At Livadia we had beautiful orchards, bearing every kind of fruit. We loved to spend our leisure time in these orchards. The gardeners displayed apples, peaches, apricots and cherries, all according to the season. We were especially proud of our vineyards nearby at Massandra. We had every kind of grape—white, purple, red—each one a perfect specimen and unusually large. Whenever we visited the wine cellar we found large bunches of grapes artistically arranged on platters in the reception room. They looked so tempting with sprays of leaves accentuating the soft colors of the fruit. After tea, cakes and grapes were passed.
After our tour of the vineyards we usually took the lift down and walked through seven huge store rooms. These contained many shelves of bottled wines lying on their sides, dated, labelled and crested with the Russian double eagle. These bottles were in deep red, white or blue marked with their age, which went back several generations. Father commented on the age and quality of the wines stored there on platforms, in large barrels, holding several hundred gallons of wine to age. It was here that the coronation wine was made and bottled; a lot of it still remained in these rooms at the time of the revolution. There were varieties of wines here which were used in the palace at Tsarskoe Selo. Father drank only occasionally. He disliked champagne, but enjoyed a glass of sherry. Mother and we children used some only for medicinal purposes.
Many of our activities were centered around the waters of the Black Sea. We often went bathing but none of us children could be called good swimmers. As a matter of fact we were afraid of the deep water, especially since that frightful incident when I was swept under by a huge wave and was saved by Father from drowning. After this a platform or breakwater was built for our protection.
Nineteen eleven was a turbulent year for us. On our way to the Crimea we stopped for several days in Kiev. Father and my older sisters accompanied by the ladies of honor and by Crown Prince Boris, the heir to the Bulgarian throne, went to the opera. After the first act, when the curtain fell and the orchestra played, voices were heard from the audience and confusion began. Prime Minister Stolypin who sat in a white coat in the front row had been shot. The bullet pierced the cross and his chest. The foul deed was done by a man who used a pass given him by a friend of the Okhrana who had been made to believe that he was anxious to be present at the performance. The family returned earlier than expected. Father was as white as a ghost and both sisters shook when they reached the train where Mother was in a state of collapse. She had already heard about the murder. It was said that the Minister, Count Witte, who wanted to regain his former position, which he had lost to Stolypin, exchanged sharp words with Stolypin shortly before the killing took place. Father ordered no reprisal, stating that court action should settle the matter. For this he was deeply criticized.
Madame Narishkina told us then the experience the Stolypin family had had during the Japanese war. Their home in St. Petersburg was bombed and about two dozen people were injured; one remained a cripple. She said that arms, fingers and limbs were scattered all over the garden.
Amongst Mother’s closest friends was Mme. Anna Vyrubova (née Taneeva) who sometimes quarrelled with members of the staff. Anna Vyrubova even declared war on Mlle. Butsova. Mother said: “Never again will I have her in Livadia,” but she broke her promise again and again. Anna’s mother before her marriage was a Tolstoy and her husband was related to General Voyeykov, the commandant of the palaces in Tsarskoe Selo. He, too, was disliked by many.
Mother invited Anna to come to the Crimea despite the feeling against her. She had been our friend for a long while and we accepted her as though she were a member of the family. Her house in Tsarskoe Selo was conveniently located a short distance from the palace gate and we children loved to go to Anna where we did not spare her cookie jar which was always full and accessible. There was no formality at her house and we were free from surveillance. Anna knew how to make us feel at ease with her friendliness and understanding, and our ties with her grew stronger. Sometimes even Father joined Mother at Anna’s, and that was a unique experience for my parents. It was at her house that Mother and sometimes Father saw the Starets (Rasputin). Hence all the messages from the Starets to Mother came through Anna.
We had heard of the malicious stories about Anna’s relationship with Rasputin. However, a thorough investigation disclosed that these terrible rumors were totally unfounded and that Rasputin had never visited her house when she was alone. Mother had a special interest in her because she had encouraged Anna to marry an officer who had been shell-shocked during the Russo-Japanese war. The marriage eventually ended in divorce. After the death of Rasputin, Anna moved to our house because Mother feared she, too, might be killed. Her father, Alexander Sergeevich Taneev, held a position at court and Father esteemed him highly. He was also a fine musician and from him Anna had inherited much talent. A love for music bound Mother and Anna into this close friendship. These musical hours served to release Mother’s suppressed ambitions. In her younger days she had taken voice lessons, learning many arias from operas. Had she been born into another family, she could have made music her profession.
Miss Baumgarten or Miss Clements usually accompanied Mother during her vocal practice. Mother played many complicated compositions on the piano; the harder they were the better she liked them. She possessed great patience and would never stop until her undertaking was accomplished. When she played she always laid her rings on a tray. She had an idea that the rings interfered with the clearness and softness of the melody.
Anna was a constant visitor in our house and occasionally Father dropped in to listen and enjoy the simple pleasures Mother and Anna had together. Whenever possible, in the evening, we children were allowed to slip into the room to hear them play and sing classical numbers. At these Mother was radiantly beautiful and she carried the melody with much expression and feeling; we were often deeply touched. There was an expression of sadness in those melodies and the plaintive ones were those she sang the best. Father enjoyed Mother’s informal concerts but never encouraged the presence of strangers during these intimate musical evenings. He also was musical and while young often played the piano with Madame Narishkina.