They made an interesting foursome: two Grand Dukes and two of the best-known women in Europe — both the mothers of illegitimate children, with the dainty but dazzling Kschessinska admired as the celebrated prima ballerina assoluta, the younger and beautiful Natasha known as the most notorious woman in high society; each was outrageous and what made them more so was that each was clearly adored by the two proud Grand Dukes hovering around them. Society, pretending to look the other way, could only stare in wonderment.
They were back in England in time to offer ‘open house’ at Knebworth to the stars of Diaghilev’s famed Ballets Russes, then taking London by storm. They had already conquered Paris, Berlin, Rome, Vienna and Budapest and had done much the same when they came to London in 1911. Their return in 1914 was eagerly awaited, and Natasha invited the dancers en bloc to Knebworth, along with the stars of the Russian opera who also were appearing as part of the ‘Russian season’ at Drury Lane.
Her old friend Chaliapin, who had visited them in Cannes after their marriage, was among them. Another guest was the celebrated Russian sculptor and stage designer Sudeikin, whose ‘thank you’ was a bust of Michael, George and Tata.21
Natasha was in her element in those days at Knebworth, when the house rang with laughter and music and no one went to bed until the early hours. ‘On the morning after the parties, the gardeners were not allowed to start work near the house, so as to leave undisturbed the slumber of the guests, who would eventually arise, yawning, just in time for lunch’.22
The ‘Russian season’ in London that summer also included a good number of St Petersburg royals, including the Dowager Empress. Michael’s sister Xenia also came with her husband Sandro to stay at the Piccadilly Hotel, and they were followed by Xenia’s daughter Irina and her new young husband Prince Felix Yusupov, who owned an apartment at 15 Parkside, Belgravia. As summer wore on, the Russian imperial contingent increased when Grand Duchess George Mikhailovich, Sandro’s sister-in-law arrived at Claridge’s with her two daughters, bringing to nine the number of Romanovs in London, in addition to Michael and Miche-Miche.
Michael met them all, including his mother at Marlborough House where, as usual on her many visits to England, she was staying with her widowed sister Alexandra, now the Dowager Queen. Among the other Romanovs there was nothing but sympathy and concern for Michael, and sighs at the venom of Alexandra’s court at Tsarskoe Selo.
No, of course he should not have married her, but yes, he had been put in an impossible position. At least that was all over, and he could make a new life for himself. Unfortunately, they would not be able to meet her. They were sure Michael understood that: no point in stirring up a family row. Not in London, and not with the Dowager Empress in town.
Michael could not complain about that, and nor could Natasha. The ‘season’ was not a place for a divorcée at the best of times — barred from the Royal Enclosure at Ascot races, barred from balls at Buckingham Palace, and effectively barred from any grand table likely to be dined at by a royal. With their days in top hats and designer dresses, their evenings in white-tie and ballgowns, the only outside event that anyone noticed was that on June 29 the London newspapers were reporting the assassination in Sarajevo of the heir to the Austrian throne, Archduke Franz-Ferdinand.
It was a brief sensation before society got back to the serious business of parties and balls, not least the great State Ball at Buckingham Palace, fixed for July 16, when the grandest people, including Miche-Miche and Countess Torby, but predictably not Michael and Natasha, would be present.23
This would be followed by racing at Goodwood and by the regatta at Cowes, which Prince Henry of Prussia, brother of the Kaiser and brother-in-law of Empress Alexandra, would be attending in his steam yacht Carmen.
German royals were as prominent as the Russian royals in London in the last summer of old Europe. At the State Ball the most distinguished guests included the Tecks, Battenbergs, Saxe-Coburg-Gothas, and Schleswig-Holsteins, all closely related to the British royal family, as were the Russian imperial family. That ball in Buckingham Palace would be the last time old Europe danced the quadrille. Three weeks later, the world exploded.
THE news that Germany had declared war on Russia came to Knebworth on Saturday August 1, 1914 — July 19 in Russia. Michael, determined to return to the army, cabled Nicholas at once asking permission for both he and Natasha to return. Alexandra was opposed to ‘that woman’ ever setting foot in Russia again, but there was larger problems to worry about now, and just as promptly Nicholas cabled back his agreement. At Knebworth, Michael’s private war would now have to be set aside for the greater duty of serving his country. For both Michael and Natasha their brief peace was over.
There was much to do in the next frantic days. With some Moscow friends who had joined them in Knebworth there were twenty people seeking to get back to Russia, including secretaries, governesses, valets and servants. The best route home was across the North Sea to Norway, thence through Sweden and Finland to St. Petersburg. A ship was found, the s.s. Venus, which could accommodate the whole party, and it was leaving from Newcastle, 200 miles north on the River Tyne.24
The lease on Knebworth was to end in September, when they were due to move to Lord Cowdray’s Paddockhurst estate in Sussex. Although he would not now be moving there himself, Michael still needed a property in England to house his possessions from Knebworth— furniture, paintings, books, linen, cars and horses. Besides, no one expected the war — which Britain joined on August 4 — to last very long. A year perhaps, or maybe less? Certainly it would be no longer than their two-year lease, so Paddockhurst would be home when they came back. In the meantime, he would entrust the care of that estate to Mr Bennett, the head groom he had hired at Knebworth. The only Russian who would stay behind was Mme Johnson, mother of Michael’s new secretary. Having been terrified by the stormy crossing of the English Channel in her journey to Britain, she could not face the prospect of another and much longer sea journey; she would stay behind and help to manage the house. After all, they would all be back soon.25
On Thursday, August 13, Michael went up to Buckingham Palace to say goodbye to his cousin King George. Just over two weeks earlier the king had met another cousin, Prince Henry of Prussia, hurrying home from the yachting regatta at Cowes as the Balkans crisis deepened. It was a gloomy meeting, with the king grimly predicting that if war came it was almost certain that Britain would be ‘dragged into it.’26 Now it was Michael’s turn, and a more cheerful handshake, for at least they were on the same side. But as with Henry, the farewell would also prove to be goodbye. King George would never see either cousin again.
With that, Michael and his party prepared to depart Knebworth the following day. All the servants, together with the local villagers, gathered together to wave them farewell as they began the first leg of their journey home. That Friday evening they boarded the s.s. Venus and escorted by British destroyers sailed off to Norway. Once there, the party crossed over to Sweden then travelled on to Finland. A week after leaving Knebworth they were back in St. Petersburg — now renamed Petrograd, patriotic sentiment having deemed that Petersburg sounded too German.
Michael’s mother the Dowager Empress had also returned to Russia, but after a more eventful journey.
She had left London hurriedly, travelling with daughter Xenia through Germany; by the time the train reached Berlin the war had already started. Hostile crowds broke the windows of her carriage and tore down the blinds, until police intervened. On orders from the Kaiser, her train was allowed to continue on to neutral Denmark, and from there she got back via Sweden and Finland.27