We have seen that the unfavourable circumstances in which Catherine found herself until the year 1762 exercised a baneful influence upon her character; whereas the power and preponderance which she later acquired had an ennobling effect upon her nature. Until then she had been necessarily obliged often to have resource to mean and trifling measures to better her position and to revenge herself on her opponents; when she was able to exert full power, to enjoy the advantages of her position, the respect of her contemporaries, the adoration of the persons that surrounded her, she no longer needed to employ those means which are generally made use of by the weak in their struggle against the strong. At the time when a sharp watch was kept over her, when she was not trusted by either Elizabeth or Peter, she understood how to dissemble, to play the hypocrite, to feign humility and modesty, whilst in her soul she was filled with arrogance and contempt for mankind. Now that she had surrounded herself entirely with persons devoted to her she could act openly and nobly. The grand duchess in her isolation had been remarkable for her coldness, her mistrust of mankind, her suspiciousness; the empress on the contrary gave full scope to the development of feelings of benevolence, condescension, indulgence, and sincere attention to the interests of the persons that surrounded her. It was not without reason that Peter and Elizabeth had mistrusted Catherine and been suspicious of her character; it was not without reason, either, that in after times many people highly esteemed Catherine’s kindheartedness.
The history of the court under Peter I, under the empress Anna, and under Elizabeth is full of examples of tyranny, cruelty, and arbitrariness; all Catherine’s contemporaries were astonished at the mildness of her behaviour to those around her and rejoiced at the absence of stiff formalities and hard measures in her intercourse with her subordinates. In spite of her quick temper and impulsiveness, Catherine had complete control over herself, and in her intercourse with her fellow creatures she was governed by principles of humanity. “I like to praise and reward loudly, to blame quietly,” she once justly remarked in conversation with Ségur; she sought to avoid occasions of offending anyone, and was particularly careful in her intercourse with servants; “I will live to make myself not feared,” she once said, observing that the stove-heater, who had deserved reproof for some neglect, avoided meeting her. Often when Catherine had given an order she would make excuses for the trouble and labour it occasioned. Krapovitski gives instances of such solicitude on her part; more than once the empress, when impatient or irritated, having expressed herself somewhat sharply, afterwards acknowledged her hastiness and endeavoured to repair her fault.
It is said that Catherine, who awoke early and usually rose at six in the morning, so valued the tranquillity of her servants that without requiring assistance she dressed herself, lit the fire, and without disturbing anyone sat down to her books and papers. Various anecdotes are to be found in the narratives of contemporaries testifying to her indulgence to her servants and her want of sufficient severity in her intercourse with them. When she was in a passion she turned up her sleeves, walked about the room, drank a glass of water, and deferred judgment. Her capacity for removing any misunderstanding that might have arisen between herself and others was particularly remarkable. In her letters to various great lords we meet with frequent exhortations not to give way to despair but to take courage, to believe in their own capacities, and to hope for success. In moments of danger she knew how to raise the spirits of those around her, inspiring them with firmness and courage.
The distinguishing features of Catherine’s character were gaiety, humour, and an inclination for fun and amusements. She once remarked: “As to the gaiety of character of Frederick the Great, it must be observed that it proceeded from his superiority: was there ever a great man who was not distinguished by his gaiety and who did not possess in himself an inexhaustible store of it.” She took the greatest pleasure in going to masquerades and, while preserving the strictest incognito, talking to various people; she herself related in detail how she had once gone to a masquerade in male attire and had made a declaration of love to a young girl who never suspected that it was the empress talking to her. It must not be regarded as a matter of chance or an act of complaisance that such a multitude of anecdotes testifying to the magnanimity of Catherine have been preserved; many contemporaries who do not unconditionally praise her maintain however that she was capable of listening to unpleasing truths, of recognising her faults and deficiencies, and of restraining her anger. Such assertions are to be met with in Razumovski, Derjavin, Mussin-Pushkin, and Teplov.
Of course traits are not wanting which show her obstinacy, self-will, and arrogance. Derjavin cites several circumstances to prove that in her actions Catherine was often governed by personal considerations and desires rather than the real good of the state and strict justice. It is also not without reason that she is reproached with the fact that, while protesting against the use of tortures and corporal punishment, she allowed full scope to the cruelties of Sheshkovski who frequently with his own hand tortured accused persons in the most atrocious manner; we cannot however determine how far the empress was cognisant of his barbarous treatment. Referring to some instances of arbitrariness and infringement of the law, Prince Sherbatov remarks that the empress held herself above the law and that she thus herself set a pernicious example to the great noblemen and dignitaries who imitated her in this respect.
As to Catherine’s piety, Frederick II plainly accused her of hypocrisy and bigotry. We bear in mind that it was not easy for her to adopt the orthodox faith, but that when she had adopted it she used outward piety as a means of strengthening her position in Russia. By strictly observing the rules of the church, and conscientiously fulfilling her religious duties, she endeavoured to produce a certain impression on her subjects. At the same time she remained true to the principles of toleration preached in the literature of enlightenment. When Voltaire reproached her, saying that she humiliated herself by kissing the priest’s hand, she justified herself by replying that it was only an outward observance which would little by little become obsolete. There is no doubt that Catherine’s piety did not spring from any deep feeling. In her letters to Grimm, sallies against Luther and the Lutherans are to be met with more than once; she despised Lutherans for their intolerance and several times praised the orthodox faith as the best in the world; she compared it to an oak tree with deep roots.
Side by side with such remarks we meet with bold sallies both from the lips and in the letters of the empress against excessive piety and fanaticism; such are certain caustic remarks referring to Maria Theresa and the queen of Portugal. In certain jeux d’esprit which she allowed herself in connection with questions of the church and religion in her letters to Grimm, the same rationalism is to be observed as that which distinguished the votaries of French literature of the time. Catherine praised the works of Nicholas Sebaldus Nothanker, especially, because hypocrisy was condemned in them. Deep religious and philosophical questions she did not like; her chief characteristic was a certain worldliness. Her point of view was optimistic and her principal rule of earthly wisdom, gaiety. She did not like to meditate on sad events, to give way to grief, to dwell upon gloomy subjects; and this partly explains her esteem for Voltaire, whom she called the “god of gaiety.” This playfulness and vivacity, this freshness and gaiety she preserved to the end of her life.[h]
FOOTNOTES
[54] The Swedes were not aware of the fortuitous advantage then offered them by a singular incident. Just before the Russian admiral received orders to weigh, the empress had given the command of a ship to the famous Paul Jones. As soon as the British officers in the Russian service heard of this appointment, they repaired in a body to the admiralty, and announced their determination to quit the squadron to which that pirate had been attached. By this act on their part seven or eight ships were left without officers, until the empress, smothering her resentment, withdrew Paul Jones from the squadron, under pretence of sending him to the Black Sea; but, fearing a repetition of so unpleasant a scene, she contrived to get rid of the daring adventurer altogether.