kov could only write a letter of protest and justification, which he
doubted would ever be transmitted to the intended recipient.
The next day the charges began to mount, increasingly iniq-
uitous, increasingly defamatory. Stripped of his titles and privi-
leges, Menshikov was exiled to his own estate, for life — in other
words, he was permanently grounded. With whatever posses-
sions he could throw together on the spot, the condemned left St.
Petersburg by slow caravan — and no one came out to see him off.
He who had been everything, yesterday, was a nonentity today.
His most enthusiastically obliged friends became his worst ene-
mies. And the tsar’s hatred continued unabated. At every stage
along the road, a missive from the palace announced a new dis-
grace for him. At Vyshny-Volochok came an order to disarm the
deposed favorite’s servants; at Tver, it was announced that he had
taken too many servants, horses and carriages — those in excess
were to be returned to St. Petersburg; at Klin came the order to
confiscate from Miss Maria Menshikov, ex-fiancée of the tsar, the
ring by which he had pledged his troth; and finally, at the ap-
proaches to Moscow, came an order to by-pass the old city of
< 44 >
kings and to continue without delay to Orenburg, in the remote
province of Riazan.6
Reaching that city at the border between European Russia
and Western Siberia, on November 3, Menshikov, his heart in his
throat, got his first view of the place to which he had been rele-
gated. The house, enclosed behind the crenellated walls of a for-
tress, looked perfectly suited to serve as a prison. Sentinels were
assembled to guard every exit. An officer was charged with sur-
veillance over the family’s comings and goings. All of Menshikov’s
correspondence was inspected before being forwarded. Menshi-
kov refused to admit defeat; he tried to redeem himself by sending
messages of repentance to those who had condemned him.
However, at roughly the same time, the Supreme Privy
Council received a report from Count Nicholas Golovin, Russia’s
ambassador in Stockholm. This confidential document de-
nounced some of the Serene Prince’s recent intrigues. Prior to his
dismissal, he apparently had picked up some 5,000 ducats from
the English for informing Sweden of the dangers posed by Rus-
sia’s support for the Duke of Holstein’s territorial claims. This
treason by a Russian dignitary to the benefit of a foreign power
opened the way with a new series of denouncements and heavy
blows. Hundreds of letters, some signed, some anonymous, piled
up on the table at the Supreme Privy Council. Emulating each
other, ganging up on someone who was down, everyone re-
proached Menshikov for his suspicious sources of income and for
the millions of gold coins discovered in his various houses. Johann
Lefort even thought it useful to let his government know that the
silver vessel seized on December 20 in a secret cache at Menshi-
kov’s principal residence weighed 70 poods7 and that they hoped
to find additional treasures during subsequent searches. The ac-
cumulated evidence of abuse of power, embezzlement, theft and
treason merited that the Supreme Privy Council sanction him
< 45 >
mercilessly. The initial punishment was considered to have been
too soft; a legal commission was established to handle the matter.
The commission began by arresting the unmasked despot’s three
secretaries. Then Menshikov was given a twenty-point question-
naire, and ordered to respond “as soon as possible.”
However, whereas they had agreed on the need for eliminat-
ing Menshikov, the members of the Supreme Privy Council were
bickering among themselves as to how to distribute the power
after his downfall. Ostermann had initially taken charge of cur-
rent affairs; but the Dolgorukys, on the strength of their family’s
seniority, became increasingly impatient to supplant “the West-
phalian.” Their direct rivals were the Golitsyns, whose family tree
was, according to them, at least equally glorious. Each party was
grasping for as much as it could get, without overly concerning
themselves about Peter II nor Russia. Since the tsar’s only preoc-
cupation was to have fun, there was no reason for the great ser-
vants of the State to tax themselves overmuch in defending the
welfare and the prosperity of the country instead of looking to
their own interests. The Dolgorukys counted on young Ivan, so
attractive and seductive, to turn the tsar against his aunt Eliza-
beth and her sister Natalya, whose ambitions seemed suspicious.
For his part, Dmitri Golitsyn charged his son-in-law, the elegant
and none too scrupulous Alexander Buturlin, with engaging His
Majesty in varied enough pleasures to keep his mind off politics.
But Elizabeth and Natalya suspected what the Dolgorukys and
Golitsyns were up to. Together, they tried to open the young
tsar’s eyes, alerting him to the dangers that lurked behind those
pleasant smiles with the sharp teeth.