THE FIRST MONTHS OF THE CZARINA’S MARRIED LIFE
[Illustration:_International Film Service_
THE EX-CZAR NICHOLAS II OF RUSSIA]
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_.”
In those early days of her married life there arose another cause of
friction between the Empress and her mother-in-law. It was connected
with the manner of praying in church for the two ladies. The Dowager
insisted that her name ought to come first, immediately after that of
her son, the Sovereign. But the ministers, and even the Holy Synod,
objected and declared that, according to custom, the mother ought to
rank after the wife. Finally it was the opinion of the Synod that
prevailed. But Alexandra Feodorovna, who had interested herself deeply
in the matter, was not wise enough to hide her joy at the turn things
had taken, and this of course contributed to the strained relations
that soon established themselves between her and the widow of Alexander
III.
No harmony reigned at the Anitschkoff Palace during those early days of
my mistress’ married life, and it is no wonder that the latter became
more and more embittered as time went on. She felt herself neglected,
and did nothing to please those whom she suspected of wilfully
slighting her. She had a morbid desire to please, combined with a
natural haughtiness, which made her not only sensible to a rebuff, but
also desirous of avenging it. She did not care to be brushed aside
by her relatives, and yet she was herself contributing to the cause
of their actions, by her aloofness from all those who might have been
of use to her. She did not understand St. Petersburg society; she
considered it immoral and fast, and she made no secret of the fact,
snubbing unnecessarily people strong enough to do her serious harm by
their judgments and appreciations of her conduct and personality. The
misunderstandings which caused her future unpopularity began from the
very first hours of her arrival in Russia.
With her attendants, however, she was always kind and gracious,
though distant in her manner. It was only after many years that she
grew to have confidence in me, but then it was a complete one, and
sometimes she would allow herself to give way in my presence to
fits of despondency such as over-took her from time to time, during
which I feel perfectly convinced she was not entirely responsible
for her actions. Her mind, always prone to melancholy, made her look
at things on their blackest side, and this partly accounts for the
tendency towards mysticism which she was to develop later on, and which
contributed, more than anything else, to the catastrophe that was
to send her an exile to the solitudes of Siberia. She was never well
balanced, and, when judging her, one must not forget that insanity was
hereditary in the House of Hesse, a fact of which many people in Russia
were aware, but of which it seems that the Imperial family were left in
ignorance. Sensitive to a degree, she could not get rid of prejudices
which she was inclined to adopt without any reason other than caprice,
and prejudices are among the things which sovereigns ought never to
entertain in regard to those whom they may happen to meet, or with
whom they are surrounded. But with it all she was sweet and gentle,
and good, and conscientious; a perfect mother, a most devoted wife, a
staunch friend, incapable of meanness or of treachery, but destined by
her very qualities to be always misunderstood, and never appreciated as
she ought to have been. Amidst the pomp and splendour that surrounded
her she was lonely; she felt isolated, and though she had found on
her arrival in her new country hosts of relatives and courtiers, she
had not met one single disinterested friend whom she could trust, or
towards whom she could turn for advice and protection. The grandeur
of her position put her, as it were, outside of the world, and,
unfortunately, she was so overpowered by this grandeur that she did not
even attempt to break through the barriers it had erected around her,
and which divided her from the rest of mankind.