LIFE AT CZARSKOI SELO
I have often been asked details about the kind of existence by the Imperial family in the interior of their home. So long as I was in their service I never spoke of what I saw, and in general avoided mentioning anything connected with the family life of my masters. It seems to me now that I am not committing an indiscretion if I do so, because I have nothing to say but good of the unfortunate Czar and Czarina.
They were a most affectionate couple, and to look at them and to hear them converse with one another one could almost have believed them to be little “bourgeois” of the type dear to French authors, rather than powerful sovereigns. They used often to jest together, and to tease each other in a quiet way, and both were full of fun when left to themselves. Later on, of course, things changed, and as the political horizon became darker and darker, the old merry laugh with which the Emperor and his wife used to make the halls and corridors of the Czarskoi Selo Palace echo was hushed and could be heard very seldom. But the sense of humour of Nicholas II. and of his Consort never deserted them, and they were inclined to look at the joyful side of things rather than to indulge in pessimism, in all matters that did not pertain to the administration of their vast Empire. This was the tragic part of their life, and, being both highly conscientious people, they suffered cruelly to find that all their efforts to ameliorate the condition of their people were misunderstood. Of course it is idle to deny that the weakness of character of the Emperor was greatly to blame in the series of disasters which finally overpowered him and his family, but it must also be acknowledged that he never met with any sincere and disinterested help in the responsibilities of his arduous task. During the first years of her marriage the Empress kept, or rather was kept, aloof from everything connected with politics, which was a great pity, because at that time she might have made herself useful in many ways. But all the ministers and the advisers of Nicholas II. were of opinion that his wife had to be relegated to a subordinate position, and he himself had no desire to initiate her into the complicated details connected with the government of Russia. It was only after she had given birth to an heir that the position of Alexandra Feodorovna became an important one, and that she was consulted by her husband. By that time the reputation for weakness of character of the Emperor had become an established fact, and those who hitherto had ruled him, furious at finding themselves evicted, started the report that the Empress was abusing her influence over the Czar, and obliging him to conform himself to her own political views, which were supposed to be entirely German.
So far as I have been able to judge, this was an error, at least in some details. The Czarina was very fond of the land of her birth, this cannot be denied, but she was too affectionate a mother not to see that it would have been impossible to carry on a purely German policy in Russia, and the thing to which she clung the most was her throne and the possibility of seeing her own son occupy it in time. She was ambitious for him as well as for herself, and though this may be deplored, yet there is nothing astonishing in the fact.
She did not care for St. Petersburg and the luxury of her apartments in the Winter Palace, and after the Japanese war and the Revolution she persuaded the Czar to give up residing there and to make his permanent home at Czarskoi Selo, or in Livadia in the Crimea. They used to come sometimes to the capital for some military festivity or other, but their sojourn there was always of short duration, and never extended beyond a few hours. The only time they resided in it again, and this only for three days, was on the occasion of the celebration of the jubilee of three hundred years of the accession of the Romanoff dynasty to the throne of Russia. After they left it then, they were never more to sleep under its roof, though their rooms were always kept ready for them. Sometimes the Empress stopped there for a cup of tea, when on one of her rare visits to St. Petersburg, to inspect some charitable institution, but she never liked them, though she had furnished them with such care and she never felt at home in those immense halls which could not be made homely or comfortable, in the sense generally attached to this word.
At Czarskoi Selo existence ran very smoothly. The Empress rose early and, after partaking of a cup of tea in bed, threw a dressing gown over her shoulders, and repaired to her children’s rooms. She was always present when they said their prayers, and she used to read to them a chapter of the Bible, or the Gospel for the day. It was only after the performance of this duty that she began her own toilet, which was always an elaborate affair, and this to the last day of my stay with her, even after she had discarded most of her ornaments and fine gowns and assumed the garb of the sister of charity she declared she had become. But she was particular in the care she used to take of her own person and would spend a longer time than any one else would have done in her bath and in the general occupation of her dressing and undressing. After her hair had been arranged and she had assumed the gown she chose out of the three or four which were brought for her inspection, she would go to the small apartment where breakfast was served, and where her children were generally already awaiting her. A servant would then inform the Emperor that his wife was in the dining room, and he would join her there almost immediately. The meal never began without him, and was a simple though an abundant one. Eggs, cold meat, and a variety of cakes and biscuits with hot rolls, generally composed it. Nicholas II. was a gourmet, and though he cared most for Russian cooking, yet he insisted on everything that was served him being of the very best. Lunch was the meal of which he partook most freely, and it consisted always of some five or six courses, beginning with caviar and other relishes, and ending with fresh fruit, no matter what the season of the year might be, and very strong coffee. The Czar was a most sober man in his family circle, contrary to what has been said of him, and his only drink was Crimean wine from his own vintages, which was very good indeed. Sometimes, when he went to supper at the mess of his former regiment of Hussars, of which he had remained very fond, he partook freely of champagne, which started the legend that he was an inordinate drunkard, but these occasions were rare, and certainly never gave rise to any outward manifestation on his part which might have accredited this malicious report. Strong drinks never appeared on the Imperial table. Nicholas II. drank a small glass of vodka before his meals, as every Russian does, but this was all. As for the Empress, she seldom touched anything but mineral water, and the children were brought up on strictly abstemious lines. During dinner, which was served at eight o’clock, Madeira and sherry appeared, also red and white wine, but this was for the benefit of the guests invited. There were always some at this meal, but these comprised the ladies in waiting on the Empress, and the personal attendants on the Emperor, rarely any one else. Sometimes a military band played some of the Czarina’s favourite airs, when she would listen with attention, but this seldom occurred except on Sundays. The dinner was an elaborate affair, composed principally of Russian dishes, for Nicholas II. disliked French sauces and French menus, and used to say that what he preferred was plain and excellent Russian fare. The kind of fish called Sterlet was a favourite of his, also a pudding which went by the name of Gourieswkaya Kacha, or gruel, and which was really very good. The Empress was absolutely indifferent to what she ate or drank, and would have been perfectly satisfied to exist on oatmeal and eggs. The only thing she was particular about was her tea, which she wanted to be made very strong, and the brand she preferred was one in which green tea was mixed with black; she utterly repudiated Indian or Ceylon tea, giving her preference to Chinese caravan.
As the Imperial children grew up, their mother adopted the custom of spending most of her time with them when the state of her health so allowed. She had always been very delicate, and developed violent nervous headaches which totally prostrated her and confined her to her bed in a dark room, sometimes for two or three days at a time. These attacks left her terribly weak, and she would require care and quiet to get over them. Sometimes another attack would overpower her before the effects of the first one had passed away. This was the origin of the rumour that she was an unnatural mother who for days did not allow her daughters to approach her. Nothing of the kind ever took place, but when my poor mistress was laid up her sufferings were so intense that sometimes the sound of a footstep in the next room would add to the agony which she endured, and of course she had to be left alone at such periods. But the world, always cruel and unjust in regard to her, would have it that she confined herself in her apartments because she could not bear her children, and it pitied them in consequence.
But when she was in good health, the Czarina gave up every minute of her time to her family. She took upon herself the religious instruction of her son and daughters, and she tried to rear them in the strong principles which she herself professed. Both the Czar and herself observed with extreme punctuality the rites of the Greek Orthodox Church. During the whole six weeks of Lent, no meat appeared on the Imperial table, and at festivals as well as on Sundays, the whole family attended all the morning and afternoon services which were celebrated in the chapel of the Palace. Afterwards the Empress built a church in Czarskoi Selo, which became one of the most beautiful shrines in the whole of Russia, and she regularly went to it, forsaking the private chapel of her own residence. She had arranged for herself an oratory in one corner of the building, from which she could, unseen herself, follow the religious services. This eccentricity, which proceeded from the fact that the Czarina did not care to be the object of the attention of the congregation, was also made the cause of violent and unseemly attacks upon her person and character.
