Meanwhile, Elizabeth had made herself absolute mistress of the imperial
palace. Hastening to the throne-room, she had taken possession of the
throne of her father, and administered the oath of allegiance to the
guards surrounding her.
They lay upon their knees before her, these cowardly instruments of
despotism; they bowed their heads in the dust, and these four or five
thousand slaves, to which number the followers of the empress already
amounted, swore fealty to Elizabeth, ready to strangle the regent
and the young emperor at her command, or to serve her the same if,
peradventure, the regent should regain a momentary power.
While the guards were doing homage in the palace, Grunstein and
Woronzow, by Lestocq’s command, led their men to Munnich’s and
Ostermann’s, and both were imprisoned; with them, a great number of
leading and suspected persons, who, perhaps, might have been disposed to
draw the sword for Anna Leopoldowna. Lestocq had thought of every
thing, had considered every thing; at the same time that he entered the
regent’s palace with Elizabeth, he sent to the printer the manifesto
which proclaimed Elizabeth as empress. With the appearance of the sun
in the horizon, Elizabeth was recognized as empress in the capital, and
soon after throughout the whole empire. Who were they who recognized
her? It was not the people, for in Russia there are no people--there are
only masters and slaves. Elizabeth had become empress because fortune
and Anna Leopoldowna’s generous confidence had favored her; not the
exigencies of the people, nor the tyranny of her predecessor had
called her to the throne, but she had attained to it by the cunning
and intrigues of some few confederates. She had become empress because
Lestocq was tired of being only physician to a poor princess; because
Grunstein thought the position of under-officer was far too humble for
him, and because Alexis Razumovsky, the former precentor in the imperial
chapel, found it desirable to add to his name the title of count or
prince!
When St. Petersburg awoke it heard with astonishment the news of a new
revolution. From mouth to mouth flew this astounding announcement: “We
have changed our rulers! We are no longer the servants of the Emperor
Ivan, but of the Empress Elizabeth! A new dynasty has arisen, and we
have a new oath of allegiance to take!”
At first only a few ventured to spread this extraordinary intelligence,
and these few were tremblingly and anxiously avoided; it was dangerous
to listen to them; people fled from them without answering. But as the
rumors became constantly louder and more significant, as at length their
truth could no longer be doubted, as it became certain that the regent
and her son were dethroned and Elizabeth was established in power, all
the doubting and anxious faces were, as by an electric spark, lighted up
with joy; then nothing was heard but the cry of triumph and jubilation;
then was Anna Leopoldowna loudly cursed by those who had blessed her on
the preceding day; then was the new Empress Elizabeth loudly lauded by
those who yesterday had smiled with contempt at her powerlessness.
All again hastened to the imperial palace; the great and the noble again
brought out their state coaches for the purpose of throwing themselves
at the feet of the new possessor of power and swearing a new allegiance;
again nothing was heard but the sound of universal rejoicing, nothing
seen but faces lighted up by ecstasy and eyes glistening with tears of
joy. And this was, in fourteen months, the third time that they had done
homage to a new ruler who had as regularly dethroned his predecessor,
and they had each time gone through the same ceremony with the same
evidences of joy, the same ecstasies, the same slavish humility, not
commiserating the defeated party, but professing love and devotion to
the victor!
And as the day dawned on St. Petersburg, as it gloriously beamed upon
the young empress, as she saw these thousands of worshipping slaves at
her feet, Elizabeth’s heart swelled with a proud joy, and looking down
upon the masses of humble and devoted subjects, whose mistress she was,
she felt herself momentarily overcome by a deep and holy emotion.
“I will be a mother to this people,” thought she; “I will love and spare
them; I will govern them with mildness; they shall not curse, but adore
me!”
Yielding to this first generous impulse of her heart, Elizabeth rose
from the throne, and with uplifted hands loudly and solemnly swore that
she would be a mother to her subjects--a mother who, when compelled to
punish, would never forget love and forbearance!
“No one, however great his crime,” said she, with flashing eyes--“no
one shall be punished with death so long as I sit upon this throne! From
this day the punishment of death is abolished in my realm! I will punish
crime, but I will spare the life of the criminal!”
When Elizabeth had thus spoken, the large hall again resounded with the
rejoicing shouts of the great and noble--men breathed freer and deeper,
they raised their heads more proudly; for centuries the all-powerful
word of the czars had swept over the heads of Russians like the sword
of Damocles--it now seemed to be removed, and to promise to each one
a longer life, a longer unendangered existence. For where was there
a subject of the czars who might not at any time be convicted of a
crime--where an innocent person who might not at any moment be condemned
to death? A glance, a smile, an inconsiderate word, had often sufficed
to cause a head to fall! And now this eternally present danger seemed to
be removed! What wonder, then, that they raised shouts of joy, that
they embraced each other, that they loudly and solemnly called down the
blessings of Heaven upon this noble and merciful empress!
During this time of general rejoicing among the great and noble of the
realm in the brilliant imperial halls above, the palace was surrounded
by dense masses of people looking up with curiosity at the bright
windows, and listening with astonishment to the joyful shouts that
reached their ears below. And when they heard the cause of the rejoicing
above, they shrugged their shoulders and murmured low: “The empress will
henceforth punish no one with death! What is that to us? That the great
shall no more be put to death by the empress, is no concern of ours, the
serfs of the great! The empress is powerful, but our lords and masters
have yet more power over us. They will still scourge us to death, and
the empress cannot hinder them!”
That a word of authority from the czarina had abolished the punishment
of death, did not stir them up from their dull, expectant silence; but
when a messenger from the empress came and announced that Elizabeth had
ordered a flask of brandy to be given to each one of the crowd assembled
below, that they might drink her health, then came life and movement
to these stupid masses, then their dull faces were distorted into a
friendly grin, then they screamed and howled with a brutish ecstasy, and
they all rushed to the opened door to avail themselves of the promised
benevolence of the empress and receive the divine liquor!
For the great, the abolition of capital punishment--for the people, a
flask of brandy--these were the first rays that announced the appearance
of the newly-rising sun Elizabeth in the horizon of her realm!
No,--Elizabeth did yet more!--in this hour she remembered with a
grateful heart the faithful friends who had assisted her to the throne;
to reward these was her next and most sacred duty!
A nod from her called to her presence the thirty grenadiers of the
Preobrajensky regiment whom Grunstein had won over, and the empress with
a gracious smile gave them her hand to kiss.
Then, rising from her throne, and glancing at the assembled magnates and
princes, she said, in a clear and flattering tone: “It is service that
ennobles, it is fidelity that lends fame and splendor. And service and
fidelity have you rendered and shown to me, my faithful grenadiers! I
will reward you as you deserve. From this hour you are free; nay, more,
you are magnates of my realm; you belong, with the best of right, to
their circle, for, in virtue of my imperial power, I raise you to
the nobility by creating you barons, all of you, my thirty faithful
grenadiers, and you, Grunstein, the leader of this faithful band!
Receive them into your ranks, my counts and barons, they are worthy of
you!”
Hesitating, not daring to mingle with those proud magnates, stood the
new barons; but the princes and counts advanced to them with open
arms, with exclamations of tenderness and assurances of friendship. The
empress had spoken, the slaves must obey; and these princes and counts,
these generals and field-marshals, who yesterday would hardly have
thrown away a contemptuous glance upon these grenadiers, now called
them friends and brothers, and were most happy to admit them into their
circle.
Elizabeth gave a satisfied glance at these hearty greetings: she found
it infinitely sweet and agreeable to make so many men happy in so easy a
manner, and with pleasure she recollected that she had yet to reward her
coachman who had guided her sledge in the great and decisive hour.
She ordered him to be called. A considerable time elapsed, and all were
looking expectantly toward the door, which finally opened, and, led by
four lackeys, the coachman stumbled into the hall. They had had some
trouble in finding him, until at length he was discovered among the
people in the court-yard, enjoying the brandy distributed by order of
the empress. From this crowd they had withdrawn him in spite of his
resistance, in order to bring him to his sovereign.
She received the staggering Petrovitch with a gracious smile, she
praised the dauntlessness with which he had guided her sledge in that
eventful night, and in gratitude for his good conduct she raised him, as
she had the grenadiers, to the rank of a nobleman by naming him a baron
of the Russian empire.
Petrovitch listened to her with a stupid laugh; and when the magnates
crowded around him, offering their hands and assuring him of their
friendship, he tremblingly and with effort stammered some unmeaning
words, and falling upon his knees, he bowed his head in the dust before
these great and powerful magnates, humbly kissing the hems of their
garments, not suspecting that he was their equal in rank.
And constantly more brilliant and beautiful beamed the imperial grace.
None of Elizabeth’s faithful friends and servants were forgotten, for
she possessed a virtue rare among princes--she was grateful.
She named Lestocq her first physician, president of the medical
college, and member of her privy council. She made Grunstein an imperial
aide-de-camp, with the rank of brigadier-general; and Woronzow a count
and her first chamberlain.
Then, at last, she repeated the name of her friend Alexis Razumovsky.
Her fair brow lighted up as with a reflected sunbeam on his approaching
her throne, and, holding out to him both hands, she said aloud: “Alexis
Razumovsky, I have you most to thank for my success in dispossessing
the usurpers who have robbed me of my father’s throne; for your wise
counsels gave me courage and force: be then, henceforth, next to my
throne, my chamberlain, Count Razumovsky!”
Bending a knee before her, Alexis gratefully kissed her beloved hand,
and the counts and gentlemen surrounded him, loudly praising the great
wisdom of the empress, whose divine penetration enabled her everywhere
to discover and reward true service!
“Ah,” sighed Elizabeth, when, on the evening of this glorious day, she
was again alone with her confidential friends, “ah, my friends, I have
now complied with your wishes and allowed you to make an empress of me!
But forget not, Lestocq, that I have become empress only on condition
that I am not to be troubled with business and state affairs. This has
been a day of great exertion and fatigue, and I hope you will henceforth
leave me in repose. I have done what you wished, I am empress, and have
rewarded you for your aid, but now I also demand my reward, and that is
undisturbed peace! Once for all, in my private apartments no one is to
speak of state affairs, here I will have repose; you can carry on the
government through your bureaux and _chancelleries_; I will have
nothing to do with it! Here we will be gay and enjoy life. Come here, my
Alexis,--come here and tell me if this imperial crown is becoming, and
whether you found me fair in my ermine-trimmed purple mantle?”
“My lofty empress is always the fairest of women,” tenderly responded
Alexis.
“Call me not empress,” said she, drawing him closer to her. “That
brings again to mind all the hardships and wearinesses I have this day
encountered.”
“Only yet a moment, your majesty; let me remind you that you are now
empress, and, as such, have duties to perform!” pressingly exclaimed
Lestocq. “You have this day exercised the pleasantest right of your
imperial power--the right of rewarding and making happy. But there
remains another and not less important duty; your majesty must now think
of punishing. The regent, and her husband and son, are prisoners; as,
also are Munnich, Ostermann, Count Lowenwald, and Julia von Mengden. You
must think of judging and punishing them.”
Elizabeth had paid no attention to him. She was whispering and laughing
with Alexis, who had let down her long dark hair, and was now playfully
twining it around her white neck.
“Ah, you have not listened to me, your majesty,” impatiently cried
Lestocq. “You must, however, for a few moments remember your dignity,
and direct what is to be done with the imprisoned traitors.”
“Only see, Alexis, how this new lord privy counsellor teases me,” sighed
the princess, and, turning to Lestocq, she continued: “I think you
should understand the laws better than I, and should know how traitors
are punished.”
“In all countries high-treason is punished with death,” said Lestocq,
gloomily.
“Well, let these traitors fare according to the common usage, and kill
them,” responded Elizabeth, comfortably extending herself upon the
divan.
“But your majesty has this day abolished the punishment of death.”
“Have I so? Ah, yes, I now remember. Well, as I have said it, I must
keep my word.”
“And the regent, Prince Ulrich, the so-called Emperor Ivan, Counts
Ostermann, Munnich, Lowenwald, as well as Julia von Mengden, and the
other prisoners, are all to remain unpunished?”
“Can they be punished in no other way than by death?” impatiently asked
Elizabeth. “Have we not prisons and the knout? Have we not Siberia and
the rack? Punish these traitors, then, as you think best. I give you
full powers, and, if it must be so, will even take the trouble to affix
my signature to your sentence.”
“But we cannot scourge the regent or her son?”
“No,” said Elizabeth, with vehemence, “these you must permit to go free
and without hindrance to Germany; your judicial powers will not extend
to them. It shall not be said that Elizabeth has delivered up her aunt
and cousin to torture for the purpose of securing her own advantage.
Let them go hence free and unobstructed! I tell you this is my express,
imperial will!”
And Elizabeth, exhausted by so great an effort, leaned her head upon the
shoulder of Alexis, mechanically playing with his locks.
“And Munnich and Ostermann?” asked Lestocq.
“_Mon Dieu!_ will, then, this annoyance never cease?” impatiently
exclaimed the empress. “What are Munnich and Ostermann to me? I know
them not; they have never injured and are wholly indifferent to me. Do
with them as you and your colleagues think best, I shall not trouble
myself about it. Judge, condemn, punish them, it is all one to me--only
their lives must be spared, as I have promised that no one shall be
punished with death.”
“I may, then, announce to the council that you will confirm their
sentence?”
“Yes, yes, certainly,” cried Elizabeth, springing up. “Scourge, banish
them, do what you please, but leave me in peace! Come, my Alexis, this
good Lestocq is insufferable to-day; he will annoy us to death if we
remain any longer here! Come, we will escape from him and his serious
face! Oh, we have much more serious subjects of conversation. To-morrow
is my grand gala dinner, and we have my toilet to examine, to be certain
that every thing is in the proper order. And then the ball toilet for
the evening, which is far more important. I shall open the ball with a
_Polonnaise_. You promised me, Alexis, to practice with me the new tour
which the Marquis de la Chetardie describes as the latest Parisian mode.
Come, let us essay this tour. For a new empress, at her first court
ball, there is nothing more important than that she should perform her
duty as leader of the dance with propriety and grace. Quick, therefore,
to the work! Give me your hand--and now, Alexis, let us commence. Sing a
melody to it, and then it will go better.”
Alexis began to sing a _Polonnaise_, and, taking the hand of the
empress, they commenced the practice of the new _Polonnaise_ tour.
“So, that is right,” said he, interrupting his singing, “that is very
fine. Now let go my hand and turn proudly and majestically around.
Beautifully done! Now a half turn sideward. One, two, three--la, la, la,
tra la!”
“Yet one more question,” interposed Lestocq; “may the council of state
sit in judgment upon Lowenwald and de Mengden, and will you confirm
their decision?”
“One, two, three--tra, la, la!” sang Alexis, and the empress whirled and
made her graceful turn, as he had taught her.
Lestocq repeated his question to the empress.
Elizabeth was precisely in the most difficult tour.
“Yes, yes,” she breathlessly cried, “I deliver them all over to you;
scourge them, punish them, send them to Siberia--whatever you think
best! Halt, Alexis, we must try this tour over again. But, indeed, I
think I shall acquit myself very well in it.”
“Heavenly!” cried Alexis. “Once more, then! One, two, three--la, la, la,
tra la!”