Free Catherine the Great: Portrait of a Woman by Robert K. Massie Page B

teach Peter to dance, a project removed from Staehlin’s responsibility but one particularly close to the empress’s heart, was a spectacular failure. Elizabeth, a consummate dancer, required her nephew to take intensive training in performing quadrilles and minuets. Four times a week, Peter was forced to drop whatever he was doing when the dancing master and a violinist arrivedin his room. The result was disaster. Throughout his life, his dancing was comical.
    For three years, Staehlin kept at his task. That he had little success was not his fault; the mischief had been done earlier when his student’s spirit and interest in learning had been twisted and broken. To Peter, life seemed an oppressive round of instruction in matters about which he cared nothing. In his journal, Staehlin wrote that his pupil was “utterly frivolous” and “altogether unruly.” Nevertheless, Staehlin was the only person in Peter’s young life who made any attempt to understand the boy and handle him with intelligence and sympathy. And, although Peter learned little, he remained on friendly terms with this tutor for the rest of his life.
    During his first year in Russia, Peter’s schooling was affected by his delicate health. In October 1743, Staehlin wrote, “He isextremely weak and has lost the taste for everything that pleased him, even music.” Once on a Saturday, when music was being played in the young duke’s antechamber and a castrato was singing Peter’s favorite air, the boy, lying with his eyes closed said in a barely audible whisper, “Will they stop playing soon?” Elizabeth hurried to his side and burst into tears.
    Even when Peter was not ill, other problems afflicted him. He had no friends; indeed, he knew no one his age. And Brümmer, whose real character had not been seen or understood by Elizabeth, was always nearby. The boy’s nerves, weakened by illness, were constantly threatened by Brümmer’s violent behavior. Staehlin reports that one day Brümmer attacked and began to beat the young duke with his fists. When Staehlin intervened, Peter ran to the window and called for help from the guards in the courtyard. Then he fled to his own room and returned with a sword, shouting at Brümmer, “This will be your last piece of insolence. The next time you dare to raise your hand to me I will run you through with this sword.” Nevertheless, the empress allowed Brümmer to stay. Peter realized that he had gained no respite from persecution by coming to Russia. If anything, his situation was worse: however unhappy he might have been with Brümmer in Kiel, at least he was home.
    Elizabeth was distressed by her nephew’s failure to make any discernable progress. She was not a patient woman; she wanted favorable results, and her nagging anxiety about the existence of Ivan VI drove her to push Peter and his tutors harder. Why, she asked herself, was her nephew such a difficult, unpromising boy? Surely, soon he wouldchange. Sometimes, attempting to calm her anxiety and convince herself that all was well, Elizabeth showered exaggerated praise on her nephew’s progress. “I cannot express in words the pleasure I feel when I see you employing your time so well,” she would say. But as the months went by and there was no improvement, her hopes were sinking.
    Elizabeth’s principal grievance was her nephew’s open dislike of everything Russian. She appointed teachers to instruct him in the Russian language and Orthodox religion and worked tutors and priests overtime to see that he learned. Studying theology two hours a day, he learned to babble bits of Orthodox doctrine, but he despised this new religion and felt nothing but contempt for its bearded priests. Cynically, he told the Austrian and Prussian ambassadors, “One promised priests a great many things that one could not perform.” He approached the Russian language with the same attitude. He was given lessons, but he hated the language and made no effort to speak it