of Zorndorff, one of the most sanguinary of the century, had been fought
on the 14th of that month. The number of killed and wounded, on each
side, was calculated at upwards of 20,000. Our loss in officers was
considerable, and exceeded 1,200. This battle was announced to us as a
victory, but it was whispered that the loss was equal on both sides;
that for the space of three days neither army ventured to claim the
victory; that finally, on the third day, the King of Prussia, in his
camp, and the Count Fermor on the field of battle, had each caused the
_Te Deum_ to be sung. The vexation of the Empress and the consternation
of the city were extreme when they learned all the details of this
bloody day, in which so many people lost relatives, friends, or
acquaintances. For a long time all was sorrow; a great many generals
were slain or wounded or taken prisoners. At last, it was acknowledged,
that the conduct of Count Fermor was anything but soldierly and skilful.
He was recalled, and the command of the Russian forces in Prussia was
given to Count Peter Soltikoff. For this purpose he was summoned from
the Ukraine, where he commanded, and in the interim the command of the
army was given to General Froloff Bagreeff, but with secret instructions
to do nothing without the concurrence of the Lieutenant-Generals Count
Roumianzoff and Prince Alexander Galitzine, his brother-in-law. A charge
was brought, to the effect that Fermor, being at no great distance from
the field of battle, with a force of 10,000 men upon the heights,
whence he could hear the cannonade, might have rendered the action more
decisive, had he attacked the Prussian army in the rear while engaged
with ours. He neglected to do this, and when his brother-in-law, Prince
Galitzine, came to his camp after the battle, and detailed the butchery
that had taken place, he received him very ill, said many disagreeable
things to him, and refused to see him afterwards, treating him as a
coward, which Prince Galitzine by no means was, the entire army being
more convinced of his intrepidity than of that of Roumianzoff,
notwithstanding his present glory and victories. At the beginning of
September the Empress was at Zarskoe Selo, where, on the 8th of the
month, the day of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin, she went on foot
from the palace to the parish church to hear mass, the distance being
only a few steps towards the north from the palace-door to the church.
Scarcely had the service commenced, when, feeling unwell, she left the
church, and descended the little flight of steps which turns towards the
palace, and, on arriving at the re-entering angle of the side of the
church, she fell down insensible on the grass, in the midst of, or
rather surrounded by, a crowd of people who had come to hear mass from
all the neighbouring villages. None of her attendants had followed her
when she left the church; but being soon apprised of her condition, the
ladies of her suite, and her other intimate attendants, ran to her
assistance, and found her without consciousness or movement in the midst
of the crowd, who gazed upon her without daring to approach. The Empress
was tall and powerful, and could not fall down suddenly without doing
herself a good deal of injury by the mere fall. They covered her with a
white handkerchief, and went to fetch the physician and surgeon. The
latter arrived first, and instantly bled her, just as she lay on the
ground, and in the presence of all the crowd. But this did not bring her
to. The physician was a long time in coming, being himself ill, and
unable to walk. He was obliged to be carried in an arm-chair. The
physician was the late Condoijdij, a Greek by nation, and the surgeon,
Fouzadier, a French refugee. At last screens were brought from the
palace as well as a couch, on which she was placed, and by dint of care,
and the remedies applied, she began to revive a little; but, on opening
her eyes, she recognized no one, and asked, in a scarcely intelligible
manner, where she was. All this lasted above two hours, at the end of
which it was determined to carry her Majesty on the couch to the palace.
The consternation into which this event threw all who were attached to
the court may easily be imagined. The publicity of the affair added to
its unpleasantness. Hitherto the state of the Empress had been kept very
secret, but in this case the accident was public. The next morning I was
informed of the event at Oranienbaum by a note from Count Poniatowsky. I
immediately went and told the Grand Duke, who knew nothing of it;
because, generally speaking, every thing was carefully concealed from
us, and more especially all that concerned the Empress herself. Only
that it was customary, whenever we happened not to be in the same place
as her Majesty, to send every Sunday one of the gentlemen of our court
to make inquiries after her health. This we did not fail to do on the
following Sunday, and we learnt that for several days the Empress had
not recovered the free use of speech, and that even yet she articulated
with difficulty. It was asserted that during her swoon she had bitten
her tongue. All this gave reason for supposing that this weakness
partook more of the nature of convulsions than mere fainting.
At the end of September we returned to the capital, and as I began to
get large, I no longer appeared in public, believing that the period of
my confinement was much nearer than it really proved to be. This was a
source of annoyance to the Grand Duke, because, when I appeared in
public, he very often complained of indisposition, in order to be able
to remain in his own apartments, and, as the Empress also rarely
appeared, the burden of the reception days, the _fêtes_, and the balls
of the court devolved upon me, and when I could not be there, his
Imperial Highness was teased to be present, in order that some one might
represent her Majesty. He, therefore, began to be annoyed at my
pregnancy, and one day took it in his head to say, in his apartment,
before Leon Narichkine, and several others, "God knows where my wife
gets her pregnancies, I don't very well know whether this child is mine,
and whether I ought to take the responsibility of it." Leon Narichkine
came running to me with these words, fresh from the Duke's lips. I was
naturally enough alarmed at such a speech, and said to him, "How stupid
you all are. Go and ask him to swear that he has not slept with his
wife, and tell him if he will take this oath, you will go immediately
and give information of it to Alexander Schouvaloff as grand inquisitor
of the empire." Leon actually went to his Imperial Highness, and asked
him for this oath, but the answer he got was, "Go to the devil, and
don't talk to me any more about that." This speech of the Grand Duke,
made so indiscreetly, gave me great pain, and I saw from that moment
that three paths almost equally perilous presented themselves for my
choice: first, to share the fortunes of the Grand Duke, be they what
they might; secondly, to be exposed every moment to everything he chose
to do either for or against me; or, lastly, to take a path entirely
independent of all eventualities; to speak more plainly, I had to choose
the alternative of perishing with him, or by him, or to save myself, my
children, and perhaps the empire also, from the wreck of which all the
moral and physical qualities of this Prince made me foresee the danger.
This last choice appeared to me the safest. I resolved, therefore, to
the utmost of my power to continue to give him on all occasions the very
best advice I could for his benefit, but never to persist in this, as I
had hitherto done, so as to make him angry; to open his eyes to his true
interests on every opportunity that presented itself; and, during the
rest of the time, to maintain a gloomy silence; and, on the other hand,
to take care of my own interests with the public, so that in the time of
need they might see in me the saviour of the commonwealth. In the month
of October I was informed by the High Chancellor, Count Bestoujeff, that
the King of Poland had just sent Count Poniatowsky his letters of
recall. Count Bestoujeff had had a violent dispute upon this subject
with Count Brühl and the Cabinet of Saxony, and was annoyed that he had
not been consulted in the matter as heretofore. He learned at last that
the Vice-Chancellor, Count Voronzoff, and John Schouvaloff had, with the
assistance of Prasse, the resident minister of Saxony, secretly
manoeuvred the whole affair. This M. Prasse, moreover, often appeared
to be well informed of a number of secrets which it puzzled every one to
conjecture whence he had obtained them. Many years afterwards their
source was discovered. He carried on a love intrigue, though very
secretly and very discreetly, with the Vice-Chancellor's wife, the
Countess Anna Karlovna, whose maiden name was Scavronsky. This lady was
the intimate friend of the wife of Samarine, the master of the
ceremonies, and it was at the house of the latter that the Countess saw
M. Prasse. The Chancellor Bestoujeff had all the letters of recall
brought to him, and sent them back to Saxony under pretext of
informality.
In the night between the 8th and 9th of December, I began to feel the
pains of childbirth. I sent to inform the Grand Duke by Madame
Vladislava, and also Count Schouvaloff, that he might announce the fact
to her Imperial Majesty. In a short time the Grand Duke came into my
room, dressed in his Holstein uniform, booted and spurred, with his
scarf round his body, and an enormous sword at his side, having made an
elaborate toilet. It was about half-past two in the morning. Astonished
at his appearance, I inquired the reason of this grand dress. He replied
that it was only on an emergency that true friends could be discerned;
that in this garb he was ready to act as duty demanded; that the duty of
a Holstein officer was to defend, according to his oath, the ducal
palace against all its enemies, and that as I was ill he had hastened to
my assistance. One would have supposed him jesting; but not at all, he
was quite serious. I saw at once that he was intoxicated, and advised
him to go to bed, that the Empress when she came might not have the
double annoyance of seeing him in such a state, and armed _cap-a-pie_ in
the Holstein uniform, which I knew she detested. I had great difficulty
in getting him to leave; however, Madame Vladislava and myself finally
persuaded him, with the help of the midwife, who assured him that I
should not be delivered for some time yet. At length he went away, and
the Empress arrived. She asked where the Grand Duke was, and she was
informed that he had just quitted the room, and would not fail to
return. When she found that the pains abated, and that the midwife told
her I might not be confined for some hours yet, she returned to her
apartments, and I went to bed and slept till the next morning, when I
got up as usual, feeling however occasional pains, after which I
continued for hours together entirely free from them. Towards supper
time I felt hungry, and ordered some supper to be brought. The midwife
was sitting near me, and seeing me eat ravenously, she said, "Eat, eat:
this supper will bring you good luck." In fact, having finished my
supper, I rose from the table, and the moment I did so was seized with
such a pain, that I gave a loud scream. The midwife and Madame
Vladislava seized me under my arms, and placed me on the "bed of pain,"
and went to seek the Empress and the Grand Duke. Scarcely had they
arrived when I was delivered (between ten and eleven o'clock at night),
on the 9th of December, of a daughter, whom I begged the Empress to
allow me to name after her. But she decided that she should be named
after her eldest sister, Anne Petrovna, Duchess of Holstein, mother of
the Grand Duke. His Imperial Highness appeared much pleased at the birth
of this child; he made great rejoicings over it in his own apartments,
ordered rejoicings to be made in Holstein also, and received all the
compliments paid to him on the subject with great manifestations of
pleasure. On the sixth day the Empress stood godmother to the child, and
brought me an order on the cabinet for 60,000 roubles. A similar present
was sent to the Grand Duke, which added not a little to his
satisfaction. After the baptism the _fêtes_ commenced, which were very
magnificent, according to report. I saw none of them, but remained in my
bed, very delicate and quite alone, not a living soul to keep me
company; for no sooner was I delivered than the Empress not only carried
off the child to her own apartments as previously, but under the plea of
my requiring repose, I was left there and abandoned like any poor
wretch, no one entering my apartments to ask how I was, or even sending
to inquire. As on the former occasion, I had suffered a great deal from
this neglect. I had this time taken all possible precautions against
draughts, and the other inconveniences of the place; and as soon as I
was delivered I arose and went to my bed, and as no one dared to visit
me, unless secretly, I had also taken care to provide for this
contingency. My bed stood nearly in the middle of a rather long room,
the windows being on the right side of the bed. There was also a side
door, which opened into a kind of wardrobe, which served also as an
ante-chamber, and which was well barricaded with screens and trunks.
From the bed to this door I had placed an immense screen which concealed
the prettiest little boudoir I could devise, considering the locality
and the circumstances. In this boudoir were a couch, mirrors, moveable
tables, and some chairs. When the curtains of my bed on that side were
drawn, nothing could be seen; but when they were pulled aside, I could
see the boudoir, and those who happened to be in it. But any one
entering the room could only see the screens. If any one asked what was
behind the screen, the answer was, the commode; and this being within
the screen, no one was anxious to see it; or even if so, it could be
shown without getting into the boudoir, which the screen effectively
concealed.
1759.
On the 1st of January, 1759, the court festivities terminated with a
grand display of fireworks between the ball and the supper. As I still
kept my room, I did not appear at court. Before the fireworks were let
off, Count Peter Schouvaloff took it into his head to present himself at
my door, to show me the plan of them before they were let off. Madame
Vladislava told him I was asleep, but however she would go and see. It
was not true that I was asleep; I was merely in bed, and had my usual
little party, which then, as formerly, consisted of Mesdames Narichkine,
Siniavine, Ismaïloff, and Count Poniatowsky. The latter, since his
recall, had given out that he was ill, but came to visit me, and these
ladies loved me sufficiently to prefer my company to the balls and
_fêtes_. Madame Vladislava did not exactly know who was with me, but she
was a great deal too shrewd not to suspect that there was some one. I
had told her early that I should go to bed, as I felt weary; and then
she did not afterwards disturb me. Upon the arrival of Count
Schouvaloff, she came and knocked at my door. I drew the curtain on the
side of the screen, and told her to enter. She came in, and brought me
the message of Count Peter Schouvaloff, and I ordered her to admit him.
While she went to execute this order, my friends behind the screen were
bursting with laughter at the extreme absurdity of the scene--my being
about to receive Count Schouvaloff, who would be able to swear that he
had found me alone, and in bed, while there was only a curtain which
separated my gay little party from this most important personage, who
was at that time the oracle of the court, and possessed the confidence
of the Empress to a very high degree. In, therefore, he came, and
brought me his plan for the fireworks. He was at the time Grand Master
of Artillery. I began by making apologies for keeping him waiting--only
having, I said, just awoke; I rubbed my eyes, saying that I was still
quite sleepy. I told a story, not to make Madame Vladislava out a
story-teller. After this, I entered into a rather long conversation with
him, so much so even, that he appeared anxious to leave, in order not to
keep the Empress waiting for the commencement of the fireworks. I then
dismissed him. He took his departure, and I again drew aside the
curtain. My company, from laughing so heartily, was beginning to feel
hungry and thirsty. "Very well," I said, "you shall have something to
eat and drink; it is only fair that while you are kind enough to give me
your company, you should not die of hunger or thirst." I closed the
curtain and rang; Madame Vladislava presented herself. I told her that I
was starving, and desired her to bring me some supper. I said I must
have at least six good dishes. When it was ready it was brought to me,
and I had it placed by the side of my bed, and told the servant not to
wait. Then my friends from behind the screen came out like so many
famished creatures to eat whatever they could find; the fun of the thing
increased their appetite. In fact, this evening was one of the merriest
I have ever passed in the whole course of my life. When the supper had
been devoured, I had the remains cleared away in the same manner as it
had been served. I fancy however the servants were a little surprised at
my appetite. About the time the court supper had concluded, my party
retired also very well pleased with their evening. Count Poniatowsky,
when going out, always wore a wig of fair hair and a cloak, and to the
question of the sentinels, "Who goes there?" was accustomed to answer
that he was a musician to the Grand Duke. This wig made us laugh a good
deal that day.
This time my churching, after the six weeks, took place in the Empress'
chapel; but no one assisted at it except Alexander Schouvaloff. Towards
the end of the Carnival, and when all the _fêtes_ of the city were
finished, three weddings took place at court: that of Count Alexander
Strogonoff with the Countess Anne Voronzoff, daughter of the
Vice-Chancellor, was the first; and, two days after, that of Leon
Narichkine with Mademoiselle Zakrefsky; and, on the same day, also, that
of Count Boutourline with the Countess Marie Voronzoff. These three
young ladies were Maids of Honour to the Empress. At the celebration of
these weddings, a bet was made at court between the Hetman Count
Rasoumowsky and the Minister of Denmark, Count d'Osten, as to which of
the three newly-made husbands should be first cuckolded, and it turned
out that those who had bet that it would be Strogonoff, whose bride
appeared the plainest of the three, and at the time the most innocent
and childlike, won the wager.
The evening preceding the day on which Leon Narichkine and Count
Boutourline were married, was an unfortunate one. For a long time, it
had been whispered that the credit of the Grand Chancellor was wavering,
and that his enemies were getting the upper hand of him. He had lost his
friend, General Apraxine. Count Rasoumowsky, the elder, had for a long
time supported him; but ever since the influence of the Schouvaloffs had
preponderated, he scarcely meddled with anything, except, when occasion
offered, to ask for some trifling favour for his friends or connections.
The hatred of Schouvaloff and Voronzoff against the Chancellor was still
further increased by the efforts of the Ambassadors of Austria and
France, Count Esterhazy, and Marshal de l'Hôpital. The latter thought
Count Bestoujeff more disposed for an alliance with England than with
France, and the Ambassador of Austria caballed against him, because,
while he wished Russia should adhere to her treaty of alliance with the
Court of Vienna, and give aid to Maria Theresa, he did not wish that she
should take a leading part in a war against the King of Prussia. The
views of Count Bestoujeff were those of a patriot, and he was not easily
led; whereas the Messrs. Voronzoff and John Schouvaloff were the tools
of the two ambassadors to such an extent that a fortnight before the
Grand Chancellor's disgrace, the Marquis de l'Hôpital, Ambassador of
France, went to Count Voronzoff, despatch in hand, and said to him,
"Monsieur le Comte, here is the despatch of my court, which I have just
received, and in which it is said that if, within a fortnight, the Grand
Chancellor is not displaced by you, I am to address myself to him, and
treat with no one but him." Then the Vice-Chancellor took fire, and went
to John Schouvaloff, and they represented to the Empress that her glory
was suffering from the credit which Count Bestoujeff enjoyed throughout
Europe. She ordered that a conference should be held that very evening,
and that the Grand Chancellor should be summoned to it. The latter sent
word that he was ill. This illness was represented as a disobedience,
and word was sent to him to come without delay. He went, and, on his
arrival, he was arrested in full conference. He was deprived of his
offices, his titles, and his orders, without any one being able to say
for what crimes or delinquencies; the first personage of the empire was
thus despoiled. He was sent back to his house a prisoner. As all this
was pre-arranged, a company of grenadiers of the guard was called out.
These, as they passed along the Moïka, where the Counts Alexander and
Peter Schouvaloff lived, said to one another, "Thank God, we are going
to arrest those cursed Schouvaloffs, who do nothing but invent
monopolies." But when the soldiers found that it was Count Bestoujeff
whom they had to arrest, they gave evident signs of displeasure, saying,
"It is not this man, it is the others, who trample on the people."
Though Count Bestoujeff had been arrested in the very palace of which we
occupied a wing, and not very far from our apartments, we heard nothing
of it that evening, so careful were they to keep from us all that was
going on. The next day (Sunday) I received, on waking, a note from Leon
Narichkine, which the Count Poniatowsky forwarded to me by this channel,
which had long since become of very questionable security. It commenced
with these words:--"Man is never without resources. I employ this means
of informing you, that last night, Count Bestoujeff was arrested and
deprived of his offices and dignities, and with him your jeweller
Bernardi, Teleguine, and Adadouroff." I was thunderstruck upon reading
these lines, and, having read them, I felt that I must by no means
flatter myself that this affair did not affect me more nearly than yet
appeared. Now, to make this understood, a few comments are necessary.
Bernardi was an Italian jeweller, not without talent, and whose business
gave him the _entrée_ to every house. I think that there was scarcely
one which did not owe him something, or to which he had not rendered
some little service or other, as he went continually to and fro
everywhere. He was also intrusted sometimes with commissions from one to
the other. A note sent through Bernardi always reached its destination
sooner and more safely than if sent by the servants. Now the arrest of
Bernardi interested the whole city, since he executed commissions for
everybody, and for me among the rest. Teleguine was the former Adjutant
of the Master of the Hounds, Count Rasoumowsky, who had had the
guardianship of Beketoff. He had remained attached to the house of
Rasoumowsky. He had also become the friend of Count Poniatowsky. He was
a man of integrity, and one who could be relied on; and when once his
affection was gained it was not easily lost. He had always shown a
predilection for me, and zeal in my interest. Adadouroff had been
formerly my master in the Russian language, and had remained much
attached to me. It was I who had recommended him to Count Bestoujeff,
who, within the last two or three years only, had begun to place
confidence in him. Formerly, he did not like him, because he held to the
party of the Procurator-General, Prince Nikita Youriewitch Troubetskoy,
the enemy of Bestoujeff.