However, Peter had inherited his ancestors’ inability to tol-
erate any restraint, and he took every argument as an insult to his
dignity. He rebuffed his sister and his aunt. Natalya did not in-
sist; as for Elizabeth, she went over to the enemy. As a conse-
< 46 >
quence of spending so much time with her nephew’s friends, she
fell in love with the very same Alexander Buturlin that she had
intended to combat. Giving in to the unrestrained license of her
nephew, she readily joined him in every manifestation of frivolity.
Hunting and lovemaking became, for her as well as for him, the
two poles of their activity. And who better than Buturlin could
satisfy their common taste for the unpredictable and the provoca-
tive? Of course, the Supreme Privy Council and, through it, all the
court and all the embassies, were kept abreast of the tsar’s ex-
travagances. They began to think it was high time to give him the
crown and make him settle down. It was in this atmosphere of
libertinage and infighting that the political leaders of Russia pre-
pared the coronation ceremonies in Moscow.
On January 9, 1728, Peter set out at the head of a procession
as grand as one can imagine for such an exodus, with all of St. Pe-
tersburg in his wake. Through the cold and the snow, the nobility
and the high officials of the new capital slowly headed off for the
pomp and celebrations at the old Kremlin. But in Tver, halfway to
Moscow, the tsar was taken ill. It was feared that he might have
measles; the doctors recommended at least two weeks’ bed rest.
Only on February 4 did the young sovereign, finally recovered,
make his solemn entry into a Moscow bedecked in flags and bun-
ting, overflowing with cheers and thundering with cannon blasts
and the ringing of bells. His first stop, according to protocol, was
to pay a visit his grandmother, the empress Eudoxia. He felt no
emotion toward this old woman, tired and driveling, and he was
even irritated when she reproached him for his dissolute life and
recommended he marry as soon as possible a wise and wellborn
girl. Cutting short the interview, he curtly sent her back to her
prayers and her good works. This reaction did not surprise the
wife repudiated by Peter the Great. It was clear to her that the
teenager had inherited his grandfather’s independence of mind,
< 47 >
cynicism and cruelty. But his genius? She feared not!
It was the Dolgorukys who organized the ceremonies. The
date of February 24, 1728 was selected for the coronation of the
tsar, in the heart of the Kremlin, in the Cathedral of the Assump-
tion. Tucked away in a latticework booth at the back of the
church, the tsarina Eudoxia watched her grandson don the crown
and take in one hand the scepter and in the other the sphere, com-
plementary symbols of power. Blessed by a priest who seemed to
have stepped right out of one of the icons, in his double-gilded
and embroidered chasuble, lofted to the high heavens by the sing-
ing of the choir, wreathed in clouds of incense, the tsar waited for
the end of the liturgy and, as he had been told to do, went up to
his grandmother and kissed her hand. He promised her that he
would see to it that she would be surrounded by all the chamber-
lains, pages and ladies-in-waiting that her high rank deserved,
even if, as seemed desirable, she should choose to settle some-
where outside the capital to avoid the agitation of the court. Eu-
doxia got the message, and she removed to another residence.
Everyone in Peter’s retinue heaved a sigh of relief: no major inci-
dent had occurred to mar the festivities.
However, a few days after the coronation, the police at the
Kremlin gates discovered some anonymous letters denouncing the
Dolgorukys’ turpitude and inviting people of good heart to de-
mand the rehabilitation of Menshikov. Public rumor attributed
these letters to the Golitsyn family, whose animosity towards the
Dolgorukys was well-known. But the Supreme Privy Council, not
having any proof to give to the board of inquiry and following the
lead of the Dolgorukys, decided that Menshikov alone must be
behind this call to rebellion; they ordered that he and his family
be exiled to Berezov, deep in Siberia. Just when the former court
favorite thought he was done with the tsar’s justice, two officers
presented themselves at his house of Orenburg, within the for-
< 48 >
tress, read him the sentence and, without giving him time to turn
around, shoved him into a carriage. His terrified wife and children
climbed in beside him. They were all preemptively dispossessed,
and were left with only some farm animals and a bit of furniture,
out of charity. The convoy straggled along the route, escorted by a
detachment of soldiers — with weapons drawn, as if they were
transferring a dangerous criminal.
Berezov, located more than a thousand versts (675 miles)
from Tobolsk, is a godforsaken hole in the middle of a wasteland
