Here is the crux of how the cadets appeared at Oranienbaum. In the spring of 1756, the Shuvalovs believed that they had found a very diplomatic way to detach the Grand Duke from his Holstein troops by persuading the Empress to give His Imperial Highness command of the cadet infantry corps, which at the time was the only cadet corps that existed. Melgunov, the intimate friend and confidant of Ivan Ivanovich Shuvalov, had been placed under the Grand Duke. This man was married to one of the Empress’s German maids of honor and favorites. Thus the Shuvalovs had one of their most devoted intimates in the Grand Duke’s entourage, able to speak to him at all hours. Under the pretext of the Oranienbaum opera ballets, a hundred cadets were thus brought there, and Monsieur Melgunov and the officers attached to the corps, who were his closest intimates, came with them. These were so many spies for Shuvalov.
Among the instructors who came to Oranienbaum with the cadets was their riding master Zimmermann, who was said to be the best horseman in Russia at that time. As my supposed pregnancy of the previous autumn had disappeared, I decided to take formal lessons from Zimmermann to handle my horse properly. I spoke of this to the Grand Duke, who made no objections to it. For a while now all the old rules introduced by the Choglokovs had been neglected, forgotten, or ignored by Alexander Shuvalov, who in any case did not enjoy any or even a little respect. We made fun of him, his wife, his daughter, and his son-in-law practically in their presence.120 They invited this because one never saw more horrible, petty people. Madame Shuvalova had received from me the epithet “pillar of salt.” She was thin, small, and rigid. Her miserliness was perceptible in her dress. Her skirts were always too tight and one panel fewer than was necessary and than those of the other ladies. Her daughter, Countess Golovkina, dressed in the same manner. Their headwear and their cuffs were meager and always smacked of stinginess. Although these were very rich people and comfortably off, their taste ran to everything that was small and constrained, which painted a true picture of their minds. As soon as I began to take formal lessons in horseback riding, I again gave myself passionately to this exercise. I awoke at six in the morning, dressed in a man’s outfit, and went into my garden. There I had had an outdoor area prepared that served as my riding ground. I made such rapid progress that Zimmermann often ran to me from the center of this manège with a tear in his eye and kissed me on the boot with an uncontrollable enthusiasm. Other times he declared, “Never in my life have I had a student do me so much honor and make such progress in so little time.” At these lessons only my old surgeon, Guyon, a lady-in-waiting, and some servants were present. As I had put much effort into my lessons, which I took every morning except Sundays, Zimmermann rewarded my labors with silver spurs, which he gave me according to the riding school custom. After three weeks, I was familiar with all the riding styles, and toward autumn, Zimmermann had a steeplechaser brought that he wanted me to ride. But the day before I was to ride it, we received the order to return to the city. The outing was therefore postponed until the following spring.
During this summer Count Poniatowski went to make a tour of Poland, from which he returned with his diplomatic credentials as minister from the King of Poland. Before leaving he came to Oranienbaum to take leave of us. He was in the company of Count Horn, whom the King of Sweden had sent to Russia under the pretext of announcing the death of his mother, my grandmother, to Petersburg so as to protect the Count from the persecutions of the French faction, called the Hats, against the Russian faction, the Caps.121 This persecution became so great in Sweden that at the Diet of 1756, almost all the leaders of the Russian faction had their heads cut off. Count Horn himself told me that if he had not come to Petersburg, he would certainly have joined them. Count Poniatowski and Count Horn stayed at Oranienbaum for two days. The first day, the Grand Duke treated them very well, but on the second they bored him because he had a huntsman’s wedding on his mind, where he wanted to go drink, and when he saw that Counts Poniatowski and Horn were staying, he walked out on them, and it was I who stayed to honor our guests and show them around. After lunch, I took the group that had stayed with me and was not very large to see the Grand Duke’s and my private apartments. When we arrived in my study, a little Bolognese dog that I owned ran up to us and began to bark loudly at Count Horn, but when it noticed Count Poniatowski, I thought the dog would go mad with joy. As the study was very small, no one saw this except Lev Naryshkin, his sister-in-law, and I, but Count Horn was not deceived, and while crossing the apartment to return to the salon, Count Horn grabbed Count Poniatowski by the coat and said to him, “My friend, there is no worse traitor than a little Bolognese dog. The first thing I always did with the women I loved was give them one, and it was from these dogs that I always knew if there was someone more favored than I. This rule is sure and certain. You see, the dog wanted to eat me, whom it did not know, whereas it only rejoiced when it saw you again, for this is surely not the first time it has seen you here.” For his part, Count Poniatowski treated all this as nonsense, but could not dissuade him. Count Horn only replied to him, “Fear not. You are dealing with a discreet man.” The following day they left. Count Horn said that when he went so far as to fall in love, it was always with three women at once. He put this into practice before our eyes in Petersburg, where he courted three of the Empress’s maids of honor at the same time.
Count Poniatowski left two days later for his country. During his absence, the English Ambassador, Sir Williams, told me through Lev Naryshkin that Grand Chancellor Bestuzhev was mounting a conspiracy so that Count Poniatowski’s nomination would not go through, and that it was through Williams that Bestuzhev had attempted to dissuade Count Brühl, at the time minister and favorite of the King of Poland, from this nomination. Williams had taken care not to fulfill this commission, although he had not declined it, for fear that the Grand Chancellor would give it to someone else who would have carried it out more conscientiously perhaps, and in this way would have undermined Williams’s friend, who hoped above all to return to Russia. Sir Williams suspected that Count Bestuzhev, who for a long while had had the Saxon and Polish ministers at his disposal, wanted to nominate someone from among his closest henchmen for this position. However, Count Poniatowski obtained it and returned toward winter as the envoy from Poland, and the Saxon mission remained under the immediate direction of Count Bestuzhev.
Sometime before leaving Oranienbaum, we saw the Prince and Princess Golitsyna arrive, accompanied by Monsieur Betskoi. They were going abroad for their health, especially Betskoi, who needed distraction from the profound grief he still felt over the death of the Princess of Hessen-Hamburg, née Princess Trubetskaia, mother of Princess Golitsyna, who had been born from the first marriage of the Princess of Hessen with the Hospodar of Walachia, Prince Kantemir.122 As Princess Golitsyna and Betskoi were old acquaintances, I tried to receive them at Oranienbaum as best I could, and after we walked around quite a while, Princess Golitsyna and I got into a cabriolet, which I drove myself, and we went for a ride in the environs of Oranienbaum. Along the way, Princess Golitsyna, who was quite odd and very narrow-minded, began to make remarks by which she gave me to understand that she believed that I had a grudge against her. I told her that I had none and did not know what this grudge could be about, never having argued with her over anything. At this, she said she was worried that Count Poniatowski had lowered her in my esteem. I almost fell off my seat at these words and replied to her that she was absolutely imagining this and that he was not even in a position to discredit her with me, since he had left a long while ago and I knew him only by sight and as a stranger. I did not know where she got this idea. Back at my house, I called for Lev Naryshkin and recounted this conversation, which to me seemed as stupid as it was impertinent and indiscreet. He replied that the previous winter Princess Golitsyna had moved heaven and earth to woo Count Poniatowski, that out of politeness and so as not to slight her, he had been somewhat attentive toward her. She had made all sorts of advances toward him, and as one might imagin
e, he had not responded much because she was old, ugly, stupid, foolish, and almost crazy. Seeing that he barely responded to her ardor, she had apparently formed a suspicion that he was still with Lev and his sister-in-law and at their house.
During Princess Golitsyna’s short stay at Oranienbaum, I had a terrible quarrel with the Grand Duke about my maids of honor. I remarked that they were always either confidantes or mistresses of the Grand Duke and that on numerous occasions they had neglected their duty as well as the regard and respect they owed me. One afternoon I went to their apartment and reproached them for their conduct, reminded them of their duty and what they owed me, and said that if they continued, I would complain to the Empress. A few were alarmed, others were angered, and others cried. But as soon as I had left, they could not wait to repeat to the Grand Duke what had just occurred in their room. His Imperial Highness became furious and immediately ran to my apartment. As he entered he began by saying that I had become impossible to live with, that every day I was becoming prouder and haughtier, that I was asking for respect and regard from the maids of honor and was spoiling their life, that they cried rivers all day long, that they were well-born girls whom I treated like servants and that if I complained about them to the Empress, he would complain about me, my pride, my arrogance, my cruelty, and God knows what else he said to me. I listened not without irritation myself, and replied that he could say all he liked about me, that if the affair were to be brought before Madame his aunt, she would easily judge it most reasonable to dismiss the girls who misbehaved, who by their gossip put her nephew and niece on bad terms, and that assuredly Her Imperial Majesty, to reestablish peace and union between him and me, and to avoid hearing repeatedly about our disagreements, could make no other decision but that one, and that she would do this without fail. At this he softened his tone and, because he was very suspicious, imagined that I knew more of the Empress’s intentions regarding these girls than I let on, and that they truly could be dismissed over this matter. He said, “Tell me then, do you know something about this? Are people talking about it?” I replied to him that if the matter came to the point of being brought before the Empress, I did not doubt that she would dispose of it in a very decisive manner. He began to pace around the room, reflecting on this, and calmed down, then left sulking only a little more than usual. That same evening I recounted word for word to those maids who seemed the most sensible to me the scene that their imprudent tattling had earned me, which put them on their guard against taking things to such an extreme that they might become the victims.
During the autumn we returned to the city. A short while later, Sir Williams returned to England on leave.123 He had failed to achieve his objective in Russia. The day following his audience with the Empress, he had proposed a treaty of alliance between Russia and England. Count Bestuzhev had the permission and the power to conclude this treaty, and indeed, the treaty was signed by the Grand Chancellor and the Ambassador, who was overjoyed with his success. The following day, Count Bestuzhev informed him in a note of Russia’s participation in the agreement signed at Versailles between France and Austria.124 This was a great blow to the English Ambassador, who had been outwitted and deceived in this affair by the Grand Chancellor, or so it seemed. But at the time, Count Bestuzhev himself was no longer able to do as he pleased. His enemies began to gain the upper hand over him, and they intrigued, or rather others intrigued around them, to draw them into the Franco-Austrian faction, which they were very inclined to join. The Shuvalovs and above all Ivan Ivanovich fervently loved France and everything that came from there, and were supported by Vice Chancellor Count Vorontsov. For this service, Louis XV had furnished the mansion that Vorontsov had just built in Petersburg with old furniture that had begun to bore the Marquise de Pompadour, his mistress, and that she had therefore sold at a profit to the King, her lover. Aside from profit, the Vice Chancellor had another motive, which was to discredit his rival Count Bestuzhev and seize his position. As for Peter Shuvalov, he was planning to establish a monopoly in Russian tobacco and sell it in France. Toward the end of the year, Count Poniatowski returned to Petersburg as a minister of the King of Poland.125
1757
Holstein intrigues; Catherine alerts Elizabeth to bad influences
around Peter; Catherine lectures him on proper governance of
Holstein and future duties in Russia; Peter’s lies and tall tales;
Lev Naryshkin’s arranged marriage into Razumovsky family
to thwart Shuvalovs; Russian successes against Prussia;
Catherine’s talk with Elizabeth about Peter; Elizabeth’s
illness creates turmoil at court and the front
During that winter at the beginning of 1757, we led the same life as the previous winter, same concerts, same balls, same cliques. Soon after our return to the city, where I observed things more closely, I noticed that Monsieur Brockdorff was gaining influence over the Grand Duke’s mind with his intrigues. He was aided in this by a rather large number of Holstein officers, whom he had encouraged His Imperial Highness to keep in Petersburg that winter. The group of at least twenty were continually with and around the Grand Duke, without counting a couple of Holstein soldiers, who served in his room as errand boys and chamber valets, and were used as flunkies. Basically, all these men served as so many spies for master Brockdorff and company. I awaited a favorable moment that winter to speak seriously to the Grand Duke and tell him sincerely what I thought of those around him and of the intrigues I observed. One such moment presented itself and I did not miss it. One day the Grand Duke himself came into my apartment to tell me that he was being told it was absolutely necessary for him to send a secret order to Holstein to arrest a man named d’Elendsheim, who by both his office and his merit was one of the country’s most important people. Of bourgeois origins, he had achieved his position through study and skill. I asked what the grievances were that he had against this man and what he had done that would lead the Grand Duke to arrest him. He replied, “You see, they say that they suspect him of embezzlement.” I asked who his accusers were. He clearly believed himself fully justified and said, “Oh, there are no accusers, because everyone in the country fears and obeys him, and for this reason I must have him arrested, and after that, I am assured that there will be more than enough accusers.” I shuddered at what he said and retorted, “But if one acts in this manner, there will be no more innocent people in the world. All it takes is one jealous person to spread publicly whatever vague rumor pleases him, at which they will arrest whomever they want, saying that the accusers and the crimes will appear later. It is like the song ‘Barbarie, mon ami.’ You are being advised to act without regard either for your glory or your justice. Will you permit me to ask who is giving you such bad advice?” My Grand Duke was a bit sheepish at my question and said, “You always want to know more than the others.” Then I responded that I was not speaking to seem clever but because I hated injustice and did not believe that he would in any way commit one willingly. He began to pace around the room, then left more irritated than sullen. A short while later he returned and said, “Come to my apartment. Brockdorff will speak with you about the d’Elendsheim affair and you will see and be persuaded that I have to have him arrested.” I replied to him, “Very well, I will follow you and listen to what he says, since you wish it.” I did indeed find Monsieur Brockdorff in the room of the Grand Duke, who said to him, “Speak to the Grand Duchess.” Monsieur Brockdorff, somewhat taken aback, bowed to the Grand Duke and said, “Since Your Imperial Highness orders me, I will speak about it to Madame the Grand Duchess. . . .” Here he paused and then said, “This is an affair that must be treated with great secrecy and prudence. . . .” I listened. “The entire country of Holstein is full of rumors about d’Elendsheim’s embezzlement and misappropriations. It is true that there are no accusers, because he is feared, but when he is arrested, then there will be as many as one could want.” I asked him for the details about this embezzlement and misapprop
riation, and I learned that there could not be embezzlement since he did not have the Grand Duke’s money in hand, but that as the head of the justice department, he was thought to be embezzling, because after every trial, one of the litigants complained of injustice and said that the other party had won only because of a handsome payoff to the judges. But despite all the eloquence and knowledge Monsieur Brockdorff displayed, he did not persuade me. I continued to maintain to Monsieur Brockdorff in the Grand Duke’s presence that they were trying to lead His Imperial Highness to commit a gross injustice by persuading him to expedite an arrest warrant for a man against whom there existed neither a formal complaint nor an accusation. I said to Brockdorff that by this logic the Grand Duke could have him locked up at any moment, that the crimes and accusations would come later, and that as concerned affairs of justice it was not difficult to understand why those who lost their cases always claimed that they had been wronged. I added that the Grand Duke more than anyone should be on his guard against such proceedings, because experience had already taught him, at his expense, what the persecution and hatred of factions could produce, since it had been two years at most since the Grand Duke, after my intercession, had released Monsieur de Holmer. This man had been kept in prison six or eight years to make him confess about his dealings during the Grand Duke’s tutelage and during the administration of his guardian, the Royal Prince of Sweden, to whom M. de Holmer had been devoted and whom he had followed to Sweden, from where he had not been able to return until after the Grand Duke signed and dispatched a formal approval of, and general pardon for, everything that had been done during his minority. Despite this, the Grand Duke had been persuaded to have Monsieur de Holmer arrested and to name a commission to investigate what had been done during the Prince of Sweden’s administration. This commission, after at first acting with great energy and opening its doors wide to informers, nevertheless had found no informers and fallen into inactivity for lack of evidence. Meanwhile, however, Monsieur de Holmer languished in a narrow prison cell, which neither his wife, children, friends, nor relatives were permitted to visit. Finally the whole country cried out against the blatant injustice and tyranny displayed in this affair. It would not even have ended quickly had I not advised the Grand Duke to cut the Gordian knot by dispatching an order to release Monsieur de Holmer and abolish a commission that had, moreover, rather drained the coffers, which were quite empty in the Grand Duke’s hereditary domain. But I cited this striking example in vain. I think the Grand Duke listened to me while musing on something else, and Monsieur Brockdorff, hardened by his cruel heart, very narrow-minded and stubborn as a mule, let me go on, having no more arguments for me. When I had left, he told the Grand Duke that all I had said sprang from no other source than my desire to dominate and that I disapproved of all measures I had not recommended, that I understood nothing of political affairs, that women always wanted to meddle in everything, that they spoiled all they touched, and that above all decisive actions were beyond their ken. In the end, he said and did what was needed to prevail over my advice, and the Grand Duke, persuaded by him, had the order for Monsieur d’Elendsheim’s arrest drawn up, signed, and sent off. A certain Zeitz, the Grand Duke’s secretary, an intimate of Pechlin and a son-in-law of the midwife who had served me, informed me of this. In general, the Pechlin faction did not approve of this violent and uncalled-for measure, with which Monsieur Brockdorff made them and the entire land of Holstein tremble.
The Memoirs of Catherine the Great Page 29
