In the last week of August, at the end of the short Russian summer, Chakrabongse and Poum returned to St Petersburg where, instead of boarding with the Corps des Pages in a building erected by Paul I for the Knights of Malta (because of this, the Pages bore the insignia of the Maltese Cross), they had been allotted more ‘simple’ accommodation in the Winter Palace: ‘a roomy and very comfortable apartment on the Commandant’s Entrance, with windows looking over the immense square – as large as the Place de la Concorde.’ A staff of court servants and their own chef were also provided, and Captain Krulof of the Emperor’s Lancers, was appointed their ‘Gouverneur’, responsible for their welfare.
Pages as a rule were recruited from sons of the nobility, high-ranking army officers, prominent statesmen and foreign royalty. A rigorous system of intensive education was designed to fit them eventually for entrance into the regiments of the Imperial Guard, for which a final examination result of at least nine points out of twelve was essential. Failing this, demotion to a regiment of the regular army for three years followed, before graduation to the Guards. At the same time, however, it was generally understood, though nowhere explicitly stated, that no student - high marks or not- could aspire to the Guards without sufficient means to maintain an extravagant lifestyle in this, the most elegant branch of the Service.
At the school there were seven ordinary classes equivalent to a normal lycée curriculum, except for the inclusion of drill in addition to two classes devoted to Military Science. As Chakrabongse was not only a protégé of the Tsar, but himself a royal personage, a special staff of teachers had been recruited to give him and Poum the best tuition available. This was a vital necessity as, although placed in a class of their own age - fifteen - he and Poum had to catch up with the five years of tuition they had missed, in addition to studying in a formidable foreign language which put them under intense pressure from the first.
They rose at seven; mathematics at eight; lunch at eleven with Captain Krulof and conversation with him and their Russian language teacher. From twelve to two - more lessons. From two till four, drilling and gymnastics at the Corps des Pages. At four, back to the Winter Palace to study until five, then dinner with more Russian conversation. More work from six till nine, unless Captain Krulof had arranged an outing to the theatre, opera or occasionally the circus. Music, being a social accomplishment, was not really taken seriously. Nevertheless, piano, violin and balalaika were taught, Chakrabongse showing a strong preference for the balalaika. Their music professor was an enthusiast and managed to form a trio; Poum on the violin, Chakrabongse at the piano, and himself wielding the concertina.
Drawing took place in the evening, and every Sunday morning there were dancing lessons in the enormous salon of the Winter Palace, taught by no less a personage than the Regisseur of the Imperial Ballet himself. He also must have been an enthusiast, for he offered no scaled-down conventional ballroom waltzes and polka to his oriental pupils, but an ambitious repertoire that included the polonaise, Pas-de-Quatre, Pas de Patineurs, Mazurka, Quadrille, Lancers, Chaconne, the Krakowiak, and an assortment of other picturesque Russian and Hungarian dances.
For the first year, Poum was obliged to take the lady’s part, and an amusing picture is conjured up of the two of them whirling round the vast empty ballroom, performing these exotic steps! Later, doubtless to Poum’s relief, lessons were held at the legation, where the daughters of the Brazilian and Spanish Ministers came to partner them.