For Patricia Clark Smith
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Russia 1914
3 January 1914
4 January 1914
7 January 1914
9 January 1914
10 January 1914
11 January 1914
12 January 1914
14 January 1914
15 January 1914
16/29 January 1914
18/31 January 1914
19 January/1 February 1914
21 January/3 February 1914
23 January/5 February 1914
24 January/6 February 1914
26 January/8 February 1914
28 January/10 February 1914
29 January/11 February 1914
30 January/12 February 1914
1/14 February 1914
2/15 February 1914
3/16 February 1914
4/17 February 1914
5/18 February 1914
6/19 February 1914
8/21 February 1914
9/22 February 1914
10/23 February 1914
13/26 February 1914
14/27 February 1914
16 February/1 March 1914
17 February/2 March 1914
19 February/4 March 1914
21 February/6 March 1914
24 February/9 March 1914
26 February/11 March 1914
7/20 March 1914
9/22 March 1914
12/25 March 1914
15/28 March 1914
16/29 March 1914
18/31 March 1914
19 March/1 April 1914
20 March/2 April 1914
22 March/4 April 1914
24 March/6 April 1914
27 March/9 April 1914
29 March/11 April 1914
30 March/12 April 1914
31 March/13 April 1914
1/14 April 1914
3/16 April 1914
Easter Day 1914
7/20 April 1914
9/22 April 1914
12/25 April 1914
17/30 April 1914
19 April/2 May 1914
23 April/6 May 1914
28 April/11 May 1914
2/15 May 1914
6/19 May 1914
7/20 May 1914
13/26 May 1914
16/29 May 1914
19 May/1 June 1914
20 May/2 June 1914
24 May/6 June 1914
25 May/7 June 1914
26 May/8 June 1914
29 May/11 June 1914
30 May/12 June 1914
31 May/13 June 1914
1/14 June 1914
2/15 June 1914
4/17 June 1914
5/18 June 1914
6/19 June 1914
8/21 June 1914
12/25 June 1914
14/27 June 1914
15/28 June 1914
16/29 June 1914
17/30 June 1914
18 June/1 July 1914
20 June/3 July 1914
23 June/6 July 1914
26 June/9 July 1914
30 June/13 July 1914
3/16 July 1914
6/19 July 1914
15/28 July 1914
16/29 July 1914
19 July/1 August 1914
20 July/2 August 1914
30 July/12 August 1914
1/14 August 1914
4/17 August 1914
5/18 August 1914
9/22 August 1914
13/26 August 1914
23 August/5 September 1914
24 August/6 September 1914
28 August/10 September 1914
30 August/12 September 1914
1/14 September 1914
6/19 September 1914
22 September/5 October 1914
27 September/10 October 1914
30 September/13 October 1914
7/20 October 1914
15/28 October 1914
30 October/12 November 1914
3/16 November 1914
5/18 November 1914
8/21 November 1914
10/23 November 1914
28 November/11 December 1914
20 December 1914/2 January 1915
Christmas Eve 1914
Christmas 1914
28 December 1914/10 January 1915
2/15 January 1915
4/17 January 1915
10/23 January 1915
24 January/6 February 1915
25 January/7 February 1915
3/16 February 1915
5/18 February 1915
13/26 February 1915
18 February/3 March 1915
21 February/6 March 1915
23 February/8 March 1915
25 February/10 March 1915
3/16 March 1915
6/19 March 1915
8/21 March 1915
15/28 March 1915
22 March/4 April 1915
30 March/12 April 1915
5/18 April 1915
20 April/3 May 1915
6/19 May 1915
21 May/3 June 1915
23 May/5 June 1915
29 May/11 June 1915
5/18 June 1915
14/27 June 1915
26 June/9 July 1915
4/17 July 1915
23 July/5 August 1915
30 July/12 August 1915
8/21 August 1915
16/29 August 1915
10/23 September 1915
26 September/9 October 1915
1/14 October 1915
25 October/7 November 1915
14/27 November 1915
19 November/2 December 1915
4/17 December 1915
6/19 December 1915
7/20 December 1915
9/22 December 1915
12/25 December 1915
19 December 1915/1 January 1916
25 December 1915/7 January 1916
29 December 1915/11 January 1916
2/15 January 1916
22 January/4 February 1916
27 January/9 February 1916
31 January/13 February 1916
3/16 February 1916
8/21 February 1916
15/28 February 1916
24 February/8 March 1916
26 February/10 March 1916
13/26 March 1916
19 March/1 April 1916
2/15 April 1916
10/23 April 1916
20 April/3 May 1916
4/17 May 1916
7/20 May 1916
14/27 May 1916
21 May/3 June 1916
28 May/10 June 1916
5/18 June 1916
20 June/3 July 1916
2/15 July 1916
30 July/12 August 1916
12/25 September 1916
17/30 October 1916
21 October/3 November 1916
27 October/9 November 1916
2/15 November 1916
23 November/6 December 1916
24 November/7 December 1916
5/18 December 1916
8/21 December 1916
9/22 December 1916
18/31 December
1916
19 December 1916/1 January 1917
21 December 1916/3 January 1917
24 December 1916/6 January 1917
28 December 1916/10 January 1917
19 January/1 February 1917
4/17 February 1917
9/22 February 1917
17 February/2 March 1917
25 February/10 March 1917
1/14 March 1917
3/16 March 1917
4/17 March 1917
5/18 March 1917
8/21 March 1917
9/22 March 1917
11/24 March 1917
18/31 March 1917
21 March/3 April 1917
22 March/4 April 1917
24 March/6 April 1917
25 March/7 April 1917
28 March/10 April 1917
2/15 April 1917
4/17 April 1917
14/27 April 1917
21 April/4 May 1917
5/18 May 1917
22 May/4 June 1917
29 May/11 June 1917
1/14 June 1917
5/18 June 1917
17/30 June 1917
29 June/12 July 1917
7/20 July 1917
11/24 July 1917
30 July/12 August 1917
31 July/13 August 1917
3/16 August 1917
5/18 August 1917
15/28 August 1917
21 August/3 September 1917
10/23 September 1917
21 September/4 October 1917
27 September/10 October 1917
9/22 October 1917
2/15 November 1917
3/16 November 1917
24 November/7 December 1917
26 November/9 December 1917
30 November/13 December 1917
1/14 December 1917
25 December 1917/7 January 1918
8/21 January 1918
20 January/2 February 1918
30 January/12 February 1918
12/25 February 1918
22 February/7 March 1918
4/17 March 1918
6/19 March 1918
12/25 March 1918
17/30 March 1918
22 March/4 April 1918
3/16 April 1918
9/22 April 1918
12/25 April 1918
13/26 April 1918
17/30 April 1918
22 April/5 May 1918
23 April/6 May 1918
26 April/9 May 1918
28 April/11 May 1918
6/19 May 1918
Epilogue
Life in Russia in 1914
Historical Note
The Romanov Family Tree
About the Russian Language
About the Russian Calendar
Glossary of Characters
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Copyright
3 January 1914
Tsarskoe Selo
Well, that’s over, and I’m glad of it. I hate dancing. I’d rather climb trees any day! My feet still hurt — especially the toe that clumsy Lieutenant Boris stepped on while he was trying to waltz. What an oaf.
Hundreds of people attended the ball — all the court society of St. Petersburg, Papa says. If you piled all their jewels in a heap, they would weigh at least a ton.
Mama had a headache and left before midnight. Our little brother, Alexei, is feverish again, and Mama wanted to be at home with him. I wish I could have gone with her, but that would have upset Grandmother. She is already annoyed at Mama, I think.
Grandmother gave us each a diary as a keepsake of the ball. Olga and Tatiana and Mashka (that’s what we call our Marie) have begun pasting things in theirs — the invitation, the menu for the midnight supper, the program of music played by the orchestra, and my sisters’ dance cards signed by the officers who danced with them. (I did not collect my dancing partners’ signatures.)
It was very late when Papa had the sleigh drive us from Anitchkov Palace to board our train for the ride back to Tsarskoe Selo. He sipped tea while my sisters chattered all the way home. I could hardly keep my eyes open but pretended to be wide awake.
4 January 1914
Ts. S.
I’ve decided to write a play about the ball. I’m calling it The OTMA Snow Ball: A Jest in One Act.
OTMA is the name we made up with the initials of our first names — Olga, Tatiana, Marie, and Anastasia. That’s me, trailing along at the end, the youngest, the last of the Romanov sisters. Papa calls me Shvibzik: “Imp.”
When I told my sisters about my play, Mashka said, “What a good idea! We can perform it for Mama.”
Olga added with that worried look of hers, “Promise you will make it nice, Anastasia?”
I promised I would.
The Main Characters:
GRANDMOTHER — also known as the dowager empress, wearing her diamond tiara and white brocade gown
PAPA — also known as NICHOLAS ALEXANDROVICH ROMANOV, TSAR OF ALL THE RUSSIAS, in military dress uniform, with lots of ribbons and medals
THE GRAND DUCHESSES — OTMA
OFFICERS from the yacht Standart
The Scene: Grand Ballroom of Anitchkov Palace (actually our library)
The Grand Duchesses enter. They are dressed in matching gowns of white silk embroidered all over with pearls and crystal beads, and satin slippers.
My slippers pinched, but at least I didn’t have to wear a corset. This is because I don’t have a “figure,” as Olga calls it. She’s eighteen and has one. So does Tatiana, who’s sixteen, and Mashka, who’s fourteen. I’m twelve and haven’t yet gotten a bosom. When I say “bosom,” my sisters are shocked.
“Say ‘figure,’ Anastasia,” Olga corrects me. “Proper ladies don’t speak of . . . of bosoms.” She blushes when she says it.
“But I’m not a proper lady,” I remind her. “I’m a shvibzik.”
7 January 1914
Well, we did it. Mama’s friend Anya Vyrubova came to our rooms after supper. And we rounded up Dr. Botkin and his son, Gleb, and Baroness Buxhoeveden and as many of Mama’s ladies-in-waiting and Papa’s gentlemen as could be found to make up the audience. There was no one to play the role of the Dowager Empress, of course, and so we put one of Mama’s tiaras on an embroidered cushion on a gilt chair and pretended that was Grandmother.
Papa put on his white dress hat with a gold braid. First he bowed to Olga, and she curtsied, and then they danced while he whistled a waltz. Papa is the best whistler! Next it was Tatiana’s turn, and then Mashka’s.
I would have been next, but I decided not to play myself in this production. Instead, I borrowed a pair of tall black boots and a white jacket from one of the servants and took the role of Lieutenant Boris. Shura, my nurse-governess, painted a huge black mustache on my lip. Alexei made me a cocked hat of folded paper. Then I ordered my sisters to dance with me while I pretended to stomp all over their feet. (Mashka said I didn’t pretend enough, and that I really did step on hers. But it was truly not on purpose.)
It ended badly, because Alexei insisted that he was going to dance “like Lieutenant Boris,” and he got rowdy and crashed into Mama’s table. Now we’re afraid he’ll get one of those terrible bruises and be ill again.
9 January 1914
Faugh! I detest schoolwork! Monsieur Gilliard, our French tutor, says that my efforts “lack inspiration.” What he means is, I am lazy. We’ve been working on the pluperfect tense, and what could be inspirational about that? I was supposed to write my sentences ten times each, but I “forgot” a few of them and instead drew a border of flowers around the paper. M. Gilliard says that my flowers don’t make up for lack of inspiration.
10 J
anuary 1914
Just as I feared, Alexei is in bed again, his knee swollen up like a cabbage and paining him horribly. When Alexei is not well, our whole family suffers with him. We take turns sitting by his bed and reading to him.
The servants tiptoe in and out, asking in whispers, “How is the tsarevitch?” And Mama always gives the report, “He seems a little better today, thanks be to God.” Or, “He needs our prayers. Don’t forget him!”
Of course everyone in the palace prays for Alexei, because he is the tsarevitch, the son of the tsar, and will be the next tsar of Russia, after Papa. No one must know that he’s so ill. “It would alarm the people,” Mama and Papa tell us.
Alexei is a bleeder. That means he suffers from a disease called hemophilia. (I probably didn’t spell that right. Mr. Gibbes, my English tutor, complains that I’m a dreadful speller.) However it’s spelled, it means that if my brother hurts himself, there’s no way to stop the bleeding. A small cut on the skin isn’t so bad. But if he injures a joint, or if something happens to make him bleed inside his body, then the blood is trapped. His joint swells up and hurts him, and he cries awfully. Then Mama turns pale and presses her lips together and begs us all to pray.
There is no cure for this disease, and nobody knows what to do, not Dr. Botkin, who checks all of us every day for signs of rashes and sore throats and such, nor Dr. Derevenko, Alexei’s special doctor.
The only one who can help Alexei is Father Grigory, the holy man who is Mama’s friend. Mama sent a message to Father Grigory to come.
Later
Alexei is much better. He always gets better when Father Grigory prays over him.
11 January 1914
A sunny day, but so cold, it makes my teeth hurt. Just as we finished our morning lessons, Papa came out of his study, where he had been working since breakfast, and announced that we must go ice-skating. My sisters and I dressed in our warmest woolen skirts and thick stockings and fur jackets and ran outside with Papa. Alexei couldn’t go, but he waved to us from his window on the second floor in the south wing of the palace.
We ran to the lake in the middle of the imperial park, where the servants built a roaring fire near the warming hut. As soon as we’d strapped on our skates, Papa got us playing crack-the-whip. I challenged Mashka to a race and won. I couldn’t beat Tatiana, because she’s the tallest and her legs longest, but when I grow more I’ll beat her with no trouble.
Papa stopped us often to make sure our noses were not getting frostbitten. “Keep moving! Keep moving, my dears!” he called out, but we didn’t need this advice, because to stand still in such weather is to freeze solid as an ice statue.