and Uncle Serge objected: such a wedding was not suitable for a tsar of Russia, they said, the tsar had to be married in Petersburg, with appropriate grandeur and solemnity, and in
the presence of the entire court.
The argument went back and forth, with the weak, anguished Minnie supporting Nicky and Alix attempting to avoid taking sides. To marry in a season of mourning, with a sombre trousseau and with
the wedding guests wearing black, was far from what she had been expecting only a few weeks earlier. To have her wedding be the occasion of family conflict was equally unforeseen – and
dismaying. She had to feel her way through the labyrinth of conflicting loyalties, trying not to give offence, aware that sharp criticism, even ostracism, by other family members was the risk she
ran.
She observed that Sandro, Xenia’s husband, was treated with coldness by the rest of the family. Minnie in particular disliked him,and had done so ever since his
wedding to Xenia a few months earlier. He had given offence by making demands, making himself and his needs conspicuous. He had not been able to ease himself gracefully, self-effacingly, into the
family community. He was being punished, silently but unmistakably. The feeling against him was strong and unpleasant. 10
The last thing Alix wanted was to trigger the same reaction among those who were about to become her in-laws. She made an effort to hold herself aloof from the struggles and conflicts –
only to be criticized, behind her back, for her hauteur. 11
The effort to be both helpful and self-effacing cost Alix a good deal, for her leg pains had returned and she was suffering. Another young woman, in pain and surrounded by turmoil, suddenly
finding herself on the threshold of marriage to a weak, hesitant ruler who seemed incapable of fulfilling his responsibilities might have had second thoughts and fled. But Alix stood firm.
Nicky’s weakness, which she saw only too clearly, made her strength all the more necessary. Or, rather, she would be his strength. Where he faltered, she would step into the breach. She had
given him her pledge. To love him, to help him was her sacred duty. She would follow him into the maw of hell itself.
If Alix pondered, as the funeral journey got under way, what the future was likely to hold for her as wife of the new tsar, she seems to have kept her thoughts to herself. To voice misgivings
would after all have been disloyal. But she must have perceived, in that November of 1894, the depths of her fiancé’s ineffectuality, and she must have wondered how, if he was unable
even to manage the arrangements for his father’s funeral, he would be able to govern Russia.
The imperial train carrying the late tsar’s body made the journey from Sebastopol to Petersburg in slow stages, stopping often so that prayers could be repeated and services held. In
Moscow, the emperor’s remains were on view for three days, while his mourning subjects came to pay their respects. Then it was on to Petersburg for the final lying in state in the cathedral
in the Peter and Paul Fortress.
There in the dim interior of the vast cathedral, amid the thousands of glowing candles, Alix knelt in her black crepe veil to repeat the service for the dead. Her legs
were stiff and sore, her hands and face cold – for there was no heat in the draughty church, apart from that given off by the candles. The services went on for hours, and more than one
worshipper, including Alix’s waiting lady Gretchen von Fabrice, fainted. But Alix held on, moved by the dramatic rise and fall of voices in the choir, by the chanted prayers and the
overpowering scent of incense.
She was a daughter of the Orthodox church now, she had made her formal profession of faith. She was one with Nicky in faith, as she would soon be one with him in marriage. In a week she would
become his bride – the ‘funeral bride’, they were calling her in the streets of Petersburg.
The choir began
the presence of the entire court.
The argument went back and forth, with the weak, anguished Minnie supporting Nicky and Alix attempting to avoid taking sides. To marry in a season of mourning, with a sombre trousseau and with
the wedding guests wearing black, was far from what she had been expecting only a few weeks earlier. To have her wedding be the occasion of family conflict was equally unforeseen – and
dismaying. She had to feel her way through the labyrinth of conflicting loyalties, trying not to give offence, aware that sharp criticism, even ostracism, by other family members was the risk she
ran.
She observed that Sandro, Xenia’s husband, was treated with coldness by the rest of the family. Minnie in particular disliked him,and had done so ever since his
wedding to Xenia a few months earlier. He had given offence by making demands, making himself and his needs conspicuous. He had not been able to ease himself gracefully, self-effacingly, into the
family community. He was being punished, silently but unmistakably. The feeling against him was strong and unpleasant. 10
The last thing Alix wanted was to trigger the same reaction among those who were about to become her in-laws. She made an effort to hold herself aloof from the struggles and conflicts –
only to be criticized, behind her back, for her hauteur. 11
The effort to be both helpful and self-effacing cost Alix a good deal, for her leg pains had returned and she was suffering. Another young woman, in pain and surrounded by turmoil, suddenly
finding herself on the threshold of marriage to a weak, hesitant ruler who seemed incapable of fulfilling his responsibilities might have had second thoughts and fled. But Alix stood firm.
Nicky’s weakness, which she saw only too clearly, made her strength all the more necessary. Or, rather, she would be his strength. Where he faltered, she would step into the breach. She had
given him her pledge. To love him, to help him was her sacred duty. She would follow him into the maw of hell itself.
If Alix pondered, as the funeral journey got under way, what the future was likely to hold for her as wife of the new tsar, she seems to have kept her thoughts to herself. To voice misgivings
would after all have been disloyal. But she must have perceived, in that November of 1894, the depths of her fiancé’s ineffectuality, and she must have wondered how, if he was unable
even to manage the arrangements for his father’s funeral, he would be able to govern Russia.
The imperial train carrying the late tsar’s body made the journey from Sebastopol to Petersburg in slow stages, stopping often so that prayers could be repeated and services held. In
Moscow, the emperor’s remains were on view for three days, while his mourning subjects came to pay their respects. Then it was on to Petersburg for the final lying in state in the cathedral
in the Peter and Paul Fortress.
There in the dim interior of the vast cathedral, amid the thousands of glowing candles, Alix knelt in her black crepe veil to repeat the service for the dead. Her legs
were stiff and sore, her hands and face cold – for there was no heat in the draughty church, apart from that given off by the candles. The services went on for hours, and more than one
worshipper, including Alix’s waiting lady Gretchen von Fabrice, fainted. But Alix held on, moved by the dramatic rise and fall of voices in the choir, by the chanted prayers and the
overpowering scent of incense.
She was a daughter of the Orthodox church now, she had made her formal profession of faith. She was one with Nicky in faith, as she would soon be one with him in marriage. In a week she would
become his bride – the ‘funeral bride’, they were calling her in the streets of Petersburg.
The choir began
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