We had books galore to choose from, and several pianos for our use. We resumed piano lessons—now with Anastasia Hendrikova; previously they were given by Mr. Konrad. Father began to teach us history, geography and natural science; Mother, religion; Baroness Buxhoeveden, English; Dr. Botkin, Russian; M. Gilliard, French; Mlle. Schneider, mathematics. There was only one thing lacking—inspiration.
From the very first Kerensky barged into Father’s rooms without warning, much to the disgust of the Court Marshal who followed him angrily. Kerensky asked Father whether he would go to Germany if the Kaiser would extend an invitation. Father disappointed him by answering, “I shall never set foot on German soil. I have already previously rejected the invitation.” A car supposed to carry us over the border crashed into the fence as it tried to drive through the gate. Even if an opportunity had presented itself, dozens of strong chains that bound us to our Mother country would not let us leave Russia. There was an offer that we leave Russia by way of Murmansk, but Kerensky betrayed it to the revolutionists, even though we would not have accepted the offer.
Suddenly Kerensky wanted General Kornilov’s resignation but the General refused to comply with his order. Kerensky then told Father that Kornilov was a traitor. What was Kerensky? I wonder now if the General was not in Kerensky’s way! Kerensky also was against Captain Count Kotsebue, the Commandant of the Palace who formerly was an Uhlan Guard officer. Kerensky forced him to give up his post in favor of Kerensky’s communist friend, Colonel Korovichenko.
Once after a walk when Father was about to enter the palace, one of the new guards stepped in front of him and barred his entrance. Alexei from the open door saw what happened and burst out crying. Another time Father was walking with Prince Dolgorukov in the park when one of the new officers followed close behind and stepped on his heel. Father turned suddenly and hit the officer with his walking cane so hard that the officer bent double. After that none of them tried this incivility again.
Years later I spoke by chance to a former Russian officer who said the Emperor should have “prayed less but worked more.” But this officer’s wife at that time remarked to her husband, “What kind of officer were you? When you became ill with appendicitis you carried on like an infant! Is that bravery?” My Father not only prayed and worked but possessed the bravery of a hero. Every day he spent ten to fourteen hours at his desk. There was no other man that worked and fought harder and with more determination than did Father. Such words were spoken only by German traitors and weaklings who did everything to buy the privilege to stay far behind the front lines. Some said that Father was mild. Perhaps he was; he might have been appreciated in another country. However, many said that Father should have ordered guns, but the Emperor would not take the lives of men. He was very kind because he did not believe in the ruthlessness of Ivan the Terrible, or Lenin, Trotsky, Apfelbaum, Rosenfeld, Himmer, and others.
The very things we loved most, were now turning against us. Each morning when I awakened I hoped for an improvement. But one glance around convinced me the times were not right. One day a bullet hit a window in Father’s study and left an ugly round scar, showing the great thickness of the glass. Our walks continued, but every time we went out we discovered many familiar faces had disappeared, and were replaced by new ones. In the park the sentries followed us closely and engaged us in conversation. Most often we did not care to hear what they said. Then came an order limiting our walk to the first bridge of the brook. Now we were confined to a more restricted area. We tried to ignore the impertinence of guards who lolled in our chairs on the lawn in front of the small balcony which led into the entry room. This balcony was a few steps up and had an entrance on each side, but the arbitrary guards prevented us from entering except through one side only. Mother watched us from the window, and when we returned to her, one glance indicated that she had been weeping. We knew it was the sight of our being so restricted that made her cry. Whether long or short, these walks remained the most coveted events of our day. Mother too was wheeled out in her chair, and sat with her embroidery in the shade. Usually she was surrounded by the young guards who asked her all kinds of questions, mostly religious ones. Those big children understood her and she won them with her kindness.
At first our captivity at Tsarskoe Selo was not so difficult, even though there was a complete lack of privacy and our freedom to come and go was restricted. In fact it was not much different from our usual routine as we had been accustomed to watchful eyes and many limitations. We would have been fairly comfortable if we had had enough heat and the right food for the convalescents.
The familiar rooms, furnished with what we always considered to be our own possessions, were at once comforting and disturbing. But soon we found out that these things and many personal household treasures no longer belonged to us. Many of these were confiscated immediately, including all Mother’s silver sets. Some of these were heirlooms from her Granny, Queen Victoria, and some were Father’s wedding gifts. Other confiscations included trays, platters, urns and numerous gold plates, gold tea glass holders and spoons, over five hundred table place settings, Mother’s imperial jade figurines and crosses by Bolin, the most famous jeweller in Petrograd; also many priceless gold icons decorated with precious stones and other treasures.
They even took Alexei’s jade and rock crystal collection of animals, gold swords, miniatures of the family, and his icons, many of which were presented to him during his illness in Spala in 1912 and were especially esteemed by him, because the people had prayed before them to spare his life. Some of these were in gold, studded in precious stones. On his birth in 1904 the Shah of Persia ordered a religio-historical rug to be made and had presented it to Alexei on his twelfth birthday. Approximately 12 feet by 16 feet, it took twelve years to make. As I remember it, it had Christ’s face in the middle, surrounded by about a hundred world leaders from the time of Moses up to 1900. There was an excellent likeness of George Washington.
Olga and Tatiana had saved some money with which they were able to redeem some of our tea sets, place settings and a few gold tea glass holders. Our home had the finest Persian rugs and Hepplewhite furniture. The gallery contained fine paintings and rock crystal chandeliers.