among the declared Germanophiles, and put together a little
homeland to console himself. He surrounded himself with a close
circle of sympathizers, and pretended to live with them in Russia
as if their mission were to colonize that backward and unculti-
< 146 >
vated country.
Elizabeth looked on helplessly as this young man, whom she
had sought to forcibly integrate into a nation where he felt com-
pletely out of place, developed an obsession. Apparently, a sover-
eign’s so-called absolute power has its limits. Believing she had
acted for the good of all, she wondered whether she had not made
the gravest error in her life in entrusting the future of Peter the
Great’s empire to a prince who clearly hated both Russia and the
Russians.
< 147 >
Footnotes
1. Cited by Daria Olivier,
2.
3. Letter dated 27 February 1742 ; cf. Brian-Chaninov,
4. Letters from Mardefeld, dated 12 and 19 December 1741, quoted by
Simievski: “Élisabeth Petrovna”, in
iszewski in
5. Letter dated 16 December 1741 ; cf. Daria Olivier,
6. Cf. Daria Olivier,
7.
< 148 >
VIII
AN AUTOCRAT AT WORK AND PLAY
Elizabeth’s main challenge was to enjoy herself fully without
neglecting the interests of Russia too much. That was a difficult
balance to achieve in a world where temptations, romantic and
otherwise, were rife. Given Louis XV’s obstinate refusal to extend
a hand to her, should she not rather follow her nephew’s example
and seek the friendship of Prussia, which was more favorably dis-
posed to her? Although her adoptive son was just 15 years old, she
felt it was time to give some thought to finding him a bride — a
German bride, preferably — or at least one who had been born
and raised on Frederick II’s territory. At the same time, she still
preserved the hope that good relations could be restored with
Versailles; she charged her ambassador, Prince Kantemir, with
discreetly notifying the king that she regretted the marquis of La
Chétardie’s departure and that she would be happy to receive him
at her court again. He had been replaced in St. Petersburg by an
ambassador plenipotentiary, Mr. d’Usson d’Allion, a strait-laced
character whom the empress found neither attractive nor impres-
sive.
< 149 >
With the French continually letting her down, she com-
forted herself by imitating (in her own way) the fads and fashions
of that country that she so admired. This fancy resulted in an un-
restrained passion for clothing, jewels, bibelots and conversa-
tional tics that seemed to have a Parisian cachet. She never missed
a chance to round out her wardrobe; indeed, since dancing made
her perspire profusely, she would change her garb three times
during a ball. As soon as a French ship arrived in the port of St.
Petersburg, she would have the cargo inspected; and the latest
innovations of Parisian dressmakers were brought to her first, so
that none of her subjects might know the latest fashions before
her. Her favorite gowns were of colorful silk, preferably overlaid
with gold or silver embroidery; but she would also dress as a man
to surprise her entourage by the pleasing contour of her calves and
her trim ankles. Twice a week, a masquerade ball was held at the
court. Her Majesty would participate, in the costume of a Cos-
sack
that she was more attractive in male clothing than any of her
usual female guests, she instituted masked balls where the women
were required to dress in Parisian-style jackets and knee-breeches
and the men in skirts with panniers.
She was overweaningly jealous of other women’s beauty and
could not brook the slightest competition. Once, she arrived at a
ball wearing a rose in her hair, only to notice with indignation
that Madame Natalya Lopukhin, famous for her social successes,
was also wearing one. No mere coincidence, thought Elizabeth;
she considered it an obvious attack upon the imperial honor.
Stopping the orchestra in the middle of a minuet, she made Mrs.
Lopukhin kneel, called for a pair of scissors, furiously clipped the
offending flower and the tresses that had been cleverly curled
around the stem, slapped the unfortunate woman on both cheeks
< 150 >
in front of a group of stunned courtiers, and signaled to the or-
chestra to go on with the dance. At the end of the piece, some-
body whispered in her ear that Mrs. Lopukhin had fainted with
shame. Shrugging, the tsarina muttered, “She only got what she
deserved, the imbecile!” And immediately after taking this little
revenge, she returned to her usual serene mood, as if it had been
some other person who had been so upset just a moment before.
Similarly, during a trip through the countryside Aksakov, one of
