herself.
Frederick immediately thought of the three youngest daughters of the Landgrave of Hesse-Darmstadt. But, unable to choose which one, he decided to send all three princesses to Russia for Catherine’s inspection and Paul’s approval. The grand duke was immediately taken by the eldest, Wilhelmina, who also captured the fancy of his best friend Andrei Razumovsky as he accompanied her by ship from Germany. For Wilhelmina, Paul represented the prize—future sovereignty over Russia—but his person left much lacking. “The distinction of which the heir to the throne has made her the object does not seem to be disagreeable to her,” Wilhelmina’s mother wrote to the empress, with a notable lack of enthusiasm.
Like young Princess Sophia had all those years ago, Wilhelmina was to be thoroughly Russianized, converted to Orthodoxy, and rechristened Natalia. She would also cheat on her husband with his best friend Razumovsky, although, unlike her mother-in-law, she wouldn’t wait nearly a decade to stray. And it wouldn’t be from a spouse who despised her.
Paul was in fact smitten with his bride; Catherine not so much. “The Grand Duchess loves extreme in all things,” the empress wrote to her friend Friedrich Melchoir Grimm. “Shewill listen to no advice, and I see in her neither charm, nor wit, nor reason.” Natalia spent most of her time either conspiring with her husband against his mother, or carrying on with his friend. And to help facilitate those extramarital romps, the two lovers often dosed Paul with a little opium to put him to sleep, and, as the Count d’Allonville put it, “reduce their trio to a single tête-à-tete.”
The heir to the throne appeared to be the only one at court oblivious to his wife’s infidelity. But any thought Catherine may have had in squelching the affair evaporated when Natalia became pregnant. She was carrying the future sovereign, even if the child may not have been Paul’s. In the end, it didn’t matter, as Natalia died while delivering a stillborn son. Her cuckolded husband went mad with grief, smashing the furniture in his apartments and threatening to hurl himself out a window. He even refused to have Natalia buried because he believed she might still be alive.
The empress finally put an end to this nonsense when she told her son the cold truth about his dead spouse and presented as proof the love letters from Razumovsky that she found in Natalia’s desk. Thus, having crushed Paul’s sentiments toward his beloved wife, or at least confused them, the empress presented him with the plans she had for a replacement.
“I have wasted no time,” she wrote to Grimm. “At once, I put the irons in the fire to make good the loss, and by so doing I have succeeded in dissipating the deep sorrow that overwhelmed us.”
The German princess Catherine had in mind to sacrifice to her son was sixteen-year-old Sophia Dorothea of Württemberg, with Frederick the Great once again serving as matchmaker. Paul was sent off to Berlin to inspect his potentialmate, and, fortunately for his mother, who hoped to strengthen ties with Prussia, he instantly fell for the girl. “I found my intended to be such as I could have dreamed of,” Paul wrote to his mother. “She is tall, shapely, intelligent, quick-witted, and not at all shy.” * 1 And the fact that Sophia Dorothea came recommended by Frederick only added to her luster, for Paul, like Peter III, idolized the Prussian monarch. King Frederick, on the other hand, was less than impressed by the Russian heir.
“He seemed proud, haughty, and violent, which made those who knew Russia apprehend that he would have no little trouble maintaining himself on the throne,” the king wrote of Paul. “He would have to fear a fate like his unfortunate father.”
On September 26, 1776—less than a year after his first wife’s burial—Paul married Sophia Dorothea, who, after her required conversion to Orthodoxy, was given the name Maria
Frederick immediately thought of the three youngest daughters of the Landgrave of Hesse-Darmstadt. But, unable to choose which one, he decided to send all three princesses to Russia for Catherine’s inspection and Paul’s approval. The grand duke was immediately taken by the eldest, Wilhelmina, who also captured the fancy of his best friend Andrei Razumovsky as he accompanied her by ship from Germany. For Wilhelmina, Paul represented the prize—future sovereignty over Russia—but his person left much lacking. “The distinction of which the heir to the throne has made her the object does not seem to be disagreeable to her,” Wilhelmina’s mother wrote to the empress, with a notable lack of enthusiasm.
Like young Princess Sophia had all those years ago, Wilhelmina was to be thoroughly Russianized, converted to Orthodoxy, and rechristened Natalia. She would also cheat on her husband with his best friend Razumovsky, although, unlike her mother-in-law, she wouldn’t wait nearly a decade to stray. And it wouldn’t be from a spouse who despised her.
Paul was in fact smitten with his bride; Catherine not so much. “The Grand Duchess loves extreme in all things,” the empress wrote to her friend Friedrich Melchoir Grimm. “Shewill listen to no advice, and I see in her neither charm, nor wit, nor reason.” Natalia spent most of her time either conspiring with her husband against his mother, or carrying on with his friend. And to help facilitate those extramarital romps, the two lovers often dosed Paul with a little opium to put him to sleep, and, as the Count d’Allonville put it, “reduce their trio to a single tête-à-tete.”
The heir to the throne appeared to be the only one at court oblivious to his wife’s infidelity. But any thought Catherine may have had in squelching the affair evaporated when Natalia became pregnant. She was carrying the future sovereign, even if the child may not have been Paul’s. In the end, it didn’t matter, as Natalia died while delivering a stillborn son. Her cuckolded husband went mad with grief, smashing the furniture in his apartments and threatening to hurl himself out a window. He even refused to have Natalia buried because he believed she might still be alive.
The empress finally put an end to this nonsense when she told her son the cold truth about his dead spouse and presented as proof the love letters from Razumovsky that she found in Natalia’s desk. Thus, having crushed Paul’s sentiments toward his beloved wife, or at least confused them, the empress presented him with the plans she had for a replacement.
“I have wasted no time,” she wrote to Grimm. “At once, I put the irons in the fire to make good the loss, and by so doing I have succeeded in dissipating the deep sorrow that overwhelmed us.”
The German princess Catherine had in mind to sacrifice to her son was sixteen-year-old Sophia Dorothea of Württemberg, with Frederick the Great once again serving as matchmaker. Paul was sent off to Berlin to inspect his potentialmate, and, fortunately for his mother, who hoped to strengthen ties with Prussia, he instantly fell for the girl. “I found my intended to be such as I could have dreamed of,” Paul wrote to his mother. “She is tall, shapely, intelligent, quick-witted, and not at all shy.” * 1 And the fact that Sophia Dorothea came recommended by Frederick only added to her luster, for Paul, like Peter III, idolized the Prussian monarch. King Frederick, on the other hand, was less than impressed by the Russian heir.
“He seemed proud, haughty, and violent, which made those who knew Russia apprehend that he would have no little trouble maintaining himself on the throne,” the king wrote of Paul. “He would have to fear a fate like his unfortunate father.”
On September 26, 1776—less than a year after his first wife’s burial—Paul married Sophia Dorothea, who, after her required conversion to Orthodoxy, was given the name Maria
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