"Somewhere cats are mewing pitifully,
I catch the sound of distant steps...
Your words are a wonderful lullaby:
Because of them for three months I haven't slept".
Akhmatova.
Throughout that fall, from the time the telegram arrived, everything had lost its color. St Petersburg glowed the light shone bright, and the colors and smells of the fall were everywhere, but I was as blind to it, to them.
On december-time I was strolling along in Nevsky in bitingly cold snowy weather that made eyes sting, and breath mist, when I heard the news that in Putilov's factories, there was a large-scale mass strike. In a few days after the first strike had happened, it spread very soon, almost like a fire, or gleaming topped waves, to the other to factories in the city. In few weeks a total of 15,000 workers, of 382 different factories, were at strike.
At the beginning of that New Year and almost right after Orthodox Christmas, January 8.1.1905 there was no electricity in the city and the distribution of newspapers was suspended. All public spaces were declared closed, Mariinsky too naturally, and in Conservatory things were tense.
So I huddled in Mohovaya, stacked firewood, by bucketfulls, and drank tea pondering future to come, and played the harpiscore, sometimes, with subdued tone. As Katherines friend had decided to go on a extended tour in Alps and then in the turnee of Middle-East, apartment was mine to use in the interim. Katherine had departed from Russia in early autum, she had went back to Paris, to Renee or so I assumed. Anne wrote me letters, they were full of fun and evocative tone, of wistfullness and wim. In one of them Anne asked me if she could describe Rue Jacob's atmosphere, without revealing details, naturally, as memories of that visit to Paris were favorite among the childen, apparently Walter was eager to hear these recollections at regular intervals. I replied to Anne, even though writing was heavy going these days, that she was allowed to describe to Walter what he ever wanted to hear, without restrictions.
Nathalie wrote to me like a clockwork, she was worried about the current unrest and wanted that I would come back to 20 Rue Jacob, she ended most letters with her love.
Virginie and I we wrote to each other almost weekly. I had visited in Tver few times, after that first time, and it was still a dreamy and glorious time that we had together, she had written in her most recent letter that she hoped to come live with me, if nothing would go wrong.
The atmosphere in the city was gloomy and bubbly at the same time. Political radicals and activists, on the nearby streets were celebrating as they were sure a new future was near, that the ruling class supression of the people would end soon. One disputed orthodox priest had led a large crowd of marchers, and petitioners of 140 000, strong toward the Ermitage with the intention of taking their petition to the Tsar 9.1 on Sunday. The forces guarding the palace opened fire on peaceful protesters, with the death toll ranging from 200 to 1,000 victims or so. The incident soon began to be called a Кровавое воскресенье, Bloody Sunday in the mouths of the people, and as a result, large-scale strikes through the territories of the Russian Empire began anew. In October, the situation had developed into a widespread general strike in St Petersburg and Moscow too.
Because the now defeated Russo-Japanese war had been unfortunate and the bloody, military mood was dissatisfied, so it was natural that some of the army, escpecially the navy, they also supported workers in their efforts.
As Imperial Russia was a large multi-ethnic country with several provinces in its territory, such as poles, finns, the baltics, which all wanted and demanded self-government and the freedom to use their own national language and develop their cultures. Various religious minorities also pursued their wider right to practice religions, under the rule of the Orthodox Church, locally and geographically.
At times I drank tea with Anna Pavlova, she had risen with steel determination towards the highest parts. A closer acquaintance showed that my first impression was right, she really shared a similar deep musicality that Virginie had. Matilda sometimes guided her, but it was a double-edged sword, for she wanted to succeed herself, without the greater connections of the Romanov family that Matilda still had on her sleeve. The Mariinsky Ballet was was preparing for a tour abroad, when the current unrest was over, and Pavlova and other members of the corps practiced diligently, she had gained the status of prima, only few months ago. I had a feeling that European audiences were not at all prepared for what it was going to experience, because Pavlova would become something really special, she would charm everyone with special sensitivity and musicality, the way she interpreted music and different character dances, not to mention a more classical repertoire.
The first wave of the storm had now reached Russia, it was turbulent everywhere, despite this I did not consider leaving. I wanted to follow the development of the situation, and I already had Conservatory and Mariinsky. My studies progressed really well and my skills as an actor were also praised, which I found ironic as I imagined I couldn't act at all. But I still had deep emotional resources from which to draw different emotions, and that was obviously enough. I also had few companions from the conservatory, we practiced together, and planned for the future, even in the midst of all the chaos, one had to try to believe in the future. I sometimes visited in Zinaida Nikolaevnas salon, and Ivanovs Tower, Wednesdays, sometimes too. I had read a play by Zinoveeva-Annibal, it was a revelation, and apparently she was developing a novel with shappic themes. I had much fun in the Tower, among all the Greek-inspired gowns, and games. I had written Renee the most exuberant letter after my first visit there, it was almost like to be back on 20 Rue Jacob with her and Nathalie.
I had visited Zinaida Nikolaevna quite often after that first night, and she read her manuscripts to me and challenged my thinking, though I wasn't excited about her religious thinking, although her radical way of interpreting the Christian faith was most interesting. Zinaida Nikolaevna was ardently enthusiastic about the current events, which appeared in her poetry, in new political shade. Sometimes she rested on a divan, dressed like a dandy, with slender legs crossed, and a high white collar stiffened, a tight black jacket close to her body, expression ironic and distant, as in that later so famous portrait, as I watched her, I was reminded of Renee's performance on my last night in Paris, and I wondered if it was no wonder the two of them got along so well, at least on some things.
After the assassination of Grand Duke Sergei Alexandrovits, the Tsars uncle, Nicholas II and his advisors and ministers reacted and initiated a constitutional assembly guaranteeing freedom of religion, freedom of speech, reduction in the peasants' redemption payments, and Nicholas II agreed on 18. february to creation of Sate Duma of Russian Empire.
I was really confused, and angry when it became clear that the formation of the Duma didn't change anything. When its slight powers and limits on the electorate were revealed, unrest redoubled, political unrest and violence doubled, and by October when the October Manifesto was delcared, it did not restrain the masses at all. By December 1905 the government sent troops to restrain the crowds, and to break large-scale demonstrations in the urban areas of St. Petersburg. Blood flowed through the streets, not for the first time during the reign of this Tsar, and not for the last time either I pondered. These months of unrest and activism was later called in the annals of history the 1905 Revolution.
The only thing I thought about was the loss of countless lives, first in the war against Japan, and later the innumerable casualties, of the uprisings, and the imprisonments and death sentences, the change of the rising political party map, in the Duma; the cadets, and the democrats, and the trudoviks and the leftists, Octobrists, the national minorities, and religious groups, and all the independent others had formed into existence like mushrooms after heavy rain.
In the midst of the turmoil emerged a group called Чёрная сотня, Black Hundred, which supported the Romanovs, and was extremely anti-alien, it was opposed to any retreat to the autocracy of the reign monarch, and they committed propadanda and even some murders that were ideologically motivated, several right-wing parties and their newspapers published groups material.
I had a deep feeling in my soul that something big was still coming, slowly, like a wave gathering momentum.
There was a heated atmosphere in the Conservatory, as students wanted to take part in the upheaval, and demand a new musical way for a new era, and abandon the old way of thinking and making music, and performances to suit the Imperial family. Composer Rimsky-Korsakov advocated for the students and pushed hard for their cause. During these debates, as students battled with each other, I sat on near wall with my classmates and watched and immersed myself in influences and arguments. Fortunately, the Conservatory was kept open, but the atmosphere was very hectic and breaks in ordinary teaching and everyday life were normal, never one did know what would happen in the next hours or at even at the end of the day.
The loss of my Father still stinged, like a wound that does not scar but reopens, again, and again. After the October Manifesto was proclaimed, I opened the box on my desk where I had deposited Father's last unopened letter. I poured myself a glass of vodka, and with trembling fingers I opened it.
In the long letter, Father wrote in his strong cursive everything he had never been able to tell me.
"He apologized for leaving me for so long to be cared for by greatgeatgrandmother, but the pain caused by the death of his wife, my dead mother, was too much for him. He fled, from Canada, and immersed himself to work and various businessdeals and ventures and tried to forget. When he years later, then saw me standing in the yard with Anne, and I smiled at him, the same smile as my mother, he decided to reconcile his rejection and take me with him and put me in the best schools to make amends of sorts. But the distance that was between us was never corrected, for I reminded too much of his wife, and he was sorry that he could not be present, except at times, and those were few and far between. He ended his letter with a wish of hope and deep belief that I would succeed in life and conquer the stages and that I would life my life in my own terms."
It was singed
to my darling Betty,
all the love Pierce Grayson.
There was also a separate sheet, that said that I was his heir if something should happen to him in this Manchuria trip. The assets were in a bank in France and the managers would know what to do as he had written down instructions, in a vault.
So with Fathers death I was now wealthy. I had the freedom and the means to pursue my dreams, without restrictions or certain expectations.
It was now 1906 and I had fallen in love with St. Petersburg, I felt at home, here. I was no longer lost, and I had learned some shortcuts, and I had carved a place for myself, in this vast city that was full of contradictions, and living history. I had now lived here almost three years, all the seasons were now known to me, gleaming and bright autum, cold winter, and a delicate spring, sudden and warm summer.
Mariinsky put on performances again, and in Conservatory, we students and faculty, were all in the throes of work. I had not yet visited Moscow, but that, too was in my plans and soon summer was coming again, and with it the brilliant dreamy white nights, when the light was hazy soft and everything seemed to be in harmony, the light glistened in the canals, and the statues in the Summer Garden always seemed to be in secret conversation with each other..
A/N:
History is ugly, its pages touched with crimson and blood spilled, full of injustice and oppression. In here I tried to give a quick overview of the situation in 1904-1905. Heartfelt thanks, for reading and commenting this journey of Elizabeths, as always. Best wishes to all!