An article about an 18-year-old Russian woman who landed in Manila in flight from the Bolsheviks appeared on Page 1 in the Inquirer (May 13-14, 2012). The material is controversial and requires comment if only to disabuse the minds of some readers of the possibility, as insinuated in the article, that this woman could have been the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna, youngest daughter of Russia’s last emperor, Czar Nicholas II Romanov and his wife, Alexandra.
In truth, the article is a fanciful tale based on wistful imaginings that are belied by conclusively and unequivocally established facts. Anastasia was executed on July 17, 1918, along with her parents; her sisters, the Grand Duchesses Olga, Tatiana and Maria; her sickly, hemophilic brother, Alexei, heir to the imperial throne; and four members of the family staff. The execution was carried out in the basement of the Ipatiev house, also ominously called the House of Special Purpose, in Yekaterinburg, a city on the slopes of the Ural Mountains near the Euro-Asian border.
Yekaterinburg
The communists, who ruled Russia after Nicolas abdicated the throne early in 1917, had billeted the Romanovs in Yekaterinburg to await trial that was to take place in Moscow. But circumstances made it necessary for the Romanovs, as well as the faithful retainers who accompanied them in their exile, to be disposed of even in the absence of a trial. News that the enemy, the rabidly anticommunist White Russians, was swiftly approaching the city posed the possibility of a rescue.
The story of the execution and burial of the Romanovs is the subject of many reliable accounts available online. No doubt the most personal of these is Yakov Yurovski’s precise, quite ghastly, first-person account. Yurovski headed the security group assigned to guard the prisoners and personally led their execution. He wrote his account on Feb. 1, 1934, and submitted it to Moscow at around the same time.
In 1922, Yurovski also wrote notes on his life and participation in the execution. These notes point out that all the Romanovs, each named and identified—Anastasia included—and four loyal members of their staff (the family physician, valet, maid and cook) were killed, and leave absolutely no reason to believe that any family member survived. For over 70 years, these memoirs were kept in undisclosed archives and were first published only in 1993, two years after the fall of communism.
Executioner’s song
The following passage by Yurovski clears any doubt that all the Romanovs had been murdered:
“I alone led the family downstairs. Nikolai was carrying Alexei in his arms. The rest, some with pillows in their hands, some with other items, we came down to the lower level to a special room previously prepared. Alexandra Fedorovna asked for a chair, Nikolai asked for a chair for Alexei. I ordered that the chairs be brought. Alexandra Fedorovna sat down. Alexei as well. I suggested that everyone stand up. Everyone stood up, taking up the entire wall and one of the side walls. The room was very small. Nikolai stood with his back to me. I announced: the Executive Committee of Soviet Workers, Peasants and Soldier Deputies of the Urals carried [a decision] to shoot them. Nikolai turned around and asked (sic). I repeated the order and commanded, ‘Shoot.’ I shot first and killed Nikolai to drop (sic). The firing went on for a very long time, and despite my hopes that the wooden wall would not cause a ricochet, the bullets bounced off it. I was not able to stop this shooting for a long time, which took on a disorderly character. But when I finally was able to stop it, I realized that many were still alive. For instance, Dr. Botkin lay propped up on the elbow of his right arm, as if in a relaxed pose, a revolver shot finished him off, Alexei, Tatiana, Anastasia and Olga were still alive too. Also alive was Demidova. Com. Ermakov wanted to finish the job with a bayonet. However, this was not possible. The reason for this became clear later (the daughters had diamond armor [sewn] into their under bodices). I was forced to shoot each one in turn.”
Burying the dead
Yurovski also described how his security squad buried the bodies. Gun butting or bludgeoning with clubs were done to crack skulls and jaws, and acid was thrown to disfigure the bodies beyond any recognition. But finding the proper secret burial spot that would not be easily discovered was not easy. Vladimir Lenin, then leader of Russia’s communist government, wanted to keep news of the execution from reaching Germany’s Kaiser Wilhelm II, a cousin of the Czar. Lenin could not afford angering the Kaiser over the family’s demise as Russia had just signed a treaty ending the war between the two countries.
The bodies were first thrown into an old mine shaft but these could not be completely submerged in the water at the bottom of the shaft, so the disposal team tried to cause its walls to collapse by using explosives. When this did not work, the team retrieved the bodies with much difficulty and transported these to a nearby open field where a shallow grave was dug. Nine bodies—those of Nicolas, Alexandra, three grand duchesses, the family physician, valet, maid and cook—were buried in it.
Separating the bodies
Yurovski decided that the corpses of Alexei and one of the grand duchesses were not to be included in this grave so as to further conceal who were buried in the site. The two bodies were taken away, partially cremated and buried some 70 miles from the first, larger grave.
It was not until the late 1970s that a geologist from Yekaterinburg, Dr. Alexander Avdonin, discovered the larger grave. Realizing that the communists would not tolerate a revival of memories of the Romanovs, he kept the find a secret until the dismantling of the USSR in 1991, when the grave was re-excavated.
Serious forensic studies were conducted to identify the remains, and DNA tests proved that five of the bodies were those of Nicolas, Alexandra and their three daughters, two of whom were positively identified as Olga and Tatiana through skeletal analysis. The four other bodies were concluded to be those of the family physician and helpers.
Anastasia’s body
The last female body was presumed to be that of Anastasia but the tests did not positively prove this. Some foreign experts thought it was that of the older Maria, but Russian experts used computer programs to compare the questioned skull with photographs of Anastasia and concluded that the body was hers. American experts concluded that the body was indeed Anastasia’s, based on their own more sophisticated technology that showed, among others, wisdom teeth that had not descended and not fully formed spinal vertebrae and collar bone—signs of immaturity expected in a girl of 17, the age of Anastasia.
With five of the seven Romanovs identified, their remains were interred in 1998 in a formal state funeral and solemn Christian rites at St. Catherine Chapel of Saint Petersburg’s Peter and Paul Cathedral, where most Russian monarchs, including Peter the Great, are buried. The names inscribed on the graves were those of Nicolas, Alexandra, Olga, Tatiana and Anastasia. The ceremonies were televised worldwide, with President Boris Yeltsin leading the VIP guests.
Any question as to Anastasia’s identity was finally resolved in 2008 when the charred bodies of a young boy and a young girl were discovered in a grave not far from the first one. Russian forensic scientists on April 30, 2008, publicly declared that the remains thereon were those of Alexei and a Romanov grand duchess. In March 2009, the US Armed Forces’ DNA Identification Laboratory confirmed that final results of the tests it had conducted gave conclusive proof that the remains of the four girls in the two graves were those of the four Romanov grand duchesses.
Anna Anderson’s tale
The possibility of Anastasia having escaped execution led dozens of women to assert they were the grand duchess. Anna Anderson was the most believable, most flagrant and notorious of these claimants, but DNA tests finally showed she had no relation to the Romanovs. However, since the official statement that Anastasia was executed, no other similar claim has ever been made until this “possible” Anastasia who is being pictured as having lived in the Philippines for 80 years.
It is therefore sad that despite overwhelming evidence contradicting her “story,” Caty Petersen, the principal author of the article, decided to have it published. Neither does publishing it give much credit to the Inquirer, which could easily have checked the fact that Anastasia had long been dead at the time Ms Petersen’s grandma was living in Manila.
What is as sad, if not more so, is that Ms Petersen came to my house a few days before she submitted the article to the Inquirer to get my opinion on her story. Had she listened to the information I provided her on the impossibility of her grandmother being a Russian noble, much less Anastasia, she would not have, I believe, published her story.
Waste of time
Ms Petersen sought me out because she had heard that I had some knowledge of Russian history and might be able to help certify the possibility that her grandmother was Anastasia. I had indeed done some research on Russia, albeit more on the tragic and forgotten history of the 6,000 White Russian refugees who escaped from the communists and stayed for three years (1949-1952) in Tubabao Island, a part of the town of Guiuan in what is now Eastern Samar. This is especially significant because the Philippines was the only country who offered these exiles the refuge they so badly needed; all the other countries in the free world refused to help them.
It took me months to research on these White Russians. This included communicating with some of the surviving refugees who were now living in various other countries and a background on Czar Nicolas II, whose failed leadership led to the Russian Revolution and its civil war and the exodus of the White Russians from their country. The outcome of my research is what is considered among the most comprehensive histories of the refugees’ life in Tubabao. It was published in Rogue magazine and reprinted in other journals, often without my consent.
I was very frank in telling Ms Petersen that there was no possibility her grandmother could be Anastasia. I gave her many of the details narrated above and told her to forget her supposed mission to find out the truth about her grandmother as she was just wasting time.
Ricardo S. Soler contributes articles and short stories to several publications. His latest collection of short stories is titled “For Starters.” He is a director of the Philippine chapter of PEN International, the UK-based worldwide association of poets, essayists and novelists. He is also a member of the Manila Overseas Press Club and the Freelance Writers Guild. The research he did for his published short history of the harrowing plight of 6,000 White Russian refugees who were billeted in Tubabao Island in Guiuan, Eastern Samar, from 1949 to 1952 started his interest in Russian history.