The Shadow of Tyburn Tree (44 page)

On reaching the end of the galleries the Empress was led into a huge octagonal ballroom, a large part of which was railed off. Only members of the aristocracy were allowed beyond the rail, and Roger stood by it for a few moments. He had just watched the Empress seat herself under a canopy when he received a sharp rap on the arm with a fan, and turned to see Natalia smiling at him.

‘Ah, there you are!' he exclaimed. ‘I was near fearing that I should miss you altogether in such a multitude. Never before
have I seen so great a concourse of people assembled under one roof.'

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Methinks that Versailles can be but a paltry palace, then; or perhaps it is that your King Louis is too close-fisted to entertain with the lavishness becoming to a sovereign. I doubt if Alexis has more than three thousand people here tonight, and that is no great number compared to the eight or ten thousand who attend the masked-balls that the Empress gives in winter as the Peterhof:'

‘It amazes me to hear that there are ten thousand gentry all to be found in this one city,' he replied, as he gave her his arm.

‘Oh, they are not all persons of quality,' she shrugged. ‘Merchants, small landowners, professional men, and foreigners staying in the Residence, are all admitted on the production of a card; and cards are obtainable on request from anyone about the court.'

‘I should have thought that the Empress would have been greatly averse to lending her countenance to such motley assemblies.'

‘On the contrary. The earth is hers and all that is upon it; and it gives her pleasure to lavish something of its bounties as frequently as occasion offers on all classes of her subjects.'

‘Why were you not in her train when she made her entrance, just now?' Roger inquired.

Natalia smiled up at him. ‘Because I am not in attendance on her this evening. I thought you would enjoy our spending it together, so I begged her to excuse-me and she readily agreed.'

Roger squeezed her hand. ‘That was sweet of you. I vow I'll derive a thousand times more pleasure from this party than I could otherwise have done.'

As they talked they had gradually moved forward to within a few yards of the Empress. No western Court could conceivably have rivalled the semi-oriental magnificence of the costumes of the men grouped about her; yet there was a refreshing lack of restraint about their attitude in her presence. They spoke to her with respect but without servility, and she laughed good-naturedly at the jokes they cracked.

The band had struck up a gavotte, and she was just sending her ladies out to dance, when Natalia Andreovna caught the royal glance. Floating into a graceful curtsey she said: ‘Katerina Alexeyevna, may I present to your gracious Majesty Rojé Christorovitch, Chevalier de Breuc, the young French gentleman of whom I spoke to you; he who escorted me back from Sweden.'

Catherine smiled and nodded, upon which Roger stepped
forward and made a deep obeisance. As he straightened himself, she beckoned him to her and gave him her plump hand to kiss; then she held him in conversation for several minutes. She asked him how long it was since he had left Paris, the latest gossip of the French Court, if he was interested in literature and painting, who his favourite authors were, and a dozen other questions; to all of which he gave swift, concise answers, his usual quick inventiveness coming to his aid in cases where he was compelled to make them up.

She appeared much pleased with his prompt replies, as she concluded the interview by saying: ‘ 'Tis common knowledge that I have a great fondness and admiration for the genius of your country, and I count you a true representative of it. 'Tis my wish that you should carry away a good impression of Russia; so should you find yourself incommoded in any way while you are here, or lack for money, do not hesitate to apply to me through your Ambassador. Now take that little bag of bones, the Baroness Stroganof, away and dance with her.'

Murmuring his thanks, Roger kissed the plump, heavily be-ringed hand again, and bowed his way back into the crowd. Natalia Andreovna congratulated him on the excellent reception with which he had been favoured, and added with a slight touch of spite: ‘Katinka does not usually converse with strangers who are of no special importance for so long. Momonof will have to look to his laurels, or he will find himself supplanted by you.'

‘God forbid!' laughed Roger. ‘I take it that Momonof was the tall, sulky-looking fellow, seated on a
tabouret
to the Empress's left. He has been the reigning favourite for some time, has he not?'

She nodded. ‘Yes, for well over a year. He was another of Potemkin's protégés; but he is a vain, stupid oaf and now seeks to bite the hand that elevated him. His reign may be abruptly terminated at any time, as he is not even faithful to the Empress. He is also the lover of the Princess Scherbatof, and everyone except Katinka knows it. So it needs but a word in her ear from someone who bears him malice to secure his dismissal.'

After dancing for a little they made a leisurely progress through the other apartments. Five orchestras were now playing a variety of French, Russian and German dance music, so dancing as well as feasting was in full swing in most of the rooms. Natalia pointed out various high dignitaries of the Court to Roger and introduced him to a number of her friends. From time to time they joined in a dance themselves, and between dances ate and drank of the lavish refreshments.

The Empress had arrived at six o'clock and at about nine they drifted back to the main ballroom, to find the centre of the floor occupied by a troupe of tumblers, who were essaying the most amazing feats for her amusement. Three performing elephants were then led in, and after them an Italian prima donna sang most gloriously. The entertainment was concluded by a grand parade representing the might of Catherine's realm. For it Orlof had mobilised large detachments of warriors from all over the empire, and resplendent in their native costumes, Kalmucks, Tartars, Laplanders, Yakuts, Kazbecks, Circassians and Don Cossacks all streamed past the throne, shouting their wild war-cries and excitedly firing bullets off into the ceiling.

When the pandemonium had died down dancing was resumed; than, at a little before eleven, a sudden hush fell again on the whole brilliant gathering while the Empress was escorted back to the doors of the palace by Orlof, and took her departure. But the party showed no signs of breaking up; the sweating fiddlers, boosted with generous wine, sawed more vigorously at their violins, often joining in the dances themselves; the dancing became faster and more abandoned; the drinking and shouting of healths more unrestrained.

Their giant host was sitting moodily on the lower steps of a side staircase with an empty, gem-encrusted tankard dangling from his great hand.

‘Why do you look so glum, Alexi?' Natalia Andreovna inquired. ‘Was not Katinka pleased with this fine entertainment you have given her?'

‘Aye, the old bitch was pleased enough,' he mumbled ungraciously. ‘But I am bored. Time was when I enjoyed this sort of thing, but now it seems to me nought but foolishness.'

‘That is because you are getting old,' she mocked him,

It was obvious that he was three-parts drunk, but a sudden gleam came into his dull eye, and he stood up.

‘I'm not too old to give you a good tumble still, my pretty. Come upstairs and join me in a cup of wine.'

She shook her head and indicated Roger. ‘Nay, I thank you. I am pledged for this evening to Monsieur le Chevalier de Breuc.'

The High Admiral returned Roger's bow with a morose stare. A few years earlier it would have been typical of him to knock his young guest down with one blow of his great fist and carry Natalia Andreovna upstairs on his back. To do so did occur to him, but he felt too tired to bother, so he grunted: ‘As you will. Bring him upstairs too, then. I am sick of the sight of all these stupid people.'

They followed him up to a landing and across it to a suite of rooms on the first floor at the back of the house. The one they entered could best be described as a study, and an open door led to a bedroom beyond it. Both rooms were in a state of chaotic disorder. They did not look as though they had been cleaned for a decade, and smelt abominably; yet their contents were worth a fortune. About them were scattered sable cloaks, weapons of all kinds encrusted with precious gems, jewelled ikons, gold baldrics, top-boots, pictures of ships and naval charts. In one corner a chained ape was quietly chattering to itself, and another was occupied by a great pile of empty bottles.

‘What'll you drink?' asked their host, thickly, as he pulled open a cabinet; ‘Tokay, Malmsey, Vodka, Champagne, French Brandy?'

Natalia Andreovna chose champagne and Roger said he would join her. Orlof handed him a bottle and, while he opened it, swept a mass of documents mixed up with gaming chips from the table to the floor, then produced three crystal goblets. All of them were dirty, but he took no heed of that. Knocking the head off a bottle of cognac with one swift, practised, blow against the table edge, he slopped half its contents into one of the goblets for himself, and slumped into a high-backed chair.

Roger poured the champagne, and lifting their glasses to each other, they drank. After a couple of big gulps of the brandy Orlof set down his glass and declared: ‘That's better! That's a real man's drink. I wouldn't insult my stomach with that fizzy muck you're drinking, Chevalier. But young men are all the same, these days. They're girls, not men as they were in my time.'

Seizing on this golden opportunity to win so important a man's regard and confidence, Roger replied with a laugh. ‘That may be so in Russia, Excellency, but 'tis not so in France. I may not have your capacity, but I'll drink bottle for bottle with you any time till one of us is under the table.'

‘Well said,' exclaimed the Count, clapping him on the shoulder with sudden affability, ‘I'd see you under the table seven times out of seven; but 'tis good to meet a youngster for once who is not afraid to drink man's liquor. Pour that filth you're drinking into the monkey's pot and fetch yourself a bottle of brandy.'

Roger did as he was bid, and as he settled himself down again Orlof continued with a sad shake of his leonine head. ‘The youth of France may still be virile; but in Russia 'tis now pestiferous. For a decade or more the Empress has surrounded
herself with a riffraff of weaklings who are capable of nought but scribbling poetry or painting pictures. When my brother and I raised her to the throne 'twas vastly different. She was dependant then on us rough soldiers, but we gave her an empire and made her the mightiest sovereign in the world. Aye, we fought, and drank, and leched like men in those days, and stood no nonsense from Katinka either. To see her now you'd never realise what a monstrous handsome baggage she was as a young woman, and 'twas a joy to smack her bottom when she got foolish ideas into her pretty head.'

‘I would that I had been a girl then,' Natalia Andreovna remarked. ‘Life at the time of the
coup d'état
must have been prodigious exciting. Tell us about it, Alexi?'

‘You've heard the story often enough,' he grumbled; but evidently he enjoyed recalling the bold stroke that had lifted him from a poor soldier to great fortune, as after very little pressing from Natalia he started off reminiscently.

‘I doubt if the conspiracy would ever have taken place had not Peter the Third been a fool, a weakling and a traitor. With all her faults, the Empress Elizabeth was a true Russian, but her nephew was born a German and remained a German all his life. Bringing him here at the age of fourteen and changing his name from Karl Peter Ulric to Peter Feodorovitch did not have the same effect as changing Katinka's name did on her, when she was brought here three years later to marry him. As he grew up he developed a passionate admiration for Frederick the Great. Well, I've nothing against youngsters playing at soldiers, but the men of his bodyguard didn't like it when he put them into Prussian uniforms. They liked it even less during the last years of Elizabeth's reign, when we were at war with Prussia. Yet worse, as Grand Duke and Heir-Apparent he was a member of the Royal Council, and time and again he used his position to betray our plans.'

Orlof spat on the floor in disgust. In spite of that we had old martinet Frederick rocking on his pins and our armies were on the very point of taking Berlin. Then the Empress died. Without even having the decency to inform his allies in Vienna and Versailles of his intentions, Peter Feodorovitch made peace; and a shameful peace at that. He bartered the fruits of all the victories won by Russian lives and blood for the Prussian Order of the Black Eagle, and went about proud as a peacock, flaunting it on his chest.'

‘What a monstrous thing to do,' Roger remarked feelingly.

‘ 'Twas indeed,' Orlof nodded. ‘And he disgusted us further by his affair with Elizaveta Romanovna Vorontzoff. It seems that while she was his mistress as Grand Duke, he had promised
her that when he came to the throne he would put away Katinka and make her Czarina instead. Katinka had been slipping out of one of the palace-windows at night for years past, to go in disguise to Yelaguin's house in order to keep assignations there with Poniatowsky—the fellow she afterwards made King of Poland—so Peter had ample grounds for divorcing her, but he hadn't got the guts. His failure to carry out his promise resulted in some frightful scenes. He and the Vorontzoff used to get drunk together every night, then she used to beat him, and boast about having done so in public afterwards. Well, no one can respect a man who lets his woman beat him, can they?'

‘No,' agreed Roger, with an amused glance at Natalia Andreovna. They certainly cannot.'

‘So naturally all our sympathies gravitated towards Katinka. My brother Gregory had been A.D.C. to Count Peter Schuvalof. While Katinka was still only Grand Duchess the fates decreed that the Count should catch him in bed with the Princess Kurakin; and as she was Schuvalof's mistress he threatened Gregory with Siberia. Katinka got to hear of it, and her curiosity being aroused, she arranged to get a sight of him without his knowledge. One look at his handsome face was enough, and his destination was changed from Siberia to a much warmer spot.'