Terrible Tsarinas

arms. By now, Elizabeth had no more doubt that the Good Lord

had guided her to place her confidence in this diminutive 15-year-

old princess. Catherine was indeed the right wife for that simple-

ton, Peter, and the right daughter-in-law to enable her to enjoy life

and end her days in peace. They set out again for Khotilovo, to-

gether. Arriving in the village, they went to see the Grand Duke,

who was racked with fever, perspiring and shivering on a miser-

able cot. Was this pitiful scene the end of the dynasty of Peter the

Great? And was this the end of Catherine’s aspirations? The em-

press was anxious to avoid infecting the girl before the wedding,

so Catherine, at her request, set out again for St. Petersburg with

her mother, leaving Her Majesty at the Grand Duke’s bedside.

For weeks, in a primitive and poorly heated hovel, Elizabeth

watched over the stupid and ungrateful heir who had played such

a nasty trick, trying to back out of the game just when they were

both on the point of winning. And little by little, Peter’s fever di-

minished and he began to achieve some relative lucidity.

By the end of January 1745, Peter had recovered from the fe-

ver and the empress escorted him back to St. Petersburg. He had

changed so much during his illness that Elizabeth was afraid the

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bride-to-be would be shocked — her fiancé, never handsome, was

now revolting. The small pox had disfigured him terribly. With

his shaved head, swollen face, bloodshot eyes and cracked lips, he

was a caricature of the young man he had been just a few months

before. Catherine was sure to be horrified. Elizabeth put a big

wig on Peter’s head in an attempt to improve his disastrous ap-

pearance, but topped with a cascade of false curls, he looked even

worse. There wasn’t much to do but allow destiny take its course.

As soon as the travelers had arrived and settled into the Winter

Palace, young Catherine rushed to visit her miraculously recuper-

ated fiancé. Elizabeth, heart in throat, presided over their reun-

ion. At the sight of Grand Duke Peter, Catherine froze. Her

mouth half-opened, her eyes wide, she stammered out some pleas-

antry to congratulate her fiancé on his recovery, dropped a quick

curtsey and fled as if she had just met a ghost.

February 10 was the Grand Duke’s birthday. The empress,

dismayed by his appearance, even advised him against showing

himself in public. However, she still harbored the hope that, over

time, his physical flaws would begin to fade. What concerned her

more, for the time being, was the little interest he showed in his

betrothed. According to people in Catherine’s entourage, Peter

had boasted to her of having had mistresses. But was he even ca-

pable of satisfying a woman? Was he “normal,” in that regard?

And would the delightful Catherine be charming enough, inven-

tive enough to awaken the desire of such an odd husband? Would

she give children to the country that was already impatient for

them? What could remedy the sexual deficiency of a man who

found the sight of a well-trained regiment more exciting than that

of a young woman lying languidly in the shadows of the bedroom?

The doctors, taking secret council, decided that the Grand Duke

might find the ladies more attractive if he drank less. Moreover,

in their opinion, his inhibition was only temporary and he would

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An Autocrat at Work and Play

soon go through a “better phase.” Lestocq concurred. But the em-

press was surprised that neither Catherine nor Peter was in any

hurry. After lengthy discussions, she set the date of the ceremony,

irrevocably. The most superb weddings of the century would take

place on August 21, 1745.

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Footnotes

1. Catherine II : Mémoires.

2. A pejorative name signifying “Razumovsky’s mother”.

3. K. Waliszewski, op. cit.

4. Reported by K. Waliszewski : La Dernière des Romanov, Élisabeth Ire.

5. Cf. Daria Olivier, op. cit.

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IX

ELIZABETHAN RUSSIA

When it came to organizing these important festivities,

Elizabeth left nothing to chance. The morning of the ceremony,

she sat in Catherine’s dressing room and examined her, naked,

from head to toe. She directed the maids-in-waiting in the selec-

tion of underclothes, discussed with the hairdresser the best way

of arranging her hair, and chose, unilaterally, the silver brocaded

gown with a full skirt, short sleeves, and a train embroidered with

roses. Then, emptying her jewel case, she supplemented the orna-

mentation with necklaces, bracelets, rings, brooches and elaborate

earrings, all of which so weighed down the bride that she was re-

duced to posing like a hieratic figure, barely able to move. The

grand duke, too, was encased in silver fabric and decked out in

imperial jewels; but while the bride may have appeared like a ce-

lestial vision, he, looking like a monkey disguised as a prince, was

liable to provoke a good laugh. The buffoons that had surrounded