mourned in silence and dignified retirement
the infidelity of her husband — the blasting of
her hopes. Yet even then, under a calm and
serene air, and the cares of a life entirely de-
voted to deeds of beneficence, was concealed
a heart wasted by sorrow, but faith- .
ful to its first attachment. "How ^ ^- ^^.^^'
often," says the annalist, " was she Lagarde,'
surprised in tears, contemplating ^]on&'"^3 de
the portrait of that Alexander, so 207^°°^' '"
lovable, yet so faithless I" '
From this irregular connection had sprung
three children, two of which had
died in infancj'. But the third, Dg^jj '^^
ilademoiselle IS'., a child gifted with Aiexan-
all the graces and charms of her der's nat-
molher, though in delicate health, jaughtcr
still lived, and bad become the ob-
ject of the most passionate afl'ection to her
lather. It became necessary to send her to
Paris, for the benefit of a milder climate and
the best medical advice; and during her ab-
sence, the emperor, a solitary hermit in his
palace, but thirsting for the enjoyments of
domestic life, sought a temporary respite to his
anxiety in frequenting the houses of some high-
ly respectable families in middle life, for the
most part Germans, to whom his rank was
known, but where he insisted upon being
treated as an ordinary guest. There he often
expressed his envy at the happiness which
reigned in those domestic circles, and sighed
to think that the Emperor of all the Russias
was com])elled to seek, at the hearth of othei-s,
that felicity which his grandeur or his faults
had denied him at his own. But the hand of
fate was upon him: he was to be pierced to the
heart through the fruit of his own irregulari-
ties. His daughter, who was now seventeen,
had returned from France, apparently restored
to health, and in all the bloom of ^ Selinitz-
youth and beauty. She was en- ler, i. lol,
gaged to be married, with the entire 102;
consent of her father : the magnifi- ^f?'!"'^-, ,
J J i T? • Lnoiseul
cent trousseau was ordered at raris, coufficr,
but when it arrived at St. Petersburg iMem. Illst.
she was no more.* So sudden was "^^J! ^^0^0
the death of the young /oict'e, that cha'teaub. '
it occurred when the emperor was Congres de
out at a review of his guards. An Veroue, i.
aid-de-camp, with a melancholy ex-
1825.]
HISTORY OF EUROPE.
267
pression, approached, and requested leave to
ppeak to him in private. At the first words
lie divined the whole: a mortal paleness over-
spread his visage, and, turning up his eyes to
heaven, he struck his forehead and exclaimed,
"I receive the punishment of my sins!"
These words were not only descriptive of the
change in the emperor's mind in the
Reemicilia- latter years of his life, but tliey pre-
tion of ilie saged, and truly, an important eliange
emperor jq ^Js domestic relations, which shed
iTress'"' ^ ^^y ^^ happiness over his last mo-
ments. His mind, naturally inclined
to deep and mj'stical religious emotions, had
been much aflected by tlie dreadful scenes
wliich he had witnessed at the inundation of
bt. Petersburg, and this domestic bereavement
(•onij)leted the impression that he was suffering,
by the justice of Heaven, the penalty of his
transgressions. Under the influence of these
feelings, he returned to his original disposi-
tions; and that mysterious change took place
in his mind, which so often, on the verge of the
grave, brings us back to the impressions of our
vouth. He again sought the society of the
empress, who had returned to St. Petersburg,
was attentive to her smallest wishes, and
.-ought to efface the recollection of former neg-
lect by every kindness which affection could
suggest. The change was not lost upon that
noble princess, who still nourished in her in-
most heart her first attachment ; and the recon-
ciliation was rendered complete by the gener-
ous tears which, in sympathy with her lius-
band's sorrow, she shed over the bier of her
rival's daughter. But she, too, was in an
alarming state of health ; long years of anxiety
and suffering had weakened her constitution,
and the physicians recommended a change, and
return to her native air. But the empress de-
clared that the sovereign must not die else-
where but in her own dominions, and she re-
fused to leave Russia. They upon this pro-
posed the Crimea; but Alexander gave the
J (reference of T.\g.\nrog. The emperor fixed
his departure for the 1.3th September, 1825,
some days before that of the empress, in order
to prepare every thing for her reception.
Though his own health was broken, as lie had
not recovered from an attack of
erysi[)ela3, lie resolved upon running
the risk of the journey ; an expedi-
tion of some thousand miles had no
terrors for one the half of wliose life
was spent in traveling.'
Sincerely religi
being sujiei'stitious, the cmjieror Iiad
a presentiment that this j
to be his last, and that he was about
to expire besi
tlie fiowcry meads and balmy air of
the south. Impressed with tiiis idea,
he had fixf'd his
September (old style, Uitli), the day
after a solemn service had been ecicbnted in tlio
cathedral of Kazan, on the translation of the
boiiesof the great I'rinee Alexander Newski from
tlie place of his sepulture at Vladimir to that
holy fjiiie on the banks of tlie Neva. On every
departure fi)r a long jouriic}', the emperor had
been in the habit of rejiairing to its altar to
play; but on this occasion he directed the
' Ma
Chojseul
(ioudier,
384, :i8t> ;
ScliiitUlur,
i. 105.
in2.
Solemn
service in
tlie eiitlie-
(Iral of
Notre
D.IKIC (Ic
Kazan.
Sept. 13.
metropolitan bishop in secret to have the serv-
ice for the dead chanted for him when he re-
turned on the following morning at four o'clock.
He arrived there, accordingly, next daj- at that
early hour, when it was still dark, and was met
by the priests in full costume as for the burial
service, the service of which was chanted as
he approached. He drove up to the cathedral
by the magnificent street of Perspective Newski
in a simple caleche drawn by three horses
abreast, without a single servant, and reached
the gate as the first streaks of light were be-
ginning to appear in the eastern sky. Wrap-
ped in his military cloak, without his sword,
and bareheaded, the emjieror alighted, kissed
the cross which the archbishop presented to
him, and entered the cathedral alone, the gates
of which were immediately closed after him.
The praj-er appointed for travelers was then
chanted ; the Czar knelt at the gate of the
rail which surrounded the altar, and received
the benediction of the prelate, who placed the
sacred volume on his head, and, receiving with
pious care a consecrated cross and some relic
of the saint in his bosom, he again kissed the
emblem of salvation, " which gives i ocrtel
life,"* and departed alone and unat- Derniers
tended, save by the priests, who con- Jours
tinued to sing till he was beyond the 54''[;u^^'
gates of the cathedral the chant, Sc'linit'z. i.
" God save thy People." ' ^^^, HO.
The a^chl.i^llop, called in the Greek Church
"the Serapliini," requested the em-
peror, while his traveling carriage jUs depart,
was drawing up, to honor his cell ure from
with a visit, which he at once agreed ""^ cathe-
to do. Arrived at this retreat, the '
conversation turned on the Schimnik, an order
of peculiarly austere monks, who liad their
cells in the vicinity. The emperor expressed
a wish to see one of them, and immediately the
archbishop accompanied him to their chief The
emperor there found only a small apartment
furnished with deal boards, covered with black
cloth, and hung with the same funeral garb.
" I see no bed," said the emperor. " Here it is,"
said the monk ; and, drawing aside a curtain,
revealed an alcove, in which was a coffin cov-
ered with black cloth, and surrounded with all
the lugubrious habiliments of the dead. " This,"
he added, " is my bed ; it will ere long be yours,
and that of all, for their long sleep." The em-
peror was silent, and mused long. Then sud-
denly starting from his reverie, as if recalled to
the affaii's of this world, he bade them all atlieu
with the words, " Pray for me and for my wife."
He ascended his open calcche, the luir.-es of
which bore him toward the south with their
accustomed rapidity, and was soon out of sight;
but he was still uncovered when the j oertel CO
carriage disappeared in the obscure 04; Scli'nitz!
gray of the morning.* 'â– HI)- '14.
AlexaiKler made the journey in twelve days;
and as tliu distance was above fif- jg^
teen iiundred miles, and ho was His arrival
obliged to stop at many jilaces, he at'I'ugaiirog.
must have gone from a hundred and fifty to
two hundred miles a day. Ho was fully im-
pressed with the idea of Ids ! piiroaching death
the whoh; way, and often a.'keil the eoaeiunan
A term consecrated in tlie Hussian Church.
868
HISTORY OV EUROPE.
[Chap. VIII.
"if ho liml soon the â– wnndoring star?" "Yes,
your inajosty," ho roplioil. "I>o vou know
what it urosagosf Misfortuno i\m\ doath: but
(lOil's will bo done." Arrivod at 'raiiaiiiot;, he
ilovotod sovoral days to prcparini: ovcry thing
for tl»o onipros.s whioli lio did witli tiio utmost
solicitude and oare. Slie arrived ten days after,
and they remained together for some weeks,
walking" and driving out in the forenoon, and
conversing alone in the evening with the utmost
nfTeotion. more like newly-married persons than
those who had so long been severed. The cares
of empire, however, ere long tore the emperor
from this charming retreat; and on the urgent
entreaty of Count" Woronzoff, governor of the
Crimea, lie undertook a journey in that prov-
., ince. lie set out on the 1st November ;
and during seventeen days that the
expedition lasted, alternately admired the ro-
mantic mountain scenery and beautiful sea
views, rivaling those of the Corniche between
Kice and Genoa, which the route presented.
Nov 10 ^^ Ghirai, however, on the 10th, after
dinner, when conversing with Sir James
"Wylio, his long-tried and faithful medical at-
tendant, on his anxiety about the empress,
who had just heard of the death of the King
of Bavaria, her brother-in-law, he mention-
ed, as if accidentallj', that he felt his stomach
deranged, and that for several nights his
sleep had been disturbed. Sir James felt his
pulse, which indicated fever, and earnestly
counseled the adoption of immediate remedies.
"I have no need of you," replied the emperor,
smiling, "nor of your Latin pharmacopoeia — I
know how to treat myself. Besides, my trust
is in God, and in the strength of my constitu-
' Schnitz- tion." Notwitbstandingall that could
ler, i. 120, be said, he persisted in his refusal to
124 ; Ann. take medicine, and even continued
STs'sT-l" '''^ journey, and exposed himself to
s'ir'james his wonted fatigue on horseback
VVyUe, 37, when returning along the pestilential
*'• shores of the Putrid Sea.'
He returned to Taganrog on the llth, being
jQg the exact "day fixed for that event
Ilis last ill- before his departure ; but already
ness. shivering fits, succeeded by cold ones,
Nov. 17. ^jjg well-known symptoms of inter-
mittent fever, had shown themselves. The em-
press, with whom he shared every instant that
could be spared from the cares of empire, show-
ed him the most uni'cmitting attention, and by
the earnest entreaties of his physician he was
at length prevailed on to take some of the usual
remedies prescribed for such cases. For a brief
space they had the desired effect ; and the ad-
vices sent to St. Petersburg of the august pa-
tient's convalescence threw the people, who had
been seriously alarmed by the accounts of his
illness, into a delirium of joy. But these hopes
proved fallacious. On the 25th the symptoms
J „. suddenly became more threatening. =
76 7'y An. Extreme weakness confined him to
Hist. viii. his couch, and alarming dispatches
374, 375 ; from General Diebitch and Count
i '^la'-ZlsI' Woronzoff augmented his anxiety, by
revealing the existence and magni-
tude of the vast conspiracy in the army, which
had for its object to deprive him of his throne
and life. "My friend," said he to Sir James
Wylie, "what a frightful design! The mon-
8tei*s — the ungrateful ! when I had no thought
but for their happiness."*
The symptoms now daily became more alarm-
ing, and the fever assumed tlie form jqc
of the bilious or gastric, as it is now And lUath.
called, and at last showed the worst ^"^- '-*'â–
features of the typhus. His physicians then,
despairing of his life, got Prince Volkonsky to
suggest the last duties of a Christian. "They
have spoken to me, Wjdie," said the emperor,
"of the communion; has it really come to
that?" "Yes," said that faithful counselor,
with tears in his ej^cs ; " I speak to you no
longer as a phj'sician, but as a friend. Your
Majesty has not a moment to lose." Kext day
tiie emperor" confessed, and with the empress,
who never for an instant, day or night, left his
bedside, received the last communion. "For-
get the emperor," said he to the confessor;
" speak to me simply as a dying Christian."
After this he became perfectly docile. " Is ever,"
said he to the empress, " have I felt such a glow
of inward satisfaction as at this moment; I
thank you from the bottom of my heart." The
symptoms of erisypelas in his leg now returned.
" I will die," said he, " like my sister," alluding
to the Grand Duchess of Oldenburg, who had re-
fused Napoleon at Erfurth, and afterward died
of that complaint. He then fell into a deep
sleep, and wakened when it was near mid-day,
and the sun was shining brightly. Causing the
windows to be opened, he said, looking at the
blue vault, "What a beautiful day !" f and feel-
ing the arms of the empress around him, he
said tenderly, pressing her hand, " My love, j^ou
must be very fatigued." These were his last
words. He soon after fell into a lethargic
sleep, which lasted several hours, from which
he only wakened a few minutes be-
fore he breathed his last. The power of
speech was gone ; but he made a sign to the
empress to approach, and imprinted a last and
fervent kiss on her hand. The rattle was soon
heard in his throat. She closed his eyes a few
minutes after, and, placing the cross
on his bosom, embraced his lifeless j 134 'I'se ^'
remains for the last time. "Lord!" Wyiie, 79,'
said she, " pardon my sins ; it has 82 ; Ann.
pleased thy omnipotent power to "'*'• '^''"•
take him from me." ' |
374, 375.
* " Le monarquedit un joura M. Wylie, 'Laissez-moi,
je sais moi-meme,ce qu'il me (aut : du repos, de la soli-
tude, de la tranquillite.' Un autre jour, il lui dit : ' Mon
ami, ce sont mes nerfs qu'il faut soigner ; ils sont dans un
desordre epouvantable.' ' C'est un mal,' lui repliqua
Wylie, ' dont les rois sont plus souvent atteints que les
partieuliers.' ' Surtout dans les temps actuels,' repliqua
vivement Alexandre ! ' Ah ' j'ai bien sujct d'etre malade.'
Enfin, eiant en apparenee sansaucune fievre, I'Enjpereur
se tourna brusquement vers le docteur, qui etait seul
present. ' Mon ami,' s ecria-t-il, ' quclles actions, quellcs
epouvantables actions:' et il fi.va sur le medecin un re-
gard terrible et incomprehensible.' — Annuaire Historique,
viii. 37, note.
t " Light — more light I" the well-known last words of
Goethe, as noticed by Buhver in his beautiful romance,
" My Novel." Those who have witnessed the last mo-
ments of the dying, know how often a request for, or ex-
pressions of satislaction for light, are among their last
words.
t The empress addressed the following beautiful letter
to her mother-in-law on tliis sad bereavement : " Maman,
votre ange est au ciel, et moi, je vegeie encore sur la lerre.
Qui aurait pense que moi, faible malade, je pourrais lui
survivre '. Maman, ne m'abandonnez pas, car je suis ab-
solument seule dans ce monde de douleurs. Noire cher
defunt a repris son air de bienveillance, son fourire nie
prouve qu'il est heureux, et qu'il voit des choscs plua
1626.]
HISTORY OF EUROPE.
269
The body of the emperor, after beinsj em-
J07 balnied, was brought to the Church
And fuller- of St. Alexander Newski at Taganrog,
*'â– where it remained for some days in a
chapelle ardente, surrounded by his mourning
subjects, and was thence transferred, aceompa
nied b\- a splendid cortege of cavalry, Cossacks,
and artillery, after a long interval, to the cathe-
dral of St. Peter and St. Paul, in the citadel of
St. Petersburg, where his ancestors were laid.
The long journey occupied several weeks, and
ever}' night, wjien his remains were deposited
iu the church of the place where the procession
rested, crowds of people, from a great distance
around, flocked to the spot to kneel down, and
kiss the bier where tlieir beloved Czar was laid.
Ma h 10 '^''^ body reached St. Petersburg on
the 10th of March, but the interment,
which was conducted with extraordinary mag-
nificence in the cathedral, did not take place
till the 25th. The Grand Duke Mcholas (now
become emperor), wltli all the imperial family,
was present on the occasion, and a splendid as-
sembly of the nobility of Russia and diplomacy
of Europe. There was not a heart wliich was
not moved, scarce an eye that was not moist-
ened with tears. The old grenadiers, his com-
rades in the campaigns in Germany and France,
and who bore the weight of the coffin when
taken to the grave, wept like children ; and he
I Gazette de ^^^ followed to his last home by his
St. Peters- faithful servant Ilya, who liad driv-
bur^, March en tlie car from Taganrog, a distance
s'-'hiiu'zier ^^ fifteen hundred miles, and who
ii. 235, 244 ; stood in tears at the side of tlie bier,
Ann. Hist, as his beloved master was laid iu
i.x. 337, 338. the tomb. 1
The Empress Elizabeth did not long survive
„ the husband who, despite all her sor-
Death and I'ows, had ever reigned supreme in
bu.'iul of her heart. The feeble state of her
tliee.nprcss. health did not permit of her accom-
panying his luneral procession to bt.
Petersburg, which she was passionately desirous
to liave done ; and it was not till the 8th May
that she was able to leave Taganrog on her
way to the capital. The entire population of
tlie town, by whom she was extremely beloved,
aficompanied lier for a considerable distance on
the road. Her weakness, liowever, increased
ra[)idly as she continued her journey; grief for
the loss of her husband, along with the sudden
cessation of tlie anxiety for his life, and the
want of any other object in existence, proved
fatal to a constitution already weakened by
long years of mourning and severance. She
with difficulty reached Bclcf, a small town in
the government of Toule, where she breatlicd
May 10. ''«•■'"•'*'•, serene and tranquil, on the 16th
Ma}-. Her remains were brought to St.
Petersburg, where she was carried to the cathe-
dral on the same car which had conveyed lier
July 3 ^"is'-"i"'l. ai'l lai'l beside him on the \'A
July. Thus terminated a marriage, cel-
ebrated thirty years before with every pro.spcct
of earthly felicity, and every splendor whicii
the most e.xalted rank could confer. " I liave
seen," said a Russian poet, " that couple, he
belles qu' ici-bas. Ma Houle con.solaliDM ilans cette pcrte
irreparable est, que je iie lui snrvivrai pas . j'ai I'espe-
lancc (le m'unir bienlot a liii."— L'lMi-EUATUKJii a
.Marie Foedohovna, 2 Due, 1625.
beautiful as Hope, she ravishing as Felicity.
It seems only a day since Catherine placed on
their youthful heads the nuptial crown of
roses; soon the diadems were mingled with
thorns; and too soon, alas! the angel ,g j^ . ,
of death environed their pale fore- n. 263, see •,'
heads with poppies, the emblem of Ann. Hist.
eternal si
eep.
i.x. 341,342.
Had Alexander died shortly after the first
capture of Paris in 1814, he would 109.
have left a name unique in the his- Hischarac-
tory of the world, for seldom had so ''^'"•
great a part been so nobly played on such a
theatre. It is hard to say whether his forti-
tude in adversit}% his resolution in danger, or
his clemency in victory, were then most admi-
rable. For the first time in the annals of man-
kind, the sublime principles of forgiveness of
injuries were brought into the government)* of
nations in the moment of their highest excite-
ment, and mercy in the hour of triumph re-
strained the uplifted hand of justice. To tho
end of the world the flames of Moscow will be
associated with the forgiveness of Paris. But
time has taken much from the halo which then
environed his name, and revealed weaknesses
in liis character well known to his personal
friends, but the existence of which the splen-
dor of his former career had hardly permitted
to be suspected. He had many veins of mag-
nanimity in his character, but he was not a
thoroughly great man. He was so, like a
woman, by impulse and sentiment, rather than
principle and habit. Chateaubriand said, " 11
avait I'ame forte, mais le caractere foible."
lie wanted tho constanc}' of purpose and per-
severance of conduct which is the distinguish-
ing and highest mark of the masculine char-
acter.
Warm-hearted, benevolent, and affectionate,
he was without the steadiness which
springs from internal conviction, and jisf 'tn
the consistency which arises from the
feelings being permanently guided by the oon.
science and ruled by the reason. He Avas sin,
cerely desirous of promoting the happiness of
his subjects, and deeply impressed with a sense
of duty in that respect; but his projects of
amelioration were not based upon practical in-
formation, and consequently, in great part,
failed in cfl'ect. They savored more of the
philanthroi)ic dreams of his Swiss preceptor
La llarpe tiian either the manners, customs, or
character of his own people. At times he was
magnanimous and heroic, when circumstances
called forth tlie.se elevated (jiialitics; but at
others ho Avas flexible and weak, when he fell
under influences of a less creditable description.
Essentially religious in his disposition, he some-
times sank into the dreams of superstition. The
antagonist of JN'apoleon at one time camo to
share the reveries of Madame Krudcner at
another. Affectionate in |)rivatc life, lie yet
broke the lieart of his empress, who showed
by lier noble conduct on his deatJi-bcd how en-
tirely she was worthy of his regard. His char,
acter affords a memorable example of the truth
so often enforced by moralist.s, so generally for-
got in the world, that it is in the ruling ]>owcr
of the mind, rather than the imi)ulses by which
it is inllucnccd, that tho distinguishing mark
of cIiai-Mcter is to be looked for; and that no
•::o
III STORY OF EUR OPE.
[Chap. VIII.
amount of ponoroslfy of disposition can oom-
poiisnto for the want of tlio tirnmess wliieli is
to control it.
The death of Aloxandcr was succeeded by
events in Russia of the very highest
siati'oiihe importance, and which revealed the
sui-cossion depth of the abyss on tiie edge of
10 ilie which the despotic sovereigns of Eu-
ihrone. rope slumbered in fancied security.
It occasioned, at the same time, a contest of
generosity between the two brothers of Alex-
ander. Constantine and Nicholas, unexampled in
history, and which resembles rather the fabled
magnanimity with which the poets extricate
the difficulties of a drama on the opera stage,
than any thing which occurs in real life. By
a ukase of (.5) 16th April, 1797, the Emperor
Paul had abolished the right of choosing a suc-
cessor out of the imperial family, which Peter
the Great had assumed, and establish-
April 10, ^j forever the succession to the crown
in the iisual order, the males succeed-
ing before the females, and the elder in both
before the younger. This settlement had been
formally sanctioned b}- the Emperor Alexander
1 iju-gp on two solemn occasions, and it consti-
Aug. 27,' tutedtheacknowledgedandsettledlaw
1807, and of the empire.' As the late emperor
fj-^o' '' ''^*^ °°^^ ^^ *^ daughters, both of whom
died in infancy, the undoubted heir to
the throqe, when he died, was the Grand Duke
Constantine, then at Warsaw, at the head of
the government of Poland. On the other hand,
the Grand Duke Nicholas, the next younger
brother, was at St. Petersburg, where he was
high in command, and much beloved by the
guards in military possession of the capital. In
these circumstances, if a contest was to be ap-
prehended, it was between the younger brother