Catherine's Men: A Historical Biography

By Dezarae DUNSMUIR

This is the true account of Lady Catherine Nabokov's life, living through the turbulent times before and during the Russian Revolution and her escape to immigrate to Canada, settling in Edmonton, Alberta.  This is the story of her husbands, her loves, the tragedies, the transgressions, the breaches of trust, her suffering and her surviv

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dragon's Press
• Release date: Jul 31, 2018
• ISBN: 9781949276022

Dezarae DUNSMUIR

Dezarae Dunsmuir is a celebrated author and poet. Born in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, she was prolific even as a child. At age 8, as a ballerina, she danced on stage with Mikhail Baryshnikov. At age 9, she hosted a television series about science. She went on to be syndicated coast to coast on radio, interviewing celebrities and offering valuable insights on issues important in Canada.

Book preview

Serozha Nickolevitch

But I don’t want to get married and I refuse to do so!

With that pronouncement, Catherine fled the room in a flounce of skirts, her two faithful Wolfhounds trailing after her. She rushed to her bedroom and threw herself onto her chaise lounge, which was in front of the windows that provided her with her favorite view. The city of Odessa, Russia, lay before her. From her vantage point of the mansion on the highest hill in the city, she could see it sprawled out before her in all its alluring glory.

Catherine admired the lemon and lime trees that bordered the broad avenues and guarded the gardens of the wealthy. She watched the shiny, glittering carriages pulled by handsome horses float up and down the streets. Best of all, Catherine could see the steps leading to the sea, the feature of the woman that was Odessa that Catherine loved best. As the Wolfhounds lay on the Turkish carpet beneath the chaise, Catherin wiped tears from her eyes as she stared out at the sea. The brave front she posed in front of her parents crumbled and she began to cry in earnest, like the mere slip of a girl barely out of childhood that she was.

‘I don’t even know Serozha. I’ve barely glimpsed him at balls and musicales and hardly seen much more of him at dinner parties. All the girls think he’s handsome and definitely the catch of all the available bachelors. I don’t know Serozha Nickolevitch and I am most certainly not marrying a man I do not even know,’ she thought.

As she wiped more tears from her eyes, Catherine also admitted to herself that fighting her parents, especially her father on this matter, would be hopeless. She was not only well schooled; Catherine was well trained in the mores expected of a young woman in her position. She knew about noblesse oblige and she also knew that marriages in her circle were seldom made for love: they were alliances and more like business deals, really.

Discerning whether, or not, a young man was an eligible candidate had little - very little - to do with whether the young man cared for the young woman and vice versa. Neither party had much say in the matter.

Their parents made the decisions and the young people obediently went along with them. It was an accepted fact of life and fighting against it was pointless.

‘Serozha Nickolevitch is too old for me: he’s twenty-three, almost an old man!’ She was becoming angry again.

‘What am I to do with an old man like that? What could I possibly find to talk to him about?’

‘I don’t even like spending much time with my female friends: I prefer my horses and dogs to their silly giggling and endless prattle about boys and marriage. I don’t understand why they are so interested in boys and marriage. I would be happy to stay here with Momma and Poppa forever. I don’t want to marry anyone, especially not that old man Serozha Nickolevitch!’ She fumed.

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Our daughter is certainly opinionated and perhaps a little spoiled, as Catherine’s father, Haracim, spoke, his stern countenance belying his disappointment at his daughter’s reaction to the news she was just given.

A little spoiled, yes, and opinionated, very, but that’s our fault, Haracim. We always encouraged her to think for herself and to speak her mind, responded Eudoxia.

It is also the case that she is well trained in our ways and will marry Serozha Nickolevitch if that is our wish.

I hope the words from your mouth go to God’s ears because we will have our hands full with our daughter and this marriage business.

It will be a bit of a struggle but she will do what we ask in the end, replied Eudoxia.

I plan to announce the engagement at a ball we will hold in one month’s time. The marriage will take place the required one-year after that. Catherine will be sixteen and well within marrying age by then. The dowry has already been agreed upon and Serozha’s father is undoubtedly delivering the good news to his son at this very moment.

Good, answered Eudoxia firmly.

I have a very important ball to plan and a very willful daughter to convince, so I’d best be started.

Eudoxia rose to leave the room. As she made her way to the door, her husband called after her, Serozha Nickolevitch will find our Catherine a hard horse to tame; I don’t envy him one bit.

Never fear, Catherine is a good girl and a smart one at that. She will come around eventually, Eudoxia responded over her shoulder as she closed the library door behind her.

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Haracim was right: Serozha was being informed of his betrothal and upcoming marriage at the same time.

Father, I have no idea who this Catherine person is. I think I’ve glimpsed her at socials and the like; I’ve never even danced with her at a ball, not once, Serozha protested.

How can I possibly marry a girl barely out of childhood that I’ve never even spoken to?

You can and you will because you are my son, growled Yuri, Serozha’s father.

"The girl is pleasing in appearance and all reports show her to be of the utmost character. Most important of all, her dowry is considerable to say the least. The Duke’s holdings far exceed ours - and ours are considerable.

Your fortunes will improve with this marriage, thusly improving this family’s. The matter is not up for discussion. You’ve been living the life of a young nobleman and almost becoming a rake. Time to settle down, time to improve your family’s fortunes, so betrothed and married you will be," Yuri’s voice was surly.

He was weary of this discussion. He lit a cigar and opened his newspaper to indicate there would be no more chatter about his decision.

Serozha stood, crestfallen. He had been enjoying his life to the fullest, flitting from one flirtation to another and pursuing other gentlemanly pastimes. He loved riding, gambled only to be sociable, enjoyed drinking with his friends, and attending all the usual social functions.

For Serozha, life had always been good and as he entered adulthood, it became exemplary. Now it was all grinding to a halt quite suddenly and the entire notion of it ending depressed him.

Yes father, of course I shall do as you ask, he said in a monotone, bowing in acquiescence as he left his father’s smoking room.

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Word of the betrothal spread rapidly through the social set. Even though the official announcement had not been made, the entire social circle of the city was atwitter with the news. The talk was of little else, especially focusing on the upcoming ball, at which the official announcement of the engagement was to be made.

Much to Catherine’s chagrin, all her friends seemed to have lost their ability to talk about anything else. They constantly peppered her with questions about the ball, the upcoming marriage and most of all, Serozha.

I don’t care about the ball, the stupid upcoming marriage and least of all that old man Serozha Nickolevitch, Catherine’s voice was almost a snarl.

Her group of friends all leaned back away from her as one, mouths open in shock.

Surely you don’t mean it, Katya, said Tatianna, her closest friend.

This is all so exciting, aren’t you excited? she queried.

No, I’m not, not in the least, Catherine almost stamped her foot for emphasis.

I would be quite happy to have my horses and dogs and never, ever get married. This man that you all say is such a catch, is a complete stranger to me. Doesn’t that matter to any of you? How would you feel being sold like a prized horse, because that’s how I feel, like I’m being sold!

Catherine’s voice dissolved into tears. She contradicted her training and wept openly in front of people who were not family.

Katya, Katya, cooed Tatiana as she put her arm around her friend’s shuddering shoulder,

It’s not that bad. You are marrying the most handsome young man in Odessa; he comes from a good family and is a complete gentleman in every sense of the word. You, my dear friend, should be crying tears of joy, not sorrow. Your life is finally about to begin, your life as a woman. Your father would never let you marry some brute, you know that, Katya, soothed Tatiana, using the diminutive of Catherine.

Katya, you’re growing up and you are the envy of all the girls in our circle, you should think about that, dear one.

At that moment, all of Catherine’s friends gathered round her and started chirping at once like little songbirds. They all told her how lucky she was and spent several minutes comforting her and cheering her up. Eventually, Catherine dried her eyes and kissed each of them, thanking them. As it was time for high tea, the entire group went to the parlor together as one.

Catherine held Tatiana’s hand and whispered a thank you, with a wan smile, as they made their way down the stairs.

I’ll do better, I promise, she whispered to Tatiana, after all, what choice do I have?

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Eudoxia was determined to have her ball be the social event of the season. There was no expense to be spared. The decorations and the keepsakes were created by the famed house of Faberge. The keepsakes were made for the wives of the men who attended the ball. Less expensive gifts were ordered for the young men and women, as well as special cigars for the men who would be present.

The finest musicians Odessa had to offer were engaged for the event, as were some folk dancers to entertain the crowd during the interludes when the musicians would be on a break.

The food was to be made by the finest chefs and the Beluga caviar was ordered, as were kegs of champagne.

The servants set to cleaning the mansion, as well as polishing silver and washing crystal so that all the service pieces gleamed in the light. Every candelabrum was filled with new candles and all the chandeliers lowered so they could be cleaned and have new candles put in them, too.

It was rumored the Tsar and Tsarina would be making an appearance. All in all, the mansion and all the elements that made for a successful ball were the finest Odessa had ever seen. That was just the way Eudoxia wanted it and she had succeeded.

Regardless of how involved and time consuming the preparations for the ball were, preparing Catherine’s dress - and Catherine herself - for the upcoming evening was not an easy task for Eudoxia.

Initially, Catherine refused to participate in any way. She took no part in choosing the material for her gown, much less venturing an opinion on the style. Once the fabric and style hurdles were overcome, with Catherine maintaining a stubborn silence during the entire process, she refused to appear for the all too necessary fittings. Time was running out, as was Eudoxia’s patience.

Listen you little devil, she hissed at Catherine one day after yet another missed fitting, time is running out and like it or not, you will be fitted for the gown and you will be pleasing in your dealings with the seamstress. I will not have it bandied about the serving class of this city that my daughter is a spoiled brat.

She pinched Catherine’s arm, hard, for emphasis. Catherine winced with the momentary pain, which was nothing compared to the pain she felt in her heart.

‘Momma and I have always been close and now look at us, all because of this betrothal. Doesn’t she realize I am doing these things to show I hate the merest thought of all this marriage nonsense? Dowry or no dowry, the entire process could be halted if my parents agreed, but they are determined to see this through and send me off to a life with a stranger.’

‘It pains me so to see Momma angry with me and I suppose I know she’s right: I have been behaving badly, but only to show my disdain for the whole affair. There is no escape: this will happen no matter what I say or do, so I suppose I’d better make the best of it. I can’t tolerate Momma’s anger: she’s always been my confidante and source of wisdom. She and Poppa know best, so I will - with great reluctance - go along with their plans.’

Don’t be angry with me Momma. Do you still love me? Are we still friends? I can’t bear it if you’re angry with me. You’re right, Momma, as always. Let’s go see the seamstress now, before she leaves, responded Catherine.

Although she was stunned at this sudden turnaround in her daughter’s attitude, Eudoxia welcomed the change. Catherine was famous for her turnarounds.

Oh Katya, Katya, what am I to do with you? I am your Mother: I love you. Of course we’re still friends, we will be to the day I die.

Eudoxia bundled Catherine up in her arms and gave her a great hug.

Life will be good with Serozha, you’ll see. Don’t forget I hardly knew Poppa when we became betrothed and look at us now: 12 children later and how I came to love him.

"You are my last, my youngest daughter and you shall have the most lavish wedding of all my daughters. Your brothers and sisters are all married now and I am sad to see that you’ll be leaving the nest.

These halls will be empty and the rooms full of memories, except when my grandchildren visit but it will warm my heart to know you are safe and happy in your marriage," she smiled broadly at Catherine as they walked up the stairs, to the room where the seamstress was waiting.

My beautiful daughter is about to embark on a beautiful life.

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The ball was hailed as the social success of the season, just as Eudoxia wished it to be. The official announcement of the engagement occurred and Catherine was sporting a spectacular 10-carat diamond ring to mark the betrothal.

Initially, Catherine was quite shy around Serozha, unused to being around boys much, much less him – a new fiancé. Having to dance, eat and make conversation with him was not easy for her at first. Surprisingly, she found him to be a considerate escort, who possessed a wit, which was much to Catherine’s liking. Once they started discussing horses and horsemanship, chatting with Serozha became very easy for Catherine.

She soon began forgetting that he was so much older than she was and found herself thinking that young men in her set usually married women who were a fair bit younger than they were. Unfortunately, the main reason was because younger women usually had a greater chance of surviving the rigors of pregnancy and child bearing, thus providing the all-too-necessary heirs the families required.

Needless to say, the courtship of Catherine carried on for the required year. The couple attended all manner of social events and came to enjoy one another’s company, while always under the strict supervision of chaperones. The pair was never alone. Catherine came to forget she had ever resisted the thought of marriage to anyone, much less Serozha and for himself, Serozha came to feel the same about Catherine.

If at all possible, Catherine’s wedding was more lavish and peopled than her betrothal ball. It, too, was the smashing success of that year’s social season. Catherine’s trousseau was extensive and she had quite a bit of baggage to transport to the home she and Serozha were to share.

Although it was considered fairly unorthodox, Serozha had consulted Catherine for her ideas about where she would like to live and the house they were to make a home. Her requirements were few: it had to be on a hill overlooking the steps to the sea, it had to have a grand ballroom as she had come to enjoy dancing with her husband, it had to have exquisite gardens and wonderful stables. All in all, these were rather mundane requests and Serozha’s agent found an estate that suited them perfectly. After a tour of the great cities of Europe, which would last three months, the couple would return to the house and make it their home.

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While all was rosy for the lives of the nobility and the monied classes, life was far from it for the serfs or the serving class not only of Odessa but also all over Russia. For them, times were usually hard but over the last years, times had grown bitterly hard. Public demonstrations, which in the past were unheard of, became more common.

The numbers of people motivated enough to hand out political pamphlets railing against living conditions and - more and more frequently - against the Tsar and Tsarina were growing. The pamphlets were becoming more virulent against the Tsarina, whom the Russian populace never took to for a variety of reasons. Most notable among them were her German heritage and her rumored affair with the mad monk, Rasputin. Social unrest was beginning a slow spread across cities of the land.

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Serozha may have been in the coddled nobility but he was no fool. He read newspapers; he sensed the growing unrest on the streets. He’d even seen the remnants of a demonstration the Dragoons had broken up: there were banners and bloody, shattered bodies everywhere.

Serozha knew there was every chance this cancer would continue to grow and spread throughout the society as a whole. It had crossed his very own threshold: he had found a seditious pamphlet in the possession of one of his gardeners. He had fired the man unceremoniously with no references, thereby guaranteeing him a life of grinding poverty, which then and there created another disgruntled citizen who would welcome the coming revolution.

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Come to bed, husband, your pacing is keeping me awake, Catherine called to her Serozha from across their massive bedroom.

What is it keeping you up this night?

She was concerned: her husband was having more and more of these nights of late. Truth be told, she was quite worried: Serozha was starting to look peaked and a bit haggard. He was spending more time than usual closeted in conferences with his father and yet he told her nothing. In Serozha’s world, husbands protected their wives from the stresses of daily life; they especially protected them from concerns about the downfall of society and the end of their way of life altogether.

Catherine may have been cosseted but she was no fool, either. She’d heard the gossip about what was going on in the society around her. She’d grilled the housekeeper until the woman broke down and told her why the gardener had been let go with no references. Catherine made a point of extracting information from the household staff; what she couldn’t get from questioning, she acquired by threatening them with firing. Indeed, Catherine was quite well informed for a female member of her class.

She was doing her best to pretend she was naive for Serozha’s sake but nothing could be further from the truth.

Nothing too serious is keeping me awake, my pet, responded Serozha.

Just some trouble with the crops this spring, that’s all.

He hoped his wan smile was convincing his wife as he climbed into bed.

Don’t you worry your pretty little head about me, it’s nothing, he smiled in earnest now as he kissed her goodnight.

‘He thinks I know nothing. He thinks I don’t know why he’s pacing, night after night but he’s wrong. I know what’s wrong all too well,’ she thought as she kissed her husband good night.

Get some rest, my love. I’m sure things will look brighter in the morning, Catherine reassured her husband as she lowered the wick on the bedside lamp.

‘If only that was true,’ Serozha thought ruefully, ‘if only that was true.’

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The civil unrest worsened in proportion to the bad times. Things in Russian society were looking bleak: the structure supporting the upper classes and the nobility was as old as time itself but it was being eroded from the bottom by the people who were the very foundation of the structure as a whole.

It had begun with the serving classes in the cities, was slowly making its way to the serfs in the countryside and infiltrating even some of the police and military factions. All of these people were beginning to express their disgruntlement more and more vociferously. It was becoming apparent that massive, serious, even violent change was soon going to be afoot in all the land. This type of change would alter life in Russia forever.

All of this preyed upon Serozha, minute after minute, day after night. There was nothing Catherine could do to appease him. She watched her husband growing more anxious and more haggard, every day. Soon the inevitable depression began to set in; Serozha quit pacing. In fact, he found it difficult to leave his bed in the morning. When Serozha would finally muster up his energy and rise, he didn’t bother to dress. A dressing gown over his nightshirt had replaced the dapper fashions he had previously sported, somewhat like a peacock. If he made it out of his bed, he often retired to his favorite chaise lounge for the rest of the day.

The closeted meetings with his father had come to an abrupt halt. Serozha could see the writing on the wall: life as he knew it would soon be over. His adored Mother Russia was going to enter into a state of violent upheaval, a state that seemed inevitable. He couldn’t bear the thought of the servants ruling over him and his family. Serozha was overwhelmed with the despair of the coming upheaval: he didn’t like the thought of the tables turning in society one bit. He literally cringed at the thought of the servants sleeping in the bedrooms of his house, ordering him about, just as he had done to them so often. Or worse yet, killing him and his family.

Catherine’s hands were tied. She was one woman; she could not stop the wheels that were beginning to grind society down. She was aghast, worried and frustrated with her husband. Here he was lounging about, when he should be making plans for the family’s survival. Catherine knew that a revolution would mean she and other members of the nobility would have to be very creative in fighting for their very lives. It seemed unthinkable to many of her friends but she knew in her bones that what was coming would be far from a peaceful change: it would be bloody and violent.

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Catherine went to visit her family. Her mother had been her source of solace and wisdom all her life: perhaps she could offer some advice.

All he does is lay about, moaning about how life is pointless because with the changes afoot, life won’t be worth living anymore, Catherine was wiping tears from her eyes with her lace handkerchief.

He’s right to be concerned, we all are, responded Eudoxia, worry furrowing her brow.

Your father is quite concerned, even though he puts on a brave front for my benefit.

I know it sounds selfish and uncaring of me, but I wish Serozha would get out of bed and put on a brave front, Catherine’s voice was bordering on a wail.

I know what’s coming: he should be making plans to protect and save us. Yet all he does is lay in bed or on his chaise all day. He doesn’t speak anymore. If he does say something, it’s always a complaint about life being pointless once the Revolution comes.

Hush, hush, Katya, Eudoxia enfolded her daughter in a hug and gently rocked her back and forth, smoothing her hair, just as she did when Catherine was a child.

There, there, it will be fine. We’ll think of something, you’ll see. Maybe Poppa should have a chat with him. Do you think that would help?

Eudoxia held Catherine at arm’s length and she had a questioning look on her face.

I just don’t know, Mama, I just don’t know what to do and I hate it!

Catherine was wailing in earnest now.

Do you really think Poppa can talk some sense into Serozha? Do you really think so?

She raised her tear stained face to her mother, Do you? she asked again.

Truth be told, I don’t know what will help Serozha, Eudoxia responded.

It certainly couldn’t hurt now, could it? Things can’t get any worse with him, can they?

Little did either woman know that things could get worse, much worse; not just for Serozha, but for Catherine, too.

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Get up, my love, get up,