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.