Johanna cut short her daughter’s fun and entertainment and, on Mardefeld’s advice, set off at the end of January to meet the court in Moscow. La Chetardie escorted them. Elizabeth had set a date to receive them at the Annenhof Palace, in the eastern sector of the second capital, on February 9 at 8:00pm. After keeping them waiting, she gave orders to open the doors to the audience hall and appeared at the threshold, while the two visitors sank into their deepest curtseys. She took in the future fiancee in a glance - a slender, pale young girl, in a pink and silver gown with a plain skirt - no pannier. The toilette was inadequate but the girl herself was darling. Standing next to this scrumptious young lady, Peter - who had come to take delivery of this princess that had been shipped to him - looked even uglier and more disagreeable than usual.
His provocations recently had reached a new height, as he had taken up with Brummer, the minister from Holstein, and a clique of schemers all of German extraction. Furthermore, instead of being pleased that Her Majesty had named him a colonel in the Preobrazhensky Regiment, he now had the gall to invite a regiment from Holstein to come and demonstrate what was meant by discipline and efficiency - two qualities that were, in his view,
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Terrible Tsarinas sorely lacking in the Russian military.
Elizabeth had long mourned her inability to produce an heir for Russia herself, but given all these annoyances from her Germanophile nephew she must have been glad, in the end, that he was in fact not her own son. This disastrous successor resembled her neither in mind nor spirit. She began to pity the poor girl she was about to throw at the feet of such an unworthy man. She would have to do whatever she could to help the new bride win over, and control, the stupid and fanatical young fellow who was destined to become emperor one day. If only Sophia could still rely on her mother to guide her and comfort her in her disappointment; but with all her airs, Johanna appeared to be as irksome as Sophia was pleasing, with her aura of sincerity, health and good cheer.
Some relationships can be sized up in a flash. Elizabeth sensed that the bond between Johanna and Sophia was more form than feeling, based on circumstance and need rather than on affection and sympathy. Maybe Elizabeth could take the girl in hand; maybe it would be a pleasure to do so. While she had not been able to do much to mold the Grand Duke, perhaps she could help Sophia to develop into a happy, clear-headed and independent woman - without impinging on the husband’s traditional authority.
As a start, she had Razumovsky bring her the insignia of the Order of St. Catherine, and had two ladies-in-waiting pin them to the bodice of Sophia’s dress. Razumovsky was aware of her feelings in regard to this unequal but so necessary match, which had no hope of providing its protagonists with the satisfaction Elizabeth had found in her de facto marriage.
In the days that followed, Elizabeth watched closely and had her ladies-in-waiting report as well on the conduct of the young
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An Autocrat at Work and Play couple. While Sophia seemed to be waiting for her suitor to undertake some sort of gallant initiative, the foolish grand duke talked about nothing but the fine qualities of the Prussian Army, on parade as well as in combat, while systematically denigrating everything about Russia, from its customs to its history to its religion. Was he simply trying to assert his independence? As though in compens ation, Sophia began to display the contrary view on every point, and seemed to find the history and the traditions of her new homeland more and more appealing.
Both Vasily Adadurov and Simon Todorsky, the tutors appointed by Her Majesty to instruct Sophia in the Russian language and religion, praised her diligence. Enjoying the intellectual effort, she would study the most difficult problems of vocabulary, grammar and theology until late at night. Then she caught cold, and took to bed with a fever. Terrified that they might fail in their objective, after coming so close, Johanna accused her of shirking her duties as a princess preparing herself for marriage; she told her to get up and get back to work.
The Francophile clique took this development as a positive sign. If the perspiring, shivering Sophia should fail to recover, a replacement bride would have to be found - and another candidate might be more inclined to favor an Anglo-Austrian alliance.
Elizabeth hotly declared that she would refuse any Saxon candidate, come what may.
The men of medicine recommended bleeding the patient;
Johanna was against it. Elizabeth, under pressure from her personal physician, Lestocq, cast the deciding vote and Sophia was bled 17 times in seven weeks. That was how they saved horses, and that is how they saved her. Back on her feet but still very weak, she went straight back into the fray.
She was to celebrate her 15th birthday on April 21, 1744, but she was so pale and thin that she was afraid she would make a
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Terrible Tsarinas poor impression on the public, and maybe even on her fiance.
Moved by an uncharacteristic solicitude, Elizabeth sent her some rouge and suggested she touch up her face in order to appear to better advantage. Impressed by Figchen’s courage, she found the charming girl (who was unrelated to her, but was so eager to become Russian) far more worthy than her pitiful nephew and adoptive son (who was adamant in remaining German).
Meanwhile, Johanna was busily engaging in high politics and covert diplomacy. She received visits from all the traditional enemies of Chancellor Alexis Bestuzhev, the inveterate Russophile. La Chetardie, Lestocq and Brummer held clandestine meetings in her apartments. Perhaps Sophia, under her mother’s direction, could influence Peter and maybe even the tsarina, who was visibly impressed with her, to get rid of Bestuzhev.
But Russia’s top diplomat was hardly sitting idly by while these conspiracies were being spun. His personal spies had succeeded in intercepting and deciphering encrypted correspondence from La Chetardie to various foreign ministries all over Europe.
With these incriminating documents in hand, he presented himself to Elizabeth to prove his case. He had a portfolio full of damning letters, which Elizabeth read with horror: “Recognition and attention from such a dissipated princess [the tsarina] mean nothing.” “Her vanity, lack of seriousness, bad conduct, weakness and obstinacy make any serious negotiation an impossibility.”
Elsewhere, La Chetardie criticized her excessive interest in clothing and frivolous pursuits, and stated that she was totally ignorant of the major issues of the day, which she found “annoying rather than interesting.” In support of these calumnies, La Chetardie cited the opinion of Johanna, whom he portrayed, furthermore, as a spy in league with Frederick II.
Elizabeth was shocked by these revelations; she no longer knew who were her friends - if, indeed, she had any. She had
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An Autocrat at Work and Play turned her back on Maria Theresa because of Ambassador Botta, who had called her a diplomatic crook; would she now have to part with Louis XV because of that scoundrel, La Chetardie? She ought to throw him out of the country forthwith. But wouldn’t that offend France, which had to be dealt with as a man more than as a nation?
Before making such an unequivocal gesture, Elizabeth had Johanna called in and, screaming with rage and indignation, showed her the letters. Sophia’s mother was directly incriminated. The young princess from Anhalt-Zerbst, stunned to see her dreams of grandeur flushed away so suddenly, expected to be chased out of Russia forthwith. However, she was granted an unexpected reprieve. Out of respect for her nephew’s innocent fiancee, Elizabeth consented to allow Johanna to stay on, at least until the wedding. This charity did not cost the tsarina anything, and she felt that it would turn to her own benefit in due course. She was sorry for the young lady, who seemed to have a most unnatural mother; and she hoped, by this demonstration of generosity of soul, to earn the girl’s gratitude and, perhaps, even her affection.