In another letter, she expressed similar feelings: “You know that I do not meddle in politics, but if I see how difficult the ministers are sometimes making things for the emperor, I cannot help trying to smooth things out.”845
On an international scale, Wilhelm became a symbol of monstrous villainy. He alone was blamed for the war. Never mind that Franz Joseph of Austria had actually started the war. Never mind that Wilhelm had rushed to stop the outbreak of hostilities. The culpability was declared to be his alone. From London to Saint Petersburg, he was accused of ordering the indiscriminate killing of women and children in Belgium. Even within Germany, he began receiving criticism for leading the empire into a war that was requiring too much money, taking too long, and costing too many lives. It was a different story for Dona. The empress continued to represent to all her people the paragon of German womanhood. Princess Catherine Radziwill observed that Dona “was thoroughly German in everything she did, from the manner in which she pinned her hat upon her head to the serious interest she took in all matters connected with the welfare of Germany, and particularly that of the poorer classes.”846 She was perhaps best summed up with the expression kinder, kuche, kirche (“children, kitchen, church”)—a devotion to her family, her home, and her religion. Crown Prince Willy paid tribute to his mother: “I say with ardent pride: she is the very pattern of a German wife whose best characteristics are seen in the fulfilment [sic] of her duties as wife and mother.”847 And in the words of another contemporary, “Every housewife, every mother, looks to her as to a model, knows that she is satisfied to excel in her purely domestic duties, and that she does not strive to render herself superior to her sex by intellectual brilliancy and scientific attainments.”848
The task of keeping a simple domestic routine for her family in Berlin was an onerous one for Dona as the war continued without any visible sign of a conclusion. She spent her evenings by the fire, knitting clothes for soldiers, making arrangements to care for the wounded or the widowed, or taking tea with her ladies. On the occasions when her husband returned from Spa, she worked to entertain him and his entourage. But even those instances were becoming few and far between. As much as Wilhelm loved his wife and valued her calming influence, it was no secret that he preferred to spend his leisure hours in the company of men—soldiers, ministers, or other princes. “In the Kaiser’s militarily dominated, ultra-chauvinist Second Reich, a Prussian soldier’s life was built around male bonding and the Spartan ideal of soldierly companionship,” wrote one author. “Women were generally considered to be useful for breeding, cooking and polishing a chap’s spurs: for real friendship, one looked to one’s fellow officers.”849 This was largely due to the “dissatisfaction that the Emperor feels in the narrow circle of his home.” Despite Dona’s best efforts, “the presence the Empress and her entourage imposes on him make him uncomfortable.”850 This dichotomy Wilhelm experienced in his relationship with his wife was not a luxury he could afford much longer. Necessity would soon force him to rely on Augusta Victoria like never before.
As the leader of Germany, Wilhelm II served as head of state and commander in chief of armed forces belonging to the empire’s twenty-five constituent states. By this point in the war, however, Dona was adept enough to notice that a shift in Germany’s power base had occurred. Wilhelm seemed to have less influence in military matters than ever. When a series of attacks backfired that the emperor planned, governing authority began to move into the hands of his chief of the general staff Paul von Hindenburg and his deputy Erich Ludendorff, two men who had assisted in planning the successful Battle of Tannenberg. Germany was transitioning from a federated empire to a military dictatorship under Hindenburg and Ludendorff. To secure their hold on the civilian government, the two men threatened to resign unless Wilhelm forced Theobald von Bethmann-Hollweg, his chancellor, to resign. With his generals taking control, Wilhelm II began to lose his grip on reality. His famously quixotic moods became almost unstable. Dona watched anxiously from one day to the next as her husband alternated between a sense of total despair and deluded dreams of victory over the Entente.
The trials Dona was faced with became too much for the fifty-eight-year-old empress. Emotionally, she may have had a wellspring of fortitude to draw on, but physically, she began to suffer. Like Alexandra of Russia, Dona’s health was worsening with each passing year. She was weak, had trouble walking or standing for any length of time, and suffered from worsening heart disease. She did everything she could to take her mind off her failing health. One of the ways she coped was by keeping a close eye on her children. Her sons followed in the tradition of the Prussian royal family, and each took up commissions in the military. Unfortunately, the princes possessed little combat expertise. Shortly after the war began, Auwi’s poor judgment led to a serious automobile crash. His driver was killed, and both of the prince’s legs were each fractured in twelve places.
Crown Prince Willy had become famous for his blundering command decisions. He expended nearly a million soldiers trying to capture the fortress at Verdun, which ultimately failed and resulted in a French victory. In the ensuing aftermath, Willy was captured by Russian troops. Knowing that Dona would be desperate for news of her son, Alexandra took the time to send her a personal note. Sent through the tsarina’s cousin Crown Princess Margaret in neutral Sweden, she assured Dona “that her son was safe and well.” When Alexandra told Nicholas about the letter, she admitted it was only the act of “a mother pitying another mother.”851 The crown prince was later released into the custody of the German military.
In watching over her children, Dona was always especially concerned for her youngest son, Prince Joachim. Much to his father’s resentment, Joachim had always been a sickly, weak-willed child who frequently clung to the empress. Dona worried about him in much the same way Tsarina Alexandra fretted over Alexei. But as he grew older, the emotionally volatile Joachim chafed under his mother’s constant presence and sought his own independence. His first step was joining the military. His second step was getting married. He developed a friendship with Prince Eduard of Anhalt, who commanded a Prussian cavalry regiment on the Belgian front. It was a propitious meeting, because Eduard’s daughter Princess Marie-Augusta was looking for a husband. It did not take Joachim long to propose to this attractive, young princess. The match was something of a throwback to older, arranged marriages—Joachim was twenty-five, and Marie-Augusta had just turned eighteen. Earning a brief reprieve in his duties for his wedding, Joachim returned to Berlin in March 1916, along with the Anhalts and his family. The ceremony at Bellevue was a simple Lutheran service with only a few guests. Dona beamed with pride, but the emperor was noticeably absent. Wilhelm argued that his duties at Spa were too pressing for him to return home for a “simple wedding.” Both Joachim and Dona were deeply hurt by Wilhelm’s effrontery, but they did not let it ruin the day. In their article about the wedding, the London Times conspicuously noted that the “Emperor William was not present.”852
Along with visiting soldiers and working to improve morale, the queen of England was resolute that her own household should be in order. This took several forms. It was vitally important to the king and queen that their family be actively involved in the war effort. On the home front, Princess Mary made her own rounds to hospitals and factories. She spearheaded a campaign to support British servicemen and their families. For Christmas 1914, she developed the Princess Mary’s Christmas Gift Fund, which sent more than £100,000 in gifts to soldiers and sailors that year.
Economizing within the monarchy was a top priority. The queen believed it was of the utmost importance to do away with all royal extravagance. This was partly prompted by a food shortage in England. German submarines had succeeded in destroying supply lines to Great Britain, cutting it off from continental help. With little option left, food began to be rationed. The queen anticipated this latest hardship long before it began. She instituted a rationing system for all the royal residences months before the crisis un
folded. She personally planted and harvested her own vegetables at her country estate, Frogmore, near Windsor Great Park. “Over and above the vision,” said one of Mary’s friends, “the Queen acutely felt the horrors and hardships of the soldiers in the trenches, and, at all times deprecating extravagance, even comfort now seemed to her almost criminal.”853
In the queen’s personal wartime economy, frivolous expenses were the first things on the list to go. This came somewhat naturally to the queen who, since her family’s humiliating exile to Florence in 1883, had learned to develop parsimonious spending habits when money was in short supply. At Buckingham Palace, the king and queen cut the heat to almost every room in the building. Their hot water supply was rationed, meaning George could only have a hot bath once a week. The rest of the time, he and Mary bathed in cold water. Meals were another place where the king and queen saved money. Mutton replaced lamb, pink blancmange was consumed instead of mousses and sorbets, and alcohol was strictly prohibited—though this one vice the social elite were unwilling to give up. Thanks to the royal family’s budgeting, the king and queen were able to return £100,000 to the national treasury. The queen’s willingness to share in her people’s hardships, combined with the fact that she easily mixed with people of all classes, made her almost as iconic as Queen Victoria.
While Nicholas was away at Stavka, Alexandra was determined to rule with a firm hand. In her letters, she was obstinate that Nicholas must rule harshly: “Play the Emperor! Remember you are the Autocrat. Speak to your Ministers as their Master.… Be like Peter the Great.… Crush them all. No, don’t laugh, you naughty child. I so long to see you treat in this way those who try to govern you, when it is you who should govern them.”854 Unlike Queen Mary’s and Empress Augusta Victoria’s influence on their husbands, which was sometimes encouraged, Alexandra’s attempts to govern Nicholas were misguided and faulty. Alexandra’s growing number of enemies claimed her meddling was the direct result of Rasputin’s influence. Rasputin actually had little to do with the appointments and dismissals of ministers that the empress was making at this point. Most of these decisions were now made by the tsarina alone. She even went as far as shuffling the tsar’s cabinet. According to one estimate, between 1915 and 1917, “Russia had four prime ministers, five ministers of the interior, four ministers of religion, four ministers of justice, three ministers of agriculture, three foreign ministers, and four ministers of war. Twenty-six men held these seven positions over a twenty-four month period.”855
Alexandra’s ineffective rule was not only damaging Russia; it was even beginning to hurt the Romanovs’ close relationship with the British royal family. Marie Feodorovna regularly sent updates to Queen Alexandra at Marlborough House about the situation in Saint Petersburg. The tsarina “is ruining both the dynasty and herself,” Minnie wrote around the time her daughter-in-law started shuffling ministers.856 Queen Alexandra, who was loyal to her sister above all else, later told King George, “I am sure she [the tsarina] thinks herself like their Empress Catherine [the Great].”857
This game of musical chairs in the government could not have come at a worse time for Russia. By 1916, the war had changed from a European conflict into a crusade, a holy war, against Germany. The name of Russia’s capital, Saint Petersburg, was deemed to be too German sounding and was changed to the more Slavic Petrograd. The London Times reported that “this war is holy to every one, and its motto is—getting rid of the German spirit of life.”858 German successes on the battlefield gave rise to fears that an invasion of Russia was imminent. Even Russo-Baltic aristocrats with German-sounding surnames and titles were forced to produce documents proving their Slavic ethnicity.
The Germanophobia in Russia struck particularly close to home for Alexandra, who was now not only accused of ineptitude and adultery but treason and insanity as well. Contemporaries claimed she was insane as a way of explaining her otherwise inexplicably bizarre decisions. One historian commented on the pitfalls of ascribing insanity to rulers: “A further problem arises from the fact that the ‘madness’ of sovereigns has sometimes been a political rather than a strictly medical category. As Janet Hartley has observed, British ambassadors and statesmen were prone to regard Tsar Alexander I of Russia as deranged, but generally only when they suspected him of acting against British interests.” Explanations for Alexandra’s behavior have been as varied as the years since her life have been long. More often than not, popular trends in society have influenced analyses not only of Alexandra but numerous other monarchs as well. In the 1890s, immediately before and after she married Nicholas, Alexandra was labeled as having bad nerves or nervous anxiety. In the first two decades of the twentieth century, when republicanism was on the rise after the First World War, Alexandra was the product of failing dynasties, corrupted and degenerate. Those who took on the task of examining her life in the 1920s filtered their analyses through newly popularized psychological paradigms established by experts like Freud or Jung. The tsarina, so went some arguments, must have suffered from neurosis or some repressed sexuality. With breakthroughs in science and medicine in the last thirty years, neurology and genetics became the focus of studying Alexandra and the Romanovs—inbreeding must have led to genetic mutations, diseases, and so on.859
Many Russians noticed striking similarities between the much-maligned empress and history’s most ill-fated German queen, the archduchess Maria Antonia of Austria, more famously remembered as Marie Antoinette of France. The parallels were undeniable. Both were German-born princesses, both married into the most extravagant monarchies in the world at that time, and both came to be the scapegoats for their nations’ problems. Even the way in which the tsarina and her family lived in semiseclusion at Tsarskoe Selo echoed “the simplistic charade enacted by Marie Antoinette in Le Hameau at Versailles before the Terror swept the Bourbons from their throne.”860 Alexandra was fascinated by Marie Antoinette and all deposed queens in general. She owned a number of items that had once belonged to the French queen, including a series of paintings and tapestries that had once adorned the walls of Versailles and Marie Antoinette’s private château, the Petite Trianon. It is doubtful Alexandra was aware of her similarities to Marie Antoinette, but the very notion of her being a German spy made her angry beyond words. Despite being a Hessian princess and a cousin of the most hated man in Europe, Alexandra was as anti-German as anyone could be. King George V said of her, “I have known her all my life, and pro-German that she is not.”861 Even when her brother, Ernie, tried to contact her through an old servant in Austria, she refused his communiqué. Nicholas II’s brother-in-law Sandro was one of the tsarina’s greatest supporters. He wrote that she “was far above all her contemporaries in fervent Russian patriotism. Raised by her father, the Duke of Hesse-Darmstadt, to hate the Kaiser, she dreamed all her life to see the day of Prussia’s debacle, and next to Russia her admiration lay on the side of Great Britain.”862
Sandro’s comments also touched on another important point for Alexandra. After her loyalty to Russia, she was a fervent Englishwoman. Maurice Paléologue, the French ambassador to Russia during the war, confirmed his belief in Alexandra’s patriotism in his diary: “Alexandra Feodorovna is German neither in mind nor spirit and has never been so.… In her inmost being she has become entirely Russian … I have no doubt of her patriotism.… Her love for Russia is deep and true. And why should she not be devoted to her adopted country which stands for everything dear to her as woman, wife, sovereign and mother?”863 Unfortunately—like with her nursing—most people never saw the tsarina’s patriotic side. Prone to glowering and infirmed with heart trouble and pain in her back and legs, she often retreated into her palaces at Petrograd or Tsarskoe Selo. This only added to the rumors swirling about her. Her charity work, her duties as a Red Cross nurse, and her role as a devoted Christian mother did little to help her. She was openly sneered as the Nemka.
In spite of her critics, Alexandra continued to be adamant that Russia needed strength and resolve in ord
er to be ruled. Though she was neither despotic nor a tyrant, she was not in favor of granting reforms that gave more power to the masses. As a by-product of Queen Victoria’s court, she believed that conservatism, traditionalism, and royalty remaining separated from the people were the proper ways to rule an empire. She failed to grasp the nature of Britain’s highly successful constitutional monarchy that was now being presided over by her cousin George.
Alexandra’s fierce determination was also fueled by a desire to see her son inherit the same empire that belonged to his father. She wrote to Nicholas in 1916, “I feel cruel worrying you, my sweet, patient Angel—but all my trust lies in our friend [Rasputin], who only thinks of you, Baby [Alexei] & Russia.—And guided by Him we shall get through this heavy time. It will be hard fighting, but a Man of God’s is near to guard yr. boat safely through the reefs—& little Sunny [Alix] is standing as a rock behind you, firm & unwavering with decision, faith & love to fight for her darlings & our country.”864 This type of thinking from Alexandra, coupled with her devotion to Rasputin, played right into the hands of her enemies. The political situation in Petrograd became especially precarious later that year when the tsarina’s new criteria for appointing government ministers was only “their ineptitude and for their association with Rasputin.”865
With Nicholas II away at Stavka and Alexandra playing musical chairs in Petrograd, disturbing signs hinted at the tempest gathering over Russia. Outcries against the monarchy in general became widespread as the accusations against Alexandra continued to mount. She refused to acknowledge any of it, however. Her lifelong obduracy made her myopic to the grim reality of the situation. French ambassador Maurice Paléologue met with Alexandra around this time. He recalled that she tried to be pleasant but “said little, as usual.” She struck Paléologue as a kind of “automaton. The fixed and distant gaze made me wonder whether she was listening to me, or indeed heard me at all. I was horrified to think of the omnipotent influence this poor neurotic woman exercised on the conduct of affairs of State!”866
Imperial Requiem: Four Royal Women and the Fall of the Age of Empires Page 42
