Robert Coughlan: Elizabeth and Catherine. Empresses of All the Russias. Ed. Jay Gold. NY: Putnam’s, 1974. 356 pp.
What makes Robert Coughlan’s Elizabeth and Catherine stand out from the extensive literature on Catherine the Great is its elevation of the much less well-known Czarina Elizabeth to nearly equal status. Typically, Elizabeth is treated in tandem not with Catherine but rather with Anna Ivanovna (reigned 1730-1740; those interested in a recent take on her may wish to consult Elif Batuman: The Possessed, especially the chapter entitled “The House of Ice”). Together, Anna and Elizabeth are considered transitional figures between Peter the Great (died 1725) and Catherine (reigned 1762-1796). Elizabeth, Peter’s daughter, has long been regarded as a pleasure-seeking and rather limited ruler whose achievements, such as the founding of the University of Moscow, are credited to the initiative of her advisers. Coughlan actually passes over this accomplishment in silence, which is rather strange considering his goal is to ensure that she take “her rightful place in the pantheon of Russian and world history.” (pg. xiii)
So why should Elizabeth be considered in such exalted company? Coughlan’s answer is simple: “There could have been no Catherine without Elizabeth.” Alas, one cannot very well maintain that he has succeeded in changing the general view of Elizabeth over the years since publication of his book in 1974. Michael Schippan’s authoritative The Enlightenment in Russia in the 18th Century (2012, in German), for instance, gives her short shrift. Schippan ignores Coughlan’s book, most likely because it is decidedly a popular, not an academic history; there are no footnotes, and the brief bibliography, which lists only books in English, has but a single title devoted to Elizabeth – R. Nisbett Bain’s biography, published in 1899.
(Portrait of Elizabeth in the 1720s, by Ivan Nikitich Nikitin)
Nonetheless, Coughlan’s attempt to restore her reputation remains a worthy effort. “Elizabeth Petrovna, Empress and Autocrat of All the Russias, reigned and ruled for twenty-two years. Historical judgments of her have been as mixed as her character, as mixed as the times, as mixed as Russia itself…. There would seem to have been a veritable gallery of Elizabeths, one to suit every taste and predilection.” (pp. 38-39) Though she had intelligence, Coughlan concedes that this reputed apotheosis of Russian piety – and carnality – lacked intellectual curiosity and was “mentally lazy.” (pg. 68) “Probably her major contribution to the overall objective of Peter’s revolution – the remaking of Russia as a modern European power – was the infusion of French specialists and French influences which she encouraged throughout her reign.” (pg. 40)
Despite this assertion, Coughlan actually makes a better case that although she might have neglected affairs of state, Elizabeth did attend to the most important matter – selecting the best possible mate for Grand Duke Peter, who for a few months in 1762 would succeed her as Peter III. Her choice fell on Catherine, the daughter of a minor German prince whose dynastic connections were by no means splendid. It is only thanks to the fascinating if fragmentary autobiography Catherine left behind that we are comparatively well-informed about the years up until her accession to the throne. For Elizabeth there is nothing comparable; indeed, some of the most vivid images we have of her are gleaned from Catherine’s memoirs, which tell how Elizabeth monitored the newlyweds and pushed them together whenever Peter’s lack of interest kept them apart. She hovered, she spied, she even controlled their allowance.
The other main character in this story, Peter III, proved an unhappy monster, ill-suited for the role of czar. His philo-Prussianism was especially problematic as “Elizabeth had come to power in a revolt against the too-conspicuous German influence at court.” (pg. 75) In private life, he loved many women, just not the one he married. This contributed to a court atmosphere full of intrigue, rivalry, and jockeying for power. The contrast between Catherine’s obvious good sense and Peter’s equally obvious lack of that quality finally persuaded Elizabeth to make the fateful decision not to banish Catherine, thereby rejecting the counsel of her chief advisers.
(Peter as Grand Duke, Catherine as Grand Duchess)
As for the next in line of succession, Prince Paul, Elizabeth played an important role not only in his upbringing but in his very conception. Even though she knew full well that the child’s true father could not possibly have been Peter III, she acted as though she believed it so fervently that she ended up convincing herself of Paul’s legitimacy. “It was, of course, a kind of dementia.” (pg. 98)
Almost in spite of his own intentions, Coughlan’s story becomes most interesting when the focus inevitably shifts from Elisabeth to Catherine. For as much as he may have wanted to give equal treatment to both, the material he has to work with is simply much richer when it comes to her. “Both were passionate women; both were Russian patriots; both had at heart the interests of the dynasty; both had contempt for Peter.” (pg. 158) Though Coughlan by no means neglects foreign and domestic affairs of state, his real interest lies more in the private realm – to the extent, that is, that these spheres can be separated. During her period of illness and neglect after giving birth to Paul, Catherine spent her time reading about Roman emperors Caligula, Claudius, and Nero. This helped her understand the “Third Rome” in which she lived, a St. Petersburg riven with rivalries and intrigues.
Coughlan highlights Catherine as a patron of the arts who took a personal interest in palace architecture and garden layout. He follows her dealings on the art market in Paris, Amsterdam and Brussels more closely than the details of her reforms in Russia. “Catherine saw it as her historic mission to civilize the Russians. Instead of importing technicians and engineers, astrolabes and milling machines [as Peter the Great had done], she would import philosophers and scholars and teachers.” (pg. 199) Winning the approval of Diderot was a triumph “that could properly be ranked with any of her greatest victories over the Turks.” (pg. 243) Eventually both Diderot’s library and Voltaire’s ended up in St. Petersburg. In the final analysis, though, her real focus was not so much on art or even artists as on collecting, on the ravenous hunt for masterpieces, the “ingathering of the art treasures of foreign lands.” (pg. 265)
“Catherine’s gluttony for art was only one aspect of her gluttony for life,” (pg. 273), a topic which leads straight to the chapters on Potemkin, thus supporting the assertion that the “major historical events of her reign are inseparable from her love affairs.” (pg. 227) Her reputation for indulging in innumerable affairs really dates from the period when Potemkin had to absent himself to conquer and rule over vast new territories in the south. The so-called “Potemkin villages” he created for her there were in fact real.
Some passages written in 1974 have a curious resonance today. The “New Russia” that Potemkin acquired for Catherine is analogous to Western European colonies such as New England, New France, New Spain, and New Holland. In this context, Coughlan pays special attention to the Crimea, a “khanate” then ruled by the Tatars that would “sooner or later predictably wither away and become a Russian appendage. In Catherine and Potemkin’s design, this process would be too slow. Their aim was the destruction of the khanate and outright annexation of the Crimea – soon… Russian troops and authorities would arrive not as invaders but as saviors.” (pg. 292)
© Hamilton Beck
hamiltonbeck 