Nikolsky taught the soldiers all kinds of communistic doctrines which he called Yurovsky’s teaching. At that time we did not know who this evil Yurovsky was. The hatred Nikolsky taught to the men, he was to experience himself. Soon afterwards the soldiers drove Nikolsky out. Unfortunately, old Pankratov had to go too. His going was a loss to us because he always defended us. From what we heard in advance about the new commissar who was coming from Ekaterinburg, we were apprehensive.
There were many repercussions in store for us. All the old soldiers of the Fourth and First regiments, who had come with us from Tsarskoe Selo, were ordered to leave. Before they did so, however, they came quietly one by one to Father’s study to say good-bye. Almost all of them cried as Father embraced them and thanked them for their loyalty to us. One of them brought a small body icon for Father to remember him by, and another one brought with him a small notebook which he asked us to autograph. Two men from the Fourth regiment refused to leave the place, saying that they would stay to guard their Emperor. At the point of a gun they were taken away and later we heard that they were shot, near the river. When the last several hundred men were leaving, they assembled on the street behind the fence in front of the house. We all, even Mother, went part way to the snow mountain to see our friends depart. We were never to see them again. The whole family and all around us were crushed by their going and, as they went, our hopes left with them.
We derived a lot of pleasure out of tobogganing on the snow mound we had worked so hard to build. But our pleasure lasted only one month. To the guards the snow mound was a sore spot and we tried to pacify them by not going to its top, so as not to attract the attention of passers-by who often gathered on the other side of the street to watch us. Notwithstanding, the Soldiers’ Committee decided to have the mound demolished. We soon heard heavy chopping and pounding in the garden, and we knew then that the snow mound was being destroyed. They cut deep notches across the mound so it could not be used for tobogganing and in order to prevent us from looking across the street. We showed no resentment at what they did, although in our hearts we felt differently.
Now we had even less space for exercise than we had had before and we tried to amuse ourselves as we elbowed each other in the yard. We looked at each other understandingly even though no words were uttered.
More bad news reached us, that agents of the underground, friends and relatives of the men listed previously, continued to pour into Russia from foreign countries by the thousand, followed later by Generals Pilsudski and Ludendorff and Count von Mirbach, the German Ambassador. We were told that all the buildings in Moscow including all of the Imperial quarters in the Kremlin were taken over by these intruders. These men ordered that the Russian Army be disbanded and that all German and Austro-Hungarian prisoners of war be released from the camps. These camps were scattered on the important railroad lines and mining regions throughout the territories of Omsk, Tomsk, Tiumen, Ekaterinburg, Cheliabinsk and other cities.
Up to now Father had refused to allow himself to be depressed. But this time he no longer was able to hide his feelings. He suffered painfully, because he believed his Allies, in whom he had had faith, had failed to help him in these difficult times. They could have prevented these men from coming to Russia. Instead, passports and other documents were issued to them. Father said again that fifty years from now there would be no democracy left, that when Russia falls the whole world will fall with it. A year later, when I recalled these words, in 1919, I wrote in my notebook, “Only the future will tell.”
Father was so distressed that he often sat up at night with only a little flickering lamp in the corner of his study. Mother knew that Father could not sleep. We heard the cracking of the floors which were more pronounced at night. She had left her bedroom and gone to him. We heard her say: “Nicky, are you not tired? Can you not sleep? I came to keep you company, dear.” Said Father: “No, Alicky, I am not tired. I thank you for thinking of me.” Such words of devotion and understanding always rang in our ears.
The only joy we had at this time was whenever we heard from our family or our friends. We longed so much to see our aunts, especially Aunt Olga’s baby. Aunt Xenia’s letters described to us the little man so charmingly that we felt as if we knew him.
XX
DANGER
After Nikolsky and Pankratov left, Colonel Kobylinsky brought back the key to the balcony which Nikolsky had taken away. Now Mother was again able to sit on the balcony in the sun. For several months we lived quietly and peacefully. But when the new guards came, our lives saddened.