Vienna held high holiday for the nuptials of the handsome Prince and his beautiful bride; and it was through avenues densely packed with cheering onlookers that Natalie made her triumphal progress to the altar, in her flower-garlanded dress of white satin, a tiara of diamonds flashing from the blackness of her hair, no brighter than the brilliance of her eyes, her face irradiated with happiness.
That no Royalty graced their wedding was a matter of no moment to Milan and Natalie, whose happiness was thus crowned; and when at the subsequent banquet Milan said, “I wish from my very heart that every one of my subjects, as well as everybody I know, could be always as happy as I am this moment,” none who heard him could doubt the sincerity of his words, or see any but a golden future for so ideal a union of hearts.
By Servia her young Princess was received with open arms of welcome. “Her reception,” we are told, “was beyond description. The festivities lasted three days, and during that time the love of the people for their Prince, and their admiration of the beauty and charm of his bride, were beyond words to describe.” Never did Royal wedded life open more full of bright promise, and never did consort make more immediate conquest of the affections of her husband’s subjects. “No one could have believed that this marriage, which was contracted from love and love alone, would have ended in so tragic a manner, or that hate could so quickly have taken the place of love.”
But the serpent was quick to show his head in Natalie’s new paradise. Before she had been many weeks a wife, stories came to her ears of her husband’s many infidelities. Now the story was of one lady of her Court, now of another, until the horrified Princess knew not whom to trust or to respect. Strange tales, too, came to her (mostly anonymously) of Milan’s amours in Paris, in Vienna, and half a dozen of his other haunts of pleasure, until her love, poisoned at its very springing, turned to suspicion and distrust of the man to whom she had given her heart.
Other disillusions were quick to follow. She discovered that her husband was a hopeless gambler and spendthrift, spending long hours daily at the card-tables, watching with pale face and trembling lips his pile of gold dwindle (as it usually did) to its last coin; and often losing at a single sitting a month’s revenue from the Civil List. Her own dowry of five million roubles, she knew, was safe from his clutches. Her father had taken care to make that secure, but Milan’s private fortune, large as it had been, had already been squandered in this and other forms of dissipation; and even the expenses of his wedding, she learned, had been met by a loan raised at ruinous interest.
Such discoveries as these were well calculated to shatter the dreams of the most infatuated of brides, and less was sufficient to rouse Natalie’s proud spirit to rebellion. When affectionate pleadings proved useless, reproaches took their place. Heated words were exchanged, and the records tell of many violent scenes before Natalie had been six months Princess of Servia. “You love to rule,” the warning voice had told Milan–“to command. So does Natalie”; and already the clashing of strong wills and imperious tempers, which must end in the yielding of one or the other, had begun to be heard.
If more fuel had been needed to feed the flames of dissension, it was quickly supplied by two unfortunate incidents. The first was Milan’s open dallying with Fraeulein S—-, one of Natalie’s maids-of-honour, a girl almost as beautiful as herself, but with the _beaute de diable_. The second was the appearance in Belgrade of Dimitri Wasseljevitchca, who was suspected of plotting to assassinate the Tsar. Russia demanded that the fugitive should be given up to justice, and enlisted Natalie’s co-operation with this object. Milan, however, was resolute not to surrender the plotter, and turned a deaf ear to all the Princess’s pleadings and cajoleries. “The most exciting scene followed. Natalie, abandoning entreaties, threatened and even commanded her husband to obey her”; and when threats and commands equally failed, she gave way to a paroxysm of rage in which she heaped the most unbridled scorn and contempt on her husband.
Thus jealousy, a thwarted will, and Milan’s low pleasures combined to widen the breach between the Royal couple, so recently plighted to each other in the sacred name of love, and to prepare the way for the troubled and tragic years to come.
CHAPTER XXIX
AN ILL-FATED MARRIAGE–_continued_
If anything could have restored happiness to Milan of Servia and his Princess, Natalie, it should surely have been the birth of the baby-Prince, Alexander, whom both equally adored and equally spoiled. But, instead of linking his parents in a new bond of affection “Sacha” was from his cradle the innocent cause of widening the breach that severed them.
For a time, fortunately, Milan had little opportunity of continuing the feud of recrimination with his high-spirited and hot-tempered spouse. More serious matters claimed him. Servia was plunged into war with Turkey, and his days were spent in camp and on the battlefield, until the intervention of Russia put an end to the long and hopeless struggle, and Milan found himself one February day in 1882, thanks to the Berlin Conference, hailed the first King of his country, under the title of Milan I.
Then followed a disastrous war with Bulgaria into which the headstrong King rushed in spite of Natalie’s warning–“Draw back, Milan, and have no share in what will prove a bloody drama. You have no chance of conquering, for Alexander is made of the stuff of the Hohenzollerns.” And indeed the struggle was doomed to failure from the first; for Milan was no man to lead an army to victory. Read his method of conducting a campaign, as described by one of his aides-de-camp–
“Our troops continue to retreat–I never imagined a campaign could be so jolly. We do nothing but dance and sing and fiddle. Yesterday the King had some guests and the champagne literally flowed. We had the Belgrade singers, who used to delight us in the theatre-cafe. They sang and danced delightfully. The last two days we have had plenty of fun, and yesterday a lot of jolly girls came to enliven us.” Such was Milan’s method of conducting a great war, on which the very existence of his kingdom hung. Wine and women and song were more to his taste than forced marches, strategy, and hard-fought battles. But once again foreign intervention came to his rescue; and his armies were saved from annihilation.
When his sword was finally sheathed, if not with honour, he returned to Belgrade to resume his gambling, his dallyings with fair women–and his daily quarrels with his Queen, whose bitterness absence had done nothing to assuage. So far from Natalie’s spirit being crushed, it was higher and prouder than ever. She would die before she would yield; but she was in no mood to die, this autocratic, fiery-tempered, strong-willed daughter of Russia. She gave literally a “striking” proof of the spirit that was in her at the Easter reception of 1886, when the wife of a Greek diplomat–a beautiful woman, to whom her husband had been more than kind–presented herself smilingly to receive the “salute courteous” from Her Majesty. With a look of scorn Natalie coolly surveyed her rival from head to foot; and then, in the presence of the Court, gave her a resounding slap on the cheek.
But the Grecian lady was only one of many fair women who basked successively (or together) in Milan’s favour. A much more formidable rival was Artemesia Christich, a woman as designing as she was lovely, who was quick to envelop the weak King in the toils of her witchery. Not content with his smiles and favours she aspired to take Natalie’s place as Queen of Servia; and, it is said, had extorted from him a promise that he would make her his Queen as soon as his existing marriage tie could be dissolved. And to this infamous compact Artemesia’s husband, a man as crafty and unscrupulous as herself, consented, in return for his promotion to certain high and profitable offices in the State.
In vain did the Emperor and the Crown Prince of Austria, with many another high-placed friend, plead with Milan not to commit such a folly. He was driven to distraction between such powerful appeals and the allurement of the siren who had him so effectually under her spell, until in his despair he entertained serious thoughts of suicide as escape from his dilemma. Meanwhile, we are told, “a perfect hell” raged in the castle; each day brought its scandalous scene between his outraged Queen and himself. His unpopularity with his subjects became so acute that he was hissed whenever he made his appearance in the streets of his capital; and Artemesia was obliged to have police protection to shield her from the vengeance of the mob.
As for Natalie, this crowning injury decided her to bear her purgatory no longer. She would force her husband to abdicate and secure her own appointment as Regent for her son; or, failing that, she would leave her husband and seek an asylum out of Servia. And with the object of still further embittering his subjects against the King she made the full story of her injuries public, and enlisted the sympathy, not only of Milan’s most powerful ministers, but of the entire country.
“The castle is in utter confusion,” wrote an officer of the Belgrade garrison, in October, 1886. “The King looks ill, and as if he never slept. Poor fellow! he flies for refuge to us in the guard-house, and plays cards with the officers. Card-playing is his worst enemy. He loves it passionately, and plays excitedly and for high points–and he always loses.”
Matters were now hastening to a crisis. Hopelessly in debt, scorned by his subjects, and hated by his wife, Milan’s plight was pitiful. The scenes between the King and the Queen were becoming more violent and disgraceful every day. “There was no peace anywhere, nor did anyone belonging to the Court enjoy a moment of tranquillity.” So intolerable had life become that, early in 1887, Milan decided to dissolve his marriage; and it was only at the pleading of the Austrian Emperor that he consented to abandon this design, on condition that his wife left Servia; and thus it was that one day in April Queen Natalie left Belgrade, accompanied by her son “Sacha,” ostensibly that he might continue his education in Germany.
But, although husband and wife were thus at last separated, Milan’s resolve to divorce her remained firm. “I have to inform you,” he wrote shortly after her departure, “that I have this day sent in my application to our Holy National Church for permission to dissolve our marriage.” And that nothing might be lacking to Natalie’s suffering and humiliation, he sent General Protitsch to Wiesbaden with a peremptory demand that his son, “Sacha,” should return to Servia.
In vain did Natalie protest against both indignities. Milan might divorce her; but at least he should not rob her of her son, the only solace left to her in life. And when General Protitsch, seeing that milder measures were futile, gave orders for the Prince to be removed by force, the distracted mother flung one protecting arm round her boy; and, pointing a loaded pistol with the other, threatened to shoot dead the man who dared approach her.
Opposition, however, was futile; the following evening the boy-Prince was in his father’s arms, and the weeping mother was left disconsolate. Thus robbed of her darling “Sacha,” it was not long before the second blow fell. The divorce proceedings were rushed through the Synod. A deaf ear was turned to Natalie’s petition to be allowed, at least, to defend herself in person; and on the 12th October, 1888, the “marriage between King Milan I. and Natalie, born Ketschko,” was formally dissolved. Well might this most unhappy of Queens write, “The position is embittered by my conscience assuring me that I have neglected no duty, and that there is not a single action of my life which could be cited against me as a grave offence, or could put me to shame were it brought before the whole world. My fate should draw tears from the very stones; but I do not ask for pity; I demand justice.”
If anything could have increased Milan’s unpopularity it was this brutal treatment of his Queen. The very men who, at his coronation, had taken off their cloaks that he might walk on them, and the women who had kissed his garments, now hissed him in the streets of his capital. In his own Court he had no friend except the infamous Christitch; the general hatred even took the form of repeated attempts on his life. If he would save it, he realised he must abandon his crown; and one March morning in 1889, after informing his ministers of his intention to abdicate, he awoke his twelve-year-old son with the greeting, “Good morning, Your Majesty!” Milan was no longer King of Servia; his son, Alexander, reigned in his stead.
Probably no King ever laid down his crown more willingly. He had put aside for ever his Royal trappings, with all their unhappy memories, and their present discomforts and danger; but in distant Paris he knew a life of new pleasure awaited him, remote from the wranglings of Courts and the assassin’s knife. And within a week of greeting his successor as King, he was gaily riding in the Bois, attending the theatres, supping hilariously with ladies of the ballet, or dining with his friends at Verrey’s “where his somewhat rough manner and coarse jokes (the legacy of his swineherd ancestry) caused him sometimes to be mistaken for a parvenu,” until a waiter would correct the impression by a whispered, “That gentleman with the dark moustache is Milan, ex-King of Servia.”
While her husband was thus drinking the cup of Paris pleasure, his wife was still doomed to exile from her kingdom and her son, with permission only to pay two brief visits each year. But Natalie, who had so long defied a King, was not the woman to be daunted by mere Regents. She would return to Belgrade, and at least make her home where she could catch an occasional glimpse of her boy. And to Belgrade she went, to make her entry over flower-strewn streets, and through a tornado of cheers and shouts of “Zivela Rufe!” It was a truly Royal welcome to the great warm heart of the Servian people; but no official of the Court was there to greet her coming, and as she drove past the castle which held all she counted dear in life, not even the flutter of a handkerchief marked the passing of Servia’s former Queen.
Had she but played her cards now with the least discretion, she might have been allowed to remain in Belgrade in peace. But Natalie seems fated to have been the harbinger of storm. For a time, it is true, she was content to lie _perdue_, entertaining her friends at her house in Prince Michael Street, driving through the streets of her capital behind her pair of white ponies, or walking with her pet goat for companion, greeted everywhere with respect and affection. But her restless, vengeful spirit, still burning from the indignities she had suffered, would not allow her to remain long in the background. She threw herself into political agitation, and thus brought herself into open conflict with the Regents; she inaugurated a campaign of abuse against her husband, whom she still pursued with a relentless hatred; and generally made herself so objectionable to the authorities that the Skupshtina was at last compelled to order her banishment.
When the deputies presented themselves before her with the decree of expulsion, she laughed in their very faces, declaring that she would only submit to force. “I refuse to go,” she said defiantly, “unless I am expelled by the hands of the police.” A few hours later she was forcibly removed from her weeping and protesting ladies, hurried into a carriage, and driven off, with a strong escort of soldiers, on her journey to exile.
But the good people of Belgrade, who had got wind of the proposed abduction, were by no means disposed to look on while their beloved Queen was thus brutally taken from them. When the cortege reached the Cathedral Square, it was stopped by a formidable and menacing mob; the escort, furiously assailed with sticks and showers of stones, was beaten off; the horses were taken from the carriage, and the Queen was drawn back in triumph by scores of willing hands, to her residence.
Natalie’s victory, however, was short-lived. At midnight, when her stalwart champions were sleeping in their beds, the police, crawling over the roofs of the houses in Prince Michael Street, and descending into the Queen’s courtyard, found it a very simple matter to complete their dastardly work. The Queen was again bundled unceremoniously into a carriage, and before Belgrade was well awake, she was far on her way to her new exile in Hungary. A few days later a formal decree of banishment was pronounced against her, forbidding her, under any pretext whatever, to enter Servia again without the Regent’s permission.
Only once more did Natalie and Milan set eyes on each other–when the ex-King presented himself at Biarritz, to bring her news of their son’s projected _coup d’etat_, by which he designed to depose the Regents and to take the reins of government into his own hands. Taken by surprise, the Queen received Milan, but when she saw him standing before her, an aged, broken man, her composure gave way. She could not speak; she trembled like a leaf.
With Alexander’s dramatic accession to his full Kingship a new, if brief, era of happiness opened to Natalie. The Regents were no longer able to exclude her from Servia, and by her son’s invitation she returned to Belgrade to resume her old position of Queen.
Still beautiful, in spite of all her suffering, she played for a time the role of Queen-mother to perfection, holding her Courts, presiding at balls and soirees, taking a prominent part in affairs of State, and gradually acquiring more power than her easy-going son himself enjoyed. At last, after long years of unrest and unhappiness, she seemed assured of peaceful years, secure in the affection of her son and her people, and far removed from the husband who had brought so much misery into her life.
But Natalie was fated never to be happy long, and once more her evil Destiny was to snatch the cup from her lips, assuming this time the form of Draga Maschin, one of her own ladies-in-waiting, under the spell of whose black eyes and voluptuous charms her son quickly fell, after that first dramatic incident at Biarritz, when she plunged into the sea to his rescue and saved him from drowning.
Many months earlier a clairvoyante at Paris had told Natalie, “Your Majesty is cherishing in your bosom a poisonous snake, which one day will give you a mortal wound.” She had smiled incredulously at the warning, but she was soon to learn what truth it held. Certainly Draga Maschin was the last person she would have suspected of being a source of danger–a woman many years older than her son, the penniless widow of a drunken engineer–a woman, moreover, of whose life, before Natalie had taken pity on her poverty, many strange stories were told–how, for instance, she had often been seen in low resorts, “with the arm of a forester or a tradesman round her, singing the old Servian songs.”
But she had not taken into account Draga’s sensuous beauty, before which her son was powerless. Each meeting left him more and more involved in her toils, until, to the consternation of Servia and the horror of his mother, he announced his intention of making her his Queen. Even Milan, degraded as he was, was horror-struck when the news came to him in Paris. “And this,” he exclaimed, “is the act of ‘Sacha’–my own son. He is a monster, a thing of evil in the eyes of all men! The Maschin will be Queen of Servia. What a reproach! What an evil! A creature like her! A sordid creature! Could he not have put aside his love for this low-born woman? But I could never make the fool understand that a King has duties; he has something else to think of but love-making.”
When taking leave of the friend who had brought him this evil news Milan said, “I shall never see Servia again. My experience has been a bitter one–everywhere treachery and deceit. And now my own son–_that_ has broken my heart.” A few months later, worn out by his excesses, prematurely old and broken-hearted, the man who had prostituted life’s best gifts drew his last breath at Vienna at the age of forty-six.
As for Natalie, this crowning calamity of her son’s disgrace did more than all her past sufferings to crush her proud spirit. But fate had not yet dealt the last and most cruel blow of all. That fell on that fatal June day of 1902 when her beloved “Sacha’s” mutilated body was flung by his assassins out of his palace window, to be greeted with shouts of derisive laughter and cries of “Long live King Peter,” from the dense crowds who had come to gloat over this last scene in the tragedy of the House of the Obrenvoie.
INDEX
Agenois, Duc, d’, 284, 285
Aisse, Mlle, 221-224
Albany, Count of, 13-20
” Countess of, 15-22
Alberoni, Cardinal, 184
Alexander, King of Servia, 319-329
Alexander III., of Russia, 93
Alexis, Tsarevitch, 10, 255
Alfieri, Vittorio, 19-22
Anjou, Duc d’, 59
Anna, Empress, 26
Anne of Austria, 159, 163, 164
Arcimbaldo, 92
Aubigne, Constant d’, 240, 241
” Francoise d’, 240-247
Audouins, Diane d’, 37
Augustus, of Saxony, 93-102
Austin, William, 205, 213
Auvergne, Comte d’, 235
Babou, Francoise, 35
Baireuth, Margravine of, 7
Baratinski, Prince, 155
Barry, Guillaume du, 47
” Jean du, 47
” Madame du, 47-54
Bavaria, Elizabeth of, 215
Beaufort, Duchesse de, 41-44
Beauharnais, Eugene, 135
” Hortense, 135
” Josephine, 127-137
Beauvallon, 143
Becu, Jeanne, 45-54
Bellegarde, Count di, 205-206
” Duc de, 37-39
Berry, Duc de, 57-61
” Duchesse de, 55-65, 182, 217
Bestyouzhev, 30, 31
Beuchling, 98
Blanguini, 111
Blois, Mlle de, 56
Bonaparte, Elisa, 104
” Letizia, 104, 105
” Napoleon, 104-112, 127-137
Bonaparte, Pauline, 104-113
Bonaventuri, Pietro, 170-175
“Bonnie Prince,” 13-22
Borghese, Prince Camillo, 110
Borghese, Princess Pauline, 110-113 Bossi, Giuseppe, 205
Bourgogne, Duc de, 59
” Duchesse de, 181
Brissac, Duc de, 50-53
Bristol, Lord, 121, 122
Brougham, 212
Brunswick, Augusta, Duchess of, 194 Brunswick, Charles Wm., Duke of, 194
Byron, Lord, 138
Campbell, Lady Charlotte, 193, 194
Campredon, 249
Capello, Bartolomeo, 172
” Bianca, 169-179
Carlos, King of Spain, 304, 305.
Caroline, Princess of Wales, 191-202 Caroline, Queen of Naples, 120
Catargo, Marie, 307
Catherine I., of Russia, 1-12, 23
Catherine II., of Russia, 23, 29, 32, 72, 73, 76, 80, 149-158 Charles V., Emperor, 88
Charles VII., Emperor, 29
Charles IX., King of France, 227
Charles, Monsieur, 133, 134
Charlotte, Princess, 199, 202, 211
Charlotte, Queen, 197
Chartres, Duc de, 56
Chateauroux, Duchesse de, 288-293
Christian II, of Denmark, 81-92
Christich, Artemesia, 321, 322
Clary, Desiree, 104, 127
Colonna, Prince, 167, 295
” Princess, 167, 168, 295
Cosse, Louis, Duc de, 48-50
Domanski, 70-72, 74, 77, 79
Douglas, Lady, 200
” Sir John, 200
Dubois, Cardinal, 215, 216
Dujarrier, M., 143
Dyveke, 83-89
Elizabeth I., of Russia, 23-32, 72, 150, 153 “Elizabeth II.” of Russia, 74, 76, 77
Embs, Baron von, 67
Emilie, 220, 221
Encke, Charlotte, 115, 116
” Wilhelmine, 114-126
Entragues, Henriette d’, 44, 227-237 Entragues, Seigneur d’, 227, 229
Esterle, Countess, 102
Estrees, Antoine d’, 36
” Gabrielle d’, 35-44, 226
Estrees, Jean d’, 36
Eudoxia, Empress, 252-257
Faaborg, Hans, 90-91
Fabre, Francois X., 21
Falari, Duchesse de, 224
Feriol, Comte de, 222
” Madame de, 223
Fersen, Count, 261
Fimarcon, Marquis de, 221
Fitzherbert, Mrs, 199
Flavacourt, Madame de, 283
Fleury, Cardinal, 271, 272, 282, 283, 284 Fontanges, Mlle de, 245
Forbin, 111
Francois I, 36
Frederick the Great, 114-118
Frederick William II, of Prussia, 115-124 Frederick William III., of Prussia, 124
Freron, 106
Gace, Comte De, 183
Galitzin, Prince, 79
George III., 197, 201, 211
George IV., 191-202
Giovanna, Grand Duchess of Tuscany, 174-177 Glebof, Major, 253-256
Goncourt, de, 46, 270, 286
Guiche, Comte de, 265, 302
Guise, Duc de, 237
Gustav, Adolf, 15
Hamilton, Mary, 257-259
” Sir William, 75, 77
Haye, La, 60
Henri IV., of France (and Navarre), 35-44, 226-237 Holbein, Francis, 126
Hornstein, 69
Hutchinson, Lord, 212
Isabella, Princess, 88
Ivan, 26
Jersey, Lady, 198, 199
Joachim Murat, King, 207
Joinville, Prince de, 234, 237
Josephine, Empress, 110-112, 127-137 Junot, 107
Karageorgevitch, Alex., 306
Ketschko, Natalie, 311-329
” Nathaniel, 310
Koenigsmarck, Aurora von, 94-103
Koenigsmarck, Conrad von, 94
” Philip von, 94-96
Konstantinovitch, Alex., 313
Kristenef, 77
Kusa, Prince, 308
Lamballe, Princesse de, 263
Landsfeld, Countess of, 146-148
Languet, Abbe, 63
Lauzun, Duc de, 62
Lavalliere, Duchesse de, 239
Lawrence, Sir Thomas, 201
Leclerc, General, 108, 109
Lichtenau, Countess, 120-126
Limburg, Duke of, 67, 68
Lorraine, Prince Charles of, 167, 301 Louis XIV., 159, 162-167, 238-247, 248, 295 Louis XV., 45, 47-49, 270-292
Louise, Countess of Albany, 15-22
Loewenhaupt, Count Axel, 94
” Countess, 94, 97-99
Ludwig I., of Bavaria, 144-147
Luynes, Duc de, 273
Mailly, Madame de, 273-293
Maine, Duc de, 243, 247
Maintenon, Madame de, 57, 244-247
Malmesbury, Lord, 195-198
Manby, Captain, 201
Mancini, Hortense, 162, 167, 168
Mancini, Laure, 294
” Madame, 159-163
” Marie, 160-168, 239, 298-301
Mancini, Olympe, 294-305
Maria Theresa, Queen of Spain, 302, 304 Marie Antoinette, 260-269
Marie Leczinska, 270
Marie Louise, Empress, 112, 136, 204 Marine, Monsieur de, 67
Marke, Count de la, 117
Marmont, General, 107
Maschin, Draga, 328, 329
Masson, 32, 135
Maurepas, 282-284, 292
Mazarin, Cardinal, 159-163, 239, 295, 297 Mazarin, Madame de, 282, 283
Medici, Cardinal de, 176-176
” Francesco de, 172-179
” Marie de, 231-235
Menshikoff, 3, 6, 12
Mercoeur, Duc de, 295
Mexent, Marquis de Saint, 123
Michael, Prince, of Servia, 306, 308 Michelin, Madame, 181
Milan I., of Servia, 306-329
Modena, Duke of, 185-189
” Duchess of, 182, 186-189
Monceaux, Marquise de, 41
Mons, William, 11
Montespan, Madame de, 55, 56, 239, 240, 243-245 Montez, Lola, 138-148
Montmorency, Charlotte de, 236, 237 Mortemart, Duchesse de, 54
Motte-Houdancourt, Mlle de la, 302
Motteville, Madame de, 294, 296
Mouchy, Madame de, 62-65, 217
Murussi, Princess, 313, 314
Napoleon I., 104-112, 127-137
Natalie, Queen of Servia, 311-329
Nathalie, Empress, 252
Nesle, Felicite de, 275-279
” Marquise de, 182
Nevers, Duc de, 232
Noailles, Cardinal, 64
Obrenovitch Jefrenn, 307
Ompteda, Baron, 206
Orleans, Philippe, Duc de, 55-57, 60-64, 184, 214-225 Orloff, Alexis, 74, 76-79, 155
” Count, 258
” Gregory, 29, 32, 76, 153-158
Palatine, Princess, Elizabeth, 56, 59, 62, 64 Panine, 157
Paskevitch, General, 141, 142
Patiomkin, 23
Perdita, 199
Pergami, 206-213
Permon, Albert, 107
” Madame, 109
Peter the Great, 3-12, 23, 248-259
Peter II., of Russia, 28, 257
Peter III., of Russia, 149-155
Pinneberg, Countess of, 73
Platen, Countess, 94
Polignac, Cardinal de, 261
” Diane de, 262, 265
” Jules, Comte de, 261-264
Polignac, Madame de, 182
” Yolande, de, 261-269
Poellnitz, Von, 7
Poniatowski, 151, 152
Porte, Armande de la, 162
Protitsch, General, 323
Pugatchef, 73
Radziwill, Prince Charles, 73, 74
Ravaillac, 35
Razoum, Alexis, 23-34, 72
” Cyril, 26-28
” Gregory, 24
Richelieu, Duc de, 180-190, 275, 280, 285, 290, 291 Richelieu, Duchesse de, 185
Rietz, Herr, 117
” Wilhelmine, 117-120
Ringlet, Father, 62
Riom, Comte de, 62-64
Saint-Simon, Duc de, 57, 60, 62, 305
Saint-Simon, Madame de, 58
Savoie, Chevalier de, 65
Savoy, Charles Emmanuel, Duke of, 168 Savoy, Margaret, Princess of, 164, 165, 299, 300 Scarron, Paul, 241, 242
Schenk, Baron von, 67
Sevigne, Madame de, 245, 303
Seymour, Henry, 48
Shouvalov, 29
Sigbrit, Frau, 83-92
Skovronski, I, 23
Smith, Sydney, Captain, 200
Soissons, Comte de, 297
” Comtesse de, 295, 297-305
Soltykoff, Sergius, 151
Sophia Dorothea, of Celle, 94
Spencer, Lord Henry, 119
Stanley, Sir John, 193
Stendhal, 21
Stuart, Charles, 13-20
Sully, Duc de, 41, 42, 229-231
Tencin, Madame de, 223, 280
Teplof, 155
Thackeray, 192, 198, 200
Toebingen, Major, 199
Torbern, Oxe, 90-92
Touchet, Marie, 227
Tourel-Alegre, Marquess, 36
Tournelle, Mme de la, 280-293
Tuscany, Bianca, Grand Duchess of, 169-179 Tuscany, Francesco, Grand Duke of, 172-179
Valkendorf, Chancellor, 81-85, 89
Valliere, La, 301-303
Valois, Marguerite de, Queen of France, 42, 229, 231 Valois, Mlle de, 182, 184, 185
Vardes, Marquis de, 302
Vaudreuil, Comte de, 267, 268
Verneuil, Marquise de, 231-237
Villars, Duchesse de, 233, 234
Vintimille, Comtesse de, 276-279
Vishnevsky, Colonel, 24
Vlodimir, Princess Aly de, 66-80
Voisin, La, 303
Voltaire, 46, 57, 149
Vorontsov, 32, 33
Walewska, Madame, 127
Waliszewski, 3, 5, 251
Wasseljevitchca, Dimitri, 317