Terrible tsarinas

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Terrible Tsarinas be quite oblivious to the fact that this s candal involved his fiancee, soon to be his wife, and that everything that involved her must affect him as well.

At the monastery, the traveling party discussed the young couple’s future, in religious and not very religious terms; meanwhile, in St. Petersburg, a party of officers and armed guards presented themselves at La Chetardie’s residence and informed him that, in view of his defamations against Her Majesty, he had 24 hours in which to take his leave. Kicked out like a dishonest servant, the Marquis protested, argued, raged, and claimed that he would lodge a complaint with his government; finally, he accepted his fate and quickly packed up.

When he reached the first coach house along the way, an emissary from the Empress caught up with him and demanded that he give back the Order of St. Andrew, and the snuffbox with her portrait enameled in miniature on the lid which he had received some years before - while he was in good standing with the court. He refused to part with these relics. At the next stage, Bestuzhev conveyed to him, by another courier, a comminatory sentence from Elizabeth: “The Marquis de La Chetardie is not worthy of receiving personal commissions from Her Majesty.” At this sudden fall from grace, La Chetardie thought he was losing his mind. He asked Versailles to intervene in a matter that, in his view, insulted France as much as it insulted him. This time, it was Louis XV who set him in his place. As punishment for his maladroit initiatives, he should withdraw to his estate in Limousin, and stay there until further notice.

As for Elizabeth and her fellow pilgrims, after paying a pious visit to the monastery, they made their way back to Moscow where the ladies from Anhalt-Zerbst strove to appear natural in spite of their shame and dis appointment. Johanna was in a rage, knowing that she was now quite unwelcome in Russia and guess«168»

An Autocrat at Work and Play ing that she would be invited to take her ship out as soon as her daughter was wed. Sophia, for her part, tried to get over this series of setbacks by preparing for her conversion to orthodoxy with all the zeal of a neophyte. While she was scrupulously attending to everything said by the priest charged with initiating her into the faith of her new compatriots, Peter was off on a hunting excursion, merrily scouring the surrounding forests and plains, with his usual comrades. They were all from Holstein, they spoke only German among themselves, and they encouraged the Grand Duke to resist Russian traditions and stand fast to his Germanic origins.

On June 28, 1744, Sophia was finally received into the bosom of the Orthodox Church. She gave her baptism vows in Russian, without stumbling, and changed her first name to become Catherine Alexeyevna. She was not shocked at being required to give up her own religion - she had long understood that that was part of the price to be paid if one wished to marry a Russian of quality.

The following day, June 29, she presented herself at the imperial chapel for the engagement ceremony. The empress slowly stepped forward, under a silver canopy held aloft by eight generals. Behind her the Grand Duke Peter advanced, smiling idiotically all around, with the new Grand Duchess Catherine by his side, pale and deeply moved, her eyes lowered. The service, celebrated by Father Ambroise, was four hours long. Despite her recent illness, Catherine never faltered. Elizabeth was pleased with her future daughter-in-law. During the ball that brought the festivities to a close, Elizabeth noticed once more the contrast between the girl’s elegance and simplicity and the brazenness of the mother, who talked nonstop and was always putting herself forward.

Shortly thereafter, the entire court removed to Kiev, in great