THE EMPRESS ALEXANDRA FEODOROVNA AND HER CHILDREN
I have already spoken of the Empress Alexandra Feodorovna, and mentioned
some of the singularities of her character. These singularities have
lately assumed a more decided aspect, and have been the subject of
comment by the public. When the Empress was quite young her shyness was
attributed to timidity; but as years went on it became evident that her
nervous system was seriously impaired. The general report was that she
was given to studying the mysteries of occult science, and that these
studies proved too much for her nerves. She saw dangers where they did
not exist, and was always fearing the catastrophes which were daily
predicted to her by spiritualists who sought their own advantage out of
her weakness. After a time she was prevailed upon to give up these
people, and she turned her mind towards religion. In this connection
gossip has had much to say about a monk called Gregor Raspoutine. He was
a travelling monk, who went about from one place to another preaching
what he called the Kingdom of Heaven. He sprang into notice when he
started a campaign with another monk, named Illiodore, who also called
himself a prophet, and who wanted to found a religion of his own. He was
the abbot of a monastery at Saratoff, where his bishop became one of his
adherents. At first Raspoutine was a follower of Illiodore, then they
became enemies, and each denounced the other. Illiodore was soon
unfrocked after having spent some months as a prisoner in a monastery
far from Saratoff; but Raspoutine, in spite of his many vagaries, which
far exceeded those of Illiodore, escaped prosecution owing, it is said,
to influence in high quarters.
[Illustration: THE CHILDREN OF THE TSAR
Grand Duchess Olga Grand Duchess Tatiana
Grand Duchess Marie Grand Duchess Anastasia
The Tsarevitch Alexis
_Photos: Boissonnas & Eggler, St. Petersburg_]
He was introduced to the Empress by the Grand Duchess Elizabeth her
sister, who from her convent in Moscow still exercised a great influence
over the little Court of Tsarskoye Selo. She suggested to Alexandra
Feodorovna to call to her the wandering monk, who was considered by many
people in the light of a saint, and to ask him to pray for her and for
her children--especially for the Heir to the Throne, who was the object
of her particular anxiety.
Not long after he was brought to the notice of the Empress, Raspoutine
is credited with having persuaded her that as long as he was allowed to
remain she would be safe from any danger, and her children, too, would
always remain unharmed, no matter what might occur. He managed to instil
in her the idea that it was his protection that kept the Heir to the
Throne in good health, and that if he were to be sent away from the
Palace something would happen to the child. So intimate became his
ministrations that whispers were heard, and the matter became a general
subject of conversation among the public, even in far-off provinces.
Newspapers began to make allusions to it in veiled words, and it was
severely discussed in the Duma.
M. Stolypin, who was still alive, tried to send the monk away from St.
Petersburg, but after he had been assassinated Raspoutine came back, and
his influence became stronger than ever. Nevertheless, talk became so
pointed that when the President of the third Duma, M. Rodzianko, was
received in private audience by the Emperor, he ventured to make a
remark about Raspoutine and the gossip to which his perpetual presence
at Tsarskoye Selo gave rise. Nicholas II. became immediately angry, and
told M. Rodzianko in severe terms that no one had the right to repeat
idle tales about the private life of his family.
Nevertheless Raspoutine was sent away for some time. He left the capital
for his native village in the wilds of Siberia, and for a period nothing
was heard about him. Then last autumn the Heir to the Throne fell ill at
Spala, and the Empress, who was quite frantic, cried out aloud that this
misfortune had happened because they had sent Raspoutine into exile. The
monk was recalled, and he was once more admitted into the intimacy of
the Imperial Family. He is always at Tsarskoye Selo, but his presence
there is kept secret, so that a good many people are not even aware that
he has returned. But his influence remains the same, and it is
maintained that the Empress is more convinced than ever that it was his
prayers that saved her son during his last severe illness.
A lot of rubbish has been written about the illness of the Tsarevitch,
and the most stupid tales have been circulated. The reality is sad
enough without exaggeration making it worse. The child, who has been
very delicate ever since his birth, suffers from an organic disease of
the arteries, which are liable to rupture upon the slightest provocation
and even without cause. Already, three years ago, he had to undergo an
operation, which was performed by Professor Fedoroff, one of the doctors
who treated him in the autumn of 1912. The fact was kept secret from the
public. Every effort was made to keep secret the state of health of the
little boy, and to prevent the world from guessing that it gave rise to
uneasiness if not to real anxiety. The child was worshipped by his
parents, who for ten years had been waiting for that son upon whose
existence so much depended. When at last he was born he became an idol
both for his father and for his mother, and indulged to such an extent
that it marred his temperament, converting him into a peevish,
disagreeable child. Every whim he had was gratified at once, and all his
innumerable caprices were obeyed. The result, as can be imagined, has
been disastrous.
Generally children born to exalted positions are brought up with the
utmost care as regards their moral training and their education. The
little Tsarevitch was surrounded with the utmost vigilance, but
unfortunately that vigilance was exerted only in the direction of his
health and his safety. Training he receives none, and education very
little.
The Grand Duke Alexis is now about nine years old, but up to the present
no tutor has been appointed to him. He gets a few lessons from his
mother, and once or twice a week a master comes to teach him how to read
and write; but his only attendant is a sailor, who follows him about
everywhere, and who is at the same time his nurse and his tutor and his
guardian. The man is of common birth, and though perhaps very devoted to
his charge, yet can hardly be considered as the proper trainer for a
future Sovereign. But neither the Emperor nor the Empress thinks it
necessary to give to their only son a tutor of appropriate rank or
birth.
From morning to night the Tsarevitch is told that his existence is so
precious to his parents that no caprice of his is to be allowed to pass
without being at once gratified. He is constantly impressed with his own
importance, and already knows very well his rights, though he entirely
ignores his duties. Arrogant by nature, this arrogance is fostered
instead of being corrected. No one is allowed to rebuke him, or even to
contradict him. The Tsarevitch beats his sisters, tyrannises over his
servants, and whenever anyone attempts to correct him he instantly
threatens the unfortunate person with all kind of punishments.
His entourage, as well as those of his father and mother, do nothing but
flatter him. No one seems to think of the evils such a system of
education carries along with it, nor to reflect on the fate that menaces
the Russian Empire should it ever come to be ruled by the spoilt little
boy who now is Heir to the Throne of the Romanoffs.
A few years ago an anecdote was circulated everywhere in St. Petersburg
concerning the small Tsarevitch. It seems that one morning Ministers
were waiting to be received by the Emperor at the Palace of Tsarskoye
Selo. Among them was M. Izvolsky, at that time head of the Foreign
Office. He was talking with another person seated next to him, and did
not notice the Tsarevitch, who happened to run through the room. The
latter instantly went up to M. Izvolsky, and in an imperious tone told
him that “when the Heir to the Throne crosses a room Ministers ought to
get up.” M. Izvolsky became so confused that he did not know what to do
or to say, and his confusion became still worse when, a few moments
later, the Emperor, at the end of the audience which he granted to him,
asked him what misunderstanding he had had with the Tsarevitch. M.
Izvolsky hardly found words to explain, and Nicholas II. told him then,
with evident pride, “Yes, later on you will find it harder to deal with
my son than with me.”
The incident is characteristic, as it shows that the Tsar never realised
the importance of the words spoken by his little son. A far-seeing
father would have severely rebuked the child for his insolence, and told
him that at six years old one ought to learn one’s lessons and not make
remarks to people whose age and position entitled them to respect; but
Nicholas II. was only struck with what appeared to him to be the spirit
of independence shown by the Tsarevitch.
Another anecdote was related about the Tsarevitch. It seems that he is
always very eager to be saluted by the soldiers whom he meets, and by
the regiments assembling at reviews. Now etiquette in Russia exacts that
when the Sovereign is present he only is saluted by the troops. The boy
did not like this, pride being thus rebuked, so that whenever he was
present at a parade, such as takes place at Tsarskoye Selo on the days
when a regiment celebrates its religious feast, he used to run in
advance of his father so as to be saluted before the soldiers perceived
their Sovereign. This was noticed, and upon the representations of the
Grand Duke Nicholas, who told the Emperor that the troops got so
confused at this that they did not know what they were to do, or who
they were to salute, the Tsarevitch was forbidden to leave his father’s
side.
In spite of a system of education which is only directed towards the
care of his person in the physical sense, the little Grand Duke does not
grow a healthy child. Perhaps his delicacy is in part responsible for
his peevish temper; perhaps it only proceeds from the mistaken way in
which he is being brought up. But most certainly the boy is constantly
ailing. His mother watches him day and night, and he is her only care;
doctors are seldom absent from his bedside, his father forgets
everything if his little son has an ache, but all this does not give the
Tsarevitch good health. For some years now the Imperial Family have
spent months at a time at the Crimea in the hope that the sojourn in a
mild climate will do away with the child’s weakness, and help him to
attain better health. But nothing seems to help; indeed, in the autumn
of 1912 it became impossible longer to hide from the public the state
of health of the Emperor’s only son. Even then, however, the precise
cause of his illness was not revealed, and deceptive bulletins were
published, and such mystery surrounded the illness of the little boy
that it gave rise to all kinds of silly tales which were circulated
abroad and in Russia, among people who had no means of coming into
contact with the Imperial Family or with Court Society in St.
Petersburg.
As I have said already, the truth is sad enough, because it is
considered certain that there is very little hope that the Tsarevitch
will reach manhood, and this knowledge impels heartfelt sympathy towards
his parents, who, after having longed for so many years for the birth of
this heir, now have to resign themselves to the probability that his
days are numbered.
It is in part that sad knowledge which makes the Empress so
extraordinary in her ways, and so inclined to call every possible help,
whether mystic or material, which even faintly gives the barest
possibility of saving her son. It also explains why she has become so
strange, and hates so much to see anyone, or to take part in any
festivity, even for the sake of her daughters. Of these the two eldest
ones are already grown up and lead sad lives, never being permitted to
enjoy themselves as girls of their age generally do. Rumour will have it
that the eldest, the Grand Duchess Olga, will soon be married, and one
can only hope that for once rumour does not lie.