The selection of the _vospitatiet_ was thus a vital matter. The direction which Alexis Nicolaïevitch’s education would take depended upon him, and I awaited his appointment with considerable anxiety.
JOURNEYS TO THE CRIMEA AND RUMANIA--PRESIDENT POINCARÉ’S VISIT--DECLARATION OF WAR BY GERMANY
In the spring of 1914 the Imperial family went to the Crimea, as in preceding years. We arrived at Livadia on April 13th, a bright, sunny day. In fact, we were almost dazzled by the sunshine, which bathed the high, steep cliffs, the little Tartar villages half buried in the bare sides of the mountains, and the staring white mosques which stood out sharply against the old cypresses in the cemeteries. The contrast with the landscapes we had just left was so striking that, although this new country was familiar, it seemed quite fairylike and unreal in its wondrous beauty under this halo of sunshine.
These spring days in the Crimea were a delicious relief after the interminable St. Petersburg winter, and we looked forward to them months before they came.
On the excuse of settling in, we all took holiday the first few days, and used it to enjoy this marvel of nature to the full. Then regular lessons were resumed. My colleague, M. Petroff, accompanied us as before.
Alexis Nicolaïevitch’s health had improved in recent months; he had grown a good deal, and he looked so well that we were all in high spirits.
On May 8th the Czar, wishing to give his son a treat, decided that we should take advantage of a day which promised to be particularly sunny to pay a visit to the “Red Rock.” We left in a car, the party comprising the Czar, the Czarevitch, an officer from the _Standard_, and myself. The sailor Derevenko and the cossack on duty followed in another car. We gradually ascended the slopes of the Jaila mountains through beautiful forests of pine-trees, whose enormous trunks rose tall and majestic to the leafy dome above them. We soon reached the end of our journey--a huge rock sheer above the valley, and looking as if it had grown rusty in the course of ages.
The day was so fine that the Czar decided to continue the drive. We descended the northern slopes of the Jaila mountains. There was still plenty of snow about, and Alexis Nicolaïevitch had huge fun sliding on it. He ran round us, skipping about, rolling in the snow and picking himself up, only to fall again a few seconds later. It seemed as if his lively nature and _joie de vivre_ had never been displayed to better advantage before. The Czar watched his son’s frolics with obvious pleasure. You could see how happy he was to realise that the boy had recovered the health and strength of which he had been deprived so long. Yet he was still haunted by the fear of accidents, and every now and then he intervened to moderate his transports. Although he never so much as referred to the disease to which the Heir was a victim, it caused him perpetual anxiety and concern.