Imperial Dancer: Mathilde Kschessinska and the Romanovs (33 page)

Unable to be a proper soldier Vova formed a small unit of fire fighters. Mathilde bought him a pump and the training began. Soon afterwards Mathilde awoke in the night to discover that a fire had broken out in a ground-floor chimney in the room below Andrei’s. She quickly evacuated everyone from the house but it was Vova’s fire fighters who extinguished the flames, before the Strelna fire brigade had even reached the dacha.

In the autumn Mathilde received a letter from the Noble Board of Guardians enquiring why she had not yet produced a yearly account of income and expenditure up to 1 January 1915 on behalf of her son. Half a per cent from every rouble of income was payable in tax. Not until February 1916 did Mathilde confirm that ‘young Vladimir Krasinsky does not have any personal estate or real estate, and the named lives with me and I am bringing him up with my own means’.
²¹

In the wake of the retreats the incompetent Sukhomlinov was replaced. When things failed to improve on the war front, the Empress hectored the Tsar into dismissing the popular Nicholasha, who she felt overshadowed her weak husband. By the last week of August Nicholas II had taken the fateful decision to become Commander-in-Chief of the Russian army. This would mean leaving Petrograd to take up residence at Stavka (the word used for general head-quarters), situated at Moghilev, 500 miles from the capital. Nicholasha was packed off to the Caucasus to direct the war against Turkey.

The Imperial family were horrified. Not only would the Tsar directly associate himself with the army’s defeats but, worse, by absenting himself from the capital he would leave the government in the hands of
the Empress. Behind Alexandra stood her ‘evil genius’ Rasputin, whose appearance at court was a direct result of the birth of the Tsarevich.

Alexei was discovered to be suffering from haemophilia, a blood-clotting deficiency transmitted by the mother usually only to male members of the family. Any knock or bruise can produce painful swellings as the blood fails to clot, until the swelling becomes so hard the haemorrhaging slows of its own accord. At the time of Alexei’s birth there was no cure, and a sufferer could die at any time often from a minor bump or scratch.

In her despair the Empress turned to a series of
Startsi
– wandering holy men – in the belief that they could save the life of her son. One of these was Gregory Rasputin, a coarse Siberian peasant with almost hypnotic eyes who on more than one occasion seemed able to stop Alexei’s bleeding simply by praying. To Alexandra he was a saint sent by God to help her son. Yet others saw a different side of Rasputin – a drunken lecher who seduced society ladies by telling them that to be cured of sin one had first to sin, and he offered sin and redemption in one package. The Empress refused to believe the rumours and soon Rasputin’s signature scrawled on a document could open almost any door.
²²
Rasputin had already begun to interfere in Church appointments and then, as the Imperial family feared, when the Tsar took over command of the army he began to meddle in the government of Russia. The results were disastrous.

The war had tied Fokine to the Imperial Theatres and increased his dependence on Mathilde. In the autumn of 1915 she was rehearsing his new ballet
Eros
, in which at the age of forty-three she created the role of the young girl. Partnered by Vladimiroff, she first performed this ballet at a charity gala in aid of refugee children on 20 November 1915 and it proved so successful that it was taken into the Maryinsky repertoire. Fokine had neither forgotten nor forgiven Mathilde’s earlier opposition to his innovations. According to Joseph Kschessinsky, Fokine ‘conceived the role [of the young girl] in a satirical spirit’, but Mathilde did not realise this. She therefore danced in her usual manner and fell into the trap set by Fokine to punish her, his ‘wolf in sheep’s clothing’.
²³

‘Vladimiroff, who danced with passion, inspired me more than anyone else,’ Mathilde said.
²⁴
He may have inspired more than her dancing. It seems that Mathilde was a little in love with him. He ‘received the highest salary ever paid to a first dancer and was granted more privileges than Nijinsky ever had at the Imperial Theatre,’
recalled Alexandra Danilova. ‘Kschessinska even had a special dressing room built for him.’ Many years later Mathilde called him ‘definitely’ her favourite partner. ‘Whilst most dancers were self-contained soloists, Vladimiroff danced real love duets with his partners, creating a sublime dialogue,’ she added.
²⁵

Five days later Mathilde was dancing
Swan Lake
. Grand Dukes Andrei, Boris and Michael were in the audience but Michael’s wife Natasha was obliged by etiquette to sit in a separate box. Such was the fate, Mathilde may have noted, of a morganatic wife.

Meanwhile the Empress was back on the warpath. On 9 January she wrote to Nicholas from Tsarskoe Selo:

Sergei goes to the Headquarters soon, I hear – better not keep him there long, as he is always a gossip, alas, and such a sharp, criticising [
sic
] tongue and his manners before strangers are not edifying – and then there are very unclear, unclean stories about her [Kschessinska] & bribes etc which all speak about, & the artillery is mixed up into it…
²⁶

A special commission investigated the Artillery Department and in January 1916 Sergei ‘resigned’ on the grounds of ill health. He was ordered to Stavka as Field Inspector-General of Artillery where, although he had daily contact with the Tsar, he seems to have done little more than grow a vegetable garden. The scandal over the bribes had not died down and Rodzianko feared it would adversely affect the dynasty if it became public knowledge. Sergei now spent nearly all his time at Stavka and in private letters became more cautious in an attempt to distance himself from Kschessinska, who had used him ‘in her quest for financial profit’.
²⁷

Soon rumours were current in Petrograd that a scheme was being drafted at Stavka ‘for the establishment of a dictatorship in the rear to deal with all matters concerning internal government and war supplies’. The idea emanated from Sergei, who would naturally be dictator himself. Rodzianko was appalled, seeing the appointment of a man like the Grand Duke as ‘tantamount to the ruin of the whole war supply organisation. He would again be surrounded by his former associates and collaborators, and nothing but ill would come of this to the army and the whole country.’ Rodzianko added that if the Grand Duke did not cease his intrigues in the sphere of munitions supplies, his activities would be exposed in the Duma. ‘I have more than sufficient evidence concerning them in my possession.’
²⁸

These activities also involved Kschessinska.

Mathilde had now been dancing on the Imperial stage for twenty-five years and at her request received a benefit performance of
Le Talisman
on 21 February 1916, in the presence of Grand Dukes Sergei, Dimitri, Boris and Andrei. Although the Tsar had returned from Stavka he was not at the theatre. The performance netted the enormous sum of £3,200 which was sent to the Imperial Theatres Society, of which Grand Duke Sergei was President, for the aid of the families of artists who had been called up. Mathilde had to repeat her famous solo five times. The usual Imperial present for twenty-five years’ service was a small diamond-studded lyre, the emblem of the Imperial Theatre School. On this occasion Mathilde omitted to say what she received.

Although Mathilde had issued a statement to the press requesting no flowers, a vast number of bouquets were handed up to the stage. ‘She deserves them!’ was Vova’s retort to a lady who complained at this extravagance in wartime.
²⁹
From the public Mathilde received a massive crystal wine cup in a solid silver setting, together with a solid silver ladle. It was one of the last great evenings of the Imperial ballet. A critic described her talent as ‘like an indestructible mausoleum’.
³⁰

On 17 April Mathilde finally achieved her ambition to dance
Giselle
. The occasion was a performance in aid of one of Grand Duchess Marie Pavlovna’s charities.
Giselle
had been danced with spectacular success by Pavlova and there was great interest in how Kschessinska would handle it at the age of almost forty-four. The box office receipts were high, probably because of the public’s curiosity. The Grand Duchess, apparently pleased with the takings, sent Mathilde her signed photograph. Others were more critical, saying Mathilde was unsuited to the role.

The French Ambassador Maurice Paleologue was also unimpressed. ‘The archaic character of the … [ballet] … is heightened by the defects and qualities of the principal interpreter,’ he wrote. ‘Kschessinska is entirely without charm, feeling or poetry; but her formal and cold style, the tireless vigour of her pivoting, the mechanical precision of her
entrechats
and the giddy agility of her
pirouettes
make all the enthusiasts wild with delight.’ One of the balletomanes later explained that, in contrast to the ‘horrible modern ballets’, these old works presented a picture ‘of what Russian society was, and ought to be. Order, punctiliousness, symmetry, work well done
everywhere
.’
³¹
The Ambassador preferred Karsavina.

During the spring of 1916 Mathilde decided to take presents to the soldiers at the front. Accompanied by Pierre Vladimiroff and
Alexander Viktorov, a member of the Red Cross, she set out by train for a sector of the Minsk district.

The hotel there, with its dimly lit rooms and bedrooms almost empty of furniture, made a depressing impression. The whole place appeared neglected, dirty and primitive. The following day a car took them to headquarters. Although the front was calm, evidence of recent fighting was all around and the wooden crosses on newly made graves, surrounded by shell-holes and mangled trees, made a sad contrast to the spring sunshine.

The commander put his own house at their disposal. Although more like a hut it had two comfortable rooms, one for Mathilde and the other for her companions. Then they distributed the presents and were taken to the long dining-room where supper was served. Mathilde was astonished at the abundant and varied number of dishes, and was assured that virtually anything could be obtained. The hut was open along one side, with a projecting floor covered by a roof and enough space for an orchestra. When one of the soldiers danced a spirited ‘cakewalk’ Mathilde regretted having neither music nor costume to perform her Russian dance. It was naturally not in her nature to improvise.

Early next morning they were driven to the front line, past barbed-wire defences, a heavily camouflaged battery and a concealed long-range gun. Finally they reached a church damaged by enemy fire, but as the Germans did not fire between noon and 2 o’clock the officer told Mathilde they were safe. From behind the church she could see a German soldier on the opposite bank of the river but the commander absolutely forbade an excursion to the advanced posts to see the German trenches.

Early in the afternoon they set out on the return journey to Headquarters, arriving before dark. They left Minsk that night and two days later Mathilde was back at Strelna.

In the autumn, although still very involved with her hospital, family matters were on Mathilde’s mind. Ali had been suffering from ill health and in February 1916 he and Julie went to Sevastopol where he had six weeks’ treatment at the Romanov Institute. Now he was once again receiving treatment in Sevastopol for what he called a ‘creeping’ feeling down the left side of his body. In October Philippe Ledé died after a long illness. This was a shock to all the family as Fili had felt so much better when he visited them at Peterhof earlier that year. On top of all this, Slava, who was in Lausanne, had been called up. He had left
Russia as a child because of poor health and his godfather, Grand Duke Sergei, now wrote to the Russian Embassy in Geneva asking that he not be sent back to Russia. Medical certificates were sent to certify to his illness and he evaded the call-up.
³²

The situation in Russia was going from bad to worse. ‘The Emperor reigns: but it is the Empress who governs – under Rasputin’s guidance,’ a dismissed minister told the French Ambassador. Day after day the Empress wrote hectoring, almost hysterical letters to the Tsar at the front, full of Rasputin’s ideas on everything from taxes to food supplies. Soon she was nagging Nicholas to dismiss this or that minister who was opposed to Rasputin, the autocracy, or both. In their place were appointed nonentities favoured by Rasputin. Twelve ministers were replaced in thirteen months, in what became known as ‘Ministerial Leapfrog’. Alexandra and Rasputin then turned their attention to the military situation. The Empress faithfully transmitted Rasputin’s instructions to the Tsar at Stavka but when the situation failed to improve the outcry against
Niemka
, ‘the German woman’, grew louder.
³³

Mathilde never saw Rasputin even from a distance but she had heard the gossip and considered it ‘harmful and undesirable’ that he should be on such intimate terms with members of the Imperial family. Details of the Tsarevich’s haemophilia were unknown at the time (even the Tsar’s sisters only received definite confirmation of it in 1912)
³⁴
, so most people assumed that Rasputin’s hold over the Empress was sexual.