As you know, Pierre Gilliard was the girls' French tutor, and here are his remembrances of them, taking from his memoirs. Enjoy :)
The Grand-Duchesses were charming - the picture of freshness and health. It would have been difficult to find four sisters with characters more dissimilar and yet so perfectly blended in an affection which did not exclude personal independence, and, in spite of contrasting temperaments, kept them a most united family. With the initials of their Christian names they had formed a composite Christian name, Otma, and under this common signature they frequently gave their presents or sent letters written by one of them on behalf of all.
I am sure I shall be forgiven for allowing myself the pleasure of recording some personal memories here - memories which will enable me to recall these girls in all the bloom and spontaneous enthusiasms of their youth. I might almost say their childhood. For these were girls who fell victims to a dreadful fate at a time when others are blossoming into womanhood.
The eldest, Olga Nicolaievna, 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 Tsar's presence of mind, the incident ended better than I could have hoped.
Olga Nicolaievna 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 Tsar 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 Tsar 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."
Tatiana Nicolaievna was rather reserved, essentially well-balanced, and had a will of her own, though she was less frank and spontaneous than her elder sister. She was not so gifted, either, but this inferiority was compensated by more perseverance and balance. She was very pretty, though she had not quite Olga Nicolaievna's charm.
If the Tsarina made any difference between her children, Tatiana Nicolaievna was her favorite. It was not that her sisters loved their mother any less, but Tatiana knew how to surround her with unwearying attentions and never gave way to her own capricious impulses. Through her good looks and her art of self-assertion she put her sister in the shade in public, as the latter, thoughtless about herself, seemed to take a back seat. Yet the two sisters were passionately devoted to each other. There was only eighteen months between them, and that in itself was a bond of union. They were called "the big pair," while Marie Nicolaievna and Anastasia Nicolaievna were still known as the "little pair."
Marie Nicolaievna was a fine girl, tall for her age, and a picture of glowing health and colour. She had large and beautiful grey eyes. Her tastes were very simple, and with her warm heart she was kindness itself. Her sisters took advantage somewhat of her good nature, and called her "fat little bow-wow." She certainly had the benevolent and somewhat gauche devotion of a dog.
Anastasia Nicolaievna, on the other hand, was very roguish and almost a wag. She had a very strong sense of humour, and the darts of her wit often found sensitive spots. She was rather an enfant terrible, though this fault tended to correct itself with age. She was also extremely idle, though with the idleness of a gifted child. Her French accent was excellent, and she acted scenes from comedy with remarkable talent. She was so lively, and her gaiety so infectious, that several members of the suite had fallen into the way of calling her "Sunshine," the nickname her mother had been given at the English Court.
In short, the whole charm, difficult though it was to define, of these four sisters was their extreme simplicity, candour, freshness, and instinctive kindness of heart.
Their mother, whom they adored, was, so to speak, infallible in their eyes. Olga Nicolaievna alone showed occasional traces of independence. They surrounded her with every attention. Of their own initiative they had arranged matters in such a way that they could take turns of "duty" with their mother keeping her company for the day. When the Tsarina was ill the result was that the daughter on duty could not go out at all.
Their relations with the Tsar were delightful. He was Emperor, father, and friend in one.
Their feelings for him were thus dictated by circumstances, passing from religious veneration to utter frankness and the warmest affection. Was it not he before whom the ministers, the highest dignitaries of the Church, the grand dukes, and even their mother bowed in reverence, he whose fatherly heart opened so willingly to their sorrows, he who joined so merrily in their youthful amusements, far from the eyes of the indiscreet?
With the exception of Olga Nicolaievna, the Grand-Duchesses were very moderate pupils. This was largely due to the fact that, in spite of my repeated suggestions, the Tsarina would never have a French governess. No doubt she did not wish anyone to come between herself and her daughters. The result was that though they read French, and liked it, they were never able to speak it fluently.
GILLIARD NOTE: Her Majesty talked English with them, the Tsar Russian only. The Tsarina spoke English or French with the members of her suite. She never spoke in Russian (though she spoke it pretty well ultimately) except to those who knew no other language. During the whole period of my residence with the Imperial family I never heard one of them utter a word of German, except when it was inevitable, as at receptions, etc.
The Tsarina's state of health accounts for the fact that the education of her daughters was to some extent neglected. The illness of Aleksey Nicolaievich had gradually worn down her powers of resistance. At times of crisis she spared herself nothing and displayed remarkable energy and courage. But, once the danger had passed, Nature resumed her rights, and for weeks she would lie on a sofa quite exhausted by the strain.
Olga Nicolaievna did not fulfil 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.
By force of circumstances all four had soon learnt to be self-sufficient and to find their natural good nature their sole resource. Very few girls would have accommodated themselves so easily to a life such as theirs - a life deprived of outside amusements, and with no other source of distraction than those joys of family life which are so despised in these days!