On a beautiful spring day in 1912, seventeen-year-old Michael Tetov has grand plans as he graduates from the Corps des Pages and looks forward to serving the Empress Alexandra as a page at court. An aristocrat, he's concerned with social graces, with practicing the dictates of the Russian Church, and with properly fulfilling his duties to the tsar. He has little time to think about the great problems Russia faces. At this time, he cannot envision that he would witness the demise of two magnificent worlds-the imperial Russian court of Tsar Nicholas II and the reign of the last maharaja of Shandragar, India. Follow Prince Tetov as he seeks meaning and justice in his life. His escapes during the Russian Revolution of l9l7; his service with Semenov, the Monster of the Urals; and his kidnapping during the savage Malabar Riots in India destroy his faith in mankind. Love affairs with a servant-turned-Bolshevik, a peasant-turned-partisan fighter, and a titled English lady contribute to his efforts to find his soul. For the Tsar and the Raj tells the tale of a hero who lived in the precarious times that reshaped the world.

For the Tsar and the Raj

By Thomas E. Berry

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2010 Dr. Thomas E. Berry
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4502-5200-3

Contents

Chapter 1 Lost Worlds...........................5Chapter 2 War...................................44Chapter 3 Revolution............................75Chapter 4 Civil War.............................111Chapter 5 My Maharaja...........................143Chapter 6 The Malabar Riots.....................174Chapter 7 The British Raj.......................202

Chapter One

Lost Worlds

1912

It is incredible that I witnessed the demise of two magnificent worlds, the imperial Russian court of Tsar Nicholas II and the reign of the last maharaja of Shandragar, India. How could all of that ostentation and beauty disappear? What happened to all of those elegant and remarkable people? Was it real, or did I live through a dream? I must have been blinded by the opulence and splendor around me, or I would have known that the intrigues, mysteries, and corruption I was involved in could only lead to perdition. I did not realize that honor could be bought, that love could be perverse and untrue, and that God as well as man could fail. And so, through my ineptitude, I lost my soul.

* * *

It seems only yesterday that I, Michael Tetov, seventeen years old and a kamer-page, rushed down the marble staircase of Tetov Palace in St. Petersburg without paying any attention to the gilt-encased portrait of Catherine the Great, which the empress had given my family in the eighteenth century. It was a special day. On that beautiful spring morning in 1912, I was to graduate from the famous Corps des Pages of the emperor, and I had no time for reflections about the malachite vases along the banister or the lapis lazuli inlays in the curved wall. I would serve Empress Alexandra at court, and my close friend, Prince Hassid of Shandragar, the first foreign prince to graduate from the corps, would serve Emperor Nicholas II. Unfortunately, Prince Hassid was in London on official business with the English crown and would not be at the tsar's coronation ceremonies. However, I felt sure we two pages would have a brilliant year at the Russian court.

* * *

In my excitement, I practically ran through the large marble entrance hall into the morning room of the mansion's left wing. Abruptly stopping in the middle of the chamber, l composed myself, attempting to smooth out any wrinkles in my ceremonial white pants and red jacket decorated with many rows of gold braid. I ran a hand through my thick, dark hair and brushed my eyebrows. After quickly glancing at my face in a mirror, I walked to the entrance of the morning room. In the doorway, I stood erect and waited for the attention of my mother, Princess Irina Tetova, a matron of honor to the empress. Having been reared by governesses and educated by private tutors, I valued the minutes each day that I would be allowed with the princess. She noticed me immediately and said, "Mon cher, come sit by me this glorious morning."

Smiling proudly, I walked over to her. She was dressed in a Parisian morning coat made of lilac lace that beautifully set off her light, reddish hair. She extended a hand, which I kissed. My smile showed my contentment. I had upheld the family honor and was thrilled that I had pleased my parents. Our family, the Tetovs, was of the ancient nobility and had a coat of arms that dated back to the fifteenth century, when one of our ancestors had served at the court of Ivan the Terrible. Other family members had served various emperors during the long reign of the Romanov family, which was to celebrate its three hundredth anniversary in 1913. I would be serving the empress during many prestigious and elaborate ceremonies. That my mother would be present as the empress's matron of honor only increased my pride. I had achieved my goal.

Just as I sat down, a servant approached with a menu that needed the princess's approval. She excused herself for a moment and examined the list. I looked about the chamber, which was filled with the sunlight streaming through large French windows. Everything seemed brilliant. The gilded cupids and scrolls on the white walls shone brightly. The silver girandoles glistened. I observed the beauty of the room, but my mind was occupied with some perplexing situations. I hoped that my mother would not ask about her suggestion that I pursue Princess Maria Dashkova with the object of marriage in mind. I also feared that she might again insinuate that my father, Prince Igor Tetov, had a mistress. He did, but I would deny it. Worse still, I prayed that she had not been told that I had slept with her friend, Countess de Soiseau. Yes, I had discovered the joy of a woman's body, but it did not seem the time for such matters. I wanted only to bask in my mother's praise for my achievement.

"Darling," my mother began, turning to me as the servant with the menu left the room. Her bright eyes beamed at me. "You look ..." She paused, glancing at me from head to toe, but before she could finish her sentence, a tall valet swept in through the gilded doors.

"May I present," he announced, "Prince Sergey Voronsov."

My mother glanced away from me and greeted her brother kindly. I stood up and bowed. The tall and stately middle-aged prince, smiling as usual, sat down at the table and smoothed his gray moustache as he talked.

"My dears, I have news," he said. "The Dashkovs have accepted my invitation for a week in the country."

I sensed immediately that an intrigue was being arranged. Feeling quite at ease with my mother and uncle, I blurted out, "Oh, no you don't! You're not isolating me for a week with Maria!"

Everyone laughed; it had been far too obvious. Sergey admitted that he had only participated in the plan because he wanted the best for his favorite relative.

The princess again revealed her feelings about such a marriage. "Darling boy, don't you realize the advantages of such a union? The Dashkovs are one of the most noted families in Russian history, and Maria is one of the most desired young maidens at court." She stood and gracefully raised a hand as she added, "Besides, let's not forget that she is an only child. You might not think in terms of the advantages of her great wealth now, but such a fortune rarely comes with such a charming young lady."

I bowed my head slightly and said in rebuttal, "Mother, I know that her great-grandmother was a close friend of Catherine the Great. She even helped put her on the throne. But wasn't there something strange about their relationship?"

Mother dropped her handkerchief on the table as if brushing aside my remark. "Oh that legend is just a rumor. There's nothing unusual about Maria."

I could not help myself and blurted out, "Except that she bores me greatly." The disappointment on my mother's face caused me to immediately add, "However, Mother, for your sake, I agree on spending the time at Uncle Sergey's estate. It will not be a courtship, but I shall be as kind and gentlemanly as possible with her."

Mother smiled and sat down as if she were satisfied. I was relieved, but I knew that I was not ready for any entanglements. I had plans!

Prince Hassid and I had been friends from the very beginning of our studies in the Corps des Pages. We both already spoke English; I had grown up with tutors in English, French, and German, and he had lived under the British rule in India where he had...