Having worked out the details of her secret plan, and having
ensured the delegation of her complete subservience, and making
a show of bidding Bühren a final good-bye, Anna set out, followed
by a retinue worthy of a princess of her rank. On February 10,
1730, she stopped for the night at the village of Vsyesvyatskoye, at
the gates of Moscow. Peter II’s funeral was to take place the fol-
lowing day. She would not make it in time — and this delay
suited her very well. Besides, as she soon heard, a scandal marred
the day of mourning. At the last moment Catherine Dolgoruky,
the late tsar’s fiancée, had demanded that she be given a place in
the procession among the members of the imperial family. Those
who were truly entitled to this privilege refused to allow her to
join them; and after an exchange of invectives, Catherine had gone
home, furious. These incidents were reported to Anna Ivanovna
in detail; she found it all very amusing. They made the calm and
quiet of the village of Vsyesvyatskoye, muffled under a blanket of
snow, seem all the more pleasant.
But now she had to direct her thoughts to making her en-
trance into the former capital of the tsars. Concerned to ensure
her popularity, she offered a round of vodka to the detachments of
the Preobrazhensky regiment and the Horse Guards who had
come to greet her, and forthwith she promoted to colonel the head
of these units, Count Simon Andreyevich Saltykov, her principal
collaborator, who had been a lieutenant-colonel. By contrast, re-
ceiving a courtesy visit from the members of the Supreme Privy
Council, she greeted them with frosty correctness; she pretended
to be surprised when the chancellor, Gabriel Golovkin, tried to
present her with the Order of St. Andrew, which was hers, by
right, as sovereign. “It’s true,” she observed with irony, blocking
his gesture, “I had forgotten to take it!” And, calling over one of
the men in her entourage, she invited him to hand her the cord,
< 69 >
thus snubbing the chancellor, who was flustered by such con-
tempt for customs. On their way out, the members of the Su-
preme Privy Council must have been thinking, privately, that this
tsarina was not going to be as easy to handle as they had thought.
On February 15, 1730, Anna Ivanovna finally made her sol-
emn entrance into Moscow and, on the 19th, oaths to Her Majesty
were sworn in the Assumption Cathedral and the main churches
of the city. Having been warned of the Empress’s poor opinion of
it, the Supreme Privy Council decided to release some ballast and
to modify somewhat the traditional text of the commitment,
swearing fealty to “Her Majesty and the Empire,” which should
calm any apprehensions. Then, after many secret meetings, and
taking into account the uncontrolled maneuverings among the
officers of the Guard, they resigned themselves to softening still
further the wording of the “interdicts” initially envisaged. Enig-
matic and smiling as ever, Anna Ivanovna noted these small cor-
rections without comment. She received her cousin Elizabeth
Petrovna with apparent fondness, accepted her hand-kissing and
affirmed that she felt much solicitude for their common family.
Before dismissing her, she even promised to see to it personally, as
sovereign, that Elizabeth Petrovna would never lack for anything
in her retirement.
However, in spite of this overt subservience and benevo-
lence, she had not lost sight of her goal, in leaving Mitau to return
to Russia. Within the Guard and the lesser and middle nobility,
her partisans were preparing a brilliant deed. On February 25,
1730, she was sitting on her throne, surrounded by the members of
the Supreme Privy Council, with a crowd of courtiers squeezing
around them in the grand salon of the Lefortovo Palace; suddenly,
a few hundred officers of the Guard barged in, with Prince Alexis
Cherkassky, declared champion of the new empress, at their head.
In a rambling speech he struggled to explain that the document
< 70 >
signed by Her Majesty, at the instigation of the Supreme Privy
Council, was in contradiction with the principles of the monarchy
by divine right. In the name of the million subjects devoted to the
cause of Holy Russia, he begged the tsarina to denounce this mon-
strous act, to convoke the Senate, the nobility, the senior officers,
and the church fathers as soon as possible, and to dictate to them
her own concept of power.
“We want a tsarina-autocrat, we do not want the Supreme
Privy Council!” one of the officers shouted, kneeling before her.
Anna Ivanovna, a consummate actress, feigned astonishment. She
appeared to have discovered, suddenly, that her good faith had
been abused. Believing that she was acting for the good of all in
renouncing some of her rights, she now found that she had only
done a service to the ambitious and the malicious! “What’s this!?”
she exclaimed. “When I signed the charter at Mitau, was I not
responding to the desires of the entire nation?” And in that mo-