“I do not know, your Majesty.”
“Not know?” cried the Czar in surprise; “request then the general commanding the troops at Peterhof to present himself immediately.”
The general appeared. “General,” said the Czar, “why is that soldier stationed in yonder isolated place?”
“I beg leave to inform your Majesty that it is in accordance with an ancient custom,” replied the general evasively.
“What was the origin of the custom?” inquired Bismarck.
“I—I do not at present recollect,” stammered the officer.
“Investigate, and report the result,” said Alexander.
So the investigation began, and after three days and nights of incessant labor, it was ascertained that some eighty years before, Catherine II., looking out one spring morning from the windows of this palace of Peterhof, observed in the centre of this lawn, the first May-flower of the season, lifting its delicate head above the lately frozen soil.
She ordered a soldier to stand there to prevent its being plucked. The order was inscribed upon the books; and thus for eighty years, in summer and in winter, in sunshine and in storm, a sentinel had stood upon that spot, no one apparently, until the time of Bismarck, caring to question the reason of his so doing! Such was, and is, the absolutism of the government of the Czars!
Catherine had long resolved that one of her granddaughters should be queen of Sweden.