Diary of a Wimpy Czarovitch

by JG Hampton

Mama would have faltered under his lengthy interrogation. When it was all over, the minister turned to Papa and said: "Sir, your wife doesn't lie." What was Papa supposed to say to that?

  Watching his confusion, I yelled out: "Mama taught me that if I lied my nose would grow and my mouth would be washed out with strong soap. She learned that from my Great Grandmother Queen Victoria and so did Great Uncle Bertie, the former King of England." Papa, and Mama laughed realizing that I had saved both of them from a serious situation which could have had long term repercussions. The minister had been distracted and changed the subject.

  Kerensky said that he'd been wrong about my Mama. At heart she was not a conniving German spy, she was a simple devoted mother. However, he took Auntie Annya away for questioning because she'd been caught burning her letters in her bedroom. Papa and I laughed at his poor judgment. Obviously, the man wasn't much of a judge of character because Auntie Annya was the most naive of Russian women politically speaking of course. He'd find that out soon enough when he examined Annya V. carefully. She was nothing more than a lamb dressed as an adult woman parading around in a huge drawstring skirt and a virgin to boot. We all chortled that our adult child masquerading as a woman was suspected of being a German spy. One might as well suspect Saint Nicholas.

  1 May 1917 - 14 May 1917 - By now newspapers were being delivered to our palace again and we took turns reading them aloud at night. Of course, we all knew they were biased and were simply spouting whatever the new regime thought was politically correct, but it was nice once more having a link with the outside word. Mama and I enjoyed the caricatures drawn of Kerensky and the General. It was fun to laugh at someone else's expense for a change and I drew a few cartoons with their faces with some comical dialogue underneath.

  Scarcely any or our mail was allowed out, but Mama was permitted a letter to slip by to her friend Lilly Dehn. A few of Olga's letters to her girl friends were allowed to reach them as were some of Anastasia's. My letters to my Grandmama were not allowed to be mailed. Apparently, no one was allowed any information about me, the former czarovitch, in case it might start a new uprising backed by ardent supporters. How shaky, the new government must be. The new leaders were truly walking on eggshells and were as probably as confused about what was happening as we were.

  I played with my toy trains and made new cardboard people including figurines of Kerensky and the General, adding to my collection of three dimensional characters to amuse my sister and I. Anastasia told me to draw their faces in pencil because things would probably be changing and then I could simply erase them and draw in new ones. We all laughed at this comment . Anastasia and I had the most unusual conversations taking place between my tiny railroad characters. Once she had Kerensky say that perhaps the czar wasn't such a fool after all. General G. replied: "Nicholas Romanov was a bloody fool, but not such a bad leader. If one wants a bad king try England's King Henry VIII. Didn't he pave the way for women to rule by trying to kill off his wives and creating his own church? Didn't he crown himself king and head of the church when the pope excommunicated him? Mama and Papa enjoyed listening to the conversations between our tiny characters.

  Mama had recently become upset when one of the valuable dark blue Sevres vases had been broken and Anastasia said: "Mama, don't worry that vase didn't belong to us anyway, that vase belonged to the people. Mama cheered up and didn't even bother to collect the pieces of the vase for repair.

  The situation in Petrograd appeared to be changing, a Bolshevik, named Vladimir Ilyich Lenin was gaining ground. We weren't too concerned and enlarged our garden planting hundreds of cabbage plants and vegetables. At least we wouldn't starve if we had to remain confined to the palace in winter. How does one make sauerkraut anyway? What would the next month bring?

  1 June 1917 - 14 June 1917 - Lenin continues to shout: "Peace, Land and Bread." All of the things that the poor peasants hungered for and that Papa could not deliver. The provisional government was collapsing and according to the newspapers, the Bolsheviks were increasing from twenty thousand to fifty thousand. Lenin wanted the war stopped and he was making demands. From our cocoon in the Alexander Palace, we didn't realize that things were becoming extremely dangerous for us again. My father was contented and happy farmer growing his vegetables and acting as my history teacher. M. Gilliard looked so funny farming in his tweed suit and bowler hat. We all had green thumbs and it appeared that whatever we planted grew. Mama said that I'd better not stick my wooden spoons in the ground or they'd sprout. We've truly been blessed. Despite, the revolution, I've never been happier and neither has Papa. He makes a good woodchopper and a pleasant farmer.

  We started another garden for the servants and my sisters pickled cucumbers and turned cabbages into sauerkraut in our kitchen. Now barrels of kraut and pickles filled the cellar along with vintage wine and champagne. We were truly blessed despite continued harassment from our despicable guards who flirt outrageously with my sisters. Mama is teaching me my catechism and the debates about whether the Holy Spirit emanated from Jesus and Mary, or from God? I enjoy my new teachers, Mama and Papa, immensely as well as their undivided attention. In the past, they were too busy, but now they appear to have all the time in the world and give it to me. Newspapers say that Kerensky has succeeded Lvov as Prime Minister. If this is true, he will be too busy to pester us.

  30 June 1917 - June 1917 - Riots and fighting have begun again in Petrograd. Russians are tired of the lack of food and the provincial government. Kerensky arrived at our palace saying that they were after him. "Who is after you?" I asked.

  "The Bolsheviks" he said to Papa. "Soon they'll be coming after you, too," said the prime minister wiping his brow with his handkerchief. Papa winced, his respite had been all too short.

  However, the new prime minister was on our side and tried to get us moved to our palace in the Crimea, but it was not to be. For a moment, I dreamed once more of our beautiful palace in Livadia and the happy times that we spent there and so did my sisters.

  By now my sisters' hair had begun to sprout and they resembled human beings once more. Olga's hair began to curl around her head in a charming mop of riotous curls, but Anastasia's stuck out straight and still like a porcupines quills from her head. Marie's short hair made her eyes appear even larger and more luminescent like some enchanting pixie. Tatiana resembled a minstrel boy rather than a maiden. Most of the time my sisters donned the caps and wigs that my tenderhearted Papa had ordered for them from a Moscow wig maker. Soon, Papa and I would have to stave off the guards because my sisters are becoming attractive again.

  Word has come that we are going to be moving east away from Petrograd which would be safer for us and Mama is glad that we will be leaving the malevolent, lecherous guards behind. Mama's nerves were beginning to be affected again and her sciatica began to bother her. Should she pack warm clothes or lighter ones?" she asked the new prime minister. Desperately, she wanted to know where we were being sent.

  Generous Mama had given away all of her grand garments which no longer fit her to peasants. I wondered how they'd look in her beautiful clothing. Would they be as beautiful as she had been in them? Her closets were almost bare and sadly I missed the fact that I'd never see her in them again, but Mama told me not to worry because Papa had taken plenty of pictures of her dressed in her finery and we still had our photo albums and years ahead of us in which to gaze at them. Why didn't I believe her? She kept her gray engagement dress which she wore the day that she announced her engagement to Papa when she told Gangun about her coming marriage. The three cousins involved in the war, Kaiser Wilhelm, King George VI and Czar Nicholas II were all there. Wilhelm can be seen clearly looking at Auntie Ella. I've often gazed at the wonderful photograph of the family where Mama is broadly smiling. She looked so carefree and happy then. I longed to see her smile that way again. Papa had told me that when Mama smiled she made the world light up and he didn't lie either. Perhaps when we moved, she'd smile again.

  1 July 19
17 - 14 July 1917 - Mama was told to pack her furs and so she did. Her black Persian lamb coat went into the trunk and so did her sables. She kept her skirts which could be taken in, but gave away almost everything else: her hats, gloves and fine lingerie to Polish peasants and some of the aristocrats who had fallen on hard times. She'd lost so much weight that she was a mere shadow of her former self. I could now put my arms entirely around her, but I missed my plump, cushiony Mama and her sharp edges and boniness alarmed me. Shouldn't she have saved some of her magnificent gowns for my sisters? Mama told me that if God wanted them well dressed, they'd be well dressed again. Remember the lilies of the field Could anyone match them in their glory? Yet they toil and spin not." I knew that she was right and that most of this frippery didn't really matter and that I was the one being selfish trying to hang onto all of her former glory. Besides, we needed to travel light, because only God knew where we would end up. Most of their goods might be stolen by porters anyway now that we were only humble Romanovs without protection traveling by public rail and boats. I wondered about the Standart,