arms. By now, Elizabeth had no more doubt that the Good Lord
had guided her to place her confidence in this diminutive 15-year-
old princess. Catherine was indeed the right wife for that simple-
ton, Peter, and the right daughter-in-law to enable her to enjoy life
and end her days in peace. They set out again for Khotilovo, to-
gether. Arriving in the village, they went to see the Grand Duke,
who was racked with fever, perspiring and shivering on a miser-
able cot. Was this pitiful scene the end of the dynasty of Peter the
Great? And was this the end of Catherine’s aspirations? The em-
press was anxious to avoid infecting the girl before the wedding,
so Catherine, at her request, set out again for St. Petersburg with
her mother, leaving Her Majesty at the Grand Duke’s bedside.
For weeks, in a primitive and poorly heated hovel, Elizabeth
watched over the stupid and ungrateful heir who had played such
a nasty trick, trying to back out of the game just when they were
both on the point of winning. And little by little, Peter’s fever di-
minished and he began to achieve some relative lucidity.
By the end of January 1745, Peter had recovered from the fe-
ver and the empress escorted him back to St. Petersburg. He had
changed so much during his illness that Elizabeth was afraid the
< 171 >
bride-to-be would be shocked — her fiancé, never handsome, was
now revolting. The small pox had disfigured him terribly. With
his shaved head, swollen face, bloodshot eyes and cracked lips, he
was a caricature of the young man he had been just a few months
before. Catherine was sure to be horrified. Elizabeth put a big
wig on Peter’s head in an attempt to improve his disastrous ap-
pearance, but topped with a cascade of false curls, he looked even
worse. There wasn’t much to do but allow destiny take its course.
As soon as the travelers had arrived and settled into the Winter
Palace, young Catherine rushed to visit her miraculously recuper-
ated fiancé. Elizabeth, heart in throat, presided over their reun-
ion. At the sight of Grand Duke Peter, Catherine froze. Her
mouth half-opened, her eyes wide, she stammered out some pleas-
antry to congratulate her fiancé on his recovery, dropped a quick
curtsey and fled as if she had just met a ghost.
February 10 was the Grand Duke’s birthday. The empress,
dismayed by his appearance, even advised him against showing
himself in public. However, she still harbored the hope that, over
time, his physical flaws would begin to fade. What concerned her
more, for the time being, was the little interest he showed in his
betrothed. According to people in Catherine’s entourage, Peter
had boasted to her of having had mistresses. But was he even ca-
pable of satisfying a woman? Was he “normal,” in that regard?
And would the delightful Catherine be charming enough, inven-
tive enough to awaken the desire of such an odd husband? Would
she give children to the country that was already impatient for
them? What could remedy the sexual deficiency of a man who
found the sight of a well-trained regiment more exciting than that
of a young woman lying languidly in the shadows of the bedroom?
The doctors, taking secret council, decided that the Grand Duke
might find the ladies more attractive if he drank less. Moreover,
in their opinion, his inhibition was only temporary and he would
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soon go through a “better phase.” Lestocq concurred. But the em-
press was surprised that neither Catherine nor Peter was in any
hurry. After lengthy discussions, she set the date of the ceremony,
irrevocably. The most superb weddings of the century would take
place on August 21, 1745.
< 173 >
Footnotes
1. Catherine II :
2. A pejorative name signifying “Razumovsky’s mother”.
3. K. Waliszewski,
4. Reported by K. Waliszewski :
5. Cf. Daria Olivier,
< 174 >
IX
ELIZABETHAN RUSSIA
When it came to organizing these important festivities,
Elizabeth left nothing to chance. The morning of the ceremony,
she sat in Catherine’s dressing room and examined her, naked,
from head to toe. She directed the maids-in-waiting in the selec-
tion of underclothes, discussed with the hairdresser the best way
of arranging her hair, and chose, unilaterally, the silver brocaded
gown with a full skirt, short sleeves, and a train embroidered with
roses. Then, emptying her jewel case, she supplemented the orna-
mentation with necklaces, bracelets, rings, brooches and elaborate
earrings, all of which so weighed down the bride that she was re-
duced to posing like a hieratic figure, barely able to move. The
grand duke, too, was encased in silver fabric and decked out in
imperial jewels; but while the bride may have appeared like a ce-
lestial vision, he, looking like a monkey disguised as a prince, was
liable to provoke a good laugh. The buffoons that had surrounded
