Moscow. July 17, 1918.
Doroteya Filippovna Lavrova.
In many ways, the year 1902 was a distressing one for both Nicholas and Alexandra.
The year before, Victoria Melita had divorced Ernie, Alexandraʼs brother. Their marriage had been crumbling down for quite a while before, with both of them going as far as throwing things at each other. The only thing that had stopped them from separating was Queen Victoria's objection.
Ducky, as family members called Victoria Melita, had married Ernie and given birth to Elizabeth by the time she was only eighteen years old, but she had never stopped loving her cousin, Grand Duke Cyril. Their love had been a doomed one, as the Orthodox Church didn't, and normally still doesn't, allow for first cousins to wed.
Despite also being first cousins, Ernie and Ducky had gotten married upon Queen Victoria's suggestion, and their only child to survive infancy had been Princess Elizabeth of Hesse, also known as Ella.
Ducky loved her daughter as much as any decent mother would, but it was hard to compete with Ernstʼs devotion. Ernst had felt as if he could understand her daughter in a way no one else could since before she had even been able to say more than a few words. He became a child himself whenever he played with her.
When baby Elizabeth was just six months old and a new nursery was made for her, Ernst went as far as consulting the baby on her color preferences. When he showed her a pretty shade of lilac, baby Ella made happy little squeals, and needless to say, Ernst made sure the nursery was painted the "chosen" color.
Later on, Ernst had a playhouse built for her in its own garden, a playhouse no adult was allowed into, much to the frustration of royal nurses and tutors, who would spend up to hours pacing outside, waiting impatiently for their young charge to emerge.
Elizabeth was greatly favored by her great-grandmother, Queen Victoria, who called the little girl "my precious" and for her sake opposed the divorce of her unhappily married parents. Ella could easily make the old woman laugh for hours.
Elizabeth's maternal grandmother was Grand Duchess Maria Alexandrovna of Russia, Duchess of Edinburgh and only surviving daughter of Alexander II. In 1901, as Queen Victoria died, Maria Alexandrovna led five-year-old Elizabeth to see her on her death bed. After Queen Victoria had passed away, Ella was taken in to see her body and told that her great-grandmother had left to be with the angels.
"But I don't see the wings," Elizabeth whispered.
During Queen Victoriaʼs funeral, Elizabeth sat next to her second cousin Prince Edward of York, called David by his family and friends. Ella took David under her protection, holding him most of the time around his neck. Elizabeth was a deeply sensitive girl with a huge heart and a great influence on adults.
Following the death of Queen Victoria, Ernie and Ducky were finally able to divorce. Elizabeth would spent her next years travelling between Darmstadt and her mother's new home.
The separation of her parents was quite hard for the little Elizabeth, who resented the divorce and her mother in particular, primarily at the beginning. Ernst had difficulty persuading Ella to visit Ducky. One time, he found her whimpering under a sofa.
"I don't think my mother loves me, papa", she confessed amidst tears. Ella had to leave her father that day and didn't want to.
"Elizabeth, dear", Ernst said, "your mother loves you too, very much."
"Mama says she loves me, but you do love me," Elizabeth replied.
Victoria Melita did her best to mend her relationship with her daughter. She used to teach her how to ride and even allow her to ride her pony inside her bedroom. Ella became quite a good horsewoman, or pony little girl, just like her little cousins in Russia were becoming.
Nicholas and Alexandra were appalled by their relativesʼ divorce. Shameful even among commoners, a divorce in their midst represented an absolute scandal to the royal families of Europe. Nicholas went as far as claiming that the loss of a dear one would have better than the general disgrace of a divorce.
Alix suffered a lot for the sake of her brother and felt sorry for both him and Ducky, pleading with Xenia not to listen to gossip about them.
Oo
In 1902, while the news about his brother-in-lawʼs divorce was still fresh, Nicholasʼs youngest uncle, Paul, decided to blatantly disobey him.
Grand Duke Paul Alexandrovich had lost his wife Alexandra of Greece some years prior to Alixʼs arrival in Russia.
Seven months into her second pregnancy, Alexandra of Greece was taking a walk with her friends on the bank of a river when she tried to jump directly into a boat that was always moored there and fell, slamming her head awfully hard. The following day, she collapsed in the middle of a ball from painful contractions and lapsed into a fatal coma shortly after giving birth to her son, Dmitri. As she was buried in the Peter and Paul Cathedral, the grieving Paul had to be restrained from throwing himself into the grave with her.
The newborn barely survived, but he did so with the help of his uncle, Grand Duke Sergei, who gave the premature Dmitri the baths prescribed by the doctors, wrapped him in cotton wool and kept him in a cradle filled with hot water bottles to keep his temperature regulated.
Some years after Alexandraʼs death, Paul started a relationship with a married commoner, Olga Valerianovna Karnovich. Olga was so in love with Paul that she divorced her husband, but that didn't make her any more eligible, and when Paul asked the Tsar for permission to marry her, he was refused.
In 1897, Paul and Olga had a son they named Vladimir, but it was in 1902 that the couple decided to marry in Italy against the wishes of the Tsar. As punishment for his morganatic marriage, Nicholas exiled Paul, who was not allowed to take his children, Maria and Dmitri, with him. Pavel and Olga would take Vladimir with them to France and make Paris their official residence.
Sergei and Ella, who were childless, became the new guardians of Maria and Dmitri Pavlovich. Sergei was enthusiastic about his new role, but I canʼt help but think it must have been incredibly hard for those children to be away from their father. I once had a vision of them, one in which they talked about Paul with sad sad eyes and voices.
What did Dmitri and Maria think? Did they resent their father or feel abandoned by him? Did they start blaming the Tsar as they grew older? It is hard to tell. I have visions, but canʼt read minds. Maybe it wasn't even frequent for them to talk about Paul. It was only one vision after all.
Oo
That same year, the Tsar's younger brother and heir, Grand Duke Michael Alexandrovich, fell in love with his first cousin, Princess Beatrice of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, Victoria Melitaʼs sister. They exchanged plenty of letters and initially planned to marry. The Tsar and the Dowager Empress, however, reminded "Misha" that the Orthodox Church forbade unions between first cousins and Nicholas would not make an exception for him.
Having much to lose, Michael decided to end the relationship. Victoria Melita was certainly not pleased. Michael had broken her baby sisterʼs heart.
Oo
Nicholas had such an inflexible side. Upholding tradition and thus protecting the respectability of his house was more important to him than his family members' happiness, sometimes more than anyoneʼs happiness. Knowing how hard it was for these people to find what was deemed a "suitable" partner makes me grateful to be a commoner at times, although not enough to consider their lives, free of toil, easier than mine, let alone most people.
One would think having almost lost Alexandra to religious differences would have made Nicholas more understanding.
Maybe he was too caught up in his own happiness. He had the perfect wife, or so I heard him say to her once, and he was as devoted to and proud of his girls as Ernst was of his little Elizabeth.
Oo
Time went on amazingly fast as the little girls grew, much to Alexandraʼs great displeasure. She wanted them to stay little girls forever, or so it seemed. The mother had already taught the oldest two how to sew, and three-year-old Maria was learning amazingly fast. Tatiana was particularly talented.
Though the family's yearly itineraries were rarely ever the same, there were similarities. They would stay in St. Petersburg the entire winter season, which was from New Year to the middle of February. They usually spent much of the spring at Tsarskoye Selo, move on to Peterhof during the late spring, enjoy the late summer in Poland, and spend the autumn at Livadia, their Crimean palace. Finally, they cherished their early winters at Tsarskoye Selo, where the girls helped their mother and servants decorate the Christmas trees.
The girls also loved to sail on the family's Standart yacht. It gave them a chance to play and bathe on the beaches with their long striped swimsuits and swimming caps. They would gather pebbles on the shores and run and play on deck.
The young Grand Duchesses would generally wear simple white or pastel-colored dresses, but they oftentimes wore their dark blue sailor shirts and skirts, which made them look adorable as they sailed. They loved the sailors and officers, who used to carry the little girls around on the deck so they could see the horizon better. These loyal men were wholly devoted to them.
On one occasion, when an officer from the Standart asked them what they had in their hands, the children showed him little bits of green stones they had picked up and asked him to keep them if he wanted to. The officer took a little stone from each child and later attached them to his watch chain. He would never part with them, as the Tsarʼs children had found and offered them to him. All the officers treated the little maidens with the highest regard.
On another occasion, the little girls were getting on a carriage at Peterhof when an officer came running over to say good morning. The little Grand Duchesses, who were friendly creatures, began talking to him, and one of them took a little wooden toy from her pocket and asked him if he would like it. He was much pleased and afterward turned to their nanny and admitted he had been in trouble, but seeing the children coming out, he had thought that if he could reach the carriage in time to bow to the imperial children, he would get lucky and find a way out of his troubles.
"And see", the officer said, "not only did I bow to them, but I kissed their hands and received a little toy from one of them. I shall keep that toy as long as I live."
There was a tall young German officer in the Imperial Guards, and he would ask the Grand Duchess Olga for a doll almost every day: "A little tiny one that I can keep in my pocket and play with while I am on guard", he frequently said, "it would give me much pleasure." But he wanted, most of all, something from the Grand Duchess. Anything.
Poor little Olga Nicolaevna did not know whether he was joking or telling the truth. Margaretta assured her the doll would indeed give him much pleasure. Olga then brought Miss Eagar a couple of very tiny dolls dressed as boys, one minus a foot, the other without an arm. The governess said it would be better for Olga to give the young man unbroken dolls, to which the little girl replied: "Yes, but these are boys and he is a man, I am afraid he would not like a little girl dollie." Margaretta then advised her to ask him when she saw him again.
The next morning Olga put the doll into her pocket and met the officer, who immediately began to reproach her in a joking manner for having forgotten how lonely he was and what a great company a little doll would be to him. Olga plunged her hand into her pocket and produced the doll, holding it behind her back. "Which would you rather have," she asked seriously, "a boy or a girl doll?"
"A little girl doll would be like you, and I should love it very much, but a boy would be very companionable", he answered. She was quite delighted and gave him the doll, saying: "I am glad, I was so afraid you would not like the girl". He put the doll in his pocket most carefully.
Shortly afterwards, the young officer went for his holidays. When he returned, and on the first day he saw the little Grand Duchess, he began as formerly to beg for a doll.
Olga said, reproachfully: "Is it possible you have already broken the nice little doll I gave you?"
With great tact, he explained that the little doll was lonely all by itself and wanted a companion, and that it did not matter if it was broken. And so, another dollie was carried about for several days till Olga met him again and gave it to him.
Oo
When little Anastasia turned a year old, she started playing with her sisters quite often. Olga and Tatiana would look after their youngest sibling as she pranced around in the parks of Tsarskoye Selo, taking the toddler by one hand each and trying to keep up with her endless energy as she tried to run faster than her older sisters.
The four Grand Duchesses started playing tag as well, chasing each other around the trees amidst giggles. Anastasia would burst with laughter during these games, delighting her parents. Nicholas would be more than delighted, he was part of the fun. I once saw him trying to catch his four daughters at the same time. The girls cried with excitement as their father caught and picked each of them up in his strong arms, one by one. Alexandra tried but failed to take a picture.
They played on the swings. Alexandra would support Anastasia as she sat on one of them and "swung". The mother wanted the four of them to have their share of fun. Anastasia laughed so loudly it was contagious, transforming Alix back into her "sunny" self.
I remember seeing the proud mother photographing her four daughters together in the parks of Tsarskoye Selo as they went for a walk. The three oldest were dressed in pretty pink dresses, coats with round buttons, and hats with white flowers. Only the girlsʼ boots and stockings were black. The little Anastasia was wearing a huge pink hoodie tied around her head in a white bow under her chin.
They used to ride their ponies, the loyal footman Alexei Trupp guiding the reins. He also loved the girls. Olga and Tatiana liked guiding the reins of Mariaʼs little horse themselves. Riding was not solely a fun pastime for the Grand Duchesses but also a skill they had to learn for future ceremonies, just like dancing.
Although Olga, Tatiana and Maria lived fairly sheltered existences in comparison to most girls their ages, they did play with other children on occasions. Their cousins Maria and Dmitri were constant companions, and so were the children of Xenia and Sandro. By 1902, Nicholasʼs younger sister had given birth to five children: Irina, Andrei, Feodor, Nikita, and Dmitri, who was Anastasiaʼs age. The Grand Duchesses were particularly close to Irina, but they would also play for hours with the rowdy boys.
Olga Alexandrova visited her nieces almost every week to take them to see their grandmother for tea or ice cream. Both Minnie and Olga had a special relationship with the girls. Minnie liked asking her granddaughters about their day-to-day life, pastimes, classes, and to have them show her everything they had learned each week. As an aunt, Olga was fun-loving and indulging with the girls even when they misbehaved. The few times I saw them together, the Grand Duchesses and their aunt came off as uninhibited and cheerful.
Oo
Olga greatly enjoyed learning and asking questions, which is why she admired the people she considered knowledgeable. One day, her arithmetic master told her to write something down. Olga asked for permission to leave in order to go to the Russian master, who was teaching Tatiana in the next room. The arithmetic master allowed her go, but asked her the reason why. Olga explained to him she could not spell "arithmetic", to which the arithmetic master replied by telling her how to do so.
"How clever you are!" Olga exclaimed with great admiration. "And how hard you must have studied to be able not only to count so well but to spell such very long words!"
Olga spent a good portion of her time with her nanny. Consequently, the majority of her seemingly endless questions were directed at her. The governess would answer all of them with pleasure. The young girl deemed Miss Eagar a marvel of education and confided in her music master that no one in the whole world knew as much as she did.
Olga was advanced beyond most children of her age in some aspects, but she was also quite naive and isolated. On one occasion, a milliner brought the girls new hats, and Olga was greatly pleased. She told Miss Eagar that she thought the milliner was "the very kindest woman" in the world.
"She went all the way to Paris," six-year-old Olga said, "and brought us a present of those beautiful hats." Miss Eagar explained that this was the milliner's business and that the hats had been bought, not given as presents.
Olga looked a little puzzled.
"I am afraid you are making a mistake", she said, "you did not give her any money, and I know she did not go to mama for it."
It simply wasnʼt the Empress who had given the milliner her money directly, of course, but Olgaʼs only knowledge of shops and shopping was derived from the toy and sweet shops in Darmstadt.
One day, Olga asked Miss Eagar why the Americans spoke English and not American. The governess told the little girl the story of the Pilgrim Fathers and described how they had built houses, shops, and towns. Olga was exceedingly interested.
"Where did they find the toys to sell in the shops?" She inquired, to which Margaretta replied detailing the fabrication of toys.
When Miss Eagar read "Alice in Wonderland" and "Through the Looking-Glass" to the girls, Olga was horrified at the manners of the queen who chopped peopleʼs heads off.
"No queens", the little Grand Duchess asserted, "would be so rude."
As Margaretta read the section about Alice's journey by railway, Olga thought it very funny that Alice did not have a compartment to herself. Miss Eagar told her that for traveling, most people bought one ticket and occupied just one seat on the train, that some tickets cost more than others, and that the highest-priced tickets meant a better place on the train.
Olga listened carefully. "And when you travel, can anyone with the same kind of ticket you have get into the same carriage as you do?" She asked.
"Yes", Miss Eagar replied.
"If I were you", Olga said, "I should take a whole compartment for myself."
"But you forget that these other people might object to me, and say, 'I won't sit beside that person'", Margaretta explained.
"Oh no," Olga smiled. "Everyone in the whole world would be glad to sit beside you."
When Olga first read about the English cutting off Welsh Prince Llewellyn's head and sending it to London, she was awfully aghast. She later decided to read the story again.
"Well," the little girl surmised once she was done, "it was a good thing he was dead before they cut off his head, it would have hurt him most awfully if he was alive." Miss Eagar said they were not always as kind and sometimes cut the heads off living people.
"Well, I really think people are much better now than they used to be", Olga replied. "I'm very glad I live now when people are so kind."
That innocent phrase summarizes what life was for the four little girls. Loving and devoted parents, no deprivations, and only good people around them.
The Tsar and Tsarina had four bright and healthy daughters they loved to proudly show off to the world in official postcards, none of whom, because of the law, could succeed Nicholas. By 1902 though, the Tsarina seemed to have fallen pregnant once again, possibly with their long-awaited boy. It seemed like a total vindication of their friend Philippe's prayers and claims.
Alexandra had last menstruated on November 1, 1901. She anticipated the birth of her son at the beginning of the following August. The imperial couple kept the news of the pregnancy from their family as long as they could, but by the spring of 1902, it was clear that the Tsarina was getting fatter.
Philippe spent some time at St Petersburg in March of 1902. Nicholas and Alexandra visited him and listened to him for hours with great interest. The charlatanʼs influence over the Tsarina was so great that he convinced her not to allow any doctors to examine her, not even as her due date approached.
By the late summer, Alexandra was showing way too little physical signs of what was supposedly an advanced pregnancy. In spite of it, Nicholas and Alexandra traveled to their palace by the sea for the arrival of their baby, and in August 1902, manifestos announcing the birth were made ready.
Oo
When Dr. Ott took residence at Peterhof for the delivery, he immediately realized something was wrong.
On August 16, Alexandra bled. The doctors Ott and Günst were called in, but following Philippeʼs instructions, Alexandra refused to let them examine her. It took considerable persuasion before Alexandra finally allowed Dr. Ott to do so, and when he did, the most unexpected thing happened. The doctor announced that she was not pregnant. She had never been.
The scene that unfolded is almost too sad to describe. Alexandra let out a short, evidently fake laugh, turned her head around, and said to the doctor: "Well, at least there will be none of those terribly loud cannons."
The tears came soon after.
Oo
Alexandra's "phantom pregnancy" caused understandable concern among members of the imperial family.
"Dear friend, do not come," a deeply shocked and distressed Alexandra wrote to a friend. "There will be no christening, there is no child, there is nothing! It is a catastrophe!"
It was officially announced by the court physicians that the Empress had suffered a miscarriage.
Later, upon further analysis under the microscope of a discharge of blood Alexandra had experienced, Dr. Ott confirmed there had indeed been a dead fertilized egg, a growing mass of tissue inside her womb that would not have developed into a baby. In his opinion, the Empress had been suffering from a condition known as "Mole Carnosum", and the loss of blood had flushed it out.
This was never made public.
Oo
The news of the so-called miscarriage sparked a wave of merciless vilification and all kinds of outlandish rumors that the Tsarina had given birth to a deformed child, a monster. The hand of God lay heavy on the sovereigns.
As a little girl, I heard some people claim the absence of a son was the Tsar's punishment for the stampede that had taken place during the coronation festivities in Moscow. Other outrageous rumors said that Nicholas would eventually divorce Alexandra just like Napoleon Bonaparte had divorced Empress Josephine in 1810 for having failed to provide him with a son, this after fourteen years of marriage.
Nicholas comforted his wife tirelessly after the incident. He would have never abandoned his Alix.
Oo
As a nurse, I have known three women with conditions similar to that of the Empress. They had most of the symptoms: nausea, weight gain... one even claimed to be able to feel the baby kicking. It was upsetting for me to have to disclose the truth, but more so for them to hear they were not really pregnant. Bizarre.
I talked to them. Most were simply desperate for a baby, a few had harrowing personal problems. Andrei says they were hysterical.
The phenomenon is to me stranger than my own ability. All those women, wanting a baby so much, maybe fearing one, enough to lose their touch with reality.
Oo
Philippe's reputation suffered much after this alleged miscarriage. Accusations of charlatanry and meddling in affairs of state mounted against the French man, making his position at the Russian court unsustainable. Nicholas and Alexandra didn't want to part with him, but at the end of 1902, Philippe was sent back to France with gifts.
Before taking off, Philippe gifted Alexandra an icon with a small bell, which, he told her, would ring to alert her should anyone meaning her harm enter the room. She would also keep a frame with dried flowers, another special present from this charlatan, who claimed it had been touched by the hand of the Savior. Philippe departed, leaving one final prophecy:
"Someday, you will have another friend like me who will speak to you of God."