chamberlains, the gentlemen of the bed-chamber, the officers of the
court, the adjutants of Prince Repnine, and even his son, the servants,
the huntsmen, the gardeners, every one, in fact, had to shoulder his
musket. His Imperial Highness exercised them every day, and made them
mount guard, the corridor of the house serving as a guard-room, and here
they passed the day. For their meals the gentlemen went up stairs, and
in the evening they came into the hall to dance in gaiters. As for
ladies there were only myself, Madame Tchoglokoff, the Princess Repnine,
my three maids of honour, and my lady's-maids; consequently the ball was
very meagre and badly managed, the men harassed and in bad humour with
these continual military exercises, which did not suit the taste of
courtiers. After the ball they were allowed to go home to sleep.
Generally speaking, we were all dreadfully tired of the dull life we led
at Oranienbaum, where we were, five or six women, all to ourselves;
while the men, on their side, were engaged in unwilling exercises. I had
recourse to the books I had brought with me. Since my marriage I read a
great deal. The first book I read after my marriage was a novel called
Tiran the Fair (Tiran le blanc), and for a whole year I read nothing but
novels. But I began to tire of these. I stumbled by accident upon the
letters of Madame de Sévigné, and was much interested by them. When I
had devoured these, the works of Voltaire fell into my hands. After
reading them, I selected my books with more care.
We returned to Peterhoff, and after two or three journeys backwards and
forwards, between that place and Oranienbaum, with the same amusements,
we finally got back to St. Petersburg, and took up our residence in the
Summer Palace.
At the close of autumn the Empress passed to the Winter Palace, where
she occupied our apartments of the previous year; while we moved into
those occupied by the Grand Duke before our marriage. These we liked
very much, and, indeed, they were very convenient. They were those used
by the Empress Anne. Every evening the members of our court assembled in
our apartments, and we amused ourselves with all kinds of small games,
or we had a concert. Twice a-week there was a performance at the great
theatre, which at that time was opposite the church of Kasan. In a word,
this winter was one of the gayest and best managed I have ever spent. We
literally did nothing but laugh and romp the whole day.
About the middle of the winter, the Empress sent us word to follow her
to Tichvine, where she was going. It was a journey of devotion; but just
as we were about to enter our sledges, we learnt that the journey was
put off. It was whispered to us that the Master of the Hounds, Count
Razoumowsky, had got a fit of the gout, and that her Majesty did not
wish to go without him. About two or three weeks afterwards we did
start. The journey lasted only five days, when we returned. In passing
through Ribatchia Slobodk, and by the house where I knew the
Czernicheffs were, I tried to see them through the windows, but I could
see nothing. Prince Repnine was not in the party during this journey; we
were told that he had the gravel. The husband of Madame Tchoglokoff took
his place on the occasion, and this was not the most agreeable
arrangement in the world for most of us. He was an arrogant and brutal
fool; everybody feared him, and his wife as well; and indeed, they were
both mischievous and dangerous characters. However, there were means, as
will be seen in the sequel, not only of lulling these Arguses to sleep,
but even of gaining them over. At that time these means had not been
discovered. One of the surest was to play at faro with them; they were
both eager players, and very selfish ones. This weak point was the one
first perceived; the others came afterwards.
During this winter, the Princess Gagarine, maid of honour, died of a
burning fever, just as she was to be married to the Chamberlain Prince
Galitzine, who subsequently married her younger sister. I regretted her
very much, and during her illness I went several times to see her,
notwithstanding the representations of Madame Tchoglokoff. The Empress
replaced her by her elder sister, since married to count Matiuschkine.
She was then at Moscow, and was sent for accordingly.
In the spring, we went to the Summer Palace, and thence to the country.
Prince Repnine, under the pretext of bad health, received permission to
retire to his own house, and M. Tchoglokoff continued to discharge his
functions in the interim. He first signalized himself by the dismissal
from our court of Count Divier, who was placed as brigadier in the army,
and of the Gentleman of the Bedchamber Villebois, who was sent there as
colonel. These changes were made at the instigation of Tchoglokoff, who
looked on both with an evil eye, because he saw that we thought well of
them. A similar dismissal had taken place in 1745, in the case of Count
Zachar Czernicheff, sent away at the request of my mother. Still these
removals were always considered at court as disgraces, and they were
therefore sensibly felt by the individuals. The Grand Duke and myself
were much annoyed with this latter one. Prince Augustus, too, having
obtained all he had asked for, was told from the Empress that he must
now leave. This also was a manoeuvre of the Tchoglokoffs, who were
bent upon completely isolating us. In this they followed the
instructions of Count Bestoujeff, who was suspicious of everybody.
During this summer, having nothing better to do, and everything being
very dull at home, I took a passion for riding; the rest of my time I
spent in my room, reading everything that came in my way. As for the
Grand Duke, as they had taken from him the people he liked best, he
chose other favourites among the servants of the court.
During this interval, my valet Yevreinoff, while dressing my hair one
day, told me that by a strange accident he had discovered that Andrew
Czernicheff and his brothers were at Ribatchia, under arrest, in a
pleasure-house, which was the private property of the Empress, who had
inherited it from her mother. It was thus that the discovery was
made:--During the carnival, Yevreinoff went out for a drive, having his
wife and sister-in-law with him in the sledge, and the two
brothers-in-law behind. The sister's husband was secretary to the
Magistrate of St. Petersburg, and had a sister married to an
under-secretary of the secret Chancery. They went for a walk one day to
Ribatchia, and called on the man who had charge of this estate of the
Empress. A dispute arose about the Feast of Easter, as to what day it
would fall on. The host said that he would soon end the controversy by
asking the prisoners for a book called Swiatzj, which contained all the
Feasts, together with the calendar, for several years. In a few minutes
he brought it in. The brother-in-law of Yevreinoff took the book, and
the first thing he saw, on opening it, was that Andrew Czernicheff had
put his name in it, with the date of the day on which he had received it
from the Grand Duke. After this he looked for the Feast of Easter. The
dispute being ended, the book was sent back, and they returned to St.
Petersburg, where some days later, the brother-in-law of Yevreinoff
confided to him the discovery he had made. Yevreinoff entreated me not
to mention the matter to the Grand Duke, as his discretion was not at
all to be relied on. I promised him that I would not, and kept my word.
About the middle of Lent, we went with the Empress to Gostilitza, to
celebrate the feast-day of the Master of the Hounds, Count Razoumowsky.
We danced, and were tolerably well amused, and then returned to town.
A few days afterwards, the death of my father was announced to me. It
greatly afflicted me. For a week I was allowed to weep as much as I
pleased, but at the end of that time, Madame Tchoglokoff came to tell me
that I had wept enough; that the Empress ordered me to leave off; that
my father was not a king. I told her I knew that he was not a king, and
she replied that it was not suitable for a Grand Duchess to mourn for a
longer period a father who had not been a king. In fine, it was arranged
that I should go out on the following Sunday, and wear mourning for six
weeks.
The first day I left my room, I found Count Santi, Grand Master of
Ceremonies to the Empress, in her Majesty's ante-chamber. I addressed a
few casual remarks to him, and passed on. Some days later, Madame
Tchoglokoff came to tell me that her Majesty had learned from Count
Bestoujeff--to whom Santi had given the information in writing--that I
had told him (Santi) I thought it very strange that the ambassadors had
not offered their condolences to me on the occasion of my father's
death; that her Majesty considered my remarks to Count Santi very
uncalled for; that I was too proud; that I ought to remember that my
father was not a king, and therefore that I could not and must not
expect to receive the condolences of the foreign ministers. I was
astounded at this speech. I told Madame Tchoglokoff that, if Count Santi
had said or written that I had spoken to him a single word having the
least allusion to this subject, he was a notorious liar; that nothing of
the kind had ever entered my mind; and therefore that I had not uttered
a syllable to him or any one else in reference to it. This was the exact
truth, for I had laid it down to myself as an invariable rule never, in
any case, to make any pretensions, but to conform in everything to the
wishes of the Empress, and fulfil all her commands. It would seem that
the ingenuousness with which I replied to Madame Tchoglokoff carried
conviction to her mind, for she said she would not fail to tell the
Empress that I gave the lie to Count Santi. In fact, she went to her
Majesty, and came back to tell me that the Empress was extremely angry
with Count Santi for having uttered such a falsehood, and that she had
ordered him to be reprimanded. Some days afterwards, the Count sent
several persons to me, and among them the Chamberlain, Count Nikita
Panine, and the Vice-Chancellor, Woronzoff, to tell me that Count
Bestoujeff had forced him to tell this falsehood, and that he was sorry
to find himself in disgrace with me in consequence. I told these
gentlemen that a liar was a liar, whatever might be his reasons for
lying; and that, in order that Count Santi might not again mix me up
with his falsehoods, I should never speak to him. Here is what has
occurred to me in reference to this matter: Santi was an Italian. He
was fond of intermeddling, and attached much importance to his office of
Grand Master of Ceremonies. I had always spoken to him as I spoke to
every one else. He thought, perhaps, that compliments of condolence on
the part of the diplomatic corps might be admissible; and, judging by
his own feelings, he probably considered that this would be a means of
obliging me. He went then to Count Bestoujeff, the High Chancellor, and
his superior, and told him that I had appeared in public for the first
time, and seemed very much affected; the omission of the condolences
might have added to my grief. Count Bestoujeff, always carping, and
delighted to have an opportunity of humbling me, had all that Santi said
or insinuated--and which he had ventured to support with my name--put
into writing, and made him sign this protocol. Santi, terribly afraid of
his superior, and above all things dreading to lose his place, did not
hesitate to sign a falsehood rather than sacrifice his means of
existence. The High Chancellor sent the note to the Empress. She was
annoyed to see my pretensions, and despatched Madame Tchoglokoff to me,
as already mentioned. But having heard my reply, founded upon the exact
truth, the only result was a slap in the face for his excellency the
Grand Master of the Ceremonies.
In the country, the Grand Duke formed a pack of hounds, and began to
train dogs himself. When tired of tormenting these, he set to work
scraping on the violin. He did not know a note, but he had a good ear,
and made the beauty of music consist in the force and violence with
which he drew forth the tones of his instrument. Those who had to listen
to him, however, would often have been glad to stop their ears had they
dared, for his music grated on them dreadfully. This course of life
continued not only in the country, but also in town. On returning to
the Winter Palace, Madame Krause--who had all along been an
Argus--moderated so far as often even to aid in deceiving the
Tchoglokoffs, who were hated by every one. She did more: she procured
for the Grand Duke playthings--puppets, and such like childish toys, of
which he was passionately fond. During the day, they were concealed
within, or under my bed; the Grand Duke retired immediately after
supper, and as soon as we were in bed Madame Krause locked the door, and
then the Grand Duke played with his puppets till one or two o'clock in
the morning. Willing or unwilling, I was obliged to share in this
interesting amusement; and so was Madame Krause. I often laughed, but
more frequently felt annoyed, and even inconvenienced; the whole bed was
covered and filled with playthings, some of which were rather heavy. I
do not know whether Madame Tchoglokoff came to hear of these nocturnal
amusements, but one night, about twelve o'clock, she knocked at the door
of our bed room. We did not open it immediately, as the Grand Duke,
myself, and Madame Krause were scrambling with all our might to gather
up and conceal the toys: for this purpose the cover-lid of the bed
answered very well, as we crammed them all in under it. This done, we
opened the door. She complained dreadfully of having been kept waiting,
and told us that the Empress would be very angry when she learnt that we
were not asleep at that hour. She then sulkily departed, without having
made any further discovery. As soon as she was gone, the Duke resumed
his amusements until he became sleepy.
At the commencement of autumn we again returned to the apartments which
we had occupied after our marriage, in the Winter Palace. Here, a very
stringent order was issued by the Empress through M. Tchoglokoff,
forbidding every one from entering either my apartments or those of the
Grand Duke, without the express permission of M. and Madame Tchoglokoff.
The ladies and gentlemen of our court were directed, under pain of
dismissal, to keep in the ante-chamber, and not to pass the threshold,
or speak to us--or even to the servants--otherwise than aloud. The Grand
Duke and myself, thus compelled to sit looking at each other, murmured,
and secretly interchanged thoughts relative to this species of
imprisonment, which neither of us had deserved. To procure for himself
more amusement during the winter, the Duke had five or six hounds
brought from the country, and placed them behind a wooden partition
which separated the alcove of my bed-room from a large vestibule behind
our apartments. As the alcove was separated only by boards, the odour of
the kennel penetrated into it; and in the midst of this disgusting smell
we both slept. When I complained to him of the inconvenience, he told me
it was impossible to help it. The kennel being a great secret, I put up
with this nuisance, rather than betray his Imperial Highness.
As there was no kind of amusement at court during this carnival, the
Grand Duke took it into his head to have masquerades in my room. He
dressed his servants, mine, and my maids in masks, and made them dance
in my bed-room. He himself played the violin, and danced as well. All
this continued far into the night. As for me, under different pretexts
of headache or lassitude, I lay down on a couch, but always in a
masquerade dress, tired to death of the insipidity of these
_bal-masqués_, which amused him infinitely. When Lent came on, four more
persons were removed from attendance on him, three of them being pages,
whom he liked better than the others. These frequent dismissals affected
him; still he took no steps to prevent them, or he took them so clumsily
that they only tended to increase the evil.
During this winter, we learnt that Prince Repnine, ill as he was, had
been appointed to command the troops which were to be sent to Bohemia,
in aid of the Empress-Queen Maria Theresa. This was a formal disgrace
for Prince Repnine. He went, and never returned, having died of grief in
Bohemia. It was the Princess Gagarine, my maid of honour, who gave me
the first intimation of this, notwithstanding all the prohibitions
against allowing a word to reach us relative to what occurred in the
city or the court. This shows how useless are all such prohibitions.
There are too many persons interested in infringing them ever to allow
of their being strictly enforced. All about us, even to the nearest
relatives of the Tchoglokoffs, interested themselves in diminishing the
rigour of the kind of political imprisonment to which we were subjected.
There was no one, not even excepting Madame Tchoglokoff's own brother,
Count Hendrikoff, who did not contrive to give us useful intimations;
and many persons even made use of him to convey information to me, which
he was always ready to do with the frankness of a good and honest
fellow. He ridiculed the stupidities and brutalities of his sister and
brother-in-law in such a manner that every one was at ease with him, and
no one ever thought of distrusting him, for he never compromised any
one, nor had any person ever been disappointed in him. He was a man of
correct but limited judgment, ill-bred, and very ignorant, but firm, and
without any evil.
During this same Lent, one day about noon, I went into the room where
our ladies and gentlemen were assembled--the Tchoglokoffs had not yet
come--and in speaking first to one and then to another, I approached the
door near which the Chamberlain Outzine was standing. In a low voice he
turned the conversation to the subject of the dull life we led, and
said, that notwithstanding all this, people contrived to prejudice us in
the mind of the Empress; that a few days before, her Imperial Majesty
had said at table that I was overwhelmed with debt; that every thing I
did bore the stamp of folly; that for all that I thought myself very
clever--an opinion, however, in which no one else shared, for nobody was
deceived in me, my stupidity being patent to all; and therefore that it
was less necessary to mind what the Grand Duke did than what I did. He
added, with tears in his eyes, that he was ordered by the Empress to
tell me all this, but he begged me not to let it be supposed that he had
told me of this order. I replied, that as to my stupidity it ought not
to be objected to me as a fault, every one being just what God had made
him; that as to my debts it was not very surprising I should be in debt
when, with an allowance of 30,000 roubles, my mother, at parting, left
me to pay 6,000 roubles on her account, while the Countess Roumianzoff
had led me into innumerable expenses which she considered as
indispensable; that Madame Tchoglokoff alone cost me this year 17,000
roubles, and that he himself knew what infernal play one was constantly
obliged to play with them; that he might say all this to those who had
sent him; that for the rest, I was very sorry I had been prejudiced in
the opinion of her Imperial Majesty, to whom I had never failed in
respect, obedience, and deference, and that the more closely my conduct
was looked into the more would she be convinced of this. I promised him
the secrecy he asked for, and kept it. I do not know whether he
reported what I told him, but I fancy he did, though I heard no more of
the matter, and did not care to renew a conversation so little
agreeable.
During the last week of Lent, I took the measles. I could not make my
appearance at Easter, but received the communion in my room, on the
Saturday. During this illness, Madame Tchoglokoff, though far advanced
in pregnancy, scarcely ever left me, and did all she could to amuse me.
I had then a little Kalmuck girl, of whom I was very fond. She caught
the measles from me. After Easter, we went to the Summer Palace, and
thence, at the end of May--for the Feast of the Ascension--to the
residence of the Count Razoumowsky, at Gostilitza. The Empress invited
there, on the 23rd of this month, the Ambassador of the Imperial Court,
the Baron Breitlack, who was about to leave for Vienna. He spent the
evening there, and supped with the Empress. This supper was served at a
very late hour, and we returned to the cottage in which we were lodged
after sunrise. This cottage was of wood, placed on a slight elevation,
and attached to the slides.[8] We had been pleased with the situation of
this cottage when we were here in the winter, for the fête of the Master
of the Hounds; and, in order to gratify us, he had placed us in it on
the present occasion. It had two stories; the upper one consisted of a
staircase, a saloon, and three cabinets. In one of these we slept, the
Grand Duke used another as a dressing-room, and Madame Krause occupied
the third. Below were lodged the Tchoglokoffs, my maids of honour, and
my lady's-maids. On our return from supper, every one retired to rest.
About six o'clock in the morning, a sergeant in the guards, Levacheff,
arrived from Oranienbaum, to speak to Tchoglokoff relative to the
buildings which were in the course of erection there. Finding every one
asleep in the house, he sat down by the sentinel, and heard certain
crackling noises, which excited his suspicions. The sentinel told him
that these cracklings had been several times renewed since he had been
on duty. Levacheff got up, and ran to the outside of the house. He saw
that large blocks of stone were detaching themselves from the lower
portion. He ran and woke Tchoglokoff, telling him that the foundations
of the house were giving way, and that he must try and get every one out
of it. Tchoglokoff put on a dressing-gown, and ran up stairs; where,
finding the doors--which were of glass--locked, he burst them open. He
thus reached our room, and drawing the curtains, desired us to get up as
fast as possible and leave the house, as the foundations were giving
way. The Grand Duke leaped out of bed, seized his dressing-gown, and ran
off. I told Tchoglokoff that I would follow him, and he left me. While
dressing I recollected that Madame Krause slept in the next room, and
went to call her. She was so sound asleep that I had much difficulty in
waking her, and then in making her understand that she must leave the
house. I helped her to dress. When she was in a condition to go out, we
passed into the drawing-room; but we had scarcely done so, when there
was a universal crash, accompanied by a noise like that made by a vessel
launched from the docks. We both fell on the ground. At the moment of
our fall, Levacheff entered by the staircase door, which was opposite
us. He raised me up, and carried me out of the room. I accidentally cast
my eyes towards the slides: they had been on a level with the second
story; they were so no longer but some two or three feet below it.
Levacheff reached with me as far as the stairs by which he had ascended;
they were no longer to be found, they had fallen; but several persons
having climbed upon the wreck, Levacheff passed me to the nearest, these
to the others, and thus from hand to hand I reached the bottom of the
staircase in the hall, and thence was carried into a field. I there
found the Grand Duke in his dressing-gown.