After some stay in the house of Peter I, we were ordered to the Summer Palace, which was built of wood. Here new apartments had been prepared for us, one side of which faced the Fontanka, then a muddy marsh, while the other opened on a miserable and narrow yard. On Whit-Sunday, the Empress sent me word to invite Madame d’Arnheim, the wife of the Saxon Envoy, to accompany me. She was a tall woman, very well made, about five-and-twenty or six-and-twenty years of age, rather thin, and anything but handsome, for she was much and deeply marked by the small-pox; but, as she dressed well, she had, at some distance, a good appearance, and looked tolerably fair. She arrived at about five o’clock in the afternoon, dressed like a man, from head to foot, her coat being of red cloth, bordered with gold lace, and her vest of green gros de Tours, similarly trimmed. She did not seem to know what to do with her hat or her hands, and appeared to us rather awkward. As I knew the Empress did not like my riding as a man, I had had made for me a lady’s saddle, in the English style, and an English riding habit, of a rich azure and silvered cloth, with crystal buttons, which admirably imitated diamonds, while my black cap was surrounded with a string of diamonds. I went down stairs to mount my horse. At this moment the Empress came to our apartments to see us set off. As I was then very active, and accustomed to this exercise, as soon as I reached my horse I leaped into the saddle, my petticoat, which was open, falling on each side. The Empress seeing me mount with such agility and address, cried out in astonishment, and said it was impossible to have done better. She asked what kind of saddle I was using, and having learned that it was a side-saddle, she said, “One might have sworn it was a man’s saddle.” When Madame d’Arnheim’s turn came, her skill did not shine very conspicuously in the eyes of her Imperial Majesty. Her own horse had been led from her house. It was a large, heavy, black and ugly-looking animal, and our courtiers pretended that it must have been one of the leaders of her carriage. In order to mount, she was obliged to have the aid of steps, and the ceremony was not effected without a deal of fuss, and the assistance of several people. When mounted, the animal broke into a rough trot, which considerably shook the lady, who was neither firm in her seat nor in her stirrups, so that she had to hold on by the saddle. Seeing her mounted, I took the lead, and then—let those follow who could. I overtook the Duke, who was a-head of me, and Madame d’Arnheim was left behind. I was told that the Empress laughed heartily, and was not at all pleased with Madame d’Arnheim’s mode of riding. At last, after losing, now her hat and then her stirrups, she was picked up, I believe, some distance from the court, by Madame Tchoglokoff, who was in a carriage. Finally, she was brought to us at Catherinhoff; but the adventure was not yet ended. It had rained during the day, up to three o’clock in the afternoon, and the steps leading to Catherinhoff House were covered with pools of water. After dismounting, I remained for some time in the hall, where a good deal of company had assembled. Then, wishing to reach the room where my women were, I thought I would go by these open steps. Madame d’Arnheim must needs follow me, and as I walked quickly, she was obliged to run. She thus stepped into these puddles, lost her footing, slipped, and fell flat upon the ground, amidst the laughter of the crowd of spectators gathered about the steps. She got up, a little confused, laying the blame on the new boots she had put on that afternoon. We returned from this excursion in a carriage, and, on the way, Madame d’Arnheim entertained us with a detail of the good qualities of her steed; we had to bite our lips to prevent a burst of laughter. In a word, for many days she furnished a subject of merriment to the whole court and town. My women asserted that she had fallen from trying to imitate me, without being equally nimble; and Madame Tchoglokoff, who was by no means given to mirth, used to laugh till the tears came into her eyes, whenever any allusion was made to the subject, and this for a long time afterwards.
From the Summer Palace we went to Peterhoff, where, this year, we resided at Monplaisir. We regularly spent a portion of our afternoons at the residence of Madame Tchoglokoff, where, as there was always company, we were tolerably well amused. From Peterhoff we went to Oranienbaum, where we hunted whenever the weather permitted, being sometimes thirteen hours a-day in the saddle. The summer, however, was rather wet. I remember one day, when returning home quite wet, that, as I was dismounting, I met my tailor, who said to me, “When I see you in this condition, I am not at all surprised that I can scarcely keep you in riding habits, and that new ones are continually required.” The only material I wore for this purpose was silk camlet. The rain made it split, the sun faded the colours, so that I was obliged to have a constant succession of new habits. It was during this time that I contrived for myself saddles on which I could sit in any way I pleased. They had the English crook, and yet the leg could be passed over, so as to ride like a man. Besides, the crook divided, and a second stirrup could be let down or raised at pleasure. If the equeries were asked how I was mounted, they said, “Upon a lady’s saddle,” according to the wishes of the Empress. I never passed my leg over except I felt quite sure of not being betrayed; and as I made no boast of my invention, while, besides, my attendants were anxious to please me, no inconvenience resulted. The Grand Duke cared very little how I was mounted, while the equeries thought I ran less risk in riding astride, especially as I was constantly in the chase, than I did in sitting on the English saddles, which they detested, as they were always apprehensive of some accident, the blame of which they would, in all probability, have to bear. For myself, I cared little for the chase, but I was passionately fond of riding; and the more violent the exercise, the more I liked it, so that if a horse happened to run away, I was sure to be after it and bring it back. At that period, also, I had always a book in my pocket, and if I had a moment to myself, I spent it in reading.
I noticed, in these huntings, that M. Tchoglokoff became a good deal softened in his manners, especially towards me. This made me fear that he might take it into his head to pay his court to me—a thing which would not have suited me in any manner. In the first place, I did not at all like him. He was fair and foppish, very stout, and as heavy in mind as in body. He was universally hated, while he was in no respect agreeable. His wife’s jealousy and his own malignity were equally to be feared, especially for one like me, who had nothing in the world to depend on but myself and my merit, if I had any. I therefore evaded, and very skilfully, I fancy, all the attentions of M. Tchoglokoff, without ever giving him any room for charging me with a want of politeness. All this was perfectly seen through by his wife, who felt grateful for it, and subsequently became much attached to me, partly, as will be seen in the sequel, from this cause.
There were in our court two chamberlains named Soltikoff, sons of the Adjutant-General Vasili Teodorovitch Soltikoff, whose wife, Mary Alexceëvna, born Princess Galitzine, the mother of these two young men, was very much esteemed by the Empress, on account of the signal services she had rendered her at the time of her accession to the throne, having on that occasion given proofs of a rare fidelity and attachment. Sergius, the younger of these sons, had been for some little time married to one of the Empress’ maids of honour, named Matrena Pavlovna Balk. The elder brother was named Peter. He was a fool in the fullest sense of the word. He had the most stupid physiognomy I have ever seen, great staring eyes, a flat nose, and a mouth always half open; added to which he was a notorious tale-bearer, and as such welcome to the Tchoglokoffs, at whose house it was that Madame Vladislava, in virtue of an old acquaintance with the mother of this sort of imbecile, suggested to the Tchoglokoffs the idea of marrying him to the Princess of Courland. In consequence, he placed himself in the ranks as a suitor, proposed to her and obtained her consent, while his parents demanded that of the Empress. The Grand Duke knew nothing of all this until everything had been settled, that is, till our return to town. He was very much annoyed, and very much out of humour with the Princess. I do not know what excuse she gave him, but, although he disapproved of her marriage, she continued for a long time to retain a portion of his affection, and some degree of influence with him. As for me, I was delighted with this marriage, and had a superb dress embroidered for the intended. These court marriages, requiring the consent of the Empress, never took place till after years of delay, because her Majesty herself fixed the day, forgot it, often for a long time, and, when reminded of it, put it off from time to time. This was the case in the present instance. We returned then to town in autumn, and I had the satisfaction of seeing the Princess of Courland and M. Soltikoff thank her Majesty for the consent she had been graciously pleased to give to their union. After all, the family of Soltikoff was one of the oldest and noblest in the empire. It was even allied to the imperial family through the mother of the Empress Anne, who was a Soltikoff, but of a different branch to the one in question; while M. Biren, created Duke of Courland by the favour of the Empress Anne, was the son of a petty farmer on the estate of a gentleman in Courland. The name of this farmer was Biren; but the favour enjoyed by the son in Russia induced the Birons of France, at the persuasion of Cardinal Fleury, to acknowledge him; for Fleury, anxious to gain over the court of Russia, favoured the views and vanity of Biren, Duke of Courland.
On arriving in town, we learnt that besides the two days a-week set apart for French plays, there would also be, twice a-week, a masquerade ball. The Grand Duke added another day for concerts in his own apartments, and on Sundays there was generally a court. One of these masquerade days was for the court exclusively, and for those whom the Empress thought proper to admit; the other was for all the titled people who happened to be in the city, down to the rank of colonel, as well as those who served as officers in the guards. Sometimes, also, the whole of the nobility and the most considerable of the merchants were admitted. The court balls did not exceed 160 to 200 people; those called public received as many as 800.
When we were at Moscow, in the year 1744, the Empress took a fancy to have the court masquerades so arranged that all the men should dress as women, and all the women as men, no masks being worn. It was precisely a court day metamorphosed. The men wore large whale-boned petticoats, with women’s gowns, and the head-dresses worn on court days, while the women appeared in the court costume of men. The men did not like these reversals of their sex, and the greater part of them were in the worst possible humour on these occasions, because they felt themselves to be hideous in such disguises. The women looked like scrubby little boys, whilst the more aged amongst them had thick short legs, which were anything but ornamental. The only woman who looked really well, and completely a man, was the Empress herself. As she was very tall and somewhat powerful, male attire suited her wonderfully well. She had the handsomest leg I have ever seen with any man, and her foot was admirably proportioned. She danced to perfection, and everything she did had a special grace, equally so whether she dressed as a man or as a woman. One always felt inclined to be looking at her, and turned away with regret because there was no object that could replace her. At one of these balls I watched her while dancing a minuet. After she had ended it she came to me. I took the liberty of saying that it was very fortunate for the women she was not a man, and that her portrait alone, painted as she then was, would be enough to turn many a head. She received my compliment in very good part, and answered me in the same style, saying, in the most gracious manner possible, “That were she a man, it would be to me that she would give the apple.” I stooped to kiss her hand for a compliment so unexpected. She embraced me, and every one was curious to know what had passed between us. I made no secret of it to M. Tchoglokoff, who whispered it to two or three others, and thus it passed from mouth to mouth until, in about a quarter of an hour, everybody knew it.
During the last sojourn of the court at Moscow, Prince Youssoupoff, Senator and Chief of the Corps of Cadets, had the command-in-chief of the city of St. Petersburg, where he remained during the absence of the court. For his amusement, and that of the principal persons about him, he made his cadets play alternately the best tragedies; such as the Russian ones which Soumarokoff was then composing, and the French dramas of Voltaire. These latter were spoiled. On her return from Moscow, the Empress ordered the dramas of Soumarokoff to be played at court by these young men. She took pleasure in witnessing these representations, and it was soon noticed that she seemed to view them with more interest than could have been expected. The theatre, which was set up in one of the halls of the palace, was now transported into her own private apartments. She took pleasure in dressing up the actors, had magnificent dresses made for them, and loaded them with her jewelry. It was particularly noticed that the principal character, a rather handsome young man of eighteen or nineteen, was the most superbly dressed, as was natural. Out of the theatre, also, he was observed to wear diamond buckles, rings, watches, very expensive lace and linen. Finally, he left the corps of cadets, and the Master of the Hounds, Count Razoumowsky, the old favourite of the Empress, immediately took him for his adjutant, which office gave him the rank of captain. The courtiers at once drew their own inferences in their usual way, and made it out that Razoumowsky, in taking Beketoff as his adjutant, could have no other motive than that of counterbalancing the favour enjoyed by M. Schouvaloff, gentleman of the bedchamber, who was known to be on no good terms with the Razoumowsky family; and, finally, it was concluded also, from the same circumstances, that this young man was coming into great favour with the Empress. It was farther known that Count Razoumowsky had placed with his new adjutant another messenger, in his service, named John Perfilievitch Yelagine, who was married to a former lady’s-maid of the Empress. She it was who had furnished the young man with the linen and lace just spoken of, and, as she was anything but rich, it was easy to believe that the money for this expenditure did not come from her own purse. No one was more disturbed by the rising favour of this young man than my maid of honour, the Princess Gagarine, who was no longer young, and was anxious to make a suitable match. She had property of her own, but was not handsome; she was, however, clever and manœuvring. This was the second time she had fixed her choice on a person who afterwards attained to the favour of the Empress. The first was M. Schouvaloff; the second, this Beketoff, of whom we are speaking. There were a number of young and handsome women connected with the Princess Gagarine; and, besides, she belonged to an extensive family. All these accused M. Schouvaloff of being the secret cause of the constant reprimands which the Princess received from her Majesty on the subject of dress, and the prohibitions issued, both to her and other young ladies, against wearing—sometimes one kind of dress, and sometimes another. In revenge for all this, the Princess and all the prettiest women of the court said everything that was bad of M. Schouvaloff, whom they all now hated, although previously he had been a great favourite. He sought to mollify them by showing them attentions, and saying pretty things to them, through his most intimate friends; but this was looked upon as an additional offence, and he was repelled and ill-received on all hands. All these ladies shunned him as they would the pestilence.
Meanwhile the Grand Duke had given me a little English barbet, which I had asked him for. I had in my service a stove-heater, named Ivan Ouchakoff, and my people took it into their heads to name my little spaniel after this man, calling him Ivan Ivanovitch. This barbet was a most comical little creature; he walked upon his hind legs like a human being, and was in general exceedingly playful, so that we dressed him up in a different style every day, and the more he was bundled up the more playful he became. He sat at table with us, had a napkin put round him, and eat out of his plate with great propriety. Then he turned his head around and asked for drink, by yelping to the person who stood behind him. Sometimes he got upon the table to take something that suited him, such as a little pâté, a biscuit, or the like, which made the company laugh. As he was small, and incommoded no one, he was suffered to do these things, for he did not abuse the liberty allowed him, and was, too, very clean. This barbet amused us the whole of this winter. The following summer we took him to Oranienbaum, and the Chamberlain Soltikoff, junior, having come there with his wife, both she and the other ladies of our court did nothing but sew and work for him, making all sorts of clothes and head-dresses, and disputing with each other for his possession. At last, Madame Soltikoff got so fond of him, and the dog attached himself so much to her, that when she was going away he would not leave her, and she was as little willing to leave him. She entreated me so earnestly to allow him to go with her, that I made her a present of him. She took him under her arm, and went straight to the seat of her mother-in-law, who was then ill. This lady, seeing her arrive with the dog, and noticing the antics which she made him play, asked his name, and learning that it was Ivan Ivanovitch, she could not help expressing her astonishment in the presence of many persons, belonging to the court, who had come from Peterhoff to see her. These returned to court, and, at the end of three or four days, the whole town was filled with a marvellous story, to the effect that all the young ladies who were hostile to M. Schouvaloff, had each a white barbet, to which, in derision of the favourite of the Empress, they gave the name of Ivan Ivanovitch, and which, also, they dressed in light colours, such as Schouvaloff was fond of wearing. Matters went so far that the Empress signified to the parents of the young ladies, that she considered it impertinent of them to permit such things. The white barbet at once changed its name, but it continued to be caressed as before, and remained in the house of the Soltikoffs, cherished by its masters till the day of its death, despite the imperial reprimand. In point of fact, the whole story was a calumny. This one dog was the only one so named, and, in giving him this name, M. Schouvaloff was not thought of. As for Madame Tchoglokoff, who did not like the Schouvaloffs, she pretended not to have noticed the name of the dog, although she was constantly hearing it, and had herself given the animal many a little pâté, while laughing at its gambols.
During the latter months of this winter, and the numerous balls and the masquerades of the court, our two former gentlemen of the bedchamber, Alexander Villebois and Zachar Czernicheff, who had been placed as colonels in the army, again made their appearance. As they were sincerely attached to me, I was very glad to see and receive them; while they, on their part, neglected no opportunity of giving me evidences of their affectionate devotion. I was at that time very fond of dancing. At the public balls I generally changed my dress three times; my parure was very recherchée, and if the masquerade dress which I wore happened to attract general approbation, I was certain never to wear it again; for it was a rule with me that if once it produced a great effect, it could not fail to produce an inferior one on a second occasion. In the court balls, at which the public did not assist, I dressed as simply as I could, and in so doing pleased the Empress, who did not like too much display on these occasions. However, when the ladies were ordered to appear in male attire, I dressed magnificently, my clothes being richly embroidered on every seam, or otherwise in very refined taste, and this passed without criticism, nay, even pleased the Empress; why I do not very well know. It must be confessed that at that period the efforts of coquetry were pushed to the extreme at this court; it was a constant struggle for distinction in splendour and elegance of dress. I remember, on the occasion of one of those masked balls, that every one was preparing new and most magnificent dresses, and, despairing of eclipsing others in this respect, the idea occurred to me of taking an opposite course. I put on a bodice of white gros de Tours (at that time I had a very fine shape), with a petticoat of the same, over a very small hoop. My hair, which was then very long, thick, and beautiful, was arranged behind my head, and tied with a white ribbon, en queue de renard. A single rose, with its bud and leaves, was the only ornament I wore in it; another was placed in my corset; they imitated nature so perfectly as scarcely to be distinguished from the real. Round my neck was a ruff of very white gauze, which with cuffs and an apron of the same material, completed my costume. Thus attired, I went to the ball, and the moment I entered I saw plainly that all eyes were fixed on me. I crossed the gallery without stopping, and entered the corresponding apartments beyond it. Here I met the Empress, who instantly exclaimed, “Good God, how simple! What, not even a patch!”[10] I laughed, and said I did not wish to add to the weight of my dress. She drew from her pocket her box of patches, and choosing one of moderate size, applied it to my face. On leaving her I hastened to the gallery, where I pointed out my patch to my more intimate friends. I did the same to the favourites of the Empress, and, as I was in high spirits, I danced more than usual. I never in my life remember to have been so highly complimented as on that occasion. I was said to be beautiful as the day—dazzlingly brilliant. I never, indeed, thought myself so very handsome, but I was pleasing; and it was in this point, I think, that my forte lay. I returned home very well satisfied with my plan of simplicity, while all the other costumes were of rare magnificence.
It was in the midst of amusements like these that the year 1750 came to a close. Madame d’Arnheim danced better than she rode; and I remember, on one occasion, that we tried which of us would be soonest tired. It turned out to be her. She was obliged to sit down, and acknowledge that she could not hold out any longer, while I still went on.