Owing to the haste with which the royal wedding was celebrated there was no time to prepare in advance suitable apartments for the Czar and his bride in any of the Imperial palaces either in St. Petersburg or in Czarskoi Selo. The latter residence had from the very first been spoken of as the future abode of the young couple, being a favourite one with the new Sovereign. But the Alexander Palace, the only one which was more or less adapted to the exigencies of modern life, had not been inhabited since the death of the Empress Marie Alexandrovna, the Consort of Alexander II., and required to be entirely overhauled. The Winter Palace, too, was in want of renovation, and particularly unsuitable, as the young Empress had expressed a wish to have the apartments which she was to occupy newly furnished, according to her own tastes and ideas. The result of this state of things was that the newly married couple spent the first months of their wedded life in the Anitschkoff Palace, the residence of the Dowager Empress, in the small rooms which had been occupied by Nicholas II. as a bachelor, rooms that were anything but comfortable, and where there was not even sufficient place for the wardrobe of the bride, who, besides, found herself without a sitting-room of her own, and had to borrow that of her mother-in-law whenever she wished to receive any one.

Of course this was not pleasant for her, and I will add that it put her from the very outset in a false position which she felt acutely. She was being treated like a child, and she would not have been human had she been pleased with the situation. During the first weeks of her marriage, when the whole court was still in deep mourning for the late Czar, it did not perhaps matter as much as it would have done later on, or under different circumstances, but still it was disagreeable. The Dowager Empress was, in her way, just such an authoritative character as was her daughter-in-law, therefore the two ladies soon found themselves in strong opposition, and, though they did not own to it, became heartily tired of each other. Six weeks after the wedding Alexandra Feodorovna persuaded her husband to go for one week to Czarskoi Selo, and when she returned to St. Petersburg I found that a considerable change had taken place in her manners and bearing, much of her former diffidence and shyness having disappeared. She began to decide for herself certain things she would not have dreamt of doing before without having consulted her mother-in-law, and she organised her personal existence after her own heart. The first changes which she introduced concerned her maids’ attendance upon her, and she called me into her presence one morning to discuss them at length, refusing to listen to some observations which I thought it my duty to make to her. In my opinion it would have been better to have waited until we had moved out of the Anitschkoff Palace before altering the rules which presided over the dressing-room and wardrobe paraphernalia of the young Empress, but my observations were not kindly received, and I was told most peremptorily to obey the instructions given to me, which of course I did, but not without misgivings as to the opportuneness of the changes introduced in the routine of my Imperial mistress’ existence.

Amongst others was the disposal of the cast-off dresses of the young Empress. These were legion, as she had been presented with a trousseau of unusual abundance. But they were all of them, or nearly all, mourning or half-mourning gowns, and Alexandra seemed in haste to get rid of them. She had her own ideas in the matter of her toilets, and generally sketched, herself, the clothes which she ordered. She had not good taste, this much must be admitted, but she cared for dresses, and liked to see hers renewed as often as possible. Sometimes she had three or four garments laid out and displayed before her eyes before she finally made a choice. She had the idea that as a Sovereign she ought to dress with great magnificence from the very first hours of the morning, and she disdained the simple tailor costumes which, on the contrary, were so much liked by her mother-in-law. The latter had been the best dressed woman in her empire, but she had never fussed about her clothes, and had affected a great simplicity in her every day attire, reserving for state occasions the many Paris creations that were being constantly sent over to her. In a small house like the Anitschkoff Palace the servants knew, of course, everything that was going on, and much gossip passed between the maids of the two Empresses, those of the young one complaining to the attendants of the Dowager of the fussiness of their mistress in regard to her toilet. This gossip reached higher than the housekeeper’s room, and contributed to the reputation for caprice that Alexandra Feodorovna acquired almost immediately after her marriage, a reputation that was to cling to her and to harm her so much in public opinion later on.

Now I feel persuaded that if the Emperor and Empress had had from the very first days of their married life a home of their own, this would have been avoided, because there would have been no opportunity for gossip between servants. As it was, the Dowager once or twice made remarks to her daughter-in-law concerning the manner in which she worried her attendants by too much fuss about her clothes, and these were, of course, very badly received. And Alexandra Feodorovna bitterly resented an allusion that was made to the fact that when she was at Darmstadt she would not have dared to display such a capricious temper. All these things were but trifles, but nevertheless they were to exercise considerable influence on the afterlife of my mistress.

The Empress was inordinately fond of beautiful furs and used to spend considerable sums in acquiring continually new and most costly ones. For this, too, she was reproached, and told that her trousseau had contained sufficient fur garments, so that there was no necessity to be always buying new ones. She was reported to be extravagant, with reason perhaps, though there was nothing inordinate about her love for pretty things; certainly the bills which she ran at Worth’s and Paquin’s, and other dressmakers of repute, were not half so large as those which her mother-in-law had incurred formerly. But then the latter had always been a favourite, and St. Petersburg society had smiled on everything she had ever done or said.

One of my duties was to take care of the Empress’s jewels. She had received some splendid and costly wedding presents from her relatives in England and Russia, and especially from the Emperor, who, among other things, had presented her with an all round crown of pearls and diamonds which, together with some wonderful sapphires, he had bought in London when he had paid her a visit there during their betrothal. She loved to wear them, and at first had not given a thought to the possibility of having to lay them aside for far more splendid parures and ornaments. But very soon after her marriage there arose a question concerning the Crown jewels, which were supposed to be devoted to the use of the reigning Empress. During the reign of Alexander III., the Empress Marie had had them in her own keeping, and by his will the Emperor had given her the use of them for her lifetime. Now it seems that he had not the power to dispose of them, and very naturally the treasury claimed them after the demise of the Czar. His widow, however, stoutly refused to give them up, and painful scenes ensued, which assumed such proportions that at last Alexandra Feodorovna declared that, for her part, she would never consent to wear the ornaments in dispute, that her mother-in-law was welcome to them, and could keep them as long as she liked. This, however, could not be done, and at last the jewels were returned to the treasury whence they were sometimes taken and handed over to me, with great ceremony, for the use of my mistress on state occasions. But the Empress never liked them, and avoided putting them on, preferring her own jewels. She declared that the big pearl and diamond tiara, which, since the days of Catherine II., had graced the head of all the Russian Empresses, was far too heavy. I do not think I have seen her wear more than four or five times the famous necklace valued at twenty millions of roubles, which, on the contrary, had been one of the favourite ornaments of the Dowager Empress. The last time this historical jewel was seen in public was at the ball given by the nobility of St. Petersburg on the occasion of the three hundredth anniversary of the accession of the dynasty of Romanoff to the throne of the Ruriks, in February, 1915, which was also the last time that the Empress Alexandra ever appeared at any save a religious festivity.

Whenever she decided to put on any of those Crown jewels I had to send a note announcing her intention to the head treasurer in charge of the strong room where the diamonds and precious stones of the Czar were kept. He then summoned an escort of three soldiers out of the guard on duty in the Winter Palace, and, surrounded by them, brought me the articles I had requested him to deliver. I had to give a receipt for them, and as soon as the Empress had taken them off I had to advise that same treasurer of the fact, then he immediately came with another escort to reclaim them, returning to me at the same time the receipt I had signed a few hours previous. The complications associated with this procedure were one of the reasons that made the Empress averse to using those ornaments, about which she did not care. She much preferred adding constantly to her private jewel boxes, and soon she became possessed of one of the most remarkable collections of precious stones in Europe. Pearls were her special favourites, and the Emperor, who was aware of the fact, was constantly presenting her with additions to her various necklaces, and other pearl ornaments, and the two Court jewellers, Bolin and Faberge, had a standing order to bring to Czarskoi Selo every fine specimen they could get hold of, before showing it to any one else among their customers.

This passion of the Empress for constantly acquiring new ornaments was also a cause of bitter reproach, and one of her aunts, the Grand Duchess Marie Pavlovna, who was anything but kind and charitable, once characterised it as “un gout de parvenue.”