happened, I hardly know how, that I got to mass rather later than usual.
On returning to my room, I was about taking off my court dress, when I
saw the Empress enter with a flushed and angry look. As she had not been
at the chapel mass, but had heard mass in her private oratory, I went to
meet her, to kiss her hand as usual, as I had not seen her before that
day. She kissed me, desired the Grand Duke to be sent for, and, while
waiting for him, scolded me for being late at mass, and preferring my
own adornment to the service of God. She added that in the time of the
Empress Anne, though not living at court, but in a house at some
distance from the palace, she had never failed in her duties, but often
got up by candle-light for this purpose. Then she sent for the valet de
chambre who dressed my hair, and told him that for the future, if he was
so slow in dressing my hair, she would have him dismissed. When she had
ended with him, the Grand Duke, who had undressed in his own room,
entered in his dressing-gown, with his night cap in his hand, and with a
gay and careless air. He ran to kiss the hand of the Empress, who
embraced him, and then asked him how he had dared to act in the manner
he had done, adding that she had gone into the room which contained the
mechanical table, and found the door all pierced with holes, all these
holes being directed towards the place where she usually sat; that he
seemed to have forgotten what he owed her; that she could no longer
consider him as anything but an ungrateful person; that her father,
Peter I., had also an ungrateful son, and that he punished him by
disinheriting him; that, in the time of the Empress Anne, she had never
failed in giving her the respect due to a crowned head, anointed of the
Lord; that the Empress Anne did not understand jokes, but sent to the
Fortress those who were wanting in respect; that as for him, he was but
a little boy, and she would teach him how to behave. At this he began
to get angry, and would have answered her, stammering out a few words to
this effect, but she commanded him to be silent, and became so excited
that her anger knew no bounds, as was usually the case when she got into
a passion. She loaded him with insults, and said all sorts of shocking
things, treating him with as much contempt as anger.
We were thunderstruck, and although this scene did not refer directly to
me, yet tears came into my eyes. She perceived this, and said to me,
"This does not apply to you; I know that you had nothing to do with this
act, and that you neither looked nor wished to look through the door."
This remark, which was correct, calmed her a little, and she stopped;
besides, it would have been difficult for her to have gone farther than
she had done. She then wished us good morning, and retired, with a
flushed face and flashing eyes. The Grand Duke went to his room, and I
undressed in silence, ruminating on what I had heard. When I had done,
the Duke returned, and said to me--in a tone half sheepish, half
comical--"She was like a fury, and did not know what she said." "She was
dreadfully angry," I replied. We talked over the matter, and then dined
in my room, quite alone. When the Grand Duke had gone to his own
apartments, Madame Krause entered my room. "It must be acknowledged,"
she said, "that the Empress has acted like a true mother to-day." I saw
she wished to make me talk, and therefore I said nothing. She continued:
"A mother gets angry, scolds her children, and there the matter ends;
you ought both of you to have said to her, _I beg your pardon, Madame_,
and you would have disarmed her." I said I was astounded and petrified
by her Majesty's anger, and all I could do at the moment was to listen
and be silent. She then left me, probably to make her report. As for me,
the "_I beg your pardon, Madame_," as a means of disarming the anger of
the Empress, remained in my head; and I have since used it with success,
when occasion required, as will be seen in the sequel.
Some time before the Empress had relieved Count Brummer and the Great
Chamberlain from attendance on the Grand Duke, I happened one day to go
earlier than usual into the ante-chamber. The Count was there alone, and
seized the occasion to speak to me. He begged and entreated me to go
every day to the Empress' dressing-room, as my mother, at leaving, had
obtained permission for me to do; a privilege of which I had made very
little use hitherto, as it was a prerogative which wearied me
excessively. I had gone once or twice, and found there the Empress'
women, who retired by degrees, so that I was left alone. I told him
this. He said it was of no consequence, I ought to continue. But I could
not understand this courtier-like perseverance. It might answer his
views, but it did not at all suit me to be kept standing in the Empress'
dressing-room, and be, besides, an inconvenience to her. I stated to him
my repugnance, but he did everything to persuade me, though without
success. I was much better pleased to be in my own rooms, especially
when Madame Krause was not there. I had discovered in her this winter a
very decided propensity for drink, and as she soon after got her
daughter married to the Marshal of the Court, Sievers, she either was
out a good deal, or my people contrived to make her tipsy, when she went
to sleep, and my room was delivered from this surly Argus.
Count Brummer and the Grand Chamberlain Berkholz having been relieved
from their duties about the Prince, the Empress named as his attendant
General Prince Basil Repnine. A better appointment could not have been
made, for Prince Repnine was not only a man of honour and probity, he
was also a man of talent, a very worthy man, candid and straightforward.
For my own-self, I had every reason to be satisfied with the conduct of
Prince Repnine. For Count Brummer I felt no regret; he wearied me with
his eternal politics, he smelt of intrigue; while the frank and
soldier-like character of Prince Repnine inspired me with confidence. As
for the Grand Duke, he was delighted to get rid of his pedagogues, whom
he hated. In quitting him, however, they left him with no slight anxiety
at finding himself at the mercy of the intrigues of Count Bestoujeff,
who was the prime mover in all these changes, made under the plausible
pretext of the majority of his Imperial Highness in his duchy of
Holstein. Prince Augustus, my uncle, was still at St. Petersburg,
watching the administration of the Grand Duke's hereditary territory.
In the month of May we moved to the Summer Palace. At the end of the
month the Empress placed with me, as chief housekeeper, Madame
Tchoglokoff, one of her maids of honour, and her relative. This was a
thunderbolt for me. This lady was altogether in the interest of Count
Bestoujeff, extremely silly, spiteful, capricious, and very selfish. Her
husband, Chamberlain to the Empress, was then gone on some sort of
mission from her Majesty to Vienna. I wept a great deal on seeing her
arrive, and all the rest of the day. I was to be bled on the following
day. In the morning the Empress came to my room, and seeing my eyes red,
said to me that young women who did not love their husbands were always
crying; that my mother, however, had assured her I had no repugnance to
marrying the Grand Duke; that, besides, she had not forced me; that, as
I was married, I must not cry any more. I remembered the instructions of
Madame Krause, and said to her, _I beg your pardon, Madame_, and she was
appeased. Meanwhile the Grand Duke came in, and this time the Empress
received him very graciously, and then went away. I was bled, and indeed
I required it; I then went to bed, and wept the whole day. The next day,
the Grand Duke drew me aside in the course of the afternoon, and I saw
clearly that they had given him to understand that Madame Tchoglokoff
had been placed with me because I did not love him. But I cannot
understand how they expected to increase my attachment for him by giving
me that woman; and so I told him. As to placing her with me as an Argus,
that was a different matter. But if this was their object, they ought to
have chosen some one less stupid; and, besides, it was not necessary for
this purpose to be spiteful and malevolent. Madame Tchoglokoff was
thought to be extremely virtuous, because she loved her husband to
adoration. She had married him for love: so excellent an example placed
before me would perhaps persuade me to imitate it. We shall see how far
the experiment was successful. In all probability, it was the
circumstance which I am about to relate which precipitated this
arrangement. I say precipitated, because I believe that, from the
beginning, Count Bestoujeff had it in view to surround us with his
creatures. He would gladly have done the same in the case of the Empress
also, but that was not so easy.
The Grand Duke, at the time I arrived in Moscow, had in his service
three domestics named Czernicheff, all three sons of grenadiers in the
bodyguard of the Empress. Their fathers held the rank of lieutenant,
which they received as a recompense for having aided in placing the
Empress on the throne. The oldest of the Czernicheffs was cousin to the
two others, who were brothers. The Grand Duke was very fond of all
three. They were the persons most in his confidence, and were really
very useful. All three were tall and well made, especially the oldest.
The Duke made use of him in all his commissions, and several times in
the day he sent him to me. He it was, too, whom the Duke made his
confidant when he did not care to come to me. This man was on very
intimate and friendly terms with my valet Yevreinoff, and through this
channel I often knew things which I should otherwise have been ignorant
of. Besides, both of them were attached to me heart and soul, and I
often obtained information from them, on a variety of matters, which it
would have been difficult to have procured otherwise. I do not know in
reference to what it was that the oldest of the Czernicheffs said one
day to the Grand Duke, "she is not my intended, but yours." This
expression made the Grand Duke laugh. He related it to me, and from that
time it pleased his Imperial Highness, when speaking to me, to call me
his intended, and Andrew Czernicheff your intended. After our marriage
Andrew Czernicheff, to put a stop to this badinage, proposed to his
Imperial Highness to call me his mother, and I, on my part, called him
my son. Now between the Grand Duke and myself there was always some
reference to this son, for he was excessively attached to the man; and I
also liked him very much.
My servants were greatly disturbed on this account; some through
jealousy, others from apprehension of the consequences which might
result both for them and for us. One day when there was a masked ball at
court, and I had gone to my room to change my dress, my valet Timothy
Yevreinoff took me aside, and told me that he and all my servants were
terrified at the danger into which he saw me plunging. I asked him what
he meant. He said, "You speak of nothing and think of nothing but Andrew
Czernicheff." "Well," I said, in the innocence of my heart, "what harm
is there in that? He is my son. The Grand Duke likes him as much and
more than I do; and he is devoted and faithful to us." "Yes," he
replied, "that is all very true; the Grand Duke can do as he pleases;
but you have not the same right. What you call kindness and attachment,
because this man is faithful and serves you, your people call love." The
utterance of this word, which had never once occurred to me, was a
thunderbolt; first, on account of the opinion of my servants, which I
called rash; secondly, on account of the condition in which I had placed
myself, without being aware of it. He told me that he had advised his
friend Czernicheff to pretend illness in order to put an end to these
remarks. This advice Czernicheff followed, and his feigned illness
lasted pretty nearly to the month of April. The Grand Duke was much
concerned about him, and spoke of him continually to me. He had not the
slightest suspicion of the real circumstances. At the Summer Palace
Andrew Czernicheff again made his appearance. I could no longer meet him
without embarrassment. Meanwhile the Empress had thought proper to make
a new arrangement with the servants of the court. They were to serve in
turn in all the rooms, and Andrew Czernicheff like the rest. The Grand
Duke often had concerts in the afternoon, and he himself played the
violin at them. During one of these concerts, which usually wearied me,
I went to my own room. This opened into the great hall of the Summer
Palace, which was then filled with scaffoldings, as they were painting
the ceiling. The Empress was absent; Madame Krause had gone to her
daughter's, Madame Sievers; and I did not find a soul in my room. From
_ennui_ I opened the door of the hall, and saw at the other end Andrew
Czernicheff. I made a sign to him to approach; he came to the door,
though with much apprehension. I asked him if the Empress would return
soon. He said, "I cannot speak to you; they make too much noise in the
hall; let me come into your room." I replied, "That I will not do." He
was outside the door and I within, holding the door half open as I spoke
to him. An involuntary impulse made me turn my head in the direction
opposite to the door at which I stood, and I saw behind me at the other
door of my dressing-room, the Chamberlain, Count Divier, who said to me,
"The Grand Duke wishes to see you, madam." I closed the door of the
hall, and returned with Count Divier to the apartment where the Grand
Duke was giving his concert. I have since learnt that Count Divier was a
kind of reporter employed as such, like many others about me. The
following day, which was Sunday, after mass, we learnt--that is, the
Grand Duke and I--that the three Czernicheffs had been placed as
lieutenants in the regiments stationed near Orenburg; and in the
afternoon of this day Madame Tchoglokoff was placed with me.
A few days afterwards, we received orders to prepare to accompany the
Empress to Reval. At the same time, Madame Tchoglokoff told me from her
Majesty that, for the future, her Imperial Majesty would dispense with
my coming to her dressing-room, and that if I had any communication to
make to her it must not be made through any one but Madame Tchoglokoff.
In my own mind, I was delighted with this order, which relieved me from
the necessity of being kept standing among the Empress' women; besides,
I seldom went to her dressing-room, and then but rarely saw her. During
the whole time that I had been going there I had not seen her more than
three or four times, and, generally speaking, whenever I went, her women
quitted the room one after the other. Not to be left there alone, I
seldom stayed long either.
In the month of June the Empress set out for Reval, and we accompanied
her. The Grand Duke and I travelled in a carriage for four persons;
Prince Augustus and Madame Tchoglokoff made up its complement. Our plan
of travelling was neither agreeable nor convenient. The post-houses or
stations were occupied by the Empress; we were accommodated in tents or
in the outhouses. I remember that on one occasion, during this journey,
I dressed near the oven where the bread had just been baked; and that
another time, when I entered the tent where my bed was placed, there was
water in it up to the ankle. Besides all this, the Empress had no fixed
hour, either for setting out or stopping, for meals or repose. We were
all, masters and servants, strangely harassed.
After ten or twelve days' march, we reached an estate belonging to Count
Steinbock, forty verstes from Reval. From this place the Empress
departed in great state, wishing to reach Catherinthal in the evening;
but somehow it happened that the journey was prolonged till half-past
one in the morning.
During the entire journey, from St. Petersburg to Reval, Madame
Tchoglokoff was the torment of our carriage. To the simplest thing that
was said, she would reply, "Such a remark would displease her Majesty;"
or, "Such a thing would not be approved of by her Majesty." It was
sometimes to the most innocent and indifferent matters that she
attached these etiquettes. As for me, I made up my mind, and during the
whole journey slept continually while in the carriage.
From the day after our arrival at Catherinthal, the court recommenced
its ordinary round of occupations; that is to say, from morning till
night, and far into the night, gambling, and for rather high stakes, was
carried on in the ante-chamber of the Empress, a hall which divided the
house and its two stories into two sections.
Madame Tchoglokoff was a gambler; she induced me to play at faro like
the rest. All the favourites of the Empress were ordinarily fixed here
when they did not happen to be in her Majesty's room, or rather tent,
for she had erected a very large and magnificent tent at the side of her
apartments, which were on the ground floor, and very small, as was
usually the case with the structures of Peter I. He had built this
country residence, and planted the garden.
The Prince and Princess Repnine, who were of the party, and were aware
of the arrogant and senseless conduct of Madame Tchoglokoff during the
journey, persuaded me to speak of it to the Countess Schouvaloff and
Madame Ismaïloff, the ladies most in her Majesty's favour. These ladies
had no love for Madame Tchoglokoff, and they had already learnt what had
happened. The little Countess Schouvaloff, who was indiscretion itself,
did not wait for me to speak to her, but happening to be seated by my
side at play, she introduced the subject herself, and, being very
humorous, she placed the whole conduct of Madame Tchoglokoff in such a
ridiculous light, that she soon made her the laughing-stock of every
one. She did more; she related to the Empress all that had passed. It
would seem as if Madame Tchoglokoff had received a reproof, for she
lowered her tone very considerably with me. Indeed, there was much need
of this being done, for I began to feel a great tendency to melancholy.
I felt totally isolated. The Grand Duke, at Reval, took a passing fancy
for a Madame Cédéraparre. As usual, he did not fail to confide the
matter to me immediately. I had frequent pains in the chest, and at
Catherinthal a spitting of blood, for which I was bled. On the afternoon
of that day, Madame Tchoglokoff came to my room, and found me in tears.
With a countenance greatly softened, she asked me what was the matter,
and proposed to me, on the part of the Empress, to take a walk in the
garden, to dissipate my hopochondria, as she said. That day the Grand
Duke had gone to hunt with the Master of the Hounds, Count Razoumowsky.
She also placed in my hands, as a present from her Imperial Majesty,
3000 roubles, for playing at faro. The ladies had noticed that I was
without money, and told the Empress. I begged Madame Tchoglokoff to
thank her Majesty for her goodness, and then went with her for a walk in
the garden.
Some days after our arrival at Catherinthal, the High Chancellor, Count
Bestoujeff, arrived, accompanied by the Imperial Ambassador, the Baron
Preyslain, and we learned, by the tenor of his congratulations, that the
two imperial courts had just become united by a treaty of alliance. In
consequence of this, the Empress went to see her fleet manoeuvre; but,
except the smoke of the cannons, we saw nothing. The day was excessively
hot, and the sea perfectly calm. On returning from this manoeuvre,
there was a ball in the Empress' tents, which were erected on the
terrace. The supper was spread in the open air, around a basin intended
for a fountain; but scarcely had her Majesty taken her seat, when there
came on a shower which wetted the entire company, forcing it to
disperse and seek shelter, as best it could, in the houses and in the
tents. Thus ended this _fête_.
Some days afterwards the Empress departed for Roguervick. The fleet
manoeuvred there also, and again we saw nothing but smoke. In this
journey we all suffered very much in our feet. The soil of the place is
a rock, covered with a thick bed of pebbles, of such a nature that if
one stood for a short time in the same spot, the feet would sink in and
the pebbles cover them. We encamped here for several days, and were
forced to walk, in passing from tent to tent, and in our tents, upon
this ground. For more than four months afterwards my feet were sore in
consequence. The convicts who worked at the pier wore sabots, and even
these seldom lasted beyond eight or ten days.
The imperial ambassador had followed her Majesty to this port. He dined
there and supped with her half-way between Roguervick and Reval. During
this supper an old woman, who had reached the age of 130 years, was led
before the Empress. She looked like a walking skeleton. The Empress sent
her meat from her own table, as well as money, and we continued our
journey.
On our return to Catherinthal, Madame Tchoglokoff had the satisfaction
of finding there her husband, who had returned from his mission to
Vienna. Many of the court equipages had already taken the road for Riga,
whither the Empress intended to go. But on her return from Roguervick
she suddenly changed her mind. Many people tormented their brains, in
vain, to discover the cause of this change. Several years afterwards it
came to light. When M. Tchoglokoff was passing through Riga, a Lutheran
priest, a madman or a fanatic, placed in his hands a letter and a
memorial addressed to the Empress, in which he exhorted her not to
undertake this journey, as if she did she would incur the most imminent
risk; that there were people posted in ambush by the enemies of the
empire for the purpose of killing her, and such like absurdities. These
writings, being delivered to the Empress, left her in no humour for
travelling farther. As for the priest, he was found to be mad; but the
journey did not take place.
We returned by short stages from Reval to St. Petersburg. I caught in
this journey a severe sore throat, which compelled me to keep my bed for
several days; after which we went to Peterhoff, and thence made weekly
excursions to Oranienbaum.
At the beginning of August the Empress sent word to the Grand Duke and
myself that we ought to go to our duty. We both complied with her
wishes, and immediately began to have matins and vespers sung in our
apartments, and to go to mass every day. On the Friday, when we were to
go to confession, the cause of this order became apparent. Simon
Theodorsky, Bishop of Pleskov, questioned us both a great deal, and each
separately, respecting what had passed between the Czernicheffs and us.
But as nothing whatever had passed, he looked a little foolish when he
heard it asserted, with the candour of innocence, that there was not
even the shadow of what people had dared to suppose. He was so far
thrown off his guard as to say to me, "But how then is it that the
Empress has been impressed to the contrary?" To which I replied, that I
really did not know. I suppose our confessor communicated our confession
to the Empress' confessor, and that the latter retailed it to her
Majesty--a thing which certainly could do us no harm. We communicated
on the Saturday, and on the Monday went for a week to Oranienbaum, while
the Empress made an excursion to Zarskoe-Selo.