THE ENTOURAGE OF THE EMPEROR AND EMPRESS
The painful circumstances under which the nuptials of Nicholas II. and
Alexandra Feodorovna were celebrated prevented them from gathering St.
Petersburg Society around them, and getting to know it well enough to be
able to select their friends therefrom. The deep mourning for the late
Emperor obliged his successor to remain in retirement for a whole year,
and that retirement was the more complete because the newly wedded
Imperial couple had taken up their first abode with the Dowager Empress
in the Anitchkov Palace. Consequently they were deprived of a home of
their own.
It is true that in the course of the February following upon her
marriage the Court was presented to the young Empress at one solemn
reception. But this did not efface the feeling of being a stranger among
those with whom she lived, and it weighed heavily upon Alexandra
Feodorovna’s mind. She felt lost, and of course was more susceptible
than she would otherwise have been to the impressions that were given to
her by the few people she was allowed to see.
The Empress Dowager was wrapped up in her grief, and had hardly emerged
from it when her relations with her daughter-in-law became strained. Her
sister, the Grand Duchess Elizabeth, lived in Moscow, and with the other
Grand Duchesses the bride had nothing in common. Consequently she was
left almost entirely to herself in an atmosphere which was not
congenial to her tastes. She was thus thrown upon her immediate
surroundings, and became more or less intimate with her Mistress of the
Robes, the Princess Mary Galitzine.
This lady has played an important part in the life of the Empress.
The Princess Galitzine, who came from a family belonging to the merchant
class, was a remarkable woman. She had been married when a girl of
sixteen to Prince Galitzine, who was about thirty years older than
herself, but rich, in a high position, and boasting of the title of
Serene Highness, which so very few families possess in Russia. He was a
man of an easy temperament, content with everything, and living a life
of his own, in which his wife had little or even no part at all. She was
not pretty, but clever, ambitious, charming when she liked to show
herself so, and wonderfully attractive to men. She knew it, and did not
repulse the homage offered to her. Her pursuit of pleasure was so
zealous that had it not been for her husband and the influence of his
family, it was freely stated she would not have been forgiven so easily
her irregularities of conduct. She was ambitious, intriguing, and
unsparing in her criticisms. At the same time she was a faithful friend
to all who looked to her for protection and who worshipped at her
shrine.
When the question of appointing the Household of the new Empress came to
be discussed, people wondered who was to become Mistress of the Robes.
Rumour said that it would be Madame Elizabeth Narischkine, a person of
great tact, kind, generous, amiable, with no remarkable intelligence
perhaps, but possessing a perfect knowledge of the world and polite in
the extreme. Princess Kourakine, her mother, had been Mistress of the
Robes to the Empress Marie Feodorovna when she first arrived in Russia.
Madame Narischkine had been reared in the atmosphere of a Court, and
also had been lady-in-waiting to the Grand Duchess Olga Feodorovna. She
would have been an excellent guide for the young Empress, at the head of
whose Household she is to-day, and certainly if she had been chosen from
the first to occupy that position a good many of the blunders innocently
committed by Alexandra Feodorovna would have been avoided.
But the Emperor determined to give the post to a lady of independent
means rather than to one in the Court entourage. The name of the
Princess Galitzine was put forward by one of her former admirers,
wanting thus to acquit himself for past kindnesses, and Nicholas II.
appointed her, being impressed by her great name and position, by the
reputation for independence which she had contrived to win for herself,
and a certain brusquerie in her manners and speech when she expressed
her opinions.
The Princess had been a widow for some years when she was appointed
Mistress of the Robes. This gave her the opportunity to obtain an
apartment in the Winter Palace, and thus to be constantly at the beck
and call of her Imperial mistress. She began by saying that she did not
care for the brilliant position which was offered her, and that she had
only accepted it because she thought it her duty not to refuse the
benefit of her experience to the young wife of her Sovereign. In
reality, she was delighted beyond words.
She also wanted power and money, and she got both. Her finances--which
had been rather entangled when she appeared at Court--she soon set
straight; not by means of the Imperial gifts showered upon her, but
through the knowledge which she acquired and which she used with great
intelligence and _savoir faire_. As for power, she managed to establish
herself so firmly in the good graces of her Sovereign, that not only
was she listened to and consulted in everything, but also she was given
the highest title that can be awarded to a woman at the Russian Court,
that of Head Mistress of the Robes. This title, _bien entendu_,
Alexander III. had refused to confer even upon Princess Hélène
Kotchoubey, because he did not care to establish a precedent in a
function that can only be compared with that of _surintendante_ at the
Court of the French kings, the inconveniences of which were pointed out
when it was granted to the Princesse de Lamballe, by the ill-fated Marie
Antoinette.
The Princess Galitzine had never liked the Dowager Empress, whom she had
always mercilessly criticised whenever an opportunity had occurred. She
was most anxious for Alexandra Feodorovna not to fall under the
influence of her mother-in-law, whose natural amiability of character
would have always been exercised in favour of graciousness being shown
to everybody, even the people one did not like.
Marie Michailovna, as the Mistress of the Robes was familiarly called,
had but a limited knowledge of etiquette such as it was formerly in
existence at the Russian Court. This led her into many blunders, for
which the Empress was made responsible.
The nuances, the tact, that exquisite knowledge of the world which had
distinguished Princess Kotchoubey, who was a great lady, recognised as
such everywhere, were dead letters to her successor.
The dignity, the ease without familiarity, which distinguished the
Russian Court disappeared, and Princess Galitzine introduced stiffness
where formerly magnificence reigned. She acted as if it was beneath her
to show kindness to those persons with whom she came into contact, and
did what she could to accentuate the cold way in which Society was held
at a distance by the Empress.
Her receptions were amusing to follow and to watch. Whenever someone
unknown to her presented himself or herself, although arriving from some
distant province of the Empire, the Princess Mary literally crushed them
with the few dry remarks and the way in which she caused them to feel
that they ought never to have come.
She hardly said “Good morning” to these personages, and never said
“Good-bye”; she treated them as if they had no right to exist, and yet
very often these same persons were of considerable importance in their
own districts. Thus, when they returned home they naturally related that
they had not even been accorded a polite welcome in the capital, whither
they had travelled to pay their respects to their Sovereign.
The Princess Galitzine also wielded considerable influence in political
affairs, although she never understood much about them. Nevertheless,
several people were appointed to high positions by her efforts. For
instance, of General Kouropatkine, who, it is said, was her special
protégé, she sang the praises so long and so often to Nicholas II. that
the Emperor superseded General Vannovski--who for a number of years had
been at the head of the War Office, and who was an outspoken man, and
decided that he could not do better than appoint General Kouropatkine to
that responsible position.
She also interested herself in foreign politics. Once she had a serious
altercation with Count Muravieff, just before the latter’s death,
concerning a dispatch which he wanted to send to London about his
negotiations with Japan on the Korean question. Count Muravieff,
however, though the most courteous of men, was not one to yield in
important questions, and refused to satisfy the Princess Galitzine.
When the war with its disasters had come to an end, and was followed by
the Revolution as an aftermath, the Princess Galitzine became even more
energetic than formerly. She was a warm partisan of M. Stolypin, who
owed much to her influence. They were of sympathetic temperaments,
perhaps because they both had the reputation of being able to do
everything that they wanted. Certainly Marie Michailovna never missed a
single opportunity. She was the partisan of the rigorous system being
introduced, but nevertheless welcomed the Duma when it was decided to
call one together. Gossip said that she was the echo of the wishes of
Nicholas II., simply because very often she had inspired those wishes.
Students of contemporary history hold the opinion that she discredited
the Throne, and that she raised against her Sovereigns such a storm of
hatred that it is difficult to foresee when and where it will end. She
managed to make them unpopular even in the many good deeds they did, and
she inculcated in the young Empress a feeling of suspicion against her
people which is to be feared nothing will ever drive from her mind. The
Princess Galitzine died some two or three years ago.
Madame Narischkine is a charming woman, gracious, dignified, amiable,
polite, and a great philanthropist, giving up all her spare time in the
cause of charity, and especially concentrating her activity upon the
work of attending to the physical and moral wants of the inmates of
prisons. No one knows the good she has done in that direction, and she
is so busy that even if her nature was not foreign to any kind of
intrigue she could not find the time, as every moment is employed in one
way or another. She is a _grande dame_ in manners and appearance, though
quite small, and by no means good looking. But she is the right person
in the right place--or, at least, she would be if the influence of her
predecessor had not destroyed beforehand any effort she might feel
inclined to make in order to introduce some changes in the conduct of a
Court which now exists but in name, for the Empress has so entirely
retired from the world that it has ceased to be considered of any
importance by Society. The great mistake of allowing Court life to
decline was clearly understood by the great Marie Thérèse, who, when she
wrote to her daughter, Marie Antoinette, said: “I am glad to hear that
you are going to take up again all the official receptions of
Versailles. I know how empty and dull that kind of thing is, but,
believe me, if it is not observed, the inconveniences that result from
its neglect are far more important than the small annoyance that it
causes.”
Beyond her Mistress of the Robes, the Empress Alexandra has four
ladies-in-waiting in constant attendance upon her, who live in the
Palace. Her daughters have a governess who also wears the Imperial
cipher in diamonds on a blue ribbon, which distinguishes the maids of
honour from other ladies in Society; and then there is a German lady, a
Mademoiselle Schneider, who came with the Empress to Russia from
Darmstadt, and who is supposed to read to her aloud. The Empress has
also a secretary who attends to her business and her official letters;
but outside this limited number of persons her only other friends are
Madame Vyroubiev (who stays with her day and night, and who is in
possession of all her confidence), and a monk called Gregor Raspoutine,
upon whose counsels she places dependence but about whom rumour has been
exceedingly busy.
After the _Grande maîtresse_, or Mistress of the Robes, the greatest
functionary of the Imperial Court is the Minister of the Household. This
post has always been occupied by an intimate and personal friend of the
Sovereign, as for instance, Count Adlerberg under Alexander II., and
Count Worontzoff Dachkoff under his successor. The present holder,
General Baron Freedericksz, is _the_ type _par excellence_ of a perfect
courtier, and a gentleman in the fullest acceptation of the word.
The Baron, who began his career in the First Horse Guard regiment, is a
personage very much liked, perhaps because he has always been found to
be inoffensive. He has an imposing presence, and his long, drooping
moustache gives him the appearance of one of those musketeers whom Dumas
has immortalised in the stories of d’Artagnan. But there ends the
resemblance. He has little energy, and is without independence save that
derived from an enormous fortune. He would seldom oppose, still less
tell a displeasing truth to, his Sovereign. He has fine manners, tact,
knowledge of the world, and all the advantages of a handsome physique,
clothed in a brilliant uniform. He has no desire to play a political
rôle, being one of these happy-go-lucky fellows who thinks the world a
nice place to live in, and has no desire to see farther than that
pleasant fact.
The Master of the Imperial Household is Count Benckendorff, whom I have
already had occasion to mention. He is a gentleman who has always done
the right thing, even when it was not palatable to him. His brother is
Ambassador in London, where he is likely to remain for some time to
come.
The Military Secretary of the Emperor is General Prince Orloff, the son
of the former Ambassador in Paris and Berlin. He owes his position to
his name and fortune, but it is rumoured he is liked neither by the
Sovereign nor by his Consort. The Princess Orloff, his wife, by birth a
Princess Belosselsky and the granddaughter of the Princess Hélène
Kotchoubey, is certainly the smartest woman in St. Petersburg. She is
rather spare in figure; nevertheless she looks supremely elegant when
she enters a room, and the charm of her appearance is such that looking
at her one entirely forgets to talk to her, which perhaps is just as
well.
The Emperor has three aides-de-camp with whom he is on exceedingly
familiar terms. This friendship dates from the time when, as Heir to the
Throne, he was performing his military duties in the Preobrajensky
Regiment of the Guards. These are M. Narischkine, the son of Madame
Elizabeth Narischkine, Colonel Swetchine, and Colonel Drenteln. Nicholas
II. treats them not only with kindness, but also allows them an intimacy
which he does not permit to others, however exalted. In their company he
often attends dinners at the messes of the different regiments of the
Guards, remaining with them until the small hours of the morning, and
forgetting for a few brief moments that he is a Sovereign, in the
pleasure of listening to Bohemian girls singing their wild ballads, or
in that of sipping slowly a glass of champagne. These dinners are almost
the only recreation which Nicholas II. allows himself, and they
constitute for him a distraction unspoilt by the trammels of etiquette,
or the vigilance of masters of the ceremonies eager to remind the
Sovereign of duties which he would fain forget.
Except the people whom I have mentioned, and the officers of the
Imperial yacht, who are also more or less admitted into the intimacy of
the Imperial Family, the Emperor and the Empress have no friends, no
people with whom they can talk or discuss the events of the world. The
solitude in which they live is complete, their isolation from mankind
entire, and in view of this disastrous fact one can only wonder that the
mistakes they make are not even more serious than is the case.