The Memoirs of Catherine the Great

by Catherine the Great

  No one was more intrigued by this young man’s growing favor than Princess Gagarina, my maid of honor, who was no longer young and sought to find herself a match to her liking.84 She had her own fortune, was not pretty, but had great intelligence and cunning. This was the second time that she had set her heart on the very person who would later enjoy the Empress’s favor: the first was Monsieur Shuvalov; the second, this same Beketov, whom I have just discussed. Many young and pretty women were linked to Princess Gagarina; moreover, she had a very large extended family. They accused Monsieur Shuvalov of being the secret reason that the Empress continually had Princess Gagarina reprimanded for her finery, and that she had forbidden her and many other young ladies from wearing now one chiffon and now another. Hating this treatment, Princess Gagarina and all the youngest, prettiest women of the court spoke badly of Monsieur Shuvalov, whom they all began to detest, though they had greatly loved him up until then. He thought to mollify them by paying them his respects and having his most faithful servants make gallant remarks on his behalf, which they regarded as a new offense. He was repulsed and badly received everywhere. All these women fled him like the plague.

  While this was going on, the Grand Duke gave me a little English water spaniel that I had wanted. There was a stoker assigned to my room named Ivan Ushakov, who took care of the spaniel. The other servants decided, I know not how, to call my water spaniel Ivan Ivanovich, after this man. Left alone, this spaniel was a nice animal. He walked on his hind legs like a person most of the time and was incredibly frisky—I and my ladies did his hair and dressed him every day in a new way, and the more we dressed him up, the crazier he became. He would sit at the table with us. We would give him a napkin and he would eat very properly from his plate. Then he turned his head and asked to drink by yapping to whoever was behind him. Sometimes he climbed onto the table to take whatever he fancied, like a meat patty or a cookie or something of the sort, which made the company laugh. As he was small, he inconvenienced no one, and we left him alone because he did not abuse the liberty that he enjoyed and he kept himself perfectly clean. This spaniel amused us the whole winter, and the following summer he was taken to Oranienbaum, where Chamberlain Saltykov the younger had come with his wife, who with all the ladies of our court did nothing all day but sew and fashion the hair and the outfits for my spaniel, over which they fought. Eventually Madame Saltykova developed such an affection for the dog that it grew particularly attached to her, and when she left, the dog no longer wanted to leave her nor she the dog, and she begged me so much to let the dog go with her that I gave it to her. She took it under her arm and accompanied by the spaniel, left directly for the estate of her mother-in-law, who was then ill. Seeing her arrive with the dog and perform a thousand silly antics with him, the mother-in-law wanted to know the dog’s name, and hearing that it was Ivan Ivanovich, she could not hide her astonishment from the various people who had come to see her from the court at Peterhof. They returned to the court, and after three or four days, the city and the court were buzzing with the tale that all the young women, who were enemies of Monsieur Shuvalov, had a white spaniel named Ivan Ivanovich to deride the Empress’s favorite and that they made these spaniels perform all kinds of antics, and wear the bright colors that Shuvalov liked to dress in. The matter went so far that the Empress had the young ladies’ parents told that she found it impertinent for them to permit such things. The spaniel’s name was immediately changed, but he was fawned over as before and stayed in the Saltykov’s house, cherished until his death by his masters, despite the imperial reprimand over him. In fact this was slander, and there was only this one dog, who moreover was black, given this name, and we had not thought of Monsieur Shuvalov in naming him. As for Madame Choglokova, who did not like the Shuvalovs, she had pretended not to notice the dog’s name, though she heard it constantly and herself had given many meat patties to the dog, and had laughed at its antics and tricks.

  During the last months of that winter and the frequent masquerades and balls at the court, we again saw my two former gentlemen of the bedchamber, Alexander Villebois and Count Zakhar Chernyshev, who had been made colonels in the army. As they were sincerely devoted to me, I was very content to see them again and consequently I received them. For their part, they did not miss a single occasion to give me signs of their affectionate feelings. At that time, I loved to dance. At public balls I usually changed costume three times. My jewelry was always very fine, and if the costume I wore attracted everyone’s praise, I was sure never to wear it again, because I had a rule that if it had made a big impression once, it could only make a smaller one the next time. On the other hand, at court balls that the public did not attend, I dressed as simply as I could, and so I paid my respects to the Empress, who did not much like anyone to appear overdressed. However, when the ladies were ordered to come in men’s clothes, I came in superb outfits that were meticulously embroidered or gorgeously refined, and this passed without criticism. On the contrary, this pleased the Empress, and I do not really know why. It must be admitted that at that time the cultivation of coquetry was an important part of court life, and there was competition to see whose finery would be the most elegant. I remember that one day at one of these public masquerades, after learning that everyone was having the most beautiful new outfits made, and despairing of surpassing the other women, I decided to put on a bodice of white gros de tours and a skirt of the same material over a very small hoop (at the time I had a very thin waist). I had my hair arranged as best I could in front; in back, I had my hair, which was long, very thick, and quite beautiful, curled, and I had it tied with a white ribbon in a ponytail. I had a single rose whose bud and leaves perfectly resembled the real thing placed in my hair. I attached another to my bodice. I put a ruff of very white gauze around my neck, put on cuffs and a little apron of the same gauze, and I went to the ball. As I entered, I clearly saw that all eyes were fixed on me. Without stopping, I crossed the gallery and went into the facing apartment. I met the Empress, who said to me, “Good God, what modesty. What, not even a beauty spot!” I began to laugh and replied that it was for simplicity’s sake. She pulled her box of beauty spots from her pocket and chose one of medium size, which she applied to my face. Upon leaving her, I went very quickly into the gallery, where I showed my beauty spot to my intimates. I did the same with the Empress’s favorite ladies, and as I was in high spirits, that evening I danced more than usual. In my life, I do not recall having had so much praise from everyone as on that day. They said that I was very beautiful and particularly radiant. To tell the truth, I have never believed myself to be extremely beautiful, but I knew how to please and I think that this was my forte. I returned to the house very happy with my simple invention, whereas all the other outfits were exceptionally fancy. It was with such entertainments that 1750 ended. Madame d’Arnim danced better than she rode. I remember that one day, when she and I wanted to see who would tire sooner, it turned out to be her, and seated on a chair, she confessed that she could no longer go on, whereas I was still dancing.

  Grand Duchess Ekaterina Alekseevna (the future Catherine the Great) wearing the Order of St. Catherine (1745). GEORG CHRISTOPH GROOTH

  Grand Duchess Ekaterina Alekseevna and Grand Duke Peter Fedorovich (1744 – 45). GEORG CHRISTOPH GROOTH

  Empress Elizabeth in a black masquerade domino with a mask in her hand (1748). GEORG CHRISTOPH GROOTH

  Catherine the Great holding her Instruction (1765–79). Although she first wrote it in French (1765–67), the text is in Russian; on the table are a bust of Peter the Great and books she consulted, including Montesquieu’s Spirit of the Laws (1748); an orb representing her power nestles in the arm of the chair.

  St. Petersburg and Neva River panorama (1753). MIKHAIL IVANOVICH MAKHAEV

  Peterhof and the Grand Cascade (1753), on the Gulf of Finland, where Peter the Great originally had his summer palace. MIKHAIL IVANOVICH MAKHAEV

  Oranienbaum (1753), home of Peter III and, later, Cathe
rine the Great’s summer residence; today called Lomonosov. MIKHAIL IVANOVICH MAKHAEV

  The Summer (or Catherine) Palace, Tsarskoe Selo (Czar’s Village): View of Her Imperial Highness’s summer home from the north side (1753). MIKHAIL IVANOVICH MAKHAEV

  PART TWO

  1751

  Catherine’s views on negotiations over Holstein; Elizabeth’s

  favorite; Lev Naryshkin; new furniture; boredom; Count

  Chernyshev’s ardor for Catherine

  At the beginning of 1751 the Grand Duke, who had taken Count de Bernis, Ambassador from the court of Vienna, into his affection as much as I had, decided to talk to him about his Holstein affairs, about the debts with which this land was burdened at the time, and about the negotiations initiated by Denmark, which he had authorized. He told me one day to speak about this with Count de Bernis too. I replied to him that if he ordered me to do it, I would. And indeed, at the next masked ball, I approached Count de Bernis, who stood near the balustrade beyond which there was dancing, and said that the Grand Duke had ordered me to speak to him about the affairs of Holstein. Count de Bernis listened to me with a great deal of interest and attention. I told him quite frankly that being young and devoid of counsel, as well as perhaps poorly understanding affairs of state, and having no experience to cite in my favor, my ideas were my own, that I might lack a great deal of knowledge, but that it seemed to me first of all that the affairs of Holstein were not as desperate as people wanted to make them seem. That moreover, as concerned the exchange itself, which I understood rather well, it might be more advantageous for Russia than for the Grand Duke personally, that assuredly as heir to the throne, the interests of the empire should be dear and precious to him. If for these interests it was absolutely necessary for the Grand Duke to give up Holstein in order to put an end to the interminable disputes with Denmark, then even if Holstein were kept for now, it would only be necessary to choose the right moment and the Grand Duke would consent to give it up. It seemed to me that now was not that moment, neither for the Grand Duke’s interests nor his personal glory, that a time or circumstance might come, however, that would render this act both more consequential and more glorious for him and perhaps even more advantageous for the Russian Empire. But at present, all of this had such a manifest air of intrigue about it that if it succeeded, it would make the Grand Duke appear so weak that he would perhaps never recover from it in public opinion. He had been managing the affairs of his country for only a few days, so to speak. He loved this country passionately, and despite this, they had succeeded in persuading him to exchange it, without him really knowing why, for Oldenburg, which he hardly knew and which was farther from Russia. Besides, in the hands of the Grand Duke, the port of Kiel alone could be important for Russian shipping. Count de Bernis considered all my arguments and in the end said, “As Ambassador, I have no instructions concerning all this, but as Count de Bernis, I think that you are right.” The Grand Duke said to me after this that the Imperial Ambassador told him, “All that I can say to you on this subject is that I believe that your wife is right, and that you will do very well to listen to her.” As a result, the Grand Duke cooled considerably toward these negotiations, which apparently was noticed and was why the matter was mentioned to him less often.

  After Easter, we went as was customary to reside for a while in the Summer Palace, and from there to Peterhof.85 The annual stays here began to get shorter. That year an event occurred that gave the courtiers something to gossip about. It was brought about by the intrigues of Messieurs Shuvalov. Things had reached the point that from one day to the next, everyone waited to see which of the two would cede his place to the other, that is, Beketov to Ivan Shuvalov or the latter to the former. Colonel Beketov, who was already mentioned above, out of boredom and not knowing what to do with the favor that he enjoyed, decided to have the Empress’s choir-boys sing at his residence. He developed a particular affection for several of them because of the beauty of their voices, and as he himself and his friend Elagin were versifiers, he wrote songs for them, which these children sang. This was given an odious interpretation; it was known that the Empress detested nothing more than this particular vice. With an innocent heart, Beketov walked with these children in the garden. This was imputed to him as a crime. The Empress departed for Tsarskoe Selo for a couple of days and then came back to Peterhof, and Monsieur Beketov, under the pretext of an illness, was ordered to stay there. He remained with Elagin, came down with a severe fever that he thought would kill him, and in his delirium he dreamed only of the Empress, with whom he was obsessed. He recovered, but he remained disgraced and withdrew from the court, after which he was placed in the army, where he had no success. He was too effeminate for the military profession.

  Meanwhile we went to Oranienbaum, where we went hunting every day, and toward autumn, we returned to the city. In the month of September the Empress placed in our court Monsieur Lev Naryshkin as a gentleman of the bedchamber. He had only just returned from Moscow with his mother, brother, sister-in-law, and three sisters.86 He was one of the most singular personages that I have known, and no one ever made me laugh as much as he. He was a born Harlequin, and if he had not been of noble birth, he could have made a living and acquired much with his real comic talent. He had no lack of wit, he had heard all the gossip, and he had a unique ability to keep everything in his head. He was capable of discoursing on any given art or science. He employed the technical terms of the subject and spoke continuously for a quarter hour or more, and at the end, neither he nor anyone could make anything of the stream of words that flowed from his mouth, and everyone just burst out laughing. Speaking of history, he said among other things that he did not at all like history in which there were tall tales, and that for history to be any good, it had to be devoid of such tales, and that anyway, history was becoming gibberish. But it was really on politics that he was inimitable. When he began to speak, even the humorless could not resist. He also said that most well-written comedies were boring. He had hardly arrived at court when the Empress ordered his elder sister to marry a Monsieur Seniavin, who was therefore placed in our court as a gentleman of the bedchamber. This was a serious blow to the young woman, who married this man only with the greatest revulsion. This marriage was very poorly received by the public, which placed all the blame on Monsieur Shuvalov, the Empress’s favorite. Before coming into favor, he had been quite fond of this young maiden, who was married off badly so that he would lose sight of her. This was a truly tyrannical form of persecution; eventually she married, became consumptive, and died.87

  At the end of September we returned to the Winter Palace.88 At that time, the court had so little furniture that even the mirrors, beds, chairs, tables, and commodes that served us in the Winter Palace went with us to the Summer Palace and from there to Peterhof, and even followed us to Moscow. A good number broke and were damaged in these journeys, and they were given to us in this battered state, so that we had a hard time using them. As it was necessary to have an express order from the Empress to obtain others, and since most of the time access to her was difficult or even impossible, I resolved little by little to buy myself commodes, tables, and the most necessary furniture with my money for both the Winter and Summer Palaces, and when I went from one residence to the other, I found everything that I needed without the difficulty and the inconveniences of transport. This arrangement pleased the Grand Duke; he did the same for his apartment. At Oranienbaum, which belonged to the Grand Duke, we had everything we needed at our own expense. In my apartment there, I spent my own money to avoid all disagreement and difficulty because although His Imperial Highness spent freely on all his fancies, when it came to me, in general he was anything but generous. But since what I spent from my purse on my apartment served to embellish his house, he was very content.

  That summer, Madame Choglokova developed a very particular affection for me that was so real that upon her return to the city, she could hardly do without me, and got bored when
I was not with her. The basis for this affection was that I had not at all responded to that which it had pleased Monsieur her husband to show me, and this had given me a singular merit in the eyes of the wife. Back in the Winter Palace, Madame Choglokova invited me almost every afternoon to come to her apartment. Few people were there, but always more than in mine, where I would read all alone, except when the Grand Duke would pace my room in great strides and talk to me of things that interested him, but which were of no importance to me. These walks lasted one or two hours and were repeated several times a day. I had to walk with him until his strength gave out, I had to listen to him attentively, I had to respond. Most of the time I could make neither heads nor tails of his remarks, in which he often gave free rein to his imagination. I recall that he spent almost one whole winter occupied with plans to build a country house near Oranienbaum in the form of a Capuchin monastery, where he and I and his whole court would be dressed as Capuchins. He found this costume charming and comfortable. Each person was to have a donkey and take turns leading it to find water and bring provisions to the so-called monastery. He was overcome with laughter and joy over the wonderful and amusing effect that his creation would produce. He made me do a pencil sketch of the ground plan of this beautiful project, and every day I had to add or subtract something. As resolved as I was to be indulgent and patient with him, I frankly admit that I was very often overcome with boredom on these visits, walks, and conversations, which were of an insipidness that I have never seen equaled. When he left, the most boring book seemed a delicious amusement.