he discontent and the secret murmurings of his court, that
I had formerly seen so placid and happy. It may be said with truth
that as long as Paul's reign lasted terror was the order of the day.
As one cannot torment one's fellowmen without being tormented oneself,
Paul was far from leading an enviable life. He had a fixed idea that
he would die by steel or by poison, and this conviction explains much
of his queer conduct. While going about the streets of St. Petersburg
alone at all hours of the day and night, he took the precaution to
have his broth made in his room, and the rest of his cooking was
likewise done in the secrecy of his apartment. The whole was
superintended by his faithful Kutaisoff, a confidential valet who had
been to Paris with him and was in constant attendance upon him. This
Kutaisoff had entertained an unlimited devotion for the Emperor, and
nothing could ever change it.

Paul was exceedingly ugly. A flat nose, and a very large mouth
furnished with very long teeth, made him look like a death's head. His
eyes were more than vivacious, though they often had a soft
expression. He was neither stout nor lean, neither tall nor short, and
although his whole person was not wanting in a sort of elegance, it
must be admitted that his face suggested opportunity for caricature.
Indeed, a number were made, in spite of the danger that such an
amusement threatened. One of them represented him holding a paper in
each hand. On one was written "order," on the other "counter-order,"
and on his forehead "disorder." At the mere mention of this caricature
I still feel a little shiver; for it must be understood that there
were lives in jeopardy, in which the artists' and the purchasers' were
included.

But all I have said did not hinder St. Petersburg from being a
pleasant as well as profitable place of sojourn for a painter. The
Emperor Paul loved and patronised the arts. A great admirer of French
literature, he munificently subsidised the actors to whom he owed the
pleasure of seeing our dramatic masterpieces performed.

Doyen, my father's friend and the historical painter I have already
mentioned, was distinguished by Paul as he had been by Catherine II.
Though very old at the time, Doyen, who had imposed a simple and
frugal manner of living upon himself, had accepted but a portion of
the Empress's generous offers. The Emperor continued in the path of
Catherine, and ordered a ceiling for the new palace of St. Micha