Having been brought up to date on these unexpected developments, it was Elizabeth’s turn to hesitate. Should she take the plunge? She could already see what would happen if she failed - she would be denounced, thrown into prison, have her head shaved, and end her days in a loneliness worse than death. La Chetardie shared a similar concern for himself and admitted that he no longer closed his eyes at night, and that at the least noise he would “run to the window, believing that all was lost.”7 And furthermore, he had already incurred the wrath of Ostermann, re«107»
Terrible Tsarinas cently, following an alleged diplomatic faux pas; he had been invited not to set foot again in the Summer Palace until further orders. He took refuge in the villa that he had let at the gates of the capital, but he did not feel safe anywhere. He took to receiving Elizabeth’s emissaries on the sly, preferably at nightfall. He believed he had been politically excommunicated, for good; but, after a period of penitence, Ostermann authorized him to tender his letters of accreditation - provided that he presented them to the baby tsar in person. Once again admitted to the court, the ambassador took the opportunity to meet Elizabeth Petrovna and to murmur to her, during an aside, that France had great plans for her. Serene and smiling, she replied, “Being the daughter of Peter the Great, I believe I remain faithful to my father’s memory by placing my confidence in the friendship of France and in asking for its support in exercising my proper rights.”8 La Chetardie was careful not to reveal these subversive remarks, but the rumor of a conspiracy began to spread throughout the regent’s entourage. At once, Anna Leopoldovna’s supporters were aflame with vindicatory zeal. Anthony Ulrich, as her husband, and the count of Lynar, as her favorite, both warned her of the risk she was running. They urged her to increase the security at the gates of the imperial residence and to arrest the ambassador of France at once. Impassive, she shrugged off these rumors and refused to overreact. She doubted her informants’ reports; but her chief rival, Elizabeth, having heard of the suspicions that swirled around her undertaking, was alarmed and begged La Chetardie to take greater care. Bundles of compromising documents were burned and Elizabeth, out of prudence, left the capital. She found some early conspirators in friendly villas close to Peterhof.
On August 13, 1741, Russia went to war with Sweden. The diplomats may have known the obscure reasons behind this conflict, but the people did not. All that was known, in the country«108»
One Anna after Another side, was that on the grounds of some very convoluted questions of national prestige, borders, and the succession, thousands of men were going to die, far from home, at the hand of the enemy.
But, for the moment, the imperial guard was not involved. And that was all.
At the end of November 1741, Elizabeth sadly noted that a plot as adventurous as hers would go nowhere without solid financial backing. Called to the rescue, La Chetardie scraped up what funds he could, and then called for the court of France to extend an additional advance of 15,000 ducats. As the French government persisted in turning a deaf ear, Lestocq prodded La Chetardie to take action, come what may, without waiting for Paris or Versailles to give him the go-ahead. Pressured, pushed, and with Lestocq twisting his arm, the ambassador went to the tsarevna and, painting a darker than necessary picture, asserted that according to the latest information the regent was preparing to have her thrown into a convent. Lestocq, who was there to back him up, confirmed without so much as raising a brow that she might be taken away and imprisoned any day. Such an eventuality was, indeed, precisely the nightmare that tormented Elizabeth. To convince her fully, Lestocq (who had some artistic talent) took a scrap of paper and made two sketches: in one, a sovereign was taking her throne, acclaimed by all the people, and in the other the same woman was taking the veil and walking, head bowed, toward a convent. He placed the two drawings under Elizabeth’s nose and barked: “Choose, Madam!”
“Very well,” the tsarevna answered; “I leave it to you to determine the moment!”9 She did not say anything, but one could read her fear in her eyes. Without regard for her pallor and her quaking nerves, Lestocq and La Chetardie drew up a detailed list of all her adver«109»
Terrible Tsarinas saries who would have to be arrested as soon as the victory was hers; at the top of the list, of course, was Ostermann. But there was also Ernst Munnich, son of the field marshal; Baron Mengden, father of Julie, so dear to the heart of the regent; Count Golovkin, Loewenwolde and some of their associates. However, they did not yet pronounce themselves on the fate that awaited, in the final analysis, the regent, her husband, her lover and her baby. Everything in its own time! To urge on the tsarevna, who was too timid for his liking, Lestocq affirmed that the soldiers of the Guard were ready to defend, through her, “the blood of Peter the Great.” At these words, she suddenly took heart and, galvanized, dazed, declared: “I will not betray that blood!”
This secret, decisive meeting took place in great secrecy on November 22, 1741. The following day, a reception was held at the palace. Hiding her anxiety, Elizabeth presented herself at the court wearing a ceremonial gown calculated to pique all her rivals and a smile calculated to disarm the most malevolent spirits.
Greeting the regent, she was apprehensive that she might hear some affront or an allusion to her friendships with gentlemen of not very suitable opinions, but Anna Leopoldovna seemed even more gracious than usual. She must have been too preoccupied with her love for the count of Lynar (who was away on a journey), and her fondness for Julie Mengden (whose wedding trousseau she was preparing), and the health of her son (whom she was coddling “like a good German mother,” as they said), to let herself get carried away with the endless rumors that were circulating about an alleged plot.
However, taking another look at her aunt, the tsarevna, so beautiful and so serene, she recalled that in his last letter Lynar had warned her that La Chetardie and Lestocq were playing a double game and that, impelled by France and perhaps even by Sweden, they seemed to have in mind overthrowing her in favor of
«110»
One Anna after Another Elizabeth Petrovna. Suddenly shaken, Anna Leopoldovna decided to clear the air. Seeing that her aunt was seated nearby, playing cards with some of the courtiers, she walked over, drew her aside, and asked her to follow her to a private room. Once alone with her, she spelled out the accusation that she had so recently heard.
Elizabeth was thunderstruck - she blenched, panicked, protested her innocence, swore that Anna had been misinformed, odiously misled - and threw herself at her niece’s feet, in tears.
Anna, upset by Elizabeth’s apparent sincerity, burst into tears, herself. Thus, instead of clashing, the two women embraced each other in a mingling of sighs and promises of good feelings. By the end of the evening, they parted like two sisters who had been brought closer by a shared danger.
But, as soon as the incident became known among their supporters, it took on the significance of a call to action. A few hours later, dining in a famous restaurant where oysters from Holland were sold as well as wigs from Paris, and which was moreover a meeting place for some of the best-informed men in the capital, Lestocq learned, via well-placed informers, that Ostermann had given orders for the Preobrazhensky Regiment (which was entirely behind the tsarevna) to move away from St. Petersburg. The pretext for this abrupt troop movement was the unexpected outbreak of war between Sweden and Russia; actually, it was as good a means as any other to deprive Elizabeth Petrovna of her surest allies in the event of a coup d’etat.