“One hundred and seventy thousand, Your Majesty.”
“So that is more than double the usual figure. Now tell me this: what is the present population of Petrograd?”
“Well, Your Majesty, excluding the garrison, there are about a million people resident in the city.”
“Then, unless I have forgotten my simple arithmetic, you are telling me that there is one soldier, armed with rifle, bayonet, lance and revolver, to every six inhabitants, including women and children. Are you seriously supposing that one soldier cannot keep six people, of whom probably two are children, two are women, and two are elderly, under control?”
Sturmer licked his lips. “That is supposing the troops are all loyal, Your Majesty. I have officers’ reports which indicate that a large part of the garrison is composed of totally inexperienced recruits, many of whom are of bad character.” Alexandra snorted, but she had not made an immediate riposte, so he hurried on. “I also have police reports which indicate that some of the officers are fraternising with the people.”
“And why should they not do that? They are not an occupying army.
Sturmer persevered. “Then there is this fellow Kerensky, making all manner of inflammatory speeches...”
“Kerensky? I have heard the name.”
“He is a lawyer, Your Majesty. He made a reputation denouncing the government over the deaths of those miners in the Lena goldfields before the war. He has always been on the side of the Jews. Now, unfortunately, he is a member of the Duma, and is denouncing the conduct of the war.”
“Is that not treason?”
“As a member of the Duma he is not subject to charges of treason, Your Majesty.”
“I remove his immunity. Arrest him, for treason or something. Hang him. Oh, go away and govern. That is what I am paying you to do.” She flounced into the inner chamber, where Olga and Tatiana were waiting, with Sonia for support. “That man drives me up the wall. What possessed our friend to recommend him defeats me.” She glared at her daughters. “And if you propose to raise the matter of the Radziwill party, the answer is still no.”
“Oh, Mama!” Olga protested. “Princess Radziwill gives such lovely parties.”
“We are in mourning,” Alexandra announced. “1 think it is in extremely had taste for that young woman to be having a party at this time in any event. Now I do not wish to discuss the matter further. I need to write to your father.” She swept from the room.
“Oh...boo!” Tatiana stuck out her tongue at the door being closed by the waiting flunkey.
“There is no point in getting upset about it, Your Highness,” Sonia suggested.
“I am upset. I am very cross. I am angry!” Tatiana shouted. “Oh...I feel all, odd.,’
She half turned and gave such a shudder that Sonia caught her before she fell down. “Oh, dear.” she said. “You’re very hot. You have a temperature.”
“Tattie? Ill?” Olga hurried up to her.
Sonia waved at the waiting maids. “Help the Grand Duchess to her room. And summon Dr Botkin.”
“Shall we tell Mama?” Olga whispered.
“Let’s hear what Botkin has to say, first.” Sonia decided.
“Measles,” Botkin pronounced.
“Oh, good Lord!” Olga complained. “Where on earth could she have got measles from?”
“I feel dreadful,” Tatiana grumbled. She had been undressed by her maids and tucked into bed., they were now tucking her up again as the doctor had finished his examination.
“Are you sure?” Sonia asked.
“Absolutely. Look.” Tatiana’s nightgown had not been tied at the neck, and now he pulled it down far enough so that Sonia could see the tiny spots. “There is no doubt about it. Her Majesty will have to be informed,” he now decided.
“I’ll do it,” Olga volunteered.
“Ah, no, Your Highness,” Botkin said. “I think you should remain in these apartments. You see, if the Grand Duchess Tatiana has contracted measles, it is extremely likely that you also have got the disease.”
Olga stared at him with her mouth open, as if he had just been rude to her. The two younger sisters had come hurrying in at the news that Tatiana was ill. Now Anastasia gave a shout of laughter. “You wouldn’t have been able to go to the Radziwill party anyway! You’ll be all spotty like Tattie.” Olga glared at her.
“Ahem!” Botkin remarked. Everyone looked at him. “I’m afraid you must remain in these apartments also, Your Highness. And the Grand Duchess Marie.”
It was their turn to stare, just as it was Olga’s turn to laugh. “You beast!” Marie shouted.
“I will inform Her Majesty,” Sonia said. “Don’t worry, doctor: I had measles as a child.”
Predictably, Alexandra was not amused. “Oh, really,” she remarked. “Measles! How common. For how long will they have to be confined?”
“Botkin says for at least two weeks, possibly longer, Your Majesty.”
“Oh, good Lord!”
“Were you planning to go anywhere, Your Majesty?”
Alexandra glared at Sonia, and then smiled. “No. Of course not. You will stay and nurse them, won’t you, Bolugayevska?”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” She had no plans to go anywhere either.
By Saturday the other three girls were infected. But they were remarkably good patients, probably because they were feeling so ill. Alexei was not allowed near them, and Sonia marshalled half a dozen of the maids who, like her, had already had the disease. She was kept quite busy, and was only vaguely aware that there was some agitation in the palace. “There’s been shooting in the city,” Botkin muttered at her.
“The police firing on the mobs, I suppose.”
“Yes. Trouble is, it seems this time the mobs are firing back.”
“Does Her Majesty know?”
“Of course. But she takes the view that it is just high spirits. Also, it is a fact that all the restaurants and theatres were full last night, as well as the ballet, and that the Princess Radziwill has not cancelled her ball, so it really cannot be very serious.”
Sonia presumed he was right; it had all happened before. Sunday was a quiet day out at Tsarskoye Selo, but she awoke with a start on Monday morning to a great clamour. She had been given a bed actually in the Grand Duchesses’ apartments, and they were also awake, although none of them was up to leaving their beds. “Do ask them to be quiet, Bolugayevska,” Olga begged.
Sonia went downstairs, to find the Tsaritsa, wearing a dressing gown and with her hair in pigtails, standing in the main hall surrounded by anxious officers. “It is true, Your Majesty,” one of these was saying. “There was shooting yesterday, so this morning Captain Lashkevich called out his battalion of the Volynski Regiment to put an end to this trouble, and, Your Majesty...” The captain seemed unable to go on.
A lieutenant took up the tale. “When cartridges were issued to the guardsmen, Your Majesty, they loaded their rifles, and then turned and shot the captain. Then they marched off to join the mob.”
Alexandra stared at him, then looked at Sonia, as if she was the only sane person present. “The Preobraschenski, Your Majesty,” Sonia suggested. She knew Alexei had in his youth been an officer in Russia’s premier regiment, and had always spoken highly of it.
“Of course,” Alexandra agreed. “There is a detachment of the Preobraschenski in the city. Turn them out, and the Cossacks, and have these mutineers dealt with.” The officers saluted and hurried off. “We’ll soon have this mess at an end,” the Empress declared. “Mitlin!” One of the secretaries came forward. “You’ll send a telegram to His Majesty informing him of what is happening. But tell him I have it under control.”
Mitlin bowed.
Alexandra returned to her apartment to get dressed, and Sonia went back up to the girls, who were by now extremely agitated. She persuaded them to remain in bed, then dressed herself, had breakfast, and went out on to the terrace to look in the direction of the city. As she watched, a smoke-pall began to b
uild above the distant houses; someone must have authorised a special release of fuel, she thought.
She spent some time with the girls, then heard the growl of automobile engines and went downstairs again. The officers were hack, some of them, looking more agitated than ever. “The Preobraschenski have bayoneted their colonel,” one of them said. Sonia’s stomach seemed to do a complete roll. The Preobraschenski! “The mob have fired the Duma building.” The smoke! she thought. Oh, my God!
Alexandra entered the room; her face was pale but she looked at her most regal. “1 have just received a telegram from the Tsar,” she announced. “His Majesty’s train is on its way back to Petrograd, now. He will be here tomorrow, and will settle this matter himself. You may return to your duties, gentlemen.”
The officers exchanged glances. “We feel we should remain here, Your Majesty, with our men. It is our duty to defend Your Majesty and your family.”
Alexandra glared at him. “Do you seriously suppose we are in danger?”
The captain hit his lip. “The mob is in control of Petrograd, Your Majesty
Alexandra continued to stare at him for some seconds, then she repeated, “His Majesty will be here, tomorrow,” and left the room.
Anton knocked on Sonia’s door. Like her, he had been keeping a very low profile in the two months they had been at Tsarskoye Selo. “What are we do to, madame?”
“The Tsar will be here tomorrow,” Sonia told him.
“Do you really suppose the Tsar can end this revolution, merely by appearing, madame?”
“Anton, if you do not believe that, then you had better leave here, immediately, and join the mob.”
Anton licked his lips. “And you, madame?”
“I have promised to stay, with the Grand Duchesses. Besides, I believe in the Tsar.” What a lie, she thought, as the major-domo shuffled off. I hate this tsar, for what his policemen have done to me. But then, does that not mean I must hate his family? She could not bring herself to do that.
“What will Papa do, when he gets back?” Marie asked. “I’m afraid he will probably have to shoot a lot of people, and hang a lot more,” Sonia said.
“How awful,” Anastasia said. “I wish he didn’t have to do that.”
“Those people are in rebellion,” Olga said severely. “They need to be hanged and shot. Some of them.”
“Time to take temperatures,” Sonia said, producing the thermometers.
Olga had not even been born when she had been sentenced to death by the Tsar’s court. That her sentence had been commuted to exile had been the merest chance, simply because Patricia had been condemned with her, and the Tsar had not wanted to hang the daughter of one of his most noble families. But presumably, had Olga been alive and able to understand, she would have declared, that woman Cohen is in rebellion against us, she should be hanged. Or shot. Yet she was such a charming girl!
*
The palace remained in a state of suspended animation throughout the rest of the day. From the terraces they could see that Petrograd was burning in several places. From the various officers who from time to time arrived, clearly terrified, they heard the most horrendous tales of murder and mayhem in the city. Yet at Tsarskoye Selo all remained peaceful. It was the next morning, as Sonia was helping serve the Grand Duchesses their breakfasts, that they heard the sound, as if a huge sea was gathering force to break on an empty beach.
They gazed at each other in wonder, while Sonia’s stomach did another of those somersaults. But she was becoming used to coping with them. “I think, Your Highnesses,” she said. “That it might be an idea for you to get up and get dressed.”
“But we’re ill,” Tatiana protested.
“Yesterday you said we weren’t to get up,” Marie pointed out.
Sonia looked at Olga. Now they could hear a succession of sharp cracks, rising above the approaching tumult. Olga swallowed. “I think Bolugayevska is quite right,” she said. “It is time we got up and got dressed.” She got out of bed herself, and beckoned her personal maid to help her remove her nightgown.
One of the maids had gone to the window. “People!” she gasped. “Thousands and thousands of people! Marching on us.”
The Grand Duchesses insensibly moved closer together. “They wouldn’t dare come in here!” Tatiana said, putting her arms round her two younger sisters.
“Get dressed!” Olga shouted. It was the first time Sonia had ever heard her shout. Now, as her maids held her drawers for her to step into, she beckoned Sonia closer. “What is going to happen to us?” she whispered.
“Pray God, nothing, Your Highness.”
“But suppose...” Olga hit her lip.
“If they cannot be stopped, if they come in here...”
Sonia took a deep breath. “You must remember you are Romanovs. Whatever they do to you, you are royal princesses. You must never scream or shout or beg.” Olga looked past her at her sisters. “They will do what you do, Your Highness,” Sonia told her.
The petticoat was raised to Olga’s shoulders, the straps settled in place. “Will you stay with us?” she asked.
Sonia hesitated. But she had nowhere to run. And she had suffered what she feared was going to happen before, when she had been younger than this girl, or Tatiana. She had screamed and shouted and begged. But she would not do so again, and perhaps she could set them an example. “I will stay,” she promised.
“Thank God!”
“What must we do, Your Highness?” asked the maid.
Olga looked at Sonia. “They cannot help us, Your Highness.” What she really meant was, do we want them here, watching us being raped?
“You may go,” Olga said. “All of you.”
“But I’m not dressed,” Anastasia complained.
“Bolugayevska will finish dressing you. Off you go now, all of you.” She clapped her hands. The maids fled from the room, and Sonia closed the door. “Lock it,” Olga commanded.
“No,” Sonia said. “That lock will not keep anyone out. And if they break in, they will be the more inflamed.” She finished dressing Anastasia. “Now, brush your hair,” she told them all. They obeyed. “Now,” she said. “I think we should all sit together, on the settee.”
“Can’t we look out of the window?” Marie asked. “No. If we can see them, they can see us.”
They sat together, Olga in the middle, her sisters to either side. Sonia stood behind them. “If they come in, will they...?” Tatiana hesitated, then touched her breast.
“You must be very brave, and treat them with contempt,” Olga said. “No matter what they do to you.”
Marie burst into tears. Sonia supposed they must all be on the edge of a complete breakdown. Up to yesterday they had been omnipotent, inviolable, almost, one could say, untouched by human hand, unless it had been washed, perfumed, encased in a new glove, and utterly gentle as well as servile. Now they faced a mob of human hands which would be filthy and grasping, brutal and degrading. The mighty, thrown to the floor to be trampled into dust. And their fate would be compounded by their beauty, their sheer desirability.
The noise was growing all the time. Now the firing was almost continuous, but then it died. The palace had had insufficient guards, and perhaps not all of them had been had been sufficiently loyal. Now they listened to shouts and screams, close at hand; perhaps the maids had not got away, after all. They listened too to the sound of tearing drapes and smashing wood. And bawdy laughter. Olga suddenly sat straight. “Mama! Alexei!”
“Don’t think about them, now,” Sonia snapped. “Don’t think.” Exist, she thought. These may be your last minutes on earth. Exist, and if you are alive in an hour’s time, you may live forever.
The doors were thrown open, and they gazed at the mob. The sisters insensibly rose to their feet. Perhaps they had never seen the lower classes of their father’s subjects before, close to.
The noise slowly died, as the five women stared at the mob, and the mob, both men and women, stared back. Sonia knew it wou
ld require only a single movement, perhaps a single word, to set the whole unthinkable scenario moving; she was almost afraid to breathe. “Aside! Stand aside!”
Sonia’s breath was released in a rush, as the people moved away from the door, before a group of men in uniform. Sonia could not tell if they were officers, for they wore no insignia, but they certainly moved with authority, and the man at their head, a tall, somewhat cadaverous looking fellow, exuded arrogance. “Close the doors,” he commanded, and the men behind him obeyed. “I am Alexander Kerensky,” he announced.
The Grand Duchesses had heard their mother denounce that name; they huddled closer together. Not for the first time Sonia felt utterly isolated. “I have assumed responsibility for your safety,” Kerensky said. “But you must co-operate with me. You will remain here, and there will be a guard on that door. Food will be sent to you.”
Olga drew a deep breath. “Is our mother safe? And our brother?”
“Yes.”
“When will Papa get here?” Tatiana asked. “The Tsar,” she explained.
“Monsieur Romanov will be here today, I should think. You must understand, young ladies, that your father is no longer the Tsar. He abdicated two days ago. There is no longer a tsar in Russia. Therefore there are no longer any Grand Duchesses. You are plain Mademoiselles Romanov, now. You must understand this, and accept it.” Sonia could not believe her ears; three hundred years of history had come to an end, just like that. And while she believed that Kerensky did intend to protect them, she could also tell that he had enjoyed stripping them of their power. The Grand Duchesses stared at him, almost uncomprehendingly. Kerensky turned to Sonia. “Who are you?”
“That is Bolugayevska,” Olga said before Sonia could frame a reply. “She is our lady.”
“Bolugayevska,” Kerensky said, putting a frightening amount of meaning into the word. “You’ll leave the room, madame.”
Sonia bit her lip as she looked at the girls. “You cannot send her out to the mob,” Tatiana shouted. “She is our friend.”
“She will not be harmed,” Kerensky assured her. “If she does as she is told. Open the door,” he commanded.
The Red Tide Page 24
