The Other Catherine

The waning of 1998 was marked by the 255th anniversary of Yekaterina Dashkova’s birth and the 215th anniversary of her founding of the Russian Academy. Dashkova’s outstanding achievements and the astonishing ups and downs of her career set her apart as one of the great women in Russian history, alongside her friend, Tsarina Catherine II. 

Yekaterina Romanovna Dashkova is a unique phenomenon in Russian history. Very few women in Russia who held high-ranking posts could match her gifts and talents. “You can find in her nature the elements of all types of temperaments, all ages and all types of characters,” wrote her friend Catherine Wilmont. “I think she would belong both at the head of a state or the army. She was born for a large-scale undertaking and proved it by the sole fact that, when she was 18, she was at the head of a revolution; and then, for 12 years, she was the manager of two academies.”

Dashkova (1743-1810), born Vorontsova, lost her mother when she was just two. Her father, Roman Illarionovich, was an unscrupulous bon-vivant who didn’t care much about bringing up his children and abandoned his younger daughter Yekaterina. Her upbringing was entrusted to her grandmother. Yet, luckily for Yekaterina, her uncle, then chancellor of the Russian crown, soon took over her education, proving an affectionate surrogate parent. 

Yekaterina grew up with her cousin and would later remember: “My uncle didn’t spare money on teachers, so we received a superb education for our times. We spoke four languages, and were especially fluent in French, we were good at dancing, and drawing... We had refined and gentle manners so, quite understandably, we both had the reputation of well-educated girls.”

Yekaterina’s life would change when, in late 1758, she first met Yekaterina Alexeevna, the future empress of Russia. The latter was a Great Countess at the time, but the young Dashkova was captivated by the countess’ mind, by her charming smiles, by how well-read she was and by her knowledge of the French enlighteners. Both immediately felt the similarities in their characters and a mutual attraction.

However, clear-cut distinctions in their characters would later became more evident.  Dashkova had intransigent views, quickly arrived at, and a proud and independent character. The future Catherine the Great, meanwhile, was more cooperative and compromising, which helped her find a common language with any interlocutor, leading them to fall prey to her charming manners and handsome appearance.

Interestingly, Dashkova’s looks are the subject of some debate. The French Enlightener Denis Diderot offered the following description: “Countess Dashkova is not at all pretty; she is short, her forefront is too big and too high, her cheeks are thick and puffy; her eyes are neither big nor small, somewhat too deep into the orbits; her nose is flattened; the mouth is big, the lips are meaty; the teeth are irregular. She has no waist whatsoever, and lacks grace or noblesse; yet she is very affable.” Yet portraits of Dashkova executed by contemporary artists do not at all coincide with Diderot’s description. The portraits feature a good-looking woman with a strong-willed face and piercing look, with neither thick lips nor puffy cheeks nor flattened nose. Yet historians believe Diderot’s description was more accurate. It certainly is likely that the artists may have embellished Dashkova’s looks to please the customer. 

Yekaterina Romanovna married Prince Mikhail Ivanovich Dashkov when she was just 15. The history of their marriage is shrouded in a somewhat romantic yet dramatic mystery. Prince Dashkov, one of the most handsome subjects of Empress Elizabeth, inadvertently paid far too many compliments to Dashkova, which gave her the pretext to tell the chancellor: “Uncle, Prince Dashkov has honored me by asking me to become his wife.” Not having the guts to admit to such a higher-up that he didn’t mean to become his son-in-law, the prince had no other option but to marry the chancellor’s niece. Yet, this somewhat forced marriage proved a happy one (some have said because the couple spent so little time together, due to Mikhail’s military commission). Soon, family ties were strengthened by the birth of a daughter and a son. Yet, their happiness proved short-lived. In 1764, Prince Dashkov died of a fever while serving in Poland.

Prior to Mikhail’s death, the Dashkovs had moved from Moscow to St. Petersburg, which enabled Dashkova to seek further rapprochement with Yekaterina Alexeevna and to witness her being bullied by her freakish husband Pyotr Fedorovich, the crown prince.

On a dark night in December 1761, anticipating the imminent death of Empress Elizaveta Petrovna, Dashkova went to meet countess Yekaterina to offer her services: “Your majesty,” said Dashkova, pointedly, “I could not resist the temptation to find out how I can dissipate the clouds over your head. For God’s sake, trust me, I deserve your trust and hope to deserve it even better. Tell me about your plans. How do you count on guaranteeing your security? The empress has just a few more days – if not hours to live. Can I be of any help to you? Tell me what shall I do?”

Yekaterina Alexeevna did appreciate the spiritual thrust and loyalty of the temperamental visitor, yet, being a shrewd master of intrigues, she was cautious and did not risk disclosing the secret coup d’etat. Nor did she venture to name the officers who were ready to sacrifice themselves to overthrow Pyotr Fedorovich (Peter III), who would succeed the moribund Empress Elizabeth a few days later. So the two future partners parted diplomatically.

The preparation and realization of the coup thus caused a certain cooling and even animosity in the two Yekaterina’s relations. Dashkova attributed the success of the “revolution” to herself, as head of the plot. Yet the new tsarina wrote to one of her earlier favorites, Stanislaw Ponyatovsky, “Everything was under my control, and Dashkova just wants to attribute to herself all the merits, if only because she knew some of the plotters. But she was not kept informed because of her blood ties with the late chancellor, a favorite of Peter III – plus she was just 19-years-old and no one trusted her. Even though she ascertains that everybody came to me via her, all plotters were communicating directly with me over six months before she ever learned their names.”

It is not surprising, therefore, that the tsarina made a point to lose Dashkova’s name in the long list of rank-and-file plotters earmarked for awards. Dashkova, in turn, also had reason to be unhappy with her idol: Catherine the Great had concealed from Dashkova the collaboration of one of her famous favorites, Grigory Orlov (the latter was directly involved in the assassination of Peter III), because Orlov had been at odds with Dashkova for decades.

The quick-tempered Dashkova allowed herself a few acrimonious remarks at the expense of the empress and Orlov, turning him into one of her most vocal enemies. As a result, the empress sent a letter to Dashkova’s husband, Count Dashkov, urging him to calm Dashkova, as “the empress was hearing rumors that Dashkova had allegedly threatened even Catherine the Great.”

In 1763, Dashkova left Russia for Riga (present-day capital of Latvia) to join her husband. But, the following year, Dashkov died, leaving Yekaterina with a burdensome legacy: two children, an estate in complete disarray and a mountain of debt. Dashkova left Riga for the family estate and focused all her energies on making her estate turn a profit. She soon succeeded in this endeavor. So much so that, by 1768, she could afford a trip abroad to provide special treatments for herself and her children.

Having learned her lesson from past quarrels, Countess Dashkova made a point when abroad of meeting with the empress’ correspondent, Denis Diderot, paying refined compliments to Yekaterina Alexeevna (knowing for sure that the French philosopher would inform the empress).

Dashkova’s expectations came true: Diderot wrote the empress about his conversations with Dashkova and when, in 1771, Dashkova returned to St. Petersburg, she received much improved treatment at the Russian court. 

In 1775, Dashkova again went abroad, this time to enroll her son at Edinburgh University. During her second foreign trip, she visited not only France and Switzerland, but also a number of Italian cities, where she enriched her knowledge of fine arts. In June 1782, in Pizza, the countess staged a ball to celebrate the 20th anniversary of Catherine the Great’s reign. The event did not pass unnoticed. When Dashkova returned to St. Petersburg, the empress gave her 2,500 serfs and a gorgeous house in St. Petersburg worth R30,000. Moreover, during a ball, Yekaterina Alexeevna informed Dashkova that she was being appointed director of the Russian Academy of Science and Arts. A perplexed Dashkova later wrote the empress: “When God created me as a woman, he thereby exempted me from the post of the Science Academy director. I believe myself to be ignorant, I didn’t think I would ever in my wildest dreams join a scientific institution ...” 

But the empress knew what she was doing and proved capable of not letting personal preferences get in the way of the interests of the state. Even though the “honeymoon” of their youthful relations was over, the empress wanted the talented and well-educated Dashkova to correct the wrongs of the Academy’s de facto director, I. Shumaher, a German who was reviled by  Russian scientists. When she took the job, Dashkova made it clear that she would give preference to academics’ scientific merit at the expense of political savvy.

Her management of the Academy proved quite successful. In 1786, she presented the court with an upbeat account of her three-years of leadership. She had succeeded in clearing the Academy’s debts and paying off wage arrears. Thanks to her efforts, the academy’s printing shop received new fonts, the library’s collection was replenished, prices for the maps and books published by the Academy were considerably reduced and  unproductive students at the Academy were kicked out. Most importantly, Dashkova required academics to publish their discoveries first in Russia and not to publish results abroad “until the academy was given due credit and until the Russian state could implement those discoveries in practice.”

In 1783, Dashkova founded the Russian Academy. Unlike the Academy of Sciences, which was responsible for natural sciences, the newly established Russian Academy was aimed at developing the humanities – language, grammar, orthographic rules and the publishing of dictionaries. During the inauguration ceremony, Dashkova spoke after the great Russian scientist Mikhail Lomonosov, stressing the expressiveness of the Russian language and set the main task of her academy as “writing a grammar and dictionary of Russia’s language.” 

As a result, Yekaterina Dashkova found herself at the head of two top scientific institutes: she was simultaneously director of the Academy of Sciences and president of the Russian Academy. Shortly after the founding of the Russian Academy, Dashkova launched a journal with the misleading title, Interlocutor of the Lovers of the Russian Language. In fact, the editors saw the magazine as more of a soapbox for public morality, using the journal to rail against the human vices of hypocrisy, bigotry, mischief and disdain.

Unfortunately, Dashkova’s success in science and the arts was marred by failures in her family life. Her relations with her son Pavel and daughter Anastasia left much to be desired. This was partly due to the fact that Dashkova had a despotic character and sought to control every move her grown-up children made. When they freed themselves from the burdensome control of their mother, they ran wild, over-reacting to their austere upbringing with frivolous behavior which saddened and vexed their mother and ruined her health. 

Dashkova’s daughter Anastasia had an empty and shallow soul and low moral standards. She wasted her time on high-society amusements and distractions. Dashkova had married Anastasia off early to an army officer, but the marriage did not last. They divorced and Anastasia went deeply into debt.

Pavel caused her even more pain. He resembled his handsome father and, when he headed for the South to serve Catherine’s favorite, Grigory Potemkin, he gained a reputation for debauchery. In Kiev, he met the daughter of the merchant Alferov (a lower class) and married her without even bothering to inform his mother. Dashkova found out about the marriage from third parties two months after the fact. This was a crushing blow, and it filled Dashkova with feelings of anxiety, solitude and pessimism. She tried to drown her sorrows in her academic work, but the inspiration was no longer there.

It is noteworthy that the empress had a mixed reaction to the ups and downs in Dashkova’s private life. On the one hand, Yekaterina Alexeevna was not vindictive and didn’t rejoice over Dashkova’s disasters. Nor did she show excessive compassion or sympathy. On April 23, 1789, Imperial Secretary A. Khrapovitsky recorded that the empress said of her former friend: “When I was talking to countess Dashkova, I paid tribute to her knowledge and intelligence, which was superior to many men. And yet I was wondering how it is that no one loved her, including her daughter, who, despite all her financial problems ... refused to live with her mother. I also feel that the countess was exaggerating the merits of her son, who was too much of a simpleton, and a drunkard on top of it.”

In 1795, the empress dealt a more painful blow to Dashkova’s self-esteem after the latter published a piece of fiction by Yakov Knyazhnin, Vadim Novgorodsky. Dashkova’s foes informed the empress about the book, characterizing it as dangerous, undermining the basic foundations of the Russian state. In fact, the tragedy was an innocuous play. The reports fell on fertile soil, however, and the furious empress charged Prosecutor General Samoilov with issuing a reprimand to Dashkova for publishing the work, which the empress said she considered even more dangerous than Radishchev’s Trip from St. Petersburg to Moscow. During their personal encounter, a loud argument broke out between the two Yekaterinas, prompting Dashkova to tender her resignation and ask the empress to allow her to distance herself from the court. During the farewell meeting, the empress didn’t utter a word of gratitude for Dashkova’s ardent public service, offering a simple: “I wish you bon voyage!”

Yet, despite the quarrel, Dashkova continued to treat the empress with admiration and veneration up until the empress’ death in 1796. This was obvious from Dashkova’s Memoirs. The empress’ comments were child’s play compared to the tragedy and humiliations Dashkova endured from Paul I, Catherine’s son and successor. 

Paul, unlike his mother, “recognized” Dashkova’s involvement in the plot against his father, Peter III. As tsar, he took sweet revenge on Dashkova, barring her from living in her favorite village, Troitskoye (in the Moscow region), and ordering her to settle in a remote estate in the Nizhny Novgorod region. An already sick woman, she had to go into exile and spend her days in a peasant’s izba, without the comforts she was used to. Dashkova sent a petition to the emperor, asking him to show clemency, but Paul I, didn’t even bother opening the envelope. What is more, he ordered that paper and ink be taken from her and that she be barred from communicating with the outside world. 

Only at the end of her life did she obtain permission to live in Troitskoye, where she immersed herself in farming and writing her memoirs. In the end, she survived both her idol Catherine the Great and her nemesis Paul I, who himself fell victim to a coup d’etat. Dashkova passed away in 1810, during the reign of Tsar Alexander I, a forgotten heroine of decades long past. 

Dashkova’s path through Russian history was certainly strewn with more thorns than roses. Yet, her achievements in disseminating science and education and in strengthening the Academies of Science and Arts, places her among the most outstanding Russian state personalities of the 18th century. The New Russia recently paid her homage: a private university for the humanities in Moscow was founded in the early part of this decade and named for Yekaterina Dashkova. A just though belated tribute to Russia’s other great Catherine.  RL

Professor Nikolai Ivanovich Pavlenko is a Doctor of History and member of the Russian Union of Writers. He is the author of several books in Russian on 17th-18th century history, including Peter the First (1975) and Peter the Great (1984). His article on Grigory Potemkin appeared in the May 1998 issue of Russian Life.