The Daughter of an Empress

Years passed--famous and glorious years for Russia. Peace within

her borders, and splendid victories gained over foreign enemies,

particularly over the Prussians. In songs of jubilee the people praised

and blessed their empress, whose wisdom had brought all to such a

glorious conclusion, and had made her country great, triumphant, and

happy.

The good Elizabeth! What had she to do with the victories of her

soldiers, with the happiness of her realm? She knew nothing of it, and

if peace prevailed throughout the Russian empire, it was absolutely

unknown in the imperial palace, where there was eternal war, a

never-ending feud! There the young Catharine contended with her husband,

whom she hated and abhorred; with Elizabeth, who saw in her a dangerous

rival. But it was an unequal struggle in which these two women were

engaged, for Elizabeth had on her side the power and dominion, while

Catharine had only her youth, her beauty, and her tears!

Elizabeth hated Catharine because she dared to remain young and

handsome, while she, the empress, saw that she was growing old, and her

charms were withering; and Catharine hated Elizabeth because the latter

denied her a right which the empress daily claimed for herself--the

right to choose a lover, and to love him as long as he pleased her.

She hated Elizabeth because the latter surrounded her with spies

and watchers, and required of her a strict virtue, a never-violated

matrimonial fidelity--fidelity to the husband who so far derided and

insulted his wife as to demand that she should receive into her circle

and treat with respect and kindness his own mistress, the Countess

Woronzow--fidelity to this husband, who had never shown her any thing

but contempt and neglect, and who had no other way of entertaining her

than teaching her to march in military fashion, and stand as a sentinel

at his door!

Wounded in her inmost being and her feminine honor, tired of the eternal

pin-prickings with which Elizabeth tormented her, Catharine retreated

into her most retired apartment, there in quiet to reflect upon her

dishonorable greatness, and yearningly to dream of a splendid future.

"For the future," said she, with sparkling eyes to her confidante,

Princess Daschkow, "the future is mine, they cannot deprive me of it.

For that I labor and think and study. Ah, when my future shall have

become the present, then will I encircle my brows with a splendid

imperial diadem, and astonish you with all my greatness and

magnificence."

"But you forget your husband!" smilingly interposed Princess Daschkow.

"He will a little obscure the splendor of your imperial crown, as he

will always be the first in the realm. He is the all-powerful emperor,

and you will be powerless, although an empress!"

Catharine proudly tossed her head, and her eyes flashed.

"I shall one day remember all the mortifications he has inflicted upon

me," said she, "and an hour will come when I shall have a reckoning with

him, and full retribution! Ah, talk not to me of my husband--Russian

emperors have never been immortal, and why should he be so?"