Old Believers, who were persecuted for their heretical beliefs; to
create an Academy of Sciences according to the desires of Peter
the Great; to accelerate the beautification of the capital; to pursue
the construction of the Ladoga Canal; and to equip the expedition
of Danish navigator Vitus Behring, who was bound for Kam-
chatka. These wise resolutions mixed oddly in the tsarina’s tur-
bulent mind with her penchant for sex and alcohol. She was vora-
cious and well-disciplined by turn, hotly sensual and coldly lucid.
Hardly had she tasted the complementary joys of power and
pleasure when she again turned her attention to her paramount
concern: that of the family. Any mother, tsarina or not, considers
it her mission to see her daughters established as soon as they
reach the age of puberty. Catherine had given life to two pretty
daughters, who were clever-minded enough to be as pleasing in
their conversation as they were to look at. The elder, Anna Pet-
rovna, had recently been promised to the duke of Holstein-
Gottorp, Charles Frederick. Weak, nervous and ungainly, he had
little but his title to attract the girl. But reason can overrule feel-
ings when, beyond the union of the hearts, political alliances and
territorial annexations are foreseen. The marriage having been
delayed by Peter the Great’s death, Catherine planned to celebrate
it on May 21, 1725. Subservient to the maternal will, Anna sadly
resigned herself to what she must have seen as her only choice.
She was 17 years old. Charles Frederick was 25. The archbishop
Feofan Prokopovich, who just a few weeks before had celebrated
the funeral offices of Peter the Great in Old Slavonic, the language
of the Church, now blessed the union of the daughter of the de-
ceased with the son of Duke Frederick of Holstein and Hedwige
of Sweden, herself daughter of King Charles XI. As the fiancé
spoke neither Slavonic nor Russian, an interpreter translated the
key passages into Latin for him.
The party was entertained by the acrobatics and contor-
< 18 >
tions of a pair of dwarves, who spouted out of an enormous meat
pie while dessert was being brought in. The attendees choked
with laughter and burst into applause. The bride herself enjoyed
it. She did not suspect the bitter disappointment that awaited
her. Three day after the wedding ceremony, the Saxon diplomatic
representative let his king know that Charles Frederick had
stayed out all night three times in a row, leaving Anna fretting
alone in her bed. “The mother is in despair at her daughter’s sacri-
fice,” he wrote in his report. A little later he would add that the
scorned wife was comforting herself “by spending the night with
one and another.”2
While regretting her elder daughter’s poor luck, Catherine
refused to admit defeat and sought to interest her son-in-law in
public affairs — since he appeared so little interested in private
affairs. She guessed correctly: Charles Frederick was mad about
politics. Invited to participate in the meetings of the Supreme
Privy Council, he threw himself into the debates with so much
passion that Catherine was alarmed, finding that he sometimes
meddled in matters that were not his concern.
Dissatisfied with this first son-in-law, she thought to correct
her mistake by arranging a marriage that all of Europe would envy
for her second daughter, Elizabeth, who had been Peter the
Great’s preferred. Europe was known to her mostly through the
remarks of her late husband and, recently, through her diplomats’
reports. But, while Peter the Great had found the Germanic rigor,
discipline and efficiency attractive, Catherine found the charms
and the spirit of France increasingly appealing. She heard wonder-
ful tales from all who visited Paris — they claimed that the pomp
and ceremonies of the court at Versailles were incomparable in
their refinement. Some went as far as to say that the elegance and
intelligence that the French people prided themselves on added
luster to the enlightened authority of its government and the
< 19 >
power of its army.
The French ambassador, Jacques de Campredon, often spoke
to Catherine of the benefits that a rapprochement would repre-
sent between two countries that had every reason to support each
other. According to him, such an agreement would relieve the
empress of the underhanded interventions of England, which
never missed an opportunity to interfere in Russia’s disputes with
Turkey, Denmark, Sweden and Poland. For the four years that
this distinguished diplomat played his role in St. Petersburg, he
never stopped his sly preaching in favor of a Franco-Russian alli-
ance. From his first days at the court, he had alerted his minister,
Cardinal Dubois, that the tsar’s younger daughter, little Elizabeth
Petrovna (“very pleasant and good-looking”) would be an excel-
lent wife for a prince of the house of France. But, at the time, the
Regent favored the English and feared irritating them by express-