Catherine the Great - Not Quite Empress Yet - Extra History - Part 2

Two carriages strain against the muck and mud of the Eastern European plains. Inside, a girl and her mother sit, traveling incognito, under assumed names. Each day takes them closer to Russia. Each day takes them closer to destiny. For the first time in her life, Sofia was celebrated as someone special. Upon her arrival in Russia, the local fort fired its guns in her honor. People whispered of her presence as her slaves chased the court from the Winter Palace to Moscow. When they caught up with Elizabeth's court, they were greeted by ministers, and then, to Sofia's delight, Peter himself. His fish-like appearance, nervous disposition, and his tendency to babble had not abated at all since they met when she was ten. But he was enthusiastic to see her, and her heart soared at the prospect of such a regal match. Then, they were led in to see the Empress. Sofia was overwhelmed by the dazzling splendor. Never in her life had she seen such majesty. And so, the ensuing days passed with her at Peter's side. And with each passing day, she learned a little bit more about how boorish and unconcerned with his position Peter was. He told her about how much he loathed Russia. He barely even spoke the language, instead preferring German in all things. He hated the culture and the religion, planned to remain a Lutheran. He even told her that he did not love her, and rather was in love with someone else, but was resigned to marry her because his aunt wished it. Meanwhile, Sofia began to realize that it wasn't Peter she had to please, but rather the Empress, Elizabeth. She took rapidly to her study of Russian and the Russian Orthodox faith. This pleased Elizabeth, but Sofia took to her studies almost too much, staying up late at night in the harsh Russian cold to continue her practice. Soon, she fell ill. Elizabeth herself rushed to nurse her, but it was pneumonia. Not many survived that disease in those days, and her recovery was made all the more difficult by the doctor's insistence on bloodletting. For weeks, she lay at death's door. But as the sickness burned through her, rumor of how she contracted the disease spread. Her love of Russia, for that's how everybody perceived her ardent studies, was made known, and she became beloved, even as she slipped in and out of consciousness. Then came a moment where everyone thought it was the end. Her mother requested a Lutheran priest, but Sofia, with what little strength was in her, asked for an Orthodox priest instead. And rumor of this washed throughout the land. But even as Sofia's esteem was rising, her mother's came crashing down. Shortly after Sofia recovered, a series of letters that Johanna, Sofia's mother, had sent were intercepted. The king of Prussia had asked her to help him displace the Russian diplomat Bestyshev at Elizabeth's court, and at this, she failed spectacularly. Vastly underestimating her opponent, she got caught sloppily speaking ill of him, the queen, and Russia. Elizabeth's ire was intense, and Sofia sat within the blast radius. A courier burst in on Sofia and Peter while they were playing, and told Sofia that she was to pack, that she was to be sent away immediately. Luckily, before her exile, she managed to get a moment with Elizabeth and humble herself before her. Elizabeth's fury abated, and she decided that the child could still marry her nephew. She even allowed Sofia's mother to stay, although her standing at court was greatly diminished. Elizabeth even accelerated things, pushing forward Sofia's formal conversion to Russian Orthodoxy, so that the official betrothal could take place. But at the dinner after the betrothal, Johanna exploded in an outburst when she was not seated at the table reserved for royalty, saying that she would not be seated with mere ladies of the court. Elizabeth obliged her, and sat her in a totally separate room by herself. With Sofia's conversion to Orthodoxy came a new name. She was rechristened Ekaterina, or as we know her in English, Catherine. After this, Catherine spent her days in the royal life, dancing, attending court, going to balls, simply counting down the days until the wedding. But then tragedy struck. Peter was laid low with smallpox. Catherine waited nervously for news. Eventually, Peter recovered, but he was disfigured, his already Betrachian features now marred by the scars of the disease. The first time Catherine looked upon him, she was horrified. But the illness also stirred a resolve in the Empress Elizabeth. The realm needed an heir. There was no time to wait, no time to risk some other horrible malady. And so, Catherine and Peter were married. The affair was grand, full of splendor. Catherine's dress was of the finest make, and she was decked out with jewels. All of the highest and most notable members of the court were there. There was dancing and revelry, and then at last, the ladies of the court escorted her to her bedchamber. There, not knowing what to do, she waited, alone. And she waited. And waited. Two hours later, Peter showed up, reeking of alcohol, and crashed onto the bed, passing out in an instant. At last, her marriage had freed her from her mother. But now Catherine had a new humiliation and torment. Her husband showed no affection for her, and spent all of his days playing buffoonish children's games, making his servants dress up like soldiers and march around his room. Even when Peter was eventually made to give up such things and sleep in the same room as his wife, rather than be with her, he would wait until dark, when their governess was gone, and then take out his toy soldiers, and have one of the maids move them across the bed as he ordered them about. This continued for seven years. Then, Catherine met a rakish young nobleman, far more knowledgeable in the ways of love than she. At first, she resisted his advances, but eventually, she gave in. Soon after, she was pregnant. She suffered through two horrible miscarriages, and then, finally, a son was born. Whispers abounded as to the son's actual parentage, and though, in both looks and temperament, he seemed Peter's son, and not any of the young lovers Catherine had taken, the matter would never be settled conclusively. But that didn't really matter, for, as far as anyone official was concerned, Russia now had an heir. And so, life moved apace, with Peter and Catherine living separate lives with separate loves, with their little court outside the halls of power. Then, Elizabeth died. All of a sudden, Peter was made emperor, and life changed. In 1762, he took the throne, and one of his first orders was to reverse his aunt's military policies. For years, Russia had struggled in the Seven Years' War, that same war that kicked off the American Revolution, and, through doing so, eventually led to Bolivar. Russia had exhausted innumerable men and material, trying to break the might of Prussian arms. After so many years of fighting, they were on the verge of success. Prussia was nearing utter collapse. Berlin itself was on the verge of falling. But then, Peter offered Prussia peace, giving back everything that had been won by Russian sacrifice and strength of arms. It was the second miracle of the House of Brandenburg. It saved Prussia and Frederick the Great, but it sat ill with the Russian people. It sat even worse with the Russian military and nobility. Catherine was horrified. Peter was more concerned with his title as Duke of Holstein than being Tsar of Russia. He had just given up on the most important war in the world, in order to turn all of Russia's might against Denmark, so that he might restore some small claim of the House of Holstein that they'd lost years before. And though some of his domestic policies were progressive and hailed as necessary reforms, for the most part, Catherine watched him blunder from one alienating act to another. Even during the funeral of his own aunt, while Catherine showed herself to be the model of orthodox humility and respect, Peter didn't even make an effort to appear to care about orthodox customs, and made a mockery of Elizabeth's funeral. He would go even further with his contempt for the church, trying to secularize all church property, and even demanding that clergy shave their beards. But it really was the campaign in Denmark that doomed him. Such an act, so completely disconnected from the interests of Russia, showing such complete disregard for the honor of the army, or even the well-being of its men, was one step too far. And more foolishly still, against the direct counsel of Frederick the Great, the very man who he so admired, and whose peer he now considered himself to be, Peter let this little war pull him away from Moscow, to remove him from the center of power and the court. Soon, a plot began to form to replace Peter. And at the center of that plot was his replacement, his wife. Join us next time for a coup, a coronation, and a queen, as Russia moves from its bumbling Tsar to its resplendent new Tsarina.