I put my wife on the line said the prince

I put my wife on the line said the prince. The prince was furious: the card did not work. He lost to his rival, Count Razumovsky, time after time. The stakes kept rising and, finally, the amount of property lost by the prince reached limits bordering on complete ruin.

The only way to avoid shame was to recoup. No matter what, win back! Just what to put on the line? Your estate, losing which, to be left without a roof over your head and put a bullet in your forehead?

You can put your wife on the line, Alexander Nikolaevich, - his opponent suddenly said. - In this case, everything you lost earlier in any scenario will remain with you.

The prince stared at the count in surprise: isn't he joking? No, he wasn't joking. Alexander Nikolaevich immediately remembered secular gossip about Razumovsky's love for his wife. Anger began to fill the prince's soul, but he coped with this irrational feeling, and said hoarsely:

 Okay, I'll bet my wife.

On April 10, 1772, the second wife of State Councilor Grigory Ivanovich Vyazemsky gave birth to his charming daughter, who was named Maria.

In 1789, at the age of 17, papa gave Maria for one of the richest people in the empire - Prince Alexander Nikolaevich Golitsyn. Golitsyn was only three years older than his wife, however, already at such a young age he enjoyed the reputation of an inveterate petty tyrant, an extremely cruel and rude person.

In addition, Alexander Nikolayevich was a big reveler and spendthrift, so most of the inheritance left by his father (which, by the way, attracted the state councilor Vyazemsky), was spent by him in the first couple of years of his life with Maria Grigoryevna.

As the money disappeared from the bins of Golitsyn, he became more and more picky and harsh towards his young wife. It was said in the world that the prince mercilessly beats the poor thing.

Once, at one of the balls, Maria Grigoryevna was seen by Count Lev Kirillovich Razumovsky, a talented military leader, owner of the richest Moscow estate Petrovskoye, and just a very educated and good-natured man who, by the way, was fifteen years older than Princess Golitsyna.

The count was struck by the outward appearance of the "sad beauty" who lives under the same roof with the tyrant. Lev Kirillovich fell in love immediately and forever, and the princess reciprocated.

However, on the way of the lovers was the husband of Maria Grigorievna - Prince Golitsyn.

Lev Kirillovich began to look for a way to eliminate this "obstacle". The original plan was to offend Golitsyn with action and then duel him. However, the tears of Maria Grigoryevna forced Razumovsky to abandon this undertaking.

In society, they knew perfectly well that Prince Golitsyn was a desperate player, however, an inept and unlucky player. Razumovsky decided to take advantage of this weakness.

In 1799, the count came to visit Golitsyn and invited him to play cards.

The prince refused such proposals. The servants were immediately ordered to prepare the table, wine and candles.

They played all night long. Razumovsky won over and over again, which put Golitsyn into a state of uniform frenzy. The prince, who was already on the verge of ruin, found himself in a situation where it was just right to take travel bags with his wife and go begging.

And it was here that Razumovsky delivered a decisive blow to Golitsyn: Maria Grigoryevna as the main bet, in any case, covering all the losses of the prince. In other words, in the event of a victory, Golitsyn received everything, and, in the event of a defeat, he lost only his wife.

The offer was incredibly tempting, however, Alexander Nikolayevich initially refused, frightened. Annoyed Razumovsky had already begun to stuff banknotes into his pockets, when Golitsyn nevertheless changed his mind, in the heat of excitement once again relying on his "lucky star".

The lucky star failed the prince - he lost again. Razumovsky immediately returned to Alexander Nikolaevich all his money to the penny, and Maria Grigorievna was informed that she "could get ready."

Razumovsky took his “winnings” to the Petrovsky estate, where he began to live with Maria Grigoryevna, as with his lawful wife. Meanwhile, the story of the card game became the property of not only Moscow and St. Petersburg, but all of Russia.

For Maria Grigorievna, the news that she, the princess, had been won at cards like a serf girl, was a huge shock: she was sure that Alexander Nikolayevich had simply let her go.

Nevertheless, wide publicity benefited the lovers: the church became interested in the situation, recognizing Golitsyn's bet as a blatant desecration of the sacred bonds of marriage. As a result, Maria Grigoryevna received a long-awaited divorce.

In 1802, the wedding of Lev Kirillovich and Maria Grigoryevna took place in one of the Moscow churches.

The wedding of Razumovsky and the divorced Princess Golitsyna caused a new wave of condemnation in secular society. Maria Grigorievna was called immoral behind her back, although no one refused to attend her magnificent balls in Petrovsky-Razumovsky.

Many aristocrats, including representatives of the Razumovsky family and the imperial family, did not consider marriage legal. The situation was saved by Emperor Alexander I. A relative of Maria Grigoryevna, the famous poet Prince P.A. Vyazemsky described the intervention of the tsar in the fate of a woman as follows:

At one ball in the governor's house, the sovereign approached Marya Grigoryevna and said loudly in French: "Madame Countess, would you do me the honor of dancing a polonaise with me?" From that moment on, she entered into all the rights of both a legal wife and a count's dignity.

A memorable polonaise in the governor's house happened in 1809, after which the marriage of Maria Grigoryevna and Lev Kirillovich was officially recognized.

Finally, the Razumovskys got the opportunity to live in peace, enjoying their love. And the love between them was huge, real: contemporaries called this marriage the happiest in the empire. The count and countess adored each other, could not live long apart.

The only thing that marred the life of the spouses was the absence of common children. However, unlike many other aristocratic couples who do not want to take other people's offspring into the house, the Razumovskys without hesitation adopted three children at once - a boy (the future senator I.I. Podchassky) and two girls.

In 1818, at the age of 61, Count Razumovsky died, leaving his wife all his vast fortune. Maria Grigoryevna's grief knew no bounds, and then another of the brothers of the late husband, Alexei Razumovsky, filed a lawsuit against the widow, demanding part of the inheritance.

The litigation lasted three years - and throughout this period, accustomed to luxury, the countess lived, in fact, in poverty.

In the end, the court rejected the claims of Alexei Kirillovich, recognizing Razumovsky's will in favor of his wife as "the only valuable one."

The process took away a lot of health from the countess, therefore, on the advice of a doctor, she immediately went on vacation abroad.

Maria Grigorievna lived for a long time in Vienna, in Paris, in Karlsbad. And everywhere her house became a place of attraction not only for the local aristocracy, but also for famous writers, artists, philosophers. The fascination of Europeans with the kind-hearted and generous Russian countess was so strong that even a monument was erected to her in Karlsbad. Nevertheless, as the same P.A. Vyazemsky:

with all her love for society, its temptations and vain amusements, she kept in herself an unfinished and, so to speak, illuminated corner, the limit of legends and memory of the past. Next to her salons and the large hall was a cherished, homely, cordial refuge for her. There was a chapel with family images, a marble bust of the Savior, the work of a famous Italian artist, with unquenchable lamps and a portrait of the late count.

Yes, the beloved count accompanied her everywhere. Never for a single moment did she forget her dear husband.

Maria Grigorievna said that love for Lev Kirillovich warms her and prolongs her life. And the life of the countess turned out to be long: she died on August 9, 1865 at the age of 93. Thus, she survived her first, unloved, husband by 48 years, the second, beloved - by 49.

In her will, Maria Grigoryevna asked to be buried in the cemetery of the Donskoy Monastery next to her husband. Which is what was done.

This was the fate of a woman who survived a great humiliation - still, she, a hereditary aristocrat, lost at cards! - but, thanks to her good nature and love of life, she was able to forget all the bad things and win from life what few people manage to get - happiness and longevity.