rising star among the ordinary people and the middle aristocracy
was the French ambassador, the marquis de La Chétardie. He
very quickly understood the advantages he could derive for his
country and himself by winning Elizabeth Petrovna’s confidence,
and even friendship.
He was assisted in this campaign of diplomatic seduction by
the princess’s designated doctor, a Hanoverian of French origin,
Armand Lestocq, whose ancestors had settled in Germany after
the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. This man, about 50 years
old, skilled in his art and absolutely amoral in his private conduct,
had been introduced to Elizabeth Petrovna when she was only an
obscure young girl, flirtatious and sensual. The marquis de La
Chétardie often called upon him to try to penetrate the tsarevna’s
varying moods and the shifting public opinion in Russia. What
stood out, in Lestocq’s comments, was that unlike the women
who had preceded her at the head of the country, this one found
France very attractive. She had learned French and even “danced
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the minuet” in her childhood. Although she read very little, she
appreciated the spirit of that nation that was supposed to be cou-
rageous, and at the same time, rebellious and frivolous. She surely
could get over the fact that, in her early youth, she had been of-
fered in marriage to Louis XV, before being offered (without any
greater success), to the prince-bishop of Lübeck and finally to Pe-
ter II, who had died prematurely. The mirage of Versailles contin-
ued to dazzle her, despite the many disappointments in love that
she had suffered. Those who admired her grace and her expansive
exuberance, as she entered her thirtieth year, claimed that in spite
of her plumpness she “made men hot,” that she her skirt was very
light and that, in her vicinity, one had the sensation of being sur-
rounded by French music. The Saxon agent Lefort wrote, with a
mixture of respect and impertinence, “It seems that she was, in-
deed, born for France, as she likes only superficial glitter.”3 For his
part, the English ambassador Edward Finch, while recognizing
that the tsarevna was very spirited, judged her “too fat to con-
spire.”4
However, Elizabeth Petrovna’s penchant for the French re-
finements of fashion and culture did not keep her from reveling in
Russian rusticity when it came to her nightly pleasures. Even be-
fore she held an official position at her niece’s court, she took as
her lover a Ukrainian peasant who had been named cantor in the
choir of the palace chapel: Alexis Razumovsky. His deep voice,
athletic physique and crude ways were all the more appreciated in
the bedroom, coming as they did after hours spent amid the affec-
tations and the mincing ways of the salons. An avid consumer of
simple carnal satisfactions and elegance as well, the princess ex-
pressed her true nature through this contradiction. A full-
blooded man, Alexis Razumovsky had a weakness for drink, often
for too much drink, and when he had had his fill he would some-
times raise his voice, utter coarse words, and toss about the furni-
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ture, while his mistress was a little bit frightened and very much
amused by his vulgarity. Hearing about this “misalliance,” those
fastidious advisers who were in close communication with the
tsarevna recommended she conduct herself with prudence, or at
least discretion, in order to avoid a damaging scandal. However,
both the Shuvalovs (Alexander and Ivan), the chamberlain Mik-
hail Vorontsov and most of Elizabeth’s partisans had to admit
that, in the barracks and on the street, the news of this liaison be-
tween the daughter of Peter the Great and a man of the people
was greeted with indulgence and even good-naturedness — as if
the folks “at the bottom” liked her all the more for not scorning
one of their own.
At the same time, in the palace, the Francophile party was
getting cozier with Elizabeth. That rendered her suspicious to
Ostermann who, as a declared champion of the Germanic cause in
Russia, was unlikely to tolerate the least obstacle to his plans.
When the British ambassador Edward Finch asked his opinion of
the princess’s overt preferences in international relations, he pee-
vishly retorted that, if she continued to exhibit such “ambiguous
conduct,” she would be “locked up in a convent.” Reporting this
conversation in one of his dispatches, the Englishman observed
ironically: “That could be a dangerous expedient, for she is not at
all suited to the life of a nun and she is extremely popular.”5
He was right. From one day to the next, dissatisfaction was
escalating within the regiments of the Guard. The men secretly
wondered what they were waiting for, in the palace, to drive out
all the Germans who were lording it over the Russian. From the
humblest of the
injustice done to the daughter of Peter the Great, sole heiress of
the Romanov line and lineage, by depriving her of the crown.
