Free Great Catherine by 1943- Carolly Erickson Page A

dressed her herself earlier that morning, in a gown which was the exact duplicate of her own gown of crimson brocade trimmed in silver. The two women had grown close, Elizabeth treated Sophie more and more like her own daughter and kept her nearby for much of each day. Since Sophie's illness they had traveled together, eaten many meals together, attended balls and concerts and plays together. Sophie viewed the empress at that time "as a divinity," she later wrote in her memoirs, "exempt from all fault." She had witnessed Elizabeth's sudden anger and savage capriciousness at first hand, yet she basked in the older woman's warmth and maternal tenderness. Her respect and gratitude knew no bounds; she was still somewhat timid toward Elizabeth yet her affection for her was strong.
    She began her long recitation, striving to keep her voice audible and distinct, taking pains with her pronunciation following her tutor's instructions. Johanna, standing in the recesses of the chapel, watched her daughter with pride. "From the moment she entered the church until the end of the ceremony," Johanna wrote to Christian August, "she carried herself with the utmost nobleness and dignity. Even if she had not been my daughter I would have been forced to admire her."
    Sophie's strong, low-pitched voice carried well in the vast chapel, filling every fold and niche in the high stone walls with its resonance and echoing among the painted pillars. A huge crowd had gathered, and many who listened to the voice were moved to tears.
    When Sophie finally came to the end of her recitation, she faced her godparents, who conferred on her her baptismal name, the

    son
    name by which she would from then on be known: Catherine Alekseyevna.
    Sophie, the Lutheran Princess of Anhalt-Zerbst, had become Catherine of Russia, a daughter of the Orthodox church. She had made her choice, ensuring the displeasure of her father for the sake of pleasing her new parent, the empress.
    And Elizabeth did seem very like a mother to her, overwhelming her with attention and solicitude, showering her with gowns and jewels, treating her with familial tenderness and affection. Her conversion was pleasing to Elizabeth, and so was her new name—which was also the name of Elizabeth's mother. Catherine she would proudly be from now on, as Catherine and not Sophie she would become betrothed to Peter.
    That night the empress, with Catherine and Peter, were lodged inside the Kremlin, the immense white-walled fortress that dominated Moscow. To Catherine and her servants was assigned a suite of rooms high in an upper story of the old brick Terem Palace, abandoned for decades and now in a sorry state of disrepair yet made habitable for this one important night, the eve of Catherine and Peter's betrothal. If Catherine felt any qualms she did not remember them years later, when she recalled the experience in her memoirs. What she remembered was the view from the small windows, a panoramic view of the fortress and its many golden-domed churches and state buildings, and the city stretching away to the distant hills. She was so high that the people walking along the Kremlin wall far below were hard for her to distinguish, they looked like ants marching in winding columns toward unseen destinations.
    It was the end of June, the sun lingered above the horizon until late in the evening and darkness seemed never to fall. Catherine, the center of all concern and attention, about to exchange solemn betrothal vows with the heir to the Russian throne, must have been wakeful with excitement. Besides, she had just concluded a taxing ceremony and had not eaten in three days; her fast may well have heightened her air of nervous expectation.

    The following morning messengers arrived bearing gifts for Catherine. First the empress sent her a portrait miniature of herself in a diamond-studded frame, and shortly afterwards a miniature of Peter was delivered in a similar costly frame. The empress, resplendent in