Diary of a Wimpy Czarovitch

by JG Hampton

named many new ministers in search of effective ones. Mama is upset that he’s ignoring her advice and therefore Rasputin’s.Mama and I laughed at a caricature of her and Papa printed in one of the newspapers showing her and Papa Czar as puppets. The likeness of her emphasizing her with a long nose was demeaning, but funny. She herself liked to draw caricatures of people as I do, but she told me that had backfired on her early in her marriage. She’d drawn Papa sitting in a baby high chair as a baby and Grandmama hadn’t been too pleased and neither had the Russian nobles who'd been shown the drawings. That innocent amusing artwork had gotten her into some hot water. After that she confined her drawing skills to designing her ball gowns and dress designs for her daughters and herself. My sisters and I have been wearing Mama's designs since we were babies. My sisters beautiful identical clothing often garners compliments from the Russian nobility. Do they realize that Mama is our couturier if not the seamstress?

  “Alexei, is my nose really that long?” Women are so sensitive about their appearance.

  “Mama," I replied, M. Gilliard says that our noses never stop growing even in the grave, but you have a very beautiful nose, not one like Rasputin’s and Father Illiodor’s noses which are almost as big as ducks beaks and which they might one day trip over.” She laughed at my comment and bent down and kissed me.

  “Thank you, sunbeam, you really are the light in my life and I cherish you.”

  30 February 1915, 16 March 1915 – I long to go to Livadia. The ball that my sister Tatiana was promised never materialized because of the war and we haven’t been back since. Will I ever see our beautiful palace again? Mama says that we cannot go there and enjoy ourselves when there is death and dying because of the war."

  “Why not? Grandmama, Aunt Olga and our other cousins have gone to their palaces in the Crimea.”

  “Alexei, Papa and I learned tragically early in our marriage that one does not dance when Russians are dying. That also applies to summering at our lavish palace when soldiers are dying in trenches. Alexei, darling, you’ve seen and read some of the hate mail that I’ve been getting. I’m not very popular at the moment,” she said. Besides, it was a subject which she didn’t want to discuss. Instead she scheduled a train ride for my sisters and I to visit several hospitals with her. It wasn’t quite the vacation that I was expecting, but more of one than Papa Czar was having at military headquarters planning battle strategies. I was relieved that we went to Peterhoff and I sailed my sail boats in the cold waters of the Baltic and then flew my kites high above the palace with Anastasia. My box kite performed best and I won the wager.

  I was tiring of eating so much porridge and our one meatless day of the week was downright depressing. Soon I would be as depressed as Mama and Auntie Annya if this continues. Wasn’t Mama carrying rationing a little too far? I wasn’t used to eating much black bread, beans, and fish, but no sooner had I thought this than I was reminded of the boy in the train station whose eyes still haunted me who didn’t even have this peasant fare. Wasn’t I an ungrateful wretch!

  1 March 1915, 14 March 1915 – My uncle Paul has returned from his exile abroad with his new wife. Cousin Kyrrill has married my Aunt Ducky who used to be married to my Uncle Ernie. Mama is disgusted at the family treachery and is exasperated that Papa is letting these traitors back into the fold let alone back into Russia. Papa says that he needs his loved ones around him and that Jesus forgave those around him who had sinned. But can they be trusted? I won’t be so kind when I’m the eighteenth Romanov czar, but then after all I am a holy terror and take after the stronger members of my illustrious ancestors, like Peter the Great and Vlad the impaler. Holy schmoly!

  Papa has even let my Uncle Paul build a new mansion near our Alexander palace. My

  cousins Dmitry and Marie are delighted to have their Papa back and plan on living with him at his new palace. Papa is too gentle and kindhearted as far as his relatives go. I wonder if Marie will still be tending wounded soldiers now that my uncle is back? Grandmama has been mortified that Marie has actually washed men's private parts and assisted in operations when gangrenous legs are amputated. No grand Lady should be doing this in her opinion let alone one of her granddaughters. Will Paul agree with her? Won't that be taking sides in our own family war? Doesn't he owe his allegiance to Mama and Papa rather than Grandmama?

  Grandmama and Grand Duke Nickolai are still rumored to be plotting against Papa Czar. Even his brother, Michael, married against his wishes. Mama says those things and the malicious gossip about her and Rasputin will bring down the dynasty, not her simple ministrations. Only a few of my relatives can be trusted in my opinion: The ones who are truly sacrificing for Holy Russia like Auntie Ella and my valiant sister Olga. The rest are wolves in sheep's clothing.

  Auntie Xenaida still writes friendly letters to Mama and I write to my cousins and I still send an occasional letter to my German enemy, Uncle Ernie and his daughter, who hasn’t had to go to the front much to Mama’s relief. Sometimes M.Gilliard allows me to count these letters as writing assignments. M. Petrov read to me in Russian about a wolf in sheep’s clothing. I wrote an essay on several people around me who I thought were dressed in sheep’s clothing and read it to Mama who made no comment other than saying: “My little czarovitch has big ears and asked me if was spying on her? What did she mean by that? Doesn't she know that I am hopelessly devoted to her? Who else but Olga, Auntie Annya and I continue to knit scarves and gloves for the poor?

  Papa banned Father Iliodor and Father Hermogen from Petrograd. Rumor has it that Father Hermogen hit my muzhik with a large cross because he had lied to the czar and czarina of Russia. Rasputin claims that they tried to kill him. Who will be next? Who is Papa to trust? Who is my muzhik to trust? Grandduke Nikolai and he used to be the greatest of friends and now he told Father Grigory that he would hang him if he came to visit him at military headquarters. Even in Siberia, my staretz is not safe. Father Iliodor had my muzhik stabbed by a woman with a long knife before he fled to Finland. Father Grigory survived, but only because my sisters and I prayed for him. It seems that his time to dies was not yet, but he must be careful, because I need him. How many lives does he have? He’s rather like one of my pet kittens rumored to have nine lives who always lands on his feet when it falls but for how long? And from how far?

  13 March 1915, 24 March 1915 – Monsieur Faberge’s Eggs have arrived and are beautifully wrapped in shiny white paper with red ribbons and Romanov two headed eagle medallions. The wrapping reminds me of the red crosses that Mama, my sisters, and my cousin Marie wears on their nursing uniforms. Is this what M. Faberge had in mind? I hope that his eggs are as beautiful as in the past. I would not want my Mama and Grandmama to be disappointed.

  This year I long for my Easter basket to be filled with large chocolate Easter eggs filled

  with cherry and mint fondant and candy coated almonds. I long for chewy jellies and jelly beans even though M. Gilliard said they are made from boiled bones as are the new desserts that are appearing on Grandmamas table from a substance known as gelatin. Will I be disappointed? I’ll

  just die if my basket is empty or only filled with hot cross buns. It seems to me that Lent has lasted for most of the year.

  I received a new suit of clothing, a naval outfit and matching cap with Russian words, because I had out grown all of my pants and my shirt sleeves were at least six inches above my wrists. Hurrah! I am now wearing long pants. I’ve had quite a growth spurt. I look handsome in navy and red white and blue. I see pictures of Papa and his brothers dressed in similar outfits in the past.

  Mama, had new white gowns made for Olga and Tatiana, but the younger pair had to make do with the older pair’s hand me down gowns with new satin sashes. This is a first for them. When Grandmama heard of this cost cutting measure, she scoffed: "That's certainly going to frighten off suitors. Have the wealthy Romanoffs come to this? Will the Grand Duchesses be manning soup kitchens ne
xt after they finish rolling bandages? Had she heard about my request for soup to be given to poor boys?

  I received Anastasia’s old night gowns with the lace removed and inventoried in Mama’s lace collection. I didn’t mind. When I wore them, it felt and smelled as if my sister’s loving arms were wrapped around me.

  Papa arrived home the night before Easter and gave Mama her present. She opened it and inside was a white enameled egg with red enameled crosses on its sides. It was starkly plain in comparison to Mama’s other past Easter eggs. When she pressed the spring inside the egg, out popped pictures of her, my sister Olga, Tatiana and cousin Marie in their nurses uniforms with the red crosses on their gowns and Papa and I in our military uniforms. Mama said with tears in her eyes, that it was probably the most special egg that she had ever received and was proof that she and her daughters were loyal and served Russia and that she really was the mamushka of the country. No other czarina in history had given their time and talents to minister to Russia’s war wounded. Papa said that she was unique and I agree then he tenderly kissed her. There will only ever be one beloved Mama for me. Monsieur