Alexander II_ The Last Great Tsar - Edvard Radzinsky [29]
They were having a good time at Ilinskoe. Ioann and Konstantin, the Romanov sons of the poet Grand Duke Konstantin Konstantinovich (K.R.), were running through the meadow with Dmitry. The infant Igor, K.R.’s youngest son, was crawling by Grand Duke Paul.
Upstairs, in the house, Ella was singing K.R.’s “Lullaby” as her husband turned pages.
Downstairs, Nicky was watching the sporting children benignly; Alix, greedily. Oh, how Alix dreamt of a son.
At the bottom of a mine shaft, Ella would have the strength to tie a handkerchief around Ioann’s smashed head. Konstantin and Igor would perish in the mine shaft too. And, by the way, Uncle Paul would be shot dead a few months later.
Their carefree life continued. They traveled.
Austria—a visit to the aged Emperor Franz Joseph, then visited Nicky’s grandmother and grandfather (the Danish king and queen), and from there to England to another grandmother, Queen Victoria. The circuit of royal names ended in a republic—France.
Khodynka, which later would be held up to him so many times in Russia, had made no impression on Europe. In France he was received ecstatically: the beautiful empress, the young sovereign, and the enchanting little girl in the open carriage. This was the first visit to Paris of a Russian tsar since his grandfather’s unfortunate visit, when the Pole Berezowski shot at him—in revenge for the oppression of Poland.
No one was shooting now. On the contrary: Nicholas was greeted by enthusiastic crowds and ovations. Only a free republic can get so excited about a monarch.
“On September 25, a bridge named after my papa was laid. We sat in a large tent.… Then the three of us went to Versailles. Crowds of people stood along the entire route from Paris to Versailles. My hand nearly dried up [he was in uniform and kept touching his hand to the brim of his cap].
“We arrived at 4.30 and took a ride around the beautiful park, viewing the fountains.… There truly is a similarity to Peterhof. The halls and rooms of the palace are interesting in this historical aspect.”
He was stunned by the similarity to Peterhof, the tsars summer palace on the Gulf of Finland, and by the “historical aspect.” She stood on the balcony of the palace where during the Revolution the people had burst into Versailles and forced the royal couple out.
In Paris Alix was told about the former site of the pit where all those guillotined had been brought. She and Nicky pictured them together in the dark filth: Danton, Robespierre, the Girondists. They had dared execute their own king. Well, God punished them with madness, and they killed each other. She never forgot all this. Twenty years later, when she heard of Nicky’s abdication, she repeated in French, “abdiqué” (“he has abdicated”).… The secret recesses of the soul.
The year 1896 was coming to an end. Alix was expecting a child, and she believed it would be a boy. How she longed for that boy.
“29 May, 1897. The second happiest day in our family’s life.… At 10 in the morning the Lord blessed us with a little girl, Tatiana. She weighs 8½ pounds and is 54 centimeters long. Read and wrote telegrams.”
THE IMPRACTICABILITY OF DREAMS
He was still ruling on the strength of his dead father, but an unseen volcano was already smoldering: upheaval in the army (which was not written about in the press; the army was always supposed to be loyal) and the terrible famine of 1898 (which was written about a great deal). But their carefree happiness continued. During those years he hunted a lot.
“20 September [1898]. Total game killed: 100 deer, 56 goats, 50 boar, 10 foxes, 27 hares—253 in 11 days.”
Such was the tsar’s hunt. But another hunt had already begun in his country—a hunt in which the trophies would be much more serious: a hunt for people.
It began as soon as the twentieth century was under way. In February 1901 the minister of education was killed by a former student. The student explained that