born into the world only a few weeks before the empress’ death, as
successor to the throne; during the minority of whom various persons
had conducted the administration of the empire in a manner highly
iniquitous, whence disturbances had arisen both within the country and
out of it, and probably in time still greater might arise; therefore
all the faithful subjects of Elizabeth, both in spiritual and temporal
stations, particularly the regiments of the life-guards, had unanimously
invited her, for the prevention of all the mischievous consequences to be
apprehended, to take possession of the throne of her father as nearest by
right of birth; and that she had accordingly resolved to yield to this
universal request of her faithful subjects, by taking possession of her
inheritance derived from her parents, the emperor Peter I and the empress
Catherine.
Shortly after this another manifesto appeared, in which Elizabeth
grounded her legitimacy on the will of Catherine I. As the statements
in this document respecting the right of inheritance are singular in
themselves, and as they illustrate in a very remarkable degree the
irregularity with which the question of the succession was suffered to
be treated, the passage touching upon those points appears to be worthy
of preservation. It will be seen, upon reference to previous facts, that
these statements are highly coloured to suit the demands of the occasion.
After some preliminaries, the manifesto proceeds to observe, that on the
demise of Peter II, whom she (Elizabeth) ought to have succeeded, Anna
was elected through the machinations of Ostermann; and afterwards, when
the sovereign was attacked by a mortal distemper, the same Ostermann
appointed as successor the son of Prince Antony Ulrich of Brunswick and
the princess of Mecklenburg, a child only two months old, who had not the
slightest claim by inheritance to the Russian throne; and, not content
with this, he added, to the prejudice of Elizabeth, that after Ivan’s
death the princes afterwards born of the said prince of Brunswick and the
princess of Mecklenburg should succeed to the Russian throne; whereas
even the parents themselves had not the slightest right to that throne.
That Ivan was, therefore, by the machinations of Ostermann and Munich,
confirmed emperor in October, 1740; and because the several regiments
of guards, as well as the marching regiments, were under the command of
Munich and the father of Ivan, and consequently the whole force of the
empire was in the hands of those two persons, the subjects were compelled
to take the oath of allegiance to Ivan. That Antony Ulrich and his spouse
had afterwards broken this ordinance, to which they themselves had sworn;
had forcibly seized upon the administration of the empire; and Anna had
resolved, even in the lifetime of her son Ivan, to place herself upon
the throne as empress. That, in order, then, to prevent all dangerous
consequences from these proceedings, Elizabeth had ascended the throne,
and of her own imperial grace had ordered the princess with her son and
daughter to set out for their native country.
Such were the arguments upon which Elizabeth attempted to justify her
seizure of the throne. With what sincerity she fulfilled the act of grace
towards the regent and her family, expressed in the last sentence, will
be seen hereafter.
ELIZABETH PETROVNA (1741-1762 A.D.)
The revolution which elevated Elizabeth to the throne and the
circumstances which preceded that elevation were in every respect
remarkable. She had no claim to the dignity, either by birth or by the
regulation in regard to the succession introduced by the innovating
Peter. Elizabeth was the younger daughter of Peter: Anna, who had been
married to the duke of Holstein, was the elder; and though this princess
was dead, she left a son, the representative of her rights, who, as
we shall hereafter perceive, did ultimately reign as Peter III. The
right of primogeniture, indeed, had, in the regulation to which we have
alluded, been set aside, and the choice, pure and simple, of the reigning
potentate substituted; but the infant Peter had the additional claim
of being expressly indicated in the will of Catherine I. These claims,
however, had been utterly disregarded when Anna, duchess of Courland and
daughter of Ivan, brother of Peter I, had been raised by a faction to the
throne. On the death of this empress without issue, Peter, as we have
seen, was again overlooked, through the ambition rather of an individual
than of a faction--the bloodthirsty Biron.
Ivan, the son of Anna, had been preferred to his mother, who had been
married to Prince Antony Ulrich of Brunswick; and no doubt could be
entertained that the object of Biron, in prevailing on the empress to
nominate the child, was to retain the supreme power in his own hands
as regent. We have seen by what means his ruin was effected; what
circumstances accompanied the regency of the duchess Anna, mother of the
youthful emperor; and how, by a similar revolution, Anna herself was
replaced by the princess Elizabeth.
That Ivan had no other right to the throne than that conferred
by the will of the empress Anna, was one of the pretexts which
Elizabeth employed to prove the validity of her own title. That will,
in the manifesto published three days after the revolution, was
insinuated--probably with great truth--to have been irregularly obtained;
but in either case it was of no validity, since the right of Elizabeth
was asserted to be superior even to that of the former empress. But the
instrument was a tissue of sophistry. Though she had been placed on the
throne by about three hundred soldiers, she did not hesitate to affirm
that the revolution had been effected at the demand of all her subjects.
In ostentatiously displaying her clemency, in proclaiming that she had
sent back the parents of Ivan to their own country, with all the honours
due to their station, she was equally insincere. Both passed their
lives in captivity, and were transferred from one fortress to another,
according to her caprice or jealousy. Until his eighth year Ivan was
permitted to remain with them; but, apprehensive lest his mind should be
taught ambition, he was consigned to solitary confinement first in the
fortress of Oranienburg, next in that of Schlüsselburg. In one respect
his fate was worse than that of his parents: they died in the course of
nature[50]; he, as we shall hereafter perceive, perished by violence.
[Illustration: ELIZABETH PETROVNA
(1709-1762)]
One of Elizabeth’s first cares was to punish the men who had, during
the former reigns, kept her from the throne--those especially who had
assisted the regent Anna in overturning the power of Biron, and had
instigated her afterwards to seize the throne. All were condemned to
death; but the new empress was not a woman of blood, and the sentence was
commuted into perpetual banishment. Ostermann, Munich, Golovkin, Mengden,
Lövenwold, driven from a power scarcely less than supreme and from riches
almost inexhaustible, were forced to earn their own subsistence in the
wilds of Siberia. Munich opened a school. The hand which had conquered
the Turks, which had given a king to Poland, was employed in tracing
mathematical figures for children.
If Elizabeth could punish, she could also reward. The surgeon, Lestocq,
was made head physician of the court, president of the college of the
faculty, and privy councillor, with a magnificent income. The company
of grenadiers who had raised her to the throne were all declared noble;
and the common soldiers ranked in future as lieutenants. But under a
despotic government there is little security for the great, least of all
for those whom capricious favour has exalted. Presuming on his services,
the ambition of Lestocq urged him to demand higher preferment, and he had
the mortification to be refused. Nor was this all: by his arrogance he
offended the most powerful favourites of Elizabeth, especially the grand
chancellor Bestuzhev, who had been the minister of Anna; and, in seven
years after the revolution, he was exiled to a fortress in the government
of Archangel. Exile, in short, was perpetual in this reign. The empress
vowed that no culprit should suffer death; but death would often have
been preferable to the punishments which were inflicted. Torture, the
knout, slitting of the tongue, and other chastisements--so cruel that the
sufferer frequently died in consequence--were not spared even females.
[Sidenote: [1743 A.D.]]
Soon after her accession a conspiracy was discovered, the object of
which was the restoration of young Ivan. The conspirators, who were
encouraged by a foreign minister, were seized, severely chastised,
and sent into exile. Among them was a court beauty, whose charms had
long given umbrage to the czarina, and we may easily conceive that the
revenge was doubly sweet which could at once destroy the rebel and the
rival. But the number of these victims was small, compared with that
which was consigned to unknown dungeons, and doomed to pass the rest of
life in hopeless despondency. With all her humanity, Elizabeth suffered
that most inquisitorial court, the secret chancery, to subsist; and the
denunciations which were laid before it were received as implicitly as
the clearest evidence in other tribunals.
_Foreign Affairs (1743-1757 A.D.)_
In her foreign policy this empress seems scarcely to have had an object.
Averse to business, and fond of pleasure, she allowed her ministers,
especially Bestuzhev, to direct the operations of the wars in which
she was engaged, and to conduct at will the diplomacy of the empire.
Her first enemy was Sweden. That power demanded the restitution of
Finland, and was refused; hostilities which, indeed, had commenced at the
instigation of France during the last reign, were resumed, but they were
prosecuted with little vigour by the Swedes. The valour of the nation
appeared to have died with their hero, Charles XII. So unfortunate were
their arms that, by the Treaty of Nystad, in 1721, and that of Åbo, in
1743, Livonia, Esthonia, Karelia, Ingermanland, Viborg, and Kexholm
passed under the domination of Russia.
Still worse than the loss of their possessions was the influence
thenceforward exercised over the court of Stockholm by that of St.
Petersburg. In vain did Sweden endeavour to moderate the exactions of the
empress by electing the duke of Holstein, her nephew, successor to the
throne of the Goths: the Treaty of Åbo was not the less severe. It is,
indeed, true that the intelligence of this election did not reach St.
Petersburg until Elizabeth herself, who was resolved never to marry,[51]
had already nominated Duke Peter as her own successor; but she ought to
have received in a better spirit a step designed as an act of homage to
herself.
Had Elizabeth known her own interests, she would never have engaged in
the celebrated war which during so many years shook all Europe to its
centre. But, in the first place, she affected much commiseration for the
Polish king, whose Saxon dominions were invaded by the Prussians, and
whom she called her ally. In the second, she was evidently actuated by a
personal antipathy to Frederick, and whoever were his enemies were sure
to be her allies. It would, however, be wrong to suppose that personal
feeling alone was her sole motive for interfering in a foreign war.
There can be no doubt that even at this early period, and indeed long
before this period, the ministers of Russia had cast a longing eye on the
possessions of Poland.
[Sidenote: [1757 A.D.]]
Courland and Semigallia, though nominally dependent on the Polish crown,
were in reality provinces of Russia. They had been lost to Poland
through the marriage of Anna, niece of Peter I, to Kettler, sovereign
of the duchy. Though she had no issue; though Ferdinand, the successor
of Kettler, was also childless; though the Polish diet contended, with
justice, that the fief was revertible to the republic, Anna was resolved
that its future destiny should be changed. Under the pretext of certain
pecuniary claims, the Russian troops overran the territory; and the
states were compelled to elect Biron, the parent of the empress, to the
vacant dignity. After the fall of that unprincipled adventurer, the
states, disgusted with Russian preponderance, had ventured to unite
their suffrages in favour of Charles, son of Frederick Augustus III
king of Poland; but Frederick durst not sanction the election until he
had obtained the permission of the empress Elizabeth. She could, for
once, well afford to be generous; and Duke Charles was suffered to take
possession of the dignity. And, while on this subject, we may so far
anticipate events as to add that Peter III, successor of Elizabeth,
refused to admit the rights of Charles, whom he expelled from the duchy;
and that Catherine II incorporated it with her dominions. That Elizabeth
herself had the ambitious views of her father, in reference not only to
Courland but to other provinces, is certain; and, as we have already
observed, one of her motives for engaging in the great European contest
was the prospect of ulterior advantages. The pretext of succouring an
ally was sufficient to justify, in the eyes of Europe, the march of her
armies. In this respect, her policy was macchiavellian enough. But to her
the war was an imprudent one; whatever her views, the time was not yet
arrived when they could be fully executed. Nor were the events always
honourable to the military glory of the empire. The reason is generally
and, perhaps, justly assigned to the partiality of the grand duke Peter,
the heir presumptive, for the Prussian monarch--a partiality so great
as to be inexplicable. The Russian generals, however anxious to win the
favour of their sovereign, still more the honours of successful warfare,
were yet loth to incur the dislike of Peter: hence the operations were
indecisive; and success, when gained, was not pursued.
_Antecedents of the Future Peter III_
Charles Peter Ulrich, duke of Holstein Gottorp, whom Elizabeth had
nominated her successor, who had embraced the Greek religion, and who,
at his baptism, had received the name of Peter Fedorovitch, had arrived
at St. Petersburg immediately after her accession. He was then in his
fourteenth year. The education of this unfortunate prince was neglected;
and the cause must be attributed alike to his own aversion to study and
to the indifference of the empress. Military exercises were the only
occupation for which he had any relish, and in them he was indulged.
At the palace of Oranienbaum, with which his aunt had presented him,
he passed the months of his absence from court--a period of freedom
for which he always sighed. As his recollections were German, so also
were his affections. He had little respect for those over whom he was
one day to reign: instead of native, he surrounded himself with young
German officers. His addiction to such exercises became a passion, and
was doubtless one of the causes that so strongly indisposed him to more
serious and more important pursuits.
But it was not the only cause. In his native province he had probably
learned to admire another propensity, common enough in his time--that
of hard drinking; and it was not likely to be much impaired in such a
country as Russia. His potations, which were frequent and long, were
encouraged by his companions; and, in a few years, he became a complete
bacchanalian. If we add that both he and they indulged in gratifications
still more criminal--in licentious amours--we shall not hesitate to
believe the charge of profligacy with which he has been assailed. Whether
the empress was for some time privy to his excesses has been disputed;
but probability affirms that she was, and that, by conniving at these
ignoble pursuits, her policy was to keep him at a distance from the
affairs of state. In this base purpose she was, from motives sufficiently
obvious, zealously assisted by her ministers, especially by Bestuzhev.
Profligate as was the grand duke, he was displeased with this state of
restraint; and he sometimes complained of it with a bitterness that was
sure to be exaggerated by the spies whom they had placed near him.
_The Future Catherine II Appears_
The empress paid little attention to the reports concerning him.
Her purpose was to disqualify him for governing, to render him too
contemptible to be dreaded; nor was she much offended with his murmurs.
That purpose was gained; for Peter had the reputation of being at
once ignorant, vicious, and contemptible. In a country so fertile in
revolutions, where unprincipled adventurers were ever ready to encourage
the discontent of anyone likely to disturb the existing order of things,
this reputation was one of the surest safeguards of Elizabeth’s throne.
She no longer feared that he would be made the tool of the designing,
and she secretly exulted in the success of a policy which Macchiavelli
himself would have admired. Nor did she prove herself unworthy of that
great master in the refined hypocrisy which made her represent her
nephew as a prince of hopeful talents. But even she blushed at some of
his irregularities; and, in the view of justifying him, had furnished
him with a wife. Her choice was unfortunate; it was Sophia Augusta,
daughter of the prince of Anhalt-Zerbst, who, on her conversion to the
Greek faith--a necessary preliminary to her marriage--had received the
baptismal name of Catherine.
This union was entitled to the more attention as in its consequences it
powerfully affected not only the whole of Russia but the whole of Europe.
Shortly before its completion Peter was seized with the smallpox, which
left hideous traces on his countenance. The sight of him is said so far
to have so affected Catherine that she fainted away. But, though she was
only in her sixteenth year, ambition had already over her more influence
than the tender passion, and she smothered her repugnance. Unfortunately,
the personal qualities of the husband were not of a kind to remove the
ill impression; if he bore her any affection, which appears doubtful,
his manners were rude, even vulgar; and she blushed for him whenever
they met in general society. What was still worse, she soon learned to
despise his understanding; and it required little penetration to foresee
that, whatever might be his title after Elizabeth’s death, the power must
rest with Catherine. Hence the courtiers in general were more assiduous
in their attentions to her than to him--a circumstance which did not
much dispose him for the better. Finding no charms in his new domestic
circle, he naturally turned to his boon companions; his orgies became
frequent, and Catherine was completely neglected. Hence her indifference
was exchanged into absolute dislike.
The contrast between their characters exhibited itself in their conduct.
While he was thus earning contempt for himself, she was assiduously
strengthening her party. She had the advantage--we should rather say the
curse--of being directed by a wily mother, who had accompanied her into
Russia, and whose political intrigues were so notorious that at length
she was ordered by the empress to return into Germany. The grand duchess,
however, had been too well tutored to suffer much by her mother’s
departure; and she prosecuted her purpose with an ardour that would have
done honour to a better cause.
So long as the German princess remained at court, the conduct of
Catherine was outwardly decorous; but now less restraint was observable
in her behaviour. She was little deterred by the fear of worldly censure,
in a court where the empress herself was anything but a model of
chastity; and her marital fidelity soon came to be more than doubtful.
_Court Intrigues; the Death of Elizabeth (1762 A.D.)_
[Sidenote: [1762 A.D.]]
That, in concert with several Russian nobles, of whom Bestuzhev was
the chief, Catherine meditated the exclusion of her husband from the
throne and the elevation of herself as regent during the minority of her
son Paul, is a fact that can no longer be disputed. Hence the criminal
condescension of the chancellor to the views of Catherine; hence his
efforts to prevail on the empress to nominate the infant Paul as her
successor. The indiscretion of the grand duke, who was no favourite with
anybody; his frequent complaints of the tutelage in which he was held;
his bursts of indignation at his exclusion from the councils of the
empire--were carefully related to his aunt, with such exaggeration as
were most likely to destroy the last traces of the lingering regard she
bore him. All, indeed, who had been the friends of Catherine, all who had
shared in the confidence of the minister, might well contemplate with
alarm the succession of one that had vowed revenge against the partisans
of both. Besides, the contempt which Peter felt, and which he seldom
hesitated to express, for the Russian people, rendered his succession far
from agreeable to them.
Thus, when, in 1757, Apraxin, field marshal of the Russian forces,
invaded Prussia, took Memel, and, near Jägerndorf, obtained a brilliant
victory over the troops of Frederick, yet, as if defeated, instantly
fell back upon Courland, the cause was something more than the fear
of offending Peter. This retrograde movement surprising, as well it
might, both the empress and her people, Apraxin was placed under arrest,
and the command of the army bestowed on another general. He was tried
for the crime, but absolved--a result still more surprising to men
who regarded merely the surface of things. The reason was that the
grand-chancellor, Bestuzhev, had secretly ordered the marshal to retreat,
and was, of course, his protector in the trial. It was not to please the
heir-presumptive of the crown, whose blind adoration of the Prussian king
was so well known, that Bestuzhev despatched the secret order for Apraxin
to retreat: it was that the chiefs of the army, of whom many were his
creatures, might be ready to join in effecting the revolution which was
meditated. But the ambitious minister, presuming on the distaste which
his imperial mistress generally showed for affairs, and still more on
her bodily indisposition, which at this time placed her life in danger,
proceeded too rapidly. His intrigues were discovered; his letter to the
marshal was produced; he was deprived of all his power; and Peter had the
joy of seeing him exiled.
The general who succeeded Apraxin obtained advantages over the Russian
monarch, which had never been contemplated by his predecessor. But
though he took Königsberg, placed most of Prussia under contribution,
and defeated the Prussian army in a decisive engagement, he, too,
was unwilling to irritate beyond forgiveness the heir of the empire,
especially as the reports which daily reached him of Elizabeth’s health
convinced him that the succession was not far distant. Under the pretext
of illness, he demanded leave to retire. His successor, Soltikov (not,
we may be sure, the favourite of that name), was still more successful.
Frederick was defeated in one of the best contested battles of this
famous war; Berlin was taken, and Kolberg reduced after a vigorous
siege. The news of this last success reached the empress, but she was no
longer capable of deriving satisfaction from it. Much to her honour, she
withstood all the solicitations of the intriguers who wished to exclude
her nephew and to place Paul on the throne, under the regency of his
mother. She died on the 5th day of January, 1762.[b]
_Spread of Art, Literature, and Education under Elizabeth_
The empress Elizabeth had a passion for building; Peter the Great’s
summer palace and even the empress Anna’s winter palace appeared to her
small and confined. Upon the site of the latter she began to build the
present edifices; during her reign was also built the vast, elegant,
and beautiful palace at Tsarskoi Selo; the palace of Oranienbaum
was reconstructed, and the fine churches of the Smolni convent, of
Vladimirskaia and of Nicholas Morskoi (in St. Petersburg) were also
erected. Some handsome private houses were built by Elizabeth’s noblemen,
and in general St. Petersburg, which had not long before been a desert
place, consisting chiefly of wooden houses, became greatly embellished;
the palace quay, as may be seen from drawings and engravings of the time,
already showed a continuous row of huge stone edifices.
Of course all these buildings cost enormous sums which led private
persons into debt and the government into superfluous expenditure, but
it is impossible not to observe that there was to be seen in this luxury
an artistic quality which had never before existed. The finest edifices
of that period form a special style, which after temporary neglect is
now beginning to be imitated; the creator of this style in Russia was
Count Rastrelli--a foreigner, of whom, however, Russia has the right to
speak. The palaces and churches built by Rastrelli merit description, and
although painting at that time did not represent a very high standard,
yet the ceilings painted in accordance with the fashion of the day,
with bouquets of flowers and mythological goddesses, even now attract
the attention of artists. The grandees gave high prices for pictures by
foreign masters; their houses became distinguished not only for their
handsome façades but also for the comfort of their interior arrangements;
it would hardly be possible, for instance, to imagine anything more nobly
elegant than the house of the chancellor Vorontzov (now the _corps des
Pages_).
All these beautiful architectural productions, and likewise those of
music and painting, were for the greater part the work of foreign
artists--visitors to Russia; but under their influence Russian artists
were formed and taste developed. The church of Nicholas Morskoi was built
by a pupil of Rastrelli. The almost daily theatrical representations
produced at court gave rise to the idea of organising similar
representations at the _corps des Cadets_. The empress took a lively
interest in them; she often assisted at them and lent her diamonds for
the women’s costumes. In their turn these representations could not but
assist the development of a taste for the stage, for dramatic art and
literature in general and from amongst the number of cadet actors not a
few became well known writers, as for instance Beketov, Kheraskov, and
Sumarokov.
We must dwell for a few moments on Sumarokov--a man who in his time
enjoyed an extensive literary reputation and secured for himself the
appellation of Father of the Russian Stage. The love of literature, and
especially of the stage, was already developed in Sumarokov when he
was in the corps des Cadets; when he was afterwards made aide-de-camp
to Razumovski, he could almost daily assist at operas and ballets. At
that period he read with avidity the dramatic authors then in fashion:
Corneille, Racine, Voltaire, and Molière became his idols; he decided to
try to imitate them in his own native language then very undeveloped, and
in 1747 he wrote a tragedy, the _Chorists_.
It was not the merits of this work, which were very insignificant, but
the unwontedness of the appearance of an original Russian tragedy, and
besides that the fact of its being in verse, that so astounded and
enraptured his contemporaries that they proclaimed Sumarokov the “Russian
Racine”; encouraged by such a success he wrote a second and yet, a third
tragedy; he took up comedy (for which he had hardly any more vocation)
and in fact wrote a whole repertory; there were, however, no actors;
because neither in St. Petersburg nor in Moscow did there any longer
exist such company and such theatres as were begun in the time of Peter.
Meanwhile, far away from both capitals, in Iaroslav there was formed,
almost of itself without any commands or even any encouragement being
given, a Russian dramatic company which is indissolubly bound up with the
name of Volkov. Theodore Volkov was the son of a merchant and had been
educated in the Iaroslav seminary, where, following the example of the
Academy of Kiev, and others, representations of a spiritual or religious
character were given. They produced a great impression upon the young
merchant; when later on he managed to get to St. Petersburg and saw on
the stage of the corps des Cadets a dramatic representation given with
scenery, lighting, and mechanical contrivances, Volkov was stupefied with
rapture and astonishment. Being to the highest degree sensitive to every
artistic impression, being a painter, a musician, and a sculptor--all
self-taught--Volkov was also endued with that constancy and patience
without which even gifted natures do not attain to any results. Volkov
studied the material side of scenic art to the smallest details--that is,
the arrangement of the machinery, of the scenes, etc.; when he returned
to Iaroslav he asked his parents, with whom he lived, to let him have an
empty tanner’s shed; there he arranged a pit and a stage, and making up
a company of young merchants like himself, sons of citizens and clerks,
gave representations which aroused the enthusiasm of all the spectators.
The intelligent and practical Volkov, seeing how the population of
Iaroslav flocked to his representations, named a price for them--a five
kopeck piece for the first rows--and thus little by little he amassed a
sum with which in 1752 he was able to build a general public theatre with
room for one thousand spectators.
The taste for the stage had meanwhile greatly spread in St. Petersburg;
in various private houses dramatic representations were given at evening
parties; it was therefore not surprising that the Iaroslav theatre
soon began to be talked of. The empress invited Volkov to come to St.
Petersburg with his company, as she wished to see his representations
given on the stage of the court theatre. She was remarkably pleased
with them, and four years later issued an ukase for the establishment
of a public theatre. The first director of this theatre and almost
the only dramatic writer was Sumarokov; according to the testimony of
contemporaries Volkov was one of its most talented actors and his friend
and fellow worker Dmitrievski a great artist.
We must here speak of another still more remarkable Russian native
genius--Lomonosov. It is well known how, when he was a youth of sixteen,
devoured by a thirst for knowledge, he secretly left the paternal roof
and made his way on foot from Kholmogori to Moscow. How unattractive must
life and learning have appeared to him in those early days! “Having only
one altyn (a three-kopeck piece) a day for salary, it was impossible
for him to spend more on food than a halfpenny a day for bread and a
halfpenny worth of _kvass_ (a kind of beer or mead); the rest had to
go for paper, books, and other necessities.” Thus he described his
life in the Zaikonospaskvi Ecclesiastical Academy to Ivan Shuvalov and
concluded with the following words: “I lived thus for five years and
did not abandon science!” Theodore Prokopovitch, when he was already
an old man, visited the Moscow academy a few years before his death;
he noticed Lomonosov there and praised him for his laboriousness and
learning. In 1737 Lomonosov was sent abroad to perfect himself and
placed himself under the surveillance of the then famous scholar, Wolff,
who, while despising him for his disorderly life, spoke with respect of
his capacities and success in study. Lomonosov followed the lectures
of the German professors and amused himself with the German students.
The news of Minikh’s great victories and the taking of Khotin reached
him; his patriotic feelings were aroused, and he wrote an ode. When the
verses were received in St. Petersburg everyone was struck with their
harmony; and when Lomonosov returned from Germany in the beginning of
Elizabeth’s reign his reputation as a poet had already preceded him--the
more he wrote the greater his fame became. Poetry, however, was not
Lomonosov’s strongest point, and verses do not occupy a quarter of his
entire works. His mind worked even more than his imagination, and his
scholarly writings are striking in their variety. He composed a grammar
of the Russian language from which several generations have learned;
he laid down rules of versification, the foundation of which are even
now recognised by everyone; he wrote on chemistry, physics, astronomy,
metallurgy, geology; he composed a Russian history, wrote a hypothesis
concerning the great learned expeditions and memoranda bearing on
questions of the state (as for instance measures for increasing and
maintaining the population in Russia): in fact, Lomonosov’s extraordinary
intellect seemed to touch upon every branch of mental activity. He was
made a member of the St. Petersburg Academy of Sciences, but there the
German element reigned supreme and Lomonosov was one of those who,
while venerating the work of Peter the Great and the European learning
introduced by him, yet was oppressed by foreign tutorage and took offence
when the Germans put forward their own countrymen to the detriment of
meritorious Russians. Continual disputes and quarrels arose between
Lomonosov and his fellow members; nor, being of a very impetuous and
obstinate nature, was Lomonosov always in the right. His rough and sharp
measures frequently led him into quarrels even outside the academy, for
instance with his literary brethren, Frediakovski and Sumarokov. All
this might greatly have injured Lomonosov, but fortunately for him he
possessed powerful protectors in the persons of Count Worontzov and Count
Razumovski, who liked to show favour to the first Russian scholar and
poet.
But the strongest, truest, and most constant of his protectors was Ivan
Shuvalov. Shuvalov had many defects--his character was weak, lazy, and
careless; but he nevertheless represented one of the most consolatory
types of his epoch: strong, energetic types were not uncommon in the
first half of the eighteenth century, but gentle, benevolent, indulgent
natures were rarely to be met with. Shuvalov was not captivated by
clamorous deeds, like the men of Peter’s time, but by the peaceful
progress of science and art. Therefore if the weakness of his character
made him an instrument for the ambitious designs of his cousin, his
heartfelt sympathies drew him towards Lomonosov, of whom he naturally
learned much and--what is of more importance--with whom he devised means
for the spread of education in Russia. The result of these deliberations
was a vast plan for the establishment of schools throughout the
governments, and finally of a university in Moscow. The establishment
of a university seemed of the first necessity, as it was to furnish
Russia with teachers; this had been Peter’s intention with regard to the
academy: but it had not been fulfilled. In his report to the senate upon
this subject, Shuvalov wrote that it would be desirable to appoint a
“sufficient number of worthy men of the Russian nationality, acquainted
with the sciences, to spread education in distant parts among the common
people, so that thus superstition, dissent, and other like heresies
proceeding from ignorance might be destroyed.” The senate approved
Shuvalov’s proposition and in 1755 the University of Moscow was founded.
We have given as just and complete a picture of the period of the
empress Elizabeth as is possible in view of the scarcity of information
obtainable concerning many circumstances of that time. Elizabeth left
behind her if not a great memory yet, broadly speaking, a good one. Her
administration may be reproached with much: in its foreign policy it
was not sufficiently independent; it was not sufficiently watchful in
interior affairs, where oversights occasioned special evils; moreover
examples of unlawful enrichment attained huge dimensions. But her reign
may be said to have led Russia out of bondage to the Germans, while the
level of education was not in the smallest degree lowered, but on the
contrary considerably raised. Much that brought forth such brilliant
fruits under Catherine II was sown under Elizabeth.[d]
_Bain’s Estimate of Elizabeth_
It is the peculiar glory of Elizabeth Petrovna that she consulted once
for all the life work of her illustrious father. During the first
fifteen years after the death of the great political regenerator, his
stupendous creation, Russia, (before him we only hear of Muscovy,) was
frequently in danger. The reactionary boyars who misruled the infant
empire under Peter II would have sacrificed both the new capital and the
new fleet, the twin pivots upon which the glory and the prosperity of the
new state may be said to have turned; the German domination under the
empress Anna, directly contrary as it was to the golden rule of Peter,
“Russia for the Russians,” threatened the nation with a western yoke
far more galling than the eastern or Tatar yoke of ruder times. From
this reaction, from this yoke the daughter of Peter the Great set the
nation free, and beneath her beneficent sceptre Russia may be said to
have possessed itself again. All the highest offices of state were once
more entrusted to natives and to natives only, and whenever a foreigner
was proposed for the next highest, Elizabeth, before confirming the
appointment, invariably inquired: “Is there then no capable Russian who
would do as well?” Moreover she inherited from her father the sovereign
gift of choosing and using able councillors, and not only did she summon
to power a new generation of native statesmen and administrators, but
she constrained them to work harmoniously together despite their mutual
jealousies and conflicting ambitions. She herself had advantageously
passed through the bitter but salutary school of adversity. With all
manner of dangers haunting her path from her youth upwards, she had
learnt the necessity of circumspection, deliberation, self-control;
she had acquired the precious faculty of living in the midst of people
intent on jostling each other, without in any way jostling them; and
these great qualities she brought with her to the throne without losing
anything of that infinite good-nature, that radiant affability, that
patriarchal simplicity which so endeared her to her subjects and made
her, deservedly, the most popular of all the Russian monarchs. As regards
her foreign policy, it may be safely affirmed she laid down the deep and
durable foundations upon which Catherine II was to build magnificently
indeed, but too often, alas! so flimsily. The diplomacy of Elizabeth,
on the whole, was not so confident or so daring as the diplomacy of her
brilliant successor; but, on the other hand, it was more correct, equally
dignified and left far less to chance. It must also be borne in mind that
the energy and firmness of Elizabeth considerably facilitated the task
of Catherine by rendering Prussia, Russia’s most dangerous neighbour,
practically harmless to her for the remainder of the century. This of
itself was a political legacy of inestimable value, and it was not the
only one. All the great captains, all the great diplomatists of the “ever
victorious Catherine,” men like Rumiantsev, Suvarov, Riepnin, Besborodko,
the Panins and the Galitzins, were brought up in the school of Elizabeth.
Excellent was the use which the adroit and audacious Catherine made of
these instruments of government, these pioneers of empire, but it should
never be forgotten that she received them all from the hands of the
daughter of Peter the Great.[g]
PETER III (1762 A.D.)
As Elizabeth, on her death-bed, had confirmed the rights of Peter
III; and as the conspirators, deprived of Bestuzhev their guide, were
unable to act with energy, the new emperor encountered no opposition.
On the contrary, he was immediately recognised by the military; and the
archbishop of Novgorod, in the sermon preached on the occasion, thanked
heaven that a prince so likely to imitate his illustrious grandfather was
vouchsafed to Russia. Catherine was present. She wore a peculiar dress to
conceal her pregnancy, and her countenance exhibited some indication of
the anxious feeling which she was obliged to repress. Compelled to defer
the execution of her ambitious purposes, and uncertain what vengeance
the czar might exert for her numerous infidelities, she might well be
apprehensive.
But she had no real foundation for the fear. Of all the sovereigns of
that or any age, Peter was among the most clement. Whether he thought
that clemency might bind to his interests one whose talents he had
learned to respect, or that her adherents were too numerous and powerful
to allow of her being punished--whether, in short, he had some return of
affection for her, or his own conscience told him that she had nearly as
much to forgive as he could have, we will not decide. One thing only is
certain--that, in about three months after his accession, he invested
her with the domains held by the late empress. Certainly his was a mind
incapable of long continued resentment. His heart was better than his
head. Resolved to signalise his elevation by making others happy, he
recalled all whom his predecessor had exiled, except Bestuzhev. Many he
restored to their former honours and possessions. Thus the aged Munich
was made governor-general of Siberia, restored to his military command;
while Biron, who certainly deserved no favour, was reinvested with the
duchy of Courland. He did more: he restored the prisoners made by the
generals of Elizabeth, and gave them money to defray their passage home.
And, as Frederick had always been the object of his idolatry, the world
expected the armistice which he published, and which was preparatory to a
peace between the two countries.
That declaration was an extraordinary document. In it the emperor
declares that, his first duty being the welfare of his people, that
welfare could not be consulted so long as hostilities were continued;
that the war, which had raged six years, had produced no advantage to
either party, but done incredible harm to both; that he would no longer
sanction the wanton destruction of his species; that, in conformity
with the divine injunction relative to the preservation of the people
committed to his charge, he would put an end to the unnatural, impious
strife; and that he was resolved to restore the conquests made by his
troops. In this case he had been praised, and with great justice, for
his moderation. We fear, however, he does not merit so high a degree of
praise of humanity as many writers have asserted. At this moment, while
proclaiming so loudly his repugnance to war, he was sending troops into
his native principality of Holstein, with the intention of wresting from
the king of Denmark the duchy of Schleswig, which he considered the
rightful inheritance of his family. He even declared that he would never
rest until he had sent that prince to Malabar.
[Illustration: PETER III
(1728-1762)]
Nor must we omit to add that from the enemy he became the ally of
Frederick; that his troops joined with the Prussians to expel the
Austrians from the kingdom. His humanity only changed sides; if it spared
the blood of Prussians, it had little respect for that of Austrians. We
may add, too, that there was something like madness in his enthusiastic
regard for Frederick. He corresponded with that monarch, whom he
proclaimed his master, whose uniform he wore, and in whose armies he
obtained the rank of major-general. Had he been capable of improvement,
his intercourse with that far-sighted prince might have benefited him.
Frederick advised him to celebrate at Moscow his coronation--a rite of
superstitious importance in the eyes of the multitude. He was advised,
too, not to engage in the Danish war, not to leave the empire. But advice
was lost on him.
In some other respects, Peter deserves more credit than the admirers
of Catherine are willing to allow him. (1) Not only did he pardon his
personal enemies--not only did the emperor forget the wrongs of the grand
duke--but on several he bestowed the most signal favours. He suppressed
that abominable inquisitorial court, the secret chancery, which had
consigned so many victims to everlasting bondage, which had received
delations from the most obscure and vicious of men, which had made every
respectable master of a family tremble lest his very domestics should
render him amenable to that terrible tribunal. Had this been the only
benefit of his reign, well would he have been entitled to the gratitude
of Russia. (2) He emancipated the nobles from the slavish dependence
on the crown, so characteristic of that barbarous people. Previous to
his reign, no boyar could enter on any profession, or forsake it when
once embraced, or retire from public to private life, or dispose of his
property, or travel into any foreign country, without the permission of
the czar. By breaking their chains at one blow, he began the career of
social emancipation. (3) The military discipline of the nation loudly
demanded reform, and he obeyed the call. He rescued the officers from the
degrading punishments previously inflicted; he introduced a better system
of tactics; and he gave more independence to the profession. He did not,
however, exempt the common soldier from the corporal punishment which
at any moment his superior officers might inflict. (4) He instituted a
useful court to take cognisance of all offences committed against the
public peace, and to chastise the delinquencies of the men entrusted
with the general police of the empire. (5) He encouraged commerce, by
lessening the duties on certain imports, and by abolishing them on
certain exports. (6) In all his measures, all his steps, he proved
himself the protector of the poor. In fact, one reason for the dislike
with which he was regarded by the nobles arose from the preference which
he always gave to the low over the high.
_Impolitic Acts of Peter III_
But if impartial history must thus eulogise many of this monarch’s
acts, the same authority must condemn more. He exhibited everywhere
great contempt for the people whom he was called to govern. He had no
indulgence for their prejudices, however indifferent, however inveterate.
Thus, in commanding that the secular clergy should no longer wear long
beards, and should wear the same garb as the clergy of other countries,
he offended his subjects to a degree almost inconceivable to us. In
ordering the images to be removed from the churches--he was still a
Lutheran, if anything--he did not lessen the odium which his other acts
had produced. The archbishop of Novgorod flatly refused to obey him, and
was in consequence exiled; but the murmurs of the populace compelled the
czar to recall him. Still more censurable were his efforts to render
the church wholly dependent on the state--to destroy everything like
independence in its ministers; to make religion a mere engine in the
hands of arbitrary power for the attainment of any object. His purpose,
in fact, was to seize all the demesnes of the church--its extensive
estates, its numerous serfs--and to pension the clergy like other
functionaries.
In the ukase published on this occasion, he expressed a desire to
relieve ecclesiastics of the temporal cares so prejudicial to their
ghostly utility; to see that they indeed renounced the world, and free
from the burden of perishing treasures, applied their whole attention
to the welfare of souls. He therefore decreed that the property of the
church should in future be managed by imperial officers; and that the
clergy should receive, from the fund thus accumulated, certain annual
pensions, corresponding to their stations. Thus the archbishops of
Novgorod, Moscow, and St. Petersburg were to have each 2,500 rubles; and
the same sum was to be allowed for the support of their households, of
their capitular clergy, and for the sustentation of the sacred edifices.
But the twenty-three other archbishops and bishops were to have only
3,000 rubles for both purposes. The salaries of the other ecclesiastics
were carefully graduated. The inferior were divided into three
classes--individuals of the first to receive 500, of the second 300, of
the third 150 rubles per annum. The surplus funds were to be applied to
the foundation of hospitals, to the endowment of colleges, and to the
general purposes of the state.
Peter attempted these and other innovations in virtue of the two-fold
character which, from the time of his grandfather, the czars had been
anxious to assume, as supreme heads alike of religion and of the state.
Not even the grand lama of Thibet ever arrogated a higher degree of
theocratic authority. Indeed, our only surprise is that in addition to
their other functions they did not assume that of bishops; that they did
not array themselves in pontificals, and celebrate mass at the altar. But
they certainly laid something like a claim to the sacerdotal character.
Thus, on the death of the patriarch, Peter I opposed the election of
another supreme head of the church; and when he found that the synod
durst not venture on so far irritating the people as to dispense with
the dignity, he insisted on being elected himself. If the sultan of
Constantinople combined with himself the two-fold character, why should
it be refused to him? The reign of Peter was too short to permit his
designs of spoliation to be carried into effect; but, by confirming
the dangerous precedent of his grandfather, he had done enough, and
his successor Catherine was enabled to complete the robbery which he
commenced.
But the most impolitic measure of Peter--that which rendered those who
might have defended him indifferent to his fate--was his conduct towards
the imperial guards. Two regiments he ordered to be in readiness for
the Danish war. This was contrary to custom. In the faith of remaining
near the court, most of the soldiers had embraced the military life; and
they were as indignant as they were surprised when told that they must
exchange the dissipations of a metropolis for the fatigues and privations
attending a distant campaign. They were offended, too, with the
introduction of the Prussian discipline, which they found by experience
to be far more rigid than that to which they had hitherto been subject;
and they patriotically condemned the innovation as prejudicial to the
military fame of the empire. Still more irritating was the preference
which he everywhere gave to the German over the native troops. His most
intimate friends were Germans; the officers around his person were of the
same nation; Germans directed the manœuvres not only of his household
but of all his regiments; and a German--Prince George of Holstein, his
uncle--was placed at the head of all the imperial armies.
Couple these acts of imprudence with others of which he was hourly
guilty. In his palace of Oranienbaum he constructed a Lutheran chapel;
and though he appears to have been indifferent to every form of religion,
he held this in much more respect than the Greek form, which in fact,
he delighted to ridicule. If churchmen became his enemies, the people
in general were not likely to become his friends when they heard of a
boast--probably a true one--that in the last war he had acquainted the
Prussian monarch with the secrets of the imperial cabinet. Lastly, he
insulted men of honour by making them the jest of his buffoons.
Circumstances much less numerous and much less cogent than these would
have sufficed so ambitious, able, and unprincipled a woman as Catherine
to organise a powerful conspiracy against the czar. But he was accused
of many other things of which he was perfectly innocent. In fact, no
effort seems to have been spared to invent and propagate stories to his
disadvantage. In some instances, it is scarcely possible to separate
the true from the false. Whether, for example, he, from the day of his
accession, resolved to divorce his wife, to marry his mistress, to set
aside Paul from succession, and to adopt Ivan, still confined in the
fortress of Schlüsselburg, can never be known with certainty. That he
secretly visited that unhappy prince seems undoubted; but we have little
evidence for the existence of the design attributed to him. If, in fact,
he sincerely contemplated raising the daughter of Count Vorontzov to the
imperial throne, he would scarcely have adopted Ivan, unless he felt
assured that no issue would arise from the second marriage. He could
not, however, entertain any regard for a consort who had so grievously
injured him, and little for a boy whom he knew was not his own. And, as
there is generally some foundation for every report, there seems to be no
doubt that Peter had promised to marry his mistress if she survived his
wife. The report was enough for Catherine: on it she built her own story
that her life was in danger; and that if her son were not designed for a
similar fate, he would at least have that of Ivan.
_Catherine Plots against the Czar_
The anxiety of the empress to secure adherents was continually active;
and as her husband passed so much time in drunkenness, her motions were
not so closely scrutinised as they should have been. Gregory Orlov, her
criminal favourite, was the man in whom she placed the most reliance.
Gregory had four brothers--all men of enterprise, of courage, of
desperation; and none of them restricted by the least moral principle.
Potemkin, afterwards so celebrated, was the sixth. This man was, perhaps,
the most useful of the conspirators, as by means of his acquaintance
with the priests of the metropolis he was able to enlist that formidable
body in the cause. They were not slow to proclaim the impiety of the
czar, his contempt of the orthodox faith, his resolution “to banish
the fear of the Lord” from the Russian court, to convert churches into
hospitals and barracks, to seize on all revenues of the church, and
to end by compelling the most orthodox of countries to embrace the
errors of Luther. The archimandrites received these reports from the
parish priests, the bishops from the archimandrites; nor was there much
difficulty in obtaining an entrance for them into the recesses of the
neighbouring monasteries. The hetman of the Cossacks, an officer of
great authority and of great riches, was next gained. Not less effectual
than he was the princess Dashkov, who, though the sister of Peter’s
mistress, was the most ardent of the conspirators: perhaps the threatened
exaltation of that sister, by rendering her jealous, only strengthened
her attachment to the czarina. Through the instrumentality of this woman,
Count Panin, the foreign minister and the governor of the grand duke
Paul, was gained over. Whether the argument employed was, as one writer
asserts, the sacrifice of her sister, or whether, as another affirms, she
was the daughter of the count, who notoriously intrigued with her mother,
is of no moment. What is certain is, that the count was exceedingly fond
of her; and one authority expressly asserts that he became acquainted
with the details of the conspiracy before her, and admitted her into the
plot. This, however, is less probable than the relation we have given;
for the princess had long been the friend of Catherine.
Her activity was unceasing. A Piedmontese adventurer, Odart by name,
being forced to leave his native country for some crime, and having
tried in vain to obtain a subsistence in the neighbouring capitals,
wisely resolved to try his fortune in St. Petersburg--a city where guilt
might reside with impunity, and where it had only to be successful to
win the applause of mankind. As he had a considerable knowledge of the
fine arts, especially of music and painting, he had little difficulty in
obtaining an introduction to the princess Dashkov. She, who had a shrewd
insight into human character, soon perceived that this supple, crafty,
active, sober, intriguing, unprincipled foreigner was just the man that
was required to act as spy and confidential agent. He was introduced
to Catherine, whose opinion confirmed that of her favourite. No choice
could, indeed, have been better. Little cared he in what service he
was employed. If a partisan were to be gained, no man could be more
insinuating: if an enemy were to be removed, he had his pistols and his
dirk, without which he never appeared in the street. His penetration soon
enabled him to secure the aid of two other bravos--the one, Possik, a
lieutenant in the guards; the other, Globov, a lawyer in the employment
of the senate. Of the character of these men, some notion may be formed
from the fact that Possik offered to stab the emperor in the midst of the
court. He knew how to ally duplicity with desperation; he was at once the
hypocritical intriguer and the remorseless bravo.
Through the same Princess Dashkov, Volkonski, major-general of the
guards, was won; and by Potemkin, or his ghostly allies, the archbishop
of Novgorod was soon in the secret. The hetman of the Cossacks went
further. Great as was the danger of entrusting that secret to many,
he assembled the officers who served under him, assured them that he
had heard of a conspiracy to dethrone the emperor, too irresistible
to be appeased; and exhorted them to seize the favourable moment of
propitiating the favour of the czarina, rather than, by remaining hostile
or inactive, to bring down vengeance on their own heads. His advice had
all the success that he could desire.
While these most vicious and in every way most worthless of men were
thus employed in her behalf, Catherine was no less active. She knew that
Count Panin espoused the cause of her son--less, perhaps, from affection
to his charge, than from the hope of exercising more power under an
infant emperor than under one of the mother’s enterprising character.
Her promise, that his influence should be second only to her own, made
him her willing instrument. His defection constrained the rest of the
conspirators: there was no more heard of a regency; and Catherine was to
be proclaimed autocratrix of all the Russias.
Without increasing unnecessarily the number of the initiated, she yet
prepared the minds of many for some impending change, and rendered them
eager for its arrival by her artful and seasonable insinuations. If an
officer of the guards stood near her, she whispered in his ear that the
emperor had resolved on disbanding the present force, and exiling its
chiefs; if an ecclesiastic, she bewailed the fate of the pure orthodox
church; if a less interested person, she lamented her own misfortunes
and those of her son--both doomed to immediate imprisonment, and she, at
least, to an ultimate death. If a senator were near, she deplored the
meditated destruction of the venerable and patriotic body to which he
belonged; the transformation of the debauchees, perpetually around the
emperor, into judges; and the substitution of the _Code Frederic_ for the
ancient law of Russia.
By these means she prepared the minds of the people for the revolution:
her affability, in fact, was the theme of their praise. But she did not
trust merely to their good will. She knew that, unless two or three
regiments were secured, the insurrection might not find immediate
supporters, and that the critical moment might be lost. Without
money this object could not be obtained; and though both she and her
confidential agents voluntarily disbursed all that they could command,
and converted their most valuable effects into coin, the amount was
alarmingly inadequate. In this emergency she applied to the French
ambassador for a loan; and when he showed less readiness to accommodate
her than she expected, she addressed herself, we are told, to the
ambassador from England, and with more success. But this statement is
untrue: it was not the English ambassador, but an English merchant, who
furnished her with the sum she demanded. With this aid, she prevailed on
the greater part of three regiments to await the signal for joining her.
Though the conspirators were, in point of numbers, formidable, their
attempt was one of danger. Peter was about to leave Russia for Holstein,
to prosecute the war against the Danish king; and of the troops whom he
had assembled, though the greater part were on their march, some were
now with him, and might be induced to defend him. Besides, the two great
divisions of his fleet were at Kronstadt and Revel, and nobody could
foresee how they would act. The conspirators agreed that he should be
taken by surprise; that midnight should see him transferred from the
throne to a dungeon. The festival of St. Peter and St. Paul--one of high
importance in the Greek church--was approaching: the following day the
emperor had resolved to depart. It was to be celebrated at Peterhov;
there it was resolved to arrest him.
But accident hastened the execution of the plot. Until the arrival of
the festival, Peter left St. Petersburg for Oranienbaum, to pass in riot
and debauchery the intervening time. Accompanied by the most dissolute
of his favourites, and by many of the court ladies, he anticipated the
excesses which awaited his arrival. That he had received some hints of a
plot, though he was unacquainted alike with its object and authors, is
exceedingly probable. His royal ally of Prussia is said to have advised
him to be on his guard, and several notes are supposed to have been
addressed to him by his own subjects. If such information was received,
it made no impression on him; and indeed its vagueness might well render
him indifferent to it. But on the eve of his departure, when the superior
officer of Passik, who had accidentally learned that danger attended
the steps of the emperor, denounced the lieutenant, and the culprit was
arrested, he had an opportunity of ascertaining all the details of the
conspiracy. He treated the denunciation with contempt; affirmed that
Passik belonged to the dregs of the people, and was not to be dreaded;
and proceeded to Oranienbaum. The culprit, though narrowly watched, had
time to write a line to the hetman, whom he exhorted to instant action,
if they wished to save their lives. The note fell into the hands of the
princess Dashkov, who immediately assembled the conspirators.
Not a moment was to be lost: the presence of Catherine was indispensable;
and, though it was midnight and she was at Peterhov, seven leagues
distant from St. Petersburg, one of the Orlovs went to bring her.
He arrived at the fortress, entered a private door, and by a secret
staircase ascended to the apartments occupied by the empress. It was now
two o’clock in the morning: the empress was asleep; and her surprise was
not unmixed with terror, when she was awakened by a soldier. In a moment
she comprehended her situation: she arose, called one of her women, and
both, being hastily clad in a strange habit, descended with the soldier
to one of the gates, passed the sentinel without being recognised, and
stepped into the carriage which was waiting for her. Orlov was the
driver, and he urged the horses with so much severity that before they
had proceeded half way from Peterhov to St. Petersburg, they fell down
from exhaustion. The situation of the empress was critical: she might at
any moment be overtaken; and she was certain that with the dawn of day
Peter would acquire some more definite intelligence of the plot. In a
state bordering on distraction, she took refuge in the first house that
she approached: it was a tavern, and here she burned the letters which
had passed between her and the conspirators. Again she recommenced her
journey on foot: by good fortune she met a countryman with a cart; Orlov
seized the vehicle, the peasant ran away; Catherine ascended it, and, in
this undignified manner, she, her woman, and Orlov entered St. Petersburg
about seven o’clock on the morning of July the 9th.
_Catherine Usurps the Crown_
No sooner was Catherine in the capital than she was joined by the hetman;
and, accompanied by him, she hastened to the barracks of the troops which
he commanded. Four companies immediately declared for her; their example
constrained the rest of the regiment; three other regiments, hearing the
acclamation, and seeing the people hurry to the spot, joined in the cry;
all St. Petersburg was in motion; a report was spread that she and her
son had just escaped assassination by order of the czar; her adherents
rapidly multiplied: and, accompanied by about two thousand soldiers, with
five times that number of citizens, who loudly proclaimed her sovereign
of Russia, she went to the church of Our Lady of Kazan. Here everything
was prepared for her reception: the archbishop of Novgorod, with a host
of ecclesiastics, awaited her at the altar; she swore to observe the laws
and religion of the empire; the crown was solemnly placed on her head;
she was proclaimed sole monarch of Russia, and the grand duke Paul her
successor; and _Te Deum_ concluded the eventful ceremony.
From the church she proceeded to the palace occupied by the late empress;
the mob crowded to see her, and to take the oath of allegiance; while
the more respectable portion of the citizens were awed into submission,
or at least into silence, by a report that Peter had just been killed
by falling from his horse. To gratify the populace, the taverns were
abandoned to them: the same fate visited the houses of all who were
obnoxious to the conspirators; intoxication was general; robbery was
exercised with impunity; the palace, to which Catherine had hastened, was
strengthened; a numerous guard was stationed in its defence; a manifesto
was proclaimed; a notification was delivered into the hands of each
foreign minister, and the revolution was complete.
One object of the conspirators had been to close every avenue of egress
from the capital, that Peter might not be acquainted with the revolution
until it was too powerful to be repressed. All the troops in the vicinity
were called within the walls; but there was one regiment about sixteen
hundred strong, which lay between the city and Peterhov, the conduct of
which was doubtful. Without the slightest knowledge of what had taken
place, the colonel arrived in the city, and was soon persuaded not only
to declare for the new sovereign but to prevail on the regiment to follow
his example. He was successful; and, with the whole body, he returned in
triumph to the capital. On this very day Peter had promised to dine with
Catherine: on reaching Peterhov he was surprised to hear of her flight.
Vorontzov, the father of his mistress, the father also of the princess
Dashkov, who had witnessed without repugnance the dishonour alike of
his wife and daughter, proposed to the emperor to visit St. Petersburg
to ascertain the cause of her departure; and, if any insurrection were
meditated, to suppress it. He arrived in the presence of the empress, was
induced to swear allegiance to her, and was ordered to retire into his
own house.
But Peter had already been informed of the revolution; and he traversed
with hasty steps the gardens of Peterhov, indecisive and terrified. Yet
he was not wholly deserted. The brave Munich, whose locks were ripened
by age, and whose wisdom equalled his valour, advised him instantly
to place himself at the head of his Holstein troops, march on the
capital, and thereby enable all who were yet loyal to join him. Whether
the result would have been such as the veteran anticipated, _viz._ a
counter-revolution, may well be doubted; but there can be no doubt that
a considerable number of soldiers would have joined him, and that he
would have been able to enter into negotiations with the hostile party.
He was too timid to adopt the suggestion: nothing, in fact, could urge
him to decisive action. When informed that Catherine was making towards
Peterhov, at the head of ten thousand men, all that he could resolve to
do was to send messengers to her with proposals. His first was that the
supreme power should be divided between them; the second, when no reply
was deigned to his letter, that he should be allowed to leave Russia,
with his mistress and a favourite, and pass the rest of his days in
Holstein. She detained his messenger, and still advanced.
Munich now advised him to embark for Kronstadt, and join his fleet,
which was still faithful; but unfortunately he delayed so long that one
of Catherine’s emissaries had time to corrupt the garrison of the fort:
on arriving, he was prohibited from disembarking, and told that if he
did not immediately retire his vessel would be sunk by the cannon of the
place. Still he had a fleet at Revel; and if it were disloyal he might
escape into Prussia, Sweden, or Holstein. With the fatality, however,
which characterised all his measures on this eventful day, he returned
to Oranienbaum, where he disembarked at four o’clock in the morning of
July the 10th. Here he was soon visited by the emissaries of Catherine;
was persuaded to sign an act of abdication; was conducted to Peterhov;
was divested of all his imperial orders; was clad in a mean dress, and
consigned, first to one of the country houses of the hetman, and soon
afterwards to the fortress of Ropscha, about twenty miles distant from
Peterhov. He was not allowed to see the empress; and his mistress and
attendants were separated from him.[b]
_Death of Peter III (1762 A.D.)_
What was to be done with Peter? At the deliberations on this question
Catherine calmly listened to arguments as to the necessity of measures
being taken in order that the former emperor should not injure her rule
by disturbing weak minds; she clearly realised all the dangers that might
be created for her, if not by Peter himself at any rate by his partisans.
They were not numerous, yet they did exist and they might multiply in the
future. It was necessary that Peter should be definitively made harmless,
but how was it to be done? During the deliberations on the means to be
taken, no restraint was imposed by Catherine’s presence. The empress
was not an Elizabeth Petrovna: she at once understood the uselessness
of imprisonment at Schlüsselburg or any other place; she was not likely
to fall into a fainting fit at any proposition made. The examples of
Ivan the Terrible and Peter the Great did not disturb her. Nevertheless,
not one of those present, not even the persons nearest to her, reading
in her eyes the secret desire decisively to finish once for all with
this unbearable question, would have dared even to hint at an unnatural
death--they knew Catherine, they might read her thought, but not aloud.
When the persons who surrounded Catherine were definitively convinced
that Peter’s removal was recognised by her as indispensable, they decided
to devise a means for it without her knowledge and to accomplish it
without her consent. In this were interested all the personal partisans
of Catherine, those “chosen sons of the people,” who had stirred up the
empress to put herself at the head of the movement. They were far more
interested in the matter than Catherine herself: the change had been
brought about by all classes of society, by the whole nation, not by her;
no one could even think of the detested Peter ascending the throne a
second time--it was not on Catherine that the malcontents would revenge
themselves, that is if there were or would be any, but on the “chosen
of the people.” Peter did not prevent a change being brought about;
still, he might hinder not Catherine but many of the “chosen ones” from
reaping the fruits of their labours. The Orlov brothers were above all
interested in the matter; all of them, and especially Gregory, occupied
important posts, which gave them the right to dream of great things; the
realisation of these dreams could, it seemed to them, be prevented only
by Peter’s perpetual imprisonment. As long as Peter lived, Catherine
was not free: it was now observed by everyone that in the manifesto of
the 28th of June Peter was not once called the consort, the husband of
Catherine; but such bonds imposed by the church are not broken either by
manifestoes or imprisonment: Peter living, by the one fact of his being
alive, prevented the Orlovs from attaining the final results of their
efforts, their sacrifices. No matter by what means, somehow the Orlovs
must guard not merely what was as yet only possible and cherished in
their dreams, but the good fortune that had already been attained to;
and, for this, haste must be made. The favour shown to them, especially
to Gregory, was visible to every eye. At the court there were already
snares laid for them, intrigues began to be carried on against them,
endeavours were made to overthrow Gregory; if Gregory fell his brothers
would fall with him. Haste must be made.
On Wednesday, the 3rd of July, on the fourth day after the appearance of
the attacks of Peter’s illness, in the evening the doctor, Leyders, came
to Ropscha from St. Petersburg. On Thursday, the 4th of July, the former
emperor probably grew worse: at any rate a second doctor came that day
from St. Petersburg--the regimental surgeon Paulsen. The doctors did not
observe any change for the worse, and according to the expressions of the
language of contemporaries, the condition of the patient left nothing to
be desired. Friday passed quietly. On Saturday, the 6th of July, in the
morning while the prisoner was still asleep, the valet who attended on
Peter went out into the garden, “to breathe the fresh air.” An officer
who was in the garden ordered him to be seized and the valet was put into
a carriage which stood in readiness and removed from Ropscha. In the
evening, at six o’clock, a messenger who had ridden from Ropscha gave to
Catherine a packet from Alexis Orlov. On a sheet of soiled gray paper, in
the ignorant handwriting of Alexis Orlov and by his own drunken hand was
traced the following:
Merciful sovereign mother![52]
How can I explain, how describe what has happened; you will
not believe your faithful servant; but before God I speak the
truth. Matushka! I am ready to go to my death; but I myself
do not know, how this calamity happened. We are lost, if you
do not have mercy. Matushka, he is no more on earth. But no
one had thought of this, and how could we have thought to
raise our hands against the sovereign! But, your majesty, the
calamity is accomplished. At table he began to dispute with
Prince Theodore;[53] we were unable to separate them and he was
already no more; we do not ourselves remember what we did; but
we are all equally guilty and deserving of punishment. Have
mercy upon me, if it is only for my brother’s sake. I have
brought you my confession and seek for nothing. Forgive or
command that it may be quickly finished. The world is not kind;
we have angered you and destroyed our souls forever.
The news of death is a great matter. It is impossible either to prepare
for it or grow accustomed to it. In the present case the death of Peter,
doing away with many perplexities, and giving a free hand to many
persons, appeared as the only possible and most desirable issue to the
political drama which was agitating the people of Russia. Nevertheless
the news of this death struck some, disturbed others, and puzzled all as
an unexpected sudden phenomenon. On Catherine it produced the strongest
impression, and (justice must be rendered to her) she was the first to
control herself, to examine into the mass of new conditions, created by
the death of Peter, and to master the various feelings which made their
invasion together with the news of the catastrophe of Ropscha.
“_Que je suis affectée: même terrassée par cette mort_” (How affected
and even overwhelmed I am by this death), said Catherine to Princess
Dashkov. She was touched by it as a woman; she was struck by it as
empress. Catherine clearly recognised her position: the death of Peter,
a death that was so sudden, would at such a time awaken rumours, throw a
shadow on her intentions, lay a spot on the memory of those until then
clear, bright ten days; yet she did not hide from herself that it was
only by death that the great undertaking “begun by us” could be entirely
consummated. The tragedy of Catherine’s position was still further
increased by the circumstance of Alexis Orlov’s having taken an active
part in the catastrophe of Ropscha: she was under great obligations to
the Orlovs as empress, while as a woman she was bound by the ties of
affection to Gregory Orlov; she loathed the crime, but she could not give
up the criminal. “One must be firm in one’s resolutions,” said Catherine,
“only weak-minded people are undecided.” Even she herself, she must
conceal the crime and protect the criminal, taking upon herself all the
moral responsibility and political burden of the catastrophe. Catherine
then for the first time showed a healthy political understanding of the
widest diapason and played the rôle she had taken upon herself with the
talent of a virtuoso.
The letter of Alexis Orlov, which entirely exculpated her from all
suspicion was hidden in a cupboard, where it lay for thirty-four years,
until the very death of the empress. With the exception of two or three
persons in the immediate entourage of Catherine, who were near her at the
moment when the letter was received besides Nikita Panin and the hetman
Razumovski, no one ever read it, no one knew of it while the empress
lived. Having decided upon the fate of the letter, she herself marked
out the programme of her actions clearly and shortly: “_Il faut marcher
droit; je ne dois pas être suspecte_.” (I must walk uprightly; I must not
be suspected.)
The programme was exactly fulfilled. The letter of Alexis Orlov did not
communicate the trifling details of the catastrophe, but the general
signification of the narrative did not leave any doubts as to its chief
features, and therefore Catherine considered it first of all necessary
to certify whether poison had been employed; the postmortem examination,
made by order of the empress, did not show the least trace of poison.
Neither the medical certificate as to the cause of death nor the act
of death has been preserved; we can only guess that these certificates
directed the composition of the following “mourning” manifesto:
On the seventh day after our acceptation of the throne of all
the Russias, we received the news that the former emperor
Peter III, by an attack of hemorrhage which was common and
previously frequent to him, had fallen into a most dangerous
condition. In order therefore not to neglect our Christian duty
and the sacred command, by which we are obliged to preserve the
life of our neighbour, we immediately ordered that everything
necessary should be sent to him in order to avert consequences
that might be dangerous to his health through this mischance,
and tend to assist to his speedy recovery. But to our extreme
grief and trouble of heart, we yesterday evening received news
that, by the will of God, he had departed this life. We have
therefore commanded that his body should be taken to the Nevski
monastery to be there interred; meanwhile we incite and exhort
all our true and faithful subjects by our imperial and maternal
word that, without evil remembrance of all that is past, they
should raise to God their heartfelt prayers that forgiveness
and salvation of his soul may be granted to the deceased;
this unexpected decree by God of his death we accept as a
manifestation of the divine providence through which God in
his inscrutable judgment lays the path, known to his holy will
alone, to our throne and to the entire fatherland. Given at St.
Petersburg on the 7th day of July, 1762.
CATHERINE.
The Russian made the sign of the cross as he read this manifesto. Yes,
the judgments of God are indeed inscrutable! The former emperor had
experienced in his last days so many sorrows, so many reverses--no wonder
his feeble, sickly nature, which had already suffered from attacks of
hemorrhage, would not withstand these shocks; in the matter of death
nobody is free: he had fallen ill and died. To the common people his
death appeared natural; even the upper classes, although they might
hear even if they did not know something, did not admit any thoughts of
Catherine’s having had any share in his death. The empress “must not be
suspected” and she remained unsuspected. On the night between Sunday,
the 7th of July, and Monday, the 8th, the body was brought straight
to St. Petersburg, directly to the present monastery of St. Alexander
Nevski to the same place where the body of the princess Anna of Brunswick
was exposed for reverence, and later on the body of the princess Anna
Petrovna, Catherine’s daughter.[e]
FOOTNOTES
[49] It is said that when the infant Ivan heard the shouts of the
soldiers in front of the palace, he endeavoured to imitate their
vociferations, when Elizabeth exclaimed, “Poor babe! thou knowest not
that thou art joining in the noise that is raised at thy undoing.”
[50] The mother died in childbed, 1746; the father survived until 1780.
[51] She is said to have been privately married to a singer; but this is
doubtful. What is certain is that her lovers were as numerous after as
before the alleged union.
[52] The exact expression in Russian is _Matushka_ (little mother), a
title of endearment given by the people to the sovereign.
[53] Prince Theodore Sergeivitch Bariatinski.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]