An Autocrat at Work and Play her, and she was gratified to see her favorite receiving further honors. Scornful as he was of official distinctions, she was delighted, as much for herself as for him, when he was named count of the Holy Roman Empire by Charles VII. When she made him a field marshal, he smiled ironically and thanked her in terms that give a clear picture of the man he was: “Liz, you can do whatever you like, but you will never make anyone take me seriously, even as a simple lieutenant.”3 Soon, all the court considered Razumovsky not only the “night emperor” but a Prince Consort, as legitimate as if his union with Elizabeth had been consecrated by a priest. Moreover, rumors had been circulating for months that they had married, in great secrecy, in the church of the little village of Perovo, outside of Moscow. The couple supposedly had been blessed by Father Dubiansky, the empress’s chaplain and guardian of her deepest secrets. No courtier attended these clandestine nuptials. Nothing changed, outwardly, in the tsarina’s relations with her favorite. If Elizabeth had wanted this secret sacrament, it was simply to keep God on her side. Debauched and unruly as her lifestyle was, she needed to believe that the Almighty was with her in her everyday life and in her exercise of power. This illusion of a supernatural partnership helped her maintain some semblance of equilibrium in the midst of the many contradictions that shook her from all sides.
From that day forward, Razumovsky visited her at night with impunity. This new situation should have encouraged them to exchange political opinions with as much ease and confidence as their caresses, but Razumovsky was still hesitant to abandon his neutrality. However, while he never imposed his will on Elizabeth when it came to making fundamental decisions, she was well aware of his preferences. Guided by his instinct as a man of the earth, he was generally supportive of Chancellor Bestuzhev’s na«155»
Terrible Tsarinas tionalist ideas. In such times, when some states are at war and others are preparing for it, and when forging alliances is the principal occupation of all the foreign ministries, it was difficult to see clearly where Russia’s best interests lay. What is clear, in any case, is that the hostilities between Russia and Sweden (recklessly started in 1741 under the regency of Anna Leopoldovna) came to an end. The Russians, led by Generals Lascy and Keith, won several victories over the Swedes and a peace agreement was signed on August 8, 1743. Via the treaty of Abo, Russia gave back some recently conquered territories but held onto most of Finland. With the Swedish conflict settled, Elizabeth hoped that France would prove less hostile to the idea of an accord. But, in the meantime, St. Petersburg had signed a pact of friendship with Berlin, which Versailles took very badly. Once again, every attempt would have to be made to assuage, reassure, and persuade them of Russia’s good faith.
It was on the background of this unsettled international context that an affair erupted that neither Bestuzhev nor Elizabeth had been prepared for in the least. In mid-summer, St. Petersburg was rocked by rumors of a plot being fomented among the highest nobility, intended to overthrow Elizabeth I, at the instigation of the Austrian ambassador Botta d’Adorno. This disloyal and disruptive coterie was said to be considering offering the throne to the Brunswick family, gathered around little Ivan VI. As soon as Elizabeth got wind of this, she ordered the impudent Botta d’Adorno arrested. But, having a good nose for danger, he had already left Russia. He was said to be on his way to Berlin, on the way to Austria.
This diplomatic felon may have escaped, but his Russian accomplices were still around. The most compromised were those who were close (or distant) relations of the Lopukhin clan. Elizabeth didn’t forget that she had had to slap Natalya Lopukhin for