Alexander II_ The Last Great Tsar - Edvard Radzinsky [70]
“George” was one of Goloshchekin’s party names. Thus two old friends met in Turukhansk—Goloshchekin and Sverdlov, the two future organizers of the execution of the tsar and his family.
And Ekaterinburg, where the last tsar parted with his life, would be renamed Sverdlovsk after one of these two friends now in exile.
Grand Duke Nicholas Nikolaevich became commander-in-chief, and soon afterward the Tsar of All the Russias set out for the front to join the army, to Headquarters at Baranovitchi.
The tsar went to war, and the tsaritsa wrote him letters. “The tsar went to war”—that is how fairy tales used to start. Once upon a time, in another century, preparing to become the rulers of the country, they had written each other endless letters. Now, on the eve of his farewell to the throne, everything was repeating itself. Between these two streams of letters lay their entire life. A life that did not require them to resort to the pen, for in twenty years of marriage they had rarely been apart. And here it was: war.
As once before, they wrote each other in English. Many years had passed since she had come to Russia, but she still thought in the language of her grandmother Victoria. She placed a cross at the end of her letters: “Save and protect.”
“I REREAD YOUR LETTERS AND TRY TO IMAGINE IT IS MY BELOVED TALKING TO ME”
In their letters, they carried on a conversation. Here I take snatches from their vanished speech.
She: “Ts[arskoe] S[elo], Sept. 19th 1914. My own, my very own sweet One. I am so happy for you that you can at last manage to go, as I know how deeply you have been suffering all this time—yr. restless sleep has been even a proof of it.… Except all I go through with you & our beloved country & men I suffer for my ‘small old home’ & her troops & Ernie.… egoistically I suffer horribly to be separated—we are not accustomed to it & I do so endlessly love my very own precious Boysy dear. Soon 20 years that I belong to you & what bliss it has been….
“Sept. 20th 1914. Oh, my love! It was hard bidding you goodbye and seeing that lonely pale face with big sad eyes at the waggon-window—my heart cried out, take me with you.… I came home and then broke down, prayed—then lay down and smoked to get myself into order. When eyes looked more decent I went up to Alexei and lay for a time near him on the sopha in the dark.”
He: “Headquarters, 22 September, 1914.… How terrible it was parting from you and the dear children, though I knew that it was not for long. The first night I slept badly, because the engines jerked the train roughly at each station. I arrived here the next day at 5.30; it was cold and raining hard. Nicolasha met me at the station at Baranovitchi….
“[The officers] made a long and interesting report to me in their train, where, as I expected, the heat was terrible!…
“Beloved mine, I kiss you again and again.… I am quite free and have time to think of my Wify and my family. It is strange, but it is so.”
She: “Sept. 24th, 1914.… Sweetheart, I hope you sleep better now, I cannot say that of myself, the brain seems to be working all the time and never wanting to rest. Hundreds of ideas and combinations come bothering one—I reread your dear letters several times and try to think its Lovy speaking to me. Somehow we see so little of each other, you are so much occupied and one does not like to bother with questions when you are tired after your reports and then we are never alone together….
“25th.… This miserable war, when will it ever end. William, I feel sure must at times pass through hideous moments of despair, when he grasps that it was he, and especially his antirussian set, wh. began the war and is dragging his country into ruin. All those little states, for years they will continue suffering from the aftereffects. It makes my heart bleed when I think of how hard Papa and Ernie struggled to bring our little country to its present state of prosperity.… Prayers and implicit