the wreckage, she was in critical condition. Her legs had been crushed by the coils of a steam radiator; a steel girder had fallen across her face and pinned her head; her skull and her spine were badly injured. At the hospital where she was taken, a surgeon declared, “Do not disturb her. She is dying.” Nicholas and Alexandra came to her bedside and waited helplessly for the end. Rasputin, quite out of touch, did not hear about the accident until the following day. When he did, he jumped up from his table and drove straight to the hospital in a car lent to him by Countess Witte. When he entered the room, Anna was in a delirium, murmuring, “Father Gregory, pray for me,” while the Tsar and the Empress stood by. Rasputin strode to Anna’s side, took her hand and called out “Annushka! Annushka! Annushka!”
The third time he called, Anna slowly opened her eyes.
Rasputin ordered her, “Now wake up and rise.”
She made an effort to get up.
“Speak to me,” he commanded.
She spoke in a feeble voice.
“She will recover, but she will remain a cripple,” said Rasputin, turning to the others. Then he staggered from the room and collapsed in a wave of dizziness and perspiration.
Exactly as Rasputin had predicted, Anna recovered but thereafter moved only on crutches or in a wheelchair. Her devotion to Rasputin became unquestioning. Convinced that he was sent by Heaven to save the Imperial family, she dedicated herself to assisting Rasputin in his mission. Acting as intermediary, she did everything in her power to smooth over differences between her mistress and the
In Alexandra, the episode overwhelmingly revived her conviction that Rasputin was a true saint capable of accomplishing miracles. Utterly convinced herself, she did her utmost to transfer her conviction to Nicholas. “No, harken unto Our Friend,” she wrote in June 1915. “Believe him. He has your interest and Russia’s at heart. It is not for nothing God sent him to us, only we must pay more attention to what He says. His words are not lightly spoken and the importance of having not only his prayers but his advice is great.… I am haunted by Our Friend’s wish and know it will be fatal for us and for the country if not fulfilled. He means what he says when he speaks so seriously.” In September 1916: “I fully trust in our Friend’s wisdom, endowed by God to counsel what is right for you and our country. He sees far ahead and therefore his judgement can be relied upon.”
One block from the Fontanka Canal, at 64 Gorokhovaya Street in Petrograd, stood the building where Rasputin lived during these crucial years, 1914–1916. A five-story brick apartment house, entered through a small paved courtyard, with a concierge’s room at the foot of the wide stairs, it was architecturally similar to thousands of buildings erected in that era in Paris, London, Berlin or New York. Socially, there was nothing distinguished about the house of the Imperial favorite. Rasputin’s neighbors were working people: a clerk, a seamstress, a masseuse. The staircase was thick with pungent smells: leather, sheepskin coats, thick clouds of cabbage soup and the rancid odor of hot sheep’s cheese.
Rasputin’s apartment on the third floor of this building was surprisingly small and sedate. It consisted of five rooms. “The bedroom … was small and very simply furnished,” wrote Prince Felix Yussoupov, who often visited Rasputin. “In a corner close to the wall was a narrow bed with a red fox bedspread, a present from Anna Vyrubova. Near the bed was a big chest of painted wood; in the opposite corner were lamps which burned before a small icon. Portraits of the Tsar and Tsarina hung on the walls along with crude engravings representing biblical scenes.” [In the dining room] “water was boiling in the samovar; on the tables were a number of plates filled with biscuits, cakes and nuts; glass bowls contained jam and fruit and other delicacies; in the center stood a great basket of flowers. The furniture was of massive oak, the chairs had very high backs, a bulky dresser full of crockery took up most of one wall. There were a few badly-painted pictures. A bronze chandelier with glass shades lighted the table. The flat had an air of middle-class solidity.”
Here, on days when he had not been drinking late, Rasputin rose early and went to Mass. By the time he returned for a breakfast of bread and tea, the first of his petitioners already was climbing the stairs. Rasputin’s influence at court brought him people from all walks of life: bankers, bishops, officers, society women, actresses, adventurers and speculators, peasant girls, old women who had traveled miles simply to get his blessing. The callers came in such numbers that many had to wait in line on the staircase. Outside, the curb was lined with the automobiles of important people visiting Rasputin.
If Rasputin liked a visitor and decided to help, he took his pen and scrawled a few clumsy lines: “My dear and valued friend. Do this for me. Gregory.” These scraps of paper, carrying the aura of great connections, were often all that was needed to obtain a position, win a promotion, delay a transfer or confirm a contract. Some of these notes, attached to petitions, went straight to the Empress, who forwarded them to the Tsar. Because Mosolov was head of the Court Secretariat, Rasputin’s notes often arrived on his desk. “All were drawn up the same way,” he wrote, “a little cross at the top of the page, then one or two lines giving a recommendation from the
Usually, because he wrote poorly and slowly, Rasputin did not bother to name the service to be performed, leaving it to the petitioner to supply these details. Often, he did not even name the addressee, assuming that the petitioner would place it in the most appropriate hands. Eventually, to save time, Rasputin made up a supply of these notes in advance. As his petitioners arrived, he simply handed them out.
In return for his services, Rasputin accepted whatever his visitors might offer. Financiers and wealthy women put bundles of money on the table and Rasputin stuffed them into his drawers without bothering to count. If his next petitioner was a person in need, he might pull out the whole bundle and give it away. He had little need of money himself; his flat was simple, most of his wines and foods were brought as gifts. His only real interest in acquiring money was to accumulate a dowry for his daughter Maria, who was in school in Petrograd and lived in a room in his apartment.
For pretty women, there were other methods of payment. Many an attractive visitor, thinking she could win his help with words and smiles, rushed suddenly out of his apartment, weeping or trembling with rage. Helped down the stairs, she went off to the police station to complain that Rasputin had tried to rape her. There, her name and the circumstances of her plight were duly noted, but Father Gregory was never punished.
Along with his droves of petitioners, another cluster of people attended faithfully on Rasputin. Day after day, in front of the house, in the concierge’s lodge and on the stairs leading to Rasputin’s door, lounged a squad of detectives. They had a double function: to guard the
November 2: “An unknown woman visited Rasputin in order to try to prevent her husband, a lieutenant at present in hospital, from being transferred from St. Petersburg.… [She said] ‘A servant opened the door to me and showed me to a room where Rasputin, whom I had never seen before, appeared immediately. He told me at once to take off my clothes. I complied with his wish, and went with him into an adjoining room. He hardly listened to my request; but kept on touching my face and breasts and asking me to kiss him. Then he wrote a note but did not give it to me, saying that he was displeased with me and bidding me to come back next day.”
December 3: “Madame Likart visited Rasputin … to ask him to intervene on her husband’s behalf. Rasputin proposed that she should kiss him; she refused, however, and departed. Then the mistress of Senator Mamontov arrived. Rasputin asked her to return at 1 a.m.”
January 29: “The wife of Colonel Tatarinov visited Rasputin and … the
The staircase watch was maintained at night as well as by day, and the police kept track of Rasputin’s evening companions: “Maria Gill, the wife of a Captain in the 145th Regiment, slept at Rasputin’s.… About 1 a.m.
