Hidden Account of the Romanovs

Copyright © 2013 by John Browne.

Page and print design by John Browne.

Cover design by John Browne.

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Profits from this edition will be shared with Grenadier Charities.

Certain characters in this work are historical figures, and certain events portrayed did take place. However, this is a work of fiction. All of the other characters, names, and events as well as all places, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4759-7832-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-7833-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-7834-6 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013907564

iUniverse rev. date: 05/17/2013

Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Preface

PART ONE

Chapter 1:   Close The Account

Chapter 2:   A Shaky Start

Chapter 3:   Imperial Players

Chapter 4:   Imperial Russia

Chapter 5:   Quiet Before The Storm

Chapter 6:   A Local Difficulty!

Chapter 7:   A Growing American Interest

Chapter 8:   Playing With Matches

Chapter 9:   A Russian Day In London

Chapter 10:   King’s Guard

Chapter 11:   Drums Herald A Sea Of Tears

Chapter 12:   Painful Retreat 2nd Battalion Grenadier Guards

Chapter 13:   The Western Front

Chapter 14:   Christmas In Saint Petersburg

Chapter 15:   Christmas In The Trenches

Chapter 16:   A Royal Sniper

Chapter 17:   A Man Called Churchill

Chapter 18:   1916—A Year Of Change

Chapter 19:   Britain Bleeds White

Chapter 20:   Rasputin—MI6 Target

Chapter 21:   The Somme—1st July To 18th

November 1916

Chapter 22:   Rasputin Murdered

Chapter 23:   Freedom Of The Skies

Chapter 24:   Abdications

Chapter 25:   Cruel And Unusual Punishment

Chapter 26:   Combat Flying

Chapter 27:   Learning Tactics From A Legend

Chapter 28:   Financing The Great Tyranny

Chapter 29:   Special Assignment

Chapter 30:   Russian Mission

PART TWO

Chapter 31:   Doors Close

Chapter 32:   Murders Most Foul

Chapter 33:   Interim Assessment

Chapter 34:   Survival Window

Chapter 35:   Diplomatic Confusion

Chapter 36:   Red Deserts

Chapter 37:   Murders Explained

Chapter 38:   Cossack Contact

Chapter 39:   DNA Investigations

Chapter 40:   Hell Revisited

Chapter 41:   Cossack Camp

Chapter 42:   Frustrating Attraction

Chapter 43:   A New And Improved Red Army

Chapter 44:   War Ends, But Not Within Russia

Chapter 45:   Conference In Omsk

Chapter 46:   Stalin Chozen For Pursuit

Chapter 47:   Fear And Relief

Chapter 48:   Attack On Perm

Chapter 49:   Predators Select Their Prey

Chapter 50:   Perm

Chapter 51:   Winter Quarters

Chapter 52:   Spies Deploy

Chapter 53:   A Crack In Sasha’s Cover

Chapter 54:   Stalin Briefed

Chapter 55:   A Grenadier Repost

Chapter 56:   Union

Chapter 57:   Red Targets

Chapter 58:   New Orders

Chapter 59:   Checka On The Scent

Chapter 60:   Desperate Flight

Chapter 61:   On Track

Chapter 62:   Attempted Arrest

Chapter 63:   Imperial Colour

Chapter 64:   Mountian Barrier

Chapter 65:   Re-Evaluation

Chapter 66:   Ambush

Chapter 67:   Rebirth In Siberian Tranquility

Chapter 68:   Rivers

Chapter 69:   Redeployment

Chapter 70:   The Devils Den

Chapter 71:   Siberian Revelations

Chapter 72:   Arrest

Chapter 73:   Final Report

Bibliography

DEDICATION

To:

Mother, Father, Gillian, Susan and Richard: to The Imperial Family and to all who served their countries in the Great War and Russian Civil War.

Freemen gave us it,

We grew to love it.

We enlisted to defend it,

We fought to uphold it.

We died generously for it,

Now, we entrust you with it,

Value, honour and defend it,

For it, dear friend, is freedom.

JB–May 2013

Acknowledgements

I would like to acknowledge the help of those who have assisted in providing and verifying factual information for this book:

Mr. Sean Bolan for painting the portrait of the fictitious Alexander Fanshawe and for permission to reprint his painting of Chelsea Barracks.

Captain J. W. H. Buxton, formerly Grenadier Guards, for kindly helping with certain additional details of Harrow School.

Captain G. J. H. Cordle, formerly Grenadier Guards and a Godson, for inviting me to the small but historic and most moving parade at Buckingham Palace in 2003 on which the Russian Imperial Grenadier Colour was handed over to President Putin by HRH The Prince Philip, Colonel, Grenadier Guards.

Edward Clive and Sally Hazlehurst, for certain additional information on and photograph of Captain Percy Clive DSO, MP (Edward’s great grandfather.)

Major General B. C. Gordon Lennox, CB, MBE, formerly Grenadier Guards, for kindly providing photographs of his grandfather and fellow officers.

Field Marshall The Lord Guthrie of Craigiebank, GCB, LVO, OBE, DL, formerly Welsh Guards, SAS and a Sandhurst contemporary, for access to the poem, The Guards.

Mr. and Mrs. Rufus Griscom for allowing me to write briefly while staying at their farm, in northern Maine, amid country almost identical to that around Yekaterinburg and the southern Ural mountains.

Lieutenant Colonel H. S. Hanning, formerly Grenadier Guards and a Sandhurst contemporary, for kindly allowing the use of photographs and factual information from his outstanding book, The British Grenadiers.

Mrs. Barbara Keller for great help with Graphics.

Mr. Jean Michele Munn and the staff of Shuttleworth Veteran Aeroplane Society, Bigglesworth, England for their help, detailed information and use of a photograph of the SE5a Fighter. Also, for allowing me to sit in the cockpit, enabling me to make notes of the instrument layout and to get a ‘feel’ for this legendary aircraft.

Mr. Christopher Lane of Wisdon for assistance in researching cricket scores in the Eton-Harrow game of 1913.

Major J. C. F. Magnay, formerly Grenadier Guards, for help with certain details about his Father and the Battle for Gauche Wood.

Mr. Adam C. Patrick, A la Vieille Russie Inc., New York, for help and information on Russian jewelry and objects d’art.

Captain M. R. Westmacott, formerly Grenadier Guards, for help with his Father’s memoirs of the Battle for Gauche Wood and for kindly providing a photograph of his Father.

The Widener Library, Harvard University, for access to their rare collection of Russian Civil War maps from 1918 to 1922.

Major General P.G. Williams, CMG, OBE, formerly Coldstream Guards, and editor of The Guards Magazine, for kind permission to use certain Guard’s photographs.

Mr. and Mrs. Frederic Winthrop, Jr., for providing and verifying certain information contained in the Wall Street chapters.

Major P.A.J. Wright, OBE, formerly Grenadier Guards and archivist, for providing certain factual records of past Grenadier Regimental Adjutants and Russian medals.

Mr. Giles Vicat and Mr. Robin Darwell-Smith, Archivist at University College, for their help with factual details of Prince Felix Yussupov’s time at Oxford.

Captain Richard Crosby, LVO, RN. (maritimeprints.com—copyright ©) for allowing the purchase of the right to print the photograph of the painting titled: ‘Like Giants Bowed, Third Battle Squadron Atlantic Fleet, moving through mist in the English Channel en route to the North Sea 29th July 1914’.

For detailed factual information, I have relied heavily on and wish to record my thanks to the following:

The Grenadier Guards in the Great War of 1914-1918, by Lieutenant Colonel The Right Honourable Sir Frederick Ponsonby. This formidable history, based largely on first hand recollections and experience, provided the factual backdrop for my tracing the path and names of the 2nd Battalion Grenadier Guards.

The Fate of the Romanovs, by Gregg King and Penny Wilson. This superb book contains outstanding and deeply researched evidence of the factual events surrounding the murder of the Imperial Family.

The Romanovs—The Final Chapter, by Robert K Massie. This brilliant book unearths evidence and insights into the updated factual DNA evidence of the Imperial Family.

The Royal Flying Corps in World War I, by Ralph Barker. This graphic account dealing with the activities of number 56 Squadron formed the factual background to my chapters on the Royal Flying Corps.

To Kill Rasputin, by Andrew Cook. This outstanding book throws a new and indeed revolutionary light on the most likely true nature of the murder of Rasputin.

Preface

Dear Reader,

Firstly, may I thank you sincerely for purchasing a copy of this book.

The idea originated with my wish to write a simple fictional tale that wove together some of the real stories of heroism exhibited by the countless souls who had fought so bravely in the Great War and in the Russian Civil War. I had hoped to write it as a simple soldier’s tale, told by a former soldier, for soldiers. However, it dawned on me soon that the story would be far longer than I had planned originally.

When I undertook more detailed research, I discovered three exciting additional strategic facts. Firstly, that the murder of Rasputin was in fact a British plot, albeit under Russian colours. Secondly, much of the seed capital of the Bolsheviks was raised on Wall Street. Third, it became clear that, following their disgusting murder, there were some twenty minutes when all the Imperial bodies were off-loaded and left in the dark, amid long grass and completely unattended before being reloaded by drunken soldiers. As at least four victims survived the original two shooting attempts at execution. Two were shot subsequently. The remaining two were clubbed to death afterwards. If four, why not a fifth survivor of the shootings?

Rapidly, it became clear that my planned simple tale had been taken over potentially by a saga. Friends advised me that my book would be far too long for a commercial success. I toyed with the idea of writing it in two volumes. After considerable thought, I decided that this would not be practical.

Any successful publisher and editor naturally must aim always for commercial success. To achieve this, I felt most likely they would cut my text possibly by a half. In doing so, I feared that they would risk diluting much of the detail that I judged would make for the added enjoyment of my target audience in the armed services. Therefore, I decided to self-publish.

Self-publication implies forgoing the many formidable skills provided by a recognized publisher. An established publisher would offer professional services including the identification of text most likely to appeal to a wide audience, tightening the prose to appeal to fast readers, ensuring consistency of ‘points of view’ and the all important skill of marketing in a world now sometimes hostile to the written word. In addition, it is particularly difficult to proofread one’s own writing. As one of the world’s worst spellers this represented a major added risk. These serious problems were heightened further by the fact that this was my first book of fiction.

Returning to my original aim of writing a simple soldier’s tale both to entertain soldiers and at the same time, by including numerous names to act as a tribute to the fallen, I decided to accept the fearsome odds against commercial success and go for it. Therefore, I have titled this as a ‘Commemorative Soldiers Edition’.

I hope sincerely that, after tolerating some detail, possibly felt boring by some, you will find this book interesting and enjoy your journey through the tale.

John Browne

Staple House, Near Bath, England. Boxing Day 2012.

Sitting at a table in a window of the main guest room of his Parents’ home, Peregrine Coulter raised his head from reviewing the draft text of a book and looked out. He gazed down onto a beautiful, flat water meadow, still known by its Saxon description of ‘Hamm’. Astride the river he saw the old stone bridge, mentioned in the Great Doomsday Book of 1086. Beyond, lay the Inn at Freshford. On the hill behind rose the fine Georgian village, of Saxon origin. The limestone walls of the houses gave off a warm welcoming yellow glow in the weakening winter sunshine. Peregrine and his new wife, Susan, had enjoyed Christmas with his parents and family. Earlier that day, they had attended the Meet of the Duke of Beaufort’s Hounds at Worcester Lodge, Badminton. The whole family had followed the hunt on foot for a bracing walk to work off the dining excesses of Christmas the previous day. They felt their late luncheon well earned. The hot clear soup, laced with sherry, the cold goose, chilled Christmas pudding, mince pies, iced Jersey cream and Stilton cheese with sliced pears were decidedly filling. Later, Peregrine’s Father poured generous glasses of vintage port to heighten the general delight of roasting chestnuts in the drawing room fire. Everyone was relaxed, happy and filled with the most pleasant lethargy. It required the greatest determination for Peregrine to leave the remainder of the family, dogs and cats dosing around the fire while he attempted to work. Once upstairs, he was alone save that his pet Lhasa Apso, Ming Tsu, had followed him faithfully and rested on his bed.

Now, a senior officer at the Bank of England, Peregrine had joined the Bank some twelve years before. Many of his early days had seemed like eternities within themselves. They were long, often tedious and sometimes downright boring as he had wrestled with some of the more mundane duties of a junior in a central bank. As he looked out at the timeless, tranquil tapestry before him, he felt almost resentful at having decided to give up such exquisite family holiday time to complete the writing of a book. Then he reminded himself that his old friend and former mentor, John Salter, was aging rapidly. He had asked… almost pleaded with Peregrine to finish his book before he fell off the perch. As a senior advisor to the Governor of The Bank of England, Peregrine had been extraordinarily busy over recent years. The current perceptions of a catastrophic collapse of the European Union, the possible departure of the United Kingdom, the burgeoning threat of a global inflationary depression and the prospect of the imminent succession of Mark Carney, a renowned Canadian ‘monetary stimulator’, in the mold of Ben Bernanke, as the next Governor had made his life hectic. He had fallen far behind in the completion of a book which was based, in turn, on an official report he had submitted some nine years before. Therefore, he had vowed to complete his book as soon as possible while Salter might enjoy it still. Despite the beguiling temptation to join his family downstairs, he took up his pen. Looking down at the thick manuscript of the near completed first volume of the book he had started many months before, he began to write:

‘Dear Reader,

I had been employed at the Bank of England for only three years when I was called first to see Mr. John Salter. Normally, I received my assignments from my departmental supervisor. Mr. Salter was a very senior former officer of The Bank. For some reason, unknown to me, he had been kept on far beyond retirement age. Visible on occasions, he was involved rarely with underlings. Most of us thought his purpose there was akin to one of The Bank’s rare oil paintings meant to invoke respect and prestige at a time when such concepts were waning fast. At that time, it seemed the outer limit of his position. I had no idea how wrong I would be proved.

When first I was summoned to see Mr. Salter, I did not know how I had come to his attention. Apparently, as he told me later, he had heard of my education and my subsequent satisfactory work at the Bank. Having come down from Oxford and gained a Doctorate at Harvard, I sought a career in banking. It was not what I wanted to do really. I had read history and Russian literature at Magdalen and had continued this interest at Harvard. I had entertained romantically lofty career ideas while gazing on the dreamy spires of Oxford and the timeless waters of the Charles River from my Harvard rooms. It was my Father who insisted that I become realistic and enter a profession, which would produce an income on which I could at least survive and bring no shame to the family. Hence, being placed at the Bank of England was a feather in my cap. My Father was pleased.

Thus, I entered John Salter’s office having been told that I would be briefed with tracing an account and determining its rightful owner or, at least, to dispose of it on The Bank’s records. I had done similar work several times and thought there would be little difficulty. However, I was surprised when Salter began briefing me. He divulged to me what was clearly highly sensitive and important background information essential to uncovering the true nature of what he termed a ‘hidden’ Imperial account. Furthermore, the details he shared made me aware acutely that whatever conclusion was to be drawn as a result of my analysis and recommendations would have historical and political repercussions reaching far outside the Bank’s walls. For that reason, my mission and findings were to be kept strictly confidential, even from other senior Bank officials. I was to report exclusively to Mr. Salter. There was little question that my assignment was different from any I had been given before. However, at first I did not think much about the gravity of my task. Rather, I was intrigued and much looked forward to something outside my usual mundane professional existence.

The story begins over nine years ago, in June 2003. I would have put pen to paper far sooner to include you, dear reader, in its telling. However, I am not a formal writer. Indeed, this is my first book. Frankly, the story I uncovered in my original report seemingly was so fantastic that I feared you would not believe it. But John Salter persuaded me.

Peregrine Coulter’

PART ONE

The Great War

Chapter 1

Close The Account

Bank of England, Monday 16th June 2003.

A strong Gemini sun bathed the south and east facing outer walls of the Bank of England, known throughout the City of London as ‘The Old Lady of Threadneedle Street’ or as ‘The Old Lady’ or simply ‘The Bank’. Founded as the Government’s banker and debt manager on 27th July 1694, she became the model for the world’s central banks. Sir Herbert Baker had designed the outer wall so cleverly, with a combination of alcoves and pillars, that it required a second glance from most observers to realize that it was indeed a highly secure wall with no windows, aside for a few over the main entrance. Otherwise, only windows above and behind the wall were visible. They were of the numerous Palladian style buildings arranged often around impressive courtyards within the outer wall.

In a cream painted office, formed as a subdivision of the old Pay Office, sat John Salter. As he stirred his coffee, his attention was focused upon a large piece of heavy cream writing paper. Richly embossed, it bore the red emblem of ‘The Treasury’. Running his hands over his grey hair with an expression of despair, Salter sat back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head. Although his age was a well protected mystery, Salter was assumed generally to be an octogenarian. He was of medium build. Despite the hint of a middle aged ‘tummy’, he appeared fit and alert. He wore gold rimmed, half-moon spectacles and a dark blue suit over a pink, white collared shirt and a pink highlighted tie. Clearly, pink was his only overt condescension to modern fashion. Otherwise, with a fresh complexion, he looked a typical ‘City Gent’ of the old school. Behind his desk was a small table with a computer resting on it. The pristine look of the keys suggested infrequent use. As a past department head, he was allowed to choose several oil paintings and prints from The Bank’s formidable collection. He had selected some of London including one of Horse Guards Parade. On one wall hung a couple of watercolor paintings of the Bank of England Piquet. The Piquet provided added night security to the Bank. It had been found by regiments of the Foot Guards for centuries, but was abolished in 1973. Behind Salter hung a beautiful Russian Icon, flanked by two small, matched oil paintings. One was of Emperor Nicholas II, on horseback, in the distinctive papakhii Astrakhan cap and the long, scarlet, gold galloon trimmed, kaftan or Circassian coat of a Colonel of the Imperial Escort, of Konvoi Cossacks. The other was of the Emperor’s favorite and almost identical looking cousin, King George V, dressed in the bearskin cap and scarlet uniform tunic of a mounted Colonel of the Grenadier Guards.

As Salter lent forward to look at the Treasury letter again, he noted with disgust how the Royal Coat of Arms and the letters ‘H. M.’ had been dropped from in front of the word ‘Treasury’. ‘This eradication of ‘Her Majesty’ was never openly approved by Parliament. It’s just one more example of the ever increasingly covert and unconstitutional reduction of the perceived importance of the Monarch,’ he thought. Frowning, he pressed the key of a wood encased intercom box and spoke to his secretary. Dianna, where is Mr. Coulter?

Oh! Mr. Peregrine has just left his office, Sir. I’ll send him in as soon as he arrives here.

Running late for his first appointment of the week, John Salter mumbled to himself. Rising from his chair, he stood in the window beside his desk and looked out somewhat sadly over the closely manicured grass of Garden Court and at the magnificent, sun bathed façade encasing the tall windows of the Bank’s Court Room. Still he held the letter. He looked at it again and frowned as he turned back and tossed it contemptuously onto his desk. He sat down, taking a large fountain pen from his inside pocket. He wrote ‘Peregrine-25 October’, on a notepad. As he did so, there was a knock on his door. Come! he called out.

I’m so sorry to be late, Sir, but I…

You have wasted some of my most precious possession—time!’ Then, with a smile he added, You must have had far too good a weekend, Peregrine." Salter had observed Peregrine unobtrusively for many months. He felt he would grow to like the tall, thin, heavy spectacled, dark haired young man with a fresh complexion and keen eyes. Although still in his late twenties, Salter saw him as a highly intelligent, hard working young man, who respected tradition and clearly was a person of high integrity.

Well actually, yes, Sir. It was an outstanding almost ‘royal’ weekend.

Good. Well, today, we’ve had a very ‘un royal’ letter from the Treasury and we have to deal with it. Sliding the letter in front of Peregrine, he continued. As you will see, our political masters want us to close any dormant accounts that we may have belonging to the late Emperor Nicholas II or to his wife, the Empress Alexandra of Russia!

Close them, Sir? I didn’t know we had any to begin with.

Yes, close them, Salter said with more than a trace of disappointment while ignoring Peregrine’s observation. Then he added in a measured almost defiant tone, That is, unless we can satisfy them that, after some eighty-five years of inaction, since the murder of Emperor Nicholas, we can justify keeping any of them open.

How can we do that, Sir?

That, Peregrine, is precisely the aim of your new assignment!

Mine, Sir?

Yes… yours, Peregrine. I can think of no one better suited for it. I have observed your progress and work at the Bank for some time. In addition, you read history up at Oxford, took a PhD in history at Harvard, wrote your thesis on the Russian Revolution, or coup d’etat as you insist upon calling it and you speak some smattering of Russian.

But, that was all a very long…

No buts about it, Peregrine. The fate of the Imperial Account is now pretty much in your capable hands. And what’s more you have been sitting on some of the files since I handed some ‘introductory’ ones over to you.

But, Sir, I have had no time even to read many of them, let alone study them.

Well, now’s your chance. The Treasury is pressing for action. Possibly, they hope to show goodwill or even a pleasant surprise for President Putin as a welcoming prelude to his State Visit here, next week. However, I believe it will take a good deal longer than the Treasury appears to anticipate. I think I can stall them until the end of the Party Conference season and the beginning of the new Parliamentary Year, following the State Opening of Parliament in early November. I am giving you until the third week in October to garner your facts—Let’s say until Saint Crispin’s Day, the 25th. Of course, it will be a Saturday, but I am inviting you and your friend Susan down to my house at Windsor for the weekend. It will be partly a working weekend for you and me. But we will be relaxed and insulated from outside interruptions. We will prepare the outline of our report for the Treasury.

That’s most kind of you, Sir, but what will our report be about?

Well, Peregrine… . The Bank’s report will be based very much upon your recommendations.

My recommendations, Sir? But from what perspective?

How would I know Peregrine? Before you do your detective work, no one knows. But I trust you will remember that I was one of those who recommended to Her Majesty, The Queen, that there was a considerable element of lingering doubt as far as precise, personal identity went in the DNA tests on the bones that are alleged to be those of the Russian Imperial Family. I also mentioned for Her Majesty’s consideration, that still many of the remaining Romanovs resent deeply, her Grandfather’s apparent tardiness in attempting to rescue his cousin, the late Emperor Nicholas.

I remember you referring to that before, Sir.

"Good. I look to you to come up with a report that our political masters are more likely to view as unbiased. Following your much publicized letter to The Times alleging that, based upon the DNA tests in London, Anna Anderson was an imposter in claiming to be the Grand Duchess Anastasia, your report will reflect an independent angle."

But, Sir, you know far more than I do about the Romanovs.

That, Peregrine, is the very reason that any report I make will be viewed as the ramblings of an older ‘analogue’ man too closely involved and therefore heavily biased. You, on the other hand, are of the new technological, or should I say ‘digital’ generation. You will bring to bear the credibility of modern science. So no more argument, Peregrine.

As you say, Sir. But I do have a question.

Yes?

I know I have not read the files, but I was under the impression that there was no account belonging to the late Emperor at the Bank. So why all the fuss, if I am correct, over a non-existent account?

Good question, Peregrine, John Salter replied, leaning forward, A very good question, indeed, if I may say so, he added with a knowing smile breaking upon his face.

Leaning back in his chair, Salter clasped his hands and touched his chin with his index fingers. Still smiling he went on, Perhaps, Peregrine, I should fill you in with some background before you start.

It would help, Sir.

Yes it may help, but I do not want it to help to the point of influencing your initial report. Subjecting you to any of my own thinking might be considered sentimental or downright biased.

I see, Sir.

I do not want to be unhelpful in any way and trust you will understand if I try to stay out of your analysis. I do not necessarily like the Treasury. Indeed, I am very glad that in May 1997, Mr. Tony Blair made us independent of the Treasury at least as far as setting interest rates to meet government inflation targets was concerned.

Long overdue, if I may say so. I understand that at least two of Mrs. Thatcher’s Chancellors felt we should have been freed from the Treasury, but they admitted to it only after they had left office.

Yes, indeed, Peregrine, once they would incur no risk of being sacked by Margaret Thatcher. You know, I’ll never understand why the ‘Blessed Margaret’ did not do it while she had the chance. However, that’s all history now. Regardless of our so-called ‘independence’, we, at The Bank, have a clear duty to give honest advice, based upon our best information and analysis. As I said, I think some background information is in order.

Do you mind if I take some notes, Sir?

No, of course not, so long as they remain entirely confidential. Let me take you back a hundred years or so, to the turn of the twentieth century. Emperor Nicholas II was inherently vastly rich. Some historians feel he was the richest man in the world at that time. In 1916, his personal wealth was estimated to be well over U.S. $ 860 million, or about $300 billion in today’s money, making him the richest monarch in history. But also he had enormous obligatory expenses. He had several vast palaces to keep up. Some 15,000 people looked to him for a living. These included servants, ballet troupes, choirs, orchestras and minor family members, who did not receive the enormous official allowances.

Like our Civil List today, for Royal Family’s compensation?

Precisely, Peregrine. By the end of each year, the Emperor was often relatively low on funds. The Emperor also was extremely patriotic and there was a certain anti-British feeling among certain members of his family.

Why was that, Sir?

Some of the Romanovs felt that we tried to interfere too much in their affairs.

Do you think we did?

Well, we had wide interests to protect in those days. Also, we were more, should I say, openly positive and active in their pursuit. As I was about to say, Peregrine, the Emperor entertained good feelings towards England. Indeed, before he inherited his throne, he expressed quite often his private hopes of retiring here to farm. Regarding overseas accounts, apparently he felt that it would not be politic for him to have vast funds at the Bank of England. However, both he and his wife, the Empress Alexandra, did open relatively small accounts at the Bank. In addition, along with certain other Romanov family members, they opened private accounts in New York and at Barings Bank here in London.

Barings Merchant Bank?

Yes. Salter went on to mention how Barings had had the British Government as a merchant banking client and that it had led to their capture of a number of other governments as clients. He described how, after Baring’s collapse in 1995, they were taken over by ING Bank. He explained that much of the money deposited there by the Romanovs was deemed to be the original property of the Imperial Government or even of the Provisional Government. I believe that those funds were most probably paid out to settle, or partially settle creditors’ claims of the Russian government, soon after the Revolution.

So there were no private accounts?

I think that the main private Imperial accounts that were opened abroad were in Berlin in the name of the Imperial children. As I understand it, they were paid out in the early 1930’s to the Grand Duchess Xenia, the late Emperor’s eldest Sister, who did not die until 1960. Apparently, she shared some of the funds with her close relations, including her younger Sister, Olga, who lived with their Mother, the Dowager Empress Maria, in exile in Denmark, until her death, also in 1960.

But weren’t there some accounts at Barings that were used as restitution to British owners of property seized by the Bolsheviks?

I do not know the details of any of the accounts held at Barings. Knowing what I did, I felt it wise always for me to keep a low profile.

And that precluded you from making overt enquiries?

Precisely. But one aspect of perestroika and glasnost is common knowledge. As Prime Minister, the Blessed Margaret, persuaded Secretary Gorbachev to pay off British and Commonwealth claimants for at least some of their property in Russia that was seized by the Bolsheviks. We had advised the Prime Minister that such restitution would help pave the way for Russia’s re-entry to the capital markets of the Free World. She used her persuasive powers on Gorbachev and it was agreed.

I understand she could be very persuasive?

Indeed, she was an expert at using logic, a firm grip of facts and force of character to win her victories. Many of the men who lost to Margaret will testify to that. Even Gorbachev was a great admirer of hers.

Oh, yes. I hear she was most formidable and put the fear of God into many of her ministers.

Well, she had little time for weakness. But she did respect strength and knowledge of facts. Indeed, once convinced, she became a firm supporter.

Placing a considerable responsibility on her advisors?

Indeed. Once she was on side, she would move heaven and earth in support. Things happened, fast. Often to the embarrassment and even annoyance of Ministers who sometimes were too close to their civil servants.

Quite a woman, Sir.

Indeed. Her fundamental motivation can be summed up in a single word… freedom. I think history will judge her as one of our greatest Prime Ministers. On a par with the Great Sir Winston.

I agree, Sir. But, regarding the Russians, do we know how much money they returned?

If I remember correctly, just over sixty million pounds was paid to some sixty thousand claimants in 1986. But my understanding is that it was Imperial Government money, not part of any private funds of the Imperial Family. Regardless, the Treasury now is focused upon the notion that any Imperial money still in this country should be deemed to have belonged rightly to former Russian governments.

So it’s really all about politics is it, Sir?

Usually is, Peregrine, yes. The Treasury is always after every penny it can squeeze, but I suspect there is a revived international angle here.

What do you mean, exactly?

Well, we appear to have been cozying up to the Russians for President Putin’s coming State Visit. In addition, the Russians may be pressing us for a return of any State monies they feel we may have still on deposit. You realize, of course, that the ‘new’ Russia is a vast potential market for British exports.

So there were Romanov accounts here? Were there, Sir?

Yes, there were, at least for the Emperor and the Empress.

But, I thought that one of our former Governors…

You mean, Sir Edward Peacock?

Yes, didn’t he…

Well, firstly, he was a Director of the Bank, not a Governor, both before and during the Second World War. It is true that he did discuss the question of some Romanov accounts with a Canadian journalist. I think it was in 1960. Lord Cobbold was our Governor at the time. Anyway, you can check it in the files. As you will see, Sir Edward discussed mainly the role he was instructed to accept by King George V, who was an informal financial adviser to his cousin, the Grand Duchess Olga. As I have said, she was the youngest Sister of the Emperor and was living in exile in Denmark. King George did not want Olga to lose out in her rightful claim. In addition, I believe Sir Edward said that, at that time, there were no accounts at the Bank belonging to the Emperor.

Was he lying, Sir?

Good God! No, Peregrine! But, as a prudent banker, he did choose his words very carefully. He was talking exclusively about the Emperor and official accounts. He was also referring to the situation in 1960, not in the early 1900’s.

Well, if the Emperor and Empress did have accounts in the early 1900’s, where did their money go? Was it handed over to the Communists after the revolution?

No. Luckily, none of my predecessors had to face that delicate problem.

Why not, Sir? How did they get out of it?

Well, the problem was solved for them.

How so? By the King?

Oh, no, it was solved largely by the Emperor and Empress themselves. You could say it was fate. As I said, they both genuinely loved Russia and were extremely patriotic.

Even the Empress? I thought she was viewed as pro German, known as ‘The German Woman’ and extremely unpopular in Russia?

She was. Yes, she was. But in fact, she was deeply and totally devoted to Russia. She was unfortunate to have what we now call, very bad PR.

Not helped by her infatuation with Rasputin, I imagine?

Quite so, Peregrine, quite so.

Was her pro-German image the main reason behind King George, delaying the rescue of his cousins?

Well, I believe that, at the time, the King had no idea that the threat of murder existed. Then he faced three additional major factors. Firstly, his government had to be very careful to avoid even the remote risk of the Bolsheviks siding with the Germans under the lure of sharing in the spoils of an Allied defeat. He was acutely aware that the Reds could have upset the delicate balance of the war by siding with the Germans. Doubtless, he sensed also the strong anti-German and increasingly socialist feelings among his people. A combination of the latter two factors risked becoming toxic for our Monarchy and the King had an overriding obligation to all of us not to risk the English Throne.

Well, the tide of socialism certainly swept almost all other European monarchs from their thrones after the Great War. It must have been an agonizing decision for the King to delay in rescuing his cousins. But, in retrospect, he appeared to have been very prescient.

Yes, indeed he was. He had an uncanny knack of identifying the Monarchy with the people. Indeed, it could be said that he saved our Monarchy from a fate similar to those of most European Sovereigns. But as you say, Peregrine, it was all very sad… very sad indeed, John Salter added dolefully as he turned his head round briefly towards his picture of the Emperor. However, back to the story. After their initial military success in Poland against the overconfident Germans, in the summer of 1914, the Russians faced a massive German counter-attack at Tannenberg. Soon the wounded began to flow home in huge and ever increasing numbers. Initially, the Russians mobilized almost two million men, a vast number in those days. But they had logistic resources for only a fraction of that number. By 1917, they had mobilized thirteen million men.

Thirteen million? My God!

Yes, it was a huge number and the logistical situation became even worse, particularly as regards food, ammunition and medical supplies. In a year or so over a million were dead.

It must have been terrible.

It was. The Empress and her two eldest daughters, Olga and Tatiana, even qualified and worked as nurses. Indeed, the Empress herself conducted minor operations. The younger daughters, Maria and Anastasia, remained unqualified and worked with non-surgical cases. The situation became so bad that both the Emperor and the Empress gave generously for the purchase of medical supplies and the construction of hospitals and the purchase of hospital trains. The expenses were vast. Indeed, they were so large that they both liquidated their accounts here at the Bank. On the 26th of August 1915, I remember the date well as a major event in the files. They transferred their last funds from the Bank to the British Embassy account in Saint Petersburg. John Salter’s eyes fell for a moment.

Peregrine waited before suggesting, So there are, in fact, no accounts belonging either to the Emperor or the Empress, as such?

Not as such, Peregrine that is true. Not as such. His voice faded as he looked sadly out of the window. Peregrine remained silent. After staring out of his window for several long seconds, Salter turned to face Peregrine, and continued, No, not as such. And that’s the crucial point.

What do you mean, Sir?

Well, the Empress did open an account in addition to her own.

For whom?

She opened an account for her children, with her own family money from England and Hesse, not with money from Russia.

For all of them?

Well, she opened a special account that was quite sophisticated for its time. Today, we would call it a Trust account with a remainder interest. The main account had five sub accounts.

One for each of her children?

Precisely. However, if one died, before claiming their funds, the monies flowed to the remaining siblings in equal amounts on what we call today the ‘last-to-die’ principle.

May I ask, Sir, who was to administer this account?

That, Peregrine, is a key question. The Empress appointed three trustees. One was to be the Bank. The other was to be the Imperial Russian Ambassador to the Court of Saint James.

Who no longer exists?

Precisely, Peregrine.

And the third—Sir?

The third was her private financial advisor.

A Russian?

No, an Englishman, as it happens. He was a particularly fine English gentleman, whom I had the pleasure, nay, the privilege to know. His name was Henry Fanshawe. Salter cast his eyes down for a second, as Peregrine reacted enthusiastically.

I think I recognize that name.

Yes, you may. I released one file on him when ING bank took over Barings. Well, Henry Fanshawe was one of the most important private bankers of that time. He was the personal financial advisor to many of the ‘uber’ rich of our United Kingdom, a considerable number of Americans, Continentals and to many Romanovs, including the Empress.

My goodness, what a list. He must have been quite a man, Sir.

He was, Peregrine, he was. He built a most powerful list of clients on the basis of three fundamental, key strengths.

May I ask what they were, Sir?

"You may, Peregrine and I trust you will heed them well. Henry Fanshawe was the epitome of an English gentleman of that era, tall, slim and fine looking with tightly groomed dark hair. He was outstandingly perceptive, quick of wit and had a charming, almost disarming, sense of humor. He therefore had many friends. But his business was built upon his shrewd financial judgment, absolute integrity, and complete, and I mean complete, discretion at all times. Indeed, he exuded integrity. People trusted him implicitly. He was also a Grenadier in his earlier years and fought in the Boar War, before joining his father’s bank."

May I ask which bank, Sir?

It was called Fanshawe Brothers. Henry Fanshawe had persuaded his father to become independent from their original partnership with the Cunliffe Brothers. It was considered by many to be a bad move, as later Sir Walter Cunliffe became Governor of the Bank of England from 1913 to 1918. He was perhaps the last of the sound, gold-based money Governors. However, he crossed swords with John Maynard Keynes. Sadly, Cunliffe Brothers failed in 1939. The eclipse of such an eminently sound moneyman cleared the way for Keynes to put forward his theories over Friedrich Hayek. Keynes was unopposed by anyone of stature who understood the seemingly bogus nature of the complex mathematics behind his ‘General Theory’. He hoodwinked the Americans who forced the international adoption of his theories at Bretton Woods in July 1944. In my humble opinion, they formed the foundation of the terrible, central bank pseudo-financed, sovereign debt debacle and potential fiat currency crisis, that loom before us today.

So Henry Fanshawe’s assessment proved to be an error?

On the contrary! Indeed, it turned out to be a very shrewd decision. Fanshawe Brothers later merged with Morgan Grenfell. They, in turn, were taken over in the 1990’s by the giant Deutsche Bank. Fortuitously, Fanshawe, like Cunliffe, was a Harovian. Therefore, there was very little ill will. In fact, as Governor, Lord Cunliffe, as he was after 1914, proved to be very helpful to Henry Fanshawe. He set things up for Fanshawe with the Empress, the Dowager Empress and several other senior Romanovs. Eventually, Cunliffe was awarded the Russian Order of Saint Anna, first class.

On the recommendation of Henry Fanshawe?

Possibly, but who can tell? Anyway, I digress. Suffice it to say that Henry Fanshawe was a stickler for discipline and the acceptance of responsibility. He paid out of his own pocket for any administrative errors made by his bank. People, from far and wide, trusted him with their private wealth.

When did he retire?

Well, sadly he didn’t. He was killed.

Killed, Sir? By whom?

By a German aircraft in the second World War.

"The second World War, Sir?"

Yes. In fact I was standing beside him when it happened. I was a young man like you, in those far off days. He was quite old and had retired as Senior Partner. But many of his most powerful clients literally demanded his personal supervision of their accounts. In effect, he was unable to retire fully. We had visited a most senior landed aristocrat, who lived north of Bath. Queen Mary, the Queen Mother, was staying with him at the time. Also, he had befriended a former Romanov Grand Duchess, who had escaped the revolution, but she was widowed. Two of the three were Fanshawe’s clients. The Russian was also a customer of ours at The Bank. Anyway, we left the great countryseat subsequently, to liaise with a Mr. Charles Griffiths, the Bristol solicitor of one of the parties. Mr. Fanshawe’s family solicitor and cousin, Mr. Jeremy Thring, from Bath was also in attendance. After that meeting, we traveled to Bristol Temple Meads Railway Station, which had been bombed previously, leaving many of its platforms uncovered. We waited for the express train to London, which stopped at Bath. It was a fine sunlit afternoon in 1942. Suddenly, a German aircraft swooped down and strafed the passengers waiting on the crowded open platform. Standing at my side, Fanshawe was killed instantly. Thring and I were completely unscathed. Salter’s voice grew soft with scarcely hidden emotion. That was some 61 years ago! But, I remember it as if it was yesterday.

What a dreadful shock.

It was. It was indeed, Peregrine. Salter turned to look at the pictures hanging on the wall behind him and continued sorrowfully. Henry Fanshawe was the finest of men. Indeed, he left me this set of two matching paintings of our late beloved King George V and of his cousin, Emperor Nicholas II. I treasure them deeply.

So, you are the only remaining Trustee, Sir?

Precisely! Our problem is that we, or rather I, am now the sole surviving trustee of a private trust account containing potentially vast sums, if its secret Swiss assets become traceable. No one outside a certain Swiss bank, other than our Sovereign, the Governor and of course yours truly, knows that it exists. In fact, I am only the second officer of the Bank to have been given this, what I describe as, ‘sacred caretaker’ duty.

It’s absolutely amazing. But you said ‘our’ problem, Sir?

Yes, my dear Peregrine, I did. I said ‘our’ because I am old, perhaps too old to carry on my duties. Before I retire, I am going to ask you to accept this great responsibility.

But, I am totally ill-equipped, Sir.

Nonsense, my boy! I have watched your career at the Old Lady, with a keen interest for a number of years. And I have selected you as the most fitted from amongst several others, some far senior to you. Trust me. I do know exactly what qualities are required.

Well, I am very flattered, of course, Sir.

You should be flattered, believe me. Now, before I can tell you any more, I have to ask you to sign these few documents, John Salter added gravely, as he opened the right hand drawer of his desk and produced a buff colored folder which he opened and placed on the far side of his large desk, in front of Peregrine. They are short, simple and self explanatory, but do take your time to read them carefully. He paused and sat back in his chair while Peregrine read the documents. After a few moments of silence, he added softly. "I do not wish to twist your arm. But it is only fair to tell you that, whilst this special assignment involves no monetary reward whatsoever, it is nevertheless true to say that your predecessor trustees have done extremely well in the promotion stakes here at the Old Lady. We have direct and confidential access to both the Governor and to The Sovereign.

The Queen, Sir?

Yes, The Sovereign. In fact, this task has been given only to people who are perceived to be, as they now say, on the ‘fast track’ and ‘reliable’. You understand that this is viewed as a very special role involving great responsibility and discretion, don’t you, Peregrine?

Yes, I do, Sir, of course, Peregrine replied with a smile as he signed the last page and returned the folder.

Thank you, Peregrine. I am sure you will do a sincere and highly professional job as ‘The’ trustee.

Thank you Sir, but might I ask what name this trust account is under at the Bank?

Good question. As you might expect, it is on the ‘Special List’ and is not on the general computer database. The account is kept in paper form only and is in no readily available file. However, the real name is the ‘Eternity’ account.

Eternity? Sounds a bit trite, doesn’t it, Sir?

Of course, it does. Added camouflage, perhaps. Actually, it was proposed by Henry Fanshawe, It reflected his idea which, in those far off days, was in some ways, financially, very high tech, as you might say.

Yes, that’s true, I suppose, Sir, but you said it was only in paper form?

Yes, Peregrine, I did.

But, if there are no general files, where are the underlying assets held, Sir?

Pausing for a moment, Salter added gravely and in a quieter tone as if to emphasize the confidentiality of what he was to say. As you well know, Peregrine, the Old Lady was nationalized by the then Socialist government in 1946. The Chartered Joint Stock Company that had been started in 1694 was taken into Public Ownership.

That must have changed the ‘old guard’?

Not really, Peregrine, there were very few, if any, changes in the way in which the Bank operated. It all went very smoothly. After all, it was always acting as the ‘national’ bank anyway.

Seamless, as they would say today.

Yes, quite seamless, at least as far as operations went. Pausing and touching his right hand to his mouth, Salter added. That is, save for one minor change that was very important for me.

Do you mind my asking what that was, Sir?

Indeed, no. For you, as the trustee designate, now have a perfect right to know. Upon nationalization, the Old Lady was told by the Treasury that all private accounts were either to be closed or transferred out of the Bank.

Including the ‘Eternity’ account?

Including, I am sorry to say, the ‘Eternity’ account.

My God, to whom did it go?

It, or rather the underlying assets, was transferred to two most prestigious financial houses.

Alexander Fanshawe and Company, Sir?

No, actually not. Henry Fanshawe was very concerned that the new wave of socialism might result in some restriction of the freedoms enjoyed even by foreign owned accounts. Therefore, before he was killed in 1942, he had given instructions for all but a token amount of the underlying assets to be transferred, not to his own bank as you might think but to a secret account in a Swiss private Bank. He had a certain distrust of large banks that were run by managers rather than partners.

My God, that must have lost him a small fortune in management fees?

It did. But it was a measure of the quality of Henry Fanshawe, which gave him access to such vast fortunes around the world.

Quite a man.

Yes, he was a most extraordinary man.

May I ask which Swiss bank, Sir?

You may ask, but I cannot tell you at this stage. The problem is that no one knows the account number. Even before he died, Henry Fanshawe was suspicious of governments and their progressive encroachment into the private affairs of individuals. He feared that a new postwar government would be desperate for funds. He felt they could be so desperate that they might use diplomatic pressures to open even foreign accounts.

And do somewhat like we are now being asked to do, today?

Precisely!

Mr. Fanshawe was clearly not only extremely discrete, but politically most prescient.

He was. He was indeed. But perhaps a little too discreet.

Too discreet? How do you mean?

Well, Henry Fanshawe was so concerned about the illicit, but politically invasive, powers of the new Bolsheviks, that he gave the Swiss account number only to the late Empress.

So access died with her and with him?

Yes, unless possibly, in those last fateful days, the Empress passed it on to her children.

Who all died?

According to popular history, yes.

But is there any other history?

That, Peregrine, is for you to determine.

Me, Sir?

Yes, you Peregrine. You will have files made available to you that have never been seen outside the Bank.

That is a grave responsibility, Sir.

It is indeed, Peregrine. However, I would think of it more as a sacred duty.

After a pause to regain his composure, Peregrine went on, Getting back to our trusteeship, Sir. So, people are correct when they say that there are no Russian accounts at the Bank of England?

Well, in a typically political way, yes and no.

How do you mean, Sir?

Well, all the underlying assets of the Eternity Account originated from England and Hesse, not from Russia. The vast bulk of them were transferred. Only a token amount, the underlying trust, and the trusteeship remain secretly at the Old Lady, just as the late Empress would have wished.

So every Governor is telling the truth when he denies that any Russian account remains at the Bank?

In a manner of speaking, yes, and they may continue to do so for some years to come. But what worries me and will soon worry you, is the possibility of a foreign takeover of our British financial center in the City, which is now under threat.

From the looming federal state of the European Union?

Exactly, and a super state is what it appears fast becoming. As if catching himself he then added, I have probably said enough for the moment. I do not wish to say more, lest it tend to influence your research, unduly.

I understand, Sir.

Now, I would like to give you some specific subjects for consideration in your report. These are not directional pointers, but are vital questions that we have to answer. As I said, I will help when asked, but I do not wish to influence your analysis, other than to pose questions. Is that clear?

Quite clear, Sir.

"Firstly, in view of the fact that we are now partially independent of the Treasury, we have to decide exactly where our priorities and, indeed, legal obligations lie on this somewhat unusual issue. In particular, we must balance the moral loyalty we owe to our former ‘private’ client versus our legal obligations to the Treasury. We must be clear as to precisely what and how much information we are legally required to declare. In this, we have to satisfy ourselves, to the best of our ability, that the monies in the account are truly derived from the private English and Hessian funds of the Empress and not from Russian Imperial, private or government funds. Secondly, we must satisfy ourselves that the account does not meet the Treasury definition of a personal account of the Emperor or of the Empress. Finally, we have to make these judgments in the light of the overall context of what I call reasonableness."

"What exactly do you mean by reasonableness, Sir?"

Well, we have now seen almost ninety years of inactivity. Furthermore, the advances of modern science and the passage of the years now draw us to a crucial question. Is it any longer truly reasonable to assume even that it might be humanly possible that there will be any future claimant or claimants whatsoever?

Can indirect, even illegitimate, decedents be considered claimants, Sir?

No. The only legitimate claimants must be from the Imperial children, named in the trust deed. But you do raise an interesting tangential point. I know well a family living on Long Island, New York, which is descended directly from Emperor Alexander III. But they are from an illegitimate relationship. Besides, Emperor Alexander left them well endowed.

So they are neither in need nor are they entitled to claim?

Precisely, Peregrine. But I digress. So, there is no point in keeping the ‘Eternity’ Account open if there is no reasonable chance that it will ever be claimed. It may be time to abandon any emotional attachment and to fall in behind our political masters and close the account.

Quite a task.

Yes, Peregrine, it is. That is why I have selected you. In my opinion you have the both the knowledge, the historical perspective and the analytical ability to make a formidable analysis. More importantly, I feel you also have the vital integrity that our predecessor trustees and I would expect. Also, I believe the late Empress is entitled to expect such integrity from the Old Lady in making an informed, balanced and fair judgment.

My goodness, it certainly is a responsibility when you put it like that. May I ask what funds there actually are, in the account?

A very fair question, now that you are a trustee-in-waiting! Well, as I said before, both the Emperor and the Empress were relatively frugal. Of course, they lived in a most lavish and ostentatious Imperial Court. In fact, as you probably know from your studies, the Imperial Court of Russia was far more lavish and grand than was any of England, Spain or even of France. However, like our own Queen, they were relatively simple in the way in which they led their private lives. Furthermore, at the time the Empress opened the account, in early 1917, they actually had a vastly reduced fortune. There are in fact no actual funds as such, just assets. Very wisely and most probably under Fanshawe’s guidance, the Empress deposited, non-income earning assets of precious gemstones and precious metals. This was clever in that it resulted in no income tax liabilities or the registration of any securities. Of course, capital gains tax was unheard of here in those, what I might call, more civilized days, Salter added with a wry smile.

And he paid probably only some twenty dollars an ounce for the gold?

"Well, almost. The average price of gold in 1917 was about $18.99, if I remember correctly. So, I would say that, at today’s gold price, the