Chapter VIII: Part II: From 1751, to the End of 1758 (2)

In the course of the month of May, I again had indications of pregnancy. We went to Liberitza, an estate of the Grand Duke, twelve or fourteen verstes from Moscow. The stone house which was on it, had been built a long time ago by Prince Menchikoff, and was now falling to decay, so that we could not live in it. As a substitute, tents were set up in the court, and every morning, at two or three o'clock, my sleep was broken by the sound of the axe, and the noises made in building a wooden wing, which was being hurriedly erected, within two paces, so to speak, of our tents, in order that we might have a place to live in during the remainder of the summer. The rest of our time we spent in hunting, walking, or riding. I no longer went on horseback, but in a cabriolet. About the Feast of St. Peter we returned to Moscow. I was seized with such drowsiness that I slept every day till noon, and then it was only with difficulty that I was awakened in time for dinner. The Feast of St. Peter was kept in the usual way: I was present at Mass, at the dinner, the ball, and the supper. Next morning I felt great pains in my loins. Madame Tchoglokoff summoned a midwife, who predicted the miscarriage, which actually occurred the following night. I might have been with child two or three months. For thirteen days I was in great danger, as it was suspected that a portion of the after-birth had remained behind. This circumstance was kept a secret from me. At last, on the thirteenth day, it came away of itself--without pain, or even a struggle. In consequence of this accident I had to keep my room for six weeks, during which the heat was insupportable. The Empress came to see me the day I fell ill, and appeared to be affected by my state. During the six weeks that I kept my room I was nearly tired to death. The only society I had was Madame Tchoglokoff, who came but rarely, and a little Kalmuck girl, whom I liked for her pretty, agreeable ways. I frequently cried from ennui. As for the Grand Duke, he was mostly in his own room, where one of his valets, a Ukrainian, named Karnovitch, a fool as well as a drunkard, did his best to amuse him; furnishing him with toys, with wine, and such other strong liquors as he could procure, without the knowledge of M. Tchoglokoff, who, in fact, was deceived and made a fool of by every one. But in these nocturnal and secret orgies with the servants of the chamber, among whom were several young Kalmucks, the Grand Duke often found himself ill-obeyed and ill-served; for, being drunk, they knew not what they did, and forgot that they were with their master, and that that master was the Grand Duke. Then his Imperial Highness would have recourse to blows with his stick, or the blade of his sword; but in spite of all this, he was ill-obeyed; and more than once he had recourse to me, complaining of his people, and begging me to make them listen to reason. On these occasions I used to go to his rooms, give them a good scolding, and remind them of their duties, when they would instantly resume their proper places. This made the Grand Duke often say to me, and also to Bressan, that he could not conceive how I managed those people; for, as for himself, though he belaboured them soundly, yet he could not make them obedient, while I, with a single word, could get them to do whatever I wished. One day when I went for this purpose into the apartments of his Imperial Highness, I beheld a great rat, which he had had hung--with all the paraphernalia of an execution--in the middle of a cabinet, formed by means of a partition. I asked him what all this meant. He told me that this rat had committed a crime; one which, according to the laws of war, was deserving of capital punishment; it had climbed over the ramparts of a fortress of cardboard which he had on the table in his cabinet, and had eaten two sentinels, made of pith, who were on duty at the bastions. He had had the criminal tried by martial law, his setter having caught him, and he was immediately hung, as I saw, and was to remain there exposed to the public gaze for three days, as an example. I could not help bursting into a loud laugh at the extreme folly of the thing; but this greatly displeased him. Seeing the importance he attached to the matter, I retired, excusing myself on account of my ignorance, as a woman, of military law; but this did not prevent his being very much out of humour with me on account of my laughter. In justification of the rat, however, it may at least be said, that he was hung without having been questioned or heard in his own defence.

During this stay of the court at Moscow, it happened that one of the court footmen became insane, and violently so. The Empress gave orders that her chief physician, Boërhave, should take charge of him. He was placed in a chamber close to that of Boërhave, who resided at court. Besides this case, it also happened that several other persons went out of their mind this year. In proportion as these cases came under the notice of the Empress, she had the persons brought to court and lodged near Boërhave, so that they formed a sort of mad-house at court. I remember that the principal persons among them was Tchedajeff, a major of the Semenofsky guards; a Lieutenant-Colonel Lintrum; a Major Tchoglokoff; a monk of the convent of Voskresensky, who emasculated himself with a razor, and several others. The madness of Tchedajeff consisted in his believing Nadir-Schah, otherwise Thamas-Kuli-Khan, the usurper and tyrant of Persia, to be God. When the physicians could not succeed in curing him of his delusion, they placed him in the hands of the priests. These persuaded the Empress to have him exorcised. She herself assisted at the ceremony; but Tchedajeff remained, to all appearance, as mad as before. There were, however, people who had doubts of his lunacy, as he was quite reasonable on every other point, but that of Nadir-Schah; his friends even consulted him about their affairs, and he gave them very sensible advice. Those who did not believe him mad, gave as a reason for his affectation of madness his having had some trouble on his hands, from which he extricated himself by this ruse. At the beginning of the Empress' reign he had been supervisor of taxes, had been accused of extortion, and was threatened with a trial, in dread of which he took up this fancy, which extricated him from the difficulty.

In the middle of August, 1753, we returned to the country. To keep the 5th of September, the Feast of the Empress, she went to the convent of Voskresensky. Whilst there, the church was struck with lightning; fortunately her Imperial Majesty was in a chapel at the side of the great church, and only learnt the fact through the terror of the courtiers; however, there was no one either hurt or killed by the accident. A little while afterwards she returned to Moscow, whither we also repaired from Liberitza. Upon our return to the city, we saw the Princess of Courland kiss the Empress' hand in public for the permission which had been given her to marry Prince George Hovansky. She had quarrelled with the object of her first engagement, Peter Soltikoff, who immediately afterwards married a Princess Sonzoff. On the 1st of November of this year, at three o'clock in the afternoon, I was in Madame Tchoglokoff's room, when her husband, Serge Soltikoff, Leon Narichkine, and several other gentlemen of the court, left us to go to the apartments of the Chamberlain Schouvaloff, to congratulate him on his birthday, which fell on that day. Madame Tchoglokoff, the Princess Gagarine, and I were talking together, when, after hearing some noise in a little chapel close by, a couple of these gentlemen ran in, telling us that they had been prevented from passing through the halls of the chateau, as it was on fire. I immediately went to my room, and, as I passed through an ante-chamber, I saw that the balustrade at the corner of the great hall was on fire. It was about twenty paces from our wing. On entering my apartments, I found them already filled with soldiers and servants, who were removing the furniture, and carrying off everything they could. Madame Tchoglokoff followed me, and as there was nothing more to be done but wait till it caught fire, we left. At the gate we found the carriage of the chapel-master, Araga, who had come to attend a concert given by the Grand Duke, whom I had already informed of the accident. We entered the carriage: the streets were covered with mud, in consequence of the previous heavy rains. Here we had a view of the fire and of the way in which the people were carrying out the furniture from every part of the house. I here saw a strange sight, viz: the astonishing number of rats and mice which were descending the staircase in file without over-much hurrying themselves. The want of engines rendered it impossible to save this immense wooden structure, and, besides, the few that were there were kept under the very staircase which was on fire; this, too, occupied very nearly the centre of the surrounding buildings, which covered a space of some two or three verstes in circumference. The heat became so great that we could not bear it, so that we were obliged to have the carriage driven some few hundred paces outwards. At last M. Tchoglokoff and the Grand Duke came and told us that the Empress was going to Pokrovsky House, and had given orders that we should go to M. Tchoglokoff's, which formed the right hand corner of the main street of the Sloboda. We at once repaired thither. The house had a hall in the centre and four chambers on each side. It was hardly possible to be more uncomfortable than we were here; the wind blew in every direction, the windows and doors were all half rotten, and the planks of the floor open to the breadth of three or four inches; besides this, there was vermin everywhere. Here resided the children and servants of M. Tchoglokoff. As we entered they were sent out, and we were lodged in this horrible house, which was almost bare of furniture.

On the day after we took up our abode here, I saw what a Kalmuck's nose could hold. The little girl whom I kept near me, on my waking, pointed to her nose, and said, "I have a nut here." I felt her nose, but could not find anything. All the morning, however, she kept repeating, over and over again, that she had a nut in her nose. She was a child of from four to five years old. No one could tell what she meant by a nut in her nose. But about noon, as she was running along, she fell down, and struck against the table. This made her cry; while crying, she took out her pocket-handkerchief and wiped her nose, and in doing so the nut fell from it. I saw this myself, and could then understand how a nut, which could not be held in any European nose without being perceived, might be held in the hollow of a Kalmuck nose, which is placed within the head between two immense cheeks.

Our clothes, and everything else, had been left in the mud in front of the burning palace, and were brought to us during the night and following day. What I most regretted was my books. I was at this time just finishing the fourth volume of Bayle's Dictionary: I had spent two years in reading it, and got through a volume every six months. From this one may judge of the solitude in which my life was passed. At last my books were brought to me. My clothes were found, those of the Countess Schouvaloff, etc. Madame Vladislava showed me, as a curiosity, this lady's petticoats. They were lined behind with leather, as she was unable to retain her water--an infirmity which had afflicted her ever since her first accouchement. All her petticoats were impregnated with the smell, and I sent them back in all haste to the owner. In this fire the Empress lost all that had been brought to Moscow of her immense wardrobe. She did me the honour of telling me that she had lost 4,000 dresses, and that of all these the only one that she regretted was the one made from the piece of stuff which I had received from my mother. She also lost, on this occasion, several other valuables; amongst them a bowl covered with engraved stones, which Count Roumianzoff had purchased at Constantinople, and for which he had paid 8,000 ducats. All those effects had been placed in a wardrobe over the hall which had caught fire. This hall served as a vestibule to the grand hall of the palace. At ten o'clock in the morning, the men whose duty it was to light the stoves had come to heat this entrance-hall. After putting the wood into the stove, they lighted it as usual. This done, the room became filled with smoke; they thought that it escaped by some imperceptible holes in the stove, and set to work to cover with clay the interstices of the tiles. The smoke increasing, they tried to find some chinks in the stove, but not finding any, they perceived that the outlet must be between the partitions of the apartment. These partitions were only of wood. They got water, and put out the fire in the stove, but the smoke still increased, and made its way into the ante-chamber, where there was a sentinel of the horse-guards. The latter, expecting to be suffocated, and not daring to move from his post, broke a pane of glass, and began to cry out; but no one coming to his assistance, nor hearing him, he fired his musket through the window. The report was heard by the main guard, which was posted opposite the palace. They ran to him, and on coming in, found the place filled with a dense smoke, out of which they withdrew the sentinel. The stove heaters were put under arrest. They had hoped to extinguish the fire, or at least prevent the smoke from increasing without being obliged to give any alarm; and they had been hard at work with this view for five hours.

This fire gave rise to a discovery on the part of M. Tchoglokoff. The Grand Duke had in his apartments several very large chests of drawers. As they were being carried out, some of the drawers, being either open or badly fastened, disclosed to the spectators what they were filled with. Who would have thought it? The drawers contained nothing but a great quantity of bottles of wine and strong liquors. They served his Imperial Highness for a cellar. Tchoglokoff spoke to me on the matter, and I told him I was quite ignorant of the circumstance, which was the truth; I knew nothing of it, but I was a frequent, indeed, almost a daily witness of the Grand Duke's drunkenness.

After the fire we remained in Tchoglokoff's house for nearly six weeks. While residing here, we often had to pass in front of a house, situated in a garden near the Soltikoff Bridge. It belonged to the Empress, and was called the Bishop's House, because she had bought it of a bishop. The idea occurred to us of asking her Majesty, unknown to the Tchoglokoffs, to allow us to occupy it, for it appeared to us, and we were also told that it was, more habitable than the one we were in. We received orders to go and take up our abode in the Bishop's House. It was a very old wooden house, from which there was no view, but it was built on stone vaults, and by this means was higher than the one we had just quitted, which had only a ground floor. The stoves were so old, that when lighted, one could see the fire through the furnace, so numerous were the chinks and cracks, while the rooms were filled with smoke. We all had headaches and sore eyes. In fact, we ran the risk of being burnt alive in this house. There was only one wooden staircase, and the windows were very high. The place actually did catch fire two or three times while we were there, but we succeeded in extinguishing the flames. I caught there a bad sore throat, with a great deal of fever. The day I fell ill, M. de Breithardt, who had returned to Russia on the part of the Austrian court, was to sup with us, previously to taking leave. He found me with red and swollen eyes, and thought I had been crying: nor was he mistaken: ennui, indisposition, and the physical and moral discomforts of my position had given me much hypochondria. During the whole day, which I passed with Madame Tchoglokoff, waiting for those who never came, she kept saying every moment, "See how they desert us." Her husband had dined out, and taken everybody with him. In spite of all the promises which Serge Soltikoff had made us to steal away from this dinner party, he only returned with M. Tchoglokoff. All this put me in a very bad humour. At last, some days afterwards, we were allowed to go to Liberitza. Here we thought ourselves in paradise; the house was quite new, and tolerably well fitted up. We danced every evening, and all our court was collected there. At one of these balls we saw the Grand Duke occupied a long while in whispering to M. Tchoglokoff, who, subsequently, appeared vexed, absent, and more close and scowling than usual. Serge Soltikoff seeing this, and finding that Tchoglokoff treated him with great coolness, went and sat down by the side of Mademoiselle Martha Schafiroff, and tried to discover what could be the meaning of this unusual intimacy between the Grand Duke and M. Tchoglokoff. She told him that she did not know, but that the Grand Duke had on several occasions said to her, "Serge Soltikoff and my wife deceive Tchoglokoff in the most unheard-of way. He is in love with the Grand Duchess; but she cannot endure him: Soltikoff is the confidant of Tchoglokoff, and makes him believe that he is working for him with my wife, while instead of that he is working for himself with her. She can very well endure Soltikoff, for he is amusing: she makes use of him to manage Tchoglokoff just as she pleases, and, in reality, she laughs at them both. I must undeceive that poor devil Tchoglokoff, who excites my pity. I must tell him the truth, and then he will see who is his true friend--my wife or I." As soon as Soltikoff became aware of this dangerous dialogue, and of his delicate position in consequence, he repeated it to me, and then went and seated himself by the side of Tchoglokoff, and asked him what was the matter with him. The latter at first was unwilling to enter into any explanation, and merely sighed; then he began uttering jeremiads on the difficulty of finding faithful friends. At last Soltikoff turned and twisted him in so many different directions, that he drew from him an avowal of the conversation which he had just had with the Grand Duke. No one certainly could have formed any idea of what had passed between them, without being told of it. The Grand Duke began by making great protestations of friendship to Tchoglokoff, saying that it was only in the most important circumstances of life that it was possible to distinguish true friends from false; that to show the sincerity of his own friendship, he was going to give him a very emphatic proof of his frankness; that he knew, beyond doubt, that he was in love with me; that he did not impute it to him as a crime that I should appear agreeable to him, for that no one was master of his own heart; but that, nevertheless, he ought to apprise him that he had made a bad choice of confidants, and in his simplicity believed Serge Soltikoff to be his friend, and working in his interest with me, whereas he was only working for himself, and he suspected he was his rival; that, as for me, I laughed at them both, but if M. Tchoglokoff would follow his advice and trust in him then he would see that he was his only and true friend. M. Tchoglokoff gave the Grand Duke many thanks for his friendship, and his proffers of friendship; but in reality he considered all the rest as mere chimeras and delusions on his part.

It may easily be believed that, in any case, he did not much wish for a confidant who, both by his rank and character, was as little to be trusted as he was able to be useful. This matter being once stated, Soltikoff had but little trouble in restoring tranquillity to Tchoglokoff's mind, for he was not in the habit of attaching much importance nor paying much attention to the discourses of a person so devoid of judgment, and so generally known to be so. When I learnt all this, I must confess I was extremely indignant with the Grand Duke, and, to prevent his returning to the subject, I told him that I was not ignorant of what had passed between him and Tchoglokoff. He blushed, said nothing, went off, sulked, and so the matter ended.

On returning to Moscow, we left the Bishop's House for apartments in what was called the Empress' Summer House, which had not been burnt. The Empress had had new apartments constructed in the space of six weeks. For this purpose beams had been transported from Perova House, from Count Hendrikoff's, and from the dwelling of the Princes of Georgia. At last she took possession of these rooms about the beginning of the new year.

1754.

The Empress kept the new-year's day of 1754 in this palace, and the Grand Duke and I had the honour of dining with her in public on the throne. At table, her majesty seemed very lively and talkative. Around the throne, tables were laid for several hundred persons of the highest rank. At dinner the Empress asked who was that thin and ugly woman, with a crane's neck, whom she saw seated there (pointing to the place); she was told it was Mademoiselle Martha Schafiroff. She burst into a laugh, and, turning to me, remarked that this reminded her of a Russian proverb, which said, "A long neck is only good for hanging." I could not but smile at the point of this imperial sarcasm, which did not fall unheeded, for the courtiers passed it on from mouth to mouth, so that on rising from table, I found several persons who already knew of it. Whether the Grand Duke heard it, I know not, but at all events he did not allude to it, and I took care not to mention it to him.

Never was a year more fertile in fires than that of 1753-54. I have several times seen, from the windows of my apartments in the Summer Palace, two, three, four, and even five fires at once in different parts of Moscow. During the Carnival, the Empress gave orders for several balls and masquerades to be given in her apartments, at one of which I saw her engaged in a long conversation with the wife of General Matiouchkine. This lady was unwilling that her son should marry the Princess Gagarine. But the Empress persuaded her, and the Princess Gagarine, who numbered a good thirty years, had permission to marry M. Dmitri Matiouchkine. She was much pleased at this, and so was I. It was a marriage of inclination. Matiouchkine was at this time very handsome. Madame Tchoglokoff did not come with us to our summer apartments. Under different pretexts she remained, with her children, in her own house, which was very near the court. But the truth is, that, virtuous and loving wife as she was, she had conceived a passion for Prince Peter Repnine, and a marked aversion for her husband. She thought she could not be happy without a confidant, and I appeared to her the most trustworthy person. She showed me all the letters she received from her lover. I kept her secret faithfully, with scrupulous exactitude and prudence. Her interviews with the Prince were very secret; yet in spite of this the husband had some suspicions. An officer of the horse-guards named Kaminine, had given rise to them. This man was jealousy and suspicion personified: it was his nature. He was an old friend of Tchoglokoff. The latter opened his mind to Serge Soltikoff, who endeavoured to tranquillize him. I was careful not to tell Soltikoff anything I knew, for fear of some involuntary indiscretion on his part. At last the husband also sounded me a little. I pretended ignorance and astonishment, and held my tongue.

In the month of February I had some signs of pregnancy. On Easter Sunday, during mass, Tchoglokoff fell ill of the dry cholic; they gave him various remedies, but his disease only grew worse. During Easter week, the Grand Duke, with the gentlemen of our court, went out riding. Serge Soltikoff was of the number. I remained at home, for they were afraid to let me go out in my present condition, especially as I had twice miscarried. I was alone in my room when M. Tchoglokoff sent me a request to come to him. I went, and found him in bed. He made a thousand complaints of his wife; told me she saw Prince Repnine; that he went to her house on foot; that, during the Carnival, he had gone there, one courtball day, dressed as a harlequin; that Kaminine had had him followed; in short, God only knows all the details he gave me.

Just as he was most excited, his wife arrived; whereupon he began, in my presence, to load her with reproaches, telling her that she deserted him in his sickness. They were both very suspicious and narrow-minded. I was nearly frightened to death lest his wife should suspect that it was I who had betrayed her, from the mass of details which he then went into relative to her interviews. His wife, on the other hand, told him that it was not strange if she punished him for his conduct towards her; that neither he, nor any one else, could reproach her with having ever until now failed in her duty towards him in any respect; and she ended with saying that it ill became him to complain. Both appealed continually to me as a witness of what they said. I held my tongue, fearing to offend the one or the other, or compromise myself: my face was burning from apprehension. I was alone with them. When the quarrel was at its highest, Madame Vladislava came in to tell me that the Empress had just entered my room. I ran back immediately. Madame Tchoglokoff left at the same time, but, instead of following me, she stopped in a corridor, where there was a staircase leading into the garden, and there, as I was afterwards told, she sat down. As for myself, I reached my room quite out of breath, and found the Empress there. As she saw that I was out of breath and rather red, she asked where I had been. I told her that I was just come from the apartments of M. Tchoglokoff, who was ill, and that I had run in order to get back as quickly as possible, having been informed that she had condescended to come to my rooms. She did not ask me any more questions, but seemed to me to be dwelling upon what I had said, as if it appeared strange to her. Nevertheless, she continued speaking to me. She did not ask where the Grand Duke was, for she knew he had gone out. Neither he nor I, during the whole of her reign, dared to go out in the city or leave the house, without first sending to ask her permission. Madame Vladislava was in the room: the Empress addressed her several times, then spoke to me, and always of indifferent matters: finally, after a visit of nearly half an hour, she went away, saying that, in consequence of my pregnancy, she would dispense with my appearing on the 21st and 25th of April. I was surprised that Madame Tchoglokoff had not followed. When the Empress had gone, I asked Madame Vladislava what had become of her. She informed me that she had sat down on the stairs, and burst into tears. Upon the return of the Grand Duke, I recounted to Serge Soltikoff what had occurred during their absence; how Tchoglokoff had sent for me; my alarm at what had been said between the husband and wife, and the visit which the Empress had paid me. His answer was: "If that be the case, I am of opinion that the Empress must have come to see what you do in the absence of your husband; and, in order that it may be seen that you are perfectly alone, both in your own apartments and in those of the Tchoglokoffs, I will be off, and take all my comrades to the house of Ivan Schouvaloff, just as we are, bespattered with mud up to our eyes." And, in fact, when the Grand Duke retired, he went off with all those who had been riding with his Imperial Highness to Ivan Schouvaloff, who had apartments at the court. When they arrived there, Schouvaloff asked them questions about their ride, and Soltikoff told me afterwards that, from these questions, it seemed to him that he had been correct in his inference.

From this day the illness of Tchoglokoff grew worse and worse. On the 21st of April--my birth-day--the physicians pronounced him beyond hope of recovery. The Empress was informed of this, and gave orders (as she was accustomed to do) that he should be carried to his own house, in order that he might not die at court, for she was afraid of the dead. I was very much grieved on learning his condition. He died at the very time when, after many years of trouble and pain, we had succeeded in rendering him not only less ill-natured and mischievous, but even tractable, and when, by dint of studying his character, we had acquired the power of managing him as we pleased. As for his wife, she at this time loved me sincerely, and, from a harsh and spiteful Argus, had become a firm and attached friend. Tchoglokoff, after his removal to his own house, lived until the afternoon of the 25th of April, the day of the Empress' coronation, when he died. I was immediately informed of the event, as I kept constantly sending to his house. I was truly sorry for him, and wept a good deal. His wife, too, was confined to her bed during the last days of her husband's illness; he was at one side of the house, she in the other. Serge Soltikoff and Leon Narichkine happened to be in her room at the moment of her husband's death; the windows being open, a bird flew into the room, and alighted on the cornice of the ceiling, right opposite to Madame Tchoglokoff's bed. Upon seeing this, she said, "I am certain that my husband has just breathed his last; send and ask how he is." She was informed that he was really dead. She said that that bird was the soul of her husband. They tried to prove to her that the bird was an ordinary bird; but then it could not be found. They said it had flown away, but as no one had seen it, she remained convinced that it was the soul of her husband who had come to find her.

As soon as the funeral was over, Madame Tchoglokoff wished to come to my rooms. The Empress seeing her passing along the Yaousa bridge, sent her word that she would dispense with her attendance on me, and that she might return to her own house. Her Imperial Majesty took it ill that, as a widow, she should have gone out so soon. The same day she named M. Alexander Ivanovitch Schouvaloff to discharge the duties of the late M. Tchoglokoff in the Grand Duke's court. Now this M. Schouvaloff, not so much on his own account as from the place he held, was the terror of the court, the city, and the whole empire. He was the chief of the tribunal of the state inquisition, which was then called the Secret Chancery. His functions, it was said, had given him a sort of convulsive movement, which seized the whole of the right side of his face from the eye to the jaw, whenever he was affected either with joy, anger, fear, or anxiety. It was astonishing that such a man, with so hideous a grimace, should ever have been chosen for a post which placed him continually in the presence of a pregnant young woman. Had I been delivered of an infant having that same wretched twitch, I think the Empress would have been greatly vexed, and this might have happened, seeing him as I did constantly, never with my own wish, and, for the greater part of the time, with a shudder of involuntary repugnance, on account of his personal appearance, his connections, and his office, by which, as may easily be imagined, the pleasure of his society was not likely to be augmented. But this was only a beginning of the "good times" they were preparing for us, and especially for me. The next morning I was informed that the Empress was going to place with me again the Countess Roumianzoff. I knew that she was the sworn enemy of Serge Soltikoff, that she bore no love to the Princess Gagarine, and that she had greatly injured my mother in the estimation of the Empress. The moment I became aware of this arrangement, I lost all patience. I wept bitterly, and told Count Schouvaloff that if the Countess Roumianzoff was placed with me I should look upon it as a great misfortune; that this lady had already injured my mother, had blackened her in the eyes of the Empress, and that now she would do the same with me; that she was feared as a pest when she was formerly in our suite, and that there would be many rendered miserable by the arrangement if he could not find means to prevent it. He promised to do what he could, and tried to tranquillize me. As, in my situation, he dreaded the effect of such excitement, he went at once to the Empress, and on his return told me that he hoped the Countess Roumianzoff would not be placed about my person. And, in fact, I heard no more of the matter, and nothing was now thought of but our departure for St. Petersburg. It was settled that we should be twenty-nine days on the road; that is to say, that we should only travel one post-station each day. I was frightened to death lest Serge Soltikoff and Leon Narichkine should be left behind at Moscow; but I know not how it was, they had the condescension to inscribe their names in the list of our suite.

At last, on the 10th, or the 11th, we set out from the palace of Moscow. I was in a carriage with the wife of Count Alexander Schouvaloff, the most tiresome woman that it is possible to imagine. Madame Vladislava, and the midwife, whom, as I was pregnant, they said I could not do without, were with us. I was tired to death in that carriage, and did nothing but cry. At last, the Princess Gagarine, who personally disliked the Countess Schouvaloff, because her daughter, who was married to Golofkine, a cousin of the Princess, made herself disagreeable to the relatives of her husband, seized a moment when she could get near me to say that she was working hard to make Madame Vladislava favourable to me, as she feared, as did every one else, that the hypochondria which my condition produced might do me harm, as well as injure my child. Soltikoff, she said, dared not come near me, because of the restraint and constant presence of the Schouvaloffs, both husband and wife. She did, in fact, succeed in getting Madame Vladislava to listen to reason, and condescend so far as to mitigate a little the state of perpetual annoyance and restraint which gave rise to this hypochondria which I found it impossible to control. All I wanted was the merest trifle--only a few moments of conversation. At last she succeeded. After this tedious journey of twenty-nine days, we reached St. Petersburg and the Summer Palace. The Grand Duke at once re-established his concerts. This gave me sometimes the opportunity of a little conversation; but my hypochondria had become such that at every moment, and at every word, my eyes filled with tears, and my mind was disturbed with apprehensions; in a word, I could not get it out of my head that everything tended to the removal of Serge Soltikoff.

We went to Peterhoff. I walked a great deal, but in spite of this my melancholy followed me. In the month of August we returned to the city, to occupy again the Summer Palace. It was a death-blow to me when I learned that, for my accouchement, they were preparing apartments close to, and forming part of those belonging to the Empress. Alexander Schouvaloff took me to see them; I found two rooms, gloomy, and with only one issue, like all those of the Summer Palace; the hangings were of ugly crimson damask, there was scarcely any furniture, and no kind of convenience. I saw that I should be isolated there, without any sort of company, and thoroughly wretched. I said so to Soltikoff and to the Princess Gagarine, who, though they bore no love to each other, had nevertheless a point of union in their friendship for me. They saw the matter as I did, but it was impossible to remedy it. I was to go on the Wednesday to these apartments, which were far removed from those of the Grand Duke. I went to bed on Tuesday evening, and in the night awoke with labour-pains. I called Madame Vladislava, who went to fetch the midwife. She pronounced that I was in labour. The Grand Duke, who was sleeping in his own room, was awakened, as also Count Alexander Schouvaloff. The latter sent word to the Empress, who was not long in coming. It was about two o'clock in the morning. I was very ill. At last, towards noon the next day, the 20th September, I gave birth to a son. As soon as it was dressed the Empress called in her confessor, who gave the child the name of Paul, after which the Empress immediately bade the midwife take the child up and follow her. I remained on the bed on which I had been confined. Now this bed was placed opposite a door through which I could see the light; behind me were two large windows which did not close properly, and on the right and left of this bed were two doors, one of which opened into my dressing-room, and the other into the room in which Madame Vladislava slept. As soon as the Empress left, the Grand Duke also went away, as likewise did M. and Madame Schouvaloff, and I saw no one again until three o'clock in the afternoon. I had perspired a great deal, and begged Madame Vladislava to change my linen, and put me into my own bed, but she told me that she dared not. She sent several times to call the midwife, who, however, did not come. I asked for something to drink, but still received the same answer. At last, after three hours, the Countess Schouvaloff arrived, very elaborately dressed. When she saw me lying just where she had left me, she was very angry, and said it was enough to kill me. This was very consolatory, certainly. I had been in tears from the time of my delivery, pained by the neglect in which I was left, after a severe labour; uncomfortably accommodated, lying between doors and windows, which did not shut close, no one daring to lift me into my bed, which was not two paces off, and to which I had not the strength to crawl. Madame Schouvaloff departed immediately, and went, I think, to fetch the midwife; for the latter came in about half an hour afterwards, and told us that the Empress was so taken up with the child that she would not let her go away for a moment. As for me no one gave me a thought. This forgetfulness or neglect was not at all flattering. I was dying of thirst. At last they placed me on my bed, and I did not see a living soul for the rest of the day, nor did any one send even to ask after me. The Grand Duke, for his part, did nothing but drink with all he could find, and the Empress was taken up with the child. In the city and throughout the empire the joy at this event was great. The next day I began to feel an excruciating rheumatic pain, from the hip down the thigh and left leg. This pain prevented me from sleeping, and this brought on a violent fever. In spite of all this, the attentions I received next day were just of the same character. I saw no one, and no one inquired after me. The Grand Duke, indeed, did come into my room for a moment, and then went away, saying, that he had not time to stop. I did nothing but weep and moan in my bed. Nobody was in my room but Madame Vladislava; in her heart she was sorry for me, but she had not the power to remedy this state of things. Besides, I never liked to be pitied nor to complain. I had too proud a spirit for that, and the very idea of being unhappy, was insupportable to me. Hitherto I had done whatever I could not to appear so. I might have seen Count Alexander Schouvaloff and his wife, but they were such insipid and tiresome people that I was always delighted when they were not present. On the third day a messenger came from the Empress to Madame Vladislava to ask if a blue satin mantelet which her Imperial Majesty had worn on the day of my accouchement, had been left in my room. Madame Vladislava searched for it everywhere in my rooms, and it was at last found in a corner of my dressing-room, where it had not been noticed, as, since my confinement, that room had seldom been entered. Having found it, she sent it off immediately. This mantelet, as we afterwards learned, gave rise to a somewhat singular occurrence. The Empress had no fixed hours either for going to bed or getting up, for dinner, supper nor dressing. On one of those three days she was lying, after dinner on a sofa on which she had placed a mattress and pillows. While there, feeling cold, she asked for this mantelet. It was sought for everywhere, but could not be found, as it had been left in my room. The Empress then ordered that it should be looked for under the pillows of her bed, believing that it would be found there. The sister of Madame Krause, the Empress' favourite lady's maid, passed her hand under the bolster of her Majesty's bed and drew it back, saying, that there was no mantle there, but there was a packet of hair there, or something like it, she did not know what. The Empress immediately rose from her place, and had the mattress and the pillows taken up, and under them was found, to their no small astonishment, a paper in which was some hair twisted round the roots of some herbs. Upon this her Majesty's maids, and the Empress herself, said that assuredly it was some charm or witchcraft, and every one began guessing who it could be that had the hardihood to place the packet under the Empress' pillow. Suspicion lighted on one of those most in the favour of her Imperial Majesty. She was known by the name of Anna Dmitrevna Doumacheva. Not long since she had become a widow, and had married a second time a valet de chambre in the service of the Empress. The Schouvaloffs did not like this woman, who was in their way, as well by the esteem in which she was held as by the confidence reposed in her by the Empress ever since her youth. She was quite capable of playing them some trick which might diminish their influence. As they were not without their partisans, these began to view the matter in a criminal light; to this view the Empress was of herself sufficiently disposed, since she believed in charms and sorcery. Consequently, she gave orders to Count Alexander Schouvaloff to have the woman arrested, together with her husband and her two sons, one of whom was an officer of the guards, and the other a page of the chamber to her Majesty. Her husband, two days after his arrest, asked for a razor to shave with, and cut his throat with it. As for the wife and her two children, they were a long time under arrest, and she confessed that, with a view to prolong the Empress' favour, she had made use of charms, and had on Holy Thursday put some grains of burnt salt into a glass of Hungarian wine, which she had presented to the Empress. The affair was concluded by banishing the woman and her two sons to Moscow. A rumour was afterwards set afloat that a fainting fit, which the Empress had a little time before my accouchement, was caused by the drink which this woman had given to her. It is certain, however, that she never gave her more than two or three grains of burnt salt, which most assuredly could never have hurt her. In all this there was nothing reprehensible, but the woman's rashness and superstition.

At last the Grand Duke, growing weary of his evenings passed without my ladies of honour, came and proposed to spend an evening in my room. At this time he was courting the very ugliest of these ladies, Elizabeth Voronzoff. On the sixth day my son's baptism took place. He had already come near dying of the thrush. It was only by stealth that I could get any account of him; for to have inquired about him would have passed for a doubt of the Empress' care, and would have been very ill received. Besides, she had taken him into her own room, and whenever he cried she herself would run to him, and, through excess of care, they were literally stifling him. He was kept in a room extremely warm, wrapped up in flannel, and laid in a cradle, lined with black fox furs; over him was a coverlet of quilted satin, lined with wadding, and above this one of rose-coloured velvet, lined with black fox skins. I saw him myself, many times afterwards, lying in this style, the perspiration running from his face and whole body, and hence it was that, when older, the least breath of air that reached him chilled him and made him ill. Besides, he had in attendance on him a great number of aged matrons who, by their ill-judged cares, and their want of common sense, did him infinitely more harm than good, both physically and morally.

On the day of his baptism, after the ceremony, the Empress came into my room, and brought me, on a golden salver, an order on her cabinet for 100,000 roubles. She had added to it a small casket, which I did not open until she was gone. This money came very seasonably, for I had not a sous, and was heavily in debt. As for the casket, when I opened it, I was not greatly dazzled; it contained only a very poor necklace, with ear-rings and two wretched rings, such as I should have been ashamed to give to my maids. In the whole case there was not a jewel worth 100 roubles; neither was the taste nor workmanship any better. I said nothing, but locked up the imperial casket. It would seem that the meanness of the present was felt, for Count Alexander Schouvaloff was ordered to inquire how I liked the jewel-case. I replied, that whatever came from the hands of the Empress was always of inestimable value in my eyes. With that compliment he went away apparently well pleased. He returned to the charge when he saw that I never wore this beautiful necklace, and especially those miserable ear-rings, telling me to put them on. I said that on the Empress' fêtes I was accustomed to wear the most beautiful things I possessed, and that this necklace and ear-rings did not come within that category.

Four or five days after the money ordered by the Empress was brought to me, Baron Tcherkassoff, her secretary of the cabinet, sent to beg of me, for Heaven's sake, to lend it again to the cabinet, because the Empress had asked for money, and there was not a sou left. I sent it back to him, and he repaid me in the month of January. The Grand Duke having heard of the present made me by the Empress, got into a terrible passion because nothing had been given to him. He complained vehemently to Count Alexander Schouvaloff. The latter told the Empress, who immediately sent the Duke an order for a similar sum, and it was to meet this demand that my money was borrowed. The truth is, the Schouvaloffs were very timid, and it was by this weakness that they were to be led; but this trait had not then been discovered.

After my son's baptism, there were fêtes, balls, illuminations, and fireworks at court. As for me, I was all the while in bed, ill, and suffering dreadfully from _ennui_. At last they chose the seventeenth day after my confinement to announce to me two pieces of agreeable news at once. First of all, that Serge Soltikoff had been selected to carry the news of the birth of my son to Sweden; secondly, that the marriage of the Princess Gagarine was fixed for the following week; that is to say, in plain language, that I was about to be deprived, almost immediately, of the two persons I most liked of all who were about me. I buried myself more than ever in my bed, where I did nothing but grieve. In order to be able to keep to it, I pretended an increase of the pains in my thigh, which prevented my getting up; but the truth was, I neither could nor would see anybody, I felt so miserable.

During my confinement, the Grand Duke had also a great affliction, for he learned from Count Alexander Schouvaloff, that one of his old huntsmen, named Bastien, whom the Empress a few years before had ordered to marry Mademoiselle Schenck, my old lady's-maid, had come to give information of his having heard, from some one or other, that Bressan wished to give something or other to the Duke to drink. Now this Bastien was a great scoundrel and drunkard, who from time to time used to drink with his Imperial Highness, and having quarrelled with Bressan, whom he supposed to stand higher in the Duke's favour than himself, thought to do him an ill turn. The Duke was fond of them both. Bastien was sent to the fortress; Bressan expected to be sent there also, but escaped with nothing worse than the fright. The huntsman was banished the country, and sent to Holstein with his wife, while Bressan retained his place because he served as a general spy. Serge Soltikoff, after some delays, occasioned by the usual dilatoriness of the Empress in signing papers, at last took his departure. The Princess Gagarine, in the meanwhile, was married at the time fixed.