The Daughter of an Empress | Page 5

a natural death. Again was the
Russian imperial throne vacated! Who is there to mount it? whom has
the empress named as her successor? No one dared to speak of it; the
question was read in all eyes, but no lips ventured to open for the
utterance of an answer, as every conjecture, every expression, if
unfounded and unfulfilled, would be construed into the crime of high-
treason as soon as another than the one thus indicated should be called
to the throne!
Who will obtain that throne? So asked each man in his heart. The
courtiers and great men of the realm asked it with shuddering and
despair. For, to whom should they now go to pay their homage and thus
recommend themselves to favor in advance? Should they go to Biron,
the Duke of Courland? Was it not possible that the dying empress had
chosen him, her warmly-beloved favorite, her darling minion, as her
successor to the throne of all the Russias? But how if she had not done
so? If, instead, she had chosen her niece, the wife of Prince Anton
Ulrich, of Brunswick, as her successor? Or was it not also possible that
she had declared the Princess Elizabeth, the daughter of Czar Peter the
Great, as empress? The latter, indeed, had the greatest, the most
incontestable right to the imperial throne of Russia; was she not the
sole lawful heir of her father? How, if one therefore went to her and
congratulated her as empress? But if one should make a mistake, how
then?
The courtiers, as before said, shuddered and hesitated, and, in order to

avoid making a mistake, did nothing at all. They remained in their
palaces, ostensibly giving themselves up to deep mourning for the
decease of the beloved czarina, whom every one of them secretly hated
so long as she was yet alive.
There were but a few who were not in uncertainty respecting the
immediate future, and conspicuous among that few was Field-Marshal
Count Munnich.
While all hesitated and wavered in anxious doubt, Munnich alone was
calm. He knew what was coming, because he had had a hand in shaping
the event.
"Oh," said he, while walking his room with folded arms, "we have at
length attained the object of our wishes, and this bright emblem for
which I have so long striven will now finally become mine. I shall be
the ruler of this land, and in the unrestricted exercise of royal power I
shall behold these millions of venal slaves grovelling at my feet, and
whimpering for a glance or a smile. Ah, how sweet is this governing
power!
"But," he then continued, with a darkened brow, "what is the good of
being the ruler if I cannot bear the name of ruler?--what is it to govern,
if another is to be publicly recognized as regent and receive homage as
such? The kernel of this glory will be mine, but the shell,--I also
languish for the shell. But no, this is not the time for such thoughts,
now, when the circumstances demand a cheerful mien and every
outward indication of satisfaction! My time will also come, and, when
it comes, the shell as well as the kernel shall be mine! But this is the
hour for waiting upon the Duke of Courland! I shall be the first to wish
him joy, and shall at the same time remind him that he has given me his
ducal word that he will grant the first request I shall make to him as
regent. Well, well, I will ask now, that I may hereafter command."
The field-marshal ordered his carriage and proceeded to the palace of
the Duke of Courland.
A deathlike stillness prevailed in the streets through which he rode. On
every hand were to be seen only curtained windows and closed palaces;
it seemed as if this usually so brilliant and noisy quarter of St.
Petersburg had suddenly become deserted and desolate. The usual
equipages, with their gold and silver-laced attendants, were nowhere to
be seen.

The count's carriage thundered through the deserted streets, but
wherever he passed curious faces were seen peeping from the curtained
windows of the palaces; all doors were hastily opened behind him, and
he was followed by the runners of the counts and princes, charged with
the duty of espying his movements.
Count Munnich saw all that, and smiled.
"I have now given them the signal," said he, "and this servile Russian
nobility will rush hither, like fawning hounds, to bow before a new idol
and pay it their venal homage."
The carriage now stopped before the palace of the Duke of Courland,
and with an humble and reverential mien Munnich ascended the stairs
to the brilliant apartments of Biron.
He found the duke alone; absorbed