back, made the sign of the cross several times… They began to take seats, wrap up themselves… Set forward…” Tatiana Evgenyevna Botkina saw her father, leib-medic Evgeny Sergeevich Botkin, no more: three months later he was executed together with the Tsar’s family in Ekaterinburg. During their funeral the grandson of Doctor Botkin, the son of his daughter Tatiana, – Konstantin Konstantinovich Melnik-Botkin came to Russia from Paris for the first time. “We, the descendants of Doctor Botkin, wanted to bury Evgeny Sergeevich separately, without waiting until the dispute on the Romanovs’ remains subsided. We were ready to bury him in Ekaterinburg to perpetuate his name. I even applied to the commission. But public prosecutor Solovyev came and convinced us that everything would be solved soon. Fortunately, the funeral was held and now I can come to the motherland of my parents. I’ve come here with my wife, daughter and granddaughter – a representative of the fourth generation of the Botkins after Evgeny Sergeevich. Now it’s a comfort to me. I have three photos of my grandad. In 1912 in the Crimea – he was a happy man. In 1914 —he understood that the Empire was on the brink of ruin. And in 1917 – a photo for the pass. From these photos and his last letters one can see that in 1914 his life changed and in 1917 it ended. Probably, such was the fate of many people and of the country itself. The more so that he, the doctor, close to the Tsar, ought to have understood a lot, unnoticed by ordinary people. He had been at the war, written a book there – letters to his wife from the front. I don’t know whether the book exists in Russia. Mother had told me that when he had read this book, Nikolas II had sent for its author and from that time until their mortal hour they had practically never parted. Mother and Father lived in Tsarskoe Selo and from there she went with him in exile to Tobolsk. Mother was then 19, her younger brother – 17. She secretly corresponded with the Grand Duchesses who lived in the “House of Freedom” – so was cynically named the Tobolsk governor’s house which became the place of confinement for the Tsar’s family. The Grand Duchesses had given the letters to my grandad and he handed them over to those at freedom. I’ve got such a note with the words: “Christos voskrese, dear Tania…” Every morning Grandad would go to them and each night he would return and tell what had happened in this “House of Freedom”. When Grandad together with Nikolai Alexandrovich and Alexandra Feodorovna was exiled to Ekaterinburg, Mother wanted to go with them, too. “This is not a trip for a young girl” – a soldier said to her confidently. Apparently, he knew what would happen. So, Mother with her younger brother Gleb remained in Tobolsk by them and survived only due to the fact that they were the children of the known and respected doctor. Before he left for Ekaterinburg, Konstantin Semenovich Melnik, warrant officer of the Imperial army, my future father, had come to Tobolsk. He was of Ukranian peasant heritage, from Volynsk Province, a man having nothing in common with the world of fashion. But he had come to Tobolsk because of my grandad. The point is that during the war with the Germans my grandad had opened a hospital for the wounded in Tsarskoe Selo, and Konstantin Melnik was one of the first patients. Apparently, the relationship between the elderly doctor and the young warrant officer had been so touching that when the Revolution began and Father learned that Doctor Botkin was in Tobolsk together with the Tsar’s family, he immediately decided to organize the rescue of the Emperor and his retinue. He was a brilliant officer, wounded many times at the front, courageous, and daring. He set off through Russia where the Civil war had already begun.” Maybe, he also thought about my future mother? Surely, he had met her in Tsarskoe Selo. Maybe it was also love!” “No there was no love, Mother looked at him with arrogance – she had been brought up at court, and he was some Ukrainian… But before his leaving for Ekaterinburg Grandad had once said to this young officer: “I know that probably I’m leaving for good. It’s quite possible that I’ll never see my daughter again. Do save her. Marry her.” That is, he had given him his blessing… He was blessed. The wedding was after my father had learned about the execution in Ekaterinburg. He took his young wife and her brother to the Far East, together with the White army. Father served under Kolchak, then in Kolchak’s counter-intelligence. In Vladivostok he found a Serbian ship which was to return to Europe. The surname helped unexpectedly: the Serbians recollected that Sergei Petrovich Botkin had organized a medical aid during the war of the Serbians with the Turks. Having learned that the daughter of Sergei Petrovich was in Vladivostok, they helped save her. They went to Serbia. There they went through hard times: the times were desperate, they lived in some camps. When an opportunity arose to go to France, they set off for France as many of the other émigrés. I’ve got two elder sisters – one was born in Vladivostok, the other in Dubrovnik. I was born in a small town not far from Grenoble”
1… What does this excerpt from Doctor Botkin’s grandson’s reminiscencesinform us of? It says that really, soldiers were not indifferent to the fate of the family of Emperor Nikolas II, to his retinue and especially to his children. And naturally, they also thought about how they could help them. It was via the soldiers, that direct contacts were established with the necessary people, that is, with the outside world. I have mentioned above about Staff Captain Simonov who served on the Staff of Berzin’s Red troops in Ekaterinburg and conveyed the officers to the Whites and then served in Admiral Kolchak’s counter-intelligence. From reminiscences of Doctor Botkin’s grandson, his father – warrant officer Konstantin Melnik – was also in Kolchak’s counter-intelligence. Of course, they ought to have been acquainted with each other and compared their opinions both on the execution and on the inquiry into this case carried out at that time. If Staff Captain Simonov believed that not everybody was dead, then, probably, warrant officer Konstantin Melnik was of the same opinion. So, two officers of Kolchak’s counter-intelligence had something to do with the events connected with the possible Romanovs’ rescue. One of them was directly related to Doctor Botkin since, marrying his daughter he had saved her. Nobody has been interested in these facts so far. Such accidental coincidences can happen and the whole subsequent life of our father has testified to it. Young officer Melnik did know from Doctor Botkin about the danger threatening the family and knew that some soldier had warned him about this danger and he fulfilled the Doctor’s request. Later he could have carried out an investigation together with Staff Captain Simonov and searched for that soldier and other possible participants in the rescue of some of the Royal Family members and could have found them, but, so far, we do not know what they had known and what they could have done for the rescued people. One thing is absolutely known. These people who prepared an operation on the Royal Family rescue ought to have been familiar with the environments, to have known the people capable of making the documents ready and inventing a legend. They ought to have known where and how one could hide a man, cure him, etc. And this, in its turn, explains the fact that they had accompanied father during all his life for they lived long. And later on they passed him on, again, to reliable people. The availability of such people is testified by the fact that father had a system by which he could easily find them in the town of interest. Each street and house marked by a certain number had a corresponding name both before the Soviets and later. These were the streets known to everybody. It is clear that without these people he could not have survived. Father lived like everybody lived. He would live at one place for a long time. From 1936 on he was known as a teacher. He did not distinguish himself in this sphere, let alone tell anything to others. He was single, had no children. He would say: “It was war time. It was dangerous, life was difficult, therefore I was single.” Really, one war, industrialization, schooling, another war. From 1934 Father had lived in Tiumen Oblast, Isetsk Region. It was the place of administrative exiles, for the former aristocrats and the place of German settlements. This explains the fact that the Germans worked and taught in schools. In the Upper-Beshkil School, for example, a mathematics teacher was the German Mason. Of course, he could know much from the people who before the exile had lived in Central Russia and had contacts and information on the fate of many of their acquaintances, friends, and relatives who had lived there before the Revolution. Father had lived in the forested places, near the Urals, where G.E. Rasputin had lived. He was a free-time student. He had to earn his living, to eat. His full-time schooling had lasted for only two years. Between 1934 and 1936 an advantage in his work was that he had a long vacation in summer and was free of his job. He had an opportunity to travel, as he called
