For some time in anticipation of this signal our suitcases had been packed. We had very few clothes with us. But Anna Demidova on behalf of Mother wrote to us from Ekaterinburg, that the medicine (meaning the jewels) should be packed carefully. General Tatishchev took the inventory; there were not many pieces, but they were invaluable. The General estimated the value of the stones and other items at between three and four million rubles. He and Gillek (M. Gilliard) and Shura Tegleva took great care in placing them in our clothes, suitcases, and pillows. We were to carry these things with us. Some of the large stones had been removed from their settings in Tsarskoe Selo. Mother also had taken from her big trunk in Tsarskoe Selo a few small valuable laces, which she always supervised when the inventory of these priceless pieces was taken, usually twice a year.
It had now been three weeks since our parents had left and we had lived through all kinds of hardships. The night before we were notified that our departure was scheduled in the morning at 11:00 A.M. The guards were standing at each street corner, as they hurriedly whisked us through the streets to the dock.
On May 20th, 1918, we boarded the “Rossia,” the same boat that brought us to Tobolsk almost ten months before. No other boats followed us. We reached the steamer before noon, but not until late in the afternoon did we start to move. No one was allowed on the dock but in the afternoon people crowded on the river bank to see us depart. Some pressed handkerchiefs to their faces, some wiped their eyes with their long sleeves, some made crosses in the air or on their breasts. When the crowds grew larger we were told to get back into our cabins, which were damp and cold.
About an hour or so later, before our departure, we were allowed to come out on the upper deck. We recognized some familiar faces on the shore, but were puzzled not to see the Botkin children among the people. We could not later explain the reason to their father. Upon our arrival in Ekaterinburg, fearing for their safety, Dr. Botkin addressed a letter to Voykov in regard to their coming, but the sinner’s eyes were closed. Later Nagorny told us that one man had called out: “Lunatics, what are you doing to this innocent family? God will punish you for your brutality.” Rodionov, having heard this remark, said to us, “Your friends called us lunatics.” They were lucky that the boat was sailing, otherwise not one of them would be alive now.
PART V
Ekaterinburg
XXII
REUNION
With us on the “Rossia” were General Tatishchev, Mlle. Hendrikova, Iza Buxhoeveden, M. Gilliard, Sidney Gibbs and Mlle. Schneider, who had once taught Russian to Mother and Aunt Ella; also Alexei Dmitriev, the hairdresser; Alexandra Tegleva, governess; Elizabeth Ersberg and Miss Tutelberg (“Tootles”) and Alexei (Diatka) Volkov, Mother’s groom of the chamber; valet Trup; Leonid Sidniev, Klementy Nagorny, Ivan Kharitonov, and others.
We were concerned about Alexei, so we went to his cabin and to our dismay we found that he and Nagorny had been locked up in the cabin for the night. Dr. Derevenko, too, was not permitted to see my brother. The Doctor and Nagorny protested such cruelty toward the sick boy. Rodionov shouted back, saying, “You will see who is running this boat.” Then after a series of curses in Russian and expressions in some foreign language, he continued: “I have orders to shoot anyone who resists.” No more could be said or done, and we were thankful that Nagorny was with him. We were not allowed to close our cabin doors. The trip to Ekaterinburg would not be long! We did so hope nothing would happen to Alexei now at the last minute. The spring air on the river Tobol—the little that sifted through our windows—was refreshingly sweet, though the cabins were raw and chilly. The next day they permitted us to sit on deck. We could see the shores were a fused iridescence of the early tree leaves; the stream was swollen and formed numerous little lakes. From our midstream view the world seemed tenderly beautiful. Could our world be tender? Was this a new beginning, or an end?
The guards armed with bayonets were everywhere, dampening any desire on our part to indulge in any kind of conversation. Whoever spoke to us had to raise his voice well above normal, speak in Russian only, and sit at some distance from us. We were happy when Alexei was allowed to be carried out on the deck in his wheel chair. He remained quietly in the sunshine; his eyes followed M. Gilliard whenever he left him for a moment. Alexei was very attached to this faithful friend and protector. He was afraid to talk for fear he might be locked up in his cabin again. He sat worried and forlorn, occupied with troubled thoughts. The little fellow realized the seriousness of his trip, he was obviously in deep agony. Our hearts beat painfully for him. We tried to play some games but none could concentrate. We spoke little for fear they might misinterpret our most innocent conversation.
On the second morning, May 22nd, we arrived in Tiumen. Here were more guards armed to the teeth, even with a machine gun. They were afraid of possible riots when we would disembark. There were crowds of people to see the arrival of the first boat of the season, or perhaps they were aware of our being on board. We waited on the boat several hours before we disembarked, then we walked from the landing, crossing the same tracks to the waiting train as we had done, in reverse, the previous year. A group of ladies threw flowers at our feet, but we did not dare to look in their direction. We saw they were wiping their tears with handkerchiefs. Many crossed themselves and others made a cross in our direction. Still others stood motionless except for their quivering lips. An elderly gentleman knelt down. Immediately a guard pushed him over, swearing at him in a mixed tongue. I felt ashamed to see such brutal disrespect for venerable years. This Russian gentleman was one of the old generation. I could tell by his posture and by the cut of his clothes. He had a familiar look; it seemed I had seen him before somewhere. Tatiana asked Commissar Rodionov if it would be possible to have Baroness Buxhoeveden and others with us. He grinned, saying “Panie, nyet” (lady, no).