The spring of 1913 marked the three hundredth anniversary of the Romanov dynasty. Celebrations began with a great jubilee in St. Petersburg. We arrived from Tsarskoe Selo a few days ahead of the festivities and took up our residence in the Winter Palace. On the first day we drove in open carriages through streets lined with troops to the Cathedral of Our Lady of Kazan where a picturesque ceremony was held. It was a gray, cold and rainy day, in contrast to the brilliance that awaited us inside the Cathedral.
According to custom the Tsar entered first, followed by the Heir to the Crown. When Alexei appeared, it was not a strapping, healthy Tsarevich to whom all the Grand Dukes and dignitaries bowed, but a frail little boy of nine, carried in the arms of a Cossack. This was a sad moment for us. We had hoped Alexei would at least be well enough to walk but he had not recovered sufficiently from his recent illness. We stood under a canopy in the middle of the great church. Alexei sat in a chair. Mother worried about Alexei. She asked us to watch him also. Dr. Derevenko stood nearby. We sisters were dressed in white, as was Mother. She wore the blue ribbon of St. Andrew, the order studded with diamonds and rubies. We had the red ribbon of the order of St. Catherine with its dazzling star. Grandmother Marie stood with us, trim and regal as always, blazing with diamonds, rubies and emeralds. The elite of St. Petersburg were assembled here, a magnificent sight, with the high clergy in golden robes and elaborate mitres, and the high military dignitaries in uniforms embroidered in gold.
During the service a dove flew into the Cathedral and circled above our canopy. Afterwards friends told us they were afraid it would fly into the lighted candles and start a fire, but fortunately it flew out of the church through a door. Since the dove is an important symbol of peace in our religion, a representation of the Holy Ghost, we all wondered if this event had a special significance. (It is worthwhile mentioning that also during the coronation, Father said, “A pigeon flew during the ceremonies.” Later, in Ekaterinburg on the day of tragedy, while we were having our last walk in the yard, a pigeon flew over us three times and then dashed repeatedly against the window.) After the ceremony, in the afternoon, we were attired in national costumes, as were our guests. Mother was especially beautiful, in her high kokoshnik, with her white robe exquisitely embroidered in silver and long veil. In the evening she wore a tiara of Catherine II and a necklace of diamonds. It was valued at several million rubles. It was so heavy that she used it in all only a few times. Olga and Tatiana were attired in soft pink tulle gowns, Marie and I in white silk and lace.
Some evenings later a ball was held in the Winter Palace. It was the first official appearance for us two younger sisters, the first time we participated in such a grand affair. I remember how excitedly we looked forward to that occasion. Mother was indisposed that evening and, after a short while, suggested that we leave early and go to our rooms. Grandmother, however, took our side and asked Mother to let us stay longer, and promised that she would personally look after us. Mother burst into tears and said: “These women of St. Petersburg might talk about the girls, and Anastasia’s jokes might be misinterpreted.”
I was very unhappy that evening for fear that every move I might make or every word I might speak would be used against me. All the innocent joy was taken from me that gala night for fear of those women’s sharp tongues.
From St. Petersburg we proceeded by train to Moscow where the Jubilee continued. On this occasion Mother wore the crown jewels. She never cared for them after the unfortunate incident which occurred during her early married life. At that time Granny felt that she still was entitled to wear the crown jewels instead of the young Empress. In the underground vaults in the Winter Palace there was a section where Mother kept some of her personal jewels. Any time she wished to have them, she notified the court chamberlain, Count Benckendorff, who sent several responsible persons with papers to fetch the desired pieces which were then brought under guard to Mother.
After the anniversary festivities we never spent another night at the Winter Palace, our childhood home. But during the war my sisters often stopped in the rooms for a glass of tea, after various charitable meetings. It is sad to think what became of the treasures stored in those vaults and elsewhere for generations, belonging not only to the Imperial family but to the Russian people as well. These treasures, worth billions of rubles, were held until the leaders of the revolution, Lenin, Trotsky (Bronstein), Apfelbaum, Rosenfeld and others got their clutches upon them. It was rumored that much of it was divided among their relatives who came to our country for that purpose and to kill and loot. These people and their successors have been exporting our Russian national treasures, so long guarded by the Imperial family, and selling them to foreign countries.
From Moscow we went to Vladimir, then to Nizhni Novgorod and to Yaroslavl. The latter—an old historic city with a view of the wide river—was a charming sight. I cannot even begin to describe the enthusiastic reception. Throngs of children, cadets, the nobility and the townspeople lined the streets right down to the dock. What a rich sight from the river—this beautiful city on a little hill! The bells were still ringing until we could no longer hear them. We passed an expanse of meadows, shimmering fields, and the breeze was sweeping like a soft veil over that heavenly country.
In every city there were similar festivities, and dinners with many guests who had been especially selected to honor my Father and my Mother. Father’s guests at dinner were mostly men, and Mother entertained ladies in separate drawing rooms. The famous Plevitskaya sang again and bowed gracefully before the appreciative audience. There were many outstanding entertainments at which we made many new friends.
We were so tired at the end of our trip that Tatiana, in this mood, said: “People and more people—I am tired of them!” Mother, overhearing her say this, reprimanded her.
On our way to Kostroma we sailed on the Volga. People lined the shores, some even wading into the water up to their waists. When our boat developed some trouble and while the repairs were being made, the people thronged the shores and sang “God Save the Tsar.” The Imperial party was delayed in reaching Kostroma. It was in this terraced city overlooking the Volga River that the Romanov dynasty had its official beginning, and now a special ceremony was to be held to celebrate the three hundredth anniversary of the Romanov reign.
At last we reached the city and proceeded to the monument of Susanin. This was a column on which rested a bronze bust of the first Romanov Tsar, Michael Feodorovich. This column was supported by the peasant, Susanin. The latter was the Russian patriot who deliberately misled the Polish army which had invaded Russia and asked Susanin to lead the way to the whereabouts of the newly elected Tsar, who was in hiding. As a result of Susanin’s false directions, the Polish army was destroyed and was driven out. The plot of the famous opera, “A Life for the Tsar” by Glinka, was drawn from this heroic incident. This opera was one of my Father’s favorites. From the time of Feodor Romanov, a number of the brides of the Grand Dukes upon marriage adopted Saint Feodor and took the name of Feodorovna as a patronymic.
From the monument, the procession continued to the Ipatiev Monastery, where the first Romanov was sheltered in 1613. In the monastery courtyard was the beautiful Cathedral of the Holy Trinity and within it stood the iconostasis and the throne of Tsar Michael Feodorovich. This monastery had been built by a Tartar prince who was the founder of the Godunov family and who was the first to be baptized there.
While in the Cathedral we visited the dark rooms in which Michael once had lived. We sat on the chairs with the beautifully embroidered double eagles on their backs, and drank tea from the original containers at the same table once used by Tsar Alexei. In one of the rooms was a portrait of Michael and Alexei Romanov. Both looked a little like my Father. The legend tells us that Alexei was born on St. Job’s day, and so was my Father. And their experiences were sad, but those of Alexei were not as tragic as those of my Father.
Also, we went to the cemetery and laid an exquisite wreath made of silver in the form of the cap of Monomakh and decorated with jewels on the grave of Michael.
Parenthetically speaking, it was a strange coincidence that, in Ekaterinburg in 1918, in the Ipatiev House, the last Emperor of Russia, Nicholas II came to his tragic end. The Romanov dynasty was born in the Ipatiev Monastery in Kostroma in 1613 and died in the Ipatiev House in Ekaterinburg, three hundred and five years later. History tells us that, at the election of Michael Feodorovich Romanov, a crippled beggar woman who claimed to be a wandering saint had predicted that the Romanov dynasty was born with Michael and would die with another Michael. And so it happened. When Father abdicated, his brother Michael succeeded him to the throne but soon abdicated.
Another strange incident was that a three hundred year old tree of immense diameter, said to have been planted by Michael, had been cut down just before we arrived in Kostroma. We saw it mounted on huge wooden blocks to be preserved as an object of historical interest.
One of the members of our party on this trip was Prince Dolgorukov, a direct descendant of the family that built the city of Kostroma and also the first church in the Kremlin in Moscow. Prince Dolgorukov, faithful friend of our family, followed us to Tobolsk and later to Ekaterinburg where he, too, came to a tragic end.
The year 1913 also marked two hundred years since the seat of government moved from Moscow to St. Petersburg in 1713.
During this entire trip we received many gifts and pictures, and our albums were filled with photographs of historic events. On our way home we stopped at the Nicholas Palace in Moscow. At the functions there, Mother wore the old Slavonic robe and the crown jewels. These jewels she never wore again after the Jubilee celebrations ended. This was a year of many anniversaries and festivities. Several regiments celebrated their hundredth anniversary. The Naval Cathedral at Kronstadt was reconsecrated in celebration of its hundredth anniversary. We attended all these functions.
Soon we were back in Tsarskoe Selo resuming our daily routine. During this busy year Baroness Iza Buxhoeveden became lady in waiting, replacing the young Princess Elizabeth (Lili) Obolensky whose health had become impaired. Lili had taken several trips with us, including the one to England. We had known Baroness Buxhoeveden previously. She had already assumed some responsibilities in the palace. All the ladies in waiting were required to be single and to come from titled families. Mother did not believe in all the old court etiquette with its traditions and restrictions. To her it did not matter whether these young ladies were princesses or baronesses. She selected them on the basis of the best possible ability, education and culture. Baroness Buxhoeveden came from a Baltic family which had produced several ambassadors. Her father had been an ambassador to Denmark.
The position of lady in waiting was an honorary one to which many young ladies looked forward. To distinguish their rank from the other staff, they received badges studded with diamonds, with Mother’s initial and a crown on its top. Some were in silver and some in gold according to their length of service. The ladies in waiting were not permitted to discuss political affairs at any time and all the happenings were to be kept in strict secrecy. They were not allowed to enjoy the company of the officers and aides in the palace.
Their duty was to accept telephone calls for Mother and for us girls, make notations of the calls, note incoming and outgoing telegrams, filing them by date, and make a memorandum of all telegrams and letters. They also were to chaperon us on drives or at any other function. Maids, a footman and a carriage were provided for their comfort. Extra ladies were called to the palace for the day if needed. Later during our arrest in Tsarskoe Selo, our letters and telegrams did not escape from being read. Iza shared our deprivations and followed us later to Tobolsk, Siberia, but was not permitted entry into the governor’s house.