PART I.

FROM 1729, THE YEAR OF HER BIRTH, TO 1751.

FORTUNE is not so blind as people think. Her movements are often the result of precise and well-planned measures, which escape the perception of common minds; still oftener are they the result of personal qualities, character, and conduct.

To render this more evident, I will propose the following syllogism:

Qualities and character shall form the major

Conduct, the minor;

Good or evil fortune, the conclusion.

Here are two striking illustrations:

The mother of Peter III was a daughter of Peter I. Two months after the birth of her son she died of consumption, in the little town of Kiel, in Holstein, a victim to grief at finding herself established in such a place and married so badly. Charles Frederic, Duke of Holstein, nephew of Charles XII, King of Sweden, was the father of Peter III. He was a weak prince, ugly, little, sickly, and poor (see the Journal of Berkholz, in Busching’s Magazine). He died in 1739, leaving his son, not quite eleven years old, under the guardianship of his cousin, Adolphus Frederic, Bishop of Lubeck and Duke of Holstein, since elected King of Sweden, in consequence of the peace of Abo, and the recommendation of the Empress Elizabeth. The education of Peter III was placed under the superintendence of the Grand Marshal of his Court, Brummer, a Swede by birth, under whom were the Great Chamberlain Berkholz, author of the journal just alluded to, and four chamberlains, two of whom, Adlerfeldt, author of a history of Charles XII, and Wachmeister, were Swedes, and the other two, Wolff and Madfeldt, natives of Holstein. The Prince was educated for the throne of Sweden, in a court too large for the country which contained it; and this court was divided into several factions mutually hating each other, each seeking to obtain an ascendancy over the mind of the Prince, instead of endeavouring to form his character, and all bent upon inspiring him with an aversion for those opposed to them. The young Prince cordially hated Brummer; nor did he like any of his attendants, because they kept him under restraint.

Even from the ago of ten, Peter III showed a fondness for drink. He had to submit to numerous presentations, and was never out of sight night or day. The persons he most liked during his childhood and the first years of his residence in Russia were two old valets de chambre—Cramer, a Livonian, and Roumberg, a Swede. The latter was the favourite; he was a somewhat rough and vulgar person, who had been a dragoon under Charles XII. Brummer, and consequently Berkholz, who only saw with the eyes of Brummer, was attached to the Prince Guardian and Administrator; all the rest were dissatisfied with this Prince, and still more so with his adherents.

When the Empress Elizabeth ascended the throne of Russia, she sent the Chamberlain Korf into Holstein to demand her nephew. In consequence, the Prince Administrator immediately sent him off, accompanied by the Grand Marshal Brummer, the Chamberlain Berkholz, and the Chamberlain Decken, nephew of the former. The Empress received the Prince with great joy, and soon after his arrival set out for Moscow to be crowned. She had determined to declare him her heir; but, first of all, it was indispensable that he should be received into the Greek church. The enemies of the Grand Marshal Brummer, and particularly the Great Chamberlain Count Bestoujeff and the Count M. Panin, who was for a long time Russian minister in Sweden, pretended to have in their possession convincing proofs that Brummer, from the moment he found the Empress determined to declare her nephew heir presumptive to her throne, took as much pains to corrupt the mind and heart of his pupil as he had before taken to render him worthy of the crown of Sweden. But I have always doubted this atrocity, and looked upon the education of Peter III as a conflict of unfortunate circumstances. I will relate what I have seen and heard, and even that will explain a great deal.

I saw Peter III for the first time when he was eleven years old. He was then at Eutin with his guardian, the Prince Bishop of Lubeck, some months after the death of his father, the Duke Charles Frederic. The Prince Bishop had assembled all his family at Eutin, in 1739, in order to meet his ward. My grandmother, mother of the Prince Bishop, and my mother, his sister, had come from Hamburg with me. I was then ten years old. Prince Augustus and the Princess Anne, brother and sister of the Prince Guardian and Administrator of Holstein, were also there; and it was then I heard it stated, in the presence of the assembled family, that the young Duke was inclined to drink, his attendants finding it difficult to prevent him from getting intoxicated at table; that he was restive and impetuous; without affection for those about him, and especially disliking Brummer; that, otherwise, he was not wanting in vivacity, but that he was of a weak and sickly constitution. In point of fact, his complexion was pale, and he appeared thin and delicate. To this child his attendants wished to give the appearance of a complete man; and for this purpose he was tormented with restraints only calculated to teach him falsehood as well in character as in deportment.

The little court of Holstein had not long been settled in Russia when an embassy arrived from Sweden, requesting the Empress to allow her nephew to be placed on the throne of that kingdom. Elizabeth, however, had already announced her intentions by the preliminaries of the peace of Abo, as previously mentioned; and she replied to the Swedish diet that she had declared her nephew heir to the throne of Russia, and that she adhered to the preliminaries of the peace of Abo, which gave to Sweden, as heir presumptive to the crown, the Prince Administrator of Holstein. (This Prince had had an elder brother, to whom the Empress had been affianced at the death of Peter I. The marriage had not taken place, as the Prince died of small-pox a few weeks after the betrothal; but the Empress retained much affection for his memory, as she showed by many marks of favour to all the family.)

Peter III, then, was declared heir to Elizabeth and Grand Duke of Russia, after having previously made his profession of faith according to the rites of the Greek church. His instructor on this occasion was Simon Theodorsky, since Archbishop of Pleskov. The Prince had been baptized and brought up in the Lutheran creed in its most rigid and least tolerant form. He had always been refractory under instruction of every kind; and I have heard his attendants say that, while at Kiel, they had infinite trouble in getting him to church on Sundays and holidays, and making him perform the acts of devotion required of him; and that most of the time he displayed his irreligion in the presence of Simon Theodorsky. His Royal Highness took it into his head to dispute upon every point, and his attendants had often to be called in to check his ill-humour or impetuosity. At last, after giving a deal of trouble, he submitted to the wishes of his aunt the Empress; though, whether from prejudice, habit, or the spirit of contradiction, he frequently took care to let it be seen that he would rather have gone to Sweden than remain in Russia. He retained Brummer, Berkholz, and his Holstein attendants until his marriage. Some other masters were added to these as a matter of routine: Mr. Isaac Wesselowsky for the Russian language; he came but rarely at first, and finally not at all; the other was the Professor Stehlein, who was to teach him mathematics and history, but who, in reality, only played with him, and served him as a buffoon. The person who was most assiduous was the ballet-master, Laudé, who taught him dancing.

1744.

At first, the sole occupation of the Grand Duke, when in his private apartment, was to make the two servants who attended him there to go through the military exercise. He gave them titles and ranks, and then again degraded them, according to the whim of the moment. It was truly child’s play, and a constant childhood. In general, indeed, he was very childish, although at this time he was sixteen. In 1744, while the court was at Moscow, Catherine II arrived there with her mother, on the 9th of February.

The Russian court was at that time divided into two great sections or parties. At the head of the first, which now began to recover from its previous depression, was the Vice-Chancellor Count Bestoujeff Rumine. He was a man far more feared than loved, excessively intriguing and suspicious, firm and resolute in his principles, not a little tyrannical, an implacable enemy, but a steady friend, never abandoning those who did not first turn their backs on him. He was, besides, difficult to get along with, and apt to stand upon trifles. He was at the head of the department of foreign affairs. Having to contend with those immediately about the Empress, he had been kept down before the journey to Moscow; but now he began to gain an ascendancy. He leaned to the court of Vienna, to that of Saxony, and to England. The arrival of Catherine II and her mother gave him no pleasure; it was the secret work of the faction opposed to him. The enemies of the Count were numerous, but he made them all tremble. He had over them the advantage of his position and character, which gave him great weight in the politics of the ante-chamber.

The party opposed to Bestoujeff were in favour of France, her protégée Sweden, and the king of Prussia. The Marquis de la Chétardie was the soul of this party; the courtiers from Holstein its prominent personages. They had gained over Lestocq, one of the principal actors in the revolution which had placed Elizabeth on the throne of Russia. He had a large share in her confidence. He had been her surgeon since the death of the Empress Catherine I, to whose household he had also been attached, and had rendered essential services to both mother and daughter. He was not wanting either in shrewdness, skill, or intrigue; but he was malicious, and had a bad heart. All these strangers supported him, and put forward Count Michael Woronzoff, who had also taken part in the revolution, and had accompanied Elizabeth on the night she ascended the throne. She had made him marry the niece of the Empress Catherine I, the Countess Anna Karlovna Skavronsky, who had been brought up with herself, and was very much attached to her. To this faction also belonged the Count Alexander Roumianzoff, father of the Marshal, who had signed the peace of Abo with Sweden—a peace in which Bestoujeff had been but little consulted. The party also counted upon the Procurator-general Troubetzkoy, upon the whole Troubetzkoy family, and, consequently, upon the Prince of Hesse-Homburg, who had married a princess of this family. The Prince of Hesse-Homburg, who was much thought of at that time, was personally of little consequence, his importance being wholly derived from the extensive family to which his wife belonged, and of which the father and mother were still living: the latter enjoyed great consideration.

The remaining portion of those who were about the Empress consisted at that time of the family of Schouvaloff. These balanced in all respects the Master of the Hounds, Razoumowsky, who, for the moment, was the acknowledged favourite.

Count Bestoujeff knew how to make these latter useful, but his chief reliance was on the Baron Tcherkassoff, Secretary of the Cabinet to the Empress, and who had previously served in the cabinet of Peter I. He was a rough and headstrong man, an advocate of order and justice, and one who wished to see everything in due form and system. The remainder of the court took sides with one or other of these parties, according to their several interests or personal feelings.

The arrival of my mother and myself seemed to give the Grand Duke much pleasure. I was then in my fifteenth year. During the first few days he showed me great attention. Even then, and in that short time, I could see that he cared but little for the nation over which he was destined to rule; that he leaned to Lutheranism; that he had no affection for those about him; and that he was very childish. I was silent, and listened, and this gained me his confidence. I remember his telling me, among other things, that what most pleased him in me was, that I was his cousin, as he could therefore, from our near relationship, open his heart to me with entire confidence; and hereupon he went on to inform me that he was in love with one of the maids of honour to the Empress, who had been dismissed from court in consequence of the misfortune of her mother, a Madame Lapoukine, who had been exiled to Siberia; that he would have been very glad to have married her, but that he was resigned to marry me instead, as his aunt wished it. I listened with a blush to these family disclosures, thanking him for his premature confidence; but, in reality, I was astounded at his imprudence and utter want of judgment in a variety of matters.

The tenth day after my arrival in Moscow, it was Saturday, the Empress went to the convent of Troïtza. The Grand Duke remained with us at Moscow. Three masters had already been assigned me: Simon Theodorsky, to instruct me in the Greek faith; Basil Adadouroff, for the Russian language; and the ballet-master, Laudé, for dancing. In order to make greater progress in the Russian, I used to sit up in bed when every one else was asleep, and learned by heart the lessons which Adadouroff had left me. As my room was warm, and I had no experience of the climate, I neglected to put on my shoes or stockings, but studied just as I left my bed. The consequence was, that from the fifteenth day I was seized with a pleurisy which threatened to kill me. It commenced with a shivering, which seized me on the Tuesday after the departure of the Empress for the convent of Troïtza, just as I had dressed for dinner. My mother and myself were to dine that day with the Grand Duke, and I had much difficulty in getting her to allow me to go to bed. On her return from dinner, she found me almost without consciousness, in a burning fever, and with an excruciating pain in the side. She fancied I was going to have the small-pox; sent for the physicians, and wished me to be treated in consequence. The medical men insisted on my being bled, but she would not listen to the proposal, saying that it was from being bled that her brother had died of the small-pox in Russia, and that she did not wish me to share the same fate. The physicians, and the attendants of the Grand Duke, who had not had the disease, sent to the Empress an exact report of the state of matters, and in the mean time, while my mother and the doctors were disputing, I lay in my bed, unconscious, in a burning fever, and with a pain in the side which occasioned intense suffering, and forced from me continual moanings, for which my mother scolded me, telling me that I ought to bear my sufferings patiently.

Finally, on the Saturday evening, at seven o’clock, that is, on the fifth day of my disease, the Empress returned from the convent at Troïtza, and, on alighting from her carriage, proceeded to my room, and found me without consciousness. She had with her Count Lestocq and a surgeon, and having heard the opinion of the physicians, she sat down at the head of my bed, and ordered me to be bled. The moment the blood came, I recovered my consciousness, and, opening my eyes, found myself in the arms of the Empress, who had lifted me up. For twenty-seven days I lay between life and death, and during that period I was bled sixteen times, on some occasions as often as four times in the day. My mother was scarcely ever allowed to enter my room. She continued opposed to these frequent bleedings, and loudly asserted that the doctors were killing me. She began, however, to believe that I should not have the small-pox. The Empress had placed the Countess Roumianzoff and several other ladies in attendance on me, and it seemed that my mother’s judgment was distrusted. At last, under the care of the physician Sanches, a Portuguese, the abscess which had formed in my right side burst. I vomited it, and from that moment I began to recover. I soon perceived that my mother’s conduct during my illness had lowered her in every one’s estimation. When she saw me very bad, she wished a Lutheran clergyman to be brought to me. I have been told that they brought me to myself, or took advantage of a moment of returning consciousness, to propose this to me, and that I replied, “What is the good? I would rather have Simon Theodorsky; I will speak to him with pleasure.” He was brought, and addressed me in a manner that gave general satisfaction. This occurrence did me great service in the opinion of the Empress and of the entire court. There was also another circumstance which injured my mother. One day, towards Easter, she took it into her head to send me word by a maid-servant that she wished me to give up to her a piece of blue and silver stuff, which my father’s brother had presented to me on my departure for Russia, seeing that I had taken a great fancy for it. I replied that she could, of course, take it, though I certainly prized it very much, as my uncle had given it to me because I liked it so much. The persons about me perceiving that I parted with it unwillingly, and considering how long I had hovered between life and death, having only got a little better within the last two or three days, began to complain of my mother’s imprudence in giving any annoyance to a dying child, saying, that so far from depriving me of my dress, she ought not even to have mentioned the matter. The circumstance was related to the Empress, who instantly sent me several superb pieces of stuff, and among them one of blue and silver, but the circumstance injured my mother in the estimation of the Empress. She was accused of having no affection for me, nor any discretion either. I had accustomed myself during my illness to lie with my eyes closed. I was supposed to be asleep, and then the Countess Roumianzoff, and the ladies who were with her, spoke their minds freely, and I thus learned a great many things.

As I began to get better, the Grand Duke often came to spend the evening in my mother’s apartment, which was also mine. He and every one else seemed to take the greatest interest in my condition. The Empress had often shed tears about me. At last, on the 21st of April, 1744, my birthday, whence commenced my fifteenth year, I was able to appear in public for the first time after this severe illness.

I fancy that people were not much edified with the apparition. I was wasted away to a skeleton. I had grown; but my face and features had lengthened, my hair had fallen off, and I was deadly pale. To myself I looked frightfully ugly; I could not recognize myself. The Empress sent me, on the occasion, a pot of rouge, and ordered me to use it.

With the return of spring and fine weather, the assiduities of the Grand Duke ceased. He preferred walking and shooting in the environs of Moscow. Sometimes, however, he came to dine or sup with us, and then he continued his childish confidences to me, while his attendants conversed with my mother, who received much company, and with whom many conferences took place, which did not fail to displease those who were not present at them, especially Count Bestoujeff, all whose enemies were in the habit of assembling with us, and particularly the Marquis de la Chétardie, who had not yet put forth any character[3] from the court of France, though he carried in his pocket his credentials as ambassador.

In the month of May, the Empress again visited the convent of Troïtza, whither the Grand Duke, myself, and my mother followed her. For some time the Empress had begun to treat my mother with much coldness. At the convent of Troïtza, the reason for this became apparent. One afternoon, when the Grand Duke was in our room, the Empress entered suddenly, and desired my mother to follow her into the other apartment. Count Lestocq followed there also. The Grand Duke and I sat upon a window-sill, waiting. The conversation lasted a long time. At last, Count Lestocq came out, and, in passing, came near the place where the Grand Duke and I were sitting laughing, and said to us, “This merriment will soon cease.” And then, turning to me, he added, “You may pack up: you are going to set off home at once.” The Grand Duke wished to know the reason of this. “You will learn afterwards,” was the reply of the Count, who departed to fulfil the commission with which he was charged, and of the nature of which I was ignorant. The Grand Duke and myself were left to ruminate on what we had heard. His commentaries were in words; mine in thoughts. “But,” he said, “if your mother is in fault, you are not.” I answered, “My duty is to follow my mother, and do what she orders me.” I saw plainly that he would have parted from me without regret. As for myself, considering his character and sentiments, the matter was nearly indifferent to me also, but the crown of Russia was not so. At last the door of the bed-room opened, and the Empress came out with a flushed face and an angry look. My mother followed her, her eyes red, and filled with tears. As we scrambled down from the window where we were perched, and which was rather high, the Empress smiled. She then kissed us both, and departed. When she had gone, we learned pretty nearly how matters stood.

The Marquis de la Chétardie, who formerly, or, to speak more correctly, in his first diplomatic journey to Russia, had stood very high in the favour and confidence of the Empress, found himself, in his second journey, fallen from his hopes. His conversations were more measured than his letters; these were filled with the most rancorous bitterness. They had been opened, deciphered. In them were found the details of his conversations with my mother, and with many other persons, relative to the affairs of the empire, and to the Empress herself; and as the Marquis had not displayed any character,[4] the order was given for expelling him from the empire. The badge of the order of St. Andrew and the portrait of the Empress were taken from him; but he was allowed to retain all the other presents of jewels made him by her Majesty. I do not know whether my mother succeeded in justifying herself in the mind of the Empress, but at all events, we did not go away. However, my mother continued to be treated with much reserve and coldness. I do not know what passed between her and La Chétardie, but I know that one day he complimented me on my having my hair arranged en Moyse. I replied that to satisfy the Empress, I would dress my hair in every style that could give her pleasure. When he heard this he turned on his heel, went off in another direction, and did not again speak to me.

On our return from Moscow with the Grand Duke, my mother and I were more isolated. Fewer people came to see us, and I was being prepared for making my profession of faith. The 28th of June was fixed for this ceremony, and the following day, the Feast of St. Peter, for my betrothal with the Grand Duke. I remember that Marshal Brummer, several times during this period, complained to me of his pupil, and wished to make use of me for correcting or reproving him; but I told him it was impossible for me to do so, and that were I to attempt it I should only render myself as odious to him as his attendants were already.

During this period, my mother became very intimate with the Prince and Princess of Hesse, and still more so with the brother of the latter, the Chamberlain Retsky. This connection displeased the Countess Roumianzoff, Marshal Brummer, and, in fact, every one; and, while she was engaged with them in her room, the Grand Duke and I were making a racket in the ante-chamber, of which we were in full possession; we were neither of us wanting in youthful vivacity.

In the month of July, the Empress celebrated, at Moscow, the peace with Sweden. On this occasion, a Court was formed for me, as an affianced Grand Duchess of Russia; and, immediately after the celebration, the Empress sent us off for Kiev. She set out herself some days later. We made short stages—my mother and I, the Countess Roumianzoff, and one of the ladies of my mother’s suite in one carriage; the Grand Duke, Brummer, Berkholz, and Decken in another. One afternoon, the Grand Duke, tired of being with his pedagogues, wished to join my mother and me. Once in with us, he would not leave our carriage. Then my mother, wearied with being always with him and me, took a fancy to augment our company. She communicated her idea to the young people of our suite, among whom were Prince Galitzine, since Marshal of this name, and Count Zachar Czernicheff. One of the carriages, containing our beds, was taken, benches were ranged all round it, and the next morning the Grand Duke, my mother and I, Prince Galitzine, Count Czernicheff, and one or two more of the youngest of the suite, entered it. And thus we passed the rest of our journey very gaily, as far as our carriage life was concerned; but all who were not with us protested against the arrangement. It extremely displeased the Grand Marshal Brummer, the Great Chamberlain Berkholz, the Countess Roumianzoff, the Lady-in-waiting on my mother, and, in fact, all the rest of the suite, because they were never admitted; and, while we laughed through the journey, they were grumbling and wearied.

In this manner we reached Koselsk, at the end of three weeks, and there remained three other weeks waiting for the Empress, who had been delayed on her route by several occurrences. We learnt at Koselsk that during her journey several persons of her suite had been sent into exile, and that she was in very bad humour. At last, about the middle of August, she reached Koselsk, and we remained there with her till the end of the month. While there, the people played at faro from morning till night, in a large hall in the centre of the house, and they played high. We were all much cramped in point of space. My mother and I slept in the same room, the Countess Roumianzoff and the Lady-in-waiting on my mother in the ante-chamber, and so on with the others. One day, when the Grand Duke came into our room, my mother was writing, while her casket lay open at her side. The Duke, from curiosity, wanted to rummage in the casket; my mother told him not to touch it; and, in point of fact, he moved away and went capering about the place. But while leaping here and there in order to make me laugh, he caught the lid of the casket and upset it. Then my mother got angry, and hard words passed between them. She accused him of having upset the casket on purpose; he denied this, and complained of her injustice. Both appealed to me. Knowing my mother’s temper, I was afraid of getting my ears boxed if I did not side with her; and, on the other hand, I did not wish to tell a falsehood or displease the Grand Duke, so that I was between two fires. However, I told my mother that I did not think the Duke had done it intentionally, but that, while leaping, his dress had caught the lid of the casket, which stood on a very small stool. Then my mother took me in hand, for when she was angry she must have some one to find fault with. I was silent and began to cry. The Grand Duke finding that all my mother’s anger fell upon me, because I had testified in his favour, and seeing me in tears, accused her of injustice and of being mad with passion; to which she retorted by calling him a very ill-behaved little boy. In a word, it would have been difficult to go farther than they did without actually coming to blows. From this moment the Grand Duke took a dislike to my mother; nor did he ever forget this quarrel. She, on the other hand, retained a grudge against him, and their behaviour to each other tended to produce restraint, distrust, and bitterness. They seldom concealed their feelings when with me, and it was in vain that I sought to soften them towards each other. I never succeeded beyond the moment, and that but rarely. They had always some sarcasm ready for annoyance, and my situation became every day more painful. I tried to obey the one and please the other; and, indeed, at that time the Grand Duke gave me his confidence more completely than he did to any one else; for he saw that my mother often took me to task, when she was unable to fasten upon him. This, of course, did me no harm in his estimation, for he felt that he could count upon me.

Finally, on the 29th of August we reached Kiev. We remained there ten days, and then set out for Moscow, travelling in precisely the same manner as before.

Having arrived at Moscow, the entire autumn was passed in dramatic representations, ballets, and court masquerades. In spite of all this, however, it was evident that the Empress was often in bad humour. One day while at the theatre, my mother, the Grand Duke, and I, being in a box opposite her Majesty, I perceived the Empress speaking very warmly and angrily to Count Lestocq. When she had ended, the Count left her and came to our box. Approaching me he said, “Have you seen how the Empress spoke to me?” I answered that I had. “Very well, then,” he said; “she is very angry with you.” “With me! and why?” I replied. “Because,” he said, “you are much in debt. She says that wells may be dried up; that when she was a princess she had no greater allowance than you have, though she had an establishment to provide for; and that she took care not to get into debt, because she knew that no one would pay for her.” All this he uttered in a dry tone and with an air of displeasure, apparently that the Empress might see from her box how he had executed his commission. Tears came into my eyes, and I was silent. Having finished what he had to say, the Count departed. The Grand Duke, who was seated at my side, heard most of the conversation; and after questioning me relative to the remainder, he gave me to understand, rather by looks than words, that he agreed with his aunt and was not sorry I had been scolded. This was his general way of acting, and he fancied he should thus render himself agreeable to the Empress by entering into her views when she was angry with any one. My mother also, when she learnt what had happened, said it was only the natural consequence of the pains that had been taken to withdraw me from her control; and that since they had put me in a condition to act without consulting her, she should wash her hands of the matter. Thus they both took part against me.

As for me, I determined instantly to put my affairs into order; and the next morning I called for my accounts. From these I found that I was in debt to the amount of 17,000 roubles. Before leaving Moscow for Kiev, the Empress had sent me 15,000 roubles and a large chest of simple dresses; but it was necessary for me to be richly dressed, so that, everything reckoned, I owed 2,000 roubles, and this did not appear to me an unreasonable sum. Different causes had thrown me into these expenses.

In the first place, I had arrived in Russia very badly provided for. If I had three or four dresses in the world, it was the very outside; and this at a court where people changed their dress three times a-day. A dozen chemises constituted the whole of my linen, and I had to use my mother’s sheets.

In the second place, I had been told that in Russia people liked presents; and that generosity was the best means of acquiring friends and making one’s self agreeable.

Thirdly, they had placed with me the most extravagant woman in Russia, the Countess Roumianzoff, who was always surrounded with tradesmen, and constantly showing me a variety of things which she induced me to purchase, and which I often purchased merely to present them to her, as I knew she was eager to have them.

The Grand Duke also cost me not a little, for he was fond of presents.

Besides, I had found out that my mother’s ill-humour was easily appeased by the present of anything that pleased her; and as she was often out of temper, and especially with me, I did not neglect this means of soothing her. Her ill-humour arose in part from her being on such a bad footing with the Empress, and from the fact that her Majesty often subjected her to annoyances and humiliations. Besides, heretofore, I had always followed her; and now she could not without displeasure see me take precedence of her. I carefully avoided doing so, whenever it was possible; but in public it could not be avoided. In general, I had made it a rule to pay her the greatest respect, and treat her with all possible deference; but it was of no use, she had always and on all occasions some disagreeable remark to make, a thing which did not do her much good or prepossess people in her favour.

The Countess Roumianzoff, by her scandals and gossippings, contributed much—as did many others—to prejudice my mother in the opinion of the Empress. That carriage for eight, during the journey to Kiev, had also much to do with this result. All the old had been excluded; all the young admitted. God only knows what was tortured out of this arrangement, harmless as it was in itself. What was most evident was, that it had displeased all those who by their rank were entitled to admission, but were, nevertheless, set aside for the sake of more amusing companions. But the real foundation of all this trouble was the exclusion of Betzky and the Troubetzkoys, in whom my mother had most confidence during the journey to Kiev. Brummer and the Countess Roumianzoff had also, no doubt, contributed to it; and the carriage for eight, into which they had not been admitted, was a source of rancour.

In the month of November, the Grand Duke took the measles, at Moscow. As I had not had them, care was taken to prevent me from catching them. Those who were about the Prince did not come near us, and all diversions ceased. As soon as the disease had passed off, and the winter fully set in, we left Moscow for St. Petersburg, in sledges; my mother and me in one, the Grand Duke and Brummer in another. We celebrated the birthday of the Empress, the 18th of December, at Tver, and the next day continued our journey. Having reached the town of Chotilovo—about midway—the Grand Duke, while in my room in the evening, became unwell. He was led to his own apartments, and put to bed. He had considerable fever during the night. At noon, the next day, my mother and I went to see him; but I had scarcely passed the threshold when Count Brummer advanced towards me, and desired me not to proceed farther. I asked the reason, and learnt that indications of small-pox had just manifested themselves. As I had not had the disease, my mother instantly hurried me out of the room; and it was decided that she and I should set off the same day for St. Petersburg, leaving the Duke and his suite at Chotilovo. The Countess Roumianzoff and the lady in attendance on my mother remained there also, to nurse the invalid, they said.

A courier, despatched to the Empress, had already preceded us, and was by this time at St. Petersburg. At some distance from Novogorod, we met the Empress herself, who, having learnt that the Grand Duke had taken the small-pox, was on her way from St. Petersburg to Chotilovo, where she remained as long as the disease lasted. As soon as she perceived us, though it was in the middle of the night, she stopped her sledge and ours to make inquiries concerning the condition of the Duke. My mother told her all she knew, and she then bade the driver proceed, while we continued our journey, and reached Novogorod towards morning.

It was a Sunday, and I went to mass, after which we dined; and just as we were about to start again, the Chamberlain, Prince Galitzine, and the Gentleman of the Bedchamber, Zachar Czernicheff, arrived from Moscow, on their way to St. Petersburg. My mother was angry with the Prince because he was in company with Count Czernicheff, who had told some falsehood or other. She maintained that he ought to be avoided as a dangerous character, who indulged in gratuitous fabrications. She sulked with them both; but as this sulking was dreadfully wearisome, as, besides, there was no choice in the matter, and as these two gentlemen were better informed and had more conversational powers than any of the others, I did not join in these sulks, and this drew upon me some unpleasant remarks from my mother.

At last we reached St. Petersburg, and took up our residence in one of the houses attached to the court. The palace, at that time, was not sufficiently large to allow even the Grand Duke to reside there, so that he occupied a house situated between the palace and ours. My apartments were at the left of the palace, my mother’s at the right. As soon as she saw this arrangement, she became angry: first, because she thought my rooms better situated than her own; secondly, because hers were separated from mine by a common hall. In point of fact, we each had four rooms, two in front and two facing the court-yard of the house. The rooms were equal in size, and furnished exactly alike, the furniture being blue and red. But what chiefly contributed to annoy my mother was the circumstance which I am going to mention. While we were at Moscow, the Countess Roumianzoff had brought me the plan of this house by direction of the Empress, forbidding me, in her name, to speak of the matter, and consulting me as to how my mother and myself should be respectively placed. There was no choice in the case, for the two sets of apartments were in all respects equal. I said so to the Countess, and she gave me to understand that the Empress preferred my having separate rooms to occupying, as at Moscow, the same apartments as my mother. This change pleased me also, for I was much inconvenienced in being with my mother, and, in fact, no one liked the arrangement. My mother in some way got to hear of the plan that had been shown me. She spoke to me on the subject, and I told the simple truth, just as the matter had occurred. She scolded me for the secrecy I had maintained. I said I had been forbidden to speak; but she would not admit the validity of this reason, and altogether I saw that from day to day, she became more and more displeased with me, and, in fact, she had managed to quarrel with almost every one, so that she now scarcely ever came to table, either for dinner or supper, but was served in her own room. As for me, I went to her apartments three or four times a-day. The rest of my time was spent in learning Russian, in playing on the harpsichord, and in reading, for I had bought myself books; so that at fifteen I was retired, and tolerably studious for my age.

Towards the close of our stay at Moscow, a Swedish embassy arrived, at the head of which was the Senator Cedercreutz. A short time afterwards, the Count Gyllenburg also arrived, to announce to the Empress the marriage of the Prince of Sweden, my mother’s brother, with a Swedish princess. Count Gyllenburg, and many other Swedes, became known to us at the time of the Prince Royal’s departure for Sweden. He was a man of talent, no longer young, and my mother thought very highly of him. For myself, I was, in some respects, under obligations to him; for at Hamburg, seeing that my mother made little or no account of me, he told her she was wrong, and assured her that I was a child much beyond my age. On his arrival at St. Petersburg, he visited us, and as he had told me, while at Hamburg, that I had a very philosophical turn of mind, he asked me how it fared with my philosophy in the vortex in which I was placed. I told him how I passed my time in my room. He replied that a philosopher of fifteen could not know herself, and that I was surrounded by so many rocks that I ran great danger of being wrecked, unless the temper of my mind was of a very superior stamp; that I ought, therefore, to fortify it by the study of the best works, such as the Lives of Plutarch, that of Cicero, and the Causes of the Greatness and Decay of the Roman Republic, by Montesquieu. I immediately ordered those books to be procured for me, and there was considerable difficulty in finding them in St. Petersburg at that period. I told the Count that I would trace my portrait for him, such as I supposed it, that he might see whether or not I really did understand myself.

I did, in fact, trace out this portrait in writing, and gave it to him under the following title:—“A Portrait of the Philosopher of Fifteen.” Many years afterwards, viz., in the year 1758, I turned up this portrait; and I was astonished at the accuracy and depth of self-knowledge which it evinced. Unfortunately I burnt it that same year, with all my other papers, fearing to keep a single one in my room, at the time of the unfortunate affair of Bestoujeff.

Count Gyllenburg returned my manuscript a few days afterwards. I do not know whether he took a copy. He accompanied it by some dozen pages of reflections which he had made relative to me. In these he endeavoured to strengthen my character in firmness and elevation of mind, as well as in all the other qualities of the head and heart. I read his remarks again and again, many times. I impressed them on my mind, and determined very sincerely to follow his advice. I made a promise to myself that I would do so, and when once I have made a promise to myself, I do not remember ever having failed in keeping it. Finally, I returned the manuscript to the Count as he had requested, and I confess that it has been of great service to me in forming and strengthening my mind and character.

In the beginning of February, the Empress returned from Chotilovo with the Grand Duke. As soon as we had heard of her arrival we went to receive her, and met her in the great hall, between four and five o’clock in the evening, when it was nearly dark. Notwithstanding the obscurity, however, I was almost terrified at beholding the Grand Duke. He had grown very much, but his features were scarcely to be recognized; they had all enlarged; the whole face was still swelled, and it was quite evident that he would remain deeply marked. As his hair had been cut off, he wore an immense wig, which greatly added to his disfigurement. He came to me, and asked if I did not find it difficult to recognize him. I stammered out my congratulations upon his convalescence, but in truth he had grown frightful.

On the 9th of February, 1745, a year had passed since my arrival at the court of Russia. On the 10th, the Empress celebrated the birthday of the Grand Duke. He had now entered his seventeenth year. On this occasion, I dined with her Majesty. She dined upon the throne, and I was the only guest. The Grand Duke did not appear in public that day, nor for a long time afterwards; they were in no hurry to show him in the condition in which the small-pox had left him. The Empress was very gracious during dinner. She told me that the letters I had written to her in Russian, while she was at Chotilovo, had very much pleased her (to tell the truth, they were the composition of M. Adadourof, though I had copied them out;) and she also said she had been informed that I took great pains to acquire the language of the country. She spoke to me in Russian, and wished me to reply to her in that language, which I did; and then she was pleased to praise my correct pronunciation. Finally, she told me that I had grown handsomer since my illness at Moscow. In fact, during the whole time of dinner, she was occupied in giving me marks of her kindness and affection. I returned home highly delighted with my dinner, and received congratulations on all sides. The Empress had my portrait, which the painter Caravaque had commenced, brought to her, and she kept it in her own room. It is the one which the sculptor Falconnet has carried with him to France. At the time, it was a speaking likeness.

In going to mass, or to the Empress, my mother and I had to pass through the apartments of the Grand Duke, which were situated near mine; we therefore often saw him. He also was in the habit of coming of an evening, to pass some moments with me; but there was no eagerness in these visits. On the contrary, he was always glad of any excuse for dispensing with them, and remaining at home, occupied with the childish amusements already mentioned.

A short time after the arrival of the Empress and Grand Duke at St. Petersburg, my mother met with a serious annoyance, which she could not conceal.

Prince Augustus, her brother, had written to her at Kiev, expressing his great desire to visit Russia. She had learnt that the only object of this journey was to have the administration of the territory of Holstein conferred upon him as soon as the Grand Duke became of age; and it was proposed to advance the period of his majority. In other words, it was wished to take the guardianship out of the hands of the elder brother, now become Prince Royal of Sweden, in order to give the administration of the territory of Holstein, in the name of the Grand Duke, then of age, to Prince Augustus, the younger brother of my mother and of the Prince Royal of Sweden.

This intrigue had been formed by the Holstein party, which was opposed to the Prince Royal, joined by the Danes, who could not pardon this Prince for having prevailed, in Sweden, over the Prince Royal of Denmark, whom the Dalecarlians wished to elect as successor to the throne of Sweden. My mother replied to Prince Augustus from Koselsk, telling him, that instead of lending himself to intrigues directed against his brother, it would be better for him to enter the service of Holland, where he was, and die with honour, rather than cabal against his brother and join the enemies of his sister in Russia. My mother had here reference to Count Bestoujeff, who encouraged all this intrigue in order to injure Brummer, and all the other friends of the Prince Royal of Sweden, the guardian of the Grand Duke for Holstein. This letter was opened, and read by the Count and the Empress, who was by no means pleased with my mother, and very much irritated against the Prince Royal of Sweden, who, led by his wife, sister of the King of Prussia, had allowed himself to be carried away by the French party in all their views, a party in every way opposed to Russia. He was accused of ingratitude, and my mother of want of affection for her younger brother, because she had told him to die (se faire tuer), an expression which was treated as harsh and inhuman; while my mother, in the company of her friends, boasted of having used a firm and sounding phrase. The result of all this was, that without any regard for my mother’s feelings, or rather to mortify her and annoy the Holstein-Swedish party, Count Bestoujeff obtained permission, unknown to my mother, for Prince Augustus of Holstein to visit St. Petersburg. My mother, when she learnt that he was on his way, was extremely annoyed and grieved, and received him very coldly. But he, pushed on by Bestoujeff, ran his course. The Empress was persuaded to give him a favourable reception, which she did in appearance. This, however, did not last, and could not last, for Prince Augustus was not in himself a person of any consequence. Even his external appearance was against him. He was very small, and badly made, passionate, and with but little talent, and entirely led by his followers, who were themselves quite insignificant. His stupidity, since I must speak out, very much annoyed my mother, and, altogether, his arrival nearly drove her crazy.

Count Bestoujeff, having obtained a control over the mind of the Prince by means of his followers, killed many birds with one stone. He could not be ignorant that the Grand Duke hated Brummer as much as he did himself. Prince Augustus did not like him either, because he was attached to the Prince Royal of Sweden, under pretence of relationship and as a native of Holstein. Prince Augustus ingratiated himself with the Grand Duke by constantly talking to him about Holstein and his coming majority, so that he induced him to urge his aunt and Count Bestoujeff to advance the period. To do this, however, it was necessary to have the consent of the Roman Emperor, who, at that time, was Charles VII, of the House of Bavaria. But, meantime, he died, and the matter dragged on till the election of Francis I.

As Prince Augustus had been coldly received by my mother, and, in return, manifested but little consideration for her, this circumstance also contributed to diminish the slight remains of respect which the Grand Duke entertained for her. On the other hand, both Prince Augustus and the old valet, the favourite of the Grand Duke, fearing, seemingly, my future influence, often talked to him about the manner in which he ought to treat his wife. Romberg, an old Swedish dragoon, told him that his wife dared not speak in his presence nor meddle with his affairs; and that if she only attempted to open her mouth even, he ordered her to hold her tongue; that he was master in his own house, and that it was disgraceful for a husband to allow himself to be led by his wife like a booby.

Now the Grand Duke had about as much discretion as a cannon ball, and, when his mind was full of anything, he could not rest until he had unburdened it to the persons he was in the habit of talking with, never for a moment considering to whom it was he spoke. Consequently he used to tell me all these things, with the utmost frankness, the first time he saw me afterwards. He always fancied that every one was of his opinion, and that nothing could be more reasonable than all this. I took good care not to speak of these things to any one; but they made me reflect very seriously upon the fate which awaited me. I determined to husband carefully the confidence of the Grand Duke, in order that he might at least consider me as a person of whom he felt sure, and to whom he could confide everything without the least inconvenience to himself; and in this I succeeded for a long time. Besides, I treated every one in the best way I could, and studied how to gain the friendship, or at least to lessen the enmity of those whom I in any way suspected of being badly disposed to me. I showed no leaning to any side, nor meddled with anything; always maintained a serene air, treated every one with great attention, affability, and politeness, and, as I was naturally very gay, I saw with pleasure that from day to day I advanced in the general esteem, and was looked upon as an interesting child, and one by no means wanting in mind. I showed great respect for my mother, a boundless obedience for the Empress, and the most profound deference for the Grand Duke; and I sought with the most anxious care to gain the affection of the public.

From the period of our visit to Moscow, the Empress had assigned me some ladies and gentlemen who formed my court. A short time after my arrival at St. Petersburg she gave me some Russian maids, in order, as she said, to aid me in acquiring increased facility in the use of the language. This arrangement pleased me very much; for these persons were all young, the oldest of them being only about twenty; all, too, were very lively, so that from that time I did nothing but sing, dance, and play in my room, from the moment I awoke in the morning till I went to sleep again at night. In the evening, after supper, I brought into my bed-room my three maids, the two Princesses Gagarine and Mademoiselle Koucheleff, and we played at blind-man’s buff and all sorts of games suited to our age. All these ladies mortally feared the Countess Roumianzoff; but as she played at cards from morning till night, either in the ante-chamber or in her own room, never leaving her chair, except from necessity, she rarely came near us.

In the midst of our mirth, the fancy seized me to distribute among my women the care of all my effects. I placed my money, my expenditure, and my linen in the charge of Mademoiselle Schenck, the lady’s-maid whom I had brought from Germany; she was a silly and querulous old maid, to whom our gaiety was extremely annoying; and besides that, she was jealous of all these young companions who were about to share her functions and my affection. I gave all my jewels to Mademoiselle Joukoff; she having more intelligence and being more gay and frank than the others, began to gain my favour. My clothes I entrusted to my valet Timothy Yevreinoff; my lace to Mademoiselle Balkoff, who afterwards married the poet Soumarokoff; my ribbons to the elder Mademoiselle Scorochodov, since married to Aristarchus Kachkine; her younger sister Anne having nothing, as she was only between thirteen and fourteen years old.

The day after this grand arrangement, in which I had exercised my central power within the limits of my own chamber, and without consulting a living soul, there were theatricals in the evening. To go to them, it was necessary to pass through my mother’s apartments. The Empress, the Grand Duke, and the whole court were there. A little theatre had been erected in a riding-school, which, in the time of the Empress Anne, had been used by the Duke of Courland, whose apartments I now occupied. After the play, when the Empress had retired, the Countess Roumianzoff came into my room, and told me that the Empress disapproved of the arrangement I had made in distributing the care of my effects among my women, and that she was ordered to withdraw the keys of my jewels out of the hands of Mademoiselle Joukoff, and restore them to Mademoiselle Schenck, which she did in my presence, and then departed, leaving Mademoiselle Joukoff and me with faces somewhat elongated, and Mademoiselle Schenck triumphing in the marked confidence of the Empress. She began to assume with me arrogant airs, which made her more ridiculous than ever, and even less amiable than she had been before.

The first week of Lent I had a singular scene with the Grand Duke. In the morning, while in my room with my maids, who were all very devout, listening to matins, which were sung in the ante-chamber, I received an embassy from the Grand Duke. He had sent me his dwarf to inquire how I was, and to tell me that, on account of its being Lent, he should not visit me that day. The dwarf found us all listening to the prayers, and fulfilling exactly the prescriptions of Lent, according to our creed. I returned the usual compliments to the Duke, through his dwarf, who then departed. When he got back, whether it was that he had really been edified by what he had seen, or that he wished his dear lord and master, who was anything but devout, to do the same, he passed a high eulogium upon the devotion which reigned in my apartments, and, by doing so, put the Duke in a very bad humour with me. The first time we met he began by sulking. Having asked the cause of this, he scolded me very much for what he called the excessive devotion to which I gave myself up. When I asked who had told him this, he named his dwarf as an eye-witness of it. I told him I did no more than was proper, only what every one else did, and what could not be dispensed with without scandal; but he thought differently. The dispute ended as most disputes do, by leaving each one with his own opinion; but, as his Imperial Highness had no one but me to speak to during mass, he gradually left off pouting.

Two days after, I had another alarm. In the morning, while matins were being sung in my apartments, Mademoiselle Schenck entered my room in great consternation, telling me that my mother had been taken ill, and had fainted. I instantly ran to her, and found her lying on the ground on a mattress, but not unconscious. I ventured to ask her what was the matter. She told me, that wishing to be bled, the surgeon was so clumsy as to miss four times, having tried both arms and both feet, and that she had fainted. I knew that she dreaded bleeding; I was ignorant of her intention in wishing to be bled, and did not even know that she stood in need of it. Yet she reproached me with caring little for her condition, and said many disagreeable things on the subject. I excused myself in the best way I could, acknowledging my ignorance; but, seeing that she was in a very bad humour, I became silent, and endeavoured to restrain my tears, nor did I leave her till she had desired me to do so with some degree of harshness. On my return to my room, in tears, my maids wanted to know what was the matter, and I told them quite simply. I went several times during the day to my mother’s room, and remained there as long as I thought I could do so without being troublesome. This was a capital point with her, to which I was so well accustomed, that there is nothing I have so carefully avoided during my life as remaining with any one longer than I was wanted. I have made it a point instantly to retire whenever the least suspicion crossed my mind that my farther stay would be an inconvenience. But I know by experience that every one does not act upon the same principle, for my own patience has often been put to the test by those who do not know how to go away before they have worn out their welcome or become a source of weariness.

In the course of the Lent, my mother had a grief which was very real. At a time when it was least expected, she received the news of the sudden death of my younger sister, Elizabeth, a child only between three and four years old. She was very much afflicted, and I grieved also.

One morning, some few days afterwards, I saw the Empress come into my room. She sent for my mother, and they retired to my dressing-room, where they had a long and private conversation; after which they returned into my bed-room, and I saw that my mother’s eyes were red and filled with tears. From the sequence of the conversation I understood that they had been talking about the death of the Emperor Charles VII, of the house of Bavaria, the news of which had just reached the Empress. Her Majesty was then without alliance, and she hesitated between Prussia and the house of Austria, each of which had their partisans. She had the same complaint against Austria as against France, towards which the King of Prussia leaned, for the Marquis de Botta, the minister of the court of Vienna had been sent away from Russia for speaking against the Empress—an act which at the time it was sought to represent as a conspiracy. The Marquis de la Chétardie had been similarly dismissed for the same reasons. I do not know what was the object of this conversation, but my mother seemed to conceive great hopes from it, and went away very well satisfied. As for me, I was in all this simply a spectator, and one, too, very passive, very discreet, and pretty nearly indifferent.

After Easter, when the spring had fully set in, I expressed to the Countess Roumianzoff the desire I had to learn to ride, and she obtained the consent of the Empress. I had begun to have pains in the chest at the commencement of the year, after the pleurisy I had had in Moscow, and I was still very thin. The doctors ordered me milk and Seltzer water every morning. It was at Roumianzoff House, in the barracks of the Ismaïlofsky regiment, that I took my first lesson in riding. I had already ridden several times at Moscow, but very badly.

In the month of May, the Empress, with the Grand Duke, went to occupy the Summer Palace. To my mother and I had been assigned a stone building, by the side of the Fontanka, close to the house of Peter I. My mother occupied one side of this building, and I the other. Here ended all the assiduities of the Grand Duke; he told me quite plainly, and through a servant, that he now lived too far off to come and see me often. I fully perceived his want of interest, and how little I was cared for. My self-esteem and vanity grieved in silence, but I was too proud to complain. I should have thought myself degraded if any one had shown me a friendship which I could have taken for pity. Nevertheless, I shed tears when alone, then quietly dried them up, and went to romp with my maids. My mother also treated me with great coldness and ceremony, but I never missed visiting her several times during the day. At heart I felt very sad, but I took care not to speak of this. However, Mademoiselle Joukoff one day perceived my tears, and spoke to me on the subject. I gave her the best reasons I could, without however giving her the true ones. I laboured more earnestly than before to gain the affection of every one. Great or small, I neglected no one, but laid it down to myself as a rule to believe that I stood in need of every one, and so to act in consequence as to obtain the good will of all; and I succeeded in doing so.

After some days’ stay in the Summer Palace, where people began to speak of the preparations for my marriage, the court removed to Peterhoff, where it was more concentrated than in the city. The Empress and the Grand Duke occupied the upper portion of the house built by Peter I; my mother and I were beneath, in the apartments of the Grand Duke. We dined with him every day, under a tent, upon the open gallery adjoining his apartments; he supped with us. The Empress was often absent, moving about among her different country residences. We were out a good deal, walking, riding, or driving. I then saw as clear as day, that the persons about the Grand Duke had lost all credit with him, and all control over him. The military games, which he formerly carried on in private, he now enacted almost in their presence. Count Brummer and his head master scarcely ever saw him, except to follow him in public. The rest of his time was literally passed, in the company of his valets, in acts of childishness unheard of at his age, for he played at puppets.

My mother took advantage of the absences of the Empress to go and sup at the neighbouring mansions, and especially at that of the Prince and Princess of Hesse-Homburg. One evening when she had ridden out there, I was sitting, after supper, in my room, which was on a level with the garden, one of the doors leading into it, when I felt tempted by the fine weather. I proposed to my maids and my three ladies of honour to take a walk in the garden; and I had no great trouble in persuading them. We were eight, and my valet, who made nine, followed us with two other valets. We walked about till midnight in the most innocent manner possible. My mother having returned, Mademoiselle Schenck, who had refused to accompany us, and grumbled at our project, was in a great hurry to tell her that I had gone out against her advice. My mother went to bed, and when I got back with my troop, Mademoiselle Schenck told me, with an air of triumph, that my mother had sent twice to inquire if I had returned, as she wished to speak to me; but that as it was very late, and she tired of waiting, she had gone to bed. I would have instantly gone to her, but I found the door closed. I told Schenck that she might have had me called. She pretended that she had not been able to find us; but this was a mere story to make a quarrel, and get me scolded; I saw this clearly, and went to bed with a good deal of uneasiness. The following day, as soon as I awoke, I went to my mother and found her in bed. I approached to kiss her hand, but she angrily withdrew it, and gave me a dreadful scolding for having dared to walk out at night without her permission. I said she was not at home; but she replied that the hour was improper, and said all sorts of disagreeable things, for the purpose, seemingly, of giving me a distaste for nocturnal promenades. This, however, is certain, that although this walk may have been an imprudence, nothing could have been more innocent. What most distressed me was, that she accused me of having gone up to the apartments of the Grand Duke. I replied that this was an abominable calumny, at which she became so enraged that she seemed out of herself. It was in vain that I went on my knees to soothe her irritation. She treated my submission as acting, and ordered me out of the room. I retired to my own apartments in tears. At dinner-time I ascended with her, she still being very angry, to the apartments of the Grand Duke, who inquired what was the matter, as my eyes were very red. I told him exactly what had happened. This time he took my part, and accused my mother of being capricious and passionate. I begged him not to speak to her on the subject, which request he complied with, and by degrees her anger wore off; but I was always treated very coldly. We left Peterhoff at the end of July, and returned to the city, where all was preparation for the approaching marriage.

At last the Empress fixed the 21st of August for the ceremony. As the day came nearer, I became more and more melancholy. My heart predicted but little happiness; ambition alone sustained me. In my inmost soul there was a something which never allowed me to doubt for a single moment that sooner or later I should become the sovereign Empress of Russia in my own right.

The marriage was celebrated with much pomp and magnificence. In the evening I found in my room Madame Krause, sister of the head lady’s-maid to the Empress, who had placed her with me as my head lady’s-maid. From the very next day I found that this person had thrown all my other women into consternation, for on approaching one of them to speak to her, as usual, she said to me, “In God’s name, do not come near me; we have been forbidden to whisper to you.” On the other hand, my beloved spouse did not trouble himself in the slightest degree about me, but was constantly with his valets, playing at soldiers, exercising them in his room, or changing his uniform twenty times a-day. I yawned, and grew weary, having no one to speak to; or I endeavoured to keep up appearances. On the third day after my marriage, the Countess Roumianzoff Sent me word that the Empress had dispensed with her attendance on me, and that she was going to return home to her husband and children. This did not grieve me much, for she had been the cause of a great deal of scandal.

The marriage festivities lasted ten days, at the end of which the Grand Duke and myself took up our residence in the Summer Palace, where the Empress was living; and the departure of my mother was beginning to be talked of. Since my marriage I did not see her every day; but she had very much softened towards me. About the latter end of September she took her departure, the Grand Duke and I accompanying her as far as Krasnoe-Selo. I was sincerely afflicted, and wept a great deal. After taking leave of her we returned to the city. On reaching the palace I called for Mademoiselle Joukoff. I was told that she had gone to see her mother who was ill. The next day I put the same question, and received the same answer. About noon the Empress passed with great pomp from the Summer to the Winter Palace. We followed her to her apartments. Having reached the state bed-room she stopped, and, after some casual remarks, spoke of my mother’s departure, and told me, with apparent kindness, to moderate my grief. But I thought I should have dropped when she said, in the presence of some thirty people, that at my mother’s request she had dismissed from my service Mademoiselle Joukoff, because my mother feared I might become too much attached to a person who so little deserved my favour; and then her Majesty spoke very pointedly against the poor girl. I certainly was no way edified with this scene, nor convinced of what her Majesty advanced; but I was deeply afflicted at the misfortune of poor Joukoff, dismissed from court solely because, from her sociable disposition, she suited me better than my other women. “For why,” as I said to myself, “was she placed with me if she was not worthy?” My mother could not know her, could not even speak to her, as she did not understand Russian, the only language with which Joukoff was acquainted; she could only have been guided by the silly remarks of Schenck, who scarcely possessed common sense. This girl suffers for me, I said to myself; I must not, therefore, abandon her in her misfortune, of which my affection has been the sole cause. I have never been able to learn whether or not my mother really had requested the Empress to dismiss this person from my service; if so, she must have preferred violent measures to those of mildness, for she never opened her lips to me in reference to the girl; and yet a single word from her would have been sufficient to put me on my guard, at least, against an attachment in itself very innocent. The Empress, also, might have acted with less austerity. The girl was young: it was only necessary to have found a suitable match for her, which might easily have been done; but instead of this they acted in the manner I have mentioned.

The Empress having dismissed us, the Grand Duke and I proceeded to our own apartments. On our way, I perceived that her Majesty had already acquainted her nephew with what she had done. I stated to him my objections on the subject, and made him understand that this girl was unfortunate solely because it was supposed that I had a liking for her; and that since she was suffering on account of my affection, I thought myself justified in not abandoning her, as far, at all events, as depended on myself. In fact, I immediately sent her some money, through my valet; but he informed me that she had already departed for Moscow with her mother and sister. I ordered what I had destined for her to be sent through her brother, who was a sergeant in the guards. I learnt that he also, together with his wife, had been ordered away, and that he had been placed as an officer in a country regiment. At the present time I am scarcely able to give any plausible explanation of these things; it seems to me like doing wrong gratis, and from mere caprice, without a shadow of reason, or even of pretext. But matters did not stop even here. Through my valet and my other attendants, I endeavoured to find for Mademoiselle Joukoff a suitable match. One was proposed to me: it was a sergeant in the guards, a gentleman of some property, named Travin. He went to Moscow to marry her, provided she suited him. He did marry her, and was made lieutenant in a country regiment. As soon as the Empress heard of this, she banished them both to Astracan. It is difficult to find a reason for such persecution.

At the Winter Palace, the Grand Duke and I occupied the apartments which we had previously used; those of the Duke were separated from mine by an immense staircase, which also led to the apartments of the Empress. In going to him, or in his coming to me, it was necessary to cross the landing of this staircase—not the pleasantest thing in the world, especially in winter. Nevertheless, we made the passage several times a-day. In the evening, I went to play at billiards in his ante-chamber with the Chamberlain Berkholz, while he romped with his gentlemen in the other room. My party at billiards was interrupted by the retirement of Brummer and Berkholz, whom the Empress dismissed from attendance on the Grand Duke, at the end of the winter of 1746. This winter was passed in masquerades given at the principal houses in the city, which were then very small. The court and the whole town assisted at them regularly.

The last of them was given by the Master-General of the Police, Tatizcheff, in a house called Smolnoy Dvoretz, belonging to the Empress. The centre portion of this wooden house had been destroyed by a fire; nothing remained but the wings, which were of two stories. One of these wings was set apart for dancing; but in order to go to supper, which was laid out in the other, it was necessary to pass, and this in the month of January, through the court-yard and the snow. After supper this journey had to be repeated. The Grand Duke returned home, and went to bed, but the next morning he awoke with a violent headache, which prevented him from rising. I sent for the doctors, who pronounced him in a burning fever of the most violent kind. He was carried in the evening from my bed to the audience-chamber, where, after being bled, he was placed in a bed arranged there for him. They bled him several times; he was very ill. The Empress visited him frequently during the day, and seeing me in tears, she was pleased with me. One evening, while reading the night-prayers in a small oratory adjoining my dressing-room, Madame Ismaïloff came in. She was a person of whom the Empress was very fond, and she informed me that her Majesty, knowing I was much afflicted by the illness of the Duke, had sent her to tell me not to be cast down, but to put my trust in God, and that whatever happened she would not forsake me. She then asked me what I was reading; I told her the prayers for night, and she said I should hurt my eyes by reading such small print by candle-light. I then begged her to thank her Imperial Majesty for her goodness towards me, and we parted very affectionately, she to give an account of her mission, I to go to bed. Next day the Empress sent me a prayer-book printed in large type, in order to preserve my eyes, she said.

Although the room in which the Grand Duke was placed adjoined mine, I never entered it except when I felt that I should not be in the way, for I saw that he did not care much to have me there, but preferred being with his attendants, who, on the other hand, did not much suit me. Besides, I was not much accustomed to pass my time alone among a set of men. Meanwhile, Lent came round. I went to my duty (fis mes dévotions)[5] the first week. Generally speaking, I was inclined to devotion at that period. I saw plainly that the Grand Duke cared little about me. A fortnight after our marriage he confessed to me again that he was in love with Mademoiselle Carr, Maid of Honour to her Imperial Majesty, since married to a Prince Galitzine, Equery to the Empress. He told Count Devier,[6] his Chamberlain, that there was no comparison between that lady and me. Devier maintained the contrary, and the Duke got angry with him. This scene took place almost in my presence, and I witnessed their contest. Surely, I said to myself, it would be impossible for me not to be unhappy with such a man as this, were I to give way to sentiments of tenderness thus requited. I might die of jealousy without benefit to any one. I endeavoured therefore to master my feelings, so as not to be jealous of a man who did not love me. Had he wished to be loved, I should have found no difficulty in loving him. I was naturally well disposed, and accustomed to fulfil my duties; but then, too, I should have required a husband who had common sense, which this one had not.

I had abstained[7] (fait maigre) during the first week of Lent. On the Saturday, the Empress sent me word that it would give her pleasure if I abstained during the second week also. I replied that I begged her Majesty would permit me to abstain during the entire Lent. Sievers, Marshal of the Court to the Empress, a son-in-law to Madame Krause, who was the bearer of this message, told me that the Empress was greatly pleased with my request, and that she granted it. When the Grand Duke learned that I continued to abstain, he scolded me a good deal; but I told him I could not do otherwise. After he had got well, he still feigned illness in order not to leave his room, where he found more congenial amusement than in the formal life of the court. He did not quit it till the last week of Lent, when he went to his duty.

After Easter, he had a marionette theatre set up in his room, and invited company to see it, and even ladies. This show was the most insipid thing imaginable. The room in which it was set up had a door which was fastened up, in consequence of its leading into one of the Empress’ apartments. In this apartment there was a mechanical table, which could be lowered and raised so as to admit of dining without servants. One day, while the Grand Duke was in his room preparing his so-called theatricals, he heard people talking in this room beyond, and, with his usual inconsiderate vivacity, he took up from his theatre one of those carpenters’ tools used for making holes in boards, and set to work boring holes in this condemned door, so that he could see all that passed within, and among other things, the dinner which the Empress was then taking there. The Master of the Hounds, Count Razoumowsky, in a brocaded dressing-gown, dined with her—he had taken medicine that day—and there were, besides, some dozen persons of those most in the confidence of the Empress. The Grand Duke, not content with enjoying the fruit of his skilful labour himself, must needs call all who were about him to share in the pleasure of looking through the holes which he had bored with so much diligence. When all were fully satisfied with this indiscreet pleasure, he came and invited Madame Krause, myself, and my maids, to go to his room and see something which we had never seen before. He did not tell us what it was, doubtless to give us an agreeable surprise. As I did not hurry myself sufficiently to gratify his impatience, he led away Madame Krause and my women. I arrived last, and found them stationed in front of this door, where he had placed benches, chairs, and stools, for the accommodation of the spectators, as he said. On entering, I asked what all this was about. He ran to meet me, and told me what the case was. I was terrified and indignant at his rashness, and told him I would neither look nor have anything to do with this impropriety, which would certainly bring him into trouble if his aunt should come to hear of it, and this she could not well help doing, seeing that there were at least twenty persons in his secret. All who had allowed themselves to look through the door, finding that I would not do the same, began to file off one after the other. The Duke himself became ashamed of what he had done, and recommenced working on his theatre. I returned to my room.

Up to the Sunday, we heard nothing of this affair; but on that day it happened, I hardly know how, that I got to mass rather later than usual. On returning to my room, I was about taking off my court dress, when I saw the Empress enter with a flushed and angry look. As she had not been at the chapel mass, but had heard mass in her private oratory, I went to meet her, to kiss her hand as usual, as I had not seen her before that day. She kissed me, desired the Grand Duke to be sent for, and, while waiting for him, scolded me for being late at mass, and preferring my own adornment to the service of God. She added that in the time of the Empress Anne, though not living at court, but in a house at some distance from the palace, she had never failed in her duties, but often got up by candle-light for this purpose. Then she sent for the valet de chambre who dressed my hair, and told him that for the future, if he was so slow in dressing my hair, she would have him dismissed. When she had ended with him, the Grand Duke, who had undressed in his own room, entered in his dressing-gown, with his night cap in his hand, and with a gay and careless air. He ran to kiss the hand of the Empress, who embraced him, and then asked him how he had dared to act in the manner he had done, adding that she had gone into the room which contained the mechanical table, and found the door all pierced with holes, all these holes being directed towards the place where she usually sat; that he seemed to have forgotten what he owed her; that she could no longer consider him as anything but an ungrateful person; that her father, Peter I., had also an ungrateful son, and that he punished him by disinheriting him; that, in the time of the Empress Anne, she had never failed in giving her the respect due to a crowned head, anointed of the Lord; that the Empress Anne did not understand jokes, but sent to the Fortress those who were wanting in respect; that as for him, he was but a little boy, and she would teach him how to behave. At this he began to get angry, and would have answered her, stammering out a few words to this effect, but she commanded him to be silent, and became so excited that her anger knew no bounds, as was usually the case when she got into a passion. She loaded him with insults, and said all sorts of shocking things, treating him with as much contempt as anger.

We were thunderstruck, and although this scene did not refer directly to me, yet tears came into my eyes. She perceived this, and said to me, “This does not apply to you; I know that you had nothing to do with this act, and that you neither looked nor wished to look through the door.” This remark, which was correct, calmed her a little, and she stopped; besides, it would have been difficult for her to have gone farther than she had done. She then wished us good morning, and retired, with a flushed face and flashing eyes. The Grand Duke went to his room, and I undressed in silence, ruminating on what I had heard. When I had done, the Duke returned, and said to me—in a tone half sheepish, half comical—“She was like a fury, and did not know what she said.” “She was dreadfully angry,” I replied. We talked over the matter, and then dined in my room, quite alone. When the Grand Duke had gone to his own apartments, Madame Krause entered my room. “It must be acknowledged,” she said, “that the Empress has acted like a true mother to-day.” I saw she wished to make me talk, and therefore I said nothing. She continued: “A mother gets angry, scolds her children, and there the matter ends; you ought both of you to have said to her, I beg your pardon, Madame, and you would have disarmed her.” I said I was astounded and petrified by her Majesty’s anger, and all I could do at the moment was to listen and be silent. She then left me, probably to make her report. As for me, the “I beg your pardon, Madame,” as a means of disarming the anger of the Empress, remained in my head; and I have since used it with success, when occasion required, as will be seen in the sequel.

Some time before the Empress had relieved Count Brummer and the Great Chamberlain from attendance on the Grand Duke, I happened one day to go earlier than usual into the ante-chamber. The Count was there alone, and seized the occasion to speak to me. He begged and entreated me to go every day to the Empress’ dressing-room, as my mother, at leaving, had obtained permission for me to do; a privilege of which I had made very little use hitherto, as it was a prerogative which wearied me excessively. I had gone once or twice, and found there the Empress’ women, who retired by degrees, so that I was left alone. I told him this. He said it was of no consequence, I ought to continue. But I could not understand this courtier-like perseverance. It might answer his views, but it did not at all suit me to be kept standing in the Empress’ dressing-room, and be, besides, an inconvenience to her. I stated to him my repugnance, but he did everything to persuade me, though without success. I was much better pleased to be in my own rooms, especially when Madame Krause was not there. I had discovered in her this winter a very decided propensity for drink, and as she soon after got her daughter married to the Marshal of the Court, Sievers, she either was out a good deal, or my people contrived to make her tipsy, when she went to sleep, and my room was delivered from this surly Argus.

Count Brummer and the Grand Chamberlain Berkholz having been relieved from their duties about the Prince, the Empress named as his attendant General Prince Basil Repnine. A better appointment could not have been made, for Prince Repnine was not only a man of honour and probity, he was also a man of talent, a very worthy man, candid and straightforward. For my own-self, I had every reason to be satisfied with the conduct of Prince Repnine. For Count Brummer I felt no regret; he wearied me with his eternal politics, he smelt of intrigue; while the frank and soldier-like character of Prince Repnine inspired me with confidence. As for the Grand Duke, he was delighted to get rid of his pedagogues, whom he hated. In quitting him, however, they left him with no slight anxiety at finding himself at the mercy of the intrigues of Count Bestoujeff, who was the prime mover in all these changes, made under the plausible pretext of the majority of his Imperial Highness in his duchy of Holstein. Prince Augustus, my uncle, was still at St. Petersburg, watching the administration of the Grand Duke’s hereditary territory.

In the month of May we moved to the Summer Palace. At the end of the month the Empress placed with me, as chief housekeeper, Madame Tchoglokoff, one of her maids of honour, and her relative. This was a thunderbolt for me. This lady was altogether in the interest of Count Bestoujeff, extremely silly, spiteful, capricious, and very selfish. Her husband, Chamberlain to the Empress, was then gone on some sort of mission from her Majesty to Vienna. I wept a great deal on seeing her arrive, and all the rest of the day. I was to be bled on the following day. In the morning the Empress came to my room, and seeing my eyes red, said to me that young women who did not love their husbands were always crying; that my mother, however, had assured her I had no repugnance to marrying the Grand Duke; that, besides, she had not forced me; that, as I was married, I must not cry any more. I remembered the instructions of Madame Krause, and said to her, I beg your pardon, Madame, and she was appeased. Meanwhile the Grand Duke came in, and this time the Empress received him very graciously, and then went away. I was bled, and indeed I required it; I then went to bed, and wept the whole day. The next day, the Grand Duke drew me aside in the course of the afternoon, and I saw clearly that they had given him to understand that Madame Tchoglokoff had been placed with me because I did not love him. But I cannot understand how they expected to increase my attachment for him by giving me that woman; and so I told him. As to placing her with me as an Argus, that was a different matter. But if this was their object, they ought to have chosen some one less stupid; and, besides, it was not necessary for this purpose to be spiteful and malevolent. Madame Tchoglokoff was thought to be extremely virtuous, because she loved her husband to adoration. She had married him for love: so excellent an example placed before me would perhaps persuade me to imitate it. We shall see how far the experiment was successful. In all probability, it was the circumstance which I am about to relate which precipitated this arrangement. I say precipitated, because I believe that, from the beginning, Count Bestoujeff had it in view to surround us with his creatures. He would gladly have done the same in the case of the Empress also, but that was not so easy.

The Grand Duke, at the time I arrived in Moscow, had in his service three domestics named Czernicheff, all three sons of grenadiers in the bodyguard of the Empress. Their fathers held the rank of lieutenant, which they received as a recompense for having aided in placing the Empress on the throne. The oldest of the Czernicheffs was cousin to the two others, who were brothers. The Grand Duke was very fond of all three. They were the persons most in his confidence, and were really very useful. All three were tall and well made, especially the oldest. The Duke made use of him in all his commissions, and several times in the day he sent him to me. He it was, too, whom the Duke made his confidant when he did not care to come to me. This man was on very intimate and friendly terms with my valet Yevreinoff, and through this channel I often knew things which I should otherwise have been ignorant of. Besides, both of them were attached to me heart and soul, and I often obtained information from them, on a variety of matters, which it would have been difficult to have procured otherwise. I do not know in reference to what it was that the oldest of the Czernicheffs said one day to the Grand Duke, “she is not my intended, but yours.” This expression made the Grand Duke laugh. He related it to me, and from that time it pleased his Imperial Highness, when speaking to me, to call me his intended, and Andrew Czernicheff your intended. After our marriage Andrew Czernicheff, to put a stop to this badinage, proposed to his Imperial Highness to call me his mother, and I, on my part, called him my son. Now between the Grand Duke and myself there was always some reference to this son, for he was excessively attached to the man; and I also liked him very much.