President Fallières gave a dinner on the deck of a battleship, in honor of my family. It was a beautiful affair. The table was in the shape of a horseshoe. In the center of the table, roses were arranged to form the Russian coat of arms. During the dinner bands played popular compositions of French and Russian composers. Afterwards there were floats on the water, lighting up scenes from the opera Lohengrin and others. Someone must have informed them that Mother loved this opera by Richard Wagner. Launches were made to look like dolphins, sea serpents, Lohengrin’s swan, a huge egg (on top of which was a rooster pulling a gondola with a man inside playing a mandolin), a huge grasshopper and many other fantastic shapes. A float carrying a band of musicians drawn by many make-believe swans ended the procession. There were also beautiful fireworks lasting late into the night. Later a complete movie of the entire display was sent to us; when Alexei was ill, he amused himself by operating the projector with interest.
The next day we all went to the yacht’s chapel for a divine service, and to give thanks for the wonderful trip and our new friends. Later the President brought us gifts. To Alexei he presented miniature rifles, guns and drums, as well as a military tent completely equipped with a miniature cot, table and folding chairs. Alexei was overwhelmed. Afterwards he derived many happy hours in the park playing with his field equipment. It was this little gun that the Bolsheviks seized while he was playing with it in the garden during our arrest in Tsarskoe Selo. Olga received a writing desk set of dark blue enamel, beautifully initialed. Tatiana received a travel clock which she took with her later to Tobolsk. Marie received a dollhouse, two stories high, completely furnished, including a bath tub and electric lighting. I received a beautiful doll with a complete trousseau, even a veil for a bride. A twenty-one-gun salute was fired at our departure from Cherbourg, as at Cowes.
This cruise made me appreciate Olga and Tatiana; they impressed me highly with their graceful manners. I did so wish I could be like them when I grew up. They were so tall and each looked to be every inch a Princess, while it did not seem that I had grown at all during these years. Even Alexei was an inch or more taller than I. Marie too was tall. People said I would be short like my Grandmother. I was tall enough when I sat down, but my limbs were not long enough to suit me. Our Captain had a suggestion, that I hop on one foot, then on the other, three times a day, saying that would produce the desired results. I followed his instructions, even doubled and tripled his recipe, but without success. On a cruise, when I confided to him that his suggestions bore no fruit, he nearly died laughing. I never forgave the Captain for making me feel so ridiculous.
In spite of these several cruises during that summer of 1909, Mother’s health did not improve sufficiently to satisfy the doctors. She suffered from neuralgia. Karlsruhe was recommended, so the family went to Mannheim, to Uncle Ernest’s castle at Friedberg. Princess Louis of Battenberg and her two sons were there too. Then we went to Wolfsgarten near Darmstadt. Darmstadt was Mother’s old home, where as a young lady she lived with her brother Ernest when he became the reigning Grand Duke on the death of his father. Mother was fond of him because he replaced her late parents, and so we were irresistibly drawn to him. Uncle Ernest was handsome, kind, musical and artistic. Mother had the same talents as her brother. His second wife Eleonor (Onor) was a delightful person. She had known Mother since childhood, and their friendship grew stronger each year. This trip therefore was meaningful to our family.
I recall little of our stay. There was a constant flow of Mother’s relatives and hordes of royal children. We four sisters had only one bedroom to ourselves and Father had one small room where he could receive people. I remember Mother’s sister Irene (Amity) and her husband Prince Henry, the Kaiser’s brother. She completely won us over with her tender affection, and referred to us as “the dear children.” She was closer to Mother than were any of Mother’s other sisters. It seemed that we were always being summoned to meet a new cousin, aunt, uncle or a friend. One of the relatives had a homely nose, but fortunately I do not remember who she was.
Father went to Potsdam as guest of the Kaiser and Kaiserin. It gave me a queer feeling when I first realized the Kaiser’s deformity. I remember seeing him ride his horse in his Hussar uniform. He stuck his reins into his belt; with fingers resting partly on his hip he cleverly manipulated the reins. He seemed to lean his weight heavily to one side. Aunt Irene explained to us about his left arm. She said: “When Prince Wilhelm was born, the doctors and his father rejoiced because the child was a boy. But the little infant had not yet shown signs of life. They did everything to get him to breathe. They slapped him, tossed him into the air, swung him by his feet,—there was a full hour of working over him. At last he gave a feeble cry. His mother, ill at the time, did not know of the overly rough treatment of her baby. Later when she found out, she was in despair, she blamed the doctors and the nurses for the injury her child had received. For his left arm, which had been pulled out of the socket, became paralyzed and later shrivelled.”
Many of our relatives were in deep mourning for King Edward VII of England (Uncle Bertie), who had passed away in the spring of 1910. Kaiser Wilhelm had been hunting with Father in the Oranienburg forest near Berlin, and upon their return, in the presence of the widow, Queen Alexandra, and of the new King George V and Queen Mary, he looked at all the ladies in black dresses and white collars and remarked: “Everyone is dressed in black because the old rooster has died.” He knew Queen Alexandra was partly deaf and could not hear his remark; but there were many others who did, including the beautiful Princess Alice and her husband, Prince Andrew of Greece, who had come with Cousin George from England. We all bore disapproving expressions at his remark, and one relative whispered, “Wilhelm must be mad.”
All of the family knew that the Kaiser was tactless. During the time when he was only heir apparent, he never hesitated to express his impatience at having to wait so long to inherit the throne. Long before his grandfather and father died, he wrote the Proclamation, so as to be ready when the occasion should present itself. Aunt Irene and Mother cried when they heard that the young Emperor, Wilhelm II, the day he ascended the throne, ordered everyone in the palace placed under surveillance, including his own mother, the Empress Victoria; this in spite of his having sworn to his father that he would always uphold the honor of the royal house. He despised his courtiers, calling them parasites—the same men who during the war wrested his power and then held him practically under arrest. He hated the sight of his Mother’s friends and ladies-in-waiting and without hesitation he once said that the only joy in his life was being at the Yacht Club. Now he was obviously pleased that Uncle Bertie was no longer in his way. His dislike had begun when Uncle Bertie had called him “the boss of Cowes” and, whenever possible, had avoided holding the regatta when Wilhelm was present. One would not have believed that he had the use of only one arm and with it skillfully steered the sailboat.
Kaiserin Augusta Victoria always looked beautiful with a clear, almost transparent complexion, and was most friendly but quiet. I was intrigued by the black ribbon which she wore around her throat. She and the Kaiser showed us pictures of the palace at Potsdam. It was beautiful except for one room which I thought was in bad taste. This room had ornate pillars encrusted with all kinds of precious and semiprecious stones and odd-shaped shells. I understand that Father had contributed a large uncut diamond to this conglomeration, which also included geological specimens, together with petrified snakes wrapped around the pillars, turtles and crocodiles in creeping or crawling positions.
One day Father went with the Kaiser to the mausoleum and placed a wreath on the tomb of the Emperor Frederick III, the Kaiser’s father. Photographs were taken on this occasion; later, in the bitterness of war, while looking at these pictures, Mother said; “Papa would rather lay a wreath on Wilhelm’s tomb.” We children cut the pictures of the Kaiser out of all our photographs. Alexei tore up his pictures of Germany completely, remarking that he (the Kaiser) did not deserve to be called a godfather, and indignantly tramped the old photographs with his feet. I did the same. After our arrest and imprisonment in Tsarskoe Selo, I purposely broke several gifts from the Kaiser pretending that it was an accident in every case.