Catherine's decree appointing the Archbishop proclaimed the dubiously Greek origins of Russian Orthodoxy, a piece probably written by Potemkin. One of his first acts on becoming favourite was to found a Greek gymnasium. He now appointed Voulgaris to direct it. Potemkin tried to get his Greek Archbishop to be his 'Hesiod, Strabo Chrysostomos' and write a history of the region, 'dig up the hidden past...' and show the link between the Ancient Scythians and the Graeco-Slavs. Voulgaris never wrote the history, but he did translate Virgil's Georgics and dedicated the work to Potemkin, 'most high and eminent philhellenic prince', along with an ode to his new Athens on the Dnieper that ended: 'Here once again is to be seen the former Greece; Thou, famous Prince, be indeed victorious.'10 All this was just part of Potemkin's philhellenic programme to form a Greek civilization in a new Byzantine Empire around the Black Sea.
The genesis of the Greek Project is a window into the way the Empress and the Prince worked together. Catherine's rising secretary Alexander Bezborodko actually drafted the 'Note on Political Affairs' in 1780 that laid out the Project and it has been claimed that he conceived the idea. This is to misunderstand the relationship of the troika that henceforth made Russian foreign policy.
Potemkin conceived the Greek Project almost before Bezborodko arrived in Petersburg, as shown in his letters and conversation, his patronage of Voulgaris, the naming of Constantine and the foundation of Kherson in 1778. Bezborodko's 'Note' was a feasibility study of the idea, based on an explanation of Byzantine-Ottoman-Russian relations since the mid-tenth century, clearly commissioned by Catherine and Potemkin. Bezborodko's draft of the Austrian treaty of 1781 reveals how they worked: the secretary drafted on the right hand side of the page. Then Potemkin corrected it on the left in pencil, which he addressed to Catherine. From now on, Potemkin conceived the ideas and Bezborodko drafted them. Thus, on the Prince's death, Bezborodko was speaking the literal truth when he said that Potemkin was good at 'thinking up ideas when someone else had actually to do them'.11
Bezborodko was an 'awkward, clownish and negligent' Ukrainian hobbledehoy with thick lips and popping eyes who blundered about, his stockings about his heels, with the gait of an elephant. However, as Segur realized, he 'concealed the most delicate mind in the most oafish envelope'. He was said to relish regular orgies in the Petersburg brothel district. Indeed he often disappeared for thirty-six hours at a time. Italian opera-singers imported young Italian girls for his seraglio; he paid a soprano, Davia, 8,000 roubles a month which she repaid by cuckolding him with anyone she could find. 'Though richly dressed, he always appeared as if he had pulled on his clothes at the end of an orgy,' which he probably had.
Once he arrived home drunk to find an urgent summons from the Empress. At the Palace, Catherine demanded a document she had been promised. The factotum took out a piece of paper and read out the exquisitely drafted ukase. Catherine thanked him and asked him for the manuscript. He handed her the blank piece of paper and fell to his knees. Bezborodko had forgotten to write it, but she forgave him for his improvisation. He was an independent and outstandingly precise and sensitive intelligence who began as Potemkin's protege and became his political ally, even though he was friends with enemies like the Vorontsovs. The gratitude in his letters for Potemkin's patronage showed that the Prince was always by far the senior partner.12 'He keeps treating me very well,' he wrote to a friend, 'and ... I deserve it because very often I spend as much time on his private affairs as I do on European ones.'13
Serenissimus worked with Catherine's ministers, such as Procurator- General Viazemsky and President of the College of Commerce Alexander Vorontsov (Simon's brother). Potemkin, famed for his subtle political intrigues, disdained conventional Court politics: he regarded the ministers, particularly Vorontsov, 'with the greatest contempt' and he told Harris that 'even if he could get rid of them, he did not see anybody better to put in their places'.14 Bezborodko was the only one he seemed to respect. Potemkin proudly told Catherine that he never tried to build a party in Petersburg. He regarded himself as a royal consort, not a jobbing politician or a mere favourite. The only other member of his party was Catherine.
The first step towards the Greek Project was a detente with Austria. Both sides had been moving in this direction for some time and making encouraging diplomatic signals. The Holy Roman Emperor and co-ruler of the Habsburg Monarchy, Joseph II, never gave up on the Bavarian scheme that had led to the Potato War. He realized he needed Potemkin and Catherine to win Bavaria, which would make his Habsburg lands more compact and coherent. To this end, Joseph had to coax Russia away from Panin's cherished alliance with Prussia. If, in the process, he could increase his realm at the expense of the Ottoman Empire, so much the better. All roads led to Petersburg.
Joseph and his mother Maria Theresa had for years regarded Catherine as a nymphomaniacal regicide whom they called 'The Catherinized Princess of Zerbst'. Now Joseph weighed up a Russian alliance over his mother's opposition. His instincts were backed by his Chancellor, Prince Wenzel von Kaunitz- Rietberg, who had engineered the Diplomatic Revolution of 1756 to ally
Austria with its old enemy France. Kaunitz was a vain, cold-hearted and libidinous neurotic who was so afraid of illness that he made Maria Theresa close her windows. His elaborate teeth-cleaning exercises at the end of each meal were the most disgusting feature of public life in Vienna. Kaunitz made sure that Austria's envoy in Petersburg, Cobenzl, took care 'to place relations with Monsieur de Potemkin on the footing of good friendship ... Tell me how you are getting on with him now.'15
On 22 January 1780, Joseph sent a message to Catherine, through her envoy in Vienna, Prince Dmitri Golitsyn, that he would like to meet her. The timing was ideal. She agreed on 4 February, informing only Potemkin, Bezborodko and a discontented Nikita Panin. It was set for 27 May in Mogilev in Belorussia.16
Empress and Prince keenly anticipated this meeting. Between February and April, they discussed it back and forth. The tension told on both of them. They calmed each other like a married couple and then exulted in their schemes like a pair of conspirators. Some time in April, Catherine's lover Lanskoy told her that the sensitive Potemkin's 'soul is full of anxieties'. Probably he was worrying about the array of intrigues against his southern plans, but she soothed him with her 'true friendship that you will always find in my heart ... and in the heart attached to mine, [that is, Lanskoy's], who loves and respects you as much as I do'. She ended tenderly: 'Our only sorrow concerns you, that you're anxious.' Potemkin snapped at poor little Lanskoy, who ran to Catherine. She was concerned that her favourite had irritated the Prince: 'Please let me know if Alexander Dmitrievich [Lanskoy] annoyed you somehow and if you are angry with him and why exactly.' There were even hints of the old days when they were lovers, though perhaps they were just discussing their plans: 'My dear friend, I've finished dinner and the door of the little staircase is open. If you want to talk to me, you may come.'
At the end of April, Serenissimus rode off to prepare the reception for the Tsarina and the Holy Roman Emperor - in Mogilev. It was his policy, and Catherine gave him the responsibility to set the scene. As soon as he departed, Catherine missed her consort. 'I'm without my friend, my Prince,' she wrote to him. Excited letters flew between them. On 9 May 1780, Catherine left Tsarskoe Selo with a suite that included the nieces Alexandra and Ekaterina Engelhardt, and Bezborodko. Nikita Panin was left behind. As the Emperor Joseph arrived in Mogilev to be greeted by Potemkin, Catherine was approaching on the road from Petersburg. She and her consort were still discussing the last-minute details of the meeting and missing each other. 'If you find a better way, please let me know,' she wrote about her schedule - then she signed off: 'Goodbye my friend, we are sick at heart without you. I'm dying to see you as soon as possible.'17