The late Grand Duke Constantine (known in the literary world as "K.R.") was a man of remarkable character and personality, richly endowed alike in imagination and those qualities that make for friendship.
He was, of course, widely known and admired for his remarkable musical and literary talents, and not in Russia alone, while his famous drama, The King of the Jews, revealed in addition a powerful intellect, combined with deep religious feeling. This greatest and last of the Imperial poet's works has been translated into several foreign languages. It has awakened4 universal admiration5, and has been enthusiastically praised by the Press of most European capitals. All this, however, is too well known to need repetition. Let me, therefore, turn to another and still more personal aspect of the Grand Duke's character: the extraordinarily7 attractive graciousness and the sympathetic intuition that endeared him to all who had the privilege of coming into {248} intimate contact with him. Here, indeed, was a precious and priceless quality—the gift of unfailing tact and exceptional intuition, the power always to say the right thing at the right moment, and to enter warmly and cordially into the thoughts and feelings of others.
I will quote an instance: I am deeply devoted8 to the memory of my two brothers, Alexander and Nicolas, but, realising that this fact is of interest to no one but myself, I seldom speak of it. The Grand Duke, however, seemed to have read what was written in my very soul. I had the privilege of conversing9 with him at some length on only two occasions, but they were occasions I shall never forget. The other occasions were passing and rather superficial. The first time, he spoke10 to me at length of nothing but the Slav question and the death of my brother Nicolas. The Grand Duke remembered all the details of my brother's untimely end in Serbia.
THE GRAND DUKE CONSTANTINE NICOLAéVITCH
THE GRAND DUKE CONSTANTINE NICOLAéVITCH
On the second occasion—-alas11! I was destined12 never to see the dear Grand Duke again—our conversation was dedicated13 to the memory of my brother Alexander and to Old Catholicism and Slavophilism, to which my brother devoted his whole life, and of which he spoke even in his very last moments. I must add that I had edited two large volumes of my brother's works in Russian, but had hesitated to send them to the Grand Duke, contenting myself with offering him my Berne editions of Alexander Kiréeff's French works, which, as far as I know, are unobtainable in Russia. With his usual amiability14, the Grand Duke had thanked me by letter—and {249} now, how indescribably kind and charming was the manner in which he reproached me for not giving him all I had edited!
There was another trait in the Grand Duke's character, which, to me, had a peculiar15 charm: I refer to his ever-ready sympathy and interest in all cases where his influence or help might be of advantage. It goes without saying that neither my brother nor myself ever appealed to this kind interference unless we had thoroughly16 investigated the case in question. The Grand Duke was aware of this, and his help was always immediately forthcoming, without any needless delays or formalities, and without a trace of the distressing18 red-tapeism that is elsewhere often responsible for so much mischief19 and sorrow.
One meets with just this same kindness and compassion20 when one approaches our beloved Emperor. One has only to be absolutely free from all egotistical aims, and to be known as were my two brothers—and once this is so, no appeal to the Imperial sympathy is ever neglected or fruitless.
It is, of course, exceedingly difficult to reach His Imperial Majesty21, not only because of his exalted22 position as Emperor, but also by reason of his being overwhelmed by work. He hardly ever limits himself to an eight-hours' day labour. An eight-hours' day would be almost a rest to our Emperor. There is no Trades union rule for the protection of Kings.
But let me return to my kind Grand Duke.
Perhaps I may be allowed to quote two incidents that took place a few weeks before his death. There had been brought to my notice a wounded soldier, {250} whose case was particularly tragic23. His friends considered nothing so desirable as to have him received in the hospital founded by the Dowager Grand Duchess Constantine, the mother of the Grand Duke. I wrote to His Imperial Highness on the subject, and in the course of the same day received a kind reply, informing me that the matter had been arranged and that the soldier would be at the hospital in a few hours' time.
The second incident was concerned with the publication of a book. In all cases where members of the Imperial family are involved, certain formalities have to be observed by our censors—failing which the book may have to be greatly altered, or suppressed. Anyone connected with literary work knows that such alterations24 are sometimes extremely costly25 and troublesome. A dear friend of mine, who had very little money to spare, had written a book that was threatened with difficulties of this order. I wrote to the Grand Duke explaining the facts, and here again everything was immediately and satisfactorily arranged.
I could give countless26 other instances, but the above, which I have taken at random27, are sufficiently28 characteristic.
I have often had occasion to speak of the Grand Duke, and have always noticed with the deepest pleasure that the mention of his name awakened everywhere, even among people who knew him but slightly, feelings of sincere affection and devotion. The fascination29 exercised by his personality was unfailing. His literary gifts appealed to poets, his musical talent to musicians—but to me, his most {251} charming and touching30 quality was that deep, indescribable sympathy and insight which seemed to enable him to read people's souls. Such sympathy, such intuition, is a great living force! Yes—God sometimes sends into the world exceptional people, who can never be replaced, and whose very memory radiates like a warm, shining light, where their footsteps have passed.
Of such, unquestionably, was our never-to-be-forgotten Grand Duke Constantine.
On one occasion he wrote the following letter, which I quote as showing the charm with which he expressed himself:
DEAR AND HIGHLY-ESTEEMED MADAME NOVIKOFF,
Again I take up the pen to thank you heartily31 for the new series of valuable and curious autographs, with which you so graciously enriched my collection, that I already owe to your generosity32. The Ikon of Christ of Andrea del Sarto, before which your brother always prayed, forwarded to me by General M. E. Keppen for Pavlovsk, is placed here at the Palace Church, on the Chancel, where all our family attends church service and where your dear brother often prayed as well. This beautiful Image will remain a prayer memorial to Alexander Alekseevitch, who lived so many years in his favourite Pavlovsk. I hope you will acquiesce33 in the choice I made for this most valuable Image of Christ the Saviour—in the Pavlovsk Church.
Allow me to kiss your hand, asking you to keep me your kind friendship in the future.
Your heartily devoted, etc.,
CONSTANTINE.
{252}
On October 27th, 1914, I received from him the following note: "It is just a month to-day since our beloved son was wounded—not 'slightly' as seemed at first to be the case, but mortally. God gives and God takes away. May His name be blessed now and for ever more."
It will be seen by the date of this note that Prince Oleg, then only twenty-one years of age, was one of the early victims of the war. At the time I little thought that the Grand Duke himself would soon follow his gifted son, Prince Oleg Constantinovitch.
Until the recent appearance of his biography, the fame of Prince Oleg was too little known, and it certainly had not travelled far outside Russia.
To me, this charming Prince was particularly dear; for I had seen him taking such affectionate care of my brother, Alexander Kiréef, who was already blind, ill and dying. The young man used to come, and talk to him, the principal defender34 of "Old Catholicism," of the efforts to revive the pure teachings of the Church, as it was before the division of the churches in the ninth century. No subject was dearer to my brother's heart, and, seeing the beneficial influence of these conversations, the young Prince returned to the subject many times in my presence.
One day he said: "General, nobody has ever been so useful as you in supporting the Old Catholic movement. You are my father's friend, and I am as proud of you as he is."
Yes, I shall never forget with what loving eyes the young man gazed into the clever beautiful face {253} before him, where the eyes were already dim and on the point of being closed for ever. How terribly vividly35 some moments come back to our memory.
The talented child of a talented father, it was early evident that Prince Oleg had inherited the brilliant gifts of the Grand Duke. It is barely two years since The King of the Jews was produced with immense success at the Hermitage Theatre in the Winter Palace at Petrograd, the Grand Duke himself, as well as his sons, taking part in the performance.
Prince Oleg was clearly marked out as belonging to the elect of the earth, and by his early death not only has Russian literature been deprived of a future shining light, but the most cultured circles of Petrograd society are the poorer for the loss of a personality, touching and lovely in its goodness and unselfishness, and its youthfully enthusiastic and unswerving sense of duty and obligation.
The young Prince's biography concerns itself with the reminiscences of Prince Oleg's early governesses and later tutors, with his diaries and rough sketches37, countless unfinished stories and poems, and also with a particularly interesting undertaking38 in connection with Poushkin's works.
Poushkin was the boy's ideal from his earliest days, and it was this love for the great poet and his works that gave him the desire to enter the same Lyceum (College) at which Poushkin had been educated. This desire was realised, the completion of his course happening to coincide with the centenary celebrations of Poushkin's birth. On leaving, Prince Oleg presented to the Institution {254} a personally executed facsimile of all the Poushkin manuscripts, carefully treasured in the Poushkin museum, which were written while the poet was a student at the college. The young enthusiast6 afterwards conceived the idea of editing the whole of Poushkin's works in this fashion, bringing them out in loose sheets and unbound folios, and distributing them among museums and book-lovers. The work was carried out mostly by means of the most detailed39 and perfect photographic reproduction, not even omitting the smallest line, point, or blemish40 in the paper. Unhappily this labour of love was not destined to be completed, but as much as has been done is a wonder of execution and a real literary treasure.
For the general reader, perhaps the most attractive pages of the biography are those that deal with the Prince's early years, recent as they are.
"I sometimes try to imagine," he writes in one of the diaries of his childhood, "what would happen in my own immediate17 circle if I were to die. What would my friend do? I suppose he would grow pale and thin, and would fret41 terribly. I see him in imagination, mounting the steps of my catafalque to bid me a last good-bye, and I see mama's expression as she follows him with her eyes.
"And then, suddenly, it seems curiously42 pleasant to have all these people thinking of me so regretfully! There flashes across my mental vision a copy of the Novoye Vremya, and I see on the first page, in large letters, the announcement of my death. I notice also that there is a reproduction of my photograph—and for a moment, I stop to wonder which {255} photograph they will publish. All this gives me extraordinary satisfaction.
"But the pleasantest thought of all is that the Novoye Vremya will print an obituary43 notice saying that I took my Degree at the Lyceum, that I won the Poushkin medal, and that they liked me there. Perhaps even Radloff himself may write a memoir44 of his late pupil. At this point, I stop ... really, I was going too far, it is very ridiculous, and I am ashamed of myself! I wrinkle my brow, and try to decide seriously whether I should really be willing to die just now. My inner consciousness tells me that actually, it would be stupid to die before having accomplished45 anything. No, not for the world ... I don't want to die without fame, without having done anything, without deserving to be remembered by anybody."
How touching this is—especially now, when one can regard it as something like a presentiment46.
Interesting from another standpoint is the description by the then thirteen-year-old Prince Oleg of the reception by the Emperor, at the Winter Palace, of the Deputies of the first Duma in 1905. The young, awakening47 soul of the child trembled with awe48 and ecstasy49. His eyes, fixed50 on the Emperor, noted51 every shade of tone and expression, and his description, too long for quotation52 here, is glowing in the extreme.
On February 10th of the same year he writes:
"Something unusual is in the air. It is said that on the 19th there will be a rising in the whole of Russia. Recently M—— sent a secret telegram to Simferopol. A message has also come from the {256} Crimean Division—they have caught a Revolutionist. They say there is a plot to blow up Livadia. There has been a rising in St. Petersburg and disorders53 in the suburbs of Moscow. On the 4th Uncle Serge was murdered. Poor Uncle Serge! mama has written us horrible details—she says we have lost a true friend. This awful incident has made a deep impression on us all. May it be God's will that everything should right itself somehow. Disorders in every town! How painfully this must affect mama! It is a long time since I last received a letter from her."
Then a page about Port Arthur!
"What have we lived to see! Stoessel has surrendered Port Arthur! It appears there was no possibility of holding out any longer. Kondratenko is killed. Yes, many heroes have fallen at Port Arthur."
How significant and how true are the following words, which show a remarkable insight in a boy so young:
"Our Government is composed chiefly, not of Russians, but of Germans—and, of course, Germans do not care what becomes of us. Naturally, the result is that Russians lose. We are too careless—we do not sufficiently educate ourselves. It is imperative54 that every Russian should work at himself and educate himself from his childhood."
When one considers that the writer of the above lines was barely thirteen years old, one cannot but wonder as much at the serious trend of his thoughts as at the simplicity55 of his style.
{257}
Here is another charming page from about the same period, a little earlier:
"To-day I received a letter from my tutor, I.M. It was so touching that I nearly burst into tears—but of course I restrained myself. How stupid I was, when, at first, I was glad of the war! [Between Russia and Japan.] How much suffering, how many orphaned56 families it has occasioned! At the beginning I wanted to run away and go to the front. If, during our journey to the Crimea, it should be God's will to send me to the war now, I should still be happy. To-day at lunch they were saying that there were only 10,000 left in Port Arthur, that Port Arthur cannot hold out. At six o'clock in the evening, I shut myself up in my room and prayed that God might help us. I took my Prayer Book, and thought to myself, 'I will open it just at random, and read. Perhaps I may chance on something suitable, just for the war.' I opened the book and read, 'Special prayers for times of war!'"
The above is an extract from a diary.
"The education of the young Prince and his brothers," says the Novoye Vremya in an interesting article on the life of Oleg Constantinovitch, "was very systematic57 and thorough. They rose at half-past six, were taken for a morning walk in the park, and at eight were already at their lessons. Each lesson lasted forty minutes, and between it and the next there was an interval58 of twenty minutes. There were from four to five lessons daily. Luncheon59 was at one, and from two to four the young Princes rode daily with their uncle, the Grand Duke Dimitri. From four to seven preparation for the following {258} day, at seven dinner, then forty minutes' reading with one of the teachers of foreign languages, then drawing and dancing. An arduous60 day's work indeed!"
Here is another charming extract from the diary:
"We must study hard and prepare ourselves. Perhaps we must work even more seriously than did the rulers of to-day in their youth. There are hard times coming—and hard times call for serious preparation. The further we get from the year of Christ's birth, the harder grow the times, and the harder the times, the more necessary a thorough preparation."
These are wonderful words from a boy of twelve.
The following words, also written in his diary, this time in the train when homeward bound after a summer spent abroad, are interesting in their charmingly expressed and idealistic patriotism61:
"We are already nearing beloved Russia. Behind us is France, with her joyous62, charming, talented people, with Paris, Versailles, and Napoleon's tomb. Now we are passing through this dull Germany, in an hour we shall have crossed the Russian border. Yes, in an hour I shall be in Russia, that dear land where there breathes something sacred, unknown in other lands, on the face of whose soil are scattered63 churches and monasteries64, in the mysterious twilight65 of whose ancient cathedrals there rest in silver coffins66 the bones of her sons, in whose dim shrines67 the faithful kneel constantly at prayer before the solemn sacred images of her saints. In my beloved Russia there are still dreamy forests, immeasurable steppes, and impassable marshes68.
{259}
"There are moments in one's life when suddenly with a deep, passionate69 impulse one realises how one loves one's country. In those moments one longs unspeakably to work, to help, to do something worthy70, to devote one's life to the service of Russia!"
A later extract from his diary is the following:
"We are five brothers and are all going to the war with our regiments71. This fact pleases me immensely, for it proves that at a trying moment the Imperial Family knows how to rise to the occasion.
"On the 20th of July, Germany declared war against us. On the same day we were commanded to assemble at the Winter Palace at 3.30. The streets were crowded and there was tremendous cheering as we passed. In the Nicolaevsky Hall there were first prayers, and then the Manifesto72 was read. During the prayers the whole assemblage sang, 'Save us, O Lord,' and 'God save the Emperor!' [the Russian National Anthem73.]
"At the moment when the Emperor drove up to the Palace, the whole dense74 crowd on the great square on their knees. We were all overcome and wept with emotion."
The Prince never had the slightest presentiment of his death, and was afraid only for his brothers. "I am constantly anxious," he wrote, "about Kostia, Gabriel and John, but perhaps principally about Igor. For myself, I fear nothing. Something tells me that no bullet will so much as touch me."
God willed it otherwise! The Prince was wounded during an attack on Vladislavov by the Second Division of the Guards. Our side started the firing. {260} The Germans retreated, but were stopped by a detachment of our Hussars. At this point Prince Oleg, longing36 for action, eagerly begged his commander, Count Ignatieff, to allow him with his men to rush forward and seize this handful of Germans.
For a long time the commander refused to accede75 to this request, but, at last, allowed himself to be persuaded and gave in. Misfortune came immediately. Prince Oleg, fired with youthful enthusiasm, rode fast and far in advance of his men. The Germans were caught up, five of them were killed, the rest surrendered. Suddenly, a wounded trooper fired from the ground. A report—and the Prince fell. Alas, the wound, taken at first to be quite slight, turned out, on closer examination, to be only too severe, and very soon—possibly through the unavoidable delay in operating—blood poisoning set in. The operation was performed at Vilna, after a long and weary journey, first in a plain jolting76 cart, the only conveyance77 at hand—and then in the train. The Prince regained78 consciousness very quickly and felt well. A telegram arrived from the Emperor, conferring on him the Order of the Cross of St. George; also came a telegram from the Grand Duke Nicolas.
"It was good to see the Prince's joy," writes an eye-witness of the scene, "and the pride with which he showed me both these telegrams."
In the evening the Principal of the Military College at Vilna visited the patient and congratulated him on having suffered and been wounded for his country.
{261}
"I am so happy," exclaimed the Prince in answer. "So happy. This was most necessary. It will encourage the troops to know that the Imperial House is not afraid to shed its blood."
The Prince was very animated79 and beamed with joy at the consciousness of his own suffering for his beloved country. At times it was evident, in spite of his effort to hide the fact, that he was in great pain.
Here is a very interesting letter from the Grand Duke Constantine's aide-de-camp, who was with the Prince during all these terrible days. This letter is published by the Moscow Gazette:
"At about one o'clock in the night, I was told that the Prince had just awakened. I immediately went to him. He was pale as death. At the sight of me a troubled, welcoming smile lit up his youthful features. 'Nicolas!' he exclaimed. 'Here you are at last! Heavens, how glad I am now that you have come! Now you shall not leave me again. I will not let you go.'
"'Of course I shall not leave you,' I answered with emotion. 'Here we shall stay together till we are quite well again.'
"'Yes ... yes ... together ... till I ... get ... well....'
"So convinced was he that his recovery was to be speedy and certain. One had to swallow one's tears and to hide one's grief.
"'Has Igor told you everything?' he continued. 'The Emperor has given me the St. George. I am so happy! There is the telegram, there, on the table.'
{262}
"I sat down beside the bed, as he asked me, and tried to talk; but soon noticed that he was falling into a state of semi-consciousness. At my slightest movement, however, he opened his eyes and exclaimed: 'There, he is gone—and I said I would not let him go!'
"At about eight o'clock in the morning the Prince grew more restless. He constantly asked to be moved from one side to the other, now putting his arms under his head, now embracing me feverishly80 and stifling81 a cry or a groan82.
"A telegram arrived, saying that the young hero's parents were on the way to him and would be with him at five o'clock. At midday the doctors examined the patient again and found the pulse good, and the poisoning not advancing. There was still hope. At about four o'clock, however, a change for the worse suddenly set in. The breathing became more frequent and the pulse weaker. There were signs of sepsis and delirium83. The train by which the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess were arriving was two hours late. In the meanwhile the patient's strength was failing minute by minute and it became necessary to recur84 to the aid of injections to stimulate85 the heart's action. His lips were constantly moistened with champagne86, and in order to hide from the Prince the hopelessness of his condition, we filled our glasses and told him that we were all drinking with him to his speedy recovery. It was horrible beyond words, and never in my life shall I forget those few sips87 of champagne in the presence of the dying Prince!
"Clear consciousness alternated with delirium. {263} At seven o'clock he suddenly threw his poor little thin arms round my neck and whispered, 'Like this.... Like this ... together ... to meet them.' I thought at first that he was wandering, but no! He was alluding88 to the arrival of his parents. At last they came. For one moment he recognised them. The Grand Duke had brought his dying son the Cross of St. George from his Imperial uncle.
"'The little white cross! ... The little white cross! ...' whispered Prince Oleg, and he bent89 forward slightly and kissed the shining enamel90. We pinned the Cross to his shirt. Presently the patient began to gasp91 for air, and it was clear that the end was near. Those awful moments of silent waiting, those last short breaths ... how terrible is the mystery of death. At 8.20 the young life closed...."
A deep and real love breathed in all his life, doubly touching through the purity and transparency of the innocent heart in which it throbbed92. Perhaps his soul, looking down from Paradise, can see the tear-dimmed eyes of many Russians gazing sadly up to Heaven's gates through which the beloved young hero has passed.
Russia is loyal to her sons. She will never forget them.
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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tact
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censored
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awakened
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admiration
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enthusiast
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extraordinarily
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devoted
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conversing
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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alas
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destined
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dedicated
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amiability
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peculiar
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thoroughly
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immediate
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distressing
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mischief
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compassion
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majesty
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exalted
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tragic
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costly
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random
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sufficiently
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fascination
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touching
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heartily
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generosity
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defender
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vividly
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longing
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sketches
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undertaking
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| v.损害；玷污；瑕疵，缺点 | |
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fret
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| v.(使)烦恼；(使)焦急；(使)腐蚀，(使)磨损 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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obituary
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| n.讣告，死亡公告；adj.死亡的 | |
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memoir
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| n.[pl.]回忆录，自传；记事录 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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presentiment
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| n.预感，预觉 | |
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awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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quotation
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| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
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disorders
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| n.混乱( disorder的名词复数 )；凌乱；骚乱；（身心、机能）失调 | |
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imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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orphaned
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| [计][修]孤立 | |
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systematic
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| adj.有系统的，有计划的，有方法的 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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arduous
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| adj.艰苦的，费力的，陡峭的 | |
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patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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monasteries
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| 修道院( monastery的名词复数 ) | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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coffins
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| n.棺材( coffin的名词复数 )；使某人早亡[死，完蛋，垮台等]之物 | |
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shrines
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| 圣地，圣坛，神圣场所( shrine的名词复数 ) | |
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marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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regiments
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| （军队的）团( regiment的名词复数 )； 大量的人或物 | |
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manifesto
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| n.宣言，声明 | |
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anthem
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| n.圣歌，赞美诗，颂歌 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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accede
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| v.应允，同意 | |
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jolting
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| adj.令人震惊的 | |
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conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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recur
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| vi.复发，重现，再发生 | |
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stimulate
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| vt.刺激，使兴奋；激励，使…振奋 | |
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champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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sips
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| n.小口喝，一小口的量( sip的名词复数 )v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的第三人称单数 ) | |
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alluding
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| 提及，暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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enamel
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| n.珐琅，搪瓷，瓷釉；(牙齿的)珐琅质 | |
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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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