The history of Russia, after the death of Ivan the Terrible, is full of crimes and assassinations. Czars and heirs to the crown were ruthlessly murdered in order to make way for usurpers and pretenders, until these again fell victims to conspiracies. The most famous of these assassinations is that of Peter the Third, not only because it was carried out in the interest of his own wife, the Empress Catherine, but mainly perhaps because Russia, at that time,—1762—had already entered the list of great European powers. Peter the Third was the son of Charles Frederick, Duke of Holstein-Gottorp, and of the Grand-Duchess Anna of Russia, oldest daughter of Peter the Great. As such, young Peter had even a better right to the crown of Russia than the Empress Elizabeth, who was a younger daughter of Peter the Great; and it was Elizabeth herself who, in 1742, sent for Peter—then a boy at school in Germany—and declared him her heir and successor to the crown.
Peter was then only fifteen years of age. His education until then had been designed to fit him for the throne of Denmark and Sweden, upon which his father had a just claim; but preferring the prospect of sitting on the throne of the Czars, he went to St. Petersburg. The Empress spared no pains to educate her nephew for the high and difficult task which was in store for him as the future ruler of Russia. But it was in vain that she tried to make a Russian of him; he remained not only at heart, but also in his tastes, his manners, his conduct, his amusements and occupations a German; and what was worse, he liked to show publicly and privately how strongly attached he was to the land of his birth, and how profoundly he despised the people of Russia, over whom he was to rule. In a foreign-born crown-prince such a disposition would have been a serious political mistake under all circumstances, but it was especially so in this case, since Russia had been engaged, for years, in war with Frederick the Great of Prussia, and had made great sacrifices in men and treasures to conquer him and to cripple his growing power and influence in Europe.
Elizabeth hated Frederick the Great with the passion of a woman offended in her vanity. He had said of her: “She is as ugly as a cat and as treacherous; the very thought of her makes me sick.” The hatred of the Empress did not prevent the Crown Prince from openly expressing his unbounded admiration for the Prussian King. True, Peter was mentally too insignificant to comprehend the real greatness and genius of Frederick; but he admired the strict discipline, the rigid training, the incessant military exercises, the severe punishments for the slightest infraction of the rules and the least symptom of insubordination,—in short, all the outward and visible work in the preparation of a model army; and the Prussian army had become the model of Europe since the days of King Frederick William the First. He was anxious to introduce these Prussian features into the Russian army, expecting very likely that such externals would be the principal means of making an army invincible. That it took the genius and the untiring energy of a Frederick to bring about this invincibility he failed to see. When Peter had grown up to manhood his military zeal increased and became a perfect passion. But he felt no desire to join the Russian army in the field and earn military distinction and honors; no, he preferred to stay at home and act the drillmaster of a regiment of Holsteiners, which the Empress had organized for his especial pleasure, and to whose equipment, drill and exercises the young Grand Duke devoted most of his leisure hours. The men were uniformed and armed exactly like Prussian grenadiers, and all the officers belonged to prominent German families. The organization of this regiment made the Grand Duke very unpopular among the members of the Russian nobility, and they lost no opportunity in blackening his character and belittling his mental qualifications.
In 1745 Peter married the Princess of Anhalt-Zerbst, the daughter of a Prussian field-marshal. She was distinguished by great beauty and high mental attainments, and afterwards won world-wide renown under the name of Catherine the Second. She was originally named Sophia Augusta, but when the Empress Elizabeth selected her for the wife of her successor, she adopted the name of Catherine. Before his marriage, Peter had led a rather dissolute life, but for a couple of years after the wedding the young couple seemed to be quite happy. Peter himself was very good-looking and, although not a man of brilliant mind, was of average intelligence and culture. An attack of small-pox destroyed his good looks; and this circumstance combined with the volatile character of his wife caused an estrangement, which seemed to grow from year to year, and finally degenerated into absolute hatred. From that time on husband and wife, although not formally divorced or even separated, lived each a life of unrestrained vice.
No sooner had the courtiers noticed the growing coldness between them than they tried to ingratiate themselves with the young and beautiful but profligate Catherine, and some of them succeeded only too well. The first of her lovers was Count Soltikoff, one of the handsomest men of the Russian court, and first chamberlain of the Grand Duke. In his privileged position in the service of the Grand Duke he had so many opportunities of meeting the Grand Duchess, that soon the closest intimacy was established between them. But somehow or other a report of the liaison reached the ears of the Empress, and she sent Soltikoff on a diplomatic mission to Turkey in the hope of putting a stop to it. But the Grand Duchess easily consoled herself. No sooner had Soltikoff left the capital than Catherine formed a new liaison. Her next lover was the beautiful and chivalrous Prince Poniatowski, of the renowned Polish family; the scandal became so notorious and excited so much envy and jealousy among the Russian courtiers that it reached the ears of the Grand Duke, who applied to the Empress and demanded that his wife be punished for her shameful conduct. The Empress, who was guilty herself of many scandalous love affairs, did not reprimand the Grand Duchess, but sent Poniatowski back to Poland. A short time afterwards he returned, however, having been appointed Polish Ambassador at the court of St. Petersburg. The Grand Duke was indignant at his unlooked-for return, and having one day surprised him in a very intimate tête-à-tête with Catherine, upbraided him and her in the presence of the whole court, threatening at the time to drive him like a dog from the palace, and to imprison her in a convent. At the same time the Grand Duke himself was very far from leading an exemplary life. He had picked out among the ladies of the court a young and beautiful girl, Countess Woronzow, and made her his mistress.
The time came when the Empress Elizabeth was on her deathbed. She made then a last attempt to reconcile the Grand Duke and the Grand Duchess, in order to secure peace for Russia; but the estrangement and repugnance which they felt for each other was so great that this attempt failed utterly. In fact, the chasm widened immensely after the death of Elizabeth, and neither the husband nor the wife took care to conceal it. Moreover, immediately after Peter’s accession to the throne, a radical change occurred in the policy of the government,—a change that was warmly approved by some, but most bitterly opposed by others. Two great political parties were formed, and although the opponents of the government were compelled to practise their agitation in secret, they nevertheless counted a number of the most influential men among their leaders. The new Emperor broke loose entirely from the traditional policy of Russia; he not only withdrew from the Franco-Austrian alliance, but he sent orders to the Russian generals in the field against Frederick the Great of Prussia to coöperate with him. Peter himself donned the uniform of a Prussian general, which grade Frederick the Great had conferred upon him at his special request; all exercises and manœuvres of the Russian army were, by direction of the Czar, fashioned after those of the Prussian army, and Russian traditions and customs were disregarded.
The indignation and discontent among the high nobility of Russia at these “reforms”—which they ridiculed and despised—knew no bounds. In these sentiments they were encouraged by the Czar’s wife, who both from personal hostility and from the intuition of her far-sighted political genius, opposed them as anti-Russian and as the manifestations of a Teuto-maniac unfit to rule over the great Russian nation. Her husband became more and more aggressive in his threats. He spoke openly, among his intimates, of his intention to imprison Catherine in a convent and to marry his mistress, Elizabeth Woronzow, and branded the son whom Catherine had borne to him, as a bastard, who would be excluded from the succession. It was therefore in self-defence that Catherine surrounded herself with men of power and influence. She entered into close relations with high officers of the Russian army, who still adhered with loyal devotion to the traditions of Peter the Great and Elizabeth; and although far from being pious and religious herself, she surrounded herself with the high dignitaries of the Russian Church, whom Peter insulted by neglect. Catherine, on the other hand, manifested a great interest in religious ceremonies and a strict observance of the Greek Church service; and at all times prominent clergymen were guests at Peterhof, her residence.
Peter the Third wished to realize on the throne of Russia the ideal of enlightened despotism, of which his idol, King Frederick the Second of Prussia, was so illustrious a model. One of his first acts was to recall the political exiles from Siberia—among them the two fieldmarshals Münnich and Biron, who had been exiled by Elizabeth. It is assuredly one of the most lamentable spectacles to behold on the throne of a great Empire an ignorant, narrow-minded, whimsical, and fanatical ruler, introducing, under the name of “reforms,” vital and extraordinary changes in the administration and government, utterly unsuited to the character and culture of his nation. Even with the best intentions he will fail and pass for a fool.
Many of Peter’s measures were humane and just, and might have been considered judicious if he had not, by the manner in which he introduced them, provoked a resistance which proved fatal to them. He had no knowledge of Russian character, and looked down upon public sentiment. Even as Czar he gave public expression of his contempt for Russia, and placed it in every respect below Germany. With incredible self-sufficiency he disregarded all counsels to be more prudent in his public utterances and to proceed more slowly in his efforts to Prussianize Russia’s methods of administration and her system of civil and criminal jurisprudence. He abolished time-honored institutions; he attacked the privileges of the Church and the clergy; he ordered the churches and chapels to be deprived of their wealth and golden ornaments and images; he confiscated real estate belonging to the government, but occupied and taken possession of by the clergy; he reduced the exorbitant salaries of great noblemen in the provinces. By such acts he engendered protests, dissatisfaction, and threats in the very classes upon which the throne has to lean in despotic countries. To cap the climax, he dismissed the Russian body-guards and surrounded himself exclusively with German troops. The Duke of Holstein-Gottorp, his own cousin, was placed in command of these German regiments, under whose protection the Emperor considered himself absolutely safe. The King of Prussia, who was well informed on all matters going on at the Russian court, and who more than anybody else in Europe had an interest at stake to prolong the reign of his admirer, warned him again and again against the intrigues of his wife and the “old-Russian party,” but Peter was blinded by his prejudices and paid no attention to the warnings. He underrated his wife’s talent for political combinations and intrigue, and was far from suspecting that from the very first day of his reign his fate was sealed and his days numbered.
A great historian has called Catherine of Russia “the Messalina-Richelieu” of history, indicating by that combination that she was a monster of voluptuousness, insatiable in lust, and a prodigy of statecraft and political shrewdness. The name is wonderfully appropriate, for hardly ever has any female ruler, with the exception of the infamous Roman Empress, so shamelessly prostituted herself as Catherine the Second of Russia, and never has any woman, not even Elizabeth of England, possessed political genius to a higher degree. It was Peter the Great who introduced Russia into the list of European states, but it was Catherine the Second whose genius breathed into the gigantic empire its policy of grasping and ambitious expansion, which has placed her standards as tutelary guards already over the northern half of Asia, and which is yet far from being satisfied.