As a result revolutionary events in Russia at the beginning of the twentieth century. many representatives of noble aristocratic families were forced to flee abroad. Many of them managed to found their own businesses in exile and glorify their names throughout Europe. In the 1920s fashion trendsetters in France were noble immigrants from Russia Irina and Felix Yusupov, who founded the fashion house “IrFe” (“Irfe”). Outfits in a luxurious aristocratic style were in great demand not only in Paris, but also in Berlin and London.
Princess Irina Romanova was the emperor's granddaughter Alexandra III, and Felix Yusupov belonged to ancient family, one of the richest in Russia. Their wedding took place in 1914. Grand Duchess Irina Romanova's wedding dress was luxurious, she wore a crystal tiara with diamonds and a veil made of precious lace from the 18th century - the same one in which Marie Antoinette married the French Prince Louis. Acquaintances whispered that this thing from the executed queen would bring misfortune to the newlyweds, but their union even without this caused surprise among many - at court everyone knew about Felix Yusupov’s unconventional orientation. But Irina did not listen to anyone - she loved her chosen one.
Judging by the entries in Felix’s Memoirs, he, too, was sincerely infatuated with the princess: “Compared with this new experience, all my previous hobbies turned out to be wretched. I understood the harmony of true feeling. ... I told her my whole life. Not at all shocked, she greeted my story with rare understanding. I understood what exactly disgusted me about female nature and why I was more drawn to the company of men. Women's pettiness, unscrupulousness and indirectness disgusted her in the same way. Irina, the only daughter, grew up with her brothers and happily avoided these unpleasant qualities.” Next to his wife, Felix, whom many considered a reveler and libertine, was transformed and settled down.
In December 1916, Felix Yusupov participated in the murder of Grigory Rasputin. He escaped punishment, but the family was forced to leave St. Petersburg. And soon the revolution broke out, for some time the Yusupovs lived on their estate in Crimea, and in 1919 they emigrated to France. In Russia, the Yusupovs had to leave 5 palaces, 14 apartment buildings, 30 estates, 3 factories and mines.
At first, the Yusupovs lived comfortably, selling jewelry that they managed to take out of Russia. But then they, like many other representatives of aristocratic families, were forced to look for additional sources earnings. Irina and Felix decided to open their own fashion house. In 1924, they carried out their plans and named their brainchild after the first two letters of their names - “Irfe”.
In 1925, the first reviews of their models appeared in French magazines: “Originality, refinement of taste, meticulousness of work and artistic vision of colors immediately placed this modest atelier in the rank of large fashion houses.” European and American clients were attracted by the opportunity to be dressed by their granddaughter Russian Emperor, many came to Irfe with the sole purpose of seeing the famous married couple. In his memoirs, the prince wrote that the clients “came out of curiosity and for exotic things. One demanded tea from the samovar. Another, an American, wanted to see the prince, who, according to rumors, had phosphorescent eyes like a predator.”
The entire staff of the Fashion House consisted of Russian emigrants, but none of them had any idea about the organization of work in the fashion industry. The tall, slender Princess Yusupova often acted as a fashion model and herself demonstrated models of the Irfe Fashion House.
And then it came The Great Depression, a crisis broke out, and the Yusupovs lost most capital invested in American banks and lost their wealthy US clientele. The business became unprofitable, the luxurious aristocratic style of Irfe turned out to be beyond the means of many, and simple and versatile outfits from Chanel became fashionable. The Yusupovs lacked business acumen, and in 1931 a decision was made to liquidate the Irfe Fashion House and its branches. At the beginning of the 21st century. the Irfe fashion house was revived. In 2008, his first collection after an 80-year hiatus was presented at Paris Fashion Week.
They say that all members of this family were haunted by misfortunes. .
March 1913. St. Petersburg.
1. The story is told on behalf of Felix Yusupov
All autumn and winter the Grand Duke followed me like someone sewn on me. At first I was triumphant and congratulated myself on this victory. I won’t lie, I was flattered by his affection for me, his passion and ingenuity. I, for my part, taught Dmitry some things necessary for our brother - how to take precautions, how to correctly answer tricky questions from family and friends.
Tsarskoe Selo did not like our friendship. But it didn't bother us. We just laughed at Once again noticing the spy, who had been assigned to watch Dmitry and me, no less than by order of the queen. It was even funny - to steal the groom from the king's daughter. But Dmitry himself behaved in such a way that it sometimes became unbearable. God knows I gave him more attention than any other of my friends. Even more than Jerry or King Manuel in Oxphodra. But in England, away from my family, I was able to lead a much freer and more carefree life than in St. Petersburg. But everything was not enough for my Grand Duke. He did not want to hide, did not want to stay in the shadows and be content with cautious, rare meetings. He wanted to have me as his undivided property.
Mitenka, why are you ruining everything? – I sighed one afternoon, stroking his hair. We sat (or rather lay) in my room.
What am I spoiling?
He listens, but does not hear. He curled up and put his head in my lap. Unless he wrapped himself around. So he clings to the caressing hand. Well, what should we do with it?
Don't follow me, don't follow me. It annoys me. I can’t sit next to you and hold your hand all the time. - Damn, how difficult it is to chew on seemingly obvious things. – I need space, you know?
Again he doesn't understand. He looks with agony in his green mermaid eyes. Looks like Turgenev's young lady will start asking if I love him. I couldn't bear this anymore.
Okay, I give up. - Let's try from the beginning. You complain that I don’t spend all my evenings with you. I don't say where I am. But I'm doing this only for you! I suppose some of my leisure activities would not be to your taste, but I need them. That's the way I'm built. And you should thank me for caring so much about yours. peace of mind. But if you really want it... Will you go to a restaurant with me? No, not to Rode. You will see everything for yourself. Just don’t say later that I didn’t warn you.
My dear,” the delighted Dmitry, of all that was said, seemed to prefer to hear only one thing. And not at all what should have happened. - After everything we've done so far recent months, it’s unlikely that anything will confuse me anymore.
2. The narration is told on behalf of Dmitry
Felix gave the proud name “restaurant” to an establishment of an indeterminate nature that was already familiar to me, from where I picked Felix up from the police a few months ago. But this time nothing reminded of the previous raid - and the inconspicuous door hospitably swung open to greet the Grand Duke and his companion.
Dressed in a dress embroidered with glass beads, jewelry, a resin wig and a light veil, Prince Yusupov turned into a charming young lady. Tall, flat and thin, but beaming with the most charming smiles.
Instead of quietly occupying a separate office, as I had hoped, Felix chose a table in the center of the semi-dark, dark and stuffy room, closer to the gypsy orchestra. My timid attempts to urge him to be careful and prudent were ignored. I sat neither alive nor dead, quickly saying a prayer to myself over and over again: “Lord, if only no one recognizes us, please…”. Well-dressed civilians and several young officers sat around. Many kept a low profile, apparently remaining incognito. Which is not surprising, since their company was either brightly made-up girls or pale, mannered students. The latter, as I noticed with embarrassment, were more numerous than the ladies. And if the gentlemen drank heavily on drinks, their companions greedily devoured dinner. I turned away. It seemed to me that the eyes of everyone present were fixed on us. However, remembering this evening in the following days, I came to the conclusion that the neighbors did not care about us, but they were looking at the gypsies.
Yusupov seemed to feel at ease in this cesspool like a duck to water. He laughed loudly, crossed his legs and fidgeted in his chair like a schoolgirl. He drank crappy champagne in one gulp, and every now and then he shot his kohl-lined eyes somewhere into the depths of the hall, which was drowning in gray tobacco smoke.
I had to hold the match to his cigarette in a long amber cigarette holder. I also had to call him “Ida.”
I think I already told you... Or didn’t I? My mother passionately desired a daughter, and I was born. For the first five or six years, she found solace in dressing me as a girl. But as a respectful son, I try to respect the will of my parent.
And Felix laughed loudly again, throwing his head back, causing all his necklaces, bracelets and earrings worth $100 to shudder and scatter with diamond sparks. small estate. He enjoyed the quiet ringing and clinking of jewelry. The barefoot gypsy dancing on stage seemed to respond cheerfully with cheap monists, and for some reason I remembered that a fair amount of Tatar blood flowed in the veins of my companion. “It’s been a long time since the Yusupovs were non-Christian Mohammedans, their habits are inhuman, shamanistic...”, I involuntarily thought, but was immediately ashamed of the blasphemous thought. Felix's family could not be accused of disrespect for the church or non-compliance with the required rituals. At least externally.
Tense to the limit, I kept expecting that trouble was about to happen. Felix mocked me venomously and advised me to relax, but he could not feel calm in this den. I, a relative of the Sovereign, poured tea for the queen this morning and habitually kissed my four august cousins - so pure and immaculate... Lord, why am I now sitting here, in a dirty tavern, next to a man dressed in a woman’s dress? How strange it all is.
Lost in my confused thoughts, I did not notice when a very tipsy officer staggered towards our table. Did he come on his own initiative, attracted by the playful laughter of the “lady,” or was he called? At the first moment I was completely dead. The blood rushed to my head and pounded in my temples. Learned! But no... However, the next discovery struck me almost more than the initial suspicion. The newcomer did not recognize either Grand Duke Romanov or Prince Yusupov. He twirled his mustache, grinned and carnivorously examined the flirtatiously blushing “Ida.”
This was too much. The accumulated tension at once melted into anger and desperate suspicions. I had no idea that it was possible to develop such hatred for a complete stranger in a single moment. This must have been reflected in my gaze, because the mustachioed alien only stood next to us for a little while, but then he wilted and retreated away.
Yusupov, holding his breath with visible pleasure, watched the pantomime unfolding in front of him:
And if our friend did start pestering poor Ida, what would you do? - he asked a minute later. - Would you challenge him to a duel?
Felix's eyes sparkled with excitement, his thin, scarlet-lined lips parted. He was trembling with excitement. I've never seen him like this before. So sensual and so desirable.
Yes. And then I’ll shoot myself.
Give it up, Mitya. I was joking, I hate duels. - Felix coquettishly shook his folded fan. - But I want to ask you for something else. You promised that if I take you with me today, you will do everything as I say. Do you promise?
Anything. If this does not affect the officer’s honor, prudence faintly stirred. Most of all I wanted to get away from here. And most importantly, get Felix out of here. Away from all these cheeky gentlemen, among whom I felt like a stranger. Unlike my “Ida”. I vaguely felt that there were rules of some kind of game in play here, which they did not bother to explain to me. There is nothing more unpleasant than following the progress of a tense and gambling game without understanding its essence.
I want you to sit here and wait for me. I soon. “Otherwise, we’ll never see each other again,” Felix said sternly, but the corners of his lips trembled with suppressed laughter. “You know, I can’t stand ugly scenes of jealousy, which Your Highness, as it turns out, is a great master at.”
It is always extremely informative to look into the eyes of a person whose entire soul is written on his face, thought Felix. Poor Dmitry is one of them. Hardened cheekbones, pursed lips... Will there be an explosion or not? Yusupov held his breath. The regal bearing of an insulted prince... But he is the grandson of the emperor. It’s a pity if he breaks down - punishing for breaking a promise is not as interesting as keeping him on his toes. But no, the threat was dosed correctly - the green eyes were just throwing thunder and lightning, but... now the Grand Duke had already lowered his head, slouched, there was a dull melancholy in his gaze... For a moment, Felix felt a pang of pity. You can also turn everything into a joke, kiss, unnoticed by strangers, squeeze your knee under the table just above your boot, and offer to leave here immediately. Even these little things are enough for Dmitry to immediately forgive all insults, and then express his love for a long time and passionately...
Wait for me here, I'll be back soon.
Yes... - the Grand Duke completely wilted, so before he waved his hand invitingly to the former mustachioed officer, Felix had to be generous with an encouraging brotherly kiss on his temple.
Dmitry watched the couple with a desperate look. My temples were pounding from humiliation and my own powerlessness. Not feeling any taste or hops, he swallowed the remaining champagne glass after glass. A gypsy woman sang on stage:
But tomorrow with the first rays
They will go away in a crowd into the distance.
And my song is behind the carts
Then it will cause sadness in him,
How much time has passed, a few minutes, a quarter of an hour? Felix and the stranger still did not return. Without thinking, almost without realizing what he was doing, the Grand Duke rose from his seat. The floor under our feet swayed like the deck of the Shtandart, the music of the dispersed orchestra thundered wildly, but all that mattered was the door in the back of the hall, where Yusupov had disappeared.
On the other side was a corridor cluttered with broken chairs and other disused restaurant utensils, but instinct led the Grand Duke further, to the staircase visible ahead. He heard Felix first, and only then saw him. Muffled sighs and remembrances of the unclean, sniffling, giggles, some kind of vague fuss.
Usatiy, disheveled and with his pants down, leaned against the wall, and Prince Yusupov in a lopsided wig stood on his knees in front of him, rhythmically jingling his earrings and allowing himself to be grabbed by his shoulders and the back of his head.
For several moments, Dmitry silently looked at the sight that greeted him, unable to comprehend the reality of what was happening. A lump came to my throat.
God, Felix, what are you doing? - the Grand Duke muttered in a broken voice. Stupid, pathetic question last try hear a rational justification that explains everything.
And Felix seemed to be just waiting for this. Looking up from his shameful occupation, he quickly turned around - without a shadow of embarrassment, fear or defiance. While Mustache hurriedly pulled up his pants, cursing, Dmitry and Felix looked at each other carefully. It seemed to Dmitry that they were waiting for something - Yusupov’s eyes shone so tenderly, his mother’s necklace rose so heavily on his chest. Time slowed down, delayed by a few heartbeats. But then Felix's face showed boredom and disappointment. The moment was lost.
I told you to wait for me. Please go away!
The first reason for anxiety, foreboding of deception and imminent grief was provided by the incident in “The Bear”. She and Felix were already finishing dinner when a stranger in a Cossack army uniform suddenly approached their table. The dark handsome man behaved incredibly strangely. Ignoring Dmitry, the alien stared at Yusupov with moist black eyes. And he burst into a confused emotional speech. From the stranger’s words it followed that Mr. Yusupov reminded him of a certain beautiful lady. Not being able to see that beauty again, he prays for the great mercy of somehow taking a walk in the company of Prince Felix... For example, tomorrow.
Feeling a scandal in his gut, Dmitry became wary, but still found no reason to interfere. These are just strange, crazy speeches of some over-eager warrior. Moreover, Yusupov listened to the Cossack with stone-faced, expressing with all his appearance that only his upbringing does not allow him to respond sharply to such an unceremonious interference in the private conversation of friends having a meal.
Finally, having not received consent to the meeting, the excited stranger nevertheless went home. But Felix was still gloomy. It seemed that this little incident had knocked him out of balance.
Who was that? – Dmitry shook his head with a chuckle and began to eat dessert. - It was necessary to get so drunk. I kept waiting for this brave Cossack to turn to me, mistaking me for my great-great-grandmother, the great Catherine.
But instead of returning the joke, Felix frowned even more.
- Do not pay attention. This is a fan of my mother,” he spoke quickly, without raising his eyes and fiddling with the napkin in his hands. “One day he came straight to our house with a huge bouquet of roses, but she drove him away.
Your mother's fan? – Dmitry was sincerely amazed. – What does this have to do with you?..
But Yusupov did not want to talk more on this topic:
Forget. – Felix threw away the napkin irritably. - And let's go somewhere else, I'm tired of here.
And Dmitry really forgot, did not attach any importance to this curious episode special significance. But very little time passed, and all such incidents began to form a single picture that deeply shocked the Grand Duke. Felix's strange acquaintances, his sudden disappearances for several days, after which he returned to the Grand Duke tortured, nervously tense, but contented, affectionate and pliable. Dmitry preferred to find logical, reasonable, highest degree convincing explanations.
An anonymous letter delivered directly to the Alexander Palace. In correct, kind expressions, the Grand Duke was given a lot of information about Yusupov. Delicate revelations were accompanied by a neat list of facts - names, addresses, dates... The handwriting was probably changed, but the syllable remained vaguely familiar. It seemed to Dmitry that, if he wanted, he could easily identify the author of these lines. But is the stupid slander of an ill-wisher worth attention?
Carelessly putting the crumpled anonymous note into his pocket, the Grand Duke, with the condescending sympathy of a happy lover, remembered the Cossack from “The Bear.” “Before my eyes, an abandoned lover, or perhaps a random victim of Yusupov’s charms, begged for a date,” he thought, “and I didn’t even understand what was happening.” He did not find in his soul hatred and anger towards his opponent, because Felix was with him. On the contrary, he felt a kind of bitter sympathy and understanding for his unsuccessful opponent. I wonder how many of them there are?.. He, the Grand Duke, will never have to endure humiliation. Pursue, begging for a little love!
Choking with despair and humiliation, the shocked Grand Duke rushed headlong down the corridor. Stumbling over broken chairs, almost falling. Felix shouted something else after him, but it didn’t matter anymore. Just to quickly shake off the sticky nightmare of broken illusions. Everything was like in a dream - later the Grand Duke could not remember how he flew out of the tavern, got into the car and somehow miraculously drove home. He didn’t run over any of the pedestrians, and he didn’t drive off the embankment into the canal. It was as if there was no road. It’s probably true that God protects drunks and lovers. And Dmitry was drunk with the poisoned wine of dying love.
An emptiness and silence settled in my chest. Thoughts were tossing and turning in my head like alien, unnecessary, forgotten things. The simplest and most primitive thoughts about how to order the repair of the roof, invite an appraiser, and still be at the Empress's sacred tea party tomorrow at five o'clock sharp - all caused suffering. How stupid, unnecessary and petty all this is!
He sacrificed everything and for what? Love is forbidden, crazy, doomed in advance to forever shyly hide in the corners. Doomed to be a leper and an outcast in the eyes of society. But it was still love, and he didn’t know anything else. How can they call ancient love unreal? A shameful youthful whim that needs to be cured like a bad disease? But now this love was dying. What an unthinkable insult - to betray the Grand Duke!
How could Felix be so cruel? He killed, he had already killed him, but he didn’t even notice it. And no one noticed. Grand Duke with difficulty I emerged for a minute from the terrible half-oblivion in which I had been since the moment I caught that ugly scene. Late passers-by glided around as usual, a janitor scraped the sidewalk with a broom, a flock of female students on the Anichkov Bridge, giggling bashfully, looked at the naked tamers and their bronze horses.
Surprisingly, the thought sluggishly stirred, why none of these people see that there is a dead man sitting in a fashionable Belgian engine parked near the Sergius Palace? Who still breathes, thinks and can move. But he doesn’t feel anything anymore.
The gaping hole in his chest seemed almost tangible. When the first shock, which mercifully dulled all senses, passed, a lump of dull, throbbing pain settled somewhere in the area of the solar plexus. Dmitry had no strength left to think complex structures, but he just knew that soon this pain would swallow him whole, destroying the twisted fragments of everything that an hour ago had been his life, love, dreams, some stupid and empty hopes.
When (was it really just a few months, even weeks ago?) he agreed to surrender to the love Felix proposed, his wise heart immediately whispered a warning, “No!”, predicting a similar end. Hot as the sun, generous, but indifferent and ruthless Yusupov’s love burned him to the ground. And then they threw it away like a boring toy, finding new entertainment for themselves. He shouldn’t have gotten involved with Felix, they were too different from the very beginning...
Those who say that unhealing wounds are inflicted by enemies are lying. The enemy can cause trouble, he can insult, slander, and take away everything. But the enemy will never be able to strike with such terrifying accuracy and ruthlessness as the hand of a former friend or lover will do.
Dmitry knew many people for whom another rejected love became only annoying misunderstanding, not worth even ruining your appetite at lunch. But for himself at these moments he no longer saw any future or meaning. Nothing happened the moment he became convinced that Felix, his Felix, had abandoned him.
Dmitry Pavlovich!
The young man shuddered and focused his gaze on the wicked man who had intruded upon his sorrowful thoughts. It turned out that General Laming was persistently banging on the car window. The old teacher was in his home suit, it looked like he had been torn from the dinner table.
What's happened?
I want to ask you the same thing. “As a former mentor, the old general allowed himself a patronizing tone, although there was genuine concern in his voice. “I’m sitting with my wife in the living room, drinking tea—I hear you drive up.” A quarter of an hour later Maria Pavlovna comes in and asks where you are. I say – I’ve been home for fifteen minutes already. And she is surprised and replies that you are not there. I go to the window - and you just sit in the car...
Nothing. Just thinking. - Uncle Laming. How inopportune. The Grand Duke depicted simple-minded absent-mindedness on his face. “Go indoors, you’ll catch a cold standing outside like this.”
But the general did not leave, but hovered nearby while the young owner handed the engine over to the care of a garage worker. I suspected something was wrong...
The second mistake was meeting my sister. Marisha, who had affably run down the stairs to meet him, suddenly stopped dead in her tracks and clasped her hands.
Lord, what happened? There's no face on you! Someone... something wrong with dad? You are drunk?
Everything is fine. Sorry. A little tired. I need to be alone, write some letters. – In short phrases it's much easier to talk. It even seems to come out coherently.
Dmitry quickly kissed his sister on the temple and, as he walked, throwing his overcoat into the hands of the footman, cowardly retreated to his room, away from the brewing caring questions.
However, my sister grabbed the tick. I followed. She persistently looked into her face and asked something. Fear and anxiety splashed in the young woman's eyes. Dmitry sighed. It's hard to lie to a woman who knows you from birth, reads every gesture and look. Knows every movement of the eyebrows, every intonation, turn of the head. What a pity that there is only one such person in the world, and that this Native sister...How Maria still loves him. I didn’t notice it before, I took it for granted. When your heart is breaking from pain and despair, it is difficult to concentrate on any extraneous thoughts that seem so unnecessary and insignificant. But the only one close person deserves to say goodbye.
Already on the threshold of his office, Dmitry kissed his sister again, but did not allow her to follow her, he gently pushed her away.
I've had a rough day, but I still have some work to do. I... - he paused, not knowing what else to say. But a happy thought came to mind just in time. - Arrange for dinner to be served later. Or don’t wait for me, eat yourself usual time.
It seems the idea turned out to be successful. When leaving, my sister looked so tense. She just asked not to be late and to be there for dinner at eleven.
And so, finally he is alone. He won't be disturbed until eleven, there will be enough time for letters and to heal once and for all from a broken heart. With a lifetime guarantee. At least until the Day of Judgment.
Dmitry sat at his desk for half an hour with an automatic pen in his hands. But in vain I was exhausted and blotted several sheets of expensive English paper. Absolutely nothing appropriate to the occasion came out of the pen. Finally, he limited himself to a short note for the executor: the old will remains in force. Having carefully blotted the still wet lines of the paperweight, he left the note on the table, only carelessly covering it from casual glance with some kind of folder. I no longer had the strength or courage to write farewell letters to my relatives. I feel sorry for my sister, but she is strong and can handle it. The father has a beloved wife and another son. But Felix doesn't care.
Having finished his paperwork with relief, Dmitry last time looked around the office. I walked from the window to the wall. He carefully took a small photograph of his mother from the mantelpiece and awkwardly kissed it. From an old-fashioned brown leather frame, a fragile young woman with small features, like the muzzle of a quiet mouse, looked sadly at him. Now her son is already older than she was when she died, giving him life.
Returning the frame to its place, he returned to the table and pulled out one of the drawers, where another photograph was kept between the pages of the notebook-diary. A photograph taken just half a year ago in a Parisian studio, but already pretty much captured, crumpled, with a tattered cardboard corner of the passe-partout. Only a card that is often taken out, trusted in one’s hands, or perhaps carried with oneself in a secret breast pocket can become worn out in this way. There, closer to the heart. But now Dmitry was holding the card face down. It was not necessary to look at the image - he already remembered this portrait to the last detail.
Sleek, slightly elongated face. Thread thin lips which seemed about to be ready to either form into a sly and mocking smile, or with shameless languor to open slightly towards a kiss. Radiant gray eyes under the shadow of long girlish eyelashes looked straight at the viewer, and even on the photograph they retained their disturbing attractive power. But today Dmitry was already outside their power, having been most cruelly deprived of all illusions and obsessions. He put the photo in his pocket.
Dmitry quietly left the office, but his sister immediately looked out from the room opposite. So she was on guard all this time.
Still decided to have dinner at the usual time? – there is hope in the voice. - I’ll make arrangements right away...
No, no, it's not worth it. I just forgot something in the car, I'll be back soon. I'll leave at eleven, as agreed.
Descending down the grand marble staircase, Dmitry stroked the smooth curve of the railing with a farewell caress. On his back he felt the gaze of Maria standing above, but this was no longer important. Half an hour will be enough for him. Without putting on his overcoat, he went out into courtyard. There, where one of the old stables a couple of years ago was converted into a garage, which was now occupied by the pride of the Grand Duke - the Belgian Metallurzhik motor. Without looking back once, the Grand Duke crossed the courtyard with a calm, even step and entered the garage.
Inside the former stable, a sharp, pungent smell hit my face. A mixture of oil, metal and rubber - the body and spirit of the new inhabitant of the stable, the iron horse. In the meager electric light of dusty light bulbs, the steep golden-beige side of the “Belgian” gleamed dullly. Like a well-fed and well-groomed thoroughbred horse, the engine is ready for the owner’s services at any time.
Dmitry Pavlovich adored horses long before entering the cavalry school, but I fell in love with engines passionately and immediately. The Grand Duke remembered how, at the age of eighteen, he first sat behind the wheel of his first (now hopelessly outdated!) motor. At that time he was still living in Moscow with Aunt Ella, and not without pleasure he scared the daylights out of conservative Muscovites on the streets with this rattling iron monster. After all, unlike the capital’s residents, they have rarely seen such a miracle of technology. But motors are the future, Dmitry believed. And as soon as he moved to the Sergievsky Palace on Nevsky Prospekt, he ordered his uncle’s stable to be converted into a garage. And now the “Belgian” will serve him well last service.
Then everything was very simple. It is enough to lock the door from the inside and make sure that the large gate is also locked. The employees had not yet had time to remove the winter insulation - the cracks were patched with tow, and thick winter frames were inserted into the dormer window. Which is also very useful.
Affectionately, how Living being Having stroked the round glass headlight staring senselessly into space, the Grand Duke sat down on the driver’s seat and pulled the lever all the way.
The engine hummed obediently and vibrated softly in response. The exhaust pipe coughed, spitting out the first clouds of air burned in the oily piston interior of the engine. The machine doesn't need to be told twice. Unlike a human, she is never stubborn or makes a scene.
Dmitry leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes, again gently, gratefully stroking the golden upholstery of the cabin. All that was left to do was wait. And probably not for long. Within a few minutes, the air in the garage thickened and trembled, and began to wriggle with still weak, but persistent tentacles, greedily reaching out to the obediently waiting man behind the wheel.
Under the monotonous, soothing roar of the engine, all sorts of nonsense popped into my head, in no way corresponding to the responsibility of the moment. Or has the mind already begun to stumble over wisps of insidious, strange-smelling smog? The lines I once heard came back to my memory:
The lion is fierce, the lion is hungry,
You are akin to a dangerous darkness,
You wander, displeasing to God,
On a troubled land.
Come, like death, beautiful,
Just like morning, young man,
Shake your thick mane,
The mane is light golden.
Let me tremble in heavy paws,
Prepare the caress of death,
Let me hear the terrible smell,
Dark, drunk, like love.
The grass breathes like smoke,
Like a bride I'm quiet
A bloody gaze is above me
Golden groom... *
My vision began to swim and blur, and blood began to pound in my temples. Dmitry carefully took a deep breath, but immediately bent over in a painful attack of dry cough, painfully hitting his forehead on the steering wheel. And I was not immediately able to straighten up again - it led to the side. Since childhood, he had weak lungs; doctors did not even approve of serving in the cavalry. No, he thought, perhaps it’s not worth rushing events and dedicating last minutes fussy patting one's pockets in search of a handkerchief. It is enough to trust the faithful “Metallurzhik”.
The Grand Duke froze expectantly. Felix, Felix... What have you done to me. Feeling for the photo card in his pocket, Dmitry brought it to his face for the last time. No longer ashamed, he kissed her. He belatedly realized that it would be strange and inconvenient if he was found with a photograph clutched in his numb fingers. It was necessary to burn it, like the letters... I forgot to burn the letters too. Thoughts rushed at a lame gallop, getting confused and overtaking one another. The next moment Dmitry laughed bitterly, coughing again. Even now he is worried about His safety, and this is after everything He has done to him. Felix. Cruel, deceitful, fickle. Traitor, dishonest, beloved, desired.
Dmitry saw almost nothing through the thick clouds of burnt gas, the hand with the photo card fell powerlessly to his knee. His breathing became unsteady, as if trying to catch up with the pace of the blood pulsing furiously in the veins of his neck and wrists. If you forget about the cough tearing apart your lungs, death was merciful to Dmitry - the last consolation for the dying man was granted a sweet hallucination. From far away, to latest outbreaks floating consciousness, through the knocking in his temples and some incomprehensible noise, his beloved voice could be heard calling him by name:
Dmitry, Dmitry! Open up, mother! Dmitriy!
Dmitry once knew an old officer who had received seriously injured V Japanese war and miraculously returned from the brink of death. And he knowledgeably told the Grand Duke what the moment of transition to a better world was like. It will be a magical corridor woven from warmth and light, he said. If your hour has already come, you will be called and you will enter it.
And now, before completely losing consciousness, Dmitry managed to see the garage doors opening. The light of several powerful electric torches hit him in the face. But most importantly, Felix was running towards him in this artificial glow. With a distorted face, holding a handkerchief to his mouth... But it was still him. The Grand Duke smiled blissfully and closed his eyes. With such a companion it is not a sin to follow the notorious path of light...
Dmitry woke up in his own bed. From the wide open windows the damp and cold air of the March night was drawn in from the Fontanka. Some shadows were fussing around and mournfully wailing.
He comes to his senses, glory to the Almighty!
Overcoming the faintness, Dmitry had difficulty focusing his gaze. The blurry spot bending over him turned into the sister’s distorted and dull face, swollen from tears.
But then she was pushed aside by someone standing nearby. Dmitry quickly lowered his eyelids, both hoping and not daring to hope. Can't be.
My poor, stupid Dmitry,” the hot whisper was interspersed with quick, persistent, and so promising kisses. The Grand Duke was hot - from too warm blanket, from fever or from the proximity of Felix. Dmitry, who had not fully woken up, missed the moment when Yusupov escorted everyone out the door. But he did not resist and did not say anything; words required too much strength. But Felix didn't need that. “I didn’t know that you would take everything so close to your heart,” Yusupov complained, continuing to cover the emaciated face of the would-be suicide with kisses.
But you yourself said that everything is over between us. That I should leave.
Oh, what nonsense. But it's your own fault. You behaved simply unbearably. Well, a purely old jealous husband who discovered someone else’s comb in the marital bedroom. Frankly, this infuriated me. But... - Felix ingratiatingly pulled the edge of the blanket, no one has ever tried to take their own life because of me. It is so unusual.
Felix breathed out his last words directly into the Grand Duke’s lips.
Despite the monstrous weakness overcome by him, Dmitry almost laughed. Unusual! This is what Felix is all about. He is excited only by the strange, the painful... the unusual. From trying on mother's dresses to barely giving up her prey to death. And now - he’s all trembling like a taut string, there’s a naughty, intoxicated, infectious madness in his eyes. Just stretch out your hand and the one who, a few hours ago, with irritation muttered cruel words through his teeth, is now again ready to fall into the palm of your hand like a ripe fruit.
Footsteps and persistent voices were heard outside the door, reminding them that they were not alone here. And Dmitry made up his mind.
Then stay with me. Today... - it was hard to speak, my throat was sore, but Dmitry still uttered these words.
Yusupov seemed to hesitate for a second. Still, they had never so openly stayed overnight in the same room, in a house full of servants, under the noses of their relatives. Dmitry looked expectantly at his friend. The still unforgiven insult was mixed with the infectiousness of Felix’s excited look. The request sounded perhaps too authoritative, but Dmitry was too exhausted to choose words - he only expressed what he wanted most.
Okay, now I’ll disperse your servants,” Yusupov grumbled. Rising from the edge of the bed, he carefully straightened his coat, smoothed his hair with his palm and went out into the corridor. Looking at the strip of electric light flowing from behind the half-closed door, Dmitry heard him announce to the servants:
His Highness is much better now, there is no need to disturb him. I will stay with him, and if anything is needed, I will certainly call him.
The doctor and Maria rushed to the doorway, but Yusupov blocked the door with his chest. Words of protest were heard, and the doctor was especially indignant.
The Grand Duke closed his eyes, trying not to fall into an alarming, painful sleep.
OK it's all over Now.
Felix, without undressing, only threw off his frock coat, and quickly ducked under the blanket. Dmitry felt sick, his whole body ached from weakness. The touches of dry hot hands, quick, light kisses did not find a response in the exhausted body. But Felix did not seem to notice this; on the contrary, never before had he, a capricious self-lover, been so attentive, gentle and patient.
Poor Dmitry,” he repeated again and again in a whisper.
7.
- How did you end up here yesterday?
Morning had long since come into its own, but the two were still lying in bed hugging each other. Felix announced that he would never cross the threshold of the room or show himself to anyone without changing his wrinkled dress. And when the messenger hurriedly went to the Moika to get a fresh suit for Yusupov, Dmitry finally began asking questions.
Your sister called me. I just returned myself. Frankly, at the first moment when they called me to the machine, I was terribly angry. I thought you were stupid to admit everything and complain to her about me. But she started talking about something else. They say that you came home not yourself, she had never seen her dear little brother in such a state. – Felix imitated Maria’s worried grimace quite similarly. The Grand Duke involuntarily smiled. “She said that she was very worried and that’s the only reason she dared to ask me, as her brother’s friend, to come and stay with you.” I was terribly unhappy, but I couldn’t refuse the lady. I arrived just in time to watch the servants break down the garage door. Then they brought you here...
Felix stretched languidly and yawned. And Dmitry remained silent about his last memories of yesterday. About the shaking hands desperately clutching his collar, about the crazy eyes full of horror and tears near his face...
“While they were looking for a doctor,” Felix continued, “I looked into your office. I burned your note out of harm's way. I also... talked to the doctor. He will tell you and, if necessary, he will write everything as it should in the conclusion. For everyone, yesterday's incident is a tragic accident. You went into the garage to check the engine, but accidentally slammed the front door behind you and didn’t notice how you swallowed toxic fumes. Fortunately, your absence was quickly discovered and everything turned out okay.
Dmitry let out an delighted chuckle.
Your cunning and foresight, my dear, have no limits.
This married couple in the history of Russia remained as one of the most beautiful, richest and most scandalous. They were talked about a lot, they were condemned for almost every action. And yet, we were proud to know this couple...
When discussing the luxurious lifestyle, dazzling beauty or scandalous actions of the princely Yusupov family, few people think that perhaps they became the catalyst for the historical breakdown that Russia experienced in 1917.
Married by fate
Irina Romanova with her father
The marriage of Grand Duchess Irina Alexandrovna Romanova with Felix Yusupov seemed impossible throughout high society Russia. The figure of the groom was too scandalous to allow even the thought that he might become related to the imperial family.
The only (after the tragic and mysterious death of his older brother Nikolai in a duel) heir to the richest Yusupov family graduated from Oxford, had an excellent education and a subtle mind.
Felix Yusupov was so handsome that contemporaries called his face angelic: delicate features, soft swollen lips, huge dark eyes with a languid look. In general, a real golden boy.
True, this “golden boy” monarchical Russia led a far from angelic lifestyle, enjoying all its benefits. Not only that, merciless rumor attributed to him scandalous love affairs with persons of the same sex.
That's how they saw him too singing in a fashionable St. Petersburg cafe in a woman's dress made of blue tulle with silver sequins and a fluffy boa of blue ostrich feathers. And in his luxurious palace there were special chambers arranged in oriental style, where he indulged in forbidden love pleasures.
And such a person is thinking about marrying the granddaughter of the dowager empress and the niece of the current emperor? What a scandal!
Felix Yusupov himself later recalled his first meeting with Irina Romanova: “From that day I was sure that this was my destiny. The teenager has since turned into a young girl of amazing beauty.
Shyness made her silent, which enhanced her charm and surrounded her with mystery. Seized by a new feeling, I understood the poverty of my past adventures. Finally, I also found that perfect harmony, which is the basis for all true love...”
There are a great many versions of how this marriage worked out. Yusupov himself claims in his memoirs that he fell madly in love with the first beauty of Russia.
Another version says that Princess Zinaida Yusupova, who adored her son, threw hysterics at him, pretended to be sick and demanded grandchildren while she was still alive.
And numerous ill-wishers of the Yusupov family slandered that Irina Romanova's impeccable reputation should have whitewashed Felix's reputation.
Anyway, beautiful Irina could not resist the angelic beauty of her future husband and his assertive courtship. Moreover, he, apparently, repented of his sins to her, and what romantically educated young lady could resist saving such a beautiful sinner?
And so in February 1914 a magnificent wedding took place. More than a thousand guests came to the famous Anichkov Palace, which belonged to the Yusupovs.
The Sovereign Emperor and Empress Alexandra Feodorovna arrived from Tsarskoye Selo with the Grand Duchesses: Olga, Tatiana, Maria and Anastasia. They blessed the bride for the crown.
Troubles of the revolution
Felix Yusupov
A year later the young wife gave birth to a girl who was named after her mother Irina. Felix hasn’t exactly settled down, but at least his adventures have stopped being gossiped about in all the social drawing rooms.
He made acquaintances in political circles and liked to speculate about the fate of Russia. After all, the war with the Germans had been going on for several years now, and revolutionary unrest began in society. And then there’s Rasputin...
There are probably few people who did not know that it was Felix Yusupov who was the killer of Grigory Rasputin. Dozens of books have been written about this, many films have been made, and Felix himself has written multi-volume memoirs. However, no one will probably ever know how it really happened.
In the classical version, it is believed that it was precisely the beauty of his wife Irina and the promise of her favor that Yusupov lured Rasputin to his palace. However, there are also more scandalous versions.
Some of Felix's enemies maliciously hinted that Rasputin was attracted by the angelic beauty of Yusupov himself, and he promised his favor to Gregory.
There was also talk that the pious elder came in order to reconcile Irina Alexandrovna with her husband, who even after marriage did not give up homosexual relations. Be that as it may, Rasputin was killed, which prompted the February and then the October revolutions.
The imperial couple were so angry that The conspirators were saved from a death sentence only by their complicity in the murder of Grand Duke Dmitry.
Purishkevich is sent to the front, Grand Duke Dmitry Pavlovich to Persia, and Prince Felix Yusupov to the family estate in the Kursk province. His wife, meanwhile, left for Crimea with her daughter to avoid gossip and rumors.
Far from home
The Yusupov couple
The revolution turned out to be merciful to the Yusupov princes. On April 13, 1919, the Yusupovs, along with many representatives Russian aristocracy and members of the imperial family sailed from Crimea on the battleship Marlboro.
In Russia, they abandoned 4 palaces and 6 apartment buildings in St. Petersburg, a palace and 8 apartment buildings in Moscow, 30 estates and estates throughout the country, the Rakityansky sugar factory, the Milyatinsky meat plant,
Dolzhansky anthracite mines, several brick factories and much more. Legends were told about Yusupov’s collection of jewelry even in those days, but they managed to take with them only a small part and a few paintings.
Nevertheless, everyone was alive and was greeted with delight in emigrant circles. From London, where Grand Duchess Ksenia Alexandrovna (Irina’s mother) eventually settled with her husband and younger children, the Yusupovs moved to Paris.
Paris: ups and downs
Irina Yusupova
The problem is that more than 300 thousand Russian emigrants have gathered in France. Many of them fled from Russia, figuratively speaking, in their underwear.
And those who were able to bring out some valuables (for example, like the Yusupovs) sold them for next to nothing, because due to the large supply, prices dropped significantly.
As a result, representatives of aristocratic families found themselves literally on the verge of starvation. After all, they knew practically nothing.
The Yusupovs were helped out by three things. Firstly, Felix's fame as the killer of Grigory Rasputin made it possible to earn money from this (through interviews, memoirs, films), although Irina Alexandrovna was categorically against this. She was disgusted by her husband’s dubious fame and narcissism.
Secondly, the Yusupovs had enough money to buy a house in the Bois de Boulogne and somehow get settled. Although there was a period when the princess herself darned and washed her clothes.
Thirdly, the excellent taste of both Yusupovs allowed them to go into the fashion business. In the early 20s they created their own fashion house, which they called “IrFe” by the first letters of their names.
True, Russian aristocrats had no idea about business as such. In the Yusupov fashion house, the embroiderers and models were entirely real countesses and princesses, but no one even thought about conducting at least some minimal advertising campaign.
The “golden boy” of the degenerating Russian aristocracy, he did a lot to become famous, but in history he remains the killer of Grigory Rasputin.
Frivolous aristocrat
The blood of the nomadic ancestors who founded the Yusupov family, oddly enough, left a special imprint on the indirect heir of the dynasty. In all European salons they talked about Felix’s unbridled and frivolous disposition. Contemporaries retained memories of how, after failing the military school exams, he, without hesitation, became friends with the gypsies, participated in camp performances, singing the soprano part. After lengthy attempts to enter Oxford, having finally achieved his goal, he preferred the comfortable chairs of London theaters to the hard benches of university auditoriums.
Prestige own family, didn't seem to bother Felix at all. For some time he even performed in a cabaret - an unheard of baseness for an aristocrat. Moreover, he performed female role, instead of one of the “blue-eyed actresses” of the Aquarium Theater. The deception was discovered when one of the guests noticed the Yusupov family diamonds on the singer.
Zinaida Nikolaevna, Felix's mother, wanted a daughter. She even made a pink dress for the unborn child. The woman compensated for the disappointment of the birth of her son by raising Felix to be a future lady. Until the age of four, Felix wore a “girl’s” dress, loved to try on his mother’s jewelry and put on makeup. “Mother’s whim subsequently left its mark on my character,” Felix recalled in his memoirs. Felix Yusupov loved to dress up in women's clothes and mature age. Despite his high origins, he remained one of the first “freaks” of his time: he loved to come to a restaurant wearing makeup, in a woman’s dress, and performed romances in this form. They couldn’t help but talk about this; they gossiped about the oddities of the “golden boy” on every corner. The marriage to Irina Romanova largely “whitened” Felix’s biography, although even after the wedding he did not abandon his old habits.
Rasputin's killer
Hundreds of books have been written and dozens of films have been made about this page in the life of Felix Yusupov. The official version is that the murder was committed in the interests of the monarchy. Rasputin was invited to Yusupov’s house, either under the pretext of curing Felix of homosexuality, or for the sake of Rasputin’s acquaintance with Irina (who was in Crimea at that time). One way or another, Felix Yusupov remained in history primarily as the murderer of Grigory Rasputin. A non-military man, a sophisticated esthete, he took part in a bloody affair, which largely determined him later life. Wherever Felix found himself after December 1916, he was first and foremost the “same” killer of Rasputin.
English spy
Felix Yusupov’s connections with British intelligence were unofficial. One of the participants in the murder of Rasputin, Oswald Reiner, close friend Yusupov has been an agent of British intelligence since his Oxford days. The death of the "old man" was beneficial British Empire. Rasputin advocated peace with Germany; Russia's exit from the war threatened Great Britain with defeat. Eliminating the influence of the “old man” on the royal family was thus the primary task of British intelligence. Reiner and Yusupov dealt with it. It is not surprising in this regard that Yusupov was released from exile by Kerensky, who was an open lobbyist for the interests of the British.
The IrFe fashion house, opened in exile by Felix and Irina, was a unique phenomenon of its kind. Countesses and princesses worked there as models and seamstresses. One of the models, for example, was Natalie Paley, daughter of Grand Duke Pavel Alexandrovich, a fatal beauty who later became the face of Vogue. The rise of IrFe was rapid, Felix and Irina focused on the “Russian style”, used silk painting, and produced several lines of clothing, including a “sports” style that was revolutionary for that time. However, as quickly as the spurugs took off, they went bankrupt just as quickly. The Great Depression, the Yusupov spouses’ habit of unjustified spending, and a change in society’s tastes towards simplification had an impact. In 1930, IrFe went bankrupt.
As they say, if you want to live, know how to spin. What did Felix Yusupov take with him abroad, except for a small part of the family jewelry? Felix took with him the glory of the murderer of Rasputin. He was not at all embarrassed by such fame. Even more: this fame allowed him to save money for subsistence. He gave reminiscences, gave interviews, and wrote an autobiography. All he had left of Russia was memory. It is not surprising that he was very unhappy when they tried to slander this memory. In 1932, the film “Rasputin and the Empress” was released. It proved that Irina Yusupova, Felix’s wife, was the “elder’s” mistress. No one believed in the success of Felix's venture, but he sued the MGM film studio and won the case, receiving $25,000 in compensation. It is significant that just after this incident, the credits of Hollywood films began to indicate that everything that happens on the screen is fiction, and any coincidences are unintentional.
Assistant
The Yusupovs were one of the richest families in Europe. If translated into modern concepts, then in terms of income they were oligarchs. After the revolution, the looting of Yusupov's house continued for almost a week. The hasty emigration left the Yusupovs “high and dry”; they managed to take only a few paintings and a small (by the standards of their former wealth) amount of jewelry from Russia. Felix's mother, Zinaida Nikolaevna, headed a foundation in Rome to help refugees from Russia. Felix and Irina also actively helped in this noble cause. They sold their family jewelry for next to nothing, and donated the proceeds to the foundation. In their home in the Bois de Boulogne they provided shelter to everyone who needed it.
On the same topic:
Felix Yusupov: what was Rasputin's killer like? Felix Beloyartsev: what drove the creator of artificial blood to suicide
The handsome Prince Felix Feliksovich Yusupov still amazes the imagination of many ladies and still remains one of the most mysterious figures in Russian history. The last heir of one of the richest families Tsarist Russia, the killer of Grigory Rasputin, he was constantly in the spotlight even in exile: everyone from journalists to politicians wanted to know the secrets of his family. After World War II, Felix, apparently summing up his life, wrote memoirs on French, which have now been successfully translated into Russian and are available to everyone. A very interesting story about the Yusupov family, starting from very distant times from the ancestors of the Tatars and ending with sad nostalgia about Russia abandoned forever... Well, a few interesting excerpts from the memoirs and photographs will once again allow you to immerse yourself in the life of this interesting man and his circle... .
Prince Felix Feliksovich Yusupov, Count Sumarokov-Elston
I was born on March 24, 1887 in our St. Petersburg house on the Moika. The day before, they assured me, my mother danced the night away at a ball in the Winter Palace, which means they said the child would be cheerful and inclined to dance. Indeed, by nature I am a merry fellow, but I am a bad dancer. At baptism I received the name Felix. I was baptized by my maternal grandfather, Prince Nikolai Yusupov, and my great-grandmother, Countess de Chauveau. At the christening in my home church, the priest almost drowned me in the font, where he dipped me three times according to Orthodox custom. They say I forcibly came to my senses.
Felix Yusupov "Memoirs"
Family photo of the Yusupovs - young Felix in a children's dress in the arms of Zinaida Yusupova
I was born the fourth boy. Two died in infancy. While carrying me, my mother was expecting her daughter, and they made a pink trousseau for the children. My mother was disappointed with me and, to console herself, she dressed me as a girl until I was five years old. I was not upset, on the contrary, I was proud. “Look,” I shouted to passers-by on the street, “how beautiful I am!” Mother's whim subsequently left its mark on my character.
Coat of arms of the Yusupov family
The famous great-grandmother of Felix Yusupov is Zinaida Ivanovna, Countess de Chauveau. Portrait by Christina Robertson
As a child, I was lucky enough to know my great-grandmother, Zinaida Ivanovna Naryshkina, by her second marriage, Countess de Chauveau. She died when I was ten years old, but I remember her very clearly. My great-grandmother was a beautiful woman, she lived a happy life and had more than one adventure. When her son got married, she gave the newlyweds a house on the Moika, and she settled on Liteiny. This new house of hers was exactly like the old one, only smaller... In 1925, while living in exile in Paris, I read in the newspaper that during a search of our St. Petersburg houses, the Bolsheviks found a secret door in my great-grandmother’s bedroom, and behind the door - a male skeleton in a shroud... Then I wondered and wondered about him.
Felix Yusupov "Memoirs"
Newlyweds - Zinaida Nikolaevna Yusupova and Felix Feliksovich Sumarokov-Elston
Felix Yusupov's father, Count Felix Felixovich Sumarokov-Elston, Lieutenant General
« The straight road» - this is the motto of the Sumarokovs. My father remained faithful to him all his life. And he was morally superior to many people in our circle. He was very handsome, tall, thin, elegant, brown eyes and black hair. Over the years, he became heavier, but did not lose his stateliness. Had more common sense than profundity. They loved him for his kindness simple people, especially his subordinates, but his superiors sometimes disliked him for his directness and harshness. In his youth he wanted a military career. He entered guards regiment and subsequently commanded it, and even later became a general and was a member of the imperial retinue.
Young Felix on a horse
Family photo of the Yusupovs: father Felix Feliksovich Yusupov, mother Zinaida Nikolaevna Yusupova, eldest son Nikolai and younger son Felix
Zinaida Nikolaevna Yusupova
Serov V.A. Fragment of a portrait of Zinaida Nikolaevna Yusupova 1900
Mother was amazing. Tall, thin, graceful, dark and black-haired, with eyes shining like stars. Smart, educated, artistic, kind. No one could resist her charms.
Princess Zinaida Nikolaevna Yusupova with her beloved Spitz
Princess Zinaida Nikolaevna Yusupova against the background of her portrait by K.E. Makovsky 1900s
Princess Zinaida Nikolaevna Yusupova in Russian costume, 1900s
Mother was very loved by the entire imperial family, in particular the queen’s sister, Grand Duchess Elizaveta Feodorovna. Mother was also on friendly terms with the Tsar, but she was not friends with the Tsarina for long. Princess Yusupova was too independent and said what she thought, even at the risk of angering her. No wonder the empress whispered something, and she stopped seeing her. In 1917, the life physician, dentist Kastritsky, returning from Tobolsk, where royal family was under arrest, read to us the last sovereign message conveyed to him:
« When you see Princess Yusupova, tell her that I realized how correct her warnings were. If they had been listened to, many tragedies would have been avoided».
Francois Flameng Princess Zinaida Nikolaevna Yusupova in Arkhangelsk 1894
Let us take a break at this point from the memoirs of Felix Yusupov and read what was written by L.P. Minarik. in the book “Economic characteristics of the largest landowners in Russia at the end of the 19th - beginning of the 20th centuries. M., 1971” about the wealth of the Yusupovs: “In In 1900, the cost of their estates, dachas and houses was 21.7 million rubles, including the cost of St. Petersburg houses - 3.5 million rubles, a Moscow house - 427.9 thousand rubles, an anthracite mine - 970 thousand rubles ., sugar factory– 1.6 million rubles, cardboard and paper mills– 986 thousand rubles. In 1900, the Yusupovs owned 23 estates; the largest of them were estimated: Rakitnoye - 4 million rubles, Milyatinskoye - 2.3 million rubles, Klimovskoye - 1.3 million rubles, Arkhangelskoye - 1.1 million rubles. By 1914, the Yusupovs had 3.2 million rubles. securities stored in the State Noble, Moscow Merchants, Azov-Don, St. Petersburg International, St. Petersburg Commercial and Industrial and Russian for foreign trade banks"It is worth remembering that all these capitals were backed by real gold at that time, and not just pieces of paper, which we now have in our hands.
Family photo of the Yusupovs
Our winter and summer travel remained unchanged: in winter St. Petersburg - Moscow - Tsarskoe Selo; Arkhangelskoye in the summer, and an estate in Rakitnoye in the fall for the hunting season. At the end of October we went to Crimea.
We rarely traveled abroad, but our parents often took my brother and me on trips to their own factories and estates. They were numerous and scattered throughout Russia, and some were so far away that we never managed to get to them.
In Arkhangelsk among the peasants. Felix Yusupov in the background
Yusupov's son and mother
We went to Arkhangelskoye for the summer. Many friends went to see us off, stayed to visit and settled down until the fall. Whether I loved the guests or not depended on their attitude towards the Arkhangelsk estate. I could not stand those who were insensitive to her beauty, but only ate, drank and played cards. I considered their presence blasphemous. I always ran away from them to the park. I wandered among the trees and fountains and tirelessly admired the happy combination of nature and art. This beauty strengthened, calmed, and reassured.
The Yusupov family on the stairs of the park
Yusupovs in the park
Finally, Arkhangelsky found an admirer to my taste - the artist Serov, who came to the estate in 1904 to paint portraits of us. It was wonderful person. Of all the great people of art that I have met in Russia and Europe, he is the most dear and vivid memory. At first sight we became friends. Our friendship was based on our love for Arkhangelsky. In between sessions, I took him to the park, sat him down on my favorite bench in the forest, and we talked to our heart's content. His ideas had a noticeable influence on my young mind. By nature he was independent and unselfish and could not hide what he thought. He told me that when he was painting the portrait of the sovereign, the empress constantly annoyed him with advice. Finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore, handed her a brush and palette and asked her to finish it for him. This was the best portrait of Nicholas II. In the 17th revolution, when a brutal crowd broke into the Winter Palace, the painting was torn to shreds. One scrap picked up on Palace Square and an officer I knew brought it to me, and I cherish this relic like the apple of my eye.
Young Felix Yusupov
Felix Yusupov poses for artist Valentin Serov
Serov V.A. Portrait of Felix Yusupov
Felix Yusupov years later...
Serov was pleased with my portrait. Diaghilev took it from us to the exhibition of Russian painting that he organized in Venice in 1907. The picture brought unnecessary fame to me. Her father and mother did not like this, and they asked Diaghilev to take her away from the exhibition.
Young Princess Irina Alexandrovna Romanova with her brothers
Once, on a horseback ride near Koreiz, I saw a lovely girl accompanying a lady of venerable years. Our eyes met. She made such an impression on me that I stopped my horse and looked after her for a long time.
The next day and after, I walked the same way, hoping to see the beautiful stranger again. She didn't show up and I was very upset. But soon Grand Duke Alexander Mikhailovich and Grand Duchess Ksenia Alexandrovna visited us together with their daughter, Princess Irina. Imagine my joy and surprise when I recognized my stranger in Irina! This time I had enough of admiring the wondrous beauty, the future companion of my life. She looked very much like her father, and her profile resembled an ancient cameo.
Prince Felix Yusupov in Russian costume 1910
Upon returning to England, I received an invitation to a costume ball at the Albert Hall. I had enough time, and having managed to go to Russia for the holidays, I ordered a Russian costume made of gold brocade with red flowers from the 16th century in St. Petersburg. It turned out great. The caftan and hat were embroidered with diamonds and trimmed with sables. The suit created a sensation. That evening the whole of London became acquainted with me, and the next day all London newspapers published my photograph.
Felix Yusupov in Russian costume
I spent the winter in St. Petersburg with my parents. The year 1913 was marked by a huge event for me. Grand Duke Alexei Mikhailovich once came to my mother to discuss the proposed marriage between his daughter Irina and me. I was happy, because this answered my secret aspirations. I could not forget the young stranger I met while walking on the Crimean road. From that day I knew that this was my destiny. While still a girl, she turned into a dazzlingly beautiful young lady. She was reserved out of shyness, but her restraint added to her charm, surrounding her with mystery. Compared to this new experience, all my previous hobbies turned out to be wretched. I understood the harmony of true feeling. Soon after returning from Crimea, we officially announced our engagement. Finally, the wedding day was set: February 22, 1914 in St. Petersburg with the Dowager Empress in the chapel of the Anichkov Palace.
Prince Felix Yusupov 1915
Grand Duchess Elizaveta Feodorovna was not going to attend our wedding. The presence of a nun at a secular ceremony was, in her opinion, inappropriate. The day before, however, I visited her in Moscow. She received me with her usual kindness and blessed me.
The Emperor asked me through my future father-in-law what to give me for my wedding. He wanted to offer me a position at court, but I replied that the best wedding gift from His Majesty would be to allow me to sit in the theater in the imperial box. When my answer was conveyed to the sovereign, he laughed and agreed. We were inundated with gifts. Next to the luxurious diamonds lay simple peasant gifts.
Princess Irina Alexandrovna Yusupova in a wedding dress
Irina’s wedding outfit was magnificent: a white satin dress with silver embroidery and a long train, a crystal tiara with diamonds and a lace veil from Marie Antoinette herself. But it took me a long time to choose an outfit. I didn’t want to be in a tailcoat in broad daylight and wanted to get married in a business card, but the card outraged my relatives. Finally, the uniform of the nobility - a black redingote with a gold-embroidered collar and cuffs and white trousers - suited everyone.
Prince and Princess Yusupov
Members of the royal family who married persons of non-royal blood were required to sign an abdication of the throne. No matter how far Irina was from the throne, she too submitted to the rule. However, I wasn’t upset.
Felix Yusupov "Memoirs"
Here we will skip a large number of chapters in the Memoirs of Felix Yusupov concerning the murder of Rasputin and the political situation in Russia at that time and we will immediately move on to the tragedy of Russia in the year 1917, or rather already to 1918, to the period when the entire royal family was already destroyed... Surprisingly, Felix Yusupov was denied the right to defend his Fatherland from the Bolsheviks...