court footmen became insane, and violently so. The Empress gave orders
that her chief physician, Boërhave, should take charge of him. He was
placed in a chamber close to that of Boërhave, who resided at court.
Besides this case, it also happened that several other persons went out
of their mind this year. In proportion as these cases came under the
notice of the Empress, she had the persons brought to court and lodged
near Boërhave, so that they formed a sort of mad-house at court. I
remember that the principal persons among them was Tchedajeff, a major
of the Semenofsky guards; a Lieutenant-Colonel Lintrum; a Major
Tchoglokoff; a monk of the convent of Voskresensky, who emasculated
himself with a razor, and several others. The madness of Tchedajeff
consisted in his believing Nadir-Schah, otherwise Thamas-Kuli-Khan, the
usurper and tyrant of Persia, to be God. When the physicians could not
succeed in curing him of his delusion, they placed him in the hands of
the priests. These persuaded the Empress to have him exorcised. She
herself assisted at the ceremony; but Tchedajeff remained, to all
appearance, as mad as before. There were, however, people who had doubts
of his lunacy, as he was quite reasonable on every other point, but that
of Nadir-Schah; his friends even consulted him about their affairs, and
he gave them very sensible advice. Those who did not believe him mad,
gave as a reason for his affectation of madness his having had some
trouble on his hands, from which he extricated himself by this ruse. At
the beginning of the Empress' reign he had been supervisor of taxes, had
been accused of extortion, and was threatened with a trial, in dread of
which he took up this fancy, which extricated him from the difficulty.
In the middle of August, 1753, we returned to the country. To keep the
5th of September, the Feast of the Empress, she went to the convent of
Voskresensky. Whilst there, the church was struck with lightning;
fortunately her Imperial Majesty was in a chapel at the side of the
great church, and only learnt the fact through the terror of the
courtiers; however, there was no one either hurt or killed by the
accident. A little while afterwards she returned to Moscow, whither we
also repaired from Liberitza. Upon our return to the city, we saw the
Princess of Courland kiss the Empress' hand in public for the permission
which had been given her to marry Prince George Hovansky. She had
quarrelled with the object of her first engagement, Peter Soltikoff, who
immediately afterwards married a Princess Sonzoff. On the 1st of
November of this year, at three o'clock in the afternoon, I was in
Madame Tchoglokoff's room, when her husband, Serge Soltikoff, Leon
Narichkine, and several other gentlemen of the court, left us to go to
the apartments of the Chamberlain Schouvaloff, to congratulate him on
his birthday, which fell on that day. Madame Tchoglokoff, the Princess
Gagarine, and I were talking together, when, after hearing some noise in
a little chapel close by, a couple of these gentlemen ran in, telling us
that they had been prevented from passing through the halls of the
chateau, as it was on fire. I immediately went to my room, and, as I
passed through an ante-chamber, I saw that the balustrade at the corner
of the great hall was on fire. It was about twenty paces from our wing.
On entering my apartments, I found them already filled with soldiers and
servants, who were removing the furniture, and carrying off everything
they could. Madame Tchoglokoff followed me, and as there was nothing
more to be done but wait till it caught fire, we left. At the gate we
found the carriage of the chapel-master, Araga, who had come to attend a
concert given by the Grand Duke, whom I had already informed of the
accident. We entered the carriage: the streets were covered with mud, in
consequence of the previous heavy rains. Here we had a view of the fire
and of the way in which the people were carrying out the furniture from
every part of the house. I here saw a strange sight, viz: the
astonishing number of rats and mice which were descending the staircase
in file without over-much hurrying themselves. The want of engines
rendered it impossible to save this immense wooden structure, and,
besides, the few that were there were kept under the very staircase
which was on fire; this, too, occupied very nearly the centre of the
surrounding buildings, which covered a space of some two or three
verstes in circumference. The heat became so great that we could not
bear it, so that we were obliged to have the carriage driven some few
hundred paces outwards. At last M. Tchoglokoff and the Grand Duke came
and told us that the Empress was going to Pokrovsky House, and had given
orders that we should go to M. Tchoglokoff's, which formed the right
hand corner of the main street of the Sloboda. We at once repaired
thither. The house had a hall in the centre and four chambers on each
side. It was hardly possible to be more uncomfortable than we were here;
the wind blew in every direction, the windows and doors were all half
rotten, and the planks of the floor open to the breadth of three or four
inches; besides this, there was vermin everywhere. Here resided the
children and servants of M. Tchoglokoff. As we entered they were sent
out, and we were lodged in this horrible house, which was almost bare of
furniture.
On the day after we took up our abode here, I saw what a Kalmuck's nose
could hold. The little girl whom I kept near me, on my waking, pointed
to her nose, and said, "I have a nut here." I felt her nose, but could
not find anything. All the morning, however, she kept repeating, over
and over again, that she had a nut in her nose. She was a child of from
four to five years old. No one could tell what she meant by a nut in
her nose. But about noon, as she was running along, she fell down, and
struck against the table. This made her cry; while crying, she took out
her pocket-handkerchief and wiped her nose, and in doing so the nut fell
from it. I saw this myself, and could then understand how a nut, which
could not be held in any European nose without being perceived, might be
held in the hollow of a Kalmuck nose, which is placed within the head
between two immense cheeks.
Our clothes, and everything else, had been left in the mud in front of
the burning palace, and were brought to us during the night and
following day. What I most regretted was my books. I was at this time
just finishing the fourth volume of Bayle's Dictionary: I had spent two
years in reading it, and got through a volume every six months. From
this one may judge of the solitude in which my life was passed. At last
my books were brought to me. My clothes were found, those of the
Countess Schouvaloff, etc. Madame Vladislava showed me, as a curiosity,
this lady's petticoats. They were lined behind with leather, as she was
unable to retain her water--an infirmity which had afflicted her ever
since her first accouchement. All her petticoats were impregnated with
the smell, and I sent them back in all haste to the owner. In this fire
the Empress lost all that had been brought to Moscow of her immense
wardrobe. She did me the honour of telling me that she had lost 4,000
dresses, and that of all these the only one that she regretted was the
one made from the piece of stuff which I had received from my mother.
She also lost, on this occasion, several other valuables; amongst them a
bowl covered with engraved stones, which Count Roumianzoff had purchased
at Constantinople, and for which he had paid 8,000 ducats. All those
effects had been placed in a wardrobe over the hall which had caught
fire. This hall served as a vestibule to the grand hall of the palace.
At ten o'clock in the morning, the men whose duty it was to light the
stoves had come to heat this entrance-hall. After putting the wood into
the stove, they lighted it as usual. This done, the room became filled
with smoke; they thought that it escaped by some imperceptible holes in
the stove, and set to work to cover with clay the interstices of the
tiles. The smoke increasing, they tried to find some chinks in the
stove, but not finding any, they perceived that the outlet must be
between the partitions of the apartment. These partitions were only of
wood. They got water, and put out the fire in the stove, but the smoke
still increased, and made its way into the ante-chamber, where there was
a sentinel of the horse-guards. The latter, expecting to be suffocated,
and not daring to move from his post, broke a pane of glass, and began
to cry out; but no one coming to his assistance, nor hearing him, he
fired his musket through the window. The report was heard by the main
guard, which was posted opposite the palace. They ran to him, and on
coming in, found the place filled with a dense smoke, out of which they
withdrew the sentinel. The stove heaters were put under arrest. They had
hoped to extinguish the fire, or at least prevent the smoke from
increasing without being obliged to give any alarm; and they had been
hard at work with this view for five hours.
This fire gave rise to a discovery on the part of M. Tchoglokoff. The
Grand Duke had in his apartments several very large chests of drawers.
As they were being carried out, some of the drawers, being either open
or badly fastened, disclosed to the spectators what they were filled
with. Who would have thought it? The drawers contained nothing but a
great quantity of bottles of wine and strong liquors. They served his
Imperial Highness for a cellar. Tchoglokoff spoke to me on the matter,
and I told him I was quite ignorant of the circumstance, which was the
truth; I knew nothing of it, but I was a frequent, indeed, almost a
daily witness of the Grand Duke's drunkenness.
After the fire we remained in Tchoglokoff's house for nearly six weeks.
While residing here, we often had to pass in front of a house, situated
in a garden near the Soltikoff Bridge. It belonged to the Empress, and
was called the Bishop's House, because she had bought it of a bishop.
The idea occurred to us of asking her Majesty, unknown to the
Tchoglokoffs, to allow us to occupy it, for it appeared to us, and we
were also told that it was, more habitable than the one we were in. We
received orders to go and take up our abode in the Bishop's House. It
was a very old wooden house, from which there was no view, but it was
built on stone vaults, and by this means was higher than the one we had
just quitted, which had only a ground floor. The stoves were so old,
that when lighted, one could see the fire through the furnace, so
numerous were the chinks and cracks, while the rooms were filled with
smoke. We all had headaches and sore eyes. In fact, we ran the risk of
being burnt alive in this house. There was only one wooden staircase,
and the windows were very high. The place actually did catch fire two or
three times while we were there, but we succeeded in extinguishing the
flames. I caught there a bad sore throat, with a great deal of fever.
The day I fell ill, M. de Breithardt, who had returned to Russia on the
part of the Austrian court, was to sup with us, previously to taking
leave. He found me with red and swollen eyes, and thought I had been
crying: nor was he mistaken: ennui, indisposition, and the physical and
moral discomforts of my position had given me much hypochondria. During
the whole day, which I passed with Madame Tchoglokoff, waiting for those
who never came, she kept saying every moment, "See how they desert us."
Her husband had dined out, and taken everybody with him. In spite of all
the promises which Serge Soltikoff had made us to steal away from this
dinner party, he only returned with M. Tchoglokoff. All this put me in a
very bad humour. At last, some days afterwards, we were allowed to go to
Liberitza. Here we thought ourselves in paradise; the house was quite
new, and tolerably well fitted up. We danced every evening, and all our
court was collected there. At one of these balls we saw the Grand Duke
occupied a long while in whispering to M. Tchoglokoff, who,
subsequently, appeared vexed, absent, and more close and scowling than
usual. Serge Soltikoff seeing this, and finding that Tchoglokoff treated
him with great coolness, went and sat down by the side of Mademoiselle
Martha Schafiroff, and tried to discover what could be the meaning of
this unusual intimacy between the Grand Duke and M. Tchoglokoff. She
told him that she did not know, but that the Grand Duke had on several
occasions said to her, "Serge Soltikoff and my wife deceive Tchoglokoff
in the most unheard-of way. He is in love with the Grand Duchess; but
she cannot endure him: Soltikoff is the confidant of Tchoglokoff, and
makes him believe that he is working for him with my wife, while instead
of that he is working for himself with her. She can very well endure
Soltikoff, for he is amusing: she makes use of him to manage Tchoglokoff
just as she pleases, and, in reality, she laughs at them both. I must
undeceive that poor devil Tchoglokoff, who excites my pity. I must tell
him the truth, and then he will see who is his true friend--my wife or
I." As soon as Soltikoff became aware of this dangerous dialogue, and of
his delicate position in consequence, he repeated it to me, and then
went and seated himself by the side of Tchoglokoff, and asked him what
was the matter with him. The latter at first was unwilling to enter into
any explanation, and merely sighed; then he began uttering jeremiads on
the difficulty of finding faithful friends. At last Soltikoff turned and
twisted him in so many different directions, that he drew from him an
avowal of the conversation which he had just had with the Grand Duke. No
one certainly could have formed any idea of what had passed between
them, without being told of it. The Grand Duke began by making great
protestations of friendship to Tchoglokoff, saying that it was only in
the most important circumstances of life that it was possible to
distinguish true friends from false; that to show the sincerity of his
own friendship, he was going to give him a very emphatic proof of his
frankness; that he knew, beyond doubt, that he was in love with me; that
he did not impute it to him as a crime that I should appear agreeable to
him, for that no one was master of his own heart; but that,
nevertheless, he ought to apprise him that he had made a bad choice of
confidants, and in his simplicity believed Serge Soltikoff to be his
friend, and working in his interest with me, whereas he was only working
for himself, and he suspected he was his rival; that, as for me, I
laughed at them both, but if M. Tchoglokoff would follow his advice and
trust in him then he would see that he was his only and true friend. M.
Tchoglokoff gave the Grand Duke many thanks for his friendship, and his
proffers of friendship; but in reality he considered all the rest as
mere chimeras and delusions on his part.
It may easily be believed that, in any case, he did not much wish for a
confidant who, both by his rank and character, was as little to be
trusted as he was able to be useful. This matter being once stated,
Soltikoff had but little trouble in restoring tranquillity to
Tchoglokoff's mind, for he was not in the habit of attaching much
importance nor paying much attention to the discourses of a person so
devoid of judgment, and so generally known to be so. When I learnt all
this, I must confess I was extremely indignant with the Grand Duke, and,
to prevent his returning to the subject, I told him that I was not
ignorant of what had passed between him and Tchoglokoff. He blushed,
said nothing, went off, sulked, and so the matter ended.
On returning to Moscow, we left the Bishop's House for apartments in
what was called the Empress' Summer House, which had not been burnt. The
Empress had had new apartments constructed in the space of six weeks.
For this purpose beams had been transported from Perova House, from
Count Hendrikoff's, and from the dwelling of the Princes of Georgia. At
last she took possession of these rooms about the beginning of the new
year.
1754.
The Empress kept the new-year's day of 1754 in this palace, and the
Grand Duke and I had the honour of dining with her in public on the
throne. At table, her majesty seemed very lively and talkative. Around
the throne, tables were laid for several hundred persons of the highest
rank. At dinner the Empress asked who was that thin and ugly woman, with
a crane's neck, whom she saw seated there (pointing to the place); she
was told it was Mademoiselle Martha Schafiroff. She burst into a laugh,
and, turning to me, remarked that this reminded her of a Russian
proverb, which said, "A long neck is only good for hanging." I could not
but smile at the point of this imperial sarcasm, which did not fall
unheeded, for the courtiers passed it on from mouth to mouth, so that on
rising from table, I found several persons who already knew of it.
Whether the Grand Duke heard it, I know not, but at all events he did
not allude to it, and I took care not to mention it to him.
Never was a year more fertile in fires than that of 1753-54. I have
several times seen, from the windows of my apartments in the Summer
Palace, two, three, four, and even five fires at once in different parts
of Moscow. During the Carnival, the Empress gave orders for several
balls and masquerades to be given in her apartments, at one of which I
saw her engaged in a long conversation with the wife of General
Matiouchkine. This lady was unwilling that her son should marry the
Princess Gagarine. But the Empress persuaded her, and the Princess
Gagarine, who numbered a good thirty years, had permission to marry M.
Dmitri Matiouchkine. She was much pleased at this, and so was I. It was
a marriage of inclination. Matiouchkine was at this time very handsome.
Madame Tchoglokoff did not come with us to our summer apartments. Under
different pretexts she remained, with her children, in her own house,
which was very near the court. But the truth is, that, virtuous and
loving wife as she was, she had conceived a passion for Prince Peter
Repnine, and a marked aversion for her husband. She thought she could
not be happy without a confidant, and I appeared to her the most
trustworthy person. She showed me all the letters she received from her
lover. I kept her secret faithfully, with scrupulous exactitude and
prudence. Her interviews with the Prince were very secret; yet in spite
of this the husband had some suspicions. An officer of the horse-guards
named Kaminine, had given rise to them. This man was jealousy and
suspicion personified: it was his nature. He was an old friend of
Tchoglokoff. The latter opened his mind to Serge Soltikoff, who
endeavoured to tranquillize him. I was careful not to tell Soltikoff
anything I knew, for fear of some involuntary indiscretion on his part.
At last the husband also sounded me a little. I pretended ignorance and
astonishment, and held my tongue.
In the month of February I had some signs of pregnancy. On Easter
Sunday, during mass, Tchoglokoff fell ill of the dry cholic; they gave
him various remedies, but his disease only grew worse. During Easter
week, the Grand Duke, with the gentlemen of our court, went out riding.
Serge Soltikoff was of the number. I remained at home, for they were
afraid to let me go out in my present condition, especially as I had
twice miscarried. I was alone in my room when M. Tchoglokoff sent me a
request to come to him. I went, and found him in bed. He made a thousand
complaints of his wife; told me she saw Prince Repnine; that he went to
her house on foot; that, during the Carnival, he had gone there, one
courtball day, dressed as a harlequin; that Kaminine had had him
followed; in short, God only knows all the details he gave me.
Just as he was most excited, his wife arrived; whereupon he began, in my
presence, to load her with reproaches, telling her that she deserted him
in his sickness. They were both very suspicious and narrow-minded. I was
nearly frightened to death lest his wife should suspect that it was I
who had betrayed her, from the mass of details which he then went into
relative to her interviews. His wife, on the other hand, told him that
it was not strange if she punished him for his conduct towards her; that
neither he, nor any one else, could reproach her with having ever until
now failed in her duty towards him in any respect; and she ended with
saying that it ill became him to complain. Both appealed continually to
me as a witness of what they said. I held my tongue, fearing to offend
the one or the other, or compromise myself: my face was burning from
apprehension. I was alone with them. When the quarrel was at its
highest, Madame Vladislava came in to tell me that the Empress had just
entered my room. I ran back immediately. Madame Tchoglokoff left at the
same time, but, instead of following me, she stopped in a corridor,
where there was a staircase leading into the garden, and there, as I was
afterwards told, she sat down. As for myself, I reached my room quite
out of breath, and found the Empress there. As she saw that I was out of
breath and rather red, she asked where I had been. I told her that I was
just come from the apartments of M. Tchoglokoff, who was ill, and that I
had run in order to get back as quickly as possible, having been
informed that she had condescended to come to my rooms. She did not ask
me any more questions, but seemed to me to be dwelling upon what I had
said, as if it appeared strange to her. Nevertheless, she continued
speaking to me. She did not ask where the Grand Duke was, for she knew
he had gone out. Neither he nor I, during the whole of her reign, dared
to go out in the city or leave the house, without first sending to ask
her permission. Madame Vladislava was in the room: the Empress addressed
her several times, then spoke to me, and always of indifferent matters:
finally, after a visit of nearly half an hour, she went away, saying
that, in consequence of my pregnancy, she would dispense with my
appearing on the 21st and 25th of April. I was surprised that Madame
Tchoglokoff had not followed. When the Empress had gone, I asked Madame
Vladislava what had become of her. She informed me that she had sat down
on the stairs, and burst into tears. Upon the return of the Grand Duke,
I recounted to Serge Soltikoff what had occurred during their absence;
how Tchoglokoff had sent for me; my alarm at what had been said between
the husband and wife, and the visit which the Empress had paid me. His
answer was: "If that be the case, I am of opinion that the Empress must
have come to see what you do in the absence of your husband; and, in
order that it may be seen that you are perfectly alone, both in your own
apartments and in those of the Tchoglokoffs, I will be off, and take all
my comrades to the house of Ivan Schouvaloff, just as we are,
bespattered with mud up to our eyes." And, in fact, when the Grand Duke
retired, he went off with all those who had been riding with his
Imperial Highness to Ivan Schouvaloff, who had apartments at the court.
When they arrived there, Schouvaloff asked them questions about their
ride, and Soltikoff told me afterwards that, from these questions, it
seemed to him that he had been correct in his inference.
From this day the illness of Tchoglokoff grew worse and worse. On the
21st of April--my birth-day--the physicians pronounced him beyond hope
of recovery. The Empress was informed of this, and gave orders (as she
was accustomed to do) that he should be carried to his own house, in
order that he might not die at court, for she was afraid of the dead. I
was very much grieved on learning his condition. He died at the very
time when, after many years of trouble and pain, we had succeeded in
rendering him not only less ill-natured and mischievous, but even
tractable, and when, by dint of studying his character, we had acquired
the power of managing him as we pleased. As for his wife, she at this
time loved me sincerely, and, from a harsh and spiteful Argus, had
become a firm and attached friend. Tchoglokoff, after his removal to his
own house, lived until the afternoon of the 25th of April, the day of
the Empress' coronation, when he died. I was immediately informed of the
event, as I kept constantly sending to his house. I was truly sorry for
him, and wept a good deal. His wife, too, was confined to her bed during
the last days of her husband's illness; he was at one side of the house,
she in the other. Serge Soltikoff and Leon Narichkine happened to be in
her room at the moment of her husband's death; the windows being open, a
bird flew into the room, and alighted on the cornice of the ceiling,
right opposite to Madame Tchoglokoff's bed. Upon seeing this, she said,
"I am certain that my husband has just breathed his last; send and ask
how he is." She was informed that he was really dead. She said that that
bird was the soul of her husband. They tried to prove to her that the
bird was an ordinary bird; but then it could not be found. They said it
had flown away, but as no one had seen it, she remained convinced that
it was the soul of her husband who had come to find her.