In Tsarskoe Selo there was a tunnel or passage through one of the park entrances. This entrance, with a stone structure over the gate, was carefully watched, and was used by the workers--delivery men, repair men, cooks, maids, gardeners and others. No one could enter this passage without showing his or her pass and the picture on the pass had to correspond with the one in the book which was at the disposal of the guard. When these workers reached the inner end of the tunnel, they were in the English basement of the palace where there were a number of rooms set aside for their use. These included a lounge, dining rooms, etc. In another section of the basement were rooms for the officers, including a dining room which was below Mother’s bedroom. Five or six hundred workers used this tunnel daily. It was one of the busiest and most widely used entrances. Practically all these people using this gate had been known to the guards, inasmuch as they had used this entrance for many years. We heard that the soldiers were breaking into stores, getting drunk, and even becoming intoxicated on wood alcohol. As a result, some were poisoned and died. These deaths were blamed on the palace guard. Mother was on duty with us children all night for several nights. Although she made frequent changes, she appeared constantly in her nurse’s uniforms. She rested on the sofa in order to be near us. The trials my Mother endured during these turbulent days are beyond description. One of the first things Mother did as a prisoner was to go through her personal letters. She burned some of the intimate ones she had received from Father during their courtship. Other letters which she destroyed were those from her Granny, Queen Victoria. When Mother was a young bride, expecting her first child, her Granny gave her useful advice. All letters written by the Imperial family were almost always numbered and dated so that it was easy to know whether any were missing. When the palace was searched by the commissars appointed by the Provisional Government, they noticed the paper ashes in the fireplace. They accused Mother of having burned important evidence. She could not change their suspicion that she had burned more than personal letters of sentiment. When she was through burning them, she said; “All is dead--but not my memories. No one can take them from me.” Then she buried her face in her hands, resting her arms on the mantel of the fireplace where she had burned her Granny’s own handwritten, cherished letters. She wept bitterly over the flame that carried Queen Victoria’s precious words into smoke.