Catherine the Great & Potemkin: The Imperial Love Affair

On Sunday, 22 September, in the Assumption Cathedral at the heart of the Kremlin, the Empress was crowned ‘the most serene and all-powerful Princess and lady Catherine the Second, Empress and Autocrat of all the Russias’ before fifty-five Orthodox dignitaries standing in a semi-circle. Like Elisabeth before her, she deliberately placed her own crown on the head to emphasize that her legitimacy derived from herself, then took the scepter in her right land and the orb in her left, and the congregation fell to its knees. The choir sang. Cannons fired. The Archbishop of Novgorod anointed her. She took communion.

Catherine returned to her place in a golden carriage, guarded by the unmounted Horse-Guards including Potemkin, while gold coins were tossed to the crowds. When she had passed, the people fell to their knees. Later, when it was time for the coronation honours to be announced, the new regime began to take shape: Grigory Orlov was named adjutant-general, and the five brothers, with Nikita Panin, were raised to counts of the Russian Empire. Second Lieutenant Potemkin, who was there on duty at the palace, once again appeared in these lists: he received a silver table set and another 400 souls in the Moscow region. On 30 November, he was appointed Kammerjunker, or gentleman of the bedchamber, with permission to remain in the Guards²⁰ while other new Kammerjunkers left the army and became courtiers.²¹

There was now a tiring week of balls, ceremonies and receptions, but the Grand Duke Paul’s fever worsened: if he died, there could be no worse omen for Catherine’s reign. Since Catherine had claimed power partly to protect Paul from Peter III, his death would also remove much of her justification for ruling. It was clear that his claim to the throne was superior to hers. One emperor had already suffered from murderous piles; the death of his son would taint Catherine, already a regicide, with more sacred royal blood. The crisis reached its height during the first two weeks of October with the Tsarevich in delirium, but afterwards he began to improve. This did not help the tense atmosphere. Catherine’s regime had survived to her coronation, but already there were plots and counter-plots. In the barracks, Guardsmen who had made one emperor now thought they could make others. At Court, the Orlovs wanted their Grigory to marry Catherine, while Panin and the magnates wished to curb imperial powers and govern in Paul’s name.

In the year or so since he had arrived at Horse-Guards from Moscow, Potemkin had advanced from an expelled student to serving the Empress as gentleman of the bedchamber, doubling his souls and being promoted two ranks. Now, back in Petersburg, the Orlovs told the Empress about the funniest man in the Guards, Lieutenant Potemkin, who was an outrageous mimic. Catherine, who knew the name and the face from the coup, replied that she would like to hear this wit. So the Orlovs summoned Potemkin to amuse the Empress. He must have thought his moment had come. The self-declared ‘spoilt child of fortune’, always swinging between despair and exultation, possessed an absolute belief in his own destiny, that he could achieve anything, beyond the limits of ordinary men. Now he had his chance.

Grigory Orlov recommended his imitation of one particular nobleman. Potemkin could render the man’s peculiar voice and mannerisms perfectly. Soon after the coronation, the Guardsman was formally presented for the first time and Catherine requested this particular act. Potemkin replied that he was quite unable to do any mimicry at all – but his voice was different and it sent a chill through the whole room. Everyone sat up straight or looked studiously at the floor. The voice was absolutely and unmistakably perfect. The accent was slightly German and the intonation was exquisitely accurate. Potemkin was imitating the Empress herself. The older courtiers must have presumed that this youngster’s career was to finish before it had started. The Orlovs must have waited nonchalantly to see how she would take this impertinence. Everyone concentrated on the boldly handsome, somewhat mannish face and high, clever forehead of their Tsarina. She started to laugh uproariously, so everyone else laughed too and agreed that Potemkin’s imitation was brilliant. Once again, his gamble had paid off.