Such tense times back then... no one knew someone would do something thay cruel to Nicholas II and his wife, and children, and their doctor and cook, maid, valet and even little Jemmy in Anastasia's arms..
92 years ago a family was unawaringly fooled into thinking it was a safe smuggle, and they had high hopes albeit a bit anxious... but no they were murdered, murdered in cold blood, and buried in a unmarked grave with no proper burial or funeral, the most unjustified act someone could do to a murdered or deceased victim.
;(
God Bless all the Romanov's, and Hope they are happy where ever they are
92 years... has been a long long long time...
God Bless! Keep the Faith and memory alive!
God Save the Tsar!
In rememberance of July 17th 1918.... at quarter after ten, Alexandra marked in her diary about the temp. and turned the lights out for the last time ever.
Shortly after 1 a.m. the family, doctor, maid, valet, cook were all awakened, and told to dress quickly, that they were being transported... such a horrid excuse for a lie to them.
They were escorted calmly and coolly as if nothing was amiss, the girls, OTMA dressed in high-collared blouses, with red sweaters, and red skirts with black boots or shoes, their hair had grown to their shoulders, all but Olga wore it down, wearing each a pearl necklace that was personally there's, no earrings, nothing fancy about the clothes, but still all four beautiful as ever. The ex-Tsar, and ex-Empress were dressed as usual.Their eyes, all wanting of happiness and truth and freedom, Anastasia carried Jemmy, as the other's carried purses and pillows filled with jewels, They themselves wearing jeweled vests underneath their puffy, white blouses.
Nicholas wearing a pair of rusty military boots, and a khaki military suit He was always seen in, a cross medal he was fond of, and a military forage cap, with the Imperial Cockade still emblazoned on the front of the visor-ed cap. He wore his ring, and his moustache and hair graying but not as much as the Empress, who was very graying, but both still beautiful as ever...
Alexandra always a vision in white no matter rain nor shine, wore a floor length, flowing pure white, or cream-coloured gown, with a pearl or gem brooche at her neck around a lacy frilly colllar, she also wore her pearl ropes, and her favourite pair of pearl earrings. Her hair was as much as it usually was seen as, never changing, the same parted style, the same loving touch to her self-image, Her bracelets, and a few rings were all she had left... But the secret hiding of the jewels of her way out... hidden under flowing skirts....
Alexei was dressed like his Papa, who was carrying him, with a similar military uniform in colour, rusty boots, a forage cap with the Imperial Cockade also, He was too weak and ill to walk on his feeble legs, the poor boy was carried by his strong Papa, and carried down those steps.... His handsome little face now the face of a 13 year old ailing boy, his eyes so large so wanting of freedom...
The four suitors, The doctor and family physician Dr. Evgeny Botkin, was dressed in a civilian suit, with a cross medal at his neck-collar. He wore his glasses, and so loyal to his charges, He didn't know what was to befall him and everyone with him....
The chamber maid, Anna Demidova who was Alexandra's personal maid wearing her hair in the time and era's fashion, in a bouffant style, statuesque in her appearance, in maids gowns and frilly sleeves. Did she know of the fate herself, and the people with her, and the two pillows she clutched to her heart filled with boxes of jewels would never make it out of the room they were going to see the last of life?
The valet, Alexei Trupp, Nicholas II's personal valet, wearing a civilian suit and cross medal, his head balding, frail of age, leaning against the back wall of the small room covered in striped wallpaper of pale yellow shades, and its yellowing wooden floors... and the single lightbulb that only gave hopefulness to everybody, but shrouded the captors in surprising darkness...
The cook Ivan Kharitonov, still young, also in a civilian suit with a cross medal, his hair slicked back, his eyes darting about the room wondering what He was doing he for, Why he came, why they were here.... This room... seemed ominous...
Anastasia and her sisters crowding about their Papa, Mama, and dear little Sunbeam, poor little Jemmy tired but awake in Anastasia's arms... Olga anxious but feeling happy, her blue Romanov eyes searching for forgiveness of what ever is to happen...
Tatiana breaking a small smile, her grey-blue eyes dimmed, but still in high-spirits. Maria standing near the back doors, who would soon be banging in vain trying to get out, and break them down... standing idling her hands clutching a large pillow, her eyes still as luminous as ever....
This small room seemed alien to them, They knew not of what was to come, what was to happen, what was the reason.. but only of transport.. They wanted freedom, they hoped for it.. but freedom is not what they got...
Freedom was far from what they were given...
He reads the paper...
and then it begins...
Crossing them selves, saying prayers, some in shock...
Crimson, flying every which way, shock and petrifying eyes know no more...
All ended in violence, a world gone forever...
Hope this isn't too intense.. or vivid..
I thought it was a good dedication to the Romanov's and their suitors, who were murdered July 17th, 1918...
Keep the Faith and Memories alive!
~I-TsarevichAlexei13 ;'(
