An Early Snow in St Petersburg

November 1913 — St. Petersburg

An early flurry of snow that fell on St. Petersburg on a late afternoon in November 1913, would change history in unexpected ways.

On that afternoon, Princess Irina Alexandrovna gazed at her suitor of the day, one of several who were regularly allowed into the Peterhof Palace.

Felix Yusupov stood at an impressive height, his chiseled features and piercing gaze commanding attention in any room he was in. Well-dressed, he came from the wealthiest family in St. Petersburg. As the two conversed throughout the afternoon, servants bringing countless rounds of tea, the atmosphere outside the palace began to change. A scattering of snowflakes began to fall. A reminder that Irina’s family would soon depart the city to escape the Russian winter. A sign that decisions needed to be made.

Felix was immersed in explaining Plato’s The Symposium to Irina. His eyes lit up as he discussed the book's discourse on the many varieties of love. “Plato stated that noble love is based on honoring a partner’s intelligence and wisdom. Base love is rooted in sexual desire. For people of our rank, isn’t it possible that we may aspire to noble love in our choice of marriage?”

Of the many suitors who visited, Felix was her favorite. He spoke a French that rivaled hers, one gained through spending each winter of her childhood in the south of France. Sometimes, she found it odd that the Romanov family spoke French in court, and not the language of the people they ruled. Even worse, the Empress could barely speak anything but German.

“You think of marriage and commitment deeply, unlike my father and brothers,” Irina said. She gazed at him in earnest, and began a path toward the question she needed to ask. “But, I’ve heard rumors–”

Irina had been considered the most beautiful young noblewoman in St. Petersburg. She had her choice of dashing young men to choose from. And, her mother had cautioned her to be wary of Felix. Her voice carried a note of caution as she recounted stories of how Felix dressed in female clothes at balls, or the gossip that he was seen cavorting with other young boys in secret. Russia is not Ancient Greece, her mother had said, eyes fixed on Irina with a mixture of protectiveness and concern. Choose a ‘normal boy’. But Irina thought of how her other suitors spent their time recounting their own heroic deeds, and didn’t appear to hear a word she said.

“As for the rumors, I do have so much affection for every human being,” Felix continued, appearing to admit the unadmittable.

Irina was prepared for this. “As long as I am the only woman.” 

Felix smiled warmly. “Which cafes do you attend in Nice?” 

Most Russians in St. Petersburg had never traveled further away than Zayachy Island. Having someone to talk freely with was refreshing. His secrets were even larger than hers, ensuring her privacy.

She told Felix of her father was a brute who only cared about drinking and shooting. That he tried to bed the house servants. And by counting how many peasant women left in tears over the years, he had succeeded on more than one occasion. Her parents’ life was full of conflict and distrust. She had vowed to find a different life, to find someone she could be fully committed to, and who would be committed to her. 

Over the winter, Irina pushed all her worries about Felix’s scandalous behavior away, and when she returned in spring, they quickly made plans to be married. That year, in a grand wedding at the Anichkov Palace, Emperor Nicholas presided over the ceremony. Irina wore a veil that had belonged to Marie Antoinette, and all the nobility of St. Petersburg were present for the finest spectacle of the season.

No one attending could have guessed that this would be the last royal wedding of the Russian Empire.

December 1916 — St. Petersburg

With World War 1 raging through Europe, Irina’s family could no longer travel to the South of France to spend the winter. As he had promised, Felix was an attentive and loving husband. As autumn turned to winter, on the coldest of days, they huddled around the fireplace, their teeth chattering as they complained about the frigid temperatures outside.

Being married to the niece of the Tsar, Felix had become more interested in the well-being of the country instead of attending balls dressed in women’s clothing to shock the prudes of St. Petersburg. He began to befriend nobles and military leaders. At first, they were hesitant, but soon they realized that being friendly with someone who might have the ear of the Tsar, and others of importance, could be a valuable asset.

But by December this year, Russia had been taking dreadful losses on the eastern front and Emperor Nicholas, the one who had presided over their wedding, went to the front line to rally the troops and prevent the defeat of their country.

With Nicholas faraway, the Empress was directing the daily actions of state. Possessing German ancestry didn’t endear her to the common people. She also disdained the gruff businessmen and military leaders who supported her husband, and instead turned her attention toward a religious charlatan, Grigori Rasputin, who had befriended the court a decade ago. 

The common people were resentful that Rasputin, a peasant from Siberia, had influence in the court. The Russian nobility despised him as being someone who had displaced them from their own position of influence.

“The people are turning against the government,” Felix told Irina. “The Empress should dismiss Rasputin.”

“I can not make a judgement. I have never met that man.”

“It’s too bad you haven’t set eyes on that menace. Rasputin avoids balls, being an ugly man, and merely lurks at the palace and whispers into the ear of the Empress,”

“Dreadful. You should avoid him,” she said. “Why my uncle married my German aunt, I don’t know. Nicholas will return soon, and this will all be over.”

Lately, Felix had been growing increasingly fearful about the fate of the country, and getting into arguments with royals he didn’t agree with. The Empress was indeed deeply unpopular with the Russian people, but Irina knew it would be safer for Felix if he didn’t stir up enemies. He might have wealth, but he did not hold a prominent position, and he was very young.

“What about the country?” Felix asked, his voice trembling with emotion.

“What about us?” she pleaded.

“Somehow, someway, Rasputin must go,” he mumbled, seemingly to himself.

A week later, Felix returned home late one evening. Traces of blood were on his trousers.

“What have you done?”

“The country will now be safe.”

Two days later, Irina's heart raced out of her chest as the servants told her policemen were at the door. The policemen looked reluctant, but carried orders to take Felix away to the custody of the Emperor's jails. 

A two week long police investigation found Felix had talked a group of nobles into murdering Rasputin at a private reception. After they tricked Rasputin into attending, they poisoned him, they shot him with a pistol, and dumped his body into an icy river for good measure. The Empress wanted Felix hanged, but due to how many people he had talked into joining his plot, Emperor Nicholas told her that wouldn’t be possible. The Romanovs had enough enemies already, and there was open celebration in the streets over Rasputin’s death.

A murderer however, and an opponent of the Empress, could not be allowed to stay in St. Petersburg. Felix was ordered into exile, to leave the city at once, for his distant ancestral village and never to return.

Irina slumped onto the couch, tears streaming down her face as she realized her life in court was over. The balls, the beauty of palaces and luxury, it was all at an end. In imperial Russia, the crimes of the husband were also the crimes of his wife.

Being sent into exile likely saved their lives. Three months later, with daily revolts and a sentiment of mutiny in the streets, Tsar Nicholas abdicated the throne. The country was thrown into chaos. Bolshevik sympathizers in the government jailed the Emperor and the Empress. The following year, they were shot and anyone else in line for the throne was hunted down and executed to prevent any chance of the Romanovs ever regaining power. Irina and Felix were out of their reach by then.

In the chaos of the revolution, Irina and Felix had received help from distant relatives in the UK monarchy, and escaped to France on board a British warship. They brought jewels and two Rembrandt paintings, which they sold, to support their lifestyle. Many other royals escaped with only the clothing on their backs.

In Paris, Felix asked, “Can you believe Grand Duke Nikolai is now driving a taxi?”

Irina frowned. “Poor Uncle Nikolai,” she said, as she showed Felix her new elegant Parisian gown. After two years of exile, she had become the most popular Russian émigré hostess, and hosted charity balls to help those in need. How life can take a turn!

It was indeed horrible what they did to her cousins and grandparents, but life is for the living, and one must move on.

December 1932 — New York

“How would you feel if you watched your wife being raped in a Hollywood film?” Felix asked Fanny Holtzman, the attorney he had engaged in New York.

“It's nearly impossible to sue MGM and win in America. The first amendment protects freedom of artistic expression,” he told Felix.

“But not libel”

“Yes. Sorry, but you and Irina are Russian nobility. You won’t find much sympathy in the American courts for a libel case.”

Felix left the meeting that day asking that something be done, even if it cost him his last dollar. Holtzman would continue to explore ways to construct a winnable case. 

A month later, they were on a ship bound for London. The film had been shown in the UK, and Fanny guessed that a UK court would be much more sympathetic to European royals in a defamation suit against an American film studio.

A decade of living an elegant lifestyle in Paris, and the ravages of the Great Depression, had taken a toll on Felix and Irina’s finances. Felix didn’t have the heart to tell Irina how destitute they may become in the near future. In Paris, he had written a salacious memoir about the fall of the Russian empire that had sold well, but the proceeds were running out.

Irina, living without servants, cooking her own dinner, was a scene Felix couldn’t imagine. He recalled how this new episode had all begun.

“We must see this new film,” Irina had asked the previous year. “Rasputin and the Empress, the three Barrymores are in it!” 

At the theater, watching John Barrymore play a Russian prince that poisons Rasputin in the film, it was obvious. “That’s me!” Felix exclaimed.

Meaning that the princess in the film raped by Rasputin, must be Irina.

“How dare they!”

“It’s just a story,” Irina said, comforting her husband as she often did.

“Did Rasputin touch you?”

“As I told you many times, I have never met the man.”

Holtzman convinced a UK judge to hear their case, and Felix and Irina appeared together in London court.There were days of deliberation-many of the laws regarding libel in film not being well defined. Felix and Irina sat nervously in the courtroom, their eyes fixed on the judge as he read out the verdict. The focus of the case had revolved around the text of the opening title card in the film.

‘Rasputin and the Empress: This concerns the destruction of an empire. A few of the characters are still alive, the rest met death by violence.’

After reading out this text, the judge said, “It is undeniable that Felix and Irina are among the very few people who survived from the Romanov family. The film clearly portrays them, leaving no room for doubt. The court agrees with the charge of libel. If MGM had stated the opposite, that the characters were purely imaginary and not meant to represent any real individual, viewers could not assume that they were Princess Irina Alexandrovna and Felix Yusupurov.”

The jury awarded Irina Alexandrovna $125,000. As there were cases pending in countries around the world that would be swayed by this verdict, MGM offered the Yusupovs $700,000 to settle them all, which they accepted. (The amount roughly equivalent to $15 million in today’s dollars).

Felix and Irina returned to the lifestyle they were accustomed to. They danced at the finest balls in Paris, ate at the best restaurants, and attended the premier of every new Hollywood film.

One night, Felix smiled as he noticed a new disclaimer at the beginning of the film:

‘The characters and events depicted in this motion picture are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to names or incidents is entirely coincidental.’

Felix wondered whether, a century from now, audiences would know this disclaimer was a consequence of him, a cross-dressing bisexual Russian prince, defending his wife’s honor.

⊱ ───ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ─── ⊰

Sources:

Wikipedia, “All Persons Fictious Disclaimer”

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/All_persons_fictitious_disclaimer

Wikipedia, “Felix Yusupov”

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Felix_Yusupov

Felix Yusupov, Lost Splendour and the Death of Rasputin (1954)

An Excerpt:

“One day when I was out riding I met a very beautiful girl accompanied by an elderly lady. Our eyes met and she made such an impression on me that I reined in my horse to gaze at her as she walked on,” Prince Felix Felixovich Yusupov wrote in his memoirs. 

One day in 1910, he was paid a visit by Grand Duke Alexander Mikhailovich and Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna and was happy to discover the girl he had seen on the riding trail was their only daughter, Irina. “This time I had plenty of time to admire the wondrous beauty of the girl who was eventually to become my wife and lifelong companion. She had beautiful features, clear-cut as a cameo, and looked very like her father.” He renewed his acquaintance with Irina in 1913 and was even more drawn to her. “She was very shy and reserved, which added a certain mystery to her charm.... Little by little, Irina became less timid. At first her eyes were more eloquent than her conversation but, as she became more expansive, I learned to admire the keenness of her intelligence and her sound judgment. I concealed nothing in my past life from her, and, far from being perturbed by what I told her, she showed great tolerance and comprehension.” Yusupov wrote that Irina, perhaps because she had grown up with so many brothers, showed none of the artifice or lack of honesty that had put him off relations with other women.

John T. Aquino, Truth and Lives on Film: The Legal Problems of Depicting Real Persons and Events in a Fictional Medium (2005)

https://books.google.com.hk/books?id=-fNWBAAAQBAJ