Chapter XIV: Part V: Ekaterinburg (2)

There were also letters purportedly in Mother’s handwriting but which she did not write. Voykov said: “You thought Anna, Yaroshinsky, Markov and Soloviev were your friends. We have photostatic records of all the letters and activities in Tobolsk.” Father glanced at the photostatic copies, recognized Mother’s and Anna’s handwriting. His face turned white and the “Otsu mark” on his forehead became red.

To explain this “Otsu mark”: Before his marriage, Father had made a tour around the world and, on the last lap of his journey, while in Japan, the Emperor invited him to visit a temple where no Christian had ever set foot before. Father rode in a ricksha, followed by Prince George of Greece and many other rickshas. The road was lined on both sides by the police. At the end of the line the last policeman struck Father with his sabre on the head close to the hair line. Father was saved by his hat, and the second blow cut his arm with which he covered his face. At this moment Father jumped down and ran into a store blinded with blood, still followed by the madman. Then Father ran out of the store pursued by the would-be killer. At this moment Prince George overtook the latter and knocked him down with his cane. The police became confused and clashed sabres among themselves. Fortunately the examination by his private physician showed that the wound was not serious, but it left Father suffering from frequent headaches and with a permanent scar. The family called it the “Otsu scar” or “Otsu mark”.

We two younger sisters also knew Yaroshinsky. He was a rich banker and during the war, he financed Marie’s and my hospital in Tsarskoe Selo. Once he told Marie and me, while at the hospital office, that he had come to Russia with his poverty stricken Polish parents to work in the mines. Marie remarked later, “But where did he get all the money?” However, the conversation had come to an end.

Mother warned Anna to be careful about whom she was sending to Tobolsk. Moreover, she warned her to destroy all our letters and not to involve people not known to us. Anna failed to heed those warnings and in the end Mother died with a feeling of bitterness toward her well-meaning but careless friend. We knew Anna did not do it intentionally but from stupidity.

Yurovsky was right. We had been betrayed. Poor Father had had no part in it. It was clear to us then that the leaders in Moscow knew of Father’s firmness, but Yakovlev, who was in charge of Father on the train, felt that if Father came to Moscow, he might be persuaded to compromise with the leaders--Mirbach, Ludendorff, Lenin, Kamenev and Trotsky. My Father never would have done anything to harm his people. Father made Yakovlev understand that he could expect no appeasement from him; that he would rather have his right hand cut off than sign anything that would harm Russia. He also told Yakovlev that he was prepared to sacrifice his life for his country. Yakovlev, Father said, had telephoned Moscow of Father’s stubbornness. They knew that Father was dangerous to them and that his people wanted to have their Emperor back on the throne. They decided that Father’s presence would ruin their negotiations and that the best thing to do would be to keep him in Ekaterinburg. Yakovlev however had disobeyed the orders from Moscow and kept the train that carried Father shuttling back and forth for four days till they were finally detained in Ekaterinburg. Yakovlev had given Father to understand that he himself was against the foreign invaders and the traitors.

The Emperor and his family were clearly not their own masters--they belonged to Russia. He was the father of all Russia and the children were the children of Russia. He tried to impress his family to be simple and not to show importance and conceit, but to be humble and kind toward the people and serve them in good faith.

It was decay and disunity that poisoned and divided the people from the Emperor and split the Imperial family into factions. It was not a cyclone that ripped apart and ravaged the Empire, but a disaster and robbery planned from abroad years before by insidious men, and when the first opportunity presented itself, they struck a deadly blow to this great Slavic Empire. How many other great ancient empires suffered the same fate--Egypt, Babylon, Persia, Rome, and others. It was an epoch of short-sightedness on the part of the people who were not able to see with their own eyes what the Emperor and Empress saw, and failed to recognize the accomplishments they had achieved for Russia. But they looked blindly in trust to the very ones who were murdering their country before their very eyes.

It was hard for the Emperor and his family to die, but it was even harder for him to die with the knowledge that his death was also the death of Russia. He could have saved himself and his family by signing the disastrous treaty of Brest-Litovsk, but not he; he could not do this to his country, the land he loved beyond all measure. He would not do it, even in the moment of the greatest personal danger. He never broke his fidelity to the oath that he took on the day of his coronation, and he carried this heavy load on his shoulders, courageously and uncomplainingly, for more than twenty-two years. Many people do not see or do not want to see the full extent of those demoniacal days; neither do they see the grandeur of the deeds performed by this great man, the Emperor Nicholas II.

Many thought that the Emperor was not powerful enough to bear the Russian crown. The world did not realize the strength it took to carry this burden of representing innumerable races. That alone would have broken the stamina of any ordinary man. The Emperor was made a constant victim, but the strength, loyalty, and superhuman power which made up this man, in contrast, were lacking in his contemporaries.

Those who really knew Father would readily admit that his predominant characteristics were fearlessness, kindness, honesty, loyalty and firmness. When he knew he was right, he stood by his convictions. He was often called the “Stubborn Tsar.” He disliked gossip and idleness and refused to listen to those who warned him against his enemies and spies.

An officer who later helped me escape from Russia told me the names of several officers who were involved in actions against Father. There were some good names; one was the son of a high Finnish statesman appointed to his position by Father. The son was an officer and was a coward; he feared being wounded. He received money from the Germans to help in the attack against my Father.

I knew Father for seventeen years of my life, especially closely during our imprisonment, when we were together almost every minute of the day. His refusal to save himself and his family at the expense of Russia should be proof enough of his strength and character. When Moscow pressured him, Father with deep emotion said, “My family and I will never agree to what they ask me to do, no matter what happens. Anything they have to say, they should say to me and leave my family out of it. They have taken everything away from them, their youth and freedom, but none of them will yield to German spies and convicts who do not represent Russia, and will never forsake the Russian people.” Father suspected the final outcome. He knew Moscow’s intentions of discrediting him before his people, but he stood firm in his refusal. Even in the hour of danger, he respected his high morals and obligations. Most of the conversation was conducted through Dr. Botkin. Father seldom came in contact with these men. It may have been during these conversations that Dr. Botkin said to Father, “When I needed your help you were very kind to me, and I have made my mind up never to leave you as long as I am needed.”

Now all the hope of freedom vanished, and I often in despair pressed my body against the damp wall that held us prisoners, wondering if ever we would see the sunshine break through this wall again.

XXVI FEAR AND DREAD

After the incident with Yurovsky over the intercepted letters, almost overnight Mother’s hair turned white. She became weak and could hardly walk without leaning on someone’s arm. Even when prayer bolstered her spirit, her hands shook and her voice faded into a whisper. For one month she suffered untold agony, refusing to believe that we had been betrayed. Yet she said, “It is God’s Will.” In these words we could sense her craving for the Holy Communion which brought her the calmness of God’s spirit. Father would look at her and turn his face aside so that his falling tears would not be seen. It was his quiet way of bearing himself that carried along the rest of us. He dropped his head, but not for long. Once more he would hold himself erect, determined to look beyond these cruel conditions to the time when Russia would once more believe in him and repent. For each other’s sake we tried again and went through each day with renewed faith in God and hope for the morrow.

Here we never went out to Church. The priest came to us only twice. Whatever services we had, we held them ourselves. Mother read aloud from the Bible; the rest of us chanted the prayers. We had our own service every day. The comfort of the homemade service lifted us all and gave us satisfaction. Morning, noon and evening we refreshed our faith in God. Religion was our nourishment, especially to Mother. There is no book as precious as the Bible and nothing will ever be able to take its place. It is the Word of God and will never die. Even the hovering guards listened in quiet, their heads bowed. We were astonished.

At last the hard shell of the guards began to crack and out of the cracks oozed a crude shame. In their rough way they tried to atone for their treatment of us. They extended pity when all we wanted was to be left alone. They even gave us some of that by lessening their intrusion into our privacy. Mother called it victory--an answer to our prayers. But when it was discovered that they were becoming lenient, they were, much to our sorrow, promptly removed. The last part of June or the beginning of July they were replaced by the toughest, lowest crew imaginable. These men were beasts. We tried submissiveness, courtesy, but to no avail. When they saw the comfort we derived from our daily services they took away our Bible. But they could not take away our faith. Mother said, “This is another test. Is there not enough of Christ in us to do without the Bible?” But Mother was more shaken than I had ever seen her as she said this. Father looked at the guards and accepted the humiliation.

The men were so unshakeable and cruel. Now we no longer saw or heard them. Their inhuman treatment had built a wall around us, a wall of fear, hard and dark on the outside, soft and mystical inside. We became a world apart, detached from mundane things. Our bodies touched the ground, but our souls were far above in God’s world. Each day of persecution lifted us higher. We were helping Christ to carry His burden. We were marked to suffer, for Russia.

In our last days our privacy was so uncertain we never wholly undressed. The men were there with a repulsive curiosity. Instinctively we drew our skirts aside as one draws away from vermin. The new guards were not Russian at all. We heard every kind of language: Polish, Latvian, Hungarian, German and Yiddish. In the dining room, carelessly thrown on the table, we saw German newspapers which we did not touch. The guards were ready for any trouble, their expressions were filled with accusations.

Yurovsky took a fiendish delight in drawing the family into conversation. The evil in his soul came through, to scar his face. We wanted to hold ourselves aloof but we did not wish to anger him. His mouth was always full of saliva and every time he spoke we feared it would fly out at us. Yurovsky, Sverdlov, Goloshchekin and Medvediev with four Letts and Hungarians searched the entire house. They pulled out all our suitcases, books and pictures and examined every nook and corner, and by the time they were through searching, the house was in complete disorder.

Father read a great deal in order to get his mind off the humiliating surroundings. He wondered if we could memorize such and such a passage, hoping thereby to relieve our nervous tension. He still believed that the fate of our family and Russia was in God’s hands. His belief was a great comfort to us, and helped to carry us through the dark nights. At length our Bible was returned to us.

Yurovsky came into our quarters one day with a cigarette in his mouth. As he stood in front of us, he pulled out a match from his pocket, struck it on the sole of his shoe and lighted the cigarette. It was not hard to recognize it as one of Father’s gold-tipped, Russian double-eagle cigarettes. These cigarettes were made especially for Father by Benson and Hedges with his name on them, but Father had not used many of these during the war. Yurovsky wanted Father to see him smoke this long, slender aristocrat of cigarettes, hoping to hurt his feelings. When he finished smoking he left the gold-tipped butt on the ashtray for us to see. We girls also noticed he wore some of Father’s clothes, probably taken from the trunks in the attic. His appearance was always untidy, no matter what he wore, and his shirt was always open at the neck. From his bushy, black eyebrows he looked out sideways, never straight into one’s eyes.

To our horror we were not allowed to lock our bathroom door, so we went in pairs to wash, one of us always stood near the door for fear that someone might walk in. Near the bathroom there was a stairway leading downstairs, at the head of which there stood a guard, all eyes. One day while Marie and I were crossing the hall, I noticed something shining on the floor and picked it up. It was a key with the inscription, “Made in U.S.A.” We wondered if there were an American in the house, perhaps for the purpose of saving us. Mother thought she had heard some one talking in English, but she was not sure.

Yurovsky was an assumed name. He and many others had changed their names so as to attribute their crimes to the Russian people. There is no doubt that many Russians were involved in crime but when the character of the revolution was revealed and much Russian blood had been spilled, then it was too late for those who supported the revolutionists to repent. The revolution was a foreign importation of Lenin and Trotsky--it destroyed the soul of Russia. They attacked the churches and smeared the altars with human blood, those altars that had stood there since Byzantine times. This beautiful religion, “The Eastern Church”, our forefathers had adopted while persecution of the Christians was still practiced.

Many of those of varying backgrounds who took a leading part in the revolutionary movement in Russia were poisoned by German propaganda. Germany, I have heard, spent many tens of millions of dollars of Russian money to promote the Revolution; this money was made available to them for the care of the Russian prisoners of war. Instead they used the money to overthrow Imperial Russia, while our warriors were starving in dirty barracks.

Father was accused of being instrumental in the Jewish pogrom in the Ukraine. The fact is Father did not know about it at all until one of the Grand Dukes, while on his way to the Crimea, heard of it and telephoned Father. Immediately the Preobrazhensky regiment was dispatched by special train, and other military forces and police were sent from Bendery to quell these riots. Jews were not the only casualties of these disturbances. Other nationalities such as Bulgarians were taken for Jews, and some were killed. The pogrom was touched off by the following incident. A small boy was seized allegedly by Jews. A Jewish sect at that time, in its ritual, believed in sacrificing a Christian and taking his blood. For this purpose they took the boy who was without stain. The veins on the boy’s body were cut in many places from which blood was taken. From this torture he died. When the boy was not found someone reported hearing a scream. A storekeeper placed the boy into a nail barrel and carted it away to a field. There he was found dead with bloody nails imbedded in his body. The barrel was traced to the storekeeper. The discovery of the crime marked the start of the pogrom. This incident was told to us children by our friend Dr. Vatrik, the famous surgeon who came occasionally to the palace to care for Alexei during his illness. According to another account the boy was not seized by Jews, but by one of his relatives.

The Imperial family never hated the Jews. Jews were received in all military hospitals with the same care as any other men during the war. Many Jews fought heroically for Russia and died on the battlefield. But many did everything possible to escape being taken into the army, by crossing the border to the Austrian and German side, where they were placed over Russian prisoners of war and caused them untold suffering. Father did more for the Jews than any Emperor before him. My parents always advocated the principle of freedom of religion.

Count Benckendorff and several others connected closely with my family from the time of Grandfather’s reign were Roman Catholics.

A new commissar arrived from Moscow, and Father was questioned several times in the next few days. The Commissar hinted at the possibility of freedom to leave the country, if Father would consider signing certain documents. Father vehemently rejected having anything to do with Moscow. He made it clear that he had nothing more to say.

Father once asked us, after he returned from one of these talks, if we children would accept freedom in Germany or stay and suffer. We all agreed to stay in our country. He seemed pleased at this mutual feeling. Soon afterwards new guards arrived and our situation became worse, almost unbearable. These heartless men made us understand that their duty was to cause us every kind of humiliation and deprivation.

One afternoon Voykov came and demanded to see our jewels. They searched the house many times. Finally he picked Mother’s engagement ring--a large ruby of a beautiful color, actually a red diamond, probably the only one of its kind in the world. When Father was about eighteen years old, various jewelers in St. Petersburg began to search for rare stones. Bolin, the well-known jeweler, found this diamond and Father purchased it from him to be made into an engagement ring for his future bride. Voykov took this ring as a souvenir, he said, and wore it on his little finger. Father could do nothing but forget the loss. Voykov was still wearing the ring when we saw him again a few days before the tragedy.

On another day, this man again came into our living room without warning and began a long discourse about Ulianov (Lenin) and Pilsudski. He claimed that these two would soon be regarded as the world’s greatest men. Father made no reply but picked up a book and began to read. When Voykov continued his assertions, Father agreed with him saying that no doubt what he said was true.

XXVII OUR FINAL DECISION

On Saturday, July 13th, 1918 (new style), we made our final decision, after Father was questioned for the last time. Now Yurovsky and Voykov pretended to have a special interest in Alexei. We feared they might take him to Moscow, so that Father would be forced to yield to their demands. Father said they would have to kill him first before they could touch any of his children. They knew that Father meant every word of it. Those heartless men got into Alexei’s room, sat on his bed and watched him cut out his soldiers. They kept up a rapid-fire conversation, even though Alexei was annoyed. We wondered if they were trying to gain my brother’s confidence in order to poison him. So we warned Alexei not to eat anything they might give him.

Yurovsky, unlike other Commissars, constantly followed us. We were conscious of his presence and could not ignore him. He was surrounded with guards mostly of foreign origin whose breath reeked with alcohol, though he himself did not appear to take any. He told Dr. Botkin he had had pneumonia a year before and since then his doctor forbade the use of alcohol. We felt that the new guards were dangerous men.

One of them, a German or Austrian, whose name was Mebus or Nebus, said he was sent by Trotsky to search the house. He must see everything of value. He rifled through every drawer, suitcase, bed and mattress and cushion. Among the medicine bottles they found one bottle with Persian grey powder. They took the bottle, saying that it was dynamite. Dr. Botkin was present when they sent this dangerous explosive to be analyzed outside, in spite of his explanation that it was a powder prescribed for Mother to be used in a vaporizer for her sinus trouble. Shortly thereafter it was returned, having been found by the chemists to be a harmless powder.

After his initial haul, Mebus returned, saying he had been searching in the bathroom, and announced that he had found some bullets wrapped in a woman’s garment, also some guns hidden under something, God knows where. We saw that the garment in question was a blouse belonging to one of us sisters, probably taken from the trunks in the attic, but we had not seen these trunks nor the garment since we left Tobolsk. The keys of these trunks and our money had been entrusted to General Tatishchev, but upon our arrival in Ekaterinburg we were separated from him. The Commissars probably confiscated the General’s belongings and thus found the keys, which they must have recognized as ours by special markings upon them.

We did not know where the entrance to this attic was. As to the blouse, it was originally sent to us in Tobolsk by Anna Vyrubova. Nebus or Mebus came in with the blouse, accompanied by a Commissar named Horwath, a Hungarian, and by four or five others who spoke German. When we heard them saying “Kishason” (lady), we knew they were Hungarians. One of these men wore an open shirt, and from his neck hung a black cord, a cross and a small square bag of soiled white cloth with something in it.

Thousands of these prisoners of war had willingly joined the Cheka, some for political reasons, others for religious reasons--or lack of them--and still others for loot. Horwath’s companions also included two Jews named Beloborodov and Goloshchekin (they had adopted these names). They fixed their eyes on our icons with a remark to which we did not reply.

That same afternoon Yurovsky, Beloborodov, Goloshchekin and Horwath walked through our rooms, demanding that we place all our jewels on the table. At this time we wore only our gold baptismal crosses and silver rings with an inscription “Save and Protect us”. We were afraid not to expose everything, especially with eyes fastened on us girls so suspiciously. They made no effort to examine our travelling clothes and for that we were thankful. They took everything they saw. Yurovsky with the help of others made a list of every item, then gave Father a copy--a scrap of paper--as a receipt, signed by all four thieves. He asked Father to value each item. Father said, “They have great sentimental value to us, since many of them are gifts from my wife’s family and her grandmother--Queen Victoria--and from myself.” Yurovsky asked: “But how much would such a piece cost if purchased today?” Father answered, “I am not a jeweler by trade, I cannot put a value on them.” Their grasping hands trembled when they took our treasures and placed them between layers in a cushioned bag. Later by searching the dining room and among the household things they found some gold-coated candles. They became suspicious and melted some but, to their disappointment, found nothing in them. The clinking of glasses in the office that evening kept us awake until long past midnight. No doubt the jewels were disposed of before our eyes were closed. These stolen and now blood-stained treasures were sold in foreign lands and are no doubt now adorning various ladies in many countries.

Early in the evening of this Saturday, Yurovsky stood excitedly at the door of our parents’ bedroom and said, “Nicholai Alexandrovich, your request is granted. The priest will be here tomorrow to conduct Sunday services.” The same evening we gathered some icons and, with the help of Father’s valet, a table was prepared in the middle of the rear wall and covered with a long white towel. We got everything ready for the next morning and prayed that there would be no unpleasantness between these godless men and the priest.

Sunday morning, July 14th, arrived and as we assembled in our room, Yurovsky came in and asked if we were ready. “Right, we are,” said Father. One of us sisters wheeled Alexei’s chair into the room. He gazed happily around with a greeting to the little group of a few friends who waited for us to enter the big room. However, a mistake had been made in this service. In his note to Yurovsky, Father had requested a service called “Obiednya” at which Communion is administered. We were all surprised to find that “Obiednitsa” was being conducted at which no Communion is administered. It is a service that is held for the dead.

Father asked Dr. Botkin to check with Yurovsky, because he had requested a Communion. Yurovsky motioned to the priest, saying, “A Communion is requested.” Evidently Yurovsky knew that the service for the dead was meant for our own funeral service. No doubt Father must have known that the tragedy was near because he requested the Communion. While the priest made his preparations and covered the wine chalice with a fine embroidered cloth, Yurovsky made an attempt to take the chalice from him to see what was in it. Father Storozhev jerked the chalice away and in a trembling voice shouted, “I will not let you touch this Holy Sacrament with your hands.” The priest stood some distance from us, since we were not permitted to have confession in the usual way. He raised the cross and said, “God shall forgive your sins.” We went to our knees in tears as Yurovsky stood aside watching us. We sisters were weeping throughout the entire service, and, as our hearts were only human, we could not chant during this service. We arose; the priest held the cloth over the chalice and administered the Holy Communion to us, while the deacon sang the creed.

Father Storozhev had brought the usual _prosphora_--the small biscuit which is given to each communicant--but Yurovsky insisted on breaking each of these into pieces to make sure there was nothing hidden in them. Dr. Botkin and others who until now had maintained their composure broke down. A napkin was brought and the _prosphora_ was broken into pieces by the priest, and the service was concluded. In this dimly-lighted room a rite so divine and profound in our moment of solitude gave us a secret hope in our hearts. After the service Father kissed on both cheeks, according to Russian custom, the few remaining friends--Dr. Botkin, Trup, Kharitonov and the little Leonid. Mother and we sisters kissed Anna Demidova, our faithful maid.

Mother gave her hand to Dr. Botkin; he bowed and kissed her fingertips. All noticed that on his face was a strange expression. He was nervous after hearing the prophetic words being sung “Peace to the Soul.” He kissed us children on both cheeks, while tears fell from his eyes and remained between his glasses and the bags beneath his eyes.

Dear Papula, how he suffered beyond measure for his loyalty to us. His face always brightened whenever he saw me. I always engaged him in a conversation. Somehow he felt closer to Alexei and to me than to our sisters. At the end this good man became bold, in spite of his frailty. He was somewhat older than my Father. At that time Father was fifty years old and Mother forty-six. There was a unity and peace among us. Father said, without bitterness, “A great crime is being committed, but I feel we have been true to ourselves and to Russia. The Russian people have been betrayed.” Olga, who could say things so beautifully, added from her tender heart, “The Russian people have been hypnotized and one must not judge them by the present. They are good people.” Dr. Botkin added, “Be true, do not fear, in a minute all will pass.” We were startled at his words, and we wondered afterwards whether he realized the full meaning of what he was saying. He must have known of our destiny.

In spite of the hostile actions of Yurovsky and his accomplices throughout Father Storozhev’s service, we felt we had been enfolded by God and filled with power to ignore the brutality of the guards. When they came into the sitting room while Father was reading aloud, one of us stood up, so that they might see as little as possible.

On Monday, July 15th two maids came to clean the rooms as usual. Obviously they were frightened and seemed anxious to deliver some message to us, but the guards’ presence everywhere prevented any communication. On the same day, Yurovsky brought his associates to the house. These included Voykov, Goloshchekin and Jacob Sverdlov who were comrades of Lenin, Trotsky, and other international conspirators. We saw these four and others in the house all day long; they followed us even into the garden, when we went out for a fifteen minute walk in the afternoon. Once Sverdlov said to Father that when the festivities of the Three Hundred Year rule of the Romanov Dynasty were celebrated in 1913, he was ready to blow up the whole Imperial family with a bomb. Father replied, “What kept you from doing it? I probably would not be here today nor would my family be.”

On Tuesday July the 16th, the young kitchen boy, Leonid, who used to come to play with Alexei for an hour every day, had no sooner arrived than a guard announced that Leonid’s uncle, Ivan Sidniev (our former footman) had come to see the boy. The little fellow jumped to his feet and happily said, “Oh, please forgive me, I shall be back.” We knew right then, it was some sort of trick. When he did not return and Father inquired why, he was told, “Tomorrow he will come.”

On the 16th also, Alexei got up, though his cold was worse, due to the hot water treatments for his swollen hands and feet which were still partially paralyzed. In the afternoon, we took him into the small garden where he was able to walk a little, but had to be carried down the steps. We all went out except Marie, who remained with Mother who had not been out for several days.

While we were in the garden a pigeon flew toward the porch, frantically flapping its wings. Then it flew to the other side of the house, where we were not allowed to walk. Upon our return Mother to our surprise told us that a bird flapped its wings on her bedroom window and she could see only a fluttering shadow of a bird’s wings in the window glass which was painted white. Then she said, “At the coronation we were presented with two birds; and, as you remember, during the Three Hundredth Anniversary a pigeon flew inside the Cathedral when the service was held; and today a bird came into the picture again.”

Some time before the tragedy Dr. Botkin was sent by Yurovsky to ask Mother if she wished her sister Ella to come to see her and that, if so, Yurovsky would arrange her transportation. Mother at once wrote to her sister to say that we were looking forward to her arrival.

Very late that afternoon, Father and the rest of us were asked by _Goloshchekin and Yurovsky to write letters to our friends and relatives here and abroad to the effect that we were in the far North, in Sweden, and that we were quite happy in our new surroundings_. Olga angrily replied, “If we get there, we will write to our friends from there and not from here.” Dr. Botkin had written such a letter or letters under pressure since he feared for the lives of his children. He said he had written one to Madame Elizabeth Narishkina and one or more to his children hoping they were still in Tobolsk.

Evidently those men wanted the world to believe that we escaped at night and were hiding somewhere in the wilderness and that our friends after receiving such letters would be satisfied that we were safe. In this way they wanted to hide their crime from the people. While Father was reading, suddenly he turned to us and said, “It is exactly twenty-seven years this month (July 1918) since I returned from Japan and that is the icon which was presented to me in the Government of Ufa upon my arrival there.” It was from the Government of Ufa that Father’s train was returned a few weeks earlier to Ekaterinburg. Someone commented that it seemed weird that Father suddenly at this time should remember that unpleasant event which took place in Japan, where he almost lost his life.

In the evening Yurovsky walked into our sitting room startling us. Jemmy, my little dog, charged at him, snarling. She had never acted like that before. I called her back, but it was too late. Yurovsky grabbed her by the neck and carried her away, saying, “Who brought this dog up here?”

Yurovsky reappeared as if nothing had happened and began talking, though no one heard what he said. Our only thought was, “What became of Jemmy?” No apologetic attitude crept into his affability. He continued to talk and to toy with my frightened stupefaction. Then he walked to Alexei and sat on his bed as if they were on the most intimate terms. He pulled out a revolver and handed it to brother saying, “Do you want to see an American automatic?” “No,” replied Alexei. No doubt all the warning given against the man leaped into the boy’s mind. He did not want to take it but Yurovsky thrust the weapon into his hand. “Is it loaded?” asked Alexei. Father stood up next to Alexei and said, “Please leave my son alone, he is not well.” Ignoring Father’s request Yurovsky answered, “It is not loaded now, but it will be.” Alexei became frightened as he held the pistol and Yurovsky regarded him with amusement.

At last Yurovsky went out. Mother with trembling hands picked up a book as we gathered around while Father read aloud. He let the book open itself and read: “Let us take courage and be strong, look straight with our spiritual eyes up to Christ.” Then again he read: “Do not fear those who kill the body, but those who wish to kill the soul.” It may not be exact but as I remember it went like that. His voice was hardly stronger than a whisper. We could hardly hear him over the drunken shouts that shrieked through the house from the guards’ quarters. Mother bent her head close to the window and listened in bewildered absorption. Her cheeks turned somewhat red, she looked around and smiled. Finally she said, “I hear the beautiful _Ave Maria_ so clearly, just as if it were being played in this very room.” We strained our ears again but could not hear what Mother claimed she was hearing.

I tried desperately to lose myself in the quotation which Father had just read, but Jemmy kept coming to my mind. I was afraid they had killed her. Father said, “Most of the Russian people usually are kind to animals.” Those were comforting words, but was Yurovsky a Russian? I was depressed with the thoughts about Jemmy, added to the off-key singing of the guards downstairs. Mother also noticed that they seemed unusually noisy this night, and they were drinking entirely too much. Father laid the book down and said: “The best thing we can do is to go to bed and forget about it.”

That evening as Father crossed the hall he saw several extra guards examining some rifles in the middle of the hall near the doors between the office and the stairway. When they saw Father, they lowered the butts of their rifles to the floor. Father knew every make of gun. He said, “These are the high-powered, German army rifles holding usually five cartridges; they can be fired singly or in rapid succession.” Olga replied, “I remember at the hospital, soldiers used to come with their bones shattered and their flesh mutilated. We always knew the type of gun which inflicted such wounds. Russian guns caused clean wounds.” Then Father added, “If Wilhelm had enough poison, he would have poisoned all the bullets.” This was the last time he mentioned the Kaiser’s name. It was four or five hours before the tragedy.

Father knew the Kaiser was obsessed with the thought of victory at any cost, victory even if it meant the sacrifice of the Kaiser’s own godson, my brother, whom he had vowed to protect according to our religion; also the sacrifice of his own cousins, my parents, and their daughters, too, for whom on his last visit in 1912 he had professed so much love. All this must have been on his conscience. Yet Holland gave refuge to this man who enslaved Russia and his own country as well.

These German guns which Father saw were frightening but we could not believe and it did not even come to our minds that Wilhelm, bad as he was, would permit the assassination of our family. We knew that Germany had demanded that our family should be delivered to Moscow unharmed; apparently the German High Command had learned of the character of our jailers.

Later I heard that the assassination was not known to Wilhelm until afterwards and that the German High Command was responsible, as well as some of our Allies, for all the catastrophe in my land. They had sent, or permitted, these men to come to Russia in order to bring about a revolution. They knew that if the old government should recover power it would not be pleasant for those responsible for the terrible killings and robberies they had caused in my country.

After my escape I was told that, when the Kaiser heard of the killing of our family and of the Grand Duchess Elizabeth and some of the other Romanovs, the Kaiser was beyond himself. He cried bitterly for hours, saying: “I have lost my best friend. Nicky was my best friend. I loved them all. My hands are clean. Why have the other cousins permitted such crimes to take place? My conscience is clean. I did not know what they were doing. I had nothing to do with it. It was Mirbach and Ludendorff, supported by those Nicky believed were his friends.”

In the last hours at Ekaterinburg Father spoke and his words are still fresh in my mind. He said: “It is the end of Russia, but of the Allies, too. They have dug their own graves and soon they too will lie in them, and Germany will pay retribution for her deeds of treachery. No one can escape consequences, no matter what they do to avoid them; sooner or later they will have to pay. The taste of blood is an epidemic and it will soon flow all over the world.”

Wilhelm could not bring disgrace on Father before the people of Russia, but he did bring disgrace on himself before the world.

The orders to kill the entire Romanov family came direct to Voykov, Beloborodov, Goloshchekin from the top Bolshevik leaders: Trotsky, Lenin, Sverdlov, Apfelbaum and the other men I have mentioned previously. They exchanged telegrams daily. On the 16th of July Yurovsky had a long talk with the men in Moscow. In the afternoon when Yurovsky came into our sitting room, Mother got up and went into her bedroom. He boasted that he, Sverdlov, Beloborodov and other comrades in Ekaterinburg were connected by telephone the entire morning talking with the comrades in Moscow. Dr. Botkin told us later that Yurovsky had talked with Trotsky, Lenin and others and that Goloshchekin or Sverdlov, or both, had just returned from Moscow, and that there had been a great deal of activity and excitement at the office.

In fact the Kremlin leaders were responsible for sending the Austro-Hungarians and Letts to guard the house inside for the last two weeks. Father remarked, “They use the same tactics as the Chinese did in the Boxer rebellion. But the danger here has come to the native people in their own land but not to foreigners.”

These two weeks our lives had hung by a thread and on the 16th of July between 9:00 A.M. and 12:30 P.M. our destiny was sealed.

During my escape my rescuer told me that all the guards outside the house--they were Russians--were given vodka to drink--as much as they could consume. None of them knew what was to take place inside that night. He also told me that one of his friends was told by one of the outside guards that the crime never would have taken place if the guards inside had been Russians and if the guards outside had not all been given free drinks late that evening. These outside guards, Russians, would have turned their guns on the foreigners because their humiliation was at its summit.

XXVIII DAWN TURNS TO DUSK

On Tuesday, July 16th, in the early evening, we heard directly below our rooms what we thought was the moving of large and heavy objects. The noise disturbed the whole household. We went to bed at 10:30 but could not sleep. Drunken voices from outside penetrated into all our rooms. Yurovsky’s room was on our floor somewhat removed from our quarters. From his room came the sounds of lewd talking. Soon we heard heavy footsteps approaching in our direction. The light went on and then a _deep_ voice was heard. It was Yurovsky’s.

He entered the room and then went on into Father’s room. Soon Father appeared in the doorway and in a faltering voice told us to hurry and get ready as we had to leave within the next forty minutes. While we were washing and dressing, we prayed and quietly cried. We were almost ready when another guard came in, telling us not to pack any of our belongings as there was no time. We took only a few essential things. Tatiana ran into our parents’ bedroom and helped Alexei to put on his braces over his limbs while Olga packed Alexei’s medicine. He was still ill and quite helpless and began to weep as did we sisters.

We girls dressed in white blouses and lightweight gray skirts and jackets and carried top coats, which bore some of our treasures sewn inside. Father and Alexei were dressed in military coats; Mother in a black suit. When we were ready, Dr. Botkin came in with a small bag and a coat on his arm.

The last few minutes before we left, we went to our knees and fervently prayed before an ancient icon of Christ and shared the holy _prosphora_ given us by the priest on the previous Sunday. This icon for centuries had been handed down from one Russian sovereign’s family to another. All our treasures had been catalogued for many years; there was a description of each piece with its origin and history. We carried this icon to Tobolsk and Ekaterinburg. We knew that it was the oldest and the most venerated of all the icons and more valuable than those that were embellished with gold and silver and studded with precious stones.

This framed cloth icon was said to have been made from the towel that was used by Jesus to wipe the perspiration and blood from His face before His crucifixion and it pictured clearly, though faintly, the imprint of His face. Subsequent tests disclosed that the cloth of the icon was made of the same material that was used in Jerusalem at the time of Christ, and that the spots and outline of the face were of human blood and perspiration. It was further shown that no human hand could have made this icon and for that reason it was called in Russian “Nerukotvorenny Spas” which means: No-hand-created Saviour. We left our rooms with a prayer on our lips.

My heart was pounding and a cold chill ran over my body as I was again struck with the violent force of the premonition which had haunted me all day long, ever since I awoke with a horrible dream early that morning. I had dreamed that I stood in the doorway of a very small wooden house somewhat like a fishing shack. It stood on a wooden platform. Presently I sensed that the little shack was floating on waters which were gradually rising from below the surface. As I looked through the mist I could see nothing around but water: no forest or mountain which could produce any safety. Not a murmur or a sound or a ripple could be heard. The depressing, lonely quietness engulfed me. I knew I was sinking slowly.

I was haunted by this nightmare when a man came into the dining room where the family had assembled, together with Dr. Botkin, Ivan Kharitonov and Anna Demidova. The man asked, “Are you ready?” Father answered, “Right, we are.” “Follow me, please,” the man said. Before we left the dining room Anna, who had with her two pillows, a blanket and a tiny bag, handed one of the pillows to Tatiana. Concealed in the pillows were some of our jewels.

With his lantern shedding a feeble light the man now led us along the hall and down the stairway into the courtyard. Father’s strong and protective arms were carrying Alexei who was crying from fear.

Suddenly I remembered our dogs. “Jemmy,” I said tearfully. “My dog, please let me have her.”

“You will get your dogs downstairs,” shouted one of the men.

With our help, Mother followed behind Father. The man moved his lantern from side to side to give a better light to the stairway. Mother almost fell as we reached the ground floor and passed into the yard. We saw shadows moving around in the court. The air was cool and the night was bright.

We re-entered the same building, passed through a hallway, and entered the second room on the right. It was approximately the same arrangement as upstairs. This was probably where we had heard the noises earlier in the evening from my sisters’ and my room. It had sounded as if furniture and other heavy objects were being moved. This room was about the size of our sleeping room and had not one single piece of furniture in it.

Dr. Botkin and Anna were told to put their small bags on the far side of the room, and we, too, had to put our jackets and top coats in the same place. The house was on an elevation so that these rooms were actually on the ground floor, I think one step up or down. Yurovsky went ahead of Father. In the hall he said something to Father, pointing to the first door we had just passed. Father held Alexei until three chairs were brought. Then he placed Alexei on one of the chairs and left the room. Mother sat on the left side of Alexei. About eight men were there when we came in. Probably some who followed us had been the shadows in the courtyard. They were dressed partly in civilian and partly in foreign military uniforms. All had revolvers stuck in their holsters and hand grenades attached to their belts.

Trup had been compelled to follow us. He had been ill for some days and had not been on hand to care for Father’s personal things. The guards had either failed to arouse him earlier or his fate had been decided at the last minute, for he appeared in his night garment and carried his clothes on his arm. We had not been allowed to see him frequently during his illness. He was not more than thirty-four or thirty-five. He looked much thinner and was almost blue in the face.

Tatiana rearranged the pillow which she had taken from Anna to make Alexei more comfortable, while we waited for Father to come back. In four or five minutes the group of men separated into two groups. Father walked between them. His face was ashen and the “Otsu mark” on his forehead was red like fire. His left shoulder and the left side of his face just below his eye were twitching. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his face and took the chair next to Alexei on the latter’s right side. What this man Yurovsky had said to Father in that room no one will ever know. Father preceded Yurovsky who was followed by others and who remained standing in the middle of the group.

I was on my Mother’s left side and Dr. Botkin was behind her on her right. My sisters were a few steps behind us. The men stood about eight feet away facing us. I am sure the others thought as I did that we were trapped, and there was nothing to do or say.

When Father entered the room, Mother started to raise herself. Suddenly she trembled and fell back into the chair as her head slumped to her right shoulder toward Alexei. Then I screamed and grabbed Dr. Botkin’s arm. While I was screaming, Yurovsky said something, exactly what, I did not hear. Simultaneously, I heard screams....

After this I was somewhat conscious. Still I felt no pain and did not see anyone fall but my lips were frozen cold and I felt very clammy and there was a violent ringing in my ears. I wanted to get up but I felt as if I were paralyzed, and lost consciousness entirely.

How long I lay in blackness, which held me floating between life and death, I cannot tell. Was it hours or days? I do not know. All too soon I awoke from oblivion to realization and horror. I had no sensation of coming back to life. All at once I knew I was alive and in pain. My mind was clear, I was cold and conscious of some terrible catastrophe. At first I shrieked frightfully; then I was afraid to breathe and to open my eyes. I knew I had just come to from unconsciousness. I began to feel the increasing pain and shiver from the wet cold, and became convinced that I was not dreaming. But a fear came over me. First I thought that I fell on the floor and got hurt, and that they, thinking I was dead, had buried me alive without a coffin, and that my grave was not yet sealed. I tried to control my shrieks realizing too well what had happened, though all was perfectly quiet now. Still I did not wish to open my eyes for fear of what I would see. I was cold and in great pain. My neck seemed swollen. I felt a tightness around my nose and swelling below my left eye.

The others: Were they beside me? Were they alive but afraid to move? I began to wonder. In the darkness I could feel no body warmth; I could hear no sound of breathing. Suddenly, it came to me. I remembered the anguished screams. I lay in a hush, a silence that was all the more pronounced by contrast with the noise and frantic screams before. It was the silence of death and the tomb. I opened my right eye, just a little. Quickly I closed it. My left eye was so swollen, it could not open. The air was heavy and there was a smell of damp earth. I listened. Surely someone must be near me. I moved my hands cautiously. I could feel on my right a crumbly earthen wall. Was I in a tomb? Buried alive? My eye flew open. I could see a tiny opening a little distance above.