St. Petersburg in the time of Peter the Great.
The Neva Embankment, the Admiralty, and the Academy of Sciences.
Bibliothèque nationale de France, Prints Division. Photo B.N.
View of the Isaakievsky Bridge and St. Isaac’s Cathedral, the Winter Palace,
and the Hermitage, in St. Petersburg.
Photo Giraudon.
The Winter Palace, St. Petersburg, 1843.
Russian School, Sodovnikov.
Preserved in Peterhof Library. Photo Josse.
The grand palace and the park at Tsarskoye Selo.
Engraving by Damane-Demartrais.
Catherine I (1682-1727), wife of Peter I (The Great).
Empress of Russia (1725-1727).
Empress Anna Ivanovna on her coronation day (1730).
After an engraving printed in Moscow.
Portrait of Elizabeth Petrovna,
Empress of Russia (1741-1762),
daughter of Peter the Great.
Copper engraving, 1761, by Georg
Friedrich Schmidt (1696-1772),
after a 1758 painting by Louis
Toque (1696-1772).
Elizabeth 1st (1709-1762) on the
anniversary of her coronation
day.
The soldiers swear their fidelity to
her. Russian School (1883).
St. Petersburg, The Hermitage Mu-
seum. Photo Josse.
Elizabeth Petrovna, Empress of Russia (1741-1761).
“Tsarina Elizabeth Petrovna, Portrait on horseback, with a Moor.”
Painted in 1743 by Georg Christoph Grooth (1716-1749). Detail.
Painted on canvas, 85 x 68.3 cm.
Moscow, Tretyakov Gallery.
Catherine II the Great (1729-
1796) in her coronation gown.
By Stefano Torelli (1712-1784),
Italian School.
St. Petersburg, The Hermitage
Museum. Photo Josse.
Catherine II the Great. Empress of
Russia (1729-1796).
“The Coronation of Catherine II.”
Painted in 1777 by Stefano Torelli.
Oil on canvas. Moscow. AKG Photo.
VII
ELIZABETH’S TRIUMPH
Coups d’état having become a political tradition in Russia,
Elizabeth felt morally and historically obliged to follow the proto-
col that usually applied in such extreme moments: solemnly pro-
claiming one’s rights to the throne, arresting one’s opponents
not have slept more than two hours that agitated night — but in
moments of euphoria, the thrill of success is more reinvigorating
than a simple nap could ever be. She was up at the break of day,
beautifully dressed and beautifully coifed, smiling as if she had
just enjoyed a refreshing sleep. Twenty courtiers were already
squeezing themselves into her antechamber, seeking to be the first
to pay homage to the new ruler. In a glance she discerned which
of them were genuinely delighted by her victory and which were
merely prostrating themselves before her in the hope of avoiding
the punishment that they deserved. Deferring the pleasure of act-
ing upon that judgment, she showed a pleasant face to all and,
waving them aside, stepped out onto the balcony.
Below stood the regiments who had come to swear their al-
< 127 >
legiance to her. The soldiers, in parade formation, howled with
joy — without breaking ranks. Their eyes shone as savagely as
their bayonets. To Elizabeth, the cheers shattering the icy early
morning air were an eloquent declaration of love to the “little
mother.” Behind this rampart of gray uniforms, the people of St.
Petersburg crowded together, as impatient as the army to express
its surprise and its approval. Facing this unanimous joy, it was
very tempting for a sensitive woman to forgive those who had
misplaced their loyalties. But Elizabeth stiffened her resolve
against an indulgence that she might come to regret later on. She
knew, through atavism if not through personal experience, that
authority precludes charity. With a cold-minded wisdom, she
chose to savor her happiness without giving up her resentment.
To avoid any confusion, she dispatched Prince Nikita
Trubetskoy to bring the various embassies the official news of Her
Majesty Elizabeth I’s accession to the throne; most of the foreign
ministers had already been apprised of this event. No doubt the
most pleased was His Excellency Jacques-Joachim Trotti de La
Chétardie, who had made this cause his personal mission. Eliza-
beth’s triumph was to some extent his triumph, and he hoped to
be suitably rewarded both by the principal interested party and
by the French government.
He went by barouche to the Winter Palace to greet the new
tsarina; along the way, the grenadiers who had taken part in the
heroic tumult of the day before, and who were still wandering
about in the streets, recognized him as he went by and gave him a
formal escort, calling him
and “Guardian of Peter the Great’s daughter.” La Chétardie was
moved to tears by this touching warmth. Seeing that the Russians
had more heart than the French, and not wishing to let them
down, he invited all these brave military men to come and drink to
the health of France and Russia on the embassy grounds. How-
< 128 >
ever, when he related this little anecdote to his minister, Amelot
de Chailloux, the latter reproached him sharply: “These compli-
ments from the grenadiers, which you unfortunately could not
