Andrew Cook - To Kill Rasputin

Driven underground, the Khlysti referred to each other as ‘Ours’ or ‘Our own’. It was a sect ‘of the people’ that laid claim to a special kind of truth vouchsafed only to the poor. At least, it was ‘of the people’, until Rasputin conquered the ladies of St Petersburg.

His climb was extraordinary; he leapt from one social foothold to the next, up and up in a matter of months. In 1903 his prophecies, and in particular his frankly expressed insights into the character and aims of his listeners, impressed the archimandrite of Kazan. Thus he obtained letters of introduction to an important bishop in St Petersburg, who in turn introduced him to Bishop Feofan, confessor to the Tsarina. Invited to stay at Feofan’s St Petersburg apartment, Rasputin was introduced to Militsa, the wife of Grand Duke Pyotr Nikolaivich, who was sickly. Militsa was one of the two Black Sisters, as they were called, not only because they were dark but because they were from Montenegro. The other sister was Anastasia, the mistress (and later the wife) of that very tall and martial Grand Duke, Nikolai Nikolaivich, who would so badly offend Rasputin during the war.

At this time of social upheaval and impending international crisis, Militsa and Anastasia were close to the Tsarina. People sneered at them as her self-appointed ‘procurers of Holy Men’. Rasputin was the last and cleverest of a long line of these. The Tsarina was credulous about occult happenings and omens, so much so that she seemed silly even in Russia, where the existence of the supernatural was generally accepted.

From her earliest youth it had been clear that the future Tsarina Alexandra of Hesse lacked a sense of humour. In her teens she had received a proposal of marriage from Prince Albert Victor, or Eddy as he was more commonly known, the heir apparent to the English throne. Eddy, who was to die young, leaving the throne to his brother George, was a sweet-natured dandy and not nearly religious enough. Nicholas, the young heir to the throne of Russia, on the other hand, lived in a permanent state of anxiety and would one day be head of the Russian Orthodox Church. But she was a Lutheran…

Alexandra struggled with her religious conscience for more than three years before she consented to marry the Tsarevich Nicholas. He was a repressed, insignificant young man, physically almost the double of his English cousin Prince George. She made a more imposing figure than he did, in her clumpy heels beneath long swishing skirts, and a fussy hat like a huge meringue.

They had not been married long when Nicholas’s father, Alexander III, died in 1894. To celebrate the coronation of Nicholas and Alexandra, an outdoor festival was arranged for the poor, but hundreds of thousands turned up in search of a free meal and over a thousand of them were trampled to death in the crush. Grand Duke Sergei was Governor-General of Moscow at the time, and his mismanagement was blamed. Nicholas and Alexandra had arranged to attend a ball being held in their honour by the French that evening, and did not cancel. As they danced, crushed bodies were still being removed from the scene of the disaster by the cartload. Insensitivity of that kind was not easily forgotten.

St Petersburg society despised Alexandra anyway. Had some gaiety relieved the severity of her character she would have been forgiven almost anything, but she was haughty and distant and did not make friends easily. She was appalled by anything remotely improper, while St Petersburg society was quite relaxed and unshockable. 32Georgina Buchanan, Sir George Buchanan’s wife, who knew her when she was young, accused her of a ‘naïve simplicity’ allied with ‘uncompromising and domineering self-assurance’. She ‘strove from the very first to influence her husband to what she considered was the right way of thinking’. 33Alexandra seized upon the notion that the essence of Russianness was expressed by ‘the people’, and they all, from Archangel to Vladivostok, were fervently loyal. It followed that criticism was alien. In her mystic belief about ‘the people’ she echoed Militsa, but also her grandmother, Queen Victoria. The old Queen’s principles had influenced her when she was a girl, andVictoria was fond of the illusion that she was closer to the spirit of the English than the aristocracy were. Like Alexandra, the old lady could be self-righteous and was deeply wounded by bitchiness. They both wallowed in dramatic self-pity when the opportunity presented itself. But Victoria was sharp and livelyminded and Alexandra was entirely unburdened by reason.

By the turn of the century the court was led by the Grand Duchess Vladimir in St Petersburg, while the Tsar and Tsarina and their three daughters were rarely seen outside Tsarskoye Selo. The magnificent Romanov palaces were rarely, some never, visited and even the treasures of the comparatively modest Alexander Palace were put into storage. Instead, Alexandra had the walls painted mauve and ordered ugly suites of furniture from Maples in the Tottenham Court Road. Queen Victoria herself, with her tartan and watercolour aesthetic, her fiddly little tables and hulking great ornaments, was never as tasteless as this.

To explain her neglect of society, her ignorance of science and her increasing dependence on mystics and clairvoyants and healers, Alexandra flaunted her preoccupation with motherhood. The empire must descend through the male line. Alexandra’s existence would have no meaning for her unless she could produce a son. She must be able to pass the Tsardom to her own flesh and blood. Magic would work; she knew it. Around the turn of the century, Monsieur Philippe, a magician from Lyons, was presented to the Tsarina by Militsa.

Philippe was an obvious charlatan. Only an under-occupied woman half-crazed by a single obsession, as by that time Alexandra was, could have taken him seriously. Her mother-in-law, the Dowager Empress Maria Fyodorovna, interceded with Nicholas, but to no avail. Proofs of the Frenchman’s rascality emerged and were put before the Tsarina. But Alexandra had a fatal flaw: the gift of faith. She was like the White Queen who had trained herself always to believe ten impossible things before breakfast. Once she had made up her mind that something was true, it became so. Nothing would shake her belief.

So when, in 1901, she gave birth to her fourth child, which Philippe had told her would be a boy – the new Tsarevich – and it was a girl, she was bewildered. Monsieur Philippe regretted that his prediction had been confounded, but had she had more faith, it would certainly have come true. She saw the point of this, and made herself believe even more.

A condemnatory Secret Service report on Philippe arrived from Paris. The agent responsible, Pyotr Rachkovski, who had run the Okhrana in Western Europe for a decade, was forced out of his job, while Monsieur Philippe stayed. The rest of the Romanovs fumed in the background. The Tsarina (and her husband too, because Nicholas preferred to concur with his wife rather than face the hysterics that would result if he contradicted her) paid Philippe more rapt attention than ever. In 1902 she seemed to be expecting a child. The magician from Lyons diagnosed her condition and announced that this time it would be a boy. After doctors expressed doubts that the pregnancy was genuine, Alexandra would allow no one else to examine her. Somehow Philippe was provided with papers certifying that he was a Russian doctor of medicine. In August, however, the Tsarina was losing weight, and got a second opinion. Hers had been a phantom, that is, imaginary, pregnancy.

With the Black Sisters as their only friends, the imperial couple were pretty well isolated by their faith in Philippe. Grand Duke Nikolai, notwithstanding his love for Anastasia, was embarrassed by his own indirect association with the whole affair. Alexandra’s elder sister, Elizaveta Fyodorovna, who was almost as religious as she was and married to Grand Duke Sergei, tried to persuade her that the mystic must go. The Russo-Japanese War was in the offing and Nikolai needed all the help he could get. Regretfully, the imperial couple sent Philippe home to France with an opulent motor car and a generous pay-off.