Fanny Lear: Love and Scandal in Tsarist Russia

Fanny Lear: Love and Scandal in Tsarist Russia

by Eva And Daniel McDonald
Fanny Lear: Love and Scandal in Tsarist Russia

Fanny Lear: Love and Scandal in Tsarist Russia

by Eva And Daniel McDonald

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Overview

Fanny Lear: Love and Scandal in Tsarist Russia tells the story of Harriet Clarissima Ely Blackford, also known as Fanny Lear. She was an American courtesan in the late nineteenth century, a strong, independent woman who refused to accept the restrictions placed on women by society at the time. In her short, adventure-filled life, her travels took her from Philadelphia to the social heights of Europe and ultimately to Tsarist Russia, where an affair with the Tsar's nephew culminated in her arrest and expulsion from Russia. Various diplomatic reports from the US State Department detail the scandalous events and the dire implications of this ill-fated love affair.

Once out of Russia, she reportedly wrote this account in English over the course of eleven days and then supervised its translation into French. Published under the title Le Roman d'une Americaine en Russie, it was an instant bestseller. It also brought on diplomatic pressure from Russia that caused her expulsion from France and Italy, although she continued to be a prominent figure in the social and celebrity sections of the European media during the 1870s and '80s.

Her account of the twenty-eight months in Russia is a love story, not only of her love for the Grand Duke, but also for Russia itself. A few copies of her book survived; it has now been translated and is presented here.


Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781475924299
Publisher: iUniverse, Incorporated
Publication date: 05/18/2012
Pages: 314
Product dimensions: 5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.70(d)

Read an Excerpt

FANNY LEAR

LOVE AND SCANDAL IN TSARIST RUSSIA
By Eva McDonald Daniel McDonald

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2011 Eva and Daniel McDonald
All right reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4759-2429-9


Chapter One

I ARRIVE IN RUSSIA

During my childhood, I studied history, and my favorite heroes were Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Peter the Great and Napoleon I.

It is because of these last two, who fascinated me immensely that I remember reading avidly about their romantic lives, one of whom became a carpenter and married a beggar (morality versus History). I also loved the story of Anna of Russia and her ice palace, and the wild splendor of the cruel Catherine the Great.

My imagination was captivated by this Country, covered in snow, by the banks of the great River Neva, which we can cross on the ice in carriages, impetuously carried away by spirited horses; by the hills of ice where you can descend with dizzying speed; above all by the summer white nights, when there is not even a bit of darkness.

I sometimes said to my mother: "This is where I will go when I grow up." My mother seemed troubled and worried and replied: "My child it will be necessary for you to travel fifteen long days over the ocean and then more days on land. You will be frozen - it is so cold there." My answer was always the same: - "Dear Mama, when I go there I will be able to wear many furs."

Nothing could make me change my mind, always filled with the dreams and imagination of a young girl. Then in November 1871, I thought it was only natural to find myself on my way to St. Petersburg.

It was a very happy journey and although I am not superstitious, I think I should have had a premonition of what was coming.

My maid was not very pleased to make this trip and kept trying to delay our departure, for one reason or another.

Finally, on November 11th, at 3.00 o'clock, I left Paris from the North Station.

As my maid was late, I wrote her a note with instructions for her to follow me by the night train and meet me in Cologne, which she did.

Berlin seemed to me cold, dark and unfriendly as usual. We left Berlin in the early morning and were headed for the land of the Tsars. I was happy and eager to see this land, all covered in white, which had been in my dreams for so long.

We arrived in the morning of the second day in Wirballan and from that moment on, I thought I would be sheltered from any kind of tribulation, but tribulation poured over me without mercy, as we will see.

To start with and to my astonishment, my books were confiscated, - they were simple novels - and I was still unaware that the press in Russia was under the control of His Majesty the Emperor.

Furthermore, of the two pieces of luggage that I had, only one arrived; naturally I was annoyed with the absence of my toiletries, without which a traveling woman feels like a soldier going into battle without ammunition.

Afterwards a kind man who tried to be understood in excellent Russian, some German and one or two words in French and English, explained to me that because my passport had no proper visa, it was necessary to send someone to Koenigsburg to rectify it. In the meantime he said I would have to wait in the station.

I pleaded and begged all without success. I was told to go upstairs where a room had been placed at my disposal.

As far as I remember, the room had a bed, a white iron basin, but no jug with water, nor any other facilities which are so common in the civilized World.

According to my maid I had the air of bewilderment, and if she were not so attached to me, she would have gladly given into the desire to imitate Lott's wife at the moment of her metamorphosis. As for me I was too far along the journey to turn back.

Meanwhile the bells rang and the locomotives started to whistle and the happy passengers who had their passports in order, departed for St. Petersburg.

After obtaining water, not without difficulty, I freshened up and decided to go downstairs for lunch and also to ask the customs chief to return some of my books, because I wanted something to read.

On entering the salon, I found my adorable little dog Lloydy in my maid's arms, having convulsions. I did all I could to save his life, but all my efforts were in vain and my dear beautiful pet died before my eyes.

I was desolated and I wished I were in a more hospitable land.

After lunch I returned to my gloomy room to mourn alone the loss of the poor little dog, victim of the Russian cold, and also to try and get some rest. However, my curiosity was stronger than my fatigue and I went to look through my window to see what this Country looked like.

The window was sealed tight and because of the dust I could not see anything.

I climbed upon the window sill and found a small spring that I wiggled and it moved the transom - this is the only part of the windows that open in Russia, which permits air into the apartments.

In my wish to see outside I put my head through the opening and the first thing that attracted my attention was a kiosk - at least that was what it looked like to me, painted in green with a delicate light blue dome, covered with golden stars.

This appeared to me to be a very picturesque sight - the colors contrasted with the leaden sky and the dazzling white of the ground.

I dressed as warmly as possible and went downstairs to the salon and asked what the kiosk was.

"It is a church," was the answer.

So, I went there despite the snow covered ground. I was amazed when entering the church with the magnificent statues in gold and silver; the ornaments and decorations, even the silk flowers appeared to be beautifully designed.

Anything that glitters always captivates me.

A peasant seemed to be waiting for me to pray. I knelt down and prayed that I would soon arrive in St. Petersburg, safe and sound and without experiencing new problems. Then I left, perhaps not with the immediate conviction that my wishes would come true, but at least with my spirit rested and satisfied.

Visits to sacred places always have this effect on me. Besides the taste for pleasure does not exclude religious sentiment as it is proved absolutely. Everyone knows by the example of two great ladies both profane and very spiritual, in character.

When I returned to the waiting room, I was met by the customs director and with him - as I found out later - an officer of the secret police.

They started talking to me, soon realizing that I did not look like a spy nor did I appear to be a black marketer or anything else that Russia might fear.

Then they asked me if I knew anyone in St. Petersburg.

"Yes," I answered. I knew several people.

"Then why don't you telegraph them? If they are influential people you may enter the Country immediately. Do you know Trepoff?

"No" (this prestigious man was still an unknown God for me), "but" I answered "I know this and that person ... and that one."

The two men shook their heads and told me that it was necessary to know someone official, a person close to the Tsar.

I thought a little more and remembered a friendly Russian man I met in Vienna. My spirits brightened up.

This gentleman had told me that if one day I was to come to Russia, he would do anything to help me find comfort and pleasure. Even if I do not have great faith in promises, I decided to try and I answered, "I know Goodenough."

"Goodenough, Goodenough!" "There is no Russian by that name," they answered.

"I beg your pardon," I said. Then I wrote down his name for them to read.

A smile of satisfaction illuminated their faces and they both shouted at the same time with firm voices.

"G ... G ... is exactly the person you should telegraph. You are an actress, aren't you?"

Seeing the light in the darkness of the dark blue sky, I answered "but of course."

I thought to myself - the World is a theater and it will be on this stage that I will play the comedy titled "Life."

The gentlemen brought me paper, pen and ink and I wrote a telegram to be sent.

I dined peacefully and I returned to my "barracks" and fell into a deep, comfortable sleep.

At two o'clock in the morning, someone knocked softly at my door. I woke up and asked "Who is there?" The security guard answered "Madame, we have received a telegram from Trepoff and you can leave tomorrow morning." Congratulating me he said he would wake me up in the morning.

Therefore, how strange it was! I came to St. Petersburg, in the same way that later I would leave, by a special order from General Trepoff.

Chapter Two

MY FIRST DAY IN ST. PETERSBURG SILVER OLD AGE

The following morning I did not need anyone to wake me up and at 8.00 o'clock we were en route. I was actually in Russia.

I loved the general appearance of the Country. I had no cause for sadness. The vast expanses of snow, without trees and every so often the appearance of a small wooden house, excited my curiosity. At the first station about 20 peasants, all wrapped in sheep skins, appeared with their long greasy beards. I thought to myself if instead of eating the wax of their candles, as people said that they did, whether they melted some of it in order to grease their beards.

The day went by very fast, eating, drinking, talking, sleeping and staring at deserts of snow. The night passed quickly and I slept as well as anyone can sleep on a train.

At 10.00 o'clock we were in St. Petersburg. We yawned, gathered our luggage, stretched our legs and rushed forward to leave the train. Everywhere we looked there was only ice and snow under a gray sky, with a freezing wind blowing in our faces.

I noticed a porter from the Hotel de France and asked him to find us a carriage. He found one, which looked like it had been used during the reign of Catherine the Great! We climbed in and were off to the hotel. The carriage shook so much that we were constantly being thrown from side to side.

We saw the broad streets around the station, a wide empty space, a wooden house, a large stone building, every so often there were church spires, large inhabited areas, a gilded dome and two blue ones, studded with stars, similar to the one that fascinated me when I arrived.

Finally, we reached the Hotel de France. I was offered a very comfortable apartment, with a cheerful fire which revived and warmed us. Even though it was midday we needed lights, because it is always dark in this season. An excellent bath relaxed me and gave me a good appetite for lunch. I ate the best bread I ever tasted. Russian bread cannot be compared to any other, since the time of Peter the Great. He issued a decree that the pharmacists and bakers must be Germans. He probably did not trust his compatriots in matters of hygiene and safety.

I slept after having written several letters - one to G ... another to Na ... I sent them by messenger. It was 5.00 o'clock when I woke up. A response from Na ... was very friendly. He requested that I make myself beautiful and added that he would call for me at midnight.

Josephine (my maid's name) had a serious and forlorn air, which made me smile. All my prettiest dresses and my beautiful accessories were in the luggage which had been lost. "It does not matter," I said, "we will make do with whatever we have." We found a black silk dress and a sleeveless pink cardigan, but alas ... there were no hairpins or belts ...

It was impossible to eat with the idea that I had been invited for supper, and when I finished dressing, I thought that neither Na ... nor midnight would ever arrive. As all comes to those who wait, Na ... finally appeared and took me in a little troika.

We did not have to travel far, because the Restaurant Vert was located on the other side of the Moika. Na ... made sure that I was sitting comfortably and was above all, well dressed. His face was kind and cordially friendly. He wanted, he said, that that evening I should be as pretty and seductive as possible, to please his guests.

I was embarrassed and nervous as I always am, whenever I am about to meet strangers.

We quickly climbed the stairs and before I had time to catch my breath, we were in a little blue room. The murmur of voices reached my ears and a second later, I found myself overwhelmed and dazzled in a room resplendent in black and yellow, with weapons whose clinking sounds echoed from everywhere; the decorations, the sabers, the buttons, the epaulettes, the lanyards, all of those sparkling confusedly before my eyes, as if I were affected by sleepwalking.

I soon found out that I was being introduced to counts, barons and princes. I answered mechanically and, only after I had a glass of vodka (something like corn whisky) and eaten zackouski (hors-d'oeuvres that the Russians eat before dinner) was I able to understand what kind of people composed this gathering. This circle of men was the silver old age. This is the term I gave this group, because of the color of their hair and beards of most of its members.

Little by little I regained my courage and I asked them many questions about their uniforms and their ranks, etc. A prince, who was the Emperor's general aide-de-camp, had seventeen decorations. Thanks to him and before the end of the supper I became an expert in the science of decorations and crosses - Stanislaus, Vladimir, Saint George and the White Eagle, etc. I soon knew the uniform of the horse guards, the guards of honor, the hussars and the Emperor's aides-de-camp, in gala and informal uniforms.

Everything pleased me immensely and as I have a good memory, I remember all the details of the evening. Interesting thing - before the end of the month I knew more about this subject than many Russians.

Sitting at the head of the table, I felt myself at ease and totally in my element.

The champagne completely strengthened me and these gentlemen in no time started paying me compliments.

They taught me how to drink "bruderschaft," as invented by their neighbors the Germans. Here is how it goes:

You pass the right arm under the one of your neighbor, then drink the glass almost to the bottom, you wipe your mouth and kiss three times, twice on the cheeks and once on the mouth, then you call each other the funniest names that come to your mind, and this way you are bound for life until death, and must always address each other with this name.

This is more often done man to man, but naturally and if you prefer, from one sex to the other.

Supper lasted until 7 o'clock in the morning. Na ... told me that the morning air would do me good and we left by troika.

We passed by the Police Bridge, on to little Millionnaya Street (named this way because of the cost to live there), on to the Winter Palace, the Marble Palace and then a rough jolt indicated that we were on the Neva River. We continued to travel at a breathtaking speed. At the right there was the dome of St. Isaac's and opposite, the golden spire of Peter and Paul and then the Fortress where all the members of the imperial family are buried.

It is there that the powerful and indomitable Peter the Great reposes; in the summer the river whose course he diverted, murmurs and sings in his honor; in spring and autumn it strikes against the walls of stone, of the master who subjected it to his wishes; and in winter it is covered in a sheet of ice protecting his tranquility.

(Continues...)



Excerpted from FANNY LEAR by Eva McDonald Daniel McDonald Copyright © 2011 by Eva and Daniel McDonald. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

Contents

INTRODUCTION....................xi
PART ONE Fanny Lear....................1
Family Background....................1
Entry into Society....................2
PART TWO The Romance of an American in Russia....................7
PART THREE Grand Duke Nicholas Constantinovich....................221
The women in his life....................236
His Children....................238
Information on GD/N.. from Uzbekistan....................242
New York Times article....................252
PART FOUR Fanny Lear's post Russia life....................263
PART FIVE Appendixes....................271
Appendix I - US National Archives articles....................271
Appendix II - Count Pyotr Schuvaloff's letter to Dr. Evans....................294
Appendix III - Fanny Lear's letter to Dr. Evans....................297
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