During the summer we vacationed on the yacht, but, since Tsarskoe Selo was inland, we went beforehand to Peterhof on the Gulf of Finland. There was a splendid feeling of anticipation of a trip ahead. The great palace of Peterhof was too formal with its many groups of fountains and Peter the Great grandeur. We preferred to stay in the little Alexandria Cottage, while we waited for Father to get away. It was exciting for us children. I remember how often I packed and unpacked my little suitcase, with scraps of papers, which I called my secret records. Among my prized possessions was an old bedroom slipper on which our dogs loved to chew. These things in the little suitcase were my precious childish treasures.
Alexandria Cottage stood to the east of Peterhof Palace; it consisted of two simple buildings joined to each other by an enclosed passageway. We had a glassed-in winter garden where palms and other tropical plants abounded and flowers flourished. Also, there were garden chairs and a doll house for us children to play in during the rainy days. Occasionally we had our luncheon here.
This estate had originally been purchased by my great-great-grandfather, Nicholas I, and he was the first to occupy it. There was a saying that Peterhof started with Nicholas and would end with Nicholas. The park was beautifully landscaped, with winding paths, ravines, and magnificent white birches against the green spruce trees. Its natural rustic beauty had been preserved since the time of Nicholas I.
The entrance to the grounds of Peterhof presented a breathtaking view. Tall, graceful trees on both sides arched the roadway, while between them were fountains, bronze statues representing various historical events and enormous urns filled with flowers. A short distance away was a pavilion, a tall tower which we often climbed to get a view of the activities on the Island of Kronstadt. We walked to worship at the nearby Alexander Nevsky Church, named after a national hero who defeated the enemies of Russia in the thirteenth century. From Peterhof we took a tender to Kronstadt, the naval base on the island bearing the same name. There we boarded the yacht, the “Standard”, which was too large to come in to the wharf of Peterhof. We youngsters were each assigned a sailor to watch over us. My poor sailor had his hands full since disappearing was almost an obsession with me. Once he caught me just in time as I climbed the ship’s rail and nearly fell overboard.
Our cabins were large and airy; they were upholstered in light chintzes and each had a washstand, cold and hot water, dresser and desk. Olga and Tatiana occupied one cabin; Marie and I, another. Dinners were held in the big dining salon on the upper deck. There was a chapel where services were held regularly by the ship’s chaplain. Mother as at home stood behind the screen. The “Standard” was painted black with gold decorations at the bow and the stern. It was a two-decker and had two smoke stacks.
I was often frightened on the “Standard” when at sunset a gun salute was fired from the deck. It hurt my ears. When it was time for the firing of guns I would run through the corridor down to the other side of the boat and hold my hands over my ears. The hoisting of the flag took place at 9:00 A.M. and the lowering at sunset.
Charles Dehn, captain of the “Standard,” was a person whose companionship Father enjoyed, and my brother was Captain Dehn’s shadow. Alexei never questioned anything “Pekin Dehn” said. Dehn’s wife, Lili, was a dear friend of my Mother’s, as well as of us children. Mother was the godmother of their infant son, Titi, who occasionally came to visit us. When he was about seven years old, he could already speak several languages. We loved to see this handsome boy. At tea time he sat next to Mother. When she poured tea, he asked, “Sugar, Madame, and how many?”
Another officer of the yacht, Drenteln, was one of Father’s aides-de-camp and a devoted friend; he accompanied us on our trips. He knew Father from his young years and went with him to the Preobrazhensky regiment. Father found him interesting and they often talked all evening and well into the morning.
Father enjoyed all kinds of sports: tennis, boxing, swimming, diving; and he could stay under water some minutes. He was an expert rider and an excellent dancer, but was not especially fond of hunting. He was devoted to the Navy and when we were on our cruises he spent a great deal of time studying navigation. He was particularly proud of the “Standard” which was built at the Bay of Odense in Denmark at the time of his marriage. During one of our cruises we visited the yard where the boat was built. Each cruise brought fond memories to my parents of their honeymoon. Mother once said that the happiest years in her life were on board the “Standard”.
For us a cruise meant spending a part of each day on shore, tramping in the Finnish forests. On the yacht our attendants turned a rope for us girls to jump. Then there was the tug of war with an admiral or a captain and other officers joining in. Sometimes we roller-skated on the deck. Everyone participated in the fun, except Mother and Alexei. They could not enjoy activities, but they joined in the laughter.
Occasionally we received word that the Dowager Empress Marie, my Father’s mother, was cruising on the “Polar Star” in the neighborhood and would pay us a visit. On board was Admiral Prince Viazemsky. Immediately the holiday atmosphere changed to serious work. We children had to stay on board, practicing our music, because Grandmother always liked to see our musical progress and a concert was invariably planned. Grandmother was a gifted musician herself and was brought up in a musical atmosphere with her whole family constituting an orchestra. I was told that on one occasion the public was invited to a concert in which her whole family took part, including her father (Apapa), who later became King Christian IX of Denmark, and her mother (Amama), subsequently Queen Louise.
When Grandmother Minnie arrived everyone became tense. I especially felt rebellious at the endless warnings to be on my good behavior. We three younger children had our own early supper, because we could not sit quietly through the dinner in her honor. Try as I might, I was bound to do the wrong thing and disappoint everyone when Grandmother was around. Fortunately her visits were not long and the minute she left we resumed our former manners.
When our yacht anchored in a sheltered cove, we went mushroom hunting. Mother and Alexei seldom joined us in this. But when Alexei came, together we darted this way and that way, dodging the tall trees, and trying to catch the scent of mushrooms. The ground was all springy with pine needles and moss so that we fairly hopped along. It was fun to hear the twigs crunch beneath our feet.
Father was a fast walker; to keep up with him, I had to run. On one of these walks we came to a little stream, partly covered with twigs and moss. Father jumped over it and stretched out his hand to me. “Jump,” he said. The ground was slippery and uneven and I failed to get a firm enough grip on Father’s hand so I fell into the middle of the brook, with its bed of yellow mud and clay. My face, hair and dress were plastered with mud and so were my canvas shoes. The long, wet walk sent me to bed for a while.
Before the war we used to take a trip every other year to Fredensborg Palace near Copenhagen. It was great fun for us children to visit the white villa at Hvidore, which stood majestically amidst the flowering trees and bushes, with its terraces offering a magnificent view of the sea, each level rising smaller and smaller to the top.
From the terraces the sight of sailboats and yachts in the bay gave us a feeling of tranquility and relaxation. Beyond the marshes were the Danish farms with their charming thatched-roof houses, tall poplar trees, golden wheat fields and millions of scarlet poppies which added grandeur to this natural landscape. It was this that impressed my young mind during our first visit. This villa belonged to my little Grandmother and her sisters, Queen Alexandra of England and Thyra, Duchess of Cumberland. It was at this quiet place at Fredensborg where the happy family reunion took place during the summer months.
We were especially excited on one occasion when Queen Alexandra and Uncle Bertie (King Edward VII of England) joined us at Reval on their yacht, the “Victoria and Albert”. I recollect that King Edward came dressed in Scottish kilts. Grandmother Marie and Aunt Olga arrived on their yacht, the “Polar Star”. Later we were joined by Uncle George, who subsequently became King George V of England, with his wife May (Queen Mary) and their children, including the eldest son David, later Edward, Prince of Wales. In addition, there were many other boys and girls belonging to other relatives. We had a great family reunion and a full schedule of activities. Fishing, bathing, rowing, wading in the shallow waters in the bay and various games were the order of the day. We youngsters enjoyed the high swings which were put up especially for us. Alexei, though only four or five years of age, had been well versed in geography and could name all the various ports in the Baltic. The Russian Ambassador to London, Count Alexander Benckendorff, regarded Alexei as being an unusually bright child. Soon we were off again in the fiords for a glimpse of Norway. When we were in sight of Christiania (Oslo), so many yachts and other vessels surrounded the “Standard” that we were forced to turn back. Apparently the news of our visit had preceded us.
On our return we brought with us a number of Royal Copenhagen pieces which were adorned with capricious scenes of winter or summer meadows, all interpreted so realistically, and also numerous figurines of animals and fowl, all executed in those soft blue and white colors, some with a touch of brown. Only the hands of Danish artisans could create those heavenly colors.
Once I remember Kaiser Wilhelm II was cruising on his yacht in our vicinity and our ship fired a salute to him. The salute was returned and when the Kaiser came on board our ship, he greeted Father with a kiss and exclaimed, “My most valued friend.” The German band played the Russian national anthem; then the Russian band played the German anthem. During the ensuing visits, the Kaiser took quite a liking to me, calling me “The Little Joker”. I also remember how he danced in a way that Mother thought was undignified and unbecoming to an Emperor. He was one cousin who drove us to despair.
Grandmother Marie joined us in Reval. She brought with her her sister-in-law, Queen Olga of Greece. Queen Olga was the consort of King George I, Grandmother’s brother who was later assassinated. This deed made a fearful impression on us. I remember when Granny cried, “Why do they want to kill an innocent man?” I remember King George as being quite bald, so much so that the Kaiser remarked one time that King George had his own exclusive moon. Extreme baldness seemed to be a feature of the Danish royal family. Kaiser Wilhelm referred to the Danish branch as the “deaf, bald-headed Danes”. King Gustavus V and Queen Victoria of Sweden also paid us a visit. They came on their yacht. We later returned their visit by going to Stockholm.
Quite often our trips were marred by unpleasant incidents, such as the time when, while cruising in Finnish waters, an English freighter persisted in coming too close to our yacht. When our repeated warnings were ignored, we were forced to fire a shot which unfortunately wounded a member of the English freighter’s crew. On this trip we were invited to visit Prince Henry of Prussia (Mother’s brother-in-law) at a beautiful villa on the shore overlooking the sea at Jagernsfeld, so that the Kaiser could show us his fleet at Kiel. Unfortunately the weather prevented us from doing this and after a brief stop we proceeded to England.
A twenty-one gun salute greeted the “Standard” as we entered the English harbor of Cowes on the Isle of Wight. This was returned by the Russian warships and we passed through a cortege of yachts lined up on each side as we sailed down the middle. Soon the “Victoria and Albert” and the “Standard” were alongside each other. Cheers filled the air and salutes were exchanged. Not until the next morning did the real entertainment begin, when King Edward VII appeared on the bridge dressed in the uniform of a Russian admiral. Father stood next to him in the uniform of a British admiral. The Russian and the British flags were flying, as bands played both national anthems. Amidst the greetings and cheers we proceeded aboard the “Victoria and Albert” to the royal pier. We exchanged pleasant visits and many pictures were taken for our albums.
At luncheon on the yacht, we sat at a long table. King Edward sat in the middle, Mother, dressed in white, looking beautiful and radiant sitting beside him. Queen Alexandra was opposite the King with Father next to her. Alexei kept trying to get King Edward’s attention; until finally the King said: “All right, Alexei, what do you want?” Alexei replied gloomily, “It’s too late now, Uncle Bertie; you ate a caterpillar with your salad.” We were served from gold plates and the table decorations were in pink roses.
The other guests at dinner were the Crown Prince of Sweden, the Prince of Wales (later George V), Princess Beatrice, and Princess Irene, wife of Prince Henry of Prussia. Mother gave a dinner on the “Standard” for the ladies in honor of Queen Alexandra. At the many dinners on our yacht, I remember there were many elegant and beautiful ladies, several hundred of them: friends, relatives, English, Swedish, German and Russian. On one occasion King Edward gave a talk thanking us for the visit and turning to my Mother called her his “dear niece”.
There were several excursions, and in the afternoon tea was served on the lawn of the Royal Yacht Club. Several hundred guests were present, mostly relatives and friends. Mother knew them all.
Alexei was accompanied by a playmate. One day we were all whisked to Osborne House, where Princess Henry, Mother’s sister, and Princess Beatrice played with us on the lawn. This included Marie, Alexei, his companion and myself. Alexei was all slicked up from head to toe in a white sailor suit. Both boys behaved disgracefully. In the afternoon before tea, this brother of mine crawled over a new car belonging to one of our relatives and by teatime his white sailor suit was completely wrinkled and disreputable. He refused to leave the car and added, “You girls can go to the tea; I am happy at what I am doing.” All of us were disgusted with our brother. Finally his sailor servant, Derevenko, took him off the car. At tea we frowned at him and motioned with our hands to keep at a distance from us, pretending that he did not belong to our family. Tearfully he added to our embarrassment by saying aloud; “What is the matter with you girls? I do not like your attitude. If I were not ashamed, I would cry.”
At another time Olga and Tatiana had quite an experience. Dressed in their gray suits they walked about the town of Cowes, unattended. They paused in their sightseeing before a window display and entered the shop to purchase postcards and photographs for our albums. As they came out of the shop a carriage bearing Count Benckendorff and a friend stopped on the other side of the street. The girls ran across to surprise them, and surprised they were—to find my sisters unescorted. My sisters became frightened when a large crowd, having heard about our visit, recognized my sisters and gathered around them. Finally the girls made their escape through a store as a constable blocked the door against the pressing crowd. Two carriages were summoned, one for the constable, the other for the girls. At the suggestion of the constable, they finally avoided the crowd by taking refuge in a church. This was their first experience of an unescorted adventure, and their last. When they returned to us, we youngsters kept asking them about it a dozen times, especially when we saw the pictures of the incident in our albums. What a great and priceless triumph it was: that young girls of our position were allowed to show themselves unescorted in public.
Prince David, who was to become King Edward VIII, came by torpedo boat to Osborne House from Dartmouth where he was attending the Royal Naval College. And before we left, he took Father through his college. Father was so impressed with Dartmouth, he talked of sending Alexei there. This was the end of our visit. King Edward, Queen Alexandra, Prince George, then Prince of Wales, and Princess Mary with all their children came to bid us good-bye as we sailed away from Cowes after a most memorable visit.
As usual our party included Princess Obolensky, Mlle. Butsova, a lady-in-waiting, of whom Mother was very fond, as were we all; also Mlle. Tutcheva, our governess, with whom I was continually at swords’ points, because she could not hide her jealousy of Mlle. Butsova, and also because of her derogatory remarks about our English relatives. Present too, were Count Fredericks, Father’s chamberlain, Ambassador Izvolsky, Prince Beloselsky-Belozersky, Dr. Botkin, Dr. Derevenko, Captain Drenteln and many other Russians from our escort ships.
The “Standard” then sailed to Cherbourg, where President Fallières was to meet us in his yacht, the “Marseilles”. During this cruise, as on others, we ran into a great deal of fog and storm and our speed was greatly reduced. We arrived late in Cherbourg. Father reviewed the French fleet with the French President, and we children were allowed to take pictures of submarines which were important exhibits in our albums. These albums and Olga’s description in her diary were a source of great pleasure to us later during the war when we could relive each moment of this pleasurable trip. During our arrest in 1917, these pictures were confiscated.
President Fallières gave a dinner on the deck of a battleship, in honor of my family. It was a beautiful affair. The table was in the shape of a horseshoe. In the center of the table, roses were arranged to form the Russian coat of arms. During the dinner bands played popular compositions of French and Russian composers. Afterwards there were floats on the water, lighting up scenes from the opera Lohengrin and others. Someone must have informed them that Mother loved this opera by Richard Wagner. Launches were made to look like dolphins, sea serpents, Lohengrin’s swan, a huge egg (on top of which was a rooster pulling a gondola with a man inside playing a mandolin), a huge grasshopper and many other fantastic shapes. A float carrying a band of musicians drawn by many make-believe swans ended the procession. There were also beautiful fireworks lasting late into the night. Later a complete movie of the entire display was sent to us; when Alexei was ill, he amused himself by operating the projector with interest.
The next day we all went to the yacht’s chapel for a divine service, and to give thanks for the wonderful trip and our new friends. Later the President brought us gifts. To Alexei he presented miniature rifles, guns and drums, as well as a military tent completely equipped with a miniature cot, table and folding chairs. Alexei was overwhelmed. Afterwards he derived many happy hours in the park playing with his field equipment. It was this little gun that the Bolsheviks seized while he was playing with it in the garden during our arrest in Tsarskoe Selo. Olga received a writing desk set of dark blue enamel, beautifully initialed. Tatiana received a travel clock which she took with her later to Tobolsk. Marie received a dollhouse, two stories high, completely furnished, including a bath tub and electric lighting. I received a beautiful doll with a complete trousseau, even a veil for a bride. A twenty-one-gun salute was fired at our departure from Cherbourg, as at Cowes.
This cruise made me appreciate Olga and Tatiana; they impressed me highly with their graceful manners. I did so wish I could be like them when I grew up. They were so tall and each looked to be every inch a Princess, while it did not seem that I had grown at all during these years. Even Alexei was an inch or more taller than I. Marie too was tall. People said I would be short like my Grandmother. I was tall enough when I sat down, but my limbs were not long enough to suit me. Our Captain had a suggestion, that I hop on one foot, then on the other, three times a day, saying that would produce the desired results. I followed his instructions, even doubled and tripled his recipe, but without success. On a cruise, when I confided to him that his suggestions bore no fruit, he nearly died laughing. I never forgave the Captain for making me feel so ridiculous.
In spite of these several cruises during that summer of 1909, Mother’s health did not improve sufficiently to satisfy the doctors. She suffered from neuralgia. Karlsruhe was recommended, so the family went to Mannheim, to Uncle Ernest’s castle at Friedberg. Princess Louis of Battenberg and her two sons were there too. Then we went to Wolfsgarten near Darmstadt. Darmstadt was Mother’s old home, where as a young lady she lived with her brother Ernest when he became the reigning Grand Duke on the death of his father. Mother was fond of him because he replaced her late parents, and so we were irresistibly drawn to him. Uncle Ernest was handsome, kind, musical and artistic. Mother had the same talents as her brother. His second wife Eleonor (Onor) was a delightful person. She had known Mother since childhood, and their friendship grew stronger each year. This trip therefore was meaningful to our family.
I recall little of our stay. There was a constant flow of Mother’s relatives and hordes of royal children. We four sisters had only one bedroom to ourselves and Father had one small room where he could receive people. I remember Mother’s sister Irene (Amity) and her husband Prince Henry, the Kaiser’s brother. She completely won us over with her tender affection, and referred to us as “the dear children.” She was closer to Mother than were any of Mother’s other sisters. It seemed that we were always being summoned to meet a new cousin, aunt, uncle or a friend. One of the relatives had a homely nose, but fortunately I do not remember who she was.
Father went to Potsdam as guest of the Kaiser and Kaiserin. It gave me a queer feeling when I first realized the Kaiser’s deformity. I remember seeing him ride his horse in his Hussar uniform. He stuck his reins into his belt; with fingers resting partly on his hip he cleverly manipulated the reins. He seemed to lean his weight heavily to one side. Aunt Irene explained to us about his left arm. She said: “When Prince Wilhelm was born, the doctors and his father rejoiced because the child was a boy. But the little infant had not yet shown signs of life. They did everything to get him to breathe. They slapped him, tossed him into the air, swung him by his feet,—there was a full hour of working over him. At last he gave a feeble cry. His mother, ill at the time, did not know of the overly rough treatment of her baby. Later when she found out, she was in despair, she blamed the doctors and the nurses for the injury her child had received. For his left arm, which had been pulled out of the socket, became paralyzed and later shrivelled.”
Many of our relatives were in deep mourning for King Edward VII of England (Uncle Bertie), who had passed away in the spring of 1910. Kaiser Wilhelm had been hunting with Father in the Oranienburg forest near Berlin, and upon their return, in the presence of the widow, Queen Alexandra, and of the new King George V and Queen Mary, he looked at all the ladies in black dresses and white collars and remarked: “Everyone is dressed in black because the old rooster has died.” He knew Queen Alexandra was partly deaf and could not hear his remark; but there were many others who did, including the beautiful Princess Alice and her husband, Prince Andrew of Greece, who had come with Cousin George from England. We all bore disapproving expressions at his remark, and one relative whispered, “Wilhelm must be mad.”
All of the family knew that the Kaiser was tactless. During the time when he was only heir apparent, he never hesitated to express his impatience at having to wait so long to inherit the throne. Long before his grandfather and father died, he wrote the Proclamation, so as to be ready when the occasion should present itself. Aunt Irene and Mother cried when they heard that the young Emperor, Wilhelm II, the day he ascended the throne, ordered everyone in the palace placed under surveillance, including his own mother, the Empress Victoria; this in spite of his having sworn to his father that he would always uphold the honor of the royal house. He despised his courtiers, calling them parasites—the same men who during the war wrested his power and then held him practically under arrest. He hated the sight of his Mother’s friends and ladies-in-waiting and without hesitation he once said that the only joy in his life was being at the Yacht Club. Now he was obviously pleased that Uncle Bertie was no longer in his way. His dislike had begun when Uncle Bertie had called him “the boss of Cowes” and, whenever possible, had avoided holding the regatta when Wilhelm was present. One would not have believed that he had the use of only one arm and with it skillfully steered the sailboat.
Kaiserin Augusta Victoria always looked beautiful with a clear, almost transparent complexion, and was most friendly but quiet. I was intrigued by the black ribbon which she wore around her throat. She and the Kaiser showed us pictures of the palace at Potsdam. It was beautiful except for one room which I thought was in bad taste. This room had ornate pillars encrusted with all kinds of precious and semiprecious stones and odd-shaped shells. I understand that Father had contributed a large uncut diamond to this conglomeration, which also included geological specimens, together with petrified snakes wrapped around the pillars, turtles and crocodiles in creeping or crawling positions.
One day Father went with the Kaiser to the mausoleum and placed a wreath on the tomb of the Emperor Frederick III, the Kaiser’s father. Photographs were taken on this occasion; later, in the bitterness of war, while looking at these pictures, Mother said; “Papa would rather lay a wreath on Wilhelm’s tomb.” We children cut the pictures of the Kaiser out of all our photographs. Alexei tore up his pictures of Germany completely, remarking that he (the Kaiser) did not deserve to be called a godfather, and indignantly tramped the old photographs with his feet. I did the same. After our arrest and imprisonment in Tsarskoe Selo, I purposely broke several gifts from the Kaiser pretending that it was an accident in every case.
Before we departed for home, Father gave the Kaiserin a pendant of pearls and sapphires, which we had previously proudly displayed to our friends for their approval. We liked the Empress and often felt sorry for her because she had to put up with such an intemperate husband. The Kaiserin gave each of us girls a sewing basket complete with all necessary equipment. We used these until 1914, when we gave them away not wanting to see them again. Some of the Kaiser’s sons, resplendent in immaculate uniforms and eagle-crested helmets, escorted us to the station, frequently clicked their heels as they saluted us, making our departure a gala affair. The Kaiserin was forbidden to accompany us to the station. At the time Mother considered this an insult, but a letter from Aunt Eleonor revealed that the Kaiser in a fit of anger had slapped her face that morning before our departure, and each of his five fingers had left an impression on her face.
As we boarded the train, Father was dressed in his civilian overcoat and Alexei wore his customary dark-blue sailor suit, while we sisters wore our traveling suits as it was already cold. On the train, Alexei said: “I was scared of those cousins.” Upon the occasion of that visit to Germany, Father, out of courtesy, appointed the Kaiserin Augusta Victoria honorary colonel-in-chief of the Grodno Hussars. This aroused terrible consternation, especially on the part of Grandmother who was so furious that she cried and carried on bitterly, saying that she hoped she would never see the Kaiserin wearing that uniform. I am sure she never did. En route home Father received word from Aunt Ella that two Russian millionaires whom he knew had committed suicide. This made a sad impression on us children. Later, after we arrived home, Mother received a Christmas gift from the Kaiser, two enormous red enamelled vases. I presume they were made by the royal manufacturers. These vases were placed in a room in our home, one on each side of a console table.
Each member of our family settled into his usual routine of activities. The problem of finding playmates for my brother loomed large again. Derevenko, the sailor, had two sons, both younger than Alexei; they became my brother’s playmates, for which my Mother was bitterly criticized.