After the perusal of the note, and the reflections which I have just

made, a crowd of ideas, one more disagreeable than another, presented

themselves to my mind. With the iron in my soul, so to speak, I dressed,

and went to mass, where it seemed to me that the greater part of those I

saw had faces as long as my own. No one made any remark to me during the

day; it was just as if every one was in total ignorance of what had

happened. I was silent also. The Grand Duke, who had never liked Count

Bestoujeff, appeared to be rather gay on this occasion, yet behaved

without affectation, though he rather kept away from me a good deal. In

the evening I was obliged to go to the wedding; I changed my dress, was

present at the benediction of the marriages of Count Boutourline and

Leon Narichkine, at the ball, and at the supper, during which I

approached the Marshal of the wedding, Prince Nikita Troubetskoy, and,

under pretence of examining the ribbons of his marshal's baton, I

whispered to him, "What do all these fine doings mean? Have you found

more crimes than criminals, or more criminals than crimes?" To which he

replied--"We have done what we were ordered; but as for crimes, they are

still to be discovered. Thus far, the search has not been successful."

Having finished with him, I approached Marshal Boutourline, who said to

me--"Bestoujeff is arrested, but we have yet to learn why he is so."

Thus spoke the two commissioners appointed by the Empress to investigate

the causes that had led to his arrest by Count Alexander Schouvaloff. I

also perceived Stambke at the ball, but at a distance, and I saw that

his countenance wore an expression of suffering and of despondency. The

Empress was not present at either of these two marriages, neither in

church nor at the feast. The next day, Stambke came to my apartments,

and told me that he had just received a note from Count Bestoujeff,

which begged that he would inform me that I need be under no

apprehension concerning what I knew; that he had had time to burn

everything, and that he would communicate to him (Stambke), by the same

channel, the interrogatories which might be put to him. I asked what

that channel was? He told me that it was by a horn-player in the Count's

service, who had brought him the note, and that it had been arranged,

that for the future, any communications it might be desirable to make

should be placed in a particular spot, among some bricks, not far from

the Count's house. I told Stambke to take care that this dangerous

correspondence was not discovered, though he appeared to be suffering

great anxiety himself. However, he and Count Poniatowsky still continued

it. As soon as Stambke had left, I called Madame Vladislava, and told

her to go to her brother-in-law, Pougowoschnikoff, and give him the note

I was writing to him. It contained only these words:--"You have nothing

to fear; there has been time to burn all." This tranquillized him; for,

it appears, that ever since the arrest of the High Chancellor, he had

been more dead than alive. This it is which occasioned his anxiety, and

what the Count Bestoujeff had had time to destroy.

The weak state of the Empress' health, and the convulsive fits to which

she was subject, very naturally made all eyes turn to the future. Count

Bestoujeff, both from his position and abilities, was certainly not one

of the last to do so. He knew well the antipathy that had long been

excited against him in the mind of the Grand Duke. He was also well

aware of the feeble capacity of this Prince, born heir to so many

crowns. It was only natural that this statesman, like every one else,

should wish to maintain himself in his position. For several years past

he had seen me laying aside my prejudices against him; perhaps, also, he

regarded me personally as the only one upon whom at that time the hopes

of the public could rest, in the event of the Empress' death.

These and such like reflections had induced him to form the plan that,

on the decease of the Empress, the Grand Duke should be proclaimed

Emperor of right, but that at the same time I should be declared a

participator with him in the administration; that all existing offices

should be continued, and that, for himself, he should receive the

lieutenant-colonelcy of the four regiments of guards, and the Presidency

of the three Colleges of the Empire, of that of foreign affairs, of War,

and of the Admiralty. His pretensions were consequently excessive. He

had forwarded me, through Count Poniatowsky, the draught of this

project, written by the hand of Pougowoschnikoff. I had agreed with the

former that I should thank him verbally for his good intentions towards

me, but that I regarded the plan as difficult of execution. He had had

this project written and re-written several times, had altered,

amplified, retrenched, and appeared to be quite absorbed by it. To speak

the truth, I looked upon it as the effect of mere dotage, and as a bait

which the old man was throwing out in order to obtain a firmer hold on

my friendship; but I did not catch at this bait, because I regarded it

as prejudicial to the Empire, that every quarrel between my husband (who

did not love me) and myself should convulse the state; but as the

occasion for such a course did not yet exist, I did not wish to oppose

an old man who, when once he took a thing into his head, was self-willed

and immovable. This, then, was the project which he had found time to

destroy, and concerning which he had sent me word, in order that I might

tranquillize those who had been privy to it.

In the mean time, my valet de chambre, Skourine, came to tell me that

the captain who guarded Count Bestoujeff was a man who had always been

his friend, and who dined with him every Sunday, when he left court and

went home. I said that if this were the case, and if he could be relied

on, he should endeavour to sound him, and see if he would allow any

communication with the prisoner. This had become the more necessary as

Count Bestoujeff had communicated to Stambke, by the mode already

mentioned, that he wished Bernardi to be told from him to speak the

simple truth when interrogated, and to let him know what were the

questions asked. When I perceived that Skourine willingly undertook to

discover some means of communicating with Count Bestoujeff, I told him

also to try and open some means of communication with Bernardi as well,

and see if he could not gain over the sergeant or some soldier who kept

guard in his quarter. On the evening of the same day, Skourine told me

that Bernardi was guarded by a sergeant of the guards named Kalichkine,

with whom he was to have an interview on the morrow; but that having

sent to his friend the captain, who was with the Count Bestoujeff, to

ask if he could see him, the latter had informed him that if he wished

to see him he must come to his house; but that one of his subalterns,

whom he also knew, and who was his relation, had cautioned him not to go

there, because if he did, the captain would arrest him, and would make a

merit of so doing at his expense, and that of this he had boasted to a

confidant. Skourine therefore kept away from his pretended friend.

However Kalichkine, whom I had ordered to be gained over in my name,

told Bernardi all that was necessary; besides, he was only asked to

speak the simple truth, and to this both willingly lent themselves.

At the end of a few days, very early one morning, Stambke came into my

room, very pale and greatly frightened, and told me that his

correspondence and that of Count Bestoujeff with Count Poniatowsky had

been discovered; that the little horn-player had been arrested, and that

there was every reason to fear that their last letters had fallen into

the hands of Count Bestoujeff's keepers; that he himself expected every

moment to be dismissed, if not arrested; and that he had come to tell me

this, and to take his leave of me. This information caused me no little

anxiety. However, I consoled him as well as I could, and sent him away,

not doubting but that his visit would tend to augment against me, if

that were possible, all kinds of ill-feeling, and that I should,

perhaps, be shunned as a person suspected by the Government. I was,

however, well satisfied in my own mind that I had nothing to reproach

myself with against the Government. With the exception of Michel

Voronzoff, John Schouvaloff, the two Ambassadors of Austria and France,

and those whom these parties made to believe whatever they wished, the

general public, every one in St. Petersburg, great and small, was

persuaded that Count Bestoujeff was innocent, and that there was neither

crime nor delinquency to be laid to his charge. It was known that the

day following the evening of his arrest, a manifesto had been concocted

in the chamber of Ivan Schouvaloff, which the Sieur Volkoff, formerly

first commissary of Count Bestoujeff, and who, in the year 1755, had

absconded from his house, and after wandering some time in the woods,

had allowed himself to be taken, and who was at this moment first

Secretary to the Conference, had to draw up, and which they intended to

publish, in order to make known the reasons which had constrained the

Empress to act towards the Grand Chancellor in the way she had done.

Now, in this secret conference, in which they had to torment their

brains to discover offences, they agreed to state that it was for the

crime of high treason, and because Bestoujeff had endeavoured to sow

dissension between her Imperial Majesty and their Imperial Highnesses;

and it was their wish, the very day after his arrest, to banish him to

one of his estates, and deprive him of the rest of his property, without

trial or judgment. But there were some who thought that it was going too

far to exile a man without crime or trial, and that it was, at least,

necessary to look about and see if some crime could not be laid to his

charge; and if not, that, in any case, it was indispensable to make the

prisoner--who, for some unknown reason, had been shorn of his offices,

dignities, and decorations--pass under the judgment of Commissioners.

Now, these Commissioners, as I have already stated, were Marshal

Boutourline, the Procurator-General Prince Troubetskoy, the General

Count Alexander Schouvaloff, and the Sieur Volkoff as Secretary. The

first thing these Commissioners did was to give directions, through the

department of foreign affairs, to the ambassadors, envoys, and

_employés_ of Russia at foreign courts, to send copies of the despatches

which Count Bestoujeff had written to them since he had been at the head

of affairs. The object of this was to discover in these despatches some

crime or other. It was alleged against him that he wrote just what he

pleased, and made statements opposed to the orders and wishes of the

Empress; but as her Majesty neither wrote nor signed anything, it was

difficult to act against her orders; and, as to verbal orders, she could

hardly have given any to the High Chancellor, who for whole years had no

occasion to see her; and, as for verbal orders delivered through a third

party, they might as easily be misapprehended, as they might be

imperfectly delivered, as well as imperfectly received and understood.

But nothing came of all this except the order I have mentioned, because

none of the _employés_ gave himself the trouble of examining papers

ranging over twenty years, and then copying them for the purpose of

discovering crimes committed by one whose instructions and orders he

himself had followed out, and with whom, therefore, however well meant

his efforts, he might become implicated in any faults which might be

traced in them. Besides, the mere transmission of these papers would put

the crown to a considerable expense; and when, after all, they reached

St. Petersburg, there would be enough in them to try the patience of

many persons for many years in their attempts to discover and unravel

something which, after all, they might contain. The order therefore was

never executed; nay, even those who sent it at last grew tired of the

business itself, and at the end of a year it was concluded by the

publication of the manifesto, which they had begun to compose the day

after the Chancellor's arrest.

On the afternoon of the day on which Stambke had come to take leave of

me, the Empress sent an order to the Grand Duke to dismiss him, and send

him back to Holstein, for that his correspondence with Bestoujeff had

been discovered, and that he deserved to be arrested, but that out of

consideration for his Imperial Highness, whose minister he was, he

should be left at liberty, provided he was immediately sent away.

Stambke was immediately sent off, and with his departure ended my

interference in the affairs of Holstein. The Grand Duke was given to

understand that the Empress was not pleased at my having to meddle with

them, and his Imperial Highness was himself inclined that way. I do not

well remember who it was that succeeded Stambke, but I rather think it

was a person named Wolff. In the next place, the Empress' ministry

formally demanded of the King of Poland, the recall of Count

Poniatowsky, as a letter of his, addressed to Count Bestoujeff, had been

discovered. It was innocent enough, in fact, but nevertheless was

addressed to a so-called prisoner of state. As soon as I heard of the

dismissal of Stambke, and the recall of Count Poniatowsky, I prepared

myself to expect nothing good, and this is what I did. I summoned my

valet de chambre, Skourine, and ordered him to collect and bring to me

all my account books, and everything among my effects which could in any

way be regarded as a paper. He executed my orders with zeal and

exactitude, and when all were brought into my room I dismissed him. As

soon as he left the room, I threw all the books into the fire, and when

I saw them half-consumed, I recalled Skourine, and said to him, "Look

here, and be witness that all my papers and accounts are burnt, in order

that if you are ever asked where they are, you may be able to swear that

you saw me burn them." He thanked me for the care I took of him, and

told me that a singular alteration had been made in the guard over the

prisoners. Since the discovery of Stambke's correspondence with Count

Bestoujeff, a stricter watch had been kept upon him, and with this

object they had taken from Bernardi the sergeant Kalichkine, and had

placed him in the chamber and near the person of the late High

Chancellor. When Kalichkine saw this, he asked to have some of the

trusty soldiers who were under him when he was on guard at Bernardi's.

Here, then, was the most reliable and intelligent man we had introduced

into the very apartment of Count Bestoujeff, without having lost all

means of communication with Bernardi. In the meantime the

interrogatories of the Count were going on. Kalichkine made himself

known to him as a man devoted to me, and, in fact, he rendered him a

thousand good offices. Like myself, he was convinced that the Chancellor

was innocent, and the victim of a powerful cabal--and such, also, was

the persuasion of the public. As for the Grand Duke, I saw that they had

frightened him, and had led him to suspect that I was aware of the

correspondence of Stambke with the state-prisoner. I perceived that his

Royal Highness was almost afraid to speak to me, and avoided entering my

apartment, where I remained for the time, quite alone, seeing no one. I

would not, in fact, allow any one to come to me, fearing to expose them

to some misfortune or inconvenience, and when at court, in order to be

avoided, I refrained from approaching any one I thought likely to be

compromised by my notice. On the last days of the Carnival there was to

be a Russian play at the court theatre, and Count Poniatowsky begged me

to be present, because rumours had been spread that it was intended to

send me back to my own country, to prevent my appearance in public, and

I know not what besides, and that every time I did not appear at court

or at the theatre, every one was anxious to know the reason of my

absence, as much perhaps from curiosity as from interest in me. I knew

that the Russian drama was one of the things his Imperial Highness least

liked, and even to talk of going there was enough to displease him

seriously. On this occasion, too, in addition to his dislike of the

national drama, he had another and more personal objection, namely, that

it would deprive him of the company of the Countess Elizabeth Voronzoff;

as she was in the ante-chamber along with the other maids of honour, it

was there that his Imperial Highness enjoyed her conversation or her

company at play. If I went to the theatre these ladies were obliged to

follow me--a circumstance which annoyed his Imperial Highness, who had

then no other resource than to retire to his own apartments to drink.

Notwithstanding all this, as I had promised to go to the play, I sent a

message to Count Alexander Schouvaloff, desiring him to order a carriage

for me, as I intended that day to go to the play. The Count came and

told me that my intention of going to the theatre was anything but

agreeable to the Grand Duke. I replied that as I formed no part of the

society of his Royal Highness, I thought it would be the same to him

whether I was alone in my room or in my box at the theatre. He went

away, winking his eyes, as he always did whenever anything disturbed

him. Some time afterwards, the Grand Duke came into my room. He was in a

fearful passion, screaming like an eagle; accusing me of taking pleasure

in enraging him, and saying that I had chosen to go to these plays

because I knew he disliked them; but I represented to him that he ought

not to dislike them. He told me that he would forbid my having a

carriage. I replied that if he did I should go on foot, and that I could

not imagine what pleasure he could find in compelling me to die of

_ennui_ in my rooms, with no other company but my dog and my parrot.

After a long and very angry dispute on both sides, he went away, in a

greater rage than ever, and I still persisted in my intention of going

to the play. When it got near the time for starting, I sent to ask Count

Schouvaloff if the carriages were ready; he came and told me that the

Grand Duke had forbidden any to be provided for me. Then I became really

angry, and told him that I would go on foot, and that if he forbade the

ladies and gentlemen from attending me I would go alone; and, besides,

that I would write and complain to the Empress, both of the Duke and of

him. "What will you say to her?" he asked. "I will tell her," I said,

"the manner in which I am treated, and that you, in order to secure for

the Grand Duke a rendezvous with my maids of honour, encourage him to

prevent my going to the theatre, where I might, perhaps, have the

pleasure of seeing her Imperial Majesty; and besides this, I will beg of

her to send me back to my mother, because I am weary of, and disgusted

with, the part I play here: left alone and deserted in my room, hated by

the Grand Duke, and not liked by the Empress, I want to be at rest, and

a burden to no one; I want to be freed from the necessity of making

every one who approaches me unhappy, and particularly my poor servants,

of whom so many have been exiled, because I was kind to them, or wished

to be so. It is thus that I shall write to her Imperial Majesty, and I

will see, moreover, whether you yourself will not be the bearer of my

letter." My gentleman got frightened at the determined tone I assumed;

he left me, and I sat down to write my letter to the Empress in Russian,

making it as pathetic as I could. I began by thanking her for the

kindness and favours with which she had loaded me ever since my arrival

in Russia, saying that, unfortunately, the event proved that I did not

deserve them, since I had only drawn upon myself the hatred of the Grand

Duke and the very marked displeasure of her Imperial Majesty; that as I

was unhappy and shut up in my own room, where I was deprived of even the

most innocent amusements, I begged her earnestly to put an end to my

sufferings, by sending me to my relations in any manner she judged

proper; that as for the children, as I never saw them, though living in

the same house with them, it made little difference to me whether I was

in the same place with them or some hundreds of leagues distant; that I

was well aware that she took better care of them than my poor powers

would enable me to do; that I ventured to entreat her to continue this

care of them; that confident of this, I would pass the rest of my time

with my relations, in praying for her, the Grand Duke, my children, and

all those who had done me either good or evil; but that my health was

reduced by grief to such a state, that I did what I could to preserve my

life, at least; and that with this object I addressed myself to her for

permission to go to the waters, and thence to my relations.

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