In London And Moscow: Russia and Poland

J >> Jacques Casanova de Seingalt >> In London And Moscow: Russia and Poland

THE MEMOIRS OF JACQUES CASANOVA DE SEINGALT

THE RARE UNABRIDGED LONDON EDITION OF 1894 TRANSLATED BY ARTHUR MACHEN TO
WHICH HAS BEEN ADDED THE CHAPTERS DISCOVERED BY ARTHUR SYMONS.

MEMOIRS OF JACQUES CASANOVA de SEINGALT 1725-1798 IN LONDON AND MOSCOW,
Volume 5e--RUSSIA AND POLAND




RUSSIA AND POLAND




CHAPTER XIX

My Stay at Riga--Campioni St. Heleine--D'Asagon--Arrival of the
Empress--I Leave Riga and Go to St. Petersburg--I See Society--I Buy
Zaira

Prince Charles de Biron, the younger son of the Duke of Courland,
Major-General in the Russian service, Knight of the Order of St.
Alexander Newski, gave me a distinguished reception after reading his
father's letter. He was thirty-six years of age, pleasant-looking without
being handsome, and polite and well-mannered, and he spoke French
extremely well. In a few sentences he let me know what he could do for me
if I intended to spend some time at Riga. His table, his friends, his
pleasures, his horses, his advice, and his purse, all these were at my
service, and he offered them with the frankness of the soldier and the
geniality of the prince.

"I cannot offer you a lodging," he said, "because I have hardly enough
room for myself, but I will see that you get a comfortable apartment
somewhere."

The apartment was soon found, and I was taken to it by one of the
prince's aides-de-camp. I was scarcely established when the prince came
to see me, and made me dine with him just as I was. It was an
unceremonious dinner, and I was pleased to meet Campioni, of whom I have
spoken several times in these Memoirs. He was a dancer, but very superior
to his fellows, and fit for the best company polite, witty, intelligent,
and a libertine in a gentlemanly way. He was devoid of prejudices, and
fond of women, good cheer, and heavy play, and knew how to keep an even
mind both in good and evil fortune. We were mutually pleased to see each
other again.

Another guest, a certain Baron de St. Heleine from Savoy, had a pretty
but very insignificant wife. The baron, a fat man, was a gamester, a
gourmand, and a lover of wine; add that he was a past master in the art
of getting into debt and lulling his creditors into a state of false
security, and you have all his capacities, for in all other respects he
was a fool in the fullest sense of the word. An aide-decamp and the
prince's mistress also dined with us. This mistress, who was pale, thin,
and dreamy-looking, but also pretty, might be twenty years old. She
hardly ate anything, saying that she was ill and did not like anything on
the table. Discontent shewed itself on her every feature. The prince
endeavoured, but all in vain, to make her eat and drink, she refused
everything disdainfully. The prince laughed good-humouredly at her in
such a manner as not to wound her feelings.

We spent two hours pleasantly enough at table, and after coffee had been
served, the prince, who had business, shook me by the hand and left me
with Campioni, telling me always to regard his table as my last resource.

This old friend and fellow-countryman took me to his house to introduce
me to his wife and family. I did not know that he had married a second
time. I found the so-called wife to be an Englishwoman, thin, but full of
intelligence. She had a daughter of eleven, who might easily have been
taken for fifteen; she, too, was marvellously intelligent, and danced,
sang, and played on the piano and gave such glances that shewed that
nature had been swifter than her years. She made a conquest of me, and
her father congratulated me to my delight, but her mother offended her
dreadfully by calling her baby.

I went for a walk with Campioni, who gave me a good deal of information,
beginning with himself.

"I have lived for ten years," he said, "with that woman. Betty, whom you
admired so much, is not my daughter, the others are my children by my
Englishwoman. I have left St. Petersburg for two years, and I live here
well enough, and have pupils who do me credit. I play with the prince,
sometimes winning and sometimes losing, but I never win enough to enable
me to satisfy a wretched creditor I left at St. Petersburg, who
persecutes me on account of a bill of exchange. He may put me in prison
any day, and I am always expecting him to do so."

"Is the bill for a large sum?"

"Five hundred roubles."

"That is only two thousand francs."

"Yes, but unfortunately I have not got it."

"You ought to annul the debt by paying small sums on account."

"The rascal won't let me."

"Then what do you propose doing?"

"Win a heavy sum, if I can, and escape into Poland.

"The Baron de St. Heleine will run away, too if he can, for he only lives
on credit. The prince is very useful to us, as we are able to play at his
house; but if we get into difficulty he could not extricate us, as he is
heavily in debt himself. He always loses at play. His mistress is
expensive, and gives him a great deal of trouble by her ill-humour."

"Why is she so sour?"

"She wants him to keep his word, for he promised to get her married at
the end of two years; and on the strength of this promise she let him
give her two children. The two years have passed by and the children are
there, and she will no longer allow him to have anything to do with her
for fear of having a third child."

"Can't the prince find her a husband?"

"He did find her a lieutenant, but she won't hear of anybody under the
rank of major."

The prince gave a state dinner to General Woyakoff (for whom I had a
letter), Baroness Korf, Madame Ittinoff, and to a young lady who was
going to marry Baron Budberg, whom I had known at Florence, Turin, and
Augsburg, and whom I may possibly have forgotten to mention.

All these friends made me spend three weeks very pleasantly, and I was
especially pleased with old General Woyakoff. This worthy man had been at
Venice fifty years before, when the Russians were still called
Muscovites, and the founder of St. Petersburg was still alive. He had
grown old like an oak, without changing his horizons. He thought the
world was just the same as it had been when he was young, and was
eloquent in his praise of the Venetian Government, imagining it to be
still the same as he had left it.

At Riga an English merchant named Collins told me that the so-called
Baron de Stenau, who had given me the forged bill of exchange, had been
hanged in Portugal. This "baron" was a poor clerk, and the son of a small
tradesman, and had left his desk in search of adventure, and thus he had
ended. May God have mercy upon his soul!

One evening a Russian, on his way from Poland, where he had been
executing some commission for the Russian Court, called on the prince,
played, and lost twenty thousand roubles on his word of honour. Campioni
was the dealer. The Russian gave bills of exchange in payment of his
debts; but as soon as he got to St. Petersburg he dishonoured his own
bills, and declared them worthless, not caring for his honour or good
faith. The result of this piece of knavery was not only that his
creditors were defrauded, but gaming was henceforth strictly forbidden in
the officers' quarters.

This Russian was the same that betrayed the secrets of Elizabeth
Petrovna, when she was at war with Prussia. He communicated to Peter, the
empress's nephew and heir-presumptive, all the orders she sent to her
generals, and Peter in his turn passed on the information to the Prussian
king whom he worshipped.

On the death of Elizabeth, Peter put this traitor at the head of the
department for commerce, and the fellow actually made known, with the
Czar's sanction, the service for which he had received such a reward, and
thus, instead of looking upon his conduct as disgraceful, he gloried over
it. Peter could not have been aware of the fact that, though it is
sometimes necessary to reward treachery, the traitor himself is always
abhorred and despised.

I have remarked that it was Campioni who dealt, but he dealt for the
prince who held the bank. I had certain claims, but as I remarked that I
expected nothing and would gladly sell my expectations for a hundred
roubles, the prince took me at my word and gave me the amount
immediately. Thus I was the only person who made any money by our night's
play.

Catherine II, wishing to shew herself to her new subjects, over whom she
was in reality supreme, though she had put the ghost of a king in the
person of Stanislas Poniatowski, her former favourite, on the throne of
Poland, came to Riga, and it was then I saw this great sovereign for the
first time. I was a witness of the kindness and affability with which she
treated the Livonian nobility, and of the way in which she kissed the
young ladies, who had come to kiss her hand, upon the mouth. She was
surrounded by the Orloffs and by other nobles who had assisted in placing
her on the throne. For the comfort and pleasure of her loyal subjects the
empress graciously expressed her intention of holding a bank at faro of
ten thousand roubles.

Instantly the table and the cards were brought forward, and the piles of
gold placed in order. She took the cards, pretended to shuffle them, and
gave them to the first comer to cut. She had the pleasure of seeing her
bank broken at the first deal, and indeed this result was to be expected,
as anybody not an absolute idiot could see how the cards were going. The
next day the empress set out for Mitau, where triumphal arches were
erected in her honour. They were made of wood, as stone is scarce in
Poland, and indeed there would not have been time to build stone arches.

The day after her arrival great alarm prevailed, for news came that a
revolution was ready to burst out at St. Petersburg, and some even said
that it had begun. The rebels wished to have forth from his prison the
hapless Ivan Ivanovitz, who had been proclaimed emperor in his cradle,
and dethroned by Elizabeth Petrovna. Two officers to whom the
guardianship of the prince had been confided had killed the poor innocent
monarch when they saw that they would be overpowered.

The assassination of the innocent prince created such a sensation that
the wary Panin, fearing for the results, sent courier after courier to
the empress urging her to return to St. Petersburg and shew herself to
the people.

Catherine was thus obliged to leave Mitau twenty-four hours after she had
entered it, and after hastening back to the capital she arrived only to
find that the excitement had entirely subsided. For politic reasons the
assassins of the wretched Ivan were rewarded, and the bold man who had
endeavoured to rise by her fall was beheaded.

The report ran that Catherine had concerted the whole affair with the
assassins, but this was speedily set down as a calumny. The czarina was
strong-minded, but neither cruel nor perfidious. When I saw her at Riga
she was thirty-five, and had reigned two years. She was not precisely
handsome, but nevertheless her appearance was pleasing, her expression
kindly, and there was about her an air of calm and tranquillity which
never left her.

At about the same time a friend of Baron de St. Heleine arrived from St.
Petersburg on his way to Warsaw. His name was Marquis Dragon, but he
called himself d'Aragon. He came from Naples, was a great gamester, a
skilled swordsman, and was always ready to extract himself from a
difficulty by a duel. He had left St. Petersburg because the Orloffs had
persuaded the empress to prohibit games of chance. It was thought strange
that the prohibition should come from the Orloffs, as gaming had been
their principal means of gaining a livelihood before they entered on the
more dangerous and certainly not more honourable profession of
conspiracy. However, this measure was really a sensible one. Having been
gamesters themselves they knew that gamesters are mostly knaves, and
always ready to enter into any intrigue or conspiracy provided it assures
them some small gain; there could not have been better judges of gaming
and its consequences than they were.

But though a gamester may be a rogue he may still have a good heart, and
it is only just to say that this was the case with the Orloffs. Alexis
gained the slash which adorns his face in a tavern, and the man who gave
the blow had just lost to him a large sum of money, and considered his
opponent's success to be rather the result of dexterity than fortune.
When Alexis became rich and powerful, instead of revenging himself, he
hastened to make his enemy's fortune. This was nobly done.

Dragon, whose first principle was always to turn up the best card, and
whose second principle was never to shirk a duel, had gone to St.
Petersburg in 1759 with the Baron de St. Heleine. Elizabeth was still on
the throne, but Peter, Duke of Holstein, the heir-presumptive, had
already begun to loom large on the horizon. Dragon used to frequent the
fencing school where the prince was a frequent visitor, and there
encountered all comers successfully. The duke got angry, and one day he
took up a foil and defied the Neapolitan marquis to a combat. Dragon
accepted and was thoroughly beaten, while the duke went off in triumph,
for he might say from henceforth that he was the best fencer in St.
Petersburg.

When the prince had gone, Dragon could not withstand the temptation of
saying that he had only let himself be beaten for fear of offending his
antagonist; and this boast soon got to the grand-duke's ears. The great
man was terribly enraged, and swore he would have him banished from St.
Petersburg if he did not use all his skill, and at the same time he sent
an order to Dragon to be at the fencing school the next day.

The impatient duke was the first to arrive, and d'Aragon was not long in
coming. The prince began reproaching him for what he had said the day
before, but the Neapolitan, far from denying the fact, expressed himself
that he had felt himself obliged to shew his respect for his prince by
letting him rap him about for upwards of two hours.

"Very good," said the duke, "but now it is your turn; and if you don't do
your best I will drive you from St. Petersburg."

"My lord, your highness shall be obeyed. I shall not allow you to touch
me once, but I hope you will deign to take me under your protection."

The two champions passed the whole morning with the foils, and the duke
was hit a hundred times without being able to touch his antagonist. At
last, convinced of Dragon's superiority, he threw down his foil and shook
him by the hand, and made him his fencer-in-ordinary, with the rank of
major in his regiment of Holsteiners.

Shortly after, D'Aragon having won the good graces of the duke obtained
leave to hold a bank at faro in his court, and in three or four years he
amassed a fortune of a hundred thousand roubles, which he took with him
to the Court of King Stanislas, where games of all sorts were allowed.
When he passed through Riga, St. Heleine introduced him to Prince
Charles, who begged him to call on him the next day, and to shew his
skill with the foils against himself and some of his friends. I had the
honour to be of the number; and thoroughly well he beat us, for his skill
was that of a demon. I was vain enough to become angry at being hit at
every pass, and told him that I should not be afraid to meet him at a
game of sharps. He was calmer, and replied by taking my hand, and
saying,--

"With the naked sword I fence in quite another style, and you are quite
right not to fear anyone, for you fence very well."

D'Aragon set out for Warsaw the next day, but he unfortunately found the
place occupied by more cunning Greeks than himself. In six months they
had relieved him of his hundred thousand roubles, but such is the lot of
gamesters; no craft can be more wretched than theirs.

A week before I left Riga (where I stayed two months) Campioni fled by
favour of the good Prince Charles, and in a few days the Baron de St.
Heleine followed him without taking leave of a noble army of creditors.
He only wrote a letter to the Englishman Collins, to whom he owed a
thousand crowns, telling him that like an honest man he had left his
debts where he had contracted them. We shall hear more of these three
persons in the course of two years.

Campioni left me his travelling carriage, which obliged me to use six
horses on my journey to St. Petersburg. I was sorry to leave Betty, and I
kept up an epistolary correspondence with her mother throughout the whole
of my stay at St. Petersburg.

I left Riga with the thermometer indicating fifteen degrees of frost, but
though I travelled day and night, not leaving the carriage for the sixty
hours for which my journey lasted, I did not feel the cold in the least.
I had taken care to pay all the stages in advance, and Marshal Braun,
Governor of Livonia, had given me the proper passport. On the box seat
was a French servant who had begged me to allow him to wait on me for the
journey in return for a seat beside the coachman. He kept his word and
served me well, and though he was but ill clad he bore the horrible cold
for two days and three nights without appearing to feel it. It is only a
Frenchman who can bear such trials; a Russian in similar attire would
have been frozen to death in twenty-four hours, despite plentiful doses
of corn brandy. I lost sight of this individual when I arrived at St.
Petersburg, but I met him again three months after, richly dressed, and
occupying a seat beside mine at the table of M. de Czernitscheff. He was
the uchitel of the young count, who sat beside him. But I shall have
occasion to speak more at length of the office of uchitel, or tutor, in
Russia.

As for Lambert, who was beside me in the carriage, he did nothing but
eat, drink, and sleep the whole way; seldom speaking, for he stammered,
and could only talk about mathematical problems, on which I was not
always in the humour to converse. He was never amusing, never had any
sensible observation to make on the varied scenes through which we
passed; in short, he was a fool, and wearisome to all save himself.

I was only stopped once, and that was at Nawa, where the authorities
demanded a passport, which I did not possess. I told the governor that as
I was a Venetian, and only travelled for pleasure, I did not conceive a
passport would be necessary, my Republic not being at war with any other
power, and Russia having no embassy at Venice.

"Nevertheless," I added, "if your excellency wills it I will turn back;
but I shall complain to Marshal Braun, who gave me the passport for
posting, knowing that I had not the political passport."

After rubbing his forehead for a minute, the governor gave me a pass,
which I still possess, and which brought me into St. Petersburg, without
my having to allow the custom-house officers to inspect my trunks.

Between Koporie and St. Petersburg there is only a wretched hut for the
accommodation of travellers. The country is a wilderness, and the
inhabitants do not even speak Russian. The district is called Ingria, and
I believe the jargon spoken has no affinity with any other language. The
principal occupation of the peasants is robbery, and the traveller does
well not to leave any of his effects alone for a moment.

I got to St. Petersburg just as the first rays of the sun began to gild
the horizon. It was in the winter solstice, and the sun rose at the
extremity of an immense plain at twenty-four minutes past nine, so I am
able to state that the longest night in Russia consists of eighteen hours
and three quarters.

I got down in a fine street called the Millione. I found a couple of
empty rooms, which the people of the house furnished with two beds, four
chairs, and two small tables, and rented to me very cheaply. Seeing the
enormous stoves, I concluded they must consume a vast amount of wood, but
I was mistaken. Russia is the land of stoves as Venice is that of
cisterns. I have inspected the interior of these stoves in summer-time as
minutely as if I wished to find out the secret of making them; they are
twelve feet high by six broad, and are capable of warming a vast room.
They are only refuelled once in twenty-four hours, for as soon as the
wood is reduced to the state of charcoal a valve is shut in the upper
part of the stove.

It is only in the houses of noblemen that the stoves are refuelled twice
a day, because servants are strictly forbidden to close the valve, and
for a very good reason.

If a gentleman chance to come home and order his servants to warm his
room before he goes to bed, and if the servant is careless enough to
close the valve before the wood is reduced to charcoal, then the master
sleeps his last sleep, being suffocated in three or four hours. When the
door is opened in the morning he is found dead, and the poor devil of a
servant is immediately hanged, whatever he may say. This sounds severe,
and even cruel; but it is a necessary regulation, or else a servant would
be able to get rid of his master on the smallest provocation.

After I had made an agreement for my board and lodging, both of which
were very cheap (now St. Petersburg, is as dear as London), I brought
some pieces of furniture which were necessaries for me, but which were
not as yet much in use in Russia, such as a commode, a bureau, &c.

German is the language principally spoken in St. Petersburg, and I did
not speak German much better then than I do now, so I had a good deal of
difficulty in making myself understood, and usually excited my auditors
to laughter.

After dinner my landlord told me that the Court was giving a masked ball
to five thousand persons to last sixty hours. He gave me a ticket, and
told me I only needed to shew it at the entrance of the imperial palace.

I decided to use the ticket, for I felt that I should like to be present
at so numerous an assembly, and as I had my domino still by me a mask was
all I wanted. I went to the palace in a sedan-chair, and found an immense
crowd assembled, and dancing going on in several halls in each of which
an orchestra was stationed. There were long counters loaded with eatables
and drinkables at which those who were hungry or thirsty ate or drank as
much as they liked. Gaiety and freedom reigned everywhere, and the light
of a thousand wax candles illuminated the hall. Everything was wonderful,
and all the more so from its contrast with the cold and darkness that
were without. All at once I heard a masquer beside me say to another,--

"There's the czarina."

We soon saw Gregory Orloff, for his orders were to follow the empress at
a distance.

I followed the masquer, and I was soon persuaded that it was really the
empress, for everybody was repeating it, though no one openly recognized
her. Those who really did not know her jostled her in the crowd, and I
imagined that she would be delighted at being treated thus, as it was a
proof of the success of her disguise. Several times I saw her speaking in
Russian to one masquer and another. No doubt she exposed her vanity to
some rude shocks, but she had also the inestimable advantage of hearing
truths which her courtiers would certainly not tell her. The masquer who
was pronounced to be Orloff followed her everywhere, and did not let her
out of his sight for a moment. He could not be mistaken, as he was an
exceptionally tall man and had a peculiar carriage of the head.

I arrested my progress in a hall where the French square dance was being
performed, and suddenly there appeared a masquer disguised in the
Venetian style. The costume was so complete that I at once set him down
as a fellow-countryman, for very few strangers can imitate us so as to
escape detection. As it happened, he came and stood next to me.

"One would think you were a Venetian," I said to him in French.

"So I am."

"Like myself."

"I am not jesting."

"No more am I."

"Then let us speak in Venetian."

"Do you begin, and I will reply."

We began our conversation, but when he came to the word Sabato, Saturday,
which is a Sabo in Venetian, I discovered that he was a real Venetian,
but not from Venice itself. He said I was right, and that he judged from
my accent that I came from Venice.

"Quite so," said I.

"I thought Bernadi was the only Venetian besides myself in St.
Petersburg."

"You see you are mistaken."

"My name is Count Volpati di Treviso."

"Give me your address, and I will come and tell you who I am, for I
cannot do so here."

"Here it is."

After leaving the count I continued my progress through this wonderful
hall, and two or three hours after I was attracted by the voice of a
female masquer speaking Parisian French in a high falsetto, such as is
common at an opera ball.

I did not recognize the voice but I knew the style, and felt quite
certain that the masquer must be one of my old friends, for she spoke
with the intonations and phraseology which I had rendered popular in my
chief places of resort at Paris.

I was curious to see who it could be, and not wishing to speak before I
knew her, I had the patience to wait till she lifted her mask, and this
occurred at the end of an hour. What was my surprise to see Madame Baret,
the stocking-seller of the Rue St. Honor& My love awoke from its long
sleep, and coming up to her I said, in a falsetto voice,--