Peterhoff, where, year by year, our stay became abridged. This year an
occurrence took place which furnished the courtiers with matter for
gossip: it was caused by the intrigues of the Messieurs Schouvaloff.
Colonel Beketoff, of whom I have spoken above, not knowing what to do
with himself during the favour which he enjoyed, although it increased
to such a point that, from day to day, people were waiting to see which
of the two would yield his place to the other, that is to say, Beketoff
to John Schouvaloff, or the latter to Beketoff--not knowing, as I have
said, how to amuse himself, it occurred to him to have the Empress'
choir of singing boys perform at his own residence. In several of them
he took a special interest, on account of the beauty of their voices;
and as both himself and his friend Yelagine were versifiers, they
composed songs which the children sung. To this an odious interpretation
was given; for it was well known that nothing was more detested by the
Empress than vice of such a nature. Beketoff, in the innocence of his
heart, would walk in the garden with these children; this was imputed to
him as a crime. The Empress went away to Zarskoe-Selo for a couple of
days, and then returned to Peterhoff, where M. Beketoff received orders
to remain, under the plea of indisposition. He did, in fact, remain
there with Yelagine, caught there a violent fever, which threatened his
life, and in the ravings of his delirium, did nothing but talk about the
Empress, with whom he was thoroughly taken up. He recovered; but he
remained in disgrace, and retired, after which he was placed in the
army, where he was not successful. He was too effeminate for the
profession of arms.
In the meanwhile we proceeded to Oranienbaum, where we went hunting
every day. Towards autumn, in the month of September, we returned to the
city. The Empress placed at our court M. Leon Narichkine as gentleman of
the bedchamber. He immediately hastened from Moscow with his mother, his
brother, his brother's wife, and his three sisters. He was one of the
most singular persons I have ever known, and no one has ever made me
laugh so much as he has done. He was a born harlequin, and had he not
been by birth what he was, he might have gained a subsistence, and a
handsome one too, by his extraordinary talent for humour. He was not at
all wanting in understanding. He had heard of everything, and everything
arranged itself in his head after a fashion of his own. He could give a
dissertation on any art or science he chose. He would employ all the
technical terms belonging to his subject, and would talk to you for a
quarter of an hour or more without stopping; and at the end, neither
himself nor any one else would understand anything of the string of
words which had flowed so readily from his lips, and the whole, of
course, would finish with a general burst of laughter. Among other
things he said of history, that he did not like history in which there
were _histories_,[11] and that in order that a history should be good it
must be devoid of _history_, that otherwise history became mere rant.
But it was on politics that he was inimitable. When he began on this
subject, it was impossible for any one, however serious, to resist him.
He used to say, too, that of well-written plays the greater part were
very wearisome.
Scarcely had he been appointed to the court when the Empress sent
orders to his eldest sister to marry a M. Seniavine, who, for that
purpose, was placed in our court as gentleman of the bedchamber. This
was a thunderbolt for the young lady, who consented to this marriage
with the greatest repugnance. It was very ill received by the public
also, and all the blame of it was cast on M. Schouvaloff, the favourite
of the Empress, who, before his rise to favour, had been very partial to
this young lady, for whom they made up this bad match in order that he
might lose sight of her. This was a species of persecution truly
tyrannical. At last she married, became consumptive, and died.
By the end of September, we returned to the Winter Palace. The court was
at this time so badly off for furniture that the same mirrors, beds,
chairs, tables, and drawers which served us at the Winter Palace, passed
with us to the Summer Palace, and thence to Peterhoff, following us even
to Moscow. A good number were broken and cracked in these different
journeys, and, in this state of dilapidation, they were supplied to us;
so that it was difficult to make use of them, while to get others an
express order from the Empress was required. As she was almost always
very difficult of access, if not inaccessible, I resolved to buy, by
degrees, with my own money, chests of drawers and the other more
necessary articles of furniture, as well for the Winter as the Summer
Palace; so that when I passed from the one house to the other, I found
everything I wanted without difficulty and without the inconveniences of
transport. The Grand Duke was pleased with this arrangement, and he made
a similar one in his own apartments. As for Oranienbaum, which belonged
to the Grand Duke, we had, at my cost, everything we needed in my
private apartments. I procured all this at my own expense in order to
avoid all dispute and difficulty; for his Imperial Highness, although
very lavish where his own fancies were concerned, was not at all so in
anything that regarded me; and generally he was anything but liberal.
But as all I did in my own apartments and with my own purse served to
embellish his house, he was quite content with it.
During this summer Madame Tchoglokoff conceived such a special and real
affection for me, that on our return to the capital she could not do
without me, and was quite _ennuyée_ when I was not with her. The cause
of this affection arose from my not responding to the advances which it
had pleased her husband to make to me--a circumstance which gave me a
peculiar merit in the eyes of his wife. When we returned to the Winter
Palace, Madame Tchoglokoff invited me almost every evening to her rooms.
There were not many people there, but always more than in my room, where
I sat quite alone reading, except when the Grand Duke came in to walk up
and down at a rapid pace, talking about things which interested himself,
but which had no value in my eyes. These promenades would last one or
two hours, and were repeated several times a-day. I was obliged to walk
with him till my strength was quite exhausted, to listen with attention,
and to answer him, though, for the most part, what he said had neither
head nor tail; for he often gave the reins to his imagination. I
remember that, during one whole winter, he was taken up with a project
of building, near to Oranienbaum, a pleasure-house in the form of a
convent of Capuchins, where he and I and all his suite should be dressed
as Capuchins. This dress he thought charming and convenient. Every one
was to have a donkey, and, in his turn, take this donkey and fetch water
and bring provisions to the so-called convent. He used to laugh till he
was ready to drop at the idea of the admirable and amusing effects which
this invention was to produce. He made me draw a pencil-sketch of the
plan of this precious work, and every day I had to add or remove
something. However determined I was to comply with his humours, and bear
everything with patience, I frankly avow that I was very often worn out
with the annoyance of these visits, promenades, and conversations, which
were insipid beyond anything I have ever seen. When he was gone, the
most tiresome book appeared a delightful amusement.
Towards the end of autumn, the balls for the court and the public
recommenced, as did also the rage for splendour and refinement in
masquerade dresses. Count Zachar Czernicheff returned to St. Petersburg.
As, on the ground of old acquaintance, I always treated him very well,
it rested only with myself to give what interpretation I pleased to his
attentions this time. He began by telling me that I had grown much
handsomer. It was the first time in my life that anything of the kind
had been said to me. I did not take it ill. Nay, more; I was credulous
enough to believe that he spoke the truth. At every ball there was some
fresh remark of this kind. One day, the Princess Gagarine brought me a
device from him, and, on breaking it, I perceived that it had been
opened and gummed together again. The motto, as usual, was printed, but
it consisted of a couple of verses, very tender and full of sentiment.
After dinner, I had some devices brought to me. I looked for a motto
which might serve as an answer, without compromising myself. I found
one, put it into a device representing an orange, and gave it to the
Princess Gagarine, who delivered it to Count Czernicheff. Next morning
she brought me another from him; but this time I found a motto of some
lines, in his own hand. I answered it, and there we were in regular and
quite sentimental correspondence. At the next masquerade, while dancing
with him, he said he had a thousand things to tell me which he could not
trust to paper, nor put in a device, which the Princess Gagarine might
break in her pocket or lose on the way; and he entreated me to grant him
a moment's audience either in my chamber, or wherever I might deem
suitable. I told him that that was an utter impossibility, that my rooms
were inaccessible, and that it was also impossible for me to leave them.
He told me that he would, if necessary, disguise himself as a servant;
but I refused point-blank, and so the matter went no farther than this
secret correspondence by means of devices. At last the Princess Gagarine
began to suspect its character, scolded me for making use of her, and
would not receive any more of these missives.
1752.
Amid these occurrences the year 1751 came to a close, and 1752 began. At
the end of the Carnival, Count Czernicheff left to join his regiment. A
few days before his departure I required to be bled; it was on a
Saturday. The following Wednesday, M. Tchoglokoff invited me to his
island, at the mouth of the Neva. He had a house there, consisting of a
saloon in the centre and some chambers on the sides. Near this house he
had some slides prepared. On arriving, I found there the Count Roman
Voronzoff, who, on seeing me, said, "I have just the thing for you; I
have had an excellent little sledge made for the slides." As he had
often taken me before, I accepted his offer, and the sledge was at once
brought. In it was a kind of small fauteuil, on which I seated myself.
He placed himself behind me, and we began to descend; but about half-way
down the incline, the Count was no longer master of the sledge, and it
overturned. I fell, and the Count, who was heavy and clumsy, fell on me,
or rather on my left arm, in which I had been bled some four or five
days before. We got up, and walked towards one of the court sledges,
which was in waiting for those who descended to convey them back to the
point from which they had started, so that any who wished might
recommence the descent. While sitting in this sledge with the Princess
Gagarine, who, with Prince Ivan Czernicheff, had followed me, the
latter, together with Voronzoff, standing behind the sleigh, I felt a
sensation of warmth spreading over my left arm, the cause of which I
could not make out. I passed my right hand into the sleeve of my pelisse
to see what was the matter, and having withdrawn it, I found it covered
with blood. I told the Counts and the Princess that I thought my vein
had reopened. They made the sleigh move faster, and instead of going
again to the slides, we went to the house. There we found no one but a
butler. I took off my pelisse, the butler gave me some vinegar, and
Count Czernicheff performed the office of surgeon. We all agreed not to
say a word about this adventure. As soon as my arm was set to rights, we
returned to the slides. I danced the rest of the evening, then supped,
and we returned home very late, without any one having the least idea of
what had happened to me. However, the skin did not join smoothly for
nearly a month; but it got all right by degrees.
During Lent I had a violent altercation with Madame Tchoglokoff, the
cause of which was as follows: My mother had been for some time in
Paris. The eldest son of General Ivan Fedorovitch Gleboff, upon his
return from that capital, brought me, from her, two pieces of very rich
and very beautiful stuff. While looking at them in my dressing-room, in
the presence of Skourine, who unfolded them, I chanced to say that they
were so beautiful that I felt tempted to present them to the Empress;
and I really was watching an opportunity of speaking of them to her
Majesty, whom I saw but very rarely, and then, too, mostly in public. I
said nothing about them to Madame Tchoglokoff. It was a present I
reserved for myself to make. I forbade Skourine to mention to any one
what had fallen from my lips in his hearing. Skourine, however, went
instantly to Madame Tchoglokoff, and told her what I had said. A few
days afterwards, Madame Tchoglokoff came into my room and told me that
the Empress sent me her thanks for my stuffs; that she had kept one of
them and returned the other. I was thunderstruck on hearing this. I said
to her, "How is this, Madame Tchoglokoff?" Upon this she stated that she
had carried the stuffs to the Empress, having heard that I intended them
for her Majesty. For the moment I felt vexed beyond measure, more so
indeed than I ever remember to have been before. I stammered; I could
scarcely speak. However, I said that I had proposed to myself a treat in
presenting these things to the Empress myself, and that she had deprived
me of this pleasure by carrying them off without my knowledge, and
presenting them in that fashion to her Imperial Majesty; I reminded her
that she could not know my intentions, as I had never spoken of them to
her, or that if she was aware of them, it was only from the mouth of a
treacherous servant, who had betrayed his mistress, who daily loaded him
with kindness. Madame Tchoglokoff, who always had reasons of her own,
replied, and maintained that I ought never speak to the Empress myself
about anything; that she had signified to me the order of her Imperial
Majesty to this effect, and that my servants were in duty bound to
report to her all that I said; that, consequently, Skourine had only
done his duty, and she hers, in carrying, without my knowledge, to her
Majesty the stuffs I had destined for her, and that the whole matter was
quite in rule. I let her speak on, for rage stopped my utterance. At
last she went away. I then entered a small ante-chamber, where Skourine
generally remained in the morning, and where my clothes were kept, and
seeing him there, I gave him, with all my force, a well-aimed and heavy
box on the ear. I told him he was a traitor, and the most ungrateful of
men, for having dared to repeat to Madame Tchoglokoff what I had
forbidden him to speak about; that I had loaded him with kindnesses,
while he betrayed me even in such innocent words; that from that day
forward I would never give him anything more, but would get him
dismissed and well beaten. I asked him what he expected to gain by such
conduct, telling him that I should always remain what I was, while the
Tchoglokoffs, hated and detested by every one, would, in the end, get
themselves dismissed by the Empress herself, who most assuredly would
sooner or later discover their intense stupidity, and utter unfitness
for the position in which the intrigues of a wicked man had placed them;
that, if he chose, he might go and repeat to them all I had said; that
he could not injure me by so doing, while he would soon see what would
become of himself. The man fell at my feet crying bitterly, and begged
my pardon with a repentance which appeared to me sincere. I was touched
by it, and told him that his future conduct would show me what course I
must take with him, and that by his behaviour I would regulate my own.
He was an intelligent fellow, by no means deficient in character, and
one who never broke his word to me. On the contrary, I have had the best
proofs of his zeal and fidelity in the most difficult times. I
complained to every one I could of the trick Madame Tchoglokoff had
played me, in order that the matter might reach the Empress' ears. The
Empress, when she saw me, thanked me for my present, and I learned from
a third party, that she disapproved of the way in which Madame
Tchoglokoff had acted. And thus the matter ended.
After Easter we went to the Summer Palace. I had observed for some time
that the Chamberlain, Serge Soltikoff, was more assiduous than usual in
his attendance at court. He always came there in company with Leon
Narichkine, who amused every one by his originality, of which I have
already reported several traits. Serge Soltikoff was the aversion of the
Princess Gagarine, of whom I was very fond, and in whom I even reposed
confidence. Leon Narichkine was looked upon as a person of no sort of
consequence, but very original. Soltikoff insinuated himself as much as
possible into the good graces of the Tchoglokoffs. As these people were
neither amiable, nor clever, nor amusing, he must have had some secret
object in these attentions. Madame Tchoglokoff was at this time
pregnant, and frequently indisposed. As she pretended that I amused her
during the summer quite as much as in the winter, she often requested me
to visit her. Soltikoff, Leon Narichkine, the Princess Gagarine, and
some others, were generally at her apartments, whenever there was not a
concert at the Grand Duke's, or theatricals at court. The concerts were
very wearisome to M. Tchoglokoff, who always assisted at them; but
Soltikoff discovered a singular mode of keeping him occupied. I cannot
conceive how he contrived to excite in a man so dull, and so utterly
devoid of talent and imagination, a passion for versifying and composing
songs which had not even common sense. But having made this discovery,
whenever anyone wished to get rid of M. Tchoglokoff, it was only
necessary to ask him to make a new song. Then, with much _empressement_,
he would go and sit down in a corner of the room, generally near the
stove, and set to work upon his song--a business which took up the
evening. The song would be pronounced charming, and thus he was
continually encouraged to make new ones. Leon Narichkine used to set
them to music, and sing them with him; and while all this was going on,
we conversed without restraint. I once had a large book of these songs,
but I know not what has become of it.
During one of these concerts, Serge Soltikoff gave me to understand what
was the object of his assiduous attentions. I did not reply to him at
first. When he again returned to the subject, I asked him what it was he
wanted of me? Hereupon he drew a charming and passionate picture of the
happiness which he promised himself. I said to him, "But your wife, whom
you married for love only two years ago, and of whom you were supposed
to be passionately fond--and she, too, of you--what will she say to
this?" He replied that all was not gold that glitters, and that he was
paying dearly for a moment of infatuation. I did all I could to make him
change his mind--I really expected to succeed in this--I pitied him.
Unfortunately, I listened also. He was very handsome, and certainly had
not his equal at the Imperial court, still less at ours. He was not
wanting in mind, nor in that finish of accomplishments, manner, and
style which the great world gives, and especially a court. He was
twenty-six years old. Take him all in all, he was by birth, and by many
other qualities, a distinguished gentleman. As for his faults, he
managed to hide them. The greatest of all was a love of intrigue and a
want of principle. These were not unfolded to my eyes. I held out all
the spring, and a part of the autumn. I saw him almost every day, and
made no change in my conduct towards him. I was the same to him as I was
to all others, and never saw him but in the presence of the court, or of
a part of it. One day, to get rid of him, I made up my mind to tell him
that he was misdirecting his attentions. I added, "How do you know that
my heart is not engaged elsewhere?" This, however, instead of
discouraging him, only made his pursuit all the more ardent. In all this
there was no thought of the dear husband, for it was a known and
admitted fact, that he was not at all amiable, even to the objects with
whom he was in love; and he was always in love; in fact, he might be
said to pay court to every woman, except the one who bore the name of
his wife; she alone was excluded from all share of his attentions.
In the midst of all this, Tchoglokoff invited us to a hunting party on
his island, whither we went in a skiff, our horses being sent on before.
Immediately on our arrival I mounted my horse, and we went to find the
dogs. Soltikoff seized the moment when the rest were in pursuit of the
hares to approach me and speak of his favourite subject. I listened more
attentively than usual. He described to me the plan which he had
arranged for enshrouding, as he said, in profound mystery, the happiness
which might be enjoyed in such a case. I did not say a word. He took
advantage of my silence to persuade me that he loved me passionately,
and he begged that I would allow him to hope, at least, that he was not
wholly indifferent to me. I told him he might amuse himself with hoping
what he pleased, as I could not prevent his thoughts. Finally he drew
comparisons between himself and others at the court, and made me confess
that he was preferable to them. From that he concluded that he was
preferred. I laughed at all this, but I admitted that he was agreeable
to me. At the end of an hour and a-half's conversation, I desired him to
leave me, since so long a conversation might give rise to suspicion. He
said he would not go unless I told him that I consented. I answered,
"Yes, yes; but go away." He said, "Then it is settled," and put spurs to
his horse. I cried after him, "No, no;" but he repeated, "Yes, yes." And
thus we separated. On our return to the house, which was on the island,
we had supper, during which there sprung up such a heavy gale from the
sea, that the waves rose so high that they even reached the steps of the
house. In fact, the whole island was under water to the depth of several
feet. We were obliged to remain until the storm had abated, and the
waters retreated, which was not until between two and three in the
morning. During this time, Soltikoff told me that heaven itself had
favoured him that day, by enabling him to enjoy my presence for a longer
time, with many other things to the same effect. He thought himself
already quite happy. As for me, I was not at all so. A thousand
apprehensions troubled me, and I was unusually dull, and very much out
of conceit with myself. I had persuaded myself that I could easily
govern both his passions and my own, and I found that both tasks were
difficult, if not impossible.
Two days after this, Soltikoff informed me that one of the Grand Duke's
valets de chambre, Bressan, a Frenchman, had told him that his Imperial
Highness had said in his room, "Sergius Soltikoff and my wife deceive
Tchoglokoff, make him believe whatever they like, and then laugh at
him." To tell the truth, there was something of this kind, and the Grand
Duke had perceived it. I answered, by advising him to be more
circumspect for the future. Some days afterwards I caught a very bad
sore throat, which lasted more than three weeks, with a violent fever,
during which the Empress sent to me the Princess Kourakine, who was
about to be married to Prince Lobanoff. I was to dress her hair. For
this purpose she had to sit on my bed, in her court-dress and hooped
petticoats. I did my best; but Madame Tchoglokoff, seeing that it was
impossible for me to manage it, made her get off my bed, and finished
dressing her herself. I have never seen the lady since then.
The Grand Duke was at this period making love to Mademoiselle Martha
Isaevna Schafiroff, whom the Empress had recently placed with me, as
also her elder sister, Anna Isaevna. Serge Soltikoff, who was a devil
for intrigue, insinuated himself into the favour of these girls, in
order to learn anything the Grand Duke might say to them relative to
him. These young ladies were poor, rather silly, and very selfish, and,
in fact, they became wonderfully confidential in a very short time.