1757.
Towards the end of the year, Count Poniatowsky returned to Russia as minister of the King of Poland. In the early part of the year, the tenor of our life was the same as in the previous winter; the same balls, the same concerts, and the same coteries. Soon after our return to the city, where I could observe things more closely, I perceived that M. Brockdorf, with his intrigues, was making rapid progress in the good graces of the Grand Duke. He was seconded in this by a considerable number of Holstein officers whom he had encouraged his Highness to retain this winter at St. Petersburg. The number amounted to at least twenty, who were continually within the Grand Duke’s circle, without counting a couple of Holstein soldiers who did duty in his chamber as messengers, valets-de-chambre—factotums, in a word. All these were, in reality, so many spies in the service of Messrs. Brockdorf and Co. I watched for a favourable moment during this winter to speak seriously to the Grand Duke, and tell him exactly what I thought of those about him, and of the intrigues which I saw going on. One presented itself, which I did not neglect. The Grand Duke himself came one day into my cabinet, to tell me that it had been represented to him as indispensably necessary that he should send secret orders to Holstein for the arrest of a person named Elendsheim, who, by his office and the personal consideration he enjoyed, was one of the leading men of the country. He was of bourgeois extraction, but had risen by his learning and capacity to his present post. I asked the Duke what complaints were made against him, and what he had done to require his arrest. He replied, “Why, you see, they tell me he is suspected of malversation.” I inquired who were his accusers. On this, he thought himself very reasonable in saying, “Oh, as for accusers, there are none, for every one in the country fears and respects him; and it is on this very account that I ought to have him arrested, for as soon as this is done, there will be, I am assured, accusers enough and to spare.” I shuddered at this answer, and replied, “But at this rate there will not be an innocent man in the world; it will only be necessary for some envious person to set afloat any vague rumour he pleases, and then any one whatever may be arrested on the principle that accusations and crimes will come afterwards. It is, to use the words of the song, ‘à la façon de Barbari, mon ami,’ that they are advising you to act, without regard to your reputation or your sense of justice. Who is it that gives you such bad advice? if I may be allowed to ask.” My gentleman looked a little foolish at this question, and said, “You are always wanting to know more than other people.” I replied, that it was not for the sake of knowing that I spoke, but because I hated injustice, and could not believe that he wished to commit such a wrong out of mere wantonness. Upon this he began to pace up and down the room with hasty strides, and then went away more agitated than displeased. A little while afterwards he came back, saying, “Come to my room, Brockdorf will talk to you about the affair of Elendsheim, and you will see and be convinced that I must have him arrested.” I replied, “Very well, I will follow you, and will hear what he has to say, since you wish it.” I did so, and as soon as we entered, the Grand Duke said to Brockdorf, “Speak to the Grand Duchess.” Brockdorf, a little confused, bowed to the Duke, and said, “Since your Highness commands me, I will speak to her Imperial Highness the Grand Duchess.” Here he paused, and then said, “This is an affair which requires to be managed with much secrecy and prudence.” I listened. “All Holstein is full of rumours of the malversations and extortions of Elendsheim. It is true he has no accusers, for he is feared; but when he is arrested, there will be no difficulty in getting as many as may be wished.” I asked for some details of these malversations and extortions, and learnt that as for embezzlement of the revenue, there could not be any, since the Grand Duke had no money in hand there; but what was looked upon as malversation was, that being at the head of the administration of justice, whenever any cause was to be tried, there was always some pleader or other who complained of injustice, and accused the opposite party of having gained their cause by bribing the judges. But M. Brockdorf displayed his eloquence and skill in vain; he did not convince me. I still maintained to him, in presence of the Grand Duke, that they were pushing on his Imperial Highness to commit an act of crying injustice, by persuading him to despatch an order for the arrest of a man against whom there existed no formal complaint or accusation. I said to M. Brockdorf that after that fashion the Grand Duke might have him locked up at any hour, and say that the crimes and accusations would come afterwards; and that, as to lawsuits, it was easy to conceive that he who lost his cause would always complain of having been wronged. I added, too, that the Grand Duke, more than any other person, ought to be on his guard against such things, as experience had already taught him, to his cost, what persecution and party-spirit could do; for it was not more than two or three years, at the utmost, since his Imperial Highness, at my intercession, had ordered the release of M. de Holmer, who had been kept in prison for six or eight years, in order to compel him to give an account of affairs transacted during the Grand Duke’s minority, and under the administration of his guardian, the Prince Royal of Sweden, to whom M. de Holmer had been attached, and whom he followed to Sweden; whence he did not return until the Grand Duke had signed and sent him a testimonial of approval, and a formal discharge for all that had been done during his minority. And yet in spite of all this, the Grand Duke had been induced to have M. de Holmer arrested, and a commission of inquiry appointed, to examine into things which occurred under the administration of the Prince Royal of Sweden. This commission, after acting at first with much vigour, and offering a clear stage to all informers, had, nevertheless, been able to discover nothing, and had fallen into lethargy for want of aliment. Yet all this time, M. de Holmer languished in close confinement, being allowed to see neither wife, nor children, nor friends, nor relatives; until at last the whole country cried out against the injustice and tyranny of this business, which was in truth outrageous, and which would not even then have been so soon brought to an end had I not advised the Grand Duke to cut this Gordian knot by despatching an order for the release of M. de Holmer, and the abolition of the commission, which, besides, cost no trifling sum to the already nearly exhausted exchequer of the Grand Duke’s hereditary duchy. But it was to no purpose that I quoted this striking example; the Grand Duke listened to me, thinking all the while, I fancy, of something else, while M. Brockdorf, hardened in wickedness, narrow in mind, and obstinate as a block, allowed me to talk on, having no more reasons to produce. And when I was gone away, he told the Grand Duke that all I had urged sprung from no other motive than the desire of ruling; that I disapproved of every measure which I had not myself advised; that I knew nothing of business; that women always liked to be meddling in everything, and always spoilt whatever they did meddle with; and that all vigorous measures especially were beyond their capacity; in short, he managed to overrule my advice, and the Grand Duke, at his persuasion, had an order for the arrest of Elendsheim drawn up, signed, and immediately despatched. A person of the name of Zeitz, secretary to the Grand Duke, who was in the interest of Pechlin, and was son-in-law of the midwife who attended me, informed me of all this. The party of Pechlin, generally, disapproved of this violent and unreasonable measure, with which M. Brockdorf alarmed both them and the whole country of Holstein. As soon as I learnt that the wiles of M. Brockdorf had prevailed over my advice and earnest representations, in a case of such crying injustice, I resolved to make M. Brockdorf feel my indignation to the utmost. I told Zeitz, and I had Pechlin informed, that from that moment I regarded M. Brockdorf as a pest, to be shunned and driven away from the Grand Duke, if it could in any manner be accomplished; as for myself, I would employ every means in my power for that end. And, in fact, I made it a point to manifest, on every occasion, the disgust and the horror with which the conduct of this man had inspired me. There was no sort of ridicule with which he was not covered, and I did not allow any one, whenever an occasion offered, to remain ignorant of what I thought of him. Leon Narichkine, and other young people, amused themselves in seconding me in this. Whenever M. Brockdorf passed through the apartments, everyone cried out after him, Pelican—such was the nickname we had given him. This bird was the most hideous that we knew of, and as a man, M. Brockdorf was quite as hideous, both externally and internally. He was tall, with a long neck, and a broad, flat head, and withal red-haired. He wore a wire wig; his eyes were small, dull and sunk in his head, and almost destitute of eyelashes and eyebrows, while the corners of his month hung down towards his chin, giving him a miserable as well as an evil look. As to his character I may refer to what I have just said; but I will further add that he was so corrupt that he took money from all who were willing to give it him, and in order that his august master might not at some future time be able to blame these extortions, and seeing him always in need of money, he persuaded him to do the same, and in this way he procured him all he could, as well by selling Holstein orders and titles to any one who would pay for them, as by inducing him to solicit, and intrigue for, in the different bureaux of the empire, as well as in the senate, all sorts of things, many of them unjust, some even burdensome to the state, such as monopolies and other privileges which could not otherwise be allowed, since they were contrary to the laws of Peter I. Besides this, M. Brockdorf led the Duke more than ever into drink and debauchery, having surrounded him with a mob of adventurers, drawn from the barracks and taverns, both of Germany and St. Petersburg, who had neither faith nor principle, and did nothing but drink, eat, smoke, and talk disgusting nonsense.
As I saw that, in spite of all I did and said to lessen the credit of M. Brockdorf, he still maintained his position in the good opinion of the Grand Duke, and was even more in favour than ever, I formed the resolution of telling Count Schouvaloff what I thought of the man, adding, that I looked upon him as one of the most dangerous persons it was possible to have near a young prince, heir to a great empire, and that I felt myself in conscience bound to speak to him in confidence, in order that he might inform the Empress, or take what other measures he might deem proper. He asked whether he might venture to mention my name. I told him he might, and that if the Empress asked me about it I would not mince the matter, but tell her what I knew and saw. Count Alexander Schouvaloff winked his eye as he listened to me very seriously, but he was not a person to act without the advice of his brother Peter and his cousin Ivan. For a long time I heard nothing; at last he gave me to understand that the Empress might speak to me on the subject. In the interim, the Grand Duke bounced into my room one day, closely followed by his secretary Zeitz, with a paper in his hand. The Duke, addressing me, said, “Just look at this devil of a fellow! I drank too much yesterday, and to-day my brain is still in a whirl, and he brings me a whole sheet of paper, which, after all, is only a list of the matters which he wishes me to finish; he follows me even into your room.” Zeitz said to me, “All that I have got here only requires a yes or a no, and will not take up a quarter of an hour.” “Well, let us see,” I said, “perhaps you will get through them easier than you think.” Zeitz began to read, and as he read on, I answered, ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ This pleased the Grand Duke, and Zeitz said to him, “Look, my Lord, if you would only consent to do thus twice a week, your affairs would not fall into arrear. These things are but trifles, but they must be attended to, and the Grand Duchess has finished the matter with six times ‘yes,’ and as many times ‘no.’” Thenceforward his Imperial Highness used to send Zeitz to me whenever he had any “yeses” or “noes.” After a time, I asked him to give me a written order, stating what things I might settle, and what I must not determine without his express direction, and this he did. None but Pechlin, Zeitz, and myself were cognizant of this arrangement, with which Pechlin and Zeitz were delighted. When a signature was necessary, the Grand Duke signed what I had settled. The affair of Elendsheim remained under the care of Brockdorf; but when once Elendsheim was under arrest, M. Brockdorf was in no hurry to push the business, for he had thus gained pretty nearly all he wanted, which was to remove Elendsheim from public affairs, and to manifest in Holstein his own influence with his master.
I seized, one day, a favourable opportunity for saying to the Grand Duke, that since he found the affairs of Holstein so troublesome to regulate, and regarded them as a sample of what he would have one day to settle when the Empire of Russia fell to his lot, I thought he must look forward to that charge as something more oppressive still; thereupon he repeated what he had often said to me before—that he felt he was not born for Russia; that he did not suit the Russians nor the Russians him; and that he was persuaded he should perish in Russia. On this point I said to him what I had also said to him many a time before, that he ought not to allow himself to give way to so fatal an idea, but to do his best to make himself liked by every one in Russia, and to ask the Empress to allow him an opportunity of making himself acquainted with the affairs of the empire. I induced him even to ask permission to be present at the conferences which served as a council for the Empress. In fact, he did speak of this to the Schouvaloffs, who induced the Empress to admit him to these conferences whenever she was present at them herself. This was pretty nearly the same thing as settling that he should never be admitted, for after going with him once or twice, neither of them again attended.
The advice which I gave to the Grand Duke was, in general, good and salutary; but he who gives counsel can only do so in accordance with his own cast of mind and turn of thought—his own mode of action and manner of viewing things. But the great object of my counsels to the Grand Duke consisted in the fact that his way of doing things was quite different from mine, and the more we advanced in years the more marked did this difference become. I made it a point, in all things, to keep as close to truth as I possibly could, while he receded from it farther and farther every day, until at last he became a determined liar. As the way in which he became so is rather singular, I will state it, as it may perhaps display the course of the human mind on this point, and so be useful in showing how this vice may be prevented or corrected in those who may evince a tendency towards it. The first falsehood invented by the Grand Duke was told with a view of giving himself consequence in the eyes of some young married woman or girl, on whose ignorance he could count. He would tell her how, while still living with his father in Holstein, his father had put him at the head of a detachment of his guards and had sent him to seize a troop of gipsies who were prowling about Kiel and committing, he said, frightful robberies. These he would relate in detail, as also the several stratagems he had made use of to surround them and to engage them in one or many battles, in which he pretended to have performed prodigies of skill and valour, after which he had taken them prisoners and carried them to Kiel. At first he took care not to tell all this to any one but those who were ignorant of his history. By degrees he grew bold enough to produce his composition before those on whose discretion he could so far rely as not to fear a contradiction from them; but when he ventured to relate this story to me, I asked him how long before his father’s death it had taken place. He replied, without hesitation, “Three or four years.” “Well,” I said, “you began very young to show your prowess; for, three or four years before your father’s death, you were not more than six or seven years old, having been left, at the age of eleven, under the guardianship of my uncle, the Prince Royal of Sweden. And what equally astonishes me,” I observed, “is that your father, of whom you were the only son, and one too whose health, according to what I have been told, was always delicate at that period, should have sent you to fight against brigands, and that too at the early age of six or seven.” The Grand Duke became terribly angry at these remarks, saying that I disbelieved him and wished to represent him as a liar in the eyes of the world. I told him it was not I, but the almanac who threw discredit on his story; and that I left it to himself to judge whether it was possible, in the nature of things, that a child of six or seven, an only son, the heir-apparent of a principality, and the only hope of his father, should be sent to catch gipsies. He held his tongue, and I too; but he sulked with me for a long while. When, however, he had forgotten my remonstrances, he still continued to relate, even in my presence, this story, of which he gave endless variations. He afterwards made up another far more disgraceful, as well as more injurious to himself, which I will relate in its proper place. It would be impossible for me at present to tell all the dreams which he occasionally imagined and gave out as facts, but in which there was not a shadow of truth. The illustration I have given, will, I think, be sufficient for the present. One Thursday, towards the end of the Carnival, there being a ball in our apartments, I was sitting between the sister-in-law of Leon Narichkine and his sister, Madame Siniavine, and we were looking at Marine Ossipovna Sakrefskaïa, Maid of Honour to the Empress and niece of the Count Rasoumowsky, who was dancing a minuet. She was at this time slight and active, and it was said that Count Horn was very much in love with her. But as he was always in love with three women at a time, he also paid his addresses to the Countess Marie Romanovna Voronzoff and to Anne Alexievna Hitroff, who were likewise Maids of Honour to her Imperial Majesty. We thought that the first-mentioned danced well, and that she was rather pretty. She was dancing with Leon Narichkine. While talking on this subject, his sister-in-law and sister told me that his mother talked of marrying him to Mademoiselle Hitroff, a niece of the Schouvaloffs, on the side of her mother, who was the sister of Peter and Alexander Schouvaloff, and married to the father of Mademoiselle Hitroff. This gentleman was often at the Narichkines, and had so managed that Leon’s mother had conceived the idea of this marriage. Neither Madame Siniavine nor his sister-in-law were at all anxious for a connection with the Schouvaloffs, whom, as I have already said, they did not at all like, and as for Leon, he was not even aware that his mother was thinking of marrying him, while he was actually in love with the Countess Marie Voronzoff just spoken of. On hearing this, I told Mesdames Siniavine and Narichkine that we must not permit this marriage with Mademoiselle Hitroff, who was a person very much disliked, was intriguing, disagreeable, and boisterous, and that, to cut short all such ideas, we ought to give Leon a wife of our own sort. For this purpose I suggested the above-named niece of the Count Rasoumowsky, a lady of whom, besides, they were both very fond, and who was always at their house. My two friends greatly approved of my advice, and next day, as there was a masquerade at court, I addressed myself to Marshal Rasoumowsky, who was at that time Hetman of the Ukraine, and told him in plain terms that he was doing very wrong to allow his niece to lose such a desirable husband as Leon Narichkine; that his mother wished him to marry Mademoiselle Hitroff, but that Madame Siniavine, his sister-in-law, and myself, were agreed that his niece would be a more suitable person; and that therefore he ought, without loss of time, to make the proposal to the parties interested. The Marshal relished our project, spoke of it to his then factotum, Teploff, who at once went and spoke of it to the elder Count Rasoumowsky, who also gave his consent. The very next morning Teploff went to the Bishop of St. Petersburg, and purchased for fifty roubles the necessary dispensation. This being obtained, the Marshal and his wife went to their aunt, the mother of Leon, and managed so well that they gained her consent even against her own wishes. They were but just in time, for that very day she was to give her decision to M. Hitroff. This being done, Marshal Rasoumowsky, Mesdames Siniavine and Narichkine, broke the matter to Leon, and persuaded him to marry one of whom he had not even had a thought, while he was actually in love with another. She, however, was as good as promised to Count Boutourline. As for Madame Hitroff, he did not care for her at all. This consent being gained, the Marshal sent for his niece, and she felt that the match was too good to be refused. The next day, which was Sunday, the two Counts Rasoumowsky asked the Empress’ consent to the match, which she gave at once. The Schouvaloffs were astonished at the manner in which M. Hitroff and themselves also had been outwitted, for it was not until the consent of the Empress had been obtained that they even heard of the matter. However, the affair being settled, there was no help for it, and thus Leon, in love with one woman, and his mother wishing him to marry another, married a third, of whom neither he nor any one else had thought three days before. This marriage of Leon Narichkine united me still more closely than ever in friendship with the Counts Rasoumowsky, who were really grateful to me for having procured so excellent and so high a match for their niece, nor were they at all sorry at having got the better of the Schouvaloffs, who could not even complain, but were obliged to conceal their mortification. It was, moreover, an additional distinction which I had thus procured for them.
The amours of the Grand Duke with Madame Teploff were now in rather a languishing condition. One of the greatest obstacles in their way was the difficulty of seeing one another, and this vexed his Imperial Highness, who was no fonder of difficulties than he was of answering letters. At the end of the Carnival, his amours began to be a matter of party. The Princess of Courland informed me one day that Count Roman Voronzoff, the father of the two young ladies who were at the court, and who by the way was the horror of the Grand Duke, as were also his five children, was in the habit of speaking of the Grand Duke with very little respect or reserve.
Among other things, he said that if he thought proper he could easily convert the Duke’s antipathy into favour, it being only necessary to give a dinner to Brockdorf, let him have plenty of English beer to drink, and when going away, put six bottles of it into his pocket for his Imperial Highness, and then he and his youngest daughter would at once take the highest places in the Grand Duke’s favour. At the ball the same evening, I observed a good deal of whispering between his Imperial Highness and the Countess Marie Voronzoff, the eldest daughter of Count Roman, for this family had really become very intimate with the Schouvaloffs, with whom Brockdorf was always welcome. It would have given me anything but pleasure to have seen Mademoiselle Elizabeth Voronzoff come again into favour, and therefore, to put an additional obstacle in the way, I told the Grand Duke what the father had said, and what I have just related. He became almost furious, and demanded in great anger from whom I had heard this. For a long while I was unwilling to tell him, but he said that as I could not name any one, he should believe that I had myself made up this story in order to damage the character of both the father and daughters. It was in vain that I told him I had never in my life made up any such tale; I was obliged at last to name the Princess of Courland. He told me that he should instantly write her a note to London whether I had spoken the truth, and that should there be the least variation between our accounts, he would complain to the Empress of my intrigues and lies; and with these remarks he left the room. Fearing that the answer of the Princess might be in some degree equivocal, I wrote her a note saying, “In Heaven’s name, tell the truth purely and simply on the matter which you are going to be asked about.” My note was instantly despatched, and reached her in time, for it got before the Grand Duke’s. The Princess of Courland gave a truthful answer to his Imperial Highness, and he found that I had not told him a falsehood. This withheld him for some time from his “liaisons” with these two daughters of a man who had but little esteem for him, and whom besides he himself disliked. But in order to put an additional obstacle in the way, Leon Narichkine persuaded Count Rasoumowsky to invite the Duke to his house one or two evenings each week, quite in private. It was almost a partie quarrée, for no one was present at it but the Marshal, Marie Paolovna Narichkine, the Grand Duke, Madame Teploff, and Leon Narichkine. This went on for a good part of Lent, and gave rise to another idea. The Marshal’s house was at this time of wood. He received company in his wife’s apartments, and as they were both fond of play, there was always play there. The Marshal used to go backwards and forwards, and in his private apartments he had his own coterie, when the Grand Duke was not there. But as the Marshal had often been at my rooms in my little furtive parties, he wished our caterer to come in turn to his home. With this view, what he called his hermitage, which consisted of two or three rooms on the ground-floor, was destined for us. Every one was carefully concealed, because, as I have already said, we dared not go out without permission. By this arrangement there were three or four parties in the house; the Marshal went from one to the other, and mine was the only one that knew all that was going on in the house, whereas none knew that we were there.
Towards the spring M. Pechlin, minister of the Grand Duke for Holstein, died. The Grand Chancellor, Count Bestoujeff, foreseeing his death, had advised me to ask the Grand Duke to give the place to a certain M. Stambke. At the commencement of spring we went to Oranienbaum. Here our mode of life was the same as in previous years, with this exception, that the number of Holstein troops, and of adventurers who were appointed as officers over them, was augmented year by year; and as it was impossible to find quarters for them in the little village of Oranienbaum, where at the first there were no more than twenty-eight cottages, tents were pitched for these troops, whose number never exceeded 1300 men. The officers dined and supped at court; but as the number of ladies belonging to the court, together with the wives of the gentlemen, did not exceed fifteen or sixteen, and as his Imperial Highness was passionately fond of grand entertainments, which he frequently gave, both in his camp, and in every nook and corner of Oranienbaum, he admitted to these entertainments, not only the female singers and ballet-girls of his opera, but also a great many women of the middle class, of very bad character, who were brought to him from St. Petersburg. As soon as I was aware that these singing women, etc., were to be admitted, I abstained from attending, under pretext at first that I was taking the waters, and the greater part of the time I took my meals in my own rooms with two or three persons. I afterwards told the Grand Duke that I was afraid the Empress would be displeased if I appeared in so mixed a company; and, in fact, I never went when I knew that the hospitality was general, and therefore, whenever the Grand Duke wished me to come, none were admitted but the ladies of the court. At the masquerades which the Grand Duke gave at Oranienbaum, I never appeared otherwise than very simply dressed, without jewels or ornaments. This, too, had a good effect with the Empress, who neither liked nor approved of these fêtes at Oranienbaum, which really became orgies; and yet she tolerated them, or at least did not forbid them. I was informed that her Imperial Highness said, “These fêtes give no more pleasure to the Grand Duchess than they do to me; she goes to them dressed in the simplest manner possible, and never sups with the crowd admitted to them.” I occupied myself at this time at Oranienbaum in building and planting what is there called my garden, and the rest of the time I took exercise either in walking, riding, or driving, and in my own room I read.
In the month of July we heard that Memel had surrendered on terms to the Russian troops on the 24th of June, and in August the news arrived of the Battle of Gross-Jægersdorf, won by the Russian army on the 19th of that month. On the day of the Te Deum, I gave a grand entertainment in my garden to the Grand Duke, and to all the most distinguished people at Oranienbaum, at which the Grand Duke and all the company appeared very gay, and very much pleased. This diminished for the moment the pain which the Grand Duke felt at the war which had just broken out between Russia and the King of Prussia, for which ever since his boyhood he had felt a singular inclination. This at the first was natural enough, but in the end it degenerated into madness. At this time the public joy at the success of the arms of Russia obliged him to dissemble his real sentiments, which were that he saw with regret the defeat of the Prussian troops, which he regarded as invincible. On that day I had an ox roasted for the masons and laborers at Oranienbaum.