HTML MakerThe words of those who knew Grand Duchess Olga Romanova.
On this page you will find the words of: Woronoff, Vyrubova, Dehn, Mossolov, Bitner, Kobylinsky, Buxhoeveden, Gilliard, Gibbes, Yurovsky.
Olga Woronoff
The eldest, Olga, was very intelligent and gay and had a heart of gold; but she was also rather timid, so that her sister Tatiana, who was much more sociable, was easier to get on with at first.
Anna Vyrubova
Olga and Marie were essentially Russian, altogether Romanov in their inheritance. Olga was perhaps the cleverest of them all, her mind being so quick to grasp ideas, so absorbent of knowledge that she learned almost without application or close study. Her chief characteristics, I should say, were a strong will and a singularly straightforward habit of thought and action. Admirable qualities in a woman, these same characteristics are often trying in childhood, and Olga as a little girl sometimes showed herself willful and even disobedient. She had a hot temper which, however, she early learned to keep under control, and had she been allowed to live her natural life she would, I believe, have become a woman of influence and distinction. Extremely pretty, with brilliant blue eyes and a lovely complexion, Olga resembled her father in the fineness of her features, especially in her delicate, slightly tipped nose.
Lili Dehn
The Grand Duchess Olga was the eldest of these four fair sisters. She was a most amiable girl, and people loved her from the moment they set eyes on her. As a child she was plain, at fifteen she was beautiful. She was slightly above middle height, with a fresh complexion, deep blue eyes, quantities of light chestnut hair, and pretty hands and feet. She took life seriously, and she was a clever girl with a sweet disposition. I think she possessed unusual strength of character, and at one time she was mentioned as a possible bride for the Crown Prince of Roumania. But the Grand Duchess did not like him, and, as the Crown Prince liked the Grand Duchess Marie better than her sister, nothing came of the project.
A.A. Mossolov
Olga was at seventeen already quite a young lady, but she still behaved like a girl. She had beautiful light hair, her face— a wide oval— was purely Russian, not particularly regular, but her remarkably delicate colouring and her pretty smile, which disclosed remarkably even, white teeth, gave her a great freshness. ... Olga’s character was even, good, with an almost angelic kindness.
Klavdia Bitner
I loved Olga Nikolaevna much more [than Tatiana]. She inherited many of her father's traits. Her tenderness and her entire being also gave me a "charming" impression of a sweet, good Russian girl. She did not like housework. She loved solitude and books. She was well-read. In general, she was developed. It seems to me that she understood her position much more than anyone else in the family and was aware of its danger. She cried terribly when her father and mother left Tobolsk.
Maybe she was aware of something then. She gave me the impression of a person who had gone through something badly. Sometimes she would laugh, but you felt that her laughter was coming from above, but deep down inside, she was not laughing at all, but sad. Just like her father, she was simple and kind, considerate and welcoming with everyone around her. She seemed to love Maria Nikolaevna more than anyone else.
Eugene Kobylinsky
The Grand Duchess Olga was a nice looking young blonde, about twenty-three; her type was Russian. She was fond of reading, capable and mentally well developed; spoke English well and German badly. She had some talent for art, played the piano, sang, (she learned singing in Petrograd; her voice was soprano), and she painted well. She was very modest and did not care for luxury.
Her clothes were modest and she restrained her sisters from extravagance in dress. She gave altogether the impression of a good, generous-hearted Russian girl. It looked as if she had had some sorrows in her life and still carried traces of it. It seemed to me that she loved her father more than she loved her mother. She also loved her brother, and called him “The Little One” or “The Baby.”
Sophie Buxhoeveden
The eldest, the Grand Duchess Olga Nicolaevna, was fair and tall, with smiling blue eyes, a somewhat short nose, which she called ‘my humble snub,’ and lovely teeth. She had a remarkably graceful figure and was a beautiful rider and dancer. She was the cleverest of the sisters, and was very musical, having, her teachers said, an ‘absolutely correct ear.’ She could play by ear anything she had heard, and could transpose complicated pieces of music, play the most difficult accompaniments at sight, and her touch on the piano was delightful. She sang prettily in a mezzosoprano. She was lazy at practising, but when the spirit moved her she would play by the hour.
Olga Nicolaevna was very straightforward, sometimes too outspoken, but always sincere. She had great charm, and could be the merriest of the merry. When she was a schoolgirl, her unfortunate teachers had every possible practical joke played on them by her. When she grew up, she was always ready for amusement. She was generous, and an appeal to her met with immediate response. “Oh, one must help poor so-and-so. I must do it somehow,” she would say. Her more careful sister, Tatiana, would suggest practical measures, would note names and details, and come back to the subject later, out of duty.
Olga Nicolaevna was devoted to her father. The horror of the Revolution told on her more keenly than on any of the others. She changed completely, and her bright spirits disappeared.
Pierre Gilliard
The eldest, Olga Nicolaïevna, possessed a remarkably quick brain. She had good reasoning powers as well as initiative, a very independent manner, and a gift for swift and entertaining repartee. She gave me a certain amount of trouble at first, but our early skirmishes were soon succeeded by relations of frank cordiality.
She picked up everything extremely quickly, and always managed to give an original turn to what she learned. I well remember how, in one of our first grammar lessons, when I was explaining the formation of the verbs and the use of the auxiliaries, she suddenly interrupted me with:
"I see, monsieur. The auxiliaries are the servants of the verbs. It's only poor 'avoir' which has to shift for itself."
She read a good deal apart from her lessons. When she grew older, every time I gave her a book I was very careful to indicate by notes in the margin the passages or chapters she was to leave out. I used to give her a summary of these. The reason I put forward was the difficulty of the text or the fact that it was uninteresting.
An omission of mine cost me one of the most unpleasant moments in my professional career, but, thanks to the Czar's presence of mind, the incident ended better than I could have hoped.
Olga Nicolaïevna was reading "Les Miserables," and had reached the description of the battle of Waterloo. At the beginning of the letter she handed me a list of the words she had not understood, in accordance with our practice.
What was my astonishment to see in it the word which is forever associated with the name of the officer who commanded the Guard. I felt certain I had not forgotten my usual precautions. I asked for the book to verify my marginal note, and realised my omission. To avoid a delicate explanation I struck out the wretched word and handed back the list to the Grand-Duchess.
She cried, "Why, you've struck out the word I asked papa about yesterday!" I could not have been more thunderstruck if the bolt had fallen at my feet.
"What! You asked your—”
"Yes, and he asked me how I'd heard of it, and then said it was a very strong word which must not be repeated, though in the mouth of that general it was the finest word in the French language." A few hours later I met the Czar when I was out walking in the park. He took me on one side and said in a very serious tone:
"You are teaching my daughters a very curious vocabulary, monsieur..
I floundered in a most involved explanation. But the Czar burst out laughing, and interrupted:
"Don't worry, monsieur. I quite realised what happened, so I told my daughter that the word was one of the French army's greatest claims to fame." ...
... Their mother, whom they adored, was, so to speak, infallible in their eyes. Olga Nicolaïevna alone showed occasional traces of independence. ... With the exception of Olga Nicolaïevna, the Grand-Duchesses were very moderate pupils. ... Olga Nicolaïevna did not fulfill the hopes I had set upon her. Her fine intellect failed to find the elements necessary to its development. Instead of making progress she began to go back. Her sisters had ever had but little taste for learning, their gifts being of the practical order.
Sydney Gibbes
The Grand Duchess Olga Nicholaevna was about twenty-three years old, she was fair and had the lightest hair in the family. After her illness she got much thinner. She had beautiful blue eyes. All her personality was seen in her eyes. She was straight, just, honest, simple, sincere and kind. She was easily irritated and her manners were a little harsh. She was a good musician. She had a talent for music. She composed, though I do not think she wrote poetry. I believe that Hendrikova wrote some poetry, as she was well able to do. The Grand Duchess Olga was very modest. She liked simplicity and did not pay much attention to dress. Her morals reminded me of those of her father. She was very religious and it seems to me that she loved her father more than anybody else.
Yakov Yurovsky
While I was repairing the well, Nicholas came closer to me and made some sort of a comment, but I did not sustain a conversation. Once, while walking, Olga chattered up one of the Letts and asked him where he had served. He replied that he served in one of the Grenadier regiments, where during a military review he saw the tsar's daughters. Olga turned to Nicholas, with the exclamation: "Papa, this is one of your Grenadiers". He [Nicholas] approached and said, "Greetings", evidently hoping to hear "Wishing you health" [customary military response], but only received a simple hello. Long after that a Lett comrade reported that he did not get the chance to talk, because I came over and the conversation ended.
(From the Private Presidential Archives of the Russian Federation, APRF f.3 op 58 d. 280, accessed through Alexander Palace Time Machine)
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