The Czar has looked very preoccupied during the last few days. As we were coming back from our walk he said to me:
“It seems Rvssky has resigned. He had asked that an offensive should be undertaken. (One asks now; one no longer gives orders!) The Soldiers’ Committees refused. If this is true it is the end! What humiliation! To remain on the defensive and not attack is suicide! We’re going to let our allies be crushed, and then it will be our turn.”
Monday, May 14th.—The Czar returned to our conversation of yesterday, adding:
“What gives me a little hope is our love of exaggeration. I can’t believe that our army at the front is as bad as they say; it can’t have fallen to this extent in two months.”
Thursday, May 17th.—It appears that the end has been reached of the serious Government crisis that has lasted a fortnight. The news from Petrograd seems less bad. The new Council of Ministers, reconstituted with the addition of a few representatives of the soldiers and workmen, will perhaps succeed in establishing its authority. Meanwhile anarchy is everywhere gaining ground.
Saturday, May 19th.—The Czar’s birthday. (He is forty-nine.) Mass and congratulations.
Sunday, May 27th.—For some time we have been allowed only a very small supply of wood, and it is intensely cold everywhere. Mme. Narichkine (Grand-Mistress of the Court) has been taken ill, and was sent away to-day, the state of her health demanding care which cannot be given here. She was in despair at the idea of leaving us, for she knows she will not be permitted to return to the palace.
Saturday, June 2nd.—We are still working every day at the kitchen garden. We are watering it from a tub which we take turns to drag.
Sunday, June 10th.—A few days ago the children were playing on their island (an artificial islet in the middle of a little lake). Alexis Nicolaïevitch was practising handling his little gun, which he thinks a lot of, as it was given to the Czar when he was a boy by his father. An officer came up to us. He told me that the soldiers had decided to take the gun away from the Czarevitch, and were coming for it. When he heard this, Alexis Nicolaïevitch put down his toy and joined the Czarina, who was sitting on the grass a few yards from us. A moment later the officer on duty came with two soldiers and demanded that the “weapon” should be given up. I tried to intervene and make them understand that the gun was not a weapon but a toy. It was no use: they took possession of it. Alexis Nicolaïevitch began to sob. His mother asked me to make another attempt to convince the soldiers, but I did not succeed any better than the first time, and they went off with their prize.
Half an hour later the officer on duty took me aside