> history as Catharine the Great, and having the high distinction of being

the only woman to whose name the title Great has ever been attached. We

may here say, however, that many women have lived to whom it might have

been more properly applied.



In 1744 this daughter of one of the innumerable German kinglings became

Grand Duchess of Russia, through marriage with Peter, the coming heir to

the throne. We may here step from the beaten track of our story to say

that Russia, at this period of its history, was ruled over by a number

of empresses, though at no other time have women occupied its throne.

The line began with Sophia, sister of Peter the Great, who reigned for

some years as virtual empress. Catharine, the wife of Peter, became

actual empress, and was followed, with insignificant intervals of male

rulers, by Anne, Elizabeth, and Catharine the Great. These male rulers

were Peter II., whose reign was brief, Ivan, an infant, and Peter III.,

husband of Catharine, who succeeded Elizabeth in 1762. It is with the

last named that we are concerned.



Peter III., though grandson of Peter the Great, was as weak a man as

ever sat on a throne; Catharine a woman of unusual energy. For years of

their married life these two had been enemies. Peter had the misfortune

to have been born a fool, and folly on the throne is apt to make a sorry

show. He had, besides, become a drunkard and profligate. The one good

point about him, in the estimation of many, was his admiration for

Frederick the Great, since he came to the throne of Russia at the crisis

of Frederick's career, and saved him from utter ruin by withdrawing the

Russian army from his opponents.



His folly soon raised up against him two powerful enemies. One of these

was the army, which did not object, after fighting with the Austrians

against the Prussians, to turn and fight with the Prussians against the

Austrians, but did object to the Prussian dress and discipline, which

Peter insisted upon introducing. It possessed a discipline of its own,

which it preferred to keep, and bitterly disliked its change of dress.

The czar even spoke of suppressing the Guards, as his grandfather had

suppressed the corps of the Strelitz. This was a fatal offence. It made

this strong force his enemy, while he was utterly lacking in the

resolution with which Peter the Great had handled rebels in arms.



The other enemy was Catharine, whom he had deserted for an unworthy

favorite. But her enmity was quiet, and might have remained so had he

not added insult to injury. Heated by drink, he called her a "fool" at a

public dinner before four hundred people, including the greatest

dignitaries of the realm and the foreign ministers. He was not satisfied

with an insult, but added to it the folly of a threat, that of an order

for her arrest. This he withdrew,--a worse fault, under the

circumstances, than to have made it. He had taught Catharine that her

only safety lay in action, if she would not be removed from the throne

in favor of the worthless creature who had supplanted her in her

husband's esteem.



Events moved rapidly. It was on the 21st of June, 1762, that the insult

was given and the threat made. Within a month the czar was dead and his

wife reigned in his stead. On the 24th Peter left St. Petersburg for

Oranienbaum, his summer residence. He did not propose to remain there

long. He had it in view to join his army and defeat the Danes, his

present foes, with the less defined intention of gaining glory on some

great battle-field at the side of his victorious ally Frederick the

Great. The fleet with which Denmark was to be invaded was not ready to

sail, many of the crew being sick; but this little difficulty did not

deter the czar. He issued an imperial ukase ordering the sick sailors to

get well.



On going to his summer residence Peter had imprudently left Catharine at

St. Petersburg, taking his mistress in her stead. On the 29th his wife

received orders from him to go to Peterhof. Thither he meant to proceed

before setting out on his campaign. His feast-day came on the 10th of

July. On the morning of the 9th he set out with a large train of

followers for the palace of Peterhof, where the next day Catharine was

to give a grand dinner in his honor.



It was two o'clock in the afternoon when Peterhof was reached. To the

utter surprise of the czar, there were none but servants to meet him,

and they in a state of mortal terror.



"Where is the empress?" he demanded.



"Gone."



"Where?"



No one could tell him. She had simply gone,--where and why he was soon

to learn. As he waited and fumed, a peasant approached and handed him a

letter, which proved to be from Bressau, his former French valet. It

contained the astounding information that the empress had arrived in St.

Petersburg that morning and had been proclaimed sole and absolute

sovereign of Russia.



The tale was beyond his powers of belief. Like a madman he rushed

through the empty rooms, making them resound with vociferous demands for

his wife; looked in every corner and cupboard; rushed wildly through the

gardens, calling for Catharine again and again; while the crowd of

frightened courtiers followed in his steps. It was in vain; no voice

came in answer to his demand, no Catharine was to be found.



The story of what had actually happened is none too well known. It has

been told in more shapes than one. What we know is that there was a

conspiracy to place Catharine on the throne, that the leaders of the

troops had been tampered with, and that one of the conspirators, Captain

Passek, had just been arrested by order of the czar. It was this arrest

that precipitated the revolution. Fearing that all was discovered, the

plotters took the only available means to save themselves.



The arrest of Passek had nothing to do with the conspiracy. It was for

quite another cause. But it proved to be an accident with great results,

since the Orlofs, who were deep in the conspiracy, thought that their

lives were in danger, and that safety lay only in prompt action. As a

result, at five A.M.. on July 9, Alexis Orlof suddenly appeared at



Peterhof, and demanded to see the empress at once.



Catharine was fast asleep when the young officer hastily entered her

room. He lost no time in waking her. She gazed on him with surprise and

alarm.



"It is time to get up," he said, in as calm a tone as if he had been

announcing that breakfast was waiting. "Everything is ready for your

proclamation."



"What do you mean?" she demanded.



"Passek is arrested. You must come," he said, in the same tone.



This was enough. A long perspective of peril lay behind those words. The

empress arose, dressed in all haste, and sprang into the coach beside

which Orlof awaited her. One of her women entered with her, Orlof seated

himself in front, a groom sprang up behind, and off they set, at

headlong speed, for St. Petersburg.



The distance was nearly twenty miles, and the horses, which had already

covered that distance, were in very poor condition for doubling it

without rest. In his haste Orlof had not thought of ordering a relay.

His carelessness might have cost them dear, since it was of vital moment

to reach the city without delay. Fortunately, they met a peasant, and

borrowed two horses from his cart. Those two horses perhaps won the

throne for Catharine.






Five miles from the city they met two others of the conspirators,

devoured with anxiety. Changing to the new coach, the party drove in at

breakneck pace, and halted before the barracks of the Ismailofsky

regiment, with which the conspirators had been at work.



It was between six and seven o'clock in the morning. Only a dozen men

were at the barracks. Nothing had been prepared. Excitement or terror

had turned all heads. Yet now no time was lost. Drummers were roused and

drums beaten. Out came soldiers in haste, half dressed and half asleep.



"Shout 'Long live the empress!'" demanded the visitors.



Without hesitation the guardsmen obeyed, their only thought at the

moment being that of a free flow of vodka, the Russian drink. A priest

was quickly brought, who, like the soldiers, was prepared to do as he

was told. Raising the cross, he hastily offered them a form of oath, to

which the soldiers subscribed. The first step was taken; the empress was

proclaimed.



The proclamation declared Catharine sole and absolute sovereign. It made

no mention of her little son Paul, as some of the leaders in the

conspiracy had proposed. The Orlofs controlled the situation, and the

action of the Ismailofsky was soon sanctioned by other regiments of the

guard. They hated the czar and were ripe for revolt.



One regiment only, the Preobrajensky, that of which the czar himself was

colonel, resisted. It was led against the other troops under the command

of a captain and a major. The hostile bodies came face to face a few

paces apart; the queen's party greatest in number, but in disorder, the

czar's party drawn up with military skill. A moment, a word, might

precipitate a bloody conflict.



Suddenly a man in the ranks cried out, "Oura! Long live the empress!"

In an instant the whole regiment echoed the cry, the ranks were broken,

the soldiers embraced their comrades in the other ranks, and, falling on

their knees, begged pardon of the empress for their delay.



And now the throng turned towards the neighboring church of Our Lady of

Kasan, in which Catharine was to receive their oaths of fidelity. A

crowd pushed in to do homage, composed not only of soldiers, but of

members of the senate and the synod. A manifesto was quickly drawn up by

a clerk named Tieplof, printed in all haste, and distributed to the

people, who read it and joined heartily in the cry of "Long live the

empress!"



Catharine next reviewed the troops, who again hailed her with shouts.

And thus it was that a czar was dethroned and a new reign begun without

the loss of a drop of blood. There was some little disorder. Several

wine-shops were broken into, the house of Prince George of Holstein was

pillaged and he and his wife were roughly handled, but that was all: as

yet it had been one of the simplest of revolutions.



Catharine was empress, but how long would she remain so? Her empire

consisted of the fickle people of St. Petersburg, her army of four

regiments of the guards. If Peter had the courage to strike for his

throne, he might readily regain it. He had with him about fifteen

hundred Holsteiners, an excellent body of troops, on whose loyalty he

could fully rely, for they were foreigners in Russia, and their safety

depended on him. At the head of these troops was one of the first

soldiers of the age, Field-Marshal Muenich. The main Russian army was in

Pomerania, under the orders of the czar, if he were alert in giving

them. He had it in view to annihilate the Danes, to show himself a hero

under Frederick of Prussia; surely a handful of conspirators and a few

regiments of malcontents would have but a shallow chance.



Yet Catharine knew the man with whom she dealt. The grain of courage

which would have saved Peter was not to be found in his make-up, and

Muenich strove in vain to induce him to act with manly resolution. A

dozen fancies passed through his mind in an hour. He drew up manifestoes

for a paper campaign. He sent to Oranienbaum for the Holstein troops,

intending to fortify Peterhof, but changed his mind before they arrived.



Muenich now advised him to go to Cronstadt and secure himself in that

stronghold. After some hesitation he agreed, but night had fallen

before the whole party, male and female, set off in a yacht and galley,

as if on a pleasure-trip. It was one o'clock in the morning when they

arrived in sight of the fortress.



"Who goes there?" hailed a sentinel from the ramparts.



"The emperor."



"There is no emperor. Keep off!"



Delay had given Catharine ample time to get ahead of him.



"Do not heed the sentry," cried Muenich. "They will not dare to fire on

you. Land, and all will be safe."



But Peter was below deck, in a panic of fear. The women were shrieking

in terror. Despite Muenich, the vessels were put about. Then the old

soldier, half in despair at this poltroonery, proposed another plan.



"Let us go to Revel, embark on a war-ship, and proceed to Pomerania.

There you can take command of the army. Do this, sire, and within six

weeks St. Petersburg and Russia will be at your feet. I will answer for

this with my head."



But Peter was hopelessly incompetent to act. He would go back to

Oranienbaum. He would negotiate. He arrived there to learn that

Catharine was marching on him at the head of her regiments. On she came,

her cap crowned with oak leaves, her hair floating in the wind. The

soldiers had thrown off their Prussian uniforms and were dressed in

their old garb. They were eager to fight the Holstein foreigners.



No opportunity came for this. A messenger met them with a flag of

truce. Peter had sent an offer to divide the power with Catharine.

Receiving no answer, in an hour he sent an offer to abdicate. He was

brought to Peterhof, where Catharine had halted, and where he cried like

a whipped child on receiving the orders of the new empress and being

forcibly separated from the woman who had ruined him.



A day had changed the fate of an empire. Within little more than six

months from his accession the czar had been hurled from his throne and

his wife had taken his place. Peter was sent under guard to Ropcha, a

lonely spot about twenty miles away, there to stay until accommodations

could be prepared for him in the strong fortress of Schluesselburg.



He was never to reach the latter place. He had abdicated on July 14. On

July 18 Alexis Orlof, covered with sweat and dust, burst into the

dressing-room of the empress. He had a startling story to tell. He had

ridden full speed from Ropcha with the news of the death of Peter III.



The story was that the czar had been found dead in his room. That was

doubtless the case, but that he had been murdered no one had a shadow of

doubt. Yet no one knew, and no one knows to this day, just what had

taken place. Stories of his having been poisoned and strangled have been

told, not without warrant. A detailed account is given of poison being

forced upon him by the Orlofs, who are said to have, on the poison

failing to act, strangled him in a revolting manner by their own hands.

Though this story lacks proof, the body was quite black. "Blood oozed

through the pores, and even through the gloves which covered the hands."

Those who kissed the corpse came away with swollen lips.



That Peter was murdered is almost certain; but that Catharine had

anything to do with it is not so sure. It may have been done by the

conspirators to prevent any reversal of the revolution. Prison-walls

have hidden many a dark event; and we only know that the czar was dead

and Catharine on the throne.