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 misappropriation, 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.

As soon as I learned that Brockdorff ’s machinations had prevailed in such an unjust cause over me and all that I had argued to the Grand Duke, I firmly resolved to make Monsieur Brockdorff feel the brunt of my indignation. I said to Zeitz and I had it reported to Pechlin that from this moment I regarded Brockdorff as a plague that we must avoid and remove from the Grand Duke’s presence if possible. I myself would go to any lengths to see this through. Indeed, I made a point of showing on every occasion, both public and private, the disgust and horror that this man’s conduct had inspired in me. There was no kind of ridicule to which he was not subjected, and when the occasion presented itself, I left no one unaware of what I thought of him. Lev Naryshkin and other young people of our court assisted me in this. When Monsieur Brockdorff passed through the room, everyone cried out after him,  which was his epithet,¹²⁶ since this bird was the most hideous known, and Monsieur Brockdorff was as hideous on the outside as on the inside. He was tall, with a long neck and a thick, flat head. He had red hair and wore a wig of brass wire. His eyes were small, set back in his head and almost without lids or brows. The corners of his mouth drooped toward his chin, which always gave him a miserable, nasty look. As for his inner qualities, I refer to what I have already said. But I will also add that he was so full of vice that he took money from whoever wanted to give it to him. To keep his august master from ever reprimanding him for his misappropriations, he persuaded the Grand Duke, who he knew was always in need of money, to do the same. He acquired as much money as he could for him by selling Holstein orders and titles to whoever wanted to pay for them, or by having the Grand Duke make appeals, or by promoting all kinds of deals in the different regions of the empire and in the senate. These deals were often unjust and sometimes even onerous for the empire, such as the monopolies and other grants that otherwise would never have passed because they broke Peter I’s laws. In addition, Monsieur Brockdorff immersed the Grand Duke more than ever in drink and villainy, having surrounded him with a pack of fortune hunters and people drawn from the guard corps and taverns of both Germany and Petersburg, who had no morals, and did nothing but drink, eat, smoke, and speak coarsely about nonsense. Seeing that despite all I said and did against Monsieur Brockdorff to weaken his standing he maintained himself in the Grand Duke’s favor and was more in favor than ever, I resolved to tell Count Alexander Shuvalov what I thought about him, adding that I regarded this man as one of the most dangerous creatures one could possibly place with a young Prince, heir to a great empire, and that in good conscience I found myself obliged to speak to him in confidence so that he could warn the Empress or take such measures as he saw fit. He asked if he might quote me. I said yes, and that if the Empress asked me herself, I would not mince words but say what I knew and saw. Count Alexander Shuvalov twitched his eye, listening to me very seriously, but he was not a man to act without the advice of his brother Peter and cousin Ivan. For quite a while he did not contact me. Then he let me know that the Empress might want to speak with me.

Meanwhile, one fine morning I saw the Grand Duke skip into my room and his secretary Zeitz run after him with a paper in his hand. The Grand Duke said to me, “Take a look at this devil of a man. I drank too much yesterday. I am still completely hung over today, and here he is bringing me a sheet of paper and it is only the accounts register that he wants me to finish. He even follows me into your room.” Zeitz said to me, “Everything I have here is only a simple matter of yes or no. It will only take fifteen minutes.” I said, “But let us see now, perhaps you will finish sooner than you think.” Zeitz began to read, and as he spoke, I myself said yes or no. This pleased the Grand Duke, and Zeitz said to him, “You see, my lord, if you consented twice a week to do this, your affairs would not come to a halt. These are only trifles, but they must be taken care of, and the Grand Duchess has finished this with six yes’s and as many no’s, more or less.” From that day on, His Imperial Highness decided to send Zeitz to me every time that he had yes’s or no’s to ask about. After some time, I told him to give me a signed order concerning what I could or could not decide without his permission, which he did. Only Pechlin, Zeitz, the Grand Duke, and I knew of this arrangement, which delighted Pechlin and Zeitz. When it came to signing, the Grand Duke signed according to what I had decided. The d’Elendsheim affair remained under Brockdorff ’s supervision. But as d’Elendsheim had been arrested, Monsieur Brockdorff was in no rush to conclude the affair, because this was more or less what he had wanted, that is, to distance this man from governmental affairs and to show those in Holstein his standing with his master.

I chose a day on which I found the occasion, or moment, favorable to tell the Grand Duke that though he found the affairs of Holstein so boring to manage and regarded them as a burden, nevertheless they were only a small sample of what he would one day have to manage when the Russian empire passed to him. I thought that he ought to envisage that moment as a much greater weight. He again repeated what he had said to me many times. He felt that he had not been born for Russia, that he did not suit the Russians nor the Russians him, and that he was convinced that he would die in Russia. On this subject I too told him what I had told him many times before, to wit, that he must not give in to this fatalistic idea, but do his best to make himself loved by every Russian and ask the Empress to put him in a position where he could learn about the Empire’s affairs. I even urged him to request a place in the conferences that served as the Empress’s council.¹²⁷ He did speak about this to the Shuvalovs, who urged the Empress to admit him to this conference every time she herself attended. This was the same as saying he would not be admitted, because she went with him two or three times and then neither of them went anymore.

The advice I gave the Grand Duke was generally sound and beneficial, but he who advises can do so only according to his own mind and own manner of conceiving and handling matters. Now the great defect of my advice to the Grand Duke was that his way of acting and managing was entirely different from mine, and as we grew older, it became more so. Always and in all matters I tried to get as close as possible to the truth, while he distanced himself from it daily, to the point that he became an inveterate liar. As the manner in which this happened was quite singular, I am going to speak about it. Perhaps this will advance human understanding of this phenomenon and in that way serve to prevent this vice or correct it in whoever has a penchant for lying. The first lie that the Grand Duke dreamed up came in order to make himself appealing to some young woman or girl. Counting on her ignorance, he told her that while he was still at his father’s house in Holstein, his father had placed him in charge of a squad of his guards and had sent him to capture a troop of Egyptians who prowled in the environs of Kiel and committed, so he said, ghastly acts of robbery. He recounted these acts in detail, as well as the ruses that he had employed to pursue, surround, and combat them once or several times, during which he claimed to have accomplished great feats of skill and valor, and then to have captured the Egyptians and taken them to Kiel. At first he took the precaution of recounting all this only to people who knew nothing about the matter. Little by little he grew bold enough to recount his tale before those whose discretion he could trust would keep them from refuting him. But when he began to try this tale out in my presence, I asked him how long before his father’s death it had taken place. Without hesitating, he replied, “Three or four years.” Well then, I said, you began to accomplish your feats of arms very young, because three or four years before the death of your father the Duke you were only six or seven, since at age eleven you were left by your father in the guardianship of my uncle, the Royal Prince of Sweden. What astonishes me equally, I said, is that your father, having you as his only son and your health having always been delicate in your youth, as I have been told, sent you to fight these robbers, and what is more, at the age of six or seven. The Grand Duke got terribly angry with me for what I had just said and told me that I wanted to make him look like a liar in front of everyone and that I was discrediting him. I told him that it was not I but the almanac that discredited what he was recounting, that I would let him judge for himself if it was humanly possible to send a little child of six or seven, an only son and hereditary Prince, his father’s entire hope, to capture Egyptians. He fell silent and I did too, and he was angry with me for a very long time, but when he had forgotten my reproach, even in my presence he did not stop spinning this tale, which he varied endlessly. After this he made up another one, infinitely more shameful and harmful to him, which I will relate when the time comes. It would be impossible for me to tell at present of all the fantasies he often imagined and presented as facts and which did not have a shadow of truth. I think this example suffices.

One Thursday toward the end of carnival, when there was a ball at our residence, while I was sitting between Lev Naryshkin’s sister-in-law and her sister, Madame Seniavina, we watched Marina Osipovna Zakrevskaia, the Empress’s maid of honor and a niece of the Counts Razumovsky, dance the minuet. She was graceful and light-footed then, 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 the same time, he was also courting Countess Maria Romanovna Vorontsova and Anna Alekseevna Khitrova, also a maid of honor to Her Imperial Majesty. We found that Countess Vorontsova danced well and was rather pretty; she danced with Lev Naryshkin. As for Lev Naryshkin, his sister-in-law and sister told me that his mother spoke of marrying him to Mademoiselle Khitrova, a niece of the Shuvalovs by her mother, who was a sister of Peter and Alexander and had been married to Mademoiselle Khitrova’s father. This man often came to the Naryshkins’ house and managed to plant the idea of this marriage in the mind of Lev Naryshkin’s mother. Neither Madame Seniavina nor her sister-in-law cared at all to be related to the Shuvalovs, whom they did not like, as I have said. As for Lev, he did not even know that his mother was thinking about marrying him off. He was in love with Countess Maria Vorontsova, of whom I have just spoken. Hearing this, I said to Mesdames Seniavina and Naryshkina that we had to prevent this marriage with Mademoiselle Khitrova that the mother was negotiating. No one could tolerate her, because she was scheming, gossipy, and slanderous, and I said that to dispel such notions, we had to give Lev a woman to our liking and for this purpose choose the aforementioned niece of the Counts Razumovsky, who were also friends and allies of the house of Naryshkin. Moreover, Count Kirill Razumovsky was much loved by these two ladies and always in their house when they were not at his. The ladies strongly approved my idea. As there was a masquerade at the court the following day, I spoke to Marshal Razumovsky, who at the time was Hetman of Ukraine, and I told him clearly that he made a mistake in letting a match like Lev Naryshkin get away from his niece, that Lev’s mother wanted to marry him to Mademoiselle Khitrova, but that Madame Seniavina, her sister-in-law Madame Naryshkina, and I agreed that his niece would be a more suitable match and that without wasting any time, he should go make the proposal to the interested parties. The Marshal approved of our plan and spoke about it with Teplov, his factotum at the time, who immediately went to discuss it with the elder Count Razumovsky, who consented. The following day, Teplov went to the Bishop of Petersburg’s residence to purchase the permission or dispensation for fifty rubles. Having obtained this, Marshal Razumovsky and his wife went to the house of their aunt, Lev’s mother, and there they handled things so deftly that they got the mother to consent to what she did not want. They came at exactly the right time, because that very day, she was supposed to give her word to Monsieur Khitrov. This done, Marshal Razumovsky, Mesdames Seniavina and her sister-in-law Naryshkina buttonholed Lev and persuaded him to marry the one whom he had not even considered. He consented though he loved another woman, but she was practically promised to Count Buturlin. As for Mademoiselle Khitrova, he did not care for her at all. Having obtained this agreement, the Marshal had his niece come to his house, and she found the marriage too advantageous to refuse. On the following day, Sunday, the two Counts Razumovsky requested the Empress’s consent for this marriage, which she gave immediately. Messieurs Shuvalov were astonished by the way in which Khitrov and they too had been thwarted, learning of the affair only after the Empress’s consent had been obtained. The affair resolved, no one could get over how Lev, who was in love with one maiden, and whose mother wanted him to marry another, married a third, about whom neither he nor anyone else had been thinking three days earlier. Lev Naryshkin’s marriage linked me more strongly than ever in friendship with the Counts Razumovsky, who were truly grateful to me for having procured such a good and advantageous match for their niece, nor were they at all upset to have gotten the upper hand over the Shuvalovs, who were not even able to complain about it and were obliged to conceal their humiliation. This was yet one more advantage that I had obtained for them.

The Grand Duke’s affair with Madame Teplova was on its last legs. One of the greatest obstacles to this affair was the difficulty they had in seeing each other. It was always furtively, and this annoyed His Imperial Highness, who liked these difficulties no more than he liked responding to the letters he received. At the end of carnival, their love affair became a matter of factional politics. The Princess of Courland informed me one day that Count Roman Vorontsov, the father of two young maidens at the court, and who I should say in passing was the bête noire of the Grand Duke and also of his own five children, was making immoderate remarks about the Grand Duke. Among other things, he was saying that if he so desired, he could easily put an end to the hatred that the Grand Duke bore him and change it into favor; he had only to offer a meal to Brockdorff, give him English beer to drink, and, when he left, put six bottles in his pocket for His Imperial Highness, and then he and his youngest daughter would rank first in the Grand Duke’s favor. At the ball this same evening I noticed much whispering between His Imperial Highness and Countess Maria Vorontsova, the youngest daughter of Count Roman, and since this family was on very intimate terms with the Shuvalovs, at whose house Brockdorff was always quite welcome, I was not pleased to see that Mademoiselle Elizabeth Vorontsova might return to a position of favor. To help prevent this, I told the Grand Duke about her father’s remark, which I have just described. He almost flew into a rage and asked me with great anger from whom I had heard this. I refrained from telling him for a long moment. He told me that since I could not name anyone, he supposed that it was I who had invented this story to undermine the father and his daughters. No matter how much I told him that I had never in my life made up such stories, I was obliged in the end to name the Princess of Courland. He told me that he was going to write her a note immediately to find out if I was telling the truth and that if there was the slightest variation between what she replied and what I had just told him, he would complain to the Empress about our schemes and lies. After this he left my room. Apprehensive about what the Princess of Courland would say to him and fearing that she would equivocate, I wrote a note to her and said, “In the name of God, tell the pure and simple truth about what you will be asked.” My note was delivered immediately and arrived in time, because it preceded that of the Grand Duke. The Princess of Courland responded to His Imperial Highness with truthfulness and he found that I had not lied. For some time this restrained his liaisons with the two daughters of a man who had so little respect for him and whom he disliked anyway. But in order to put up yet one more obstacle, Lev Naryshkin persuaded Marshal Razumovsky to invite the Grand Duke very secretly to his house one or two evenings a week. It was almost a couples gathering because only the Marshal, Maria Pavlovna Naryshkina, the Grand Duke, Madame Teplova, and Lev Naryshkin were there. This lasted for part of Lent and gave rise to another idea. At the time, the Marshal’s house was made of wood. The group assembled in his wife’s apartment, and as both the Marshal and his wife loved to play cards, there was always a game going. The Marshal came and went and had his coterie in his own apartment when the Grand Duke did not come. But since the Marshal had been to my residence with my secret little coterie several times, he wanted this group to come to his house. For this purpose, what he called his hermitage, which comprised two or three apartments on the ground floor, was assigned to us. We all hid from one another because we did not dare go out, as I have said, without permission. So by this arrangement there were three or four groups in the house and the Marshal went from one to the other, and only mine knew everything that was happening in the house, while no one knew that we were there.

Toward spring, Monsieur Pechlin, the Grand Duke’s Minister for Holstein, died.¹²⁸ Grand Chancellor Count Bestuzhev, foreseeing his death, had advised that I ask the Grand Duke to name a certain Monsieur de Stambke, who was sent for to replace Monsieur Pechlin. The Grand Duke gave him signed permission to work with me, which he did. By this arrangement I had unfettered communication with Count Bestuzhev, who trusted Stambke. At the beginning of spring we went to Oranienbaum.¹²⁹ Here our lifestyle was as it had been in previous years, except that the number of soldiers from Holstein and fortune hunters who were stationed there as officers increased from year to year, and as lodging could not be found for this crowd in the little village of Oranienbaum, where at first there had been only twenty-eight huts, these troops were made to set up camp, their number never exceeding thirteen hundred men. The officers ate dinner and supper at the court. But as the number of women from the court and of gentlemen’s wives did not exceed fifteen or sixteen, and as His Imperial Highness passionately loved grand meals, which he frequently gave both in his camp and in all the nooks and crannies at Oranienbaum, he invited not only the female singers and dancers from his opera to these meals, but many very vulgar, bourgeois women, who were brought to him from Petersburg. As soon as I learned that the singers etc. would be invited to these meals, I refrained from going, at first under the pretext that I was taking the waters, and most of the time I ate in my room with two or three people. Later I said to the Grand Duke that I was afraid that the Empress would find it improper for me to appear in such mixed company, and in truth, I never went when I knew that the hospitality was indiscriminate, so that when the Grand Duke wanted me to come, only the ladies from the court were invited. I went to the masquerades that the Grand Duke gave at Oranienbaum only in very simple outfits, without jewelry or finery. This made a very good impression on the Empress, who neither liked nor approved of these parties at Oranienbaum, where the meals became veritable bacchanalia, but nevertheless she tolerated them or at least did not forbid them. I learned that Her Imperial Majesty said, “These parties please the Grand Duchess no more than they do me. She goes there dressed as simply as she can and never has supper with all who come.” At the time, I busied myself at Oranienbaum with building and planting what was called my garden, and the rest of the time I took walks, went riding, or drove in a cabriolet, and when I was in my room, I read.

In the month of July we learned that Memel had agreed to surrender to Russian troops on June 24. And in the month of August we received the news of the battle of Gross Jägerndorf, won by the Russian army on August 19. The day of the Te Deum¹³⁰ I gave a large banquet in my garden for the Grand Duke and all of the most important people at Oranienbaum, and at it the Grand Duke and the entire company seemed as joyful as they were satisfied. This momentarily diminished the pain that the Grand Duke felt over the war that had just been declared between Russia and the King of Prussia, of whom he had been extremely fond since childhood. What was at first in no way excessive degenerated into mania later on.¹³¹ The public joy over the Russian military’s success at that time forced the Grand Duke to dissimulate his true thoughts, because he regretted the defeat of the Prussian troops, whom he had regarded as invincible. I had a roast ox given to the masons and workers at Oranienbaum on that day.

A few days after this banquet, we returned to the city, where we went to reside in the Summer Palace. Here Count Alexander Shuvalov came to tell me one evening that the Empress was in his wife’s room and was summoning me there to speak with her as I had desired the previous winter. I immediately went to Count and Countess Shuvalov’s apartment, which was at the end of my apartment. I found the Empress there alone. After I had kissed her hand and she had kissed me as was her custom, she did me the honor of telling me that having learned that I wished to speak with her, she had come today to learn what I wanted to say. Now, at that time it had been eight months and more since my conversation with Alexander Shuvalov about Brockdorff. I replied to Her Imperial Majesty that the previous winter, seeing Monsieur Brockdorff ’s conduct, I had believed it indispensable to speak about it with Count Alexander Shuvalov, so that he could inform Her Imperial Majesty. He had asked me if he could quote me, and I had said to him that if Her Imperial Majesty wished it, I would repeat to her myself everything I had said and knew. Then I recounted the story of d’Elendsheim as it had happened. She appeared to listen to me with great coldness, then asked me for details about the Grand Duke’s private life and his entourage. With the greatest truthfulness I told her everything I knew. When I gave her several details concerning the affairs of Holstein that made her see that I knew them quite well, she said, “You seem well-informed about this country.” I replied simply that it was not difficult to be informed, the Grand Duke having ordered me to learn about it. I saw from the Empress’s face that this confession made an unpleasant impression on her. In general she seemed to me to be extremely reserved the entire conversation, during which she questioned me so as to make me speak and hardly said a word, so that this interview seemed to me more a kind of interrogation on her part than a confidential conversation. Finally she dismissed me as coldly as she had received me, and I was perplexed by my audience, which Alexander Shuvalov suggested I keep very secret, and I promised him this. In any case there was nothing to boast about. Back in my apartment, I attributed the Empress’s coldness to the antipathy that the Shuvalovs had provoked in her against me, about which I had long been warned. We will see later the detestable use, if I may say so, that she was persuaded to make of this conversation between her and me.

Sometime later we learned that Marshal Apraksin, far from taking advantage of his successes after the capture of Memel and the victory at the battle of Gross Jägerndorf and advancing, withdrew with such speed that this retreat resembled a rout because he discarded and burned his equipment and spiked his cannons. Nobody understood the reasons for this operation. Even his friends did not know how to defend him, and as a result people looked for the hidden motives. Although I myself do not know exactly how to explain the Marshal’s precipitous and incoherent retreat, having never seen him again, nevertheless I think that the cause could have been that he received quite precise news about the Empress’s health, which was going from bad to worse, from his daughter, Princess Kurakina, still linked by politics though not by inclination to Peter Shuvalov; from his son-in-law, Prince Kurakin; and from his friends and relatives. At the time most people had begun to believe that every month she was regularly having very strong convulsions, that these convulsions visibly weakened her organs, and that after each convulsion she was in such a state of weakness, diminished mental ability, and abnormal drowsiness for two, three, or four days that during this time no one could talk or discuss anything at all with her. Marshal Apraksin, perhaps believing that the danger was more pressing than it was, had not judged it the right moment to drive farther into Prussia, but had believed he should fall back to be nearer the Russian border under the pretext of a lack of provisions, foreseeing that in the event of the Empress’s death this war would end immediately. It is difficult to justify Marshal Apraksin’s actions, but such may have been his views, especially since he believed himself needed in Russia, as I said earlier in discussing his departure. Count Bestuzhev sent Stambke to tell me about the way Marshal Apraksin had conducted himself; the Imperial Ambassador and the French Ambassador were complaining loudly about it. Bestuzhev begged me to write the Marshal as his friend and to join my entreaties to his own to make him turn his march around and put an end to a retreat that his enemies were interpreting in an odious and sinister way. I did indeed write a letter to Marshal Apraksin in which I warned him of the harmful rumors in Petersburg and how his friends had had great trouble in defending the speed of his retreat, begging him to turn his march around and to fulfill the orders he had from the government. Grand Chancellor Count Bestuzhev sent him this letter. Marshal Apraksin did not reply to me.

Meanwhile, we saw the Empress’s director general of construction, General Fermor, leave Petersburg and take his leave of us. We were told that he was departing to take a post in the army. He had formerly been the quartermaster general for Marshal Münnich. General Fermor’s first request was to retain the brigadiers Riazanov and Mordvinov, his employees or superintendents of construction, and with them he left for the army. They were military men who had done almost nothing but execute building contracts. As soon as he arrived, he was ordered to take command from Marshal Apraksin, who was recalled, and when he returned, he found an order at Triruki to remain there and await the Empress’s orders. These were a long time in coming because his friends, his daughter, and Peter Shuvalov did everything in the world they could, moving heaven and earth, to calm the Empress’s anger, which had been fomented by the Vorontsovs, Count Buturlin, Ivan Shuvalov, and others, who were pushed by the ambassadors from the courts of Versailles and Vienna to bring Apraksin to trial. Finally a commission was named to investigate him. After the first interrogation, Marshal Apraksin was seized by a bout of apoplexy, from which he died within about twenty-four hours.¹³² General Lieven must certainly have been involved in this trial as well. He was Apraksin’s friend and confidant. I would have been grieved even more at this because Lieven was very sincerely devoted to me. But whatever friendship I felt for Lieven and Apraksin, I can swear that I was perfectly unaware of the reason for their conduct, and of their conduct itself, although some tried to spread the rumor that it was to please the Grand Duke and myself that they had retreated instead of advancing. At times Lieven made quite singular shows of his devotion to me. For example, one day when the Ambassador from the Viennese court, Count Esterhazy, was giving a masquerade, which the Empress and the entire court attended, Lieven saw me cross the room and said to his neighbor, who at that moment was Count Poniatowski, “There is a woman for whom an honest man would suffer a few blows of the knout without regret.” I heard this anecdote from Count Poniatowski himself, since made King of Poland.¹³³