On our way to Kostroma we sailed on the Volga. People lined the shores, some even wading into the water up to their waists. When our boat developed some trouble and while the repairs were being made, the people thronged the shores and sang “God Save the Tsar.” The Imperial party was delayed in reaching Kostroma. It was in this terraced city overlooking the Volga River that the Romanov dynasty had its official beginning, and now a special ceremony was to be held to celebrate the three hundredth anniversary of the Romanov reign. At last we reached the city and proceeded to the monument of Susanin. This was a column on which rested a bronze bust of the first Romanov Tsar, Michael Feodorovich. This column was supported by the peasant, Susanin. The latter was the Russian patriot who deliberately misled the Polish army which had invaded Russia and asked Susanin to lead the way to the whereabouts of the newly elected Tsar, who was in hiding. As a result of Susanin’s false directions, the Polish army was destroyed and was driven out. The plot of the famous opera, “A Life for the Tsar” by Glinka, was drawn from this heroic incident. This opera was one of my Father’s favorites. From the time of Feodor Romanov, a number of the brides of the Grand Dukes upon marriage adopted Saint Feodor and took the name of Feodorovna as a patronymic. From the monument, the procession continued to the Ipatiev Monastery, where the first Romanov was sheltered in 1613. In the monastery courtyard was the beautiful Cathedral of the Holy Trinity and within it stood the iconostasis and the throne of Tsar Michael Feodorovich. This monastery had been built by a Tartar prince who was the founder of the Godunov family and who was the first to be baptized there. While in the Cathedral we visited the dark rooms in which Michael once had lived. We sat on the chairs with the beautifully embroidered double eagles on their backs, and drank tea from the original containers at the same table once used by Tsar Alexei. In one of the rooms was a portrait of Michael and Alexei Romanov. Both looked a little like my Father. The legend tells us that Alexei was born on St. Job’s day, and so was my Father. And their experiences were sad, but those of Alexei were not as tragic as those of my Father. Also, we went to the cemetery and laid an exquisite wreath made of silver in the form of the cap of Monomakh and decorated with jewels on the grave of Michael.