Anastasia

by Carolyn Meyer

  23 November/6 December 1916

  Papa is home, and as a special treat he and Mama are attending the ballet in Petrograd. My sisters and I are going, and Anya, too! We’re very excited, for since the war began we haven’t attended any balls or parties or done anything at all exciting.

  Alexei isn’t going. He can’t walk well just now, and it would cause too much gossip if the tsarevitch had to be carried by one of the sailors. I’m a little afraid that at the last moment Mama and Papa will decide that none of us should go, because that would cause less attention than if only the tsarevitch is missing.

  24 November/7 December 1916

  The ballet was absolutely enchanting! The Maryinski Theater is so pretty, with gold brocade and red velvet everywhere. Mama wore a beautiful gown of ice-blue satin embroidered with pearls, we wore blue velvet, and Anya wore a gown that might have looked better as a lamp shade. (I mentioned this to Tatiana, who says I am too cruel for words. But she was laughing.)

  We watched the Imperial Ballet perform Pharoah’s Daughter. The prima ballerina assoluta, Mathilde Kschessinska, is the most beautiful dancer in the world. A young ballet student played the part of a monkey and leaped around in the tops of make-believe trees until Kschessinska shot him down with a make-believe arrow. After the performance the boy came to our box to be presented to Papa and Mama, who gave him a silver box of chocolates. The boy could hardly speak, he was so overcome — he just stared.

  After the ballet we had a late supper with Anya.

  5/18 December 1916

  Papa called from Stavka with the dreadful news that Bucharest has fallen to the enemy. I can’t bear to move the pins on the map one more time.

  8/21 December 1916

  Aunt Ella has come from Moscow to visit Mama and plans to stay for several days. We’re so happy to have her here, because it does get lonely at times since we hardly ever go anywhere and Papa is rarely here.

  9/22 December 1916

  We’ve just seen Aunt Ella off at the railroad station. She stayed less than one day.

  Here’s what happened: The real reason Aunt Ella came was not just for a family visit but to speak seriously to Mama about Father Grigory. Our aunt believes that Father Grigory is not a real holy man at all but a fraud, and that he’s giving Mama bad advice. I heard her with my own ears: “Rasputin, that man you call holy, has pushed Russia to the brink of disaster.” She told Mama that the country is in chaos, the peasants are starving, and the army is threatening rebellion. She even said there are revolutionaries who want to depose Papa and take over the country.

  And then she started ticking off all the bad advice that Father Grigory has given to Mama. Mostly it has to do with getting rid of certain officials that Father Grigory doesn’t like, or who don’t like him, and naming others to replace them. And the ones Mama appointed, Aunt Ella says, are incompetent and weak and make matters worse.

  But Mama refused to listen. She says she knows that lots of people disapprove of Father Grigory, and that many actually hate him. But Mama knows who he truly is, a saint, and she will not listen to lies about him, and not for anything in the world will she send him away.

  Since Mama would not listen to her, even for a minute, Aunt Ella went back to Moscow. She and Mama were both crying.

  18/31 December 1916

  Father Grigory is missing. No one can find him, and Mama expects the worst. She’s convinced he was murdered by an assassin. She says he often told her, “If I die or you desert me, you will lose your son and your crown within six months.” And she believes that.

  It’s so terrible, I can’t write about it.

  19 December 1916/1 January 1917

  Father Grigory is dead. His body was found under the ice of the Neva River in Petrograd. Papa has come home from Stavka, and Mama is nearly hysterical with grief. I know her greatest fear: Now there is no one who can help Alexei with his illness. The assassin is Prince Felix Yussupov, who is married to Papa’s niece, Princess Irina, the sister of all those horrid boy cousins. The prince is so handsome, I can hardly believe that he could have done such a horrible thing, even though he claims he killed Rasputin for the good of Russia. He was helped by one of Papa’s favorite cousins, Dmitri Pavlovitch. And there were others, too. Papa intends to banish them from Petrograd forever.

  I feel sorry for every bad thing I ever said or even thought about Father Grigory.

  21 December 1916/3 January 1917

  Today was one of the saddest days I remember, the day of Father Grigory’s funeral. His body was brought here secretly from Petrograd and prepared for burial. We drove to our church in a closed car, all of us dressed entirely in black. Before we left the palace, we signed our names on the back of a small icon of the Virgin Mary that Mama then placed on the breast of the corpse before the coffin was sealed. She gave us white flowers to scatter on top of the coffin. Then Father Grigory’s body was buried in the park, near the spot where Anya is building a chapel. Poor Mama. Poor Papa. Poor everybody.

  24 December 1916/6 January 1917

  It’s Christmas Eve. We’ve exchanged some little handmade gifts and given presents to the staff, but we’re all too upset to celebrate in any way. We sit and stare out at the falling snow.

  28 December 1916/10 January 1917

  Papa doesn’t want to see anyone or speak with anyone. He’s very nervous and distraught and smokes one cigarette after another. Mama and Anya hold each other’s hands and weep. Alexei’s arm hurts him. The doctors do what they can, but there is no Father Grigory to call when it gets really bad.

  19 January/1 February 1917

  I just don’t feel like writing. Everyone and everything is bleak and gloomy.

  4/17 February 1917

  Olga and Tatiana are both ill with measles. I’ve been sitting in their darkened room to keep them company. Mama’s friend Lili Dehn came to try to cheer us up. She doesn’t have an easy task.

  To distract us all, Papa reads to us, mostly stories by Chekhov.

  9/22 February 1917

  Not feeling well. Headache. I hope it’s not measles.

  17 February/2 March 1917

  I do have measles. So does Alexei. And Anya, too! Anya complains more than all of us put together. Tatiana has pain in her ears, and her head is bandaged, so she can’t hear a thing. Olga’s cough is so bad, she can’t speak. Mashka is still all right. Mama has all she can do to take care of us. Lili Dehn is staying with us, sleeping on the sofa in the Red Room, to be near us all. Papa went back to Stavka to see what can be done. He told us to be brave, and we promised, but we all burst into tears the minute he was gone.

  25 February/10 March 1917

  Revolutionaries have taken over the whole city of Petrograd. It’s hard for me to understand this. Lili tries to explain that people are suffering from the war and want it to end. (We all do!) She says there are men who insist that Papa doesn’t know how to win the war and doesn’t care for the Russian people. Even the soldiers in Petrograd are turning against the tsar. This is what Aunt Ella was trying to warn Mama about.

  Papa called to say he’s coming home. He reminded us again to be brave, but I’m too frightened to sleep.

  1/14 March 1917

  Where is Papa? We’re frantic. He should be here by now. We know only that he couldn’t get through Petrograd to reach us because the revolutionaries control the railroad station. The water and electricity have been cut off, and the telephone lines as well.

  Baroness Buxhoeveden arrived in a hysterical state, saying that a sentry has been killed not five hundred meters from the palace. Mama and Mashka (the only one of us who is not dreadfully sick) put on heavy coats and went out to plead with the palace guards to remain calm. I was terrified that something would happen to them, but they returned safely, and I thank God for that. The rebellious soldiers have agreed to establish a neutral zone. Everything seems calm again. But I’m not.

  3/16 March 1917 />
  Still no word from Papa. A blizzard swirls around us, the wind howling and the snow so thick, we can’t see anything outside our windows.

  We’ve heard sickening rumors that Papa has abdicated. That mean he’s no longer tsar. But who will be tsar now? Alexei is still too young. Mama would never allow it.

  4/17 March 1917

  I will never forget this day as long as I live. Papa managed to get through to Mama by telephone and confirm the rumors: He has abdicated. Two days ago he informed the Duma, the elected assembly, that he would abdicate in favor of his son. But then he realized that Alexei is too frail, and that he would be taken away from us. So Papa changed his mind and abdicated in favor of Uncle Misha, his brother Mikhail Alexandrovitch. But then Uncle Misha abdicated as well, and now there is no tsar.

  Mama, weeping, turned to us and said, “The first part has come true, just as Father Grigory predicted. We have lost the crown.”

  5/18 March 1917

  Papa is on his way home. He told us that the Duma has set up something called a provisional government. I don’t know what this means. On the advice of Lili, Mama is burning her diaries, started before any of us were born. A great fire is roaring in the grate in the Red Room, and one by one she feeds the books into the flames.

  I don’t know what my sisters will do, but I have resolved never to burn mine.

  8/21 March 1917

  We are under arrest! General Kornilov of the Provisional Government arrived, demanding to speak to Mama. (I saw him; he’s unbelievably ugly.) He told her that he’s doing this to protect us from the revolutionary soldiers, and that after Papa comes we’ll all go to Murmansk, and a British cruiser will take us to England. When the general left, Mama came to tell us this horrible news. Tatiana is still quite deaf, so I had to write down for her what Mama said.

  After he talked to Mama, the general spoke to the palace guards and the palace staff and told them they could leave if they wanted, but if they stay, they will be under house arrest with us. Most have already gone.

  The regular guards have all deserted, and the soldiers who came in their place have been firing their rifles in the park. I think they’re shooting the deer.

  The palace doors are locked. We are prisoners.

  9/22 March 1917

  Papa is back, at last. We were so glad to see him that we wept. So did Mama, and so did he. All we do is cry.

  11/24 March 1917

  Our hair has begun to fall out, whether from the disease or from the medicines, I don’t know. Mama decided the best thing is to shave our heads, and now we’re all as bald as baby birds. It’s so funny! It’s the only thing we have to laugh at.

  We’re all feeling better except Mashka, who now has measles and pneumonia on top of it. Thank goodness Dr. Botkin and Dr. Derevenko are staying with us after so many others decided to leave.

  Others who are still here: Anya, of course, and dear Lili; two of Mama’s ladies-in-waiting, Baroness Buxhoeveden and Countess Hendrikov; Count Benckendorff and his wife; and Prince Dolgoruky; also M. Gilliard and Mr. Gibbes. Professor Petrov is gone without a farewell.

  Sailor Derevenko left, but not before he treated Alexei very badly. He’s been with my brother since Alexei was just beginning to walk, and we always thought Derevenko was devoted. But as soon as Papa abdicated, Sailor Derevenko began ordering Alexei to run little errands, as though he were the tsarevitch and Alexei his servant! Now I wonder how many other people that I thought truly cared for us have been waiting for a chance to be as mean and heartless as possible. At least Sailor Nagorny still seems loyal.

  I wanted to kick Derevenko, but he was gone before I got a chance.

  18/31 March 1917

  If I’m going to keep on writing in this diary, I must not start every entry with “a horrible thing happened” or “this is terrible” or “that person behaved rudely.” But it’s true! The soldiers who came to guard us have no manners at all. I found two in our bathroom this morning, taking the cap off the tooth powder and shaking it out as though they had never used a toothbrush. And when our doctors come to treat us, those loutish soldiers barge right into our bedrooms to watch.

  21 March/3 April 1917

  I promised I would not say “this terrible thing,” but this is truly terrible: Anya and Lili were arrested today. It was raining, and we watched from the window of Alexei’s room as they were driven away. We have no idea what will happen to them and are sick with worry.

  The man who took them was the minister of justice, Alexander Feodorovitch Kerensky. He has a face like a rat. Papa says we may expect to see more of him, that our fate is in his hands.

  Papa is also worried about Grandmother. She visited him at Petrograd for a short time after he announced that he was abdicating. She told him she was leaving for the Crimea, and of course we’re all praying that she got there safely.

  22 March/4 April 1917

  We’ve learned a bit more: Lili and Anya were taken to Petrograd, where Lili was released and Anya imprisoned at the Fortress of Peter and Paul. We have no idea why Anya was kept and Lili let go. It’s frightening not to know the reasons.

  24 March/6 April 1917

  We’ve had a letter from Grandmother. Her train got through safely to the Crimea, and she’s at her palace on the Black Sea. My aunt Olga has recently married, and she’s on her way there with her new husband. Also, Aunt Xenia and Uncle Sandro are already there with my six horrid cousins, plus Irina and her husband, Prince Yussupov, who murdered Father Grigory! Although Mama has never forgiven Prince Yussupov for what he did, we all wish we could be there, too.

  25 March/7 April 1917

  Papa gets upset with the soldiers because they have no military discipline — they don’t comb their hair, they don’t clean their boots, they leave their jackets unbuttoned. And they don’t act like soldiers, either. Yesterday the weather was fine, and one of the soldiers on guard duty carried a gilt chair out of the hall and set it in the sun. There he lounged with his rifle on his knees and his cap shading his eyes while he took a little nap. It did give Papa something to laugh at.

  28 March/10 April 1917

  No sooner were we all feeling better than Papa and Mama decided we must continue with our studies. And they’re to do some of the tutoring! Papa will instruct us in history and geography, and Mama will teach religion. Baroness Buxhoeveden is giving us piano lessons, and the other lady-in-waiting, Countess Hendrikov, will teach art. Monsieur Gilliard is the headmaster and will continue to torture me (this not a mistake for “tutor me”) in French, and Mr. Gibbes in English. This will begin next week, after Easter.

  I’d hoped we’d be free of studies until we are really free. No such luck.

  2/15 April 1917

  Easter

  Last night after the long midnight service, which we had here in the palace, Papa invited the officers on duty guarding us to join us for our traditional Easter supper. I would have called it a feast, but this was no feast, because of the shortages. There was no sweetened cheese to spread on the kulich, which is supposed to be as light and tender as a cloud but was more like a brick. And there were no flowers. Mama misses the fresh flowers she always used to have in all her rooms, but the soldiers say flowers are luxuries forbidden to prisoners.

  4/17 April 1917

  One luxury we do have is Alexei’s cinema projector and collection of films. In the evenings Alexei invites anyone he can find to come to his room to watch a performance. Some of the films are really funny, and it keeps Alexei happy.

  14/27 April 1917

  The snow is nearly gone, and we’re sometimes permitted to walk in the park. Mama is always in her wheelchair, and we take turns pushing her. It’s awful (I know, I said it again), because everyone stares at us, and sometimes they jeer. Alexei gets upset, because he’s used to everybody bowing to Papa. But Papa says we must be polite and friendly, even to those who are impolite and unfriendly to us, that
it will pay in the long run. I’m just not sure I can stand the short run.

  21 April/4 May 1917

  A new officer, Colonel Yevgeny Kobylinsky, has arrived, and Papa says this is good news. The colonel has been wounded twice and was even a patient in one of our hospitals. Papa says he’s loyal to us, but that he must do his duty as a soldier and we must not make his job more difficult.

  I keep thinking how nice it would be if Mashka’s Kolya would be assigned here, but she has heard nothing from him in months and fears the worst.

  5/18 May 1917

  We’re making a vegetable garden in the park. All of us (except Mama, who watches from her wheelchair or her favorite rug) have been digging up the sod and hauling it away. It looks so funny to see M. Gilliard and Mr. Gibbes in their bowler hats, shoveling with the rest of us! Some of the servants are helping, and even a few of the soldiers have pitched in. They must have gotten bored just mocking us.