OTMA: A Brief Introduction

Olga.
Tatiana.
Maria.
Anastasia.

The Romanov sisters began their days in a world of unending possibilities and resources and ended them in captivity. Their mother was Alexandra Feodorovna, born Alix of Hesse-Darmstadt, one of the favorite grandchildren of Queen Victoria. Their father was Nicholas II, the last emperor of Russia. As his four daughters, Olga, Tatiana, Maria, and Anastasia, they were grand duchesses, Imperial Highnesses. Even so, they were typically addressed by their names, rather than their titles: Olga Nikolaevna, Tatiana Nikolaevna, and so forth. However, the idea that they were never addressed as Imperial Highnesses by the servants and Palace staff is untrue; there are many letters from servants such as Anna Demidova (who would eventually die with them) that show that "Your Imperial Highness" was used, if only in writing.

According to the Pauline laws, only males could inherit the throne unless there were none available, but Alexandra and Nicholas seemed to be cursed with only daughters. The Romanov sisters were born one after the other: Olga in 1895, Tatiana in 1897, Maria in 1899, and Anastasia in 1901. It looked as if there would never be a son. The four girls, charming and winsome and delightful they might be, waving and smiling at passersby, were nevertheless confined to the ceremonial, perfunctory roles of grand duchesses, props for their dynasty. Their parents loved their four little cherubs, kissed them, scolded them, but always in their minds was the responsibility of bearing a boy. That boy finally came in 1904, when Alexei Nikolaevich was born. The light of the house, his sisters and parents alike adored him.

Nevertheless, the four daughters, charming and beguiling little girls, grew up into independent, thoughtful adolescents, separated into the Big Pair (Olga and Tatiana) and the Little Pair (Maria and Anastasia). Although the public considered them one unit, they were markedly different in both looks and character. Olga, whose features were considered irregular and less than beautiful, made up for it with her soft charm and poetic spirit; Tatiana, tall and imperious, was shy but social, with a practical, executive mind; Maria was the docile and obliging one, and yet even she displayed a sharp obstinacy; and Anastasia, often too energetic for those around her, was the family clown.

They were raised as simple Russian children, making their own beds and bathing in cold water. (Still, perfumed baths, the water softened with bran, were allowed in the evening; the daughters, like their mother, were addicted to perfumes. Olga's favorite was Rose Thé, Tatiana's Jasmine de Corse, Anastasia always used the scent of violette, while Maria more or less favored lilac.) During World War I, when Nicholas was away at the front, his daughters received his permission to use the pool in his study, and did so with the greatest delight. "I enjoyed myself like a pug-dog," Maria wrote excitedly.

After World War I broke out, and the empress, Olga, and Tatiana volunteered as Red Cross nurses, proudly going through the training like anyone else. Maria and Anastasia were considered too young to be nurses, but they helped out, playing games with the wounded and talking to them, eager to learn of life beyond the palace walls. Hospital work was not merely for show; doctors and nurses dealt with serious injuries and mutilations. Despite this, Tatiana persevered and was described by a doctor as one of of the most capable nurses he had ever seen. She impressed patients with her calm and firm, almost masculine manner while Olga was renowned for her kindness and sweetness. Nevertheless, Olga, her nerves exhausted by what she witnessed, developed anemia, and her work at the hospital was diminished to bandaging and administrative work while Tatiana progressed into surgeries and amputations. Both remained active in their relationships with their patients, falling in love with several men. Maria and Anastasia often visited their sisters, and the four would play games, such as ruble, into the night. Anastasia especially was adept at cheating.

The Russian Revolution eventually defeated the Romanovs. In March 1917, Nicholas abdicated, and they were placed under house arrest. Afterwards they were sent to Tobolsk. Nicholas was later sent to an unknown destination with Alexandra and Maria accompanying him, only to find out they were locked up in the revolutionary Urals, in Ekaterinburg at the Ipatiev House. Olga, Tatiana, Anastasia, Alexei, their doctor, and their remaining servants followed. The family made the best of it at the Ipatiev House. The daughters, especially Tatiana, tried to talk to the guards and win them over. Maria and Anastasia stuck together and played with their dogs. Olga was more reserved, keeping to herself and looking after her little brother. The isolation from the rest of the world, and the lack of news, frustrated the Romanovs, who often found that letters from their friends had not delivered. Even nicknames could come under suspicion, and cause the letters to have difficulty passing through: Julia Dehn, after sending letters signed with the affectionate nickname of Lili, was told to use instead her actual full name.

Eventually, on July 17, 1918, the Romanovs, their doctor, and their servants were led downstairs to the cellar. They did not understand what was happening to them. They assumed they were being transported out of Ekaterinburg. Instead, they were murdered. The sisters had some of the most painful deaths: Olga, Tatiana, and Anastasia had sewn jewels into their undergarments as an insurance policy. The bullets bounced off of them, or perhaps simply drove jewels into their flesh, and the bayonets had a hard time piercing them. They had to watch their loved ones die and to bear the agony of their own pain. Maria did not wear jewel-laced clothes because the jewels were sewn in at Tobolsk when she was already at Ekaterinburg. Nevertheless, she suffered equally, and was shot in the thigh as she flung herself against the locked door. Olga was knocked down by a bullet to the jaw. The others, too, were felled by bullets, but one daughter managed to survive until the bodies were being transported outside, when she came to consciousness with a scream. The guards turned on her with their bayonets until this last survivor fell silent. The lives of the Romanov sisters had ended.