adolphovna Schneider—Known as Trina by the family, she originally joined the court to teach Alexandra Russian when she became engaged to Nicholas, and remained as a friend, tutor, and general helper to the family.

  Lili Dehn—Maid of honor and friend to Alexandra. She remained with the family during their captivity in Tsarskoe but stayed in her own house under arrest because her son was dangerously ill.

  Count Paul Benckendorff—General aide-de-camp and grand marshal of the court. Served as “gatekeeper” for those who wished to have an audience with the tsar, and a very loyal member of the suite through their imprisonment at Tsarskoe Selo. He was quite elderly and did not follow the family into exile.

  Count Vladimir Borisovich Fredericks—Chief Minister of the court and old friend of the family. Called the royal couple mes enfants, “my children” in French. He did not go into exile with them because of his age.

  Prince Vasily Alexandrovich Dolgoruky/Dolgorukov—Most commonly he seems to be referred to as Prince Dolgorukov. He was another aide-de-camp to the tsar and marshal of the court, and went into exile with the family.

  General Ilia Leonodovich Tatischev—General aide-de-camp to the tsar and marshal of the court, also went with them into exile.

  Colonel Grooten—One of the palace commanders of the guard, friendly with the family, and responsible for commanding the Composite Infantry Regiment of the Household Troops, also known as the Composites, the elite corps of guards that protected the imperial family.

  THE TUTORS AND DOCTORS

  Lessons continued for all the children throughout their captivity at Tsarskoe Selo, Tobolsk, and Yekaterinburg. Several of those responsible for educating these spirited and sheltered young people were eventually considered privileged members of the family. The tsaritsa suffered from a heart condition, and the tsarevich was a hemophiliac. Two different doctors became the devoted caregivers of the imperial family.

  Pierre Gilliard—Called Zhilik by the children and others, he taught them French at first, then became the primary tutor to the tsarevich, eventually taking on more responsibilities for all of them when they were in exile.

  Sidney Gibbes—English teacher. The children called him Mr. Gibbes; the tsar and tsaritsa called him Sid.

  Alexandra Alexandrovna Tegleva—The children’s governess, more of a supervisor than a teacher. She and Gilliard eventually married and returned to Gilliard’s native Switzerland.

  Eugene Sergeevich Botkin—Doctor to the imperial family.

  Vladimir Nicholaevich Derevenko—Also sometimes spelled Derevanko, doctor in charge of Alexei’s care. His son, Kolya, often served as a playmate to Alexei.

  PRINCIPAL SERVANTS

  The army of servants that attended to the Romanov family before the revolution was vast. The twenty or so who went with the family into exile in Tobolsk must have seemed to them like a fraction of what they needed. The ones named here are those who have relatively important roles to play in the Romanovs’ exile. In general, the servants are referred to by last name.

  Anna Stepanovna Demidova—The tsaritsa’s personal maid.

  Alexei Ivanovich Volkov—Valet to
the tsaritsa.

  Magdalena Franzevna Zanotti—Madeleine Zanotti, who was in charge of the jewels and gowns of the tsaritsa and the grand duchesses.

  Klementi Grigorievich Nagorny—Alexei’s servant, who carried him whenever he was ill.

  Ivan Dmitrievich Sednev—Valet to the children.

  Ivan Mikhailovich Kharitonov—Chief cook.

  Terenti Ivanovich Chemodurov—One of the tsar’s valets.

  THE CAPTORS

  Another changing cast of characters, from people who were once loyal to the tsar and his family, to those who wished them only harm. This is a roughly chronological list of the people primarily responsible for their imprisonment.

  Alexander Fyodorovich Kerensky—Second prime minister of the Provisional Government and also minister of war.

  Colonel Korovichenko—Commander of the palace guard, in charge of the family’s imprisonment.

  Colonel Eugene Kobylinsky—Commander of the palace guard after Korovichenko, accompanied the guard to Tobolsk.

  Damadianz—Assistant commander who took over after Korovichenko.

  Vasily Pankratov—Commissar at Tobolsk.

  Alexander Nikolsky—Commissar at Tobolsk.

  Vasily Yakovlev—Bolshevik official in charge of transferring the imperial family to Yekaterinburg.

  Nikolai Rodionov—Last commissar in charge of the family at Tobolsk.

  FAMILY PETS

  The imperial family had more than its share of animal companions. Several dogs, including the tsarevich’s spaniel, Joy, and Tatiana’s French bulldog, Ortino, went into exile with them. While they were in Tobolsk, apparently Anna Vyrubova sent them the gift of a King Charles spaniel puppy, which became mainly Anastasia’s and was called Jimmy. Olga had a cat, and the tsaritsa had a Scottish terrier named Eira—who was evidently fond of dashing out from behind things and biting peoples’ ankles.

  The only pet that had any real part to play in the actual drama, though—and therefore the only one mentioned often in this book—was Joy, who survived the tragedy at Yekaterinburg and was taken back to England to live out her life.

  PROLOGUE

  May 20, 1918, on the steamboat Rus

  We are surrounded by guards. Not the nice ones; the ones we don’t like, who make us bow to them, make us show our identity cards and take a long time to examine them, even though they know perfectly well who we are and that we haven’t been anywhere outside of the Governor’s House in Tobolsk for months.

  Worst of all, one of the guards is Sasha.

  Sasha! Look at me!

  He won’t. He stares straight ahead. The corners of his mouth are turned down slightly. The scar that extends from beneath the patch over his eye is red. He must be angry. But why? I don’t know, but I can guess. If I took a photograph of him, the color of his scar wouldn’t show, and it wouldn’t tell the story.

  The only good thing is that soon we will all be together at Yekaterinburg: Papa and Mama, Alyosha, Olga, Tatiana, Mashka, and I. I left Sasha’s balalaika behind because they would not let me take it, and then it was stolen by the soldiers. Now I have nothing to remind me of the old days.

  Oh where is that Sasha! The one I love, the one who loves me. This Sasha, who turns away when I look at him, is not the same. Merciful God, bring him back! Let me have my friend again. Make him remember all we have been. Then I’ll be able to survive anything.

  CHAPTER 1

  I was very small the first time someone told me the story of the day I was born. There were no terrible storms. No comets flew across the sky. Mama had an easy birth—I was the fourth child, so she was used to it. All that happened was that my father left the palace and went for a long walk alone in the gardens at Peterhof. He probably smoked while he walked. He enjoyed cigarettes and often gave them to us as a treat when we were older. He had to compose himself so that he would be able to smile and tell my mother he was glad that he had a fourth daughter instead of the long wished-for son, a tsarevich to continue the Romanov line. A tsarevich to continue three hundred years of history.

  But three years later Alexei was born, and everyone was happy.

  My childhood—what I remember of it now that so much has changed—was tranquil. Idyllic, even. I had no real cares, except to do my lessons and learn to knit and sew, making things for the poor children at first, then the soldiers later. When I think about it now, most of the years merge into one another, with the same events occurring over and over again. The same hours in the schoolroom. The same annual cruises on the Standart to the coast of Finland. The same picking up the household and going from palace to palace—the Alexander Palace in Tsarskoe Selo in the spring, Peterhof in the summer, Livadia in the Crimea late in the summer, Skernevizi in Poland for hunting in the autumn, and the Winter Palace when we had to attend official functions at any time of year. The year 1913, when all of Russia celebrated the three-hundredth jubilee of Romanov rule, would have been just like every other, with a few more parties and boring events, except that I met Sasha. That is where everything began.

  My whole family and all the court had been forced to attend the most tedious celebrations. I wore clean through three pairs of shoes in one month. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I had been in long gowns like my sisters Olga and Tatiana, but my coming-of-age on my sixteenth birthday was still four years off. Four years and a lifetime, it seems now.

  I had wandered into the gardens, complaining of a headache so I wouldn’t have to go with my mother and her friend Anya Vyrubova to inspect yet another nursing home Mama had endowed with money from her own purse. I heard the distant sound of a balalaika, and it drew me toward a garden wall. In the street celebrations for the jubilee it was common to hear someone playing this three-stringed guitar. The sound always made me feel sad and happy at the same time. It brought to mind pictures of the onion domes of Moscow and the Crimean peasants in their colorful costumes. I loved to play the balalaika. My brother, Alexei, had one that he also liked to play when he was well, but I knew it wasn’t Alyosha strumming now. He was with his tutor, M. Gilliard—Zhilik, we called him—trying to learn French.

  As I walked into the garden I realized that the music wasn’t coming from over the wall, but from a corner inside the garden itself. It sounded like a lovely instrument and the player was very skillful.

  I crept up slowly and quietly. One of the gardeners was a fearsome fellow we were all afraid of, and if it happened to be him playing I would let him be and slip away before he saw me.

  But it wasn’t. In fact, it was someone I had never seen before, dressed in the uniform of the Semyonovsky Guards. He made a nice picture in his crisp uniform with its brass buttons and braid. He was leaning against a tree, gazing at nothing, and strumming his balalaika. I wished I had my Kodak camera with me.

  I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I stood there for a long minute before I spoke, waiting for the young soldier to finish his song. When it was over, I asked, “Who are you?” The words spilled out before I thought about being polite.

  He jumped up and fell backward, tossing his balalaika aside. It landed in a flowerbed with a twang.

  “Oh! I…” He stood quickly and dusted himself off. “I beg your pardon. I’m with the Composites. I’m supposed to be … guarding…”

  The Composite corps was the guard of the palace, made up of elite representatives from all the different regiments. Yet this fellow hardly looked like a battle-proven soldier. His face was smooth and young, a nice shape, with full lips and a nose that turned up slightly. Freckles dotted his cheeks and brought out his startlingly blue eyes. At first I caught my breath when I saw him, curiously attracted to this complete stranger. I quickly recovered, though, and decided I couldn’t resist the temptation to take advantage of the situation.

  “Did you think to frighten people away by playing, or were you planning to attract the rabble with a tune and then turn them over to the police?”

  “Forgive me. Are you one of the grand duchesses? Please don’t tell…”


  “Oh heavens, you don’t need to worry about me. I’m only Anastasie. No one heeds me very much. I won’t say a word to anyone.”

  His face relaxed into a smile that turned his blue eyes up at the corners and wrinkled his nose slightly. “I’m Alexander Mikhailovich Galliapin, but everyone calls me Sasha.”

  “How did you come to be here, Alexander Mikhailovich, whom everybody calls Sasha?” I asked him.

  A nervous twitch tugged one of the corners of his mouth down slightly. “I… I couldn’t help … I—walked in.”

  I should have told him just to walk out again. We weren’t allowed friends Mama and Papa didn’t approve of, and there were few enough of those. But something told me I was in no danger from Sasha. And so instead of sending him away, I asked, “Why?”

  I think it was that question that began our friendship. He could not believe a grand duchess—a princess, the youngest daughter of the ruler of all the Russias—would be interested in the comings and goings of someone as lowly as he was.

  Sasha looked down at his feet, a slow flush creeping up from his neck to his face. “I don’t know exactly,” he said.

  Something told me he did know, that perhaps he had come here to escape from something, as I had. “You can tell me, you know,” I said. “I’m not going to turn you in.”

  He smiled again. What a smile! “You’re right. I came here for a reason. To get away from someone.”

  “Who?”

  “My sergeant. He’s a drunk. He beats me because he knows I’m really too young to be in the regiment.”

  “How horrid,” I said. “Why don’t you have him punished?”

  Sasha laughed. “That’s good! Have my sergeant punished!” He continued laughing, a sound that bubbled like a fountain and made me smile too. “Well, I’m used to it, I suppose. That’s why I joined the guards. To get away from my father’s beatings. He was always drunk too.”

  It struck me that the poor fellow hadn’t really managed to escape at all. “My father is very kind to us. I’ve never been beaten.” I didn’t know what else to say.