ROMANOVS

On top of Vladimiro Kalva, a park above the city of Kiev, overlooked by the monastery of St. Mikhail, there’s a stunning view of the Dnieper River and the capital of Ukraine.

There’s not too much to enjoy these days, and people no longer stroll around as in the past, ever since Russia invaded eastern Ukraine and Kiev itself became a rocket target for more than a year. Blame the Mikhails for all that.

For millennia, the verdant lands of Eastern Europe—where the Dnieper, Volga, and Don rivers wend their way through vast forests and steppes—were among the most deserted places: only primitive tribes inhabited the region, far from the civilization of the Roman Empire.

Centuries after the fall of Rome, a small state called the Kievan Rus emerged as a powerful federation of Slavic peoples. Founded in the late 9th century by Prince Rurik, a Varangian (proto-Viking) warrior, it became a melting pot of cultures, languages, and traditions: a connecting point between Norse traders, Byzantines from the south, and native Slavic peoples.

Kiev, now the capital of modern Ukraine, was the heart of this early federation—a bustling metropolis that stood as a testament to the Rus’ thriving trade, culture, and influence. From here sprang the seeds of what would become modern Russia.

The Kievan Rus laid down the roots of Eastern Orthodox Christianity and codified legal customs, setting a foundation that would shape the region’s identity for centuries. Those rulers were referred to as Tsars in the local language: the word was simply a corruption of the Latin “Caesar”, meaning emperor.

As the Kievan Rus fragmented and declined due to internal strife and external pressures, the stage was set for the rise of Moscow and the formation of a new Russian state. It was in this tumultuous landscape of shifting alliances and emerging powers that the Romanov dynasty would emerge, forging a new empire that inherited the legacy of the Kievan Rus and reshaped Eastern Europe.

In the heart of a snow-clad Russia, the Time of Troubles marked a turning point in the nation’s history. It was a period of deep social crisis, lawlessness, and foreign invasion, following the death of Feodor I in 1598—a weak and possibly intellectually disabled ruler who died without an heir.

His death ended the Rurik dynasty, leading to a violent succession crisis with numerous usurpers and false Dmitrys (impostors) claiming the title of Tsar. After almost 20 years of chaos, a new ruler emerged: Mikhail Romanov. Born in 1596 into a noble family, Mikhail was a distant relative of the extinct Rurik dynasty, which had laid the foundations of Russian statehood centuries earlier.

Mikhail ascended the throne in 1613, at the unlikely age of just sixteen. Chosen by an assembly of Russian nobles eager to restore order, Mikhail’s coronation symbolized the nation’s yearning for stability and continuity.

His reign marked not only the beginning of the Romanov dynasty but also the continuation of the centuries-old legacy of the Ruriks, albeit under a new lineage. Under Mikhail’s rule, Russia began a journey of recovery and consolidation. From the Kremlin’s gilded chambers, echoing with the tumultuous past, he laid the groundwork for centralized autocratic rule - a path his descendants would follow and expand.

The dynasty’s early years were marked by efforts to restore internal peace, rebuild the economy, and strengthen the military, setting the stage for the Romanovs’ imperial expansion and the grandeur that would define their reign.

The Romanov dynasty flourished further under the reign of Catherine the Great in the 18th century. A ruler of immense intellect and ambition—but at the same time described as extremely unattractive, which did not prevent her from having numerous affairs - she continued the process of modernization initiated by Peter.

Her reign was marked by territorial expansions, significant cultural and scientific advancements, and a golden age in the arts. Catherine transformed St. Petersburg into a dazzling cultural capital, patronizing the arts and overseeing the expansion of the Hermitage. Under her rule, the city became a beacon of Enlightenment, attracting artists, scientists, and thinkers.

Her reign, often seen as the pinnacle of the Romanov dynasty’s influence, significantly shaped Russia’s identity as a major European power.

As the 19th century dawned, the Romanovs, now firmly entrenched in power, took the final step toward establishing themselves as a European monarchy: they intertwined with the British royal family.

For ages, kings across Europe used marriages to reinforce their crowns. So did the Romanovs. In 1894, Nicholas II, the poised yet politically naive Tsar, married Alexandra of Hesse. She was born in Germany, but Queen Victoria was her grandmother.

The marriage was more than a union of hearts—it was a strategic move in the great game of European politics. This Anglo-Russian connection, marked by both kinship and diplomacy, carried the hope of long-term geopolitical influence but instead marked the twilight of both a dynasty and an empire. Ultimately, Russia would become Great Britain’s bitter enemy.

More than the Nazis, Communism would become England’s greatest fear.

One reason for the downfall goes by the name of Grigori Rasputin, a mystic from Siberia who captivated the Romanov court. As “rasputin” came to symbolize “the man behind the curtain,” the real Rasputin was just as notable for his physical presence as he was for his controversial influence.

Standing tall with a commanding stature, Rasputin had piercing dark eyes that many described as hypnotic. His long, unkempt hair and beard, along with his customary peasant attire, gave him an almost otherworldly appearance—a stark contrast to the opulence of the imperial court.

Born in 1869 in a small Siberian village, Rasputin was known for his alleged healing powers and prophetic abilities. His rise from obscurity to becoming a confidant of Tsarina Alexandra was meteoric, largely due to his claim of alleviating the suffering of her hemophiliac son, Alexei. His influence over the royal family led to widespread speculation and distrust, contributing to the public’s growing dissatisfaction with Romanov rule.

The details of Rasputin’s death in 1916, amid the Russian Revolution, are as dramatic as his life. Conspirators, fearing his influence, reportedly poisoned him with cyanide-laced cakes and wine—but the poison seemed to have no effect. Panicking, they shot him multiple times. Despite being shot, Rasputin showed signs of life, leading to further attempts on his life, including a final shot to the head and his eventual drowning after being thrown into the icy Neva River.

The autopsy reports were inconclusive about the exact cause of death, adding to the mystique surrounding his final moments. Rasputin’s dramatic and mysterious demise, coupled with his distinctive physical appearance and rumored supernatural powers, only fueled the legends about his life, making him a symbol of the enigmatic and troubled final years of the Romanov dynasty.

As the Romanovs navigated the treacherous waters of early 20th-century politics, a storm was brewing—one that would engulf all of Russia in its wake. The dynasty was synonymous with extraordinary wealth and extravagance.

Their fortune was not only in liquid assets but also included an immense collection of art, jewels, and property—comparable to billions in today’s dollars. The Romanovs were among the wealthiest monarchs in history. Their palaces and estates were legendary for their opulence.

The Winter Palace in St. Petersburg and the Alexander Palace in Tsarskoye Selo were filled with priceless artworks, antique furniture, and luxurious decorations. Their personal possessions included a collection of Fabergé eggs—each a masterpiece of craftsmanship and a symbol of imperial excess.

The burgeoning voice of revolution was embodied by the steely-eyed politician Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov—better known as Lenin. While the Romanovs enjoyed the high life, millions of peasants suffered miserable lives of famine and freezing winters. The Russian Ancien Régime was doomed.

In April 1917, Lenin made his dramatic return to Russia—a journey that began in the neutral lands of Finland and culminated in a sealed train ride to St. Petersburg, organized to avoid arrest. This journey, facilitated by German Kaiser Wilhelm II, in a calculated move to further destabilize Russia, was a catalyst for the impending upheaval.

Lenin, with his relentless rhetoric and unwavering commitment to the extremist cause, arrived amidst the chaos of a collapsing nation. His arrival ignited the flames of revolution in the hearts of the discontented masses. The Bolshevik Revolution had begun.

For the Romanovs, ensconced in their palatial isolation, the cries for change were distant rumblings - until they erupted into the clamor of upheaval. The Tsar’s abdication, a desperate attempt to quell the tide, came too late. The dynasty that had reigned for three centuries was about to face its twilight. A new era was being ushered in, with Lenin founding a new state under Soviet rule.

The final act of the Romanov dynasty unfolded not in the grand halls of St. Petersburg’s palaces but miles away, in the city of Yekaterinburg, in the middle of the Russian steppe, within the somber walls of Ipatiev House. This ordinary-looking building became the final prison for Nicholas II and his family.

In the wake of the Tsar’s abdication and the chaos of the Russian Civil War, the Bolsheviks, seeking to eliminate any symbol of the imperial past, chose a grim course of action.

In a desperate attempt to escape their fate, the Romanovs reached out to their royal relatives in Europe, including King George V of Britain, the grandson of Queen Victoria and a cousin to Nicholas II’s wife. The Tsar, once a powerful monarch, found himself pleading for asylum, hoping that blood ties would secure sanctuary for his family.

The plea to the British king, who shared a striking resemblance to Nicholas due to their familial connections, became a poignant reminder of the fragility of alliances and the isolating nature of power. Despite initial willingness, the British government—led by Prime Minister David Lloyd George—fearing political backlash, the instability of a war-torn continent, and the spread of Communism, ultimately withdrew the offer.

The denial from their powerful relatives left the Romanovs stranded and vulnerable to the turbulence of the Russian Revolution.

In the early hours of July 17, 1918, the Romanov family, along with a few loyal servants, were awakened and assembled in a basement room under the pretext of a safety measure due to impending chaos in the city.

What followed was one of the most harrowing and brutal moments in royal history. The family, unsuspecting, was suddenly confronted by a firing squad. The execution was swift but chaotic—a gruesome finale to a dynasty that had ruled Russia for over three centuries.

The aftermath was shrouded in secrecy. The bodies were hastily buried in a concealed grave in a forest near Yekaterinburg. Their final burial place would remain unknown for decades.

The brutality of their end, and the mystery surrounding the fate of their remains, added a dark chapter to the Romanovs’ story. It was a tragic coda symbolizing the violent transition from imperial Russia to the Soviet era. A centuries-old empire disappeared. The USSR was born—one that would last only a fraction of the Romanov dynasty’s reign.

Decades after the fall of the Romanovs, the mystery of their final resting place continued to intrigue historians and the public alike. It wasn’t until the waning days of the Soviet Union, in 1991, that a breakthrough occurred.

A hidden grave in the forests near Yekaterinburg was uncovered, revealing remains believed to be those of the Romanov family.

Forensic analysis and DNA testing - including comparisons with living relatives like Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh - eventually confirmed the identities of Nicholas II, his family, and their servants. The discovery brought a sense of closure to a chapter long shrouded in mystery and speculation.

In the post-Soviet era, as Russia attempted to reconcile with its tumultuous past, President Boris Yeltsin took a significant step. In a symbolic gesture aimed at healing historical wounds, Yeltsin offered a state funeral for the Romanovs.

In 1998, the remains of the Romanov family were interred in the St. Catherine Chapel of the Peter and Paul Cathedral in St. Petersburg—a site traditionally used for the burial of Russian Tsars.