Somewhere in this perambulating horse-powered seat of government, the Prince decided that Lieutenant-Colonel Bentham was not to stay in Kherson. In July, Bentham arrived at his new posting - Krichev. Potemkin's sprawling estate 'on the borders of Poland' was another world, all of its own.14
Bentham was appointed the sole master of an estate that was 'larger than any county of England' and indeed than many German principalities: Krichev itself was, according to Bentham, over 100 square miles, but it was right next to another Potemkin estate, Dubrovna, which was even larger. At Krichev, there were five townships and 145 hamlets - 14,000 male serfs. Together, the population of these two territories was 'upwards of 40,000 male vassals', as Samuel put it, which meant that the whole number of inhabitants must have been at least double that.15
The Krichev-Dubrovna estates were not only big but also strategically vitaclass="underline" when Russia annexed these Polish territories in the First Partition of 1772, Catherine gained control of the upper reaches of two of Europe's greatest trading rivers: the right (north) bank of the Dvina that led to Riga on the Baltic and the left or east bank of the Dnieper, on which Potemkin was to build so many of his cities. When Catherine granted lands to Potemkin in 1776, he may have requested estates that happened to have access to both rivers and therefore were potential trading stations with both the Baltic and the Black Sea: ideal for making small ships, Potemkin's lands flanked the north bank of the Dnieper for an awesome fifty miles.
Potemkin was already the master of an industrial empire, best known for its factories making Russia's most beautiful mirrors, a sign of the boom in demand for looking-glasses that literally reflected the eighteenth century's new self-awareness.[49] And then there was Krichev.16 Bentham found a brandy distillery, factory, tannery, copperworks, textile mill with 172 looms making sailcloth, a rope walk with twenty wheels, supplying Kherson's shipyards, a complex of greenhouses, a pottery, a shipyard and yet another mirror-factory. Krichev was an extension of Kherson. The estate ... furnishes all the principal naval stores in the greatest abundance by a navigable river which ... renders the transport easy to the Black Sea.'17 The trade went in both directions: there was already a surplus of cordage and sailcloth that was traded on to Constantinople, while there was a booming import-export business to Riga. This was Potemkin's imperial arsenal, his manufacturing and trading headquarters, his inland shipyard and the chief supplier of his new cities and navy on the Black Sea.
Krichev was another world from the salons of Petersburg, yet alone the chambers of Lincoln's Inn, but it must have been even more of a shock to Bentham's recruits from England. Bentham moved into what was called 'Potemkin's house' but which was really just a 'tottering barn'.18 The enthusiastic and arrogant Englishman had landed at one of Europe's crossroads: not only did the riverways converge there, but the place was a cultural cauldron too. 'The situation is picturesque and pleasant, the people ... quiet and patient to the last degree ... industrious or idle and drunken.' There were forty poverty-stricken Polish noblemen who worked on the estate 'almost as slaves'. It teemed with different races and languages.
This was all most confusing and alarming to a newly arrived artisan from Newcastle, who had never travelled before. 'The heterogeneous mixture of people here is surprising,' Beaty, a Geordie heckler, confessed. There were Russians, Germans, Don Cossacks, Polish Jews - and the English. At first 'I thought it a collection of the strangest sounds that ever invaded my English ears.' The Jews, from whom 'we had to buy all the necessities of life', spoke German or Yiddish.19 Beaty could only muse that 'on a Market Day when I behold such an odd Medley of Faces and Dresses, I have more than once started and wondered what brought me amongst them'.20
Samuel's responsibilities over all these people were equally extensive: firstly he was now the 'Legislator, Judge, Jury and Sheriff of the local serfs. Then, 'I have the direction and putting in order of all the Prince's fabriks here.' The factories were lamentable.21 So Bentham offered to take them over. 'Extremely agreeable,' replied Potemkin from Tsarskoe Selo, professing himself 'charmed with your activity and the project of your obliging responsibility'.22
The Prince was always thinking of improving his cities and warships. Disproving his supposed allergy to detail or to seeing his projects through, he turned to the cordage factory: They tell me the cordage ... is scarcely fit for use.'23 He begged Bentham to improve it and sent him an expert from Kronstadt. When Samuel's friends Korsakov and the sailor Mordvinov, both senior officers of Potemkin's, visited on the way to Kherson, Bentham reported to Serenissimus that he was supplying them with whatever they needed for their shipbuilding.24 After almost two years, Samuel was doing so well with his mills that he suggested a deal to the Prince: he would actually take over the less successful factories for ten years while Potemkin kept the profitable ones. All the buildings and materials would be supplied along with 20,000 roubles (about £5,000) of capital, which he would gradually repay. In the deal signed in January 1786, Serenissimus asked for no income whatsoever during the ten years - he simply hoped to receive the factories back in a profitable state at the end. His real interest was not profit but imperial benefit.25
One of Bentham's suggestions was to import potatoes and plant them at Krichev: Potemkin approved. The first twelve acres were sown in 1787 and a 'much pleased' Prince kept growing them on his other estates afterwards. Some histories claim that Potemkin and Bentham brought potatoes to Russia. This is not true - Catherine arranged their import during the 1760s, but the Prince was the first to cultivate them and it was probably thanks to him that they became part of the staple Russian diet.26
Bentham's main task was to build ships for Potemkin - all sorts, any sort at all. T seem to be at liberty to build any kind of ship ... whether for War, Trade or Pleasure.' The Prince wanted gun frigates for the navy, a pleasure frigate for the Empress, barges for the Dnieper trade and ultimately luxury barges for the Empress's long-planned visit to the south. It was a tall if not towering order. There was a priceless moment of Potemkinish exasperation when Bentham tried to pin down the Prince about the ship design. Did Serenissimus want one mast, two masts, and how many guns? 'He told me by way of ending the dispute that there might be twenty masts and one Gun if I pleased. I am a little confused .. Л27 What inventor could want for a more indulgent, and maddening, master?
Soon Samuel realized he needed help. His ships required rowers, whether peasants or soldiers. This was no problem: the Prince delivered, as if by magic, a battalion of Musketeers. 'I give you the command,' wrote Serenissimus from Petersburg in September. Potemkin was always thinking about his beloved navy: 'My intention, sir, is that they shall be capable one day of serving at sea, therefore I exhort you ... to qualify them for it.'28 Bentham naturally had no idea how to command soldiers or speak Russian, so when a major asked for orders on parade, Samuel replied: 'Same as yesterday.' How was this manoeuvre to be conducted? 'As usual,' ordered Bentham.29 There were only 'two or three Sergeants' who could write, yet alone draw, plus the two leather-makers from Newcastle at Orsha, a young mathematician from Strasbourg, a Danish brass-founder and a Scottish watchmaker.30 Samuel bombarded the Prince with requests for artisans: 'I'm finding it very difficult to recruit people of talent,'31 he complained in one unpublished letter. The Prince replied that he could hire workmen on whatever terms he liked.