He advanced to where I was standing, and took my hands in his, saying, very simply:
“Thank you, Lili, for all you have done for us ... and I?... what have I done for you? Absolutely nothing! Why, I have not even kept Dehn near you.”
“Your Majesty,” I answered, now unable to speak without crying ... “it is for me to thank you for the privilege of being allowed to remain with you.”
As we went into the red salon, and the light fell on the Emperor’s face, I started. In the darkened bedroom I could not see clearly, but I now realised how greatly he had altered. The Emperor was deathly pale, his face was covered with innumerable wrinkles, his hair was quite grey at the temples, and blue shadows encircled his eyes. He looked like an old man; the Emperor smiled sadly when he saw my horrified expression, and he was about to speak, when the Empress joined us; he then tried to appear the light-hearted husband and father of the happy years; he sat with us and chatted on trivial matters, but I could see that he was inwardly ill at ease, and at last the effort was too much for him. “I think I’ll go for a walk—walking always does me good,” he said.
We passed through the corridors to Anna’s apartments, where the Emperor left us, and went downstairs. The Empress and I entered the bedroom, and stood by one of the windows which looked out over the Park. Anna was very excited; she kept talking and crying, but we had eyes only for the Emperor, who by this time was outside the Palace. He walked briskly towards the Grande Allée, but suddenly a sentinel appeared from nowhere, so to speak, and intimated to the Emperor that he was not allowed to go in that direction. The Emperor made a nervous movement with his hand, but he obeyed, and retraced his steps; but the same thing occurred—another sentinel barred his passage, and an officer told the Emperor that, as he was now to all intents and purposes a prisoner, his exercise must be of the prison-yard description!... We watched the beloved figure turn the corner ... his steps flagged, his head was bent, his whole aspect was significant of utter dejection; his spirit seemed completely broken. I do not think that until this moment we had realised the crushing grip of the Revolution, nor what it signified. But it was brought home to us most forcibly when we saw the passage of the Lord of All the Russias, the Emperor whose domains extended over millions of miles, now restricted to a few yards in his own Park.
The Empress said nothing, but I felt her hand grasp mine; it was, for her, an agonizing experience. After an interval, she spoke.... “We’ll go back to the children, Lili; at any rate we can be together there.”
The Grand Duchesses were delighted to know that their father had returned, and I think the knowledge of his safety acted on them like a tonic. Poor Marie, who had so longed to be the first to welcome the Emperor, was now delirious, with intervals of consciousness. When I entered her room, she recognised me. “Well, Lili, where have you been?” she exclaimed. “I’ve been waiting and waiting for you. Papa is really here, isn’t he?” The next moment she was back in the fantastic and terrible kingdom of fever. “Crowds of people ... dreadful people ... they’re coming to kill Mamma!! Why are they doing these things?” Alas, poor child, others have since asked the same question.
That day the Emperor and the Empress dined and spent the evening together. The Empress told me afterwards that the Emperor lost his self-control when he was alone with her in the mauve boudoir; he wept bitterly. It was excessively difficult for her to console him, and to assure him that the husband and father was of more value in her eyes than the Emperor whose throne she had shared.
. . . . .
I cannot say that the Revolutionaries treated us with excessive discourtesy, but some of their methods were reprehensible. For instance, when certain complications ensued with Marie, it became necessary to have another medical opinion. This request was at first refused, but afterwards the authorities agreed, on condition that an officer and two soldiers were present at the medical examination! Colonel Kotzebue, the first Revolutionary commandant, had formerly been an officer in the Lancers, and, as he was a distant cousin of mine, I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw him in this official capacity, and I asked him to come and talk to me in Anna’s room, as I considered he owed our family some explanation of his conduct.