by JG Hampton
obstinate grand mothers, Marie Feodorovna and Queen Victoria, both proud women, who could strike a person dead with one of their glowering looks. Apparently both of these dowagers had backbones of steel reinforced with their boned corsets.
Mama laughed at papa and he kissed her three times on each cheek, the Russian way
and then he buzzed her on the lips, the way she liked. I kissed them both and so did my
sisters, we’re a kissing, demonstrative family.
Afterwards, we had refreshments: vanilla ice cream with various liqueurs and hot coffee for Mama. I prefer crème de menthe liqueur but Mama likes coffee favored liquer. We all enjoyed cook’s hand dipped milk chocolates with cherry cordial and raspberry cream centers that I’d helped her make along with some Pferneusse cookies which contained real pepper which Mama loved during the holiday season when she lived in her Papa's palace in Hesse-Darmstadt.
Anastasia and I helped cook cut out the shapes with heart and cross shaped cookie cutters. Papa loved the treats, but the ice cream made his teeth hurt. He needs to go to the dentist, and be brave like I am, but he says that since he’s the czar, he can go to the dentist if and when he pleases, and he chooses not to go and mama cannot even cajole him into going although she makes us have regular dental check ups. Mama has had her front teeth replaced with porcelain ones, and my sisters have had several dental caries, but I have not even one filling. Because I brush and polish my teeth every night before I go to bed or after I eat sweets. Anastasia has told me how unpleasant it is to have one’s teeth drilled and I don't want to have to suffer in that way. I suffer enough with my bleeding disease. Is Papa afraid of the dentist I wonder? No, Papa is not afraid of anything, but my medical condition which may rob him of his son.
21 February 1914, 7 March 1914 - When irate Japanese jumped out and tried to kill Papa during his world tour, he scarcely believed what was happening and he never cries when the old wound pains him if the temperature drops like I do. I’ve seen his bloody handkerchief from the assassination attempt on his life. I hope that I can be as brave. Papa believes that if he had been meant to die, he would have been killed then. His time was not up. Mama believes the same. There is no use worrying about one’s death until God allows it. Some things we have no control over.
Mama calls me her brave sufferer. Now I shall not be able to cry out as loudly when my leg pains me. Perhaps that’s why she called me that. If anyone can manipulate behavior it is Mama. She is now answering some of Papa’s less important correspondence; something my sisters never thought possible. Grandmama Dear is in an uproar about this, especially since she learned that one of Mama’s advisors is Father Grigory, the staretz. What is the world coming to?
Will Father Grigory rule Russia from behind Mama's petticoats?
22 February 1914, 8 March 1914 – We received portraits from our English relatives. Queen Mary and King George, papa’s look alike cousin who appeared absolutely regal in their royal robes. Mama said: “Now there is the epitome of a queen.” when she gazed at Queen Mary’s portrait. “To think that I could have been in her place had Prince Eddy survived and we'd wed. Unfortunately, I did not love poor Eddy, Queen Alexandra’s eldest son, and refused to become betrothed to him. Grandmother was enraged, but acquiesced to my wishes and didn’t push the romance. He was not destined to be the King of England and I was not meant to be the queen. May does an excellent job managing Georgy's temperament. He certainly keeps his sons and Princess Mary in awe of him."
My ears positively stood up perked up like Mama’s black Scottish terrier when she said this. What if Mama had married someone other than Papa. Where would I be now?
“Fate intervened and took Eddy during the influenza season. Neither he nor I, could have ruled England, but George and May are reigning magnificently,” said my Mama.
“Queen Mary is wearing at least nine diamond necklaces on her tall, stately neck.” said Papa laughing when he saw her picture. “Is she trying to out bejewel the Romanovs?” My sisters all gathered around excitedly viewing the portraits for themselves before they were placed in a position of honor in Mama's mauve boudoir.
“How elegant!” said Tatiana putting her hands around her own long, neck envisioning how she’d look in the necklaces in her mind’s eye and staring at the queen’s crown.
“Perhaps I’ll wear that many necklaces one day. One must look as well as act royal.” says Grandmama Dear. Ruling is all about appearances.” said Mama’s second born, Tatiana.
“Is there a picture of the princess royal?” asked Olga. She’s in the same position as Alexei being the only girl in her large family of brothers.” I wondered if she disliked being the "only" as much as I did?
“I’ve heard rumors that Cousin George heartily dislikes the Prince of Wales and that hehas no confidence in his ability to rule. Heaven help the English. George has terrified his children and don’t they all show it.”
“Papa, thank you for loving us and being gentle and kind, I would not want a despot for a father and I would not want to be forced to marry a person I did not love like my namesake Olga” said his eldest daughter putting her arm lovingly around her father.
“Nevertheless, Queen Mary made a fine marriage. She was from a lowly, ignoble family and now she rules over all of them. I’m planning for at least one of you girls to make such a marriage. Don’t disappoint me.” said Mama looking sharply at Olga.
“Mama, I am afraid I already have; you know that Prince Carol is not for me.”
“Nevertheless, I’m certain that you’ll perform your duty daughter.” Olga looked at her Papa imploringly.
23 February 1914, 9 March 1914 – I wondered who would win this battle of wits, would Mama or Olga and Papa. I knew that kind Papa would never make my sister Olga marry someone she didn’t love, and Mama had just told us herself that she refused to marry a prince she didn’t love. Olga was home free to remain on the shelf for as long as she wanted. My parents had just out manipulated themselves. Would any of my sisters leave home I wondered, or would all of them remain old maids? One of Great Grandmother's sons had married a Russian Grand Duchess. I would have to discover if it had been a happy marriage for those involved.
24 February 1914, 10 March 1914 – Soon we would begin our yearly migration to Livadia, the beautiful palace above the Black sea, which my parents had designed and built after the dark old gloomy palace where Czar Alexander III had died had been torn down. I could hardly wait for the weather to thaw and began planning what I should take with me. I’d take my dog, Joy, even though she still made messes on our carpets which the servants had to clean up. That night around our dining room table, we all worked in our photograph albums trying to catch them all up before we left for our vacation. Papa meticulously pasted in his favorite photographs while I bribed Anastasia for some of her funny shots. Monsieur Gilliard read to us Victor Hugo's Les Miserables in French, When his voice tired reading, Tatiana read from The One Hundred and One Arabian Nights” while Mama continued her needlework. I was feeling quite healthy and had not relapsed from my illness. Auntie Annya showed me how to end my knitting and bind off my knitted scarf. I was proud of my first knitted item and wondered how much I could sell it for in order to give money to the poor. Surely, something knit by the czarovitch would fetch a large price. I explained this to Anastasia and she laughed and said: “Keep dreaming, Alexei. Perhaps
a blind man will want it for his collection of czarist objects or the blind mole will want to bury the swallow in it in Hans Christian Anderson's Tale of Thumbelina.” She said with a wink at Papa who couldn’t help laughing when he heard this. We could always count on Anastasia to lighten our spirits during the long winter nights.
25 February 1914, 1l March 1914 – Papa has shown me the beautifully wrapped packages of the Easter eggs that Monsieur Faberge’s has made for Mama and Grandmama. They are elegantly wrapped in pale blue marbleized pastel paper with large satin bows of the same color.
Papa has no idea what the eggs look like- only that he has never been disappointed by Monsieur Faberge in the past and neither has Mama and Grandmama dear. He is truly the jeweler to the Czars, a most cunning artisan of rare abilities. He made Mama’s engagement gift of a long necklace of perfectly matched pearls, her sattoir, which she wears practically every day of her life; Papa gave the opulent strand to her as an engagement gift along with a matching ring.
“Your Mama is my pearl of great price, Alexei. I would have been lost without her in the beginning when my Papa died and even now.” confided Papa to me one day as our barber trimmed our hair. “Her grandmother, Queen Victoria’s breath was taken away at the magnificence of her favorite grandchild’s betrothal gift. The old queen had never seen anything so superb in all of her years." said the czar reminiscing with stars in his eyes.
“You’ll need to plan something special for your own betrothal. It is never too soon to begin planning, son. I fell in love with your mother when I was in my teens at Peterhoff where we were playing a game. I was about sixteen at the time and your mother was nothing more than an enchanting child. I tried to give her a brooch as a token of my affection, but she stabbed me with
