Potemkin

 

  POTEMKIN

  Part I: The Rise

  Chapter 1. The Birth of a Titan

**Chizhovo Village, Smolensk Province. September 24, 1739.**

The autumn wind howled across the endless Russian steppe, bending the tall grass and rattling the shutters of the wooden manor house. Inside, by the light of flickering candles, Daria Vasilievna Potemkina screamed in the agony of childbirth. Thunder rolled overhead as if nature itself sensed that someone extraordinary was about to enter the world.

"Push, mistress, push!" urged the midwife, an ancient woman whose weathered hands had delivered half the children in Smolensk Province.

At the stroke of midnight, as rain lashed the windows, a child's cry pierced the darkness. The boy who would one day reshape the map of Europe had been born.

Alexander Vasilievich Potemkin, retired colonel and master of the modest estate, took his newborn son in his trembling hands. The child was unusually large, with a powerful cry that seemed to demand attention from the entire world.

"What shall we name him?" whispered Daria, exhausted but radiant with joy.

"Grigory," replied Alexander firmly. "After Saint Gregory the Theologian. May God grant that our son serves the faith and the fatherland with equal devotion."

The old midwife crossed herself as she looked at the infant. Something in those dark, alert eyes troubled her.

"This one will not live a quiet life," she muttered. "Mark my words – he'll either rise to great heights or fall into great depths. There's no middle ground for such as him."

How prophetic those words would prove to be.

**Chizhovo. 1745.**

Six-year-old Grigory Potemkin was unlike other children. While his peers played simple games, he devoured books with an insatiable hunger. His father's modest library – volumes on history, geography, military science – became his playground.

"Papa," the boy asked one evening, studying a map of the Russian Empire, "why is our country so big?"

Alexander Vasilievich smiled. His son's questions grew more complex each day.

"Because our ancestors were not content with small things, Grisha. They dreamed of great deeds and achieved them through service to the Tsar and God."

"And I? Will I serve the Tsar?"

"If you prove worthy. Service is not a right but an honor that must be earned."

Young Grigory traced the borders of the empire with his finger, from the Baltic Sea to the Pacific Ocean. Even then, something told him these boundaries were not final.

The boy's education was entrusted to the village priest, Father Sergius, a learned man who had studied at the Kiev Seminary. He immediately recognized his pupil's exceptional abilities.

"Your son has a remarkable mind," he told Alexander Vasilievich. "He grasps Latin as if it were his native tongue, and his memory is phenomenal. But..."

"But what, Father?"

"He's restless. He needs challenges that our village cannot provide. He should study in Moscow, at the University."

Alexander pondered this advice long and hard. Sending his son to Moscow meant considerable expense and separation from family. But he could see that Grigory was outgrowing the provinces.

**Moscow. 1755.**

Sixteen-year-old Grigory Potemkin arrived in Moscow on a hot July day, carrying all his possessions in a single trunk. The ancient capital overwhelmed the provincial youth with its size, noise, and splendor.

Moscow University, founded just that year by Mikhail Lomonosov, was the pride of Russian education. Here gathered the brightest minds from across the empire, and competition was fierce.

"Gentlemen," Professor Barsov addressed the new students, "you are the future of Russia. Some of you will become ministers, others – generals, still others – scholars. But all must remember: true nobility lies not in birth but in service to the fatherland."

Grigory absorbed these words like a sponge. He studied with manic intensity – philosophy, mathematics, history, languages. His professors marveled at his abilities, but were troubled by his character.

"Potemkin has a brilliant mind," noted Professor Schaden, "but he's ambitious beyond measure. Such ambition can lead to great achievements or great disasters."

The young man indeed stood out among his peers. Tall, handsome, with piercing dark eyes, he naturally drew attention. But it was not just his appearance – there was something magnetic about his personality, a sense that he was destined for extraordinary things.

In his second year, Grigory befriended Ivan Shuvalov, nephew of the influential court favorite. Through him, he first glimpsed the world of high politics and court intrigue.

"Grigory," Shuvalov said over wine one evening, "you're wasting your talents in books. Real life happens at court, in palaces, on battlefields."

"And how does one reach such heights?"

"Through connections, talent, and luck. You have the first two – now you need the third."

**St. Petersburg. 1760.**

The opportunity came unexpectedly. Empress Elizabeth Petrovna announced a competition for the best essay on natural philosophy. The winner would receive a gold medal and invitation to the capital.

Grigory wrote with passionate intensity about the greatness of the Russian Empire and its scientific potential. His essay combined profound erudition with patriotic fervor – exactly what the Empress wanted to hear.

The gold medal ceremony took place in the Winter Palace. Twenty-one-year-old Potemkin found himself in the throne room, surrounded by the highest nobility of the empire.

Empress Elizabeth, though aging and ill, retained traces of her legendary beauty. She personally presented the medal to the young scholar.

"You write beautifully about Russia's greatness," she said. "Now prove that you can serve it with deeds, not just words."

"I live only to serve Your Majesty and the fatherland," replied Grigory, kneeling before the throne.

The Empress studied the young man with interest. Something in his bearing, his confidence, his burning ambition reminded her of her own youth.

"Remain in St. Petersburg," she commanded. "We shall find suitable employment for you."

Thus began Grigory Potemkin's career at court. He was assigned to the Horse Guards Regiment as a cornet – a modest beginning, but it placed him at the center of imperial power.

**St. Petersburg. Horse Guards Regiment. 1761.**

Life in the Guards opened new horizons for the provincial youth. Here he encountered representatives of the highest aristocracy, learned the subtle arts of court intrigue, and honed his skills as both soldier and courtier.

His captain, Prince Volkonsky, recognized the newcomer's exceptional qualities.

"Potemkin," he said after observing him for several months, "you're not an ordinary officer. You have the makings of a great man. But remember – at court, talent without caution is dangerous."

Grigory absorbed this lesson. He learned to be simultaneously bold and prudent, ambitious and patient. His natural intelligence was supplemented by practical wisdom.

When Empress Elizabeth died in December 1761, the young officer witnessed the chaos of palace succession. Peter III, the new Emperor, was unpopular with the Guards and lasted only six months on the throne.

The coup that brought Catherine II to power in July 1762 became Grigory's first lesson in high politics. He saw how quickly fortunes could change, how a small group of determined people could alter the fate of an empire.

On the night of the coup, Cornet Potemkin was among the Guards officers who swore allegiance to the new Empress. Catherine, still young and beautiful despite her thirty-three years, made a powerful impression on the ambitious young man.

"Gentlemen," she addressed the assembled officers, "I count on your loyalty and service. Together we shall make Russia great!"

Grigory felt his heart race. This woman, this remarkable woman, embodied everything he dreamed of achieving. Power, intelligence, determination, vision – all combined in one person.

From that moment, his fate was sealed. He would serve Catherine II with all the passion and talent he possessed. He would help her become not just Empress, but Catherine the Great.

But first, he had to prove himself worthy of such a destiny.

  Chapter 2. First Steps to Glory

**St. Petersburg. Winter Palace. 1762.**

The new Empress Catherine II worked eighteen hours a day, trying to master the complexities of governing the vast Russian Empire. At thirty-three, she understood that her hold on power was precarious – a German princess who had seized the throne from her own husband needed to prove her legitimacy through achievements.

Cornet Potemkin observed the young Empress during ceremonial occasions and felt growing admiration for her intelligence and determination. Unlike many court beauties, Catherine possessed a sharp mind and genuine interest in state affairs.

"She's not just beautiful," he confided to his friend Lieutenant Bibikov, "she's brilliant. Such a woman could truly make Russia great."

"Careful, Grigory," warned Bibikov. "The Empress already has a favorite – Grigory Orlov. He's not a man to cross lightly."

Indeed, Grigory Orlov and his brothers controlled access to the Empress and wielded enormous influence. But Potemkin sensed that their reign would not last forever. Men who won power through a single coup rarely knew how to hold it permanently.

The opportunity to distinguish himself came during the Russo-Turkish War of 1768-1774. Russia's conflict with the Ottoman Empire required capable officers, and Potemkin requested assignment to active duty.

**The Danube Front. 1769.**

War revealed Potemkin's true nature. The bookish young man transformed into an energetic and capable officer who combined personal courage with strategic thinking.

Under the command of Field Marshal Rumyantsev, he participated in several major battles. His superiors noted his unusual combination of bravery and intelligence.

"Lieutenant Potemkin," observed General Weissman after the Battle of Larga, "fights like a lion but thinks like a chess player. Such officers are rare."

But it was at the siege of Bender that Grigory truly distinguished himself. When the assault stalled under heavy Turkish fire, he volunteered to lead a night attack on the enemy's flank.

"Gentlemen," he addressed his men before the attack, "we fight not just for victory, but for the glory of Russian arms. Follow me!"

The attack succeeded brilliantly. Potemkin's detachment captured a key bastion, allowing the main force to storm the fortress. For this feat, he was promoted to colonel and awarded the Order of St. Anna.

More importantly, detailed reports of his exploits reached St. Petersburg. Empress Catherine, who followed the war's progress closely, began to notice the name "Potemkin" in dispatches.

**St. Petersburg. 1772.**

Returning from the war as a decorated hero, Colonel Potemkin found court life changed. The Orlov brothers' influence was waning, and new favorites were emerging around the Empress.

Catherine herself had matured during the four years of war. Success in foreign policy strengthened her position, and domestic reforms were bearing fruit. But those close to her noticed a certain loneliness – the burden of absolute power was taking its toll.

At a reception celebrating the Treaty of Kuchuk-Kainarji, Potemkin finally had the opportunity for extended conversation with his sovereign.

"Colonel," Catherine addressed him, "I've read reports of your service. You've proven yourself a worthy son of the fatherland."

"Your Majesty's praise is my greatest reward," replied Grigory, bowing deeply.

"Tell me, what do you think of our southern acquisitions? How should we develop these new lands?"

The question revealed Catherine's genuine interest in his opinion. Potemkin spoke passionately about the potential of the southern steppes, the need for new cities and ports, the possibilities for trade and colonization.

"Interesting thoughts," the Empress noted. "We must discuss this further."

This conversation marked the beginning of their closer relationship. Catherine began inviting Potemkin to private audiences, seeking his advice on various matters.

**The Hermitage. Catherine's Private Study. 1773.**

The Empress's private study in the Hermitage was her sanctuary, where she could drop the mask of absolute monarch and simply be herself. Here she read Voltaire and Diderot, worked on her "Nakaz" legal reforms, and conducted the most confidential conversations.

"Grigory Alexandrovich," she said during one of their meetings, "you interest me. Most courtiers tell me what they think I want to hear. You speak your mind."

"Truth serves Your Majesty better than flattery," replied Potemkin.

"Even when truth is uncomfortable?"

"Especially then. A ruler surrounded only by yes-men is like a ship without a compass."

Catherine smiled. This man's intellectual honesty refreshed her after years of court sycophancy.

"Then tell me truthfully – what do you think of my reign so far?"

Potemkin considered his words carefully. This was a test, and his future depended on the answer.

"Your Majesty has achieved much in a short time. The war is won, legal reforms are underway, education is expanding. But..."

"But?"

"But Russia's greatest potential lies in the south. The steppes between the Dnieper and the Don could feed millions, but they remain empty. The Black Sea could become a Russian lake, but we have no fleet there."

"And how would you realize this potential?"

"By creating a new region from scratch. New cities, new ports, new roads. Attract settlers with land grants and tax exemptions. Build a fleet to dominate the Black Sea."

Catherine listened with growing interest. This was exactly the kind of bold thinking she needed.

"Such an undertaking would require enormous resources and extraordinary leadership."

"Russia has the resources, Your Majesty. As for leadership..." Potemkin met her gaze directly. "I would consider it the honor of my life to serve in such a capacity."

The Empress studied this remarkable man who combined military prowess with visionary thinking. Perhaps he was exactly what she needed for her grand designs.

  Chapter 3. The Favorite's Rise

**St. Petersburg. Winter Palace. 1774.**

The relationship between Empress Catherine and Colonel Potemkin deepened rapidly during the winter of 1773-74. What began as intellectual discussions evolved into something far more profound and dangerous.

Catherine was forty-four, at the height of her powers as both ruler and woman. Potemkin was thirty-four, handsome, brilliant, and utterly devoted to her. The attraction between them was magnetic and undeniable.

"Grigory," she said during one of their private meetings, "you've become indispensable to me. Not just as an advisor, but as... a friend."

The word "friend" carried deeper meaning in the context of 18th-century court relationships. Both understood what was happening between them, but neither dared speak it openly.

The existing favorite, Grigory Orlov, sensed the shift in imperial affections. He had grown complacent during his years of power and failed to notice how his influence was slipping away.

"Your Majesty," Orlov said during a council meeting, "this Potemkin is becoming too bold. His proposals for southern development are fantastical and expensive."

"I find his proposals thoughtful and well-reasoned," Catherine replied coolly. "Perhaps you should study them more carefully before dismissing them."

The public rebuke stunned Orlov. For the first time in years, his opinion had been contradicted by the Empress in front of other ministers.

**The Hermitage. February 1774.**

The decisive moment came during a private dinner in Catherine's apartments. They were alone except for trusted servants, and conversation flowed freely over wine and delicate French cuisine.

"Tell me about your childhood," Catherine said suddenly. "I want to understand what made you the man you are."

Potemkin spoke of his modest origins in Smolensk Province, his hunger for knowledge, his dreams of serving something greater than himself. Catherine listened with fascination – his story was so different from the court aristocrats who surrounded her.

"And what do you dream of now?" she asked.

"Of serving you, Your Majesty. Of helping you make Russia truly great. Of..." He hesitated.

"Of what?"

"Of being worthy of your trust and... affection."

The word hung in the air between them. Catherine rose from her chair and walked to the window, where snow was falling on the Neva River.

"Grigory," she said quietly, "do you understand what you're saying?"

"I understand completely. I'm saying that I love you – not just as my Empress, but as a woman. I would give my life for you."

Catherine turned to face him, and he saw tears in her eyes.

"And I love you," she whispered. "God help me, I love you more than is wise or safe."

They came together in an embrace that changed the course of Russian history. The Empress and her subject, the German princess and the Smolensk nobleman, the ruler and the ruled – all boundaries dissolved in that moment of passion.

**Spring 1774. The New Order.**

The change in Catherine's affections soon became apparent to the entire court. Potemkin was promoted to General-Major and given apartments in the Winter Palace. He began attending all important meetings and his advice carried enormous weight.

The Orlov brothers recognized their eclipse with varying degrees of grace. Alexei Orlov accepted the situation philosophically, but Grigory burned with jealousy and resentment.

"This provincial upstart has bewitched the Empress," he complained to his supporters. "Russia is ruled by a madwoman and her pet favorite."

Such words were dangerous, bordering on treason. But Orlov's wounded pride overcame his judgment.

The confrontation was inevitable. It came at a court reception in May 1774, when both favorites were present.

"General Potemkin," Orlov said loudly enough for others to hear, "I hear you have ambitious plans for the southern provinces."

"Indeed I do," replied Potemkin calmly.

"And where will you find the money for these fantasies? The treasury is not bottomless."

"A wise ruler invests in the future, not just the present. The southern steppes could become Russia's granary and gateway to world trade."

"Pretty words," sneered Orlov. "But I prefer facts to dreams."

"Then perhaps you should acquaint yourself with the facts before offering opinions," Potemkin responded coolly.

The insult was subtle but unmistakable. Orlov's face reddened with anger.

"Are you questioning my competence?"

"I'm questioning your familiarity with the subject under discussion."

The tension in the room was palpable. Everyone present understood they were witnessing the clash between the old favorite and the new.

Catherine, who had been observing silently, finally intervened.

"Gentlemen," she said with icy authority, "such debates are better conducted in private. General Potemkin, please attend me in my study. We have matters to discuss."

The public preference was unmistakable. Orlov's reign as favorite was officially over.

**Summer 1774. The Consolidation of Power.**

With Orlov's influence broken, Potemkin moved quickly to consolidate his position. But unlike previous favorites who focused on personal enrichment, he had grander ambitions.

"Your Majesty," he said during one of their strategic planning sessions, "I propose a comprehensive program for developing the southern territories."

He spread maps across Catherine's desk, showing the vast steppes between the Dnieper and the Don.

"Here," he pointed to the mouth of the Dnieper, "we'll build a city and naval base. Ships constructed there can sail directly into the Black Sea."

"And the name for this city?"

"Kherson, after the ancient Greek colony in Crimea. We're not barbarian conquerors, but heirs to great civilizations."

Catherine studied the plans with growing excitement. This was nation-building on a grand scale.

"And settlers? These lands are virtually empty."

"We'll attract colonists from across Europe. Germans seeking religious freedom, Greeks fleeing Turkish oppression, Russians wanting land of their own. Promise them religious tolerance, tax exemptions, and personal freedom – they'll come by the thousands."

"The cost will be enormous."

"The returns will be even greater. Within twenty years, this region will produce enough grain to feed half of Europe. The Black Sea will become a Russian lake."

Catherine walked to the window and gazed out at the Neva, but her mind's eye saw the southern seas that Potemkin described.

"Very well," she decided. "You shall have extraordinary powers to develop these territories. But remember – the world will be watching. Success will make you the greatest statesman in Europe. Failure..."

"I will not fail, Your Majesty," Potemkin said with quiet confidence. "This I swear to you."

The die was cast. The provincial colonel who had caught an Empress's eye was about to become one of the most powerful men in Europe, the architect of a new civilization on the Russian steppes.

But first, he would have to survive the deadly intrigues of those who envied his meteoric rise to power.

  Chapter 4. The Intriguer's Art

**St. Petersburg. Count Panin's Residence. Autumn 1774.**

Count Nikita Panin, Catherine's foreign minister and one of the most influential figures in the Russian government, paced nervously in his study. The rapid rise of Potemkin threatened the established order at court, and Panin saw his own influence waning.

"Gentlemen," he addressed a small gathering of senior officials, "we must discuss the Potemkin situation."

Present were General Rumyantsev, hero of the Turkish war; Count Zakhar Chernyshev, the war minister; and several other grandees who had grown uncomfortable with the new favorite's growing power.

"The man is talented, I'll grant you that," said Rumyantsev, "but his influence over Her Majesty is becoming excessive. No single person should wield such power."

"Exactly my concern," agreed Panin. "The Empress listens only to him now. The rest of us might as well be furniture."

Count Chernyshev, a crafty old courtier, leaned forward conspiratorially.

"Perhaps it's time to remind Her Majesty of the dangers of placing too much trust in one individual. History is full of favorites who betrayed their sovereign's confidence."

The men exchanged meaningful glances. They were not plotting rebellion – that would be treason. But they were certainly plotting to undermine Potemkin's position.

**Winter Palace. Catherine's Private Apartments. Same Evening.**

Unaware of the intrigue brewing against him, Potemkin was with Catherine in her private study, discussing plans for the southern territories. Maps covered every surface, marked with projected cities, roads, and fortifications.

"The key is Crimea," he explained, pointing to the peninsula. "As long as the Tatars can raid our settlers from there, the region will never be secure."

"But Crimea is independent under our treaty with Turkey," Catherine noted.

"Independence is relative, Your Majesty. The right combination of pressure and incentives could bring the Khanate into our orbit."

Catherine studied her lover with admiration. His strategic thinking operated on multiple levels simultaneously – military, political, economic, diplomatic.

"And if the Turks object?"

"They'll object regardless of what we do. Better to act from strength than weakness."

"You make it sound simple."

"Simple in concept, complex in execution. But that's what makes it interesting."

Catherine laughed. "You speak of annexing a kingdom as if it were a chess game."

"Politics is a chess game, my dear Catherine. The difference is that the stakes are human lives and national destinies."

The use of her name rather than title indicated the intimacy of their relationship. In private, they were lovers first, sovereign and subject second.

**The English Club. December 1774.**

The plotting against Potemkin intensified at the exclusive English Club, where St. Petersburg's elite gathered to drink, gamble, and gossip. Count Panin used these informal settings to spread doubts about the favorite's loyalty and competence.

"I hear Potemkin wants to make himself a prince," he whispered to General Betsky over cards.

"A prince? On what grounds?"

"Service to the Crown, presumably. Though some say he has... other services in mind."

The innuendo was clear. Everyone knew about Potemkin's relationship with the Empress, but speaking of it directly would be dangerous.

Prince Volkonsky, who had served as Potemkin's captain in the Guards, defended his former subordinate.

"Say what you will about his ambitions, but the man has genuine talent. His plans for the south are brilliant."

"Talent without loyalty is dangerous," Panin replied. "And how loyal can a man be when his power depends entirely on a woman's affections?"

Such poison, dropped skillfully into the right ears, began to work its effect. Doubt and suspicion spread through the court like a slow-acting virus.

**Winter Palace. January 1775.**

The campaign against Potemkin reached Catherine's ears through various channels. At first, she dismissed the whispers as ordinary court jealousy. But their persistence began to trouble her.

"Grigory," she said during one of their private dinners, "some people are questioning your loyalty to me and to Russia."

Potemkin set down his wine glass and looked at her directly.

"What kind of questions?"

"They suggest that your power depends entirely on personal influence rather than merit. That you might... abandon me if circumstances changed."

"And what do you think?"

Catherine hesitated. The doubt in her voice cut Potemkin more deeply than any enemy's blade.

"I think... I think I need to be certain of where your loyalties lie."

Potemkin rose from his chair and walked to the window. Outside, snow was falling on the frozen Neva.

"Catherine," he said quietly, "do you remember what I told you the night we first declared our love?"

"You said you would give your life for me."

"I meant it then, and I mean it now. My loyalty to you is not based on position or profit. It's based on love – love for you, and love for Russia."

He turned to face her.

"But if you doubt me, put me to the test. Give me the most difficult assignment you can imagine. Let me prove myself through deeds, not words."

Catherine felt ashamed of her momentary weakness. Looking at this proud, passionate man, she knew her doubts were unfounded.

"I'm sorry, Grigory. The whispers of small men should not affect my judgment of great ones."

"Then prove it. Give me the southern governorship. Let me show Russia and the world what we can accomplish together."

It was a bold request – the governorship of New Russia would make him one of the most powerful men in the empire. But Catherine understood that half-measures would not silence his critics.

"Very well," she decided. "You shall be Governor-General of New Russia, with extraordinary powers to develop the territory as you see fit."

The appointment sent shockwaves through the court. Potemkin's enemies realized they had underestimated both his abilities and Catherine's faith in him.

**Count Panin's Study. February 1775.**

The failure of their campaign against Potemkin left the conspirators frustrated and fearful. They had expected to destroy his influence but had only made him more powerful.

"We've created a monster," Panin complained to his allies. "Now he has an entire region to rule as his personal kingdom."

"Perhaps that's for the best," suggested Count Chernyshev pragmatically. "If he succeeds, Russia benefits. If he fails, he'll destroy himself without our help."

"And if he succeeds too well?" asked Rumyantsev.

The question hung in the air. They all understood the implication – a man who could create a thriving region from empty steppes might well aspire to even greater power.

But for now, they could only wait and watch as Potemkin departed for the south to begin his greatest challenge.

**The Road South. March 1775.**

As his carriage rolled across the vast Russian landscape toward his new domain, Potemkin reflected on the path that had brought him to this moment. From provincial childhood to imperial favor, from modest cornet to Governor-General – it had been a remarkable journey.

But the greatest adventures lay ahead. In the southern steppes, he would have the opportunity to create something unprecedented in Russian history – a new region built from scratch according to rational principles.

"Vasily Stepanovich," he said to his secretary Popov, who accompanied him, "we are about to undertake the greatest colonization project since Peter the Great founded St. Petersburg."

"The challenges will be enormous, Your Excellency."

"So will the rewards. When we succeed – and we will succeed – Russia will have a new granary, a new fleet, and new cities that will be the envy of Europe."

Popov marveled at his master's confidence. Lesser men might be daunted by the enormity of the task ahead. But Potemkin seemed energized by impossible challenges.

As they traveled deeper into the southern steppes, both men sensed they were leaving the old Russia behind and entering a realm where everything would have to be created anew.

The greatest test of Potemkin's abilities was about to begin.

  Chapter 5. The Southern Dream

**Kherson. The Dnieper Estuary. May 1775.**

Governor-General Potemkin stood on a bluff overlooking the wide Dnieper River as it flowed toward the Black Sea. Before him stretched endless steppes – empty, wild, but full of potential. Here, in this wilderness, he would build a city that would become the cradle of Russian naval power in the south.

"Vasily Stepanovich," he said to his secretary Popov, "mark this spot. Here we will lay the foundation of Kherson – Russia's first port on the Black Sea."

Popov dutifully made notes, though he privately wondered how his master intended to build a major city in such a desolate place.

"The location is strategic," Potemkin continued, reading his secretary's doubts. "Deep water for large ships, high ground safe from floods, timber upstream for construction. Most importantly, ships built here can sail directly to sea without passing through enemy territory."

The Governor-General's entourage included military engineers, architects, and surveyors – all handpicked for their competence and vision. Potemkin understood that great projects required great teams.

"Colonel Korsakoff," he addressed the chief military engineer, "what are your thoughts on fortifications?"

"The position is naturally strong, Your Excellency. A citadel on this bluff would command both the river and the approaches from land."

"Good. But remember – we're building a commercial port, not just a fortress. The fortifications should protect trade, not impede it."

This was typical of Potemkin's thinking – everything had to serve multiple purposes and contribute to the region's overall development.

**The First Colonists. Summer 1775.**

Recruiting settlers for the empty steppes required all of Potemkin's persuasive powers. He issued manifestos in multiple languages, promising land, tax exemptions, and religious freedom to anyone willing to make a new life in New Russia.

The first to respond were Cossacks from the Don and Dnieper regions – men accustomed to frontier life who saw opportunity in the vast grasslands.

"Ataman Sidorov," Potemkin addressed the leader of a Cossack band, "what do you think of these lands?"

"Good for cattle, Your Excellency. Good for grain too, if a man has enough hands to work them."

"Then take as much as you can use. The only condition is that you defend what you've taken."

"Against whom?"

"Turks, Tatars, bandits – whoever threatens peaceful settlement. Can your men handle that?"

The Cossack leader laughed. "We've been fighting Turks and Tatars all our lives. Now you give us land to fight for as well as liberty. We'll hold it, Your Excellency."

But Cossacks alone could not populate an entire region. Potemkin cast his recruitment net wider, attracting German colonists seeking religious freedom, Greek merchants fleeing Turkish oppression, and Russian peasants offered their own land for the first time.

**German Settlement of Josephstal. August 1775.**

The most successful colonists proved to be German families from various principalities, drawn by promises of land ownership and religious tolerance. They arrived in organized groups, bringing agricultural knowledge and craft skills desperately needed on the frontier.

"Herr Baron," the colony's spokesman addressed Potemkin during his inspection tour, "we are grateful for the generous terms offered to settlers."

"How are you adapting to local conditions?"

"Very well, Your Excellency. The soil is richer than anything we knew in W;rttemberg. Our first harvest exceeded all expectations."

Potemkin was pleased but not surprised. He had studied colonial settlements around the world and understood the importance of attracting industrious, skilled immigrants.

"And relations with your Russian neighbors?"

"Excellent. We trade our crafts for their protection. Everyone benefits."

This was exactly the kind of harmonious development Potemkin envisioned – different ethnic groups contributing their strengths while sharing common loyalty to Russia.

**Kherson Shipyard. September 1775.**

The most ambitious aspect of Potemkin's southern strategy was creating a Black Sea fleet from nothing. This required not just ships but an entire maritime infrastructure – shipyards, naval schools, supply depots, and experienced personnel.

"Master Afanasiev," he addressed the chief shipbuilder, recruited from the Arkhangelsk yards, "how soon can we launch our first warship?"

"Give me eighteen months, Your Excellency, and you'll have a frigate worthy of any navy in Europe."

"What do you need?"

"More skilled carpenters, better tools, and a reliable supply of iron and canvas."

"You shall have all three. Spare no expense – Russia's future as a naval power depends on what we build here."

The shipyard bustled with activity as craftsmen from across Russia and Europe worked alongside local recruits. Potemkin understood that creating a naval tradition required more than just building ships – it demanded a culture of maritime excellence.

"We're not just constructing vessels," he told the assembled workers. "We're founding Russia's destiny on the southern seas. Every ship you build will carry the honor of our nation."

**St. Petersburg. Winter Palace. October 1775.**

Empress Catherine received regular reports from her Governor-General with growing admiration and amazement. In just six months, Potemkin had begun transforming empty steppes into a thriving region.

"Count Bezborodko," she said to her diplomatic secretary, "read me the latest dispatch from Kherson."

"Your Majesty, Prince Potemkin reports the arrival of 847 new settler families this month. Construction of the naval fortress proceeds ahead of schedule. The first ship's keel will be laid before winter."

Catherine smiled with satisfaction. Her faith in Grigory's abilities was being vindicated spectacularly.

"And the costs?"

"Significant, Your Majesty, but the Prince assures us that revenues from grain exports will soon offset expenses."

"Then we shall continue to support him. Great enterprises require great investments."

But not everyone at court shared the Empress's enthusiasm. Count Panin and his faction continued to view Potemkin's southern project with suspicion and envy.

**Moscow. English Club. November 1775.**

"The man is building his own kingdom down there," complained General Rumyantsev to his fellow conspirators. "Soon he'll be more powerful than any of us."

"Perhaps," replied Count Panin thoughtfully, "but kingdoms built on sand do not last long. The first crisis will reveal whether his achievements are real or merely impressive facades."

"You think he's creating another Potemkin village?" asked Prince Repnin, using the term that would later become synonymous with deceptive appearances.

"I think he's a brilliant showman who understands how to impress his audience. But showmanship is not statecraft."

The critics were wrong, but their skepticism reflected genuine concern about the concentration of power in one man's hands. The Russian Empire had never seen anything quite like Potemkin's southern governorship.

**Kherson. The First Winter. December 1775.**

Winter tested both the colonists' resolve and Potemkin's organizational skills. Thousands of people needed shelter, food, and fuel in a region that barely existed six months earlier.

"Your Excellency," reported Colonel Korsakoff, "we have adequate supplies for the winter, but the margins are thin."

"What about the German settlements?"

"They're actually doing better than our Russian colonies. Better prepared, more disciplined in their resource management."

Potemkin nodded. He had expected this – German colonists brought centuries of frontier experience from their homeland's fragmented politics.

"Use them as models for the others. Practical cooperation matters more than ethnic pride."

The winter also brought Potemkin's first major crisis. A band of Tatar raiders struck several outlying settlements, killing dozens of colonists and carrying off livestock.

"Ataman Sidorov," Potemkin summoned the Cossack leader, "this cannot happen again."

"We need more men, Your Excellency. The frontier is too long for our current numbers."

"Then recruit more. I'm authorizing you to raise additional Cossack regiments. Promise them land grants and regular pay."

"And permission to pursue raiders across the border?"

"Within reason. We want security, not a war with the Ottoman Empire. Yet."

**Spring 1776. The First Harvest.**

The colonies' first harvest would determine whether Potemkin's grand experiment could survive economically. Everything depended on the fertility of the black earth that covered the southern steppes.

The results exceeded even optimistic projections. Wheat yields were double those of central Russia, and the quality was superb. European grain merchants began sending representatives to negotiate purchase contracts.

"Vasily Stepanovich," Potemkin told his secretary with deep satisfaction, "write to Her Majesty. New Russia will not only feed itself – it will help feed Europe."

The economic success silenced many critics and attracted new waves of settlers. Word spread across the continent that the Russian steppes offered unprecedented opportunities for ambitious farmers and craftsmen.

**Sevastopol Bay. June 1776.**

Potemkin's most ambitious project was establishing a major naval base in Crimea. Though the peninsula remained nominally independent, Russian influence was growing steadily.

Standing on the shores of a magnificent natural harbor, Potemkin envisioned fleets that would dominate the Black Sea.

"This will be Russia's Malta," he told his naval officers. "An impregnable fortress commanding the southern seas."

"The Tatars may object to our presence here," warned Captain Klokachev.

"The Tatars will adapt or be replaced. History belongs to those who build, not those who merely raid."

The comment revealed Potemkin's imperial mindset – he saw the colonization of New Russia as bringing civilization to wilderness, regardless of existing inhabitants' claims.

**The Road to Glory. August 1776.**

After more than a year in the south, Potemkin had proven his critics wrong. New Russia was becoming a reality – cities rising from empty plains, ships taking shape in new shipyards, thousands of settlers making successful lives in former wilderness.

But the Governor-General's ambitions extended far beyond mere colonization. He envisioned the southern region as Russia's gateway to the Mediterranean, the Middle East, and global trade.

"We've laid the foundation," he wrote to Catherine. "Now we must build the structure that will make Russia a truly global empire."

The Empress read these words with a mixture of pride and apprehension. Her lover's visions were magnificent, but they would inevitably bring conflict with other powers who saw Russian expansion as a threat to their own interests.

Still, she could not deny the evidence of his success. In eighteen months, Potemkin had created something unprecedented in Russian history – a thriving region born entirely from imperial will and administrative genius.

The provincial boy from Smolensk had become one of Europe's most formidable state-builders. But his greatest challenges still lay ahead.

   Chapter 6. Dangerous Games

**Winter Palace. January 1768.**

Actual State Counselor Grigory Potemkin stood before a map of Europe in the State Secretary's office, studying reports from the Turkish border. Over five years of court service, he had become one of the Empress's most trusted advisors, though he remained in the shadow of more famous favorites.

This suited him perfectly. While Grigory Orlov glittered at balls and enjoyed Catherine's personal favor, Grigory Alexandrovich studied state affairs, accumulated knowledge and connections, preparing for the moment when his hour would strike.

"Potemkin!" Count Panin entered the office. "The Empress requires an urgent report on the situation in Crimea."

"Ready, Nikita Ivanovich," Grigory picked up a folder of documents. "The Turks are massing troops near the border. It seems war is inevitable."

"Precisely. And war means we'll need people capable not only of fighting but of thinking."

Panin gave Potemkin a meaningful look. They understood each other without words – the Orlovs' influence at court was weakening, while Grigory Alexandrovich's abilities were increasingly valued by the Empress.

**Catherine Palace. Evening.**

Catherine received the report in her private study. Eight years of rule had transformed her from a young woman into a mature empress who felt more confident than any of her ministers.

"So, Grigory Alexandrovich," she said after hearing his analysis of the situation, "what do you recommend?"

"Your Majesty, war with Turkey is inevitable. But this could become a great opportunity for Russia."

"Explain."

Potemkin approached the map and pointed to the Crimean peninsula.

"Crimea is the key to the Black Sea. As long as it remains in Turkish hands, Russia cannot become a great naval power. But if we capture it..."

"It would change the balance of power in Europe," the Empress finished. "France and England would never allow Russia to be strengthened."

"They would allow it if we act intelligently," Grigory unfolded another map. "We need not merely conquer territories but create a new civilization there. Show Europe that Russia brings progress, not destruction."

Catherine listened attentively. She liked that Potemkin thought not like an ordinary military man but as a statesman of broad vision.

"And what would Count Orlov say?" she asked. "He opposes the war."

"Count Orlov fears complications," Grigory replied carefully. "But sometimes one must risk for great goals."

The Empress rose and approached the window. Outside, snow was falling, covering St. Petersburg's streets with a white blanket.

"You know, Grigory Alexandrovich," she said thoughtfully, "sometimes it seems you understand my plans better than I do myself."

"I dare to think, Your Majesty, that we want the same thing – the greatness of Russia."

"Perhaps. And what would you personally gain from this greatness?"

The question was unexpected and dangerous. Grigory understood – the Empress was testing his motives.

"Satisfaction from serving a great cause," he said simply.

"And that's all?"

"And the memory of posterity, if God grants us to accomplish something significant."

Catherine smiled. She liked the answer.

"Very well. Prepare a campaign plan. Detailed, accounting for all possible complications."

**Orlov's Chambers. That Same Night.**

Grigory Grigoryevich Orlov paced his room like a caged animal. His younger brother Alexei sat in an armchair with a glass of wine.

"This one-eye is becoming too influential," Grigory was saying. "Catherine consults with him more and more often, instead of with us."

"Maybe that's good?" Alexei shrugged. "Let him work. It's easier for us."

"You're a fool, Alesha! Don't you understand – he's pushing us out. Systematically, patiently, but relentlessly."

"So what do you suggest?"

Grigory stopped by the window.

"We need to act. Before it's too late."

"What does 'act' mean?"

"Compromise him. Prove to the Empress that he's dangerous."

Alexei shook his head.

"Risky, brother. And if it doesn't work out?"

"It will work out. I have a plan."

**A Week Later. The Admiralty.**

Potemkin was working on plans for a naval campaign against the Turks when Adjutant Rimsky-Korsakov approached him.

"Grigory Alexandrovich, Count Orlov urgently requests your presence."

"On what matter?"

"I don't know. He said it's very important."

Grigory set aside his papers and went to the main headquarters, where Count Orlov's office was located. Something in the adjutant's tone was alarming.

In the office, both Orlov brothers and several other people were waiting for him – all close associates of the favorite.

"Ah, Potemkin!" Grigory Orlov exclaimed. "Just in time. We need to discuss certain rumors."

"What rumors?"

"Such as that you're conducting secret correspondence with the Prussian ambassador."

Grigory felt the ground give way beneath his feet. An accusation of state treason was mortally dangerous.

"That's a lie," he said calmly.

"A lie?" Orlov pulled several letters from his desk drawer. "And what is this?"

Grigory took the letters and scanned them. The forgery was skillful, but he immediately noticed several details that revealed the fake.

"This is a forgery," he said.

"Prove it!"

"Gladly. First, here's the date November 15, but on that day I was in Moscow – there are witnesses. Second, the signature is not in my hand – many people know my handwriting. Third..."

"Enough!" Orlov interrupted. "You explain yourself too cleverly for an innocent man."

"And you forge documents too poorly for an experienced intriguer," Grigory parried.

Heavy silence fell. Those present understood – open conflict was inevitable.

"Be careful with your accusations, Potemkin," Orlov said quietly. "You forget whom you're addressing."

"I don't forget. I'm addressing a man who fears honest competition and tries to eliminate a rival through forgery."

Orlov turned purple. His hand moved to his sword hilt.

"I challenge you to a duel!"

"I accept," Grigory replied calmly.

**Peter and Paul Fortress. Dawn the Next Day.**

On the dueling ground, seconds and a doctor had gathered. Orlov chose pistols – he was considered an excellent marksman. Potemkin did not object.

"Gentlemen," said the second, "perhaps we can find a peaceful solution?"

"No," both opponents answered simultaneously.

They stood back to back. The second began counting paces.

"One... two... three..."

Grigory walked, feeling his heart beating wildly. He understood – the outcome of this duel would determine his entire future fate.

"...ten!"

They turned and fired simultaneously. Orlov's bullet whistled past Potemkin's ear. Grigory's bullet hit the count in the shoulder.

Orlov fell, but the wound proved light.

"Is honor satisfied?" the doctor asked.

"Satisfied," Orlov gritted through his teeth.

**Winter Palace. The Same Day.**

News of the duel reached the Empress within an hour. She immediately summoned Potemkin.

"Explain to me what happened!" she demanded.

Grigory told the whole story, hiding not a single detail. Catherine listened in silence.

"Show me these letters," she said finally.

Grigory handed her the forgeries. The Empress studied them carefully.

"Indeed a forgery," she said. "And quite crude."

"Your Majesty..."

"Silence! I haven't finished."

She rose and walked around the office.

"Count Orlov made a serious mistake. But you, Grigory Alexandrovich, also showed carelessness. Duels are forbidden by my decree."

"I beg your pardon, Your Majesty."

"For what? For defending your honor? Or for not killing a man who tried to slander you?"

Grigory understood – the Empress was on his side.

"Your Majesty, I'm ready to bear any punishment."

"Punishment?" Catherine smiled. "What punishment? You are appointed Vice-President of the War College."

Grigory couldn't believe his ears. Vice-President of the War College was one of the highest military positions in the empire.

"Your Majesty..."

"I need people who can stand up for themselves," the Empress said. "And who remain loyal to me. There are few of them."

Leaving the palace, Grigory understood – his life had changed dramatically. Open conflict with Orlov made it impossible to return to former relationships. Now there was irreconcilable enmity between them.

But this conflict also showed the Empress who was on the side of truth. And whom she could trust in difficult moments.

Grigory Potemkin's hour was approaching.


   POTEMKIN


   Part II: The Height of Power

   Chapter 7. Secret Marriage

**Moscow. Church of the Great Ascension. July 4, 1774. Midnight.**

In the deep silence of the ancient temple stood only four figures. Two candles illuminated the altar, where a priest in simple robes quietly read prayers. The witnesses – faithful valet Shkurin and lady-in-waiting Branitskaya – stood aside, understanding the historical significance of the moment.

Catherine Alexeevna, Empress of All Russia, wore a simple gray dress without any regalia. Beside her stood Grigory Alexandrovich Potemkin in the campaign uniform in which he had commanded troops during the Turkish war.

"Let us pray to the Lord," pronounced the priest and began the sacrament of marriage.

Catherine felt her hands trembling. At forty-five, she had decided on an act that could shake the foundations of the empire. A Russian autocrat could not marry a subject – this contradicted all laws and traditions. But her heart proved stronger than state considerations.

Grigory looked at the woman who had become the meaning of his life. Catherine was not just an empress – she was his muse, kindred spirit, beloved. He was ready for any sacrifice, any feat for her sake.

"The servant of God Grigory is wed to the servant of God Catherine," said the priest, placing crowns on their heads.

At this moment time seemed to stop. Two people whose fates were inextricably linked with the destiny of a vast empire were united before God forever.

"Lord our God, crown them with glory and honor!" the priest concluded the ceremony.

They were husband and wife. Secretly, but legally. Before God, if not before people.

Catherine raised her eyes to Grigory. In his single eye she saw tenderness, devotion, strength. This man was worthy of her not through noble birth, but through greatness of soul.

"What have we done, Grisha?" she whispered as they left the church into the pre-dawn silence of Moscow.

"What we should have done long ago," he replied, kissing her hand. "We have united our destinies. Now we are not just empress and subject, but husband and wife."

**Petrovsky Palace. That Same Night.**

In the chambers allocated to the Empress, they remained alone. Catherine sat by the window in a silk robe, Grigory in an armchair opposite. Between them was an intimacy that no crowned couple in Europe knew.

"I'm afraid," the Empress confessed. "Afraid that people won't understand."

"People?" Grigory smiled. "What people? Those who intrigue at court? Or those who plow the land and fight for the Fatherland?"

"Both the former and the latter. The scandal will be terrible if they find out."

"Let them find out!" exclaimed Potemkin. "What is shameful in this? The Empress loves a subject who serves her faithfully and truly. The subject loves an empress who makes Russia great. Where is the sin in this?"

Catherine rose and approached him.

"The sin is that I violate laws that I myself establish. An autocrat cannot marry a subject."

"Then change the laws," Grigory said simply.

"Easy to say..."

"Katya," he took her hands, "you forget who you are. You are not just an empress, you are Catherine the Great. Your will is law for millions of people. Can you really not arrange your own happiness?"

She pressed herself to his chest.

"You know what I want most?" she said quietly.

"What?"

"To be simply a woman. At least sometimes. Not an empress, not an autocrat, but simply a woman who loves and is loved."

"With me you are simply a woman," Grigory replied. "The most beautiful woman in the world."

**Tsarskoye Selo. August 1774.**

Outwardly, nothing changed in court life. Potemkin remained a general-lieutenant and one of the Empress's favorites. But those who could see noticed changes.

Catherine began consulting with Grigory on all important matters. He received the right to enter her presence at any time of day or night. His opinion was considered in all appointments and decisions.

"Grigory Alexandrovich," the Empress said at a Council meeting, "what do you think of Rumyantsev's candidacy for the post of Governor-General of Little Russia?"

"Peter Alexandrovich is an outstanding commander," Potemkin replied, "but Little Russia requires not only military but administrative talent."

"Whom would you recommend?"

"Allow me to think and present you with a detailed opinion tomorrow."

Such dialogues became commonplace. Catherine demonstrated that Potemkin was not simply one of many advisors, but a key figure in decision-making.

Count Panin, the longtime director of foreign policy, watched Potemkin's growing influence with alarm.

"Your Majesty," he said to the Empress after one of the meetings, "doesn't it seem to you that Count Potemkin is acquiring too much influence?"

"And doesn't it seem to you that he has earned this influence?" Catherine replied coldly.

"Undoubtedly, but..."

"No 'buts,' Nikita Ivanovich. Grigory Alexandrovich is one of the most capable people in the empire. I will use his advice as long as I see fit."

Panin understood – the era of his undivided influence on foreign policy was ending.

**Winter Palace. October 1774.**

In the evenings, when official business ended, Catherine and Grigory spent time in her private chambers. They discussed plans for developing the empire, read books, shared thoughts about Russia's future.

"You know what I'm thinking about?" Catherine said, setting aside a French novel.

"What, my dear?"

"That you and I could do more than any other pair of rulers in history."

"Why?"

"Because we understand each other without words. You see my plans before I formulate them. I feel your intentions intuitively."

Grigory approached the map of Russia hanging on the wall.

"Look," he said, "here, in the south, lie vast expanses of fertile land. But they're empty because they're constantly subjected to raids by Crimean Tatars."

"And what do you propose?"

"Annex Crimea. Once and for all end this robber's nest. And then populate these lands, build cities, create a new civilization there."

Catherine carefully studied the map.

"This means war with Turkey. And perhaps with all of Europe."

"Perhaps. But are great deeds done without risk?"

"And if we lose?"

"We won't lose," Grigory said confidently. "We have what others don't – unity of goals and complete mutual understanding."

He took her hand.

"Katya, look at me. What do you see?"

"I see a man who is ready to move mountains for me and Russia."

"Correct. And I see a woman capable of changing the course of history. Together we can make Russia the greatest power in the world."

"Do you really believe this?"

"I don't just believe – I know. Because I love you, and this love gives me strength for any achievement."

Catherine approached the window, beyond which lay snowy St. Petersburg.

"Sometimes it seems to me that I'm sleeping and having a beautiful dream," she said. "A dream that I've found a man who understands me better than I understand myself."

"This is not a dream," Grigory replied. "This is reality. And we must take advantage of this gift of fate."

**New Year 1775. Winter Palace.**

The New Year's ball at the Winter Palace was particularly magnificent. Catherine wanted to demonstrate to all of Europe the greatness of Russia and the stability of her rule.

Potemkin, dressed in the parade uniform of a general-lieutenant, stood near the Empress's throne. Outwardly he was simply one of the highest officials, but everyone felt his special position.

"Count Potemkin," the French ambassador Marquis de Vergennes approached him, "I hear you have grandiose plans for developing the southern provinces?"

"Russia always has development plans, Your Excellency," Grigory replied diplomatically.

"But specifically you? They say the Empress has entrusted you with a special mission?"

"My mission is to serve Her Majesty and the Fatherland."

"Of course, of course. But your influence on state affairs..."

"My influence is determined exclusively by the Empress's trust," Potemkin said firmly. "And I hope I justify this trust."

The French ambassador understood – before him was a man who was not going to reveal his plans to foreign diplomats.

After the ball, Catherine and Grigory remained in the palace's small hall.

"You handled the Frenchman well," the Empress said.

"They all want to know what we're planning. But let them guess instead."

"And what are we planning, Grisha?"

"We're planning to make Russia so powerful that Europe will consider our opinion, not the other way around."

"And how will we achieve this?"

Grigory approached the map and pointed to the southern lands.

"Here, Katya. Here is our future. These lands can feed millions of people, give Russia access to warm seas, make us a great trading power."

"But there's desert there..."

"Desert for now. But if you give me full power over these lands, in twenty years there will be flourishing cities and rich villages there."

Catherine looked long at the map, then shifted her gaze to her husband.

"Very well," she said. "From spring you receive extraordinary powers for developing the southern provinces. Do what you consider necessary."

"Thank you, my dear. You won't regret it."

"I never regret decisions I make under the influence of love," Catherine replied.

The secret marriage of the Empress and her favorite was not just the personal happiness of two people. It was an alliance of two outstanding minds who decided to change history.

And the first steps toward this were already being taken.

Ahead of Potemkin lay twenty years of grandiose creative activity. Twenty years that would change the face of Russia and shake all of Europe.

The time of great achievements was beginning.

   Chapter 8. The Birth of New Russia

**Dnieper Estuary. May 1775.**

Count Potemkin stood on the high bank of the river and looked at the endless steppes stretching to the horizon. With him were architect Starov, engineer-colonel Korsakoff, and translator Popov – the first associates in the grandiose enterprise of creating New Russia.

"Here," said Grigory, pointing to a bend in the Dnieper, "our first city will stand."

"The location is good," agreed Starov, studying the terrain. "The river is deep, the banks are high, there's forest nearby for construction."

"And most importantly – from here it's a stone's throw to the sea," added Potemkin. "Ships built here will be able to go directly into the Black Sea."

Korsakoff unfolded a map.

"Your Excellency, what about population? Practically no one lives here."

"We'll create the population," Grigory replied confidently. "We'll send appeals throughout Russia and Europe. We'll promise land, privileges, exemption from taxes for ten years. People will come."

Popov recorded every word of the prince. He understood – he was present at the birth of a grandiose plan.

"And what shall we name the city?" asked Starov.

Potemkin thought. The name should be significant, reflecting the essence of the enterprise.

"Kherson," he said finally. "In honor of the ancient Greek city in Crimea. Let them know – we are not barbarian conquerors, but heirs to great civilizations."

"Kherson..." repeated the architect. "It sounds beautiful."

"And symbolic," added Potemkin. "The ancient Greeks were also colonizers, they founded cities in distant lands. We continue their work, but on a Russian scale."

**St. Petersburg. Potemkin's Office. June 1775.**

Returning from his trip to the southern lands, Grigory threw himself into preparing for colonization. His office became the headquarters of a grandiose operation to populate the empty steppes.

"Vasily Stepanovich," he said to Popov, "we need to compose an appeal to settlers. In Russian, German, and Greek."

"What should we promise people?"

"Everything we can honestly promise. Land in ownership – 60 desyatinas per family. Exemption from taxes for ten years. Freedom of religion. Help with settlement."

"And if adventurers and fugitives flood in?"

"We'll filter them out on the spot. We need hardworking people, not rogues."

A courier entered the office with a dispatch from the Empress.

"Your Excellency, urgent message from Her Majesty!"

Grigory opened the packet and read. Catherine wrote: "My dear friend! I approve your plans for arranging Kherson. I allocate 500,000 rubles from the state treasury for city construction. Act quickly and decisively. K."

"Excellent!" exclaimed Potemkin. "We have money, we have a plan, we'll find people. We're starting a great construction project!"

**Kherson. September 1775.**

The first party of settlers arrived at the Dnieper estuary in early autumn. These were mainly state peasants from central provinces, attracted by promises of free life on new lands.

Potemkin personally met each group of settlers. He wanted people to see that they were being cared for not by some official, but by the Governor-General himself.

"Welcome to New Russia!" he said to the peasants. "Here you will be not serfs, but free people. The land is yours, the houses are yours, the future is in your hands!"

The crowd responded with enthusiastic cries.

"We will build new cities here, lay roads, create a fleet! The Black Sea will become a Russian lake, and New Russia – the granary of the empire!"

The applause thundered for several minutes. Potemkin knew how to speak to the people – not condescendingly, but as an equal to equals.

In the evening he remained alone in his office. On the desk lay plans for new cities, reports on construction, letters from settlers. There was an enormous amount of work ahead.

But the main thing was already done. In fourteen years of governorship, he had turned wild steppe into a flourishing region. Created from nothing an entire region with cities, ports, fortresses, factories.

And this was only the beginning. Ahead lay even greater achievements – Catherine's journey to Crimea, the construction of Sevastopol, the creation of a powerful Black Sea Fleet.

And perhaps something more. In recent letters from the Empress, special notes sounded. She increasingly addressed him not as a subordinate, but as... a friend? Comrade? Or even more?

Grigory did not allow himself to think about this directly. But his heart suggested – his relationship with Catherine went beyond official boundaries.

And if so, then ahead lay not only state triumphs, but personal happiness with the most powerful woman in the world.

**St. Petersburg. Winter Palace. December 1775.**

Potemkin reported to the Empress on the first results of colonization. Catherine listened with keen interest – for her this was not just the development of new lands, but the implementation of Enlightenment ideas in practice.

"How many settlers have already arrived?" she asked.

"About three thousand families, Your Majesty. Mainly Russian peasants, but there are also German colonists and Greek merchants."

"And how are they settling in?"

"There are difficulties, but people are satisfied. Most importantly – they feel free. No one drives them to corv;e labor, no one takes away the best plots."

Catherine rose and approached the map.

"And other cities? You planned not only Kherson?"

"I'm planning five more cities," Grigory replied. "Here, at the site of the Turkish fortress Ochakov, there will be a military port. Here, at the confluence of the Ingul and Bug, – a trading city. And here, in the depths of the steppe, – the administrative center of all New Russia."

"And what will you call it?"

"Yekaterinoslav," said Potemkin. "In honor of your glorious reign."

The Empress smiled.

"Flatterer! But I like it."

"This is not flattery, but justice. Without your support, nothing would have worked out."

Catherine approached her husband and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"You know, Grisha, sometimes it seems to me that you do more for Russia than I do."

"We do it together," he replied. "You give me power and resources, I implement our common dreams."

"Our dreams... And what dreams do we have, Grigory Alexandrovich?"

"To make Russia great not only militarily, but also creatively. To show Europe that we know how not only to fight, but also to build, not only to destroy, but also to create."

**Kherson. Summer 1776.**

The city grew literally before one's eyes. The first wooden houses were replaced by stone ones, streets were laid out, churches and trading rows were built. But most importantly – the Admiralty was being laid, where ships for the future Black Sea Fleet were to be built.

Potemkin personally controlled every stage of construction. He got up at five in the morning and until late evening toured construction sites, talked with craftsmen, solved problems.

"Master Fedorov," he addressed the chief shipbuilder, "how are things with laying the first frigate?"

"Going well, Your Excellency! We've prepared the timber, the drawings are ready. In a month we'll begin assembling the hull."

"Excellent! And the workers? Are there enough?"

"Enough for now. But if we build several ships simultaneously, we'll need more people."

"We'll find them," Potemkin said confidently. "We'll announce a new recruitment of craftsmen. We pay well, and people will come."

Next to the Admiralty, a fortress was growing. Potemkin understood – without military protection, all his creative plans could collapse from the first Turkish raid.

"Colonel Korsakoff," he said to the military engineer, "make the fortifications solid. This fortress must withstand any siege."

"It will be done, Your Excellency! Walls three sazhens thick, bastions according to the latest word in fortification science."

"And don't forget about beauty. Let foreigners see – Russians know how to build not only strongly, but also beautifully."

**German Settlement. Kherson. August 1776.**

One of Potemkin's most successful experiments was attracting German colonists. They came in whole families from various German states, attracted by promises of religious freedom and economic privileges.

"Herr Count," addressed Johann Zimmerman, the elder of the German community, "we are very grateful for the lands granted to us."

"How are you settling in, Herr Zimmerman?"

"Excellently! The land is truly fertile, the climate is good. Our wheat harvest exceeded all expectations."

"And are there problems?"

"Small ones so far. Language barrier with Russian neighbors, some administrative questions."

"Everything is solvable," Potemkin assured. "The main thing – work, prosper, show an example to other settlers."

The German colonists indeed became a model for imitation. Their neat houses, well-tended fields, thriving crafts earned respect from the local population.

**Meeting with Cossack Elders. September 1776.**

A special problem was relations with the Cossacks, who had long considered these lands their own. Potemkin understood – without Cossack support, colonization could fail.

"Brother Cossacks," he addressed the assembly of elders, "we are not your enemies, but allies. New settlers do not take your lands, but develop wastelands."

"We're not against it, Your Excellency," replied Ataman Sidor Bely, "as long as our rights are not infringed."

"Your rights will be not only preserved but expanded. Want to serve – we'll accept you into the regular army with good pay. Want to engage in trade – we'll give privileges. Want land – you'll get the best plots."

"And what do you require in return?"

"Help in guarding borders and maintaining order. You know these places better than anyone, you know how to fight Tatars."

The agreement with the Cossacks was one of Potemkin's diplomatic triumphs. He managed to turn potential opponents into allies.

**Year-End Results. December 1776.**

By the end of 1776, the results of colonization exceeded all expectations. More than ten thousand settlers had established themselves in New Russia, five large settlements had been founded, and the foundations of future cities had been laid.

"Vasily Stepanovich," Potemkin said to his secretary, "write a report to the Empress. In one year we have done what usually takes a decade."

"What should I indicate as the main achievements?"

"First – peaceful development of a huge territory without conflicts with the local population. Second – successful attraction of settlers of different nationalities. Third – the beginning of construction of military and commercial fleets."

"And problems?"

"There are problems, but they're solvable. The main one is shortage of qualified personnel. We need engineers, doctors, teachers, priests."

"Where to get them?"

"Anywhere. From Russia, from Europe, even from America if necessary. Talented people are needed everywhere, we just need to find the right motivation."

Potemkin approached the window, beyond which stretched the endless steppes of New Russia.

"You know, Vasily Stepanovich, what pleases me most?"

"What, Your Excellency?"

"That we're creating not just new settlements, but a new way of life. There's no serfdom here, no class prejudices. A person is valued by deeds, not by origin."

"This is truly revolutionary for Russia."

"Exactly! We're showing that it's possible to live differently. And if the experiment succeeds, it can be extended to the entire empire."

The first year of the great experiment in creating New Russia was concluding. There was still much work ahead, many plans, many achievements.

But the beginning had been made. And this beginning promised a grandiose continuation.

   Chapter 9. The Crimean Chess Game

**Bakhchisaray. Crimean Khanate. March 1783.**

Khan Shagin-Girey sat in his palace and reread a letter from the Russian envoy. Eight years had passed since the Treaty of Kuchuk-Kainarji, which proclaimed Crimea's independence from Turkey. But this independence proved to be a fiction – the peninsula was torn by internal strife, and the great powers played their own games on its territory.

"Mirza-pasha," the Khan addressed his vizier, "what do you think of this proposal?"

Safer mirza-pasha, an educated man who had received a European education, carefully studied the document.

"Bright Khan, the Russians propose a protectorate to us. Essentially – voluntary annexation to Russia with preservation of internal autonomy."

"And the alternative?"

"The alternative is continuation of chaos. The Turks incite murzas to rebellion against us, the French promise gold for resistance to the Russians, the English intrigue through the Constantinople ambassador."

Shagin-Girey rose and approached the window, from which the ancient city with its mosques and minarets was visible. The Girey Khanate had existed for three centuries, but now it was experiencing agony.

"Tell me honestly, Safer – do we have a choice?"

"No, bright one. We can only choose between Russian protectorate and complete chaos with subsequent partition among neighbors."

"Then invite the Russian envoy. We'll conduct negotiations."

**St. Petersburg. Potemkin's Office. Same Day.**

His Serene Highness Prince Potemkin-Tauride (he received this title after taking Crimea in 1774) bent over a map of the Black Sea region. Red flags marked Russian positions, blue ones – Turkish, yellow ones – disputed territories.

"Vasily Stepanovich," he addressed his secretary Popov, "latest news from Crimea?"

"Khan Shagin-Girey has agreed to negotiations. But the murzas are set against him. Batyr-Girey, who claims the khan's throne, is particularly active."

"Understood. And the Turks?"

"Officially observing neutrality. Unofficially – supplying weapons to Shagin-Girey's opponents and promising support in case of rebellion."

Potemkin thoughtfully drummed his fingers on the table. The Crimean question was for him not just a diplomatic task, but the work of his entire life. Back in 1774, commanding Russian troops in Crimea, he understood – this peninsula was the key to dominance in the Black Sea.

"Mikhail Vasilievich," he addressed General Kakhovsky, who was reporting on the military situation, "how many troops do we have on the khanate's borders?"

"About thirty thousand men, Your Excellency. Mainly in the fortresses of Kinburn, Kherson, and on the Perekop line."

"Enough for a quick operation?"

"If we act decisively – yes. But the Turks might intervene."

"The Turks won't intervene," Potemkin said confidently. "They have their own problems now. Rebellions in Egypt, war with Persia, intrigues in Constantinople itself."

He approached the window, beyond which lay snowy St. Petersburg.

"The main thing is to act quickly and elegantly. So that Europe understands – this is not conquest, but natural reunification."

Someone knocked at the door.

"Enter!"

A courier in a dusty uniform entered.

"Your Excellency! Dispatch from Her Majesty!"

Potemkin opened the packet and read. Catherine wrote: "My dear friend! The situation in Europe favors resolving the Crimean question. The Austrians are occupied with the Balkans, the French with American affairs, the English with India. Act at your discretion. I trust you completely. K."

"Excellent!" exclaimed Grigory. "We receive carte blanche from the Empress. Beginning the operation."

**Simferopol. Russian Consul's Residence. April 1783.**

Privy Counselor Bulgakov, the Russian representative in Crimea, received a delegation of Crimean nobility. This was a carefully prepared meeting – Potemkin had spent months inclining influential murzas to Russia's side.

"Honorable murzas," Bulgakov said, "Russia does not intend to destroy your traditions and customs. On the contrary, we guarantee their protection."

"And what about our lands?" asked murza Akhmet-aga, one of the most influential Crimean aristocrats.

"Your lands will remain yours. Moreover, those who accept Russian citizenship will receive the rights of Russian nobility."

"And religion?"

"Islam remains the state religion of Crimea. Mosques will be under protection, sharia will operate in family and religious matters."

The murzas conversed among themselves in Tatar. Bulgakov understood their hesitation – they were deciding the fate of an entire people.

"Gentlemen," he said finally, "you have a choice. Either peaceful annexation to Russia with preservation of your rights, or continuation of turmoil, which may end in the peninsula's ruin."

"And if we refuse?" asked another murza.

"Then Russia will be forced to restore order by force. And in that case, there can be no talk of any guarantees."

The threat was veiled but clear. After long consultations, most murzas agreed to negotiations on annexation.

**Bakhchisaray. Khan's Palace. May 1783.**

The solemn ceremony of Khan Shagin-Girey's abdication became the culmination of a months-long diplomatic campaign. The throne room gathered representatives of all estates of Crimea, Russian diplomats, and European observers.

"I, Shagin-Girey, last Khan of Crimea," the ruler solemnly proclaimed, "transfer power over the peninsula to Her Imperial Majesty Catherine II, most gracious sovereign of all Russia."

He removed the khan's crown from his head and handed it to Russian General Potemkin, who had specially arrived in Bakhchisaray for this ceremony.

"Your Serene Highness," said the former khan, "I hope that Russian rule will bring my people peace and prosperity."

"You can be sure of it," Potemkin replied. "Crimea will become a pearl of the Russian Empire."

He raised the crown of the Crimean khans.

"This crown," he said to those present, "symbolized power over one of the world's most ancient states. Now it will become a symbol of unity of all peoples living on the shores of the Black Sea."

The ceremony continued for several hours. The manifesto on Crimea's annexation was read, oaths were taken from local nobility, practical questions of administration were discussed.

**Sevastopol. June 1783.**

The most important result of Crimea's annexation was the opportunity to create the main base of the Russian fleet in the Black Sea. Potemkin personally chose the location for future Sevastopol – a deep, well-protected bay in the peninsula's southwest.

"Ivan Yegorovich," he said to architect Starov, standing on the shore of the future Sevastopol Bay, "here will stand a city equal to which there is none in the world."

"The place is truly unique," agreed Starov. "Deep water, protection from winds, convenient approaches from the sea."

"And most importantly – from here our fleet will control the entire Black Sea. Not a single Turkish ship will pass unnoticed."

Next to them stood Rear Admiral Klokachev, the future creator of the Black Sea Fleet.

"Your Excellency," he said, "when can we begin construction of the military port?"

"Immediately," Potemkin replied. "We have no time for delays. The Turks will sooner or later try to return Crimea, and we must be ready."

"And ships? Where to build them?"

"Some in Kherson, some here. We need to develop shipbuilding in several centers – in case of military action."

Potemkin's plan was grandiose – to turn Crimea into Russia's impregnable fortress in the south, and Sevastopol into the main base of a fleet capable of challenging Turkish dominance in the region.

**Constantinople. Sultan's Palace. July 1783.**

News of Crimea's annexation to Russia shocked the Ottoman Empire. Sultan Abdul-Hamid I was furious – the ancient lands of Islam were passing under the rule of infidels.

"Grand Vizier," he said at a divan meeting, "what will we do about this humiliation?"

"Bright padishah," replied Khalil-pasha, "a military solution is now impossible. The Russians are too strong, and we have no allies."

"And a diplomatic one?"

"We can try to raise European powers against Russia. France and England are not interested in strengthening Russian positions in the south."

"Do what you can. But remember – Crimea must return under the rule of the faithful."

Ottoman diplomacy indeed tried to create an anti-Russian coalition. But Potemkin foresaw this threat and prepared countermeasures in advance.

**Vienna. Hofburg Palace. August 1783.**

Austrian Emperor Joseph II received Russian ambassador Prince Golitsyn. The Habsburgs traditionally competed with the Ottoman Empire for influence in the Balkans, and Crimea's annexation to Russia suited them.

"Your Majesty," Golitsyn said, "Empress Catherine proposes concluding an alliance treaty against Turkey."

"On what conditions?"

"Russia receives the straits and Constantinople, Austria – the Balkans up to Belgrade."

Joseph II pondered. The proposal was tempting but risky.

"And if other European powers oppose us?"

"France is occupied with internal affairs, England with colonial wars, Prussia will not dare to fight Russia and Austria simultaneously."

"Need to think," the emperor said. "But in principle the idea is interesting."

Thus the foundations of the future Russian-Austrian alliance against Turkey were laid.

**St. Petersburg. Winter Palace. September 1783.**

Catherine received congratulations on Crimea's annexation. This was one of the greatest diplomatic triumphs in Russian history – a huge territory was annexed practically without bloodshed.

"Grigory Alexandrovich," the Empress said to Potemkin at a ceremonial reception, "you have performed a miracle. Crimea has become Russian!"

"This is our common cause, Your Majesty," the Prince replied. "Your wise policy created the conditions, I only took advantage of them."

"Don't be modest. Without your genius, this operation would have been impossible."

Potemkin indeed conducted a brilliant diplomatic campaign. He managed to:
- Win over the Crimean nobility to his side
- Neutralize Turkish influence 
- Prevent intervention by European powers
- Ensure the peaceful nature of annexation

"And what's next?" Catherine asked.

"Next we turn Crimea into a Russian stronghold," Grigory replied. "We build Sevastopol, create a fleet, strengthen borders. In ten years the peninsula will become an integral part of Russia."

"And the Turks? Will they really reconcile themselves?"

"They won't reconcile themselves. But by the time they decide on war, we'll be ready. And not just ready – we'll be stronger than them."

**Crimea. October 1783.**

Potemkin made an inspection trip around the newly annexed peninsula. Everywhere he was met with respect – the local population quickly understood that the new government was constructively inclined.

In each city he held meetings with representatives of different communities – Tatar, Greek, Armenian, Karaite.

"Friends," he said in Karasubazar, "Crimea has always been a crossroads of civilizations. Russia will continue this tradition. People of different faiths and peoples will live here in peace."

"And our customs?" asked the Tatar murzas.

"Your customs are sacred, as long as they don't contradict the empire's laws. Sharia, your courts, your schools – all this will remain."

"And taxes?"

"The first three years – privileges for everyone. Then according to all-empire norms, but taking into account local peculiarities."

Potemkin's policy in Crimea was a model of imperial administration. He did not seek to Russify the peninsula, but integrated it into Russia while preserving local specificity.

**Bakhchisaray. Khan's Palace. November 1783.**

On the last day of his trip, Potemkin remained alone in the throne room of the former Crimean khans. Here decisions were made that influenced the fates of peoples from the Danube to the Volga. Now this power had passed to Russia.

"Your Excellency," secretary Popov entered, "are you ready to return to St. Petersburg?"

"Ready, Vasily Stepanovich. The deed is done."

"And how do you feel?"

Potemkin pondered.

"You know what I feel? Satisfaction from duty fulfilled. Crimea for centuries was a source of troubles for Russia – from here came raids, from here they threatened our southern lands. Now this threat no longer exists."

"And what's next?"

"Next we build. Cities, fortresses, fleets. We turn the southern borderland into a flourishing region."

He approached the window, from which the ancient city with its mosques and palaces was visible.

"And one more thing, Vasily Stepanovich. We've proven that Russia is capable not only of fighting but also of creating. Not only of destroying but also of uniting. Crimea became Russian not by force of arms, but by force of persuasion."

This was true. Crimea's annexation became a triumph of Russian diplomacy, a model of how a great power can expand its borders through civilized methods.

But Potemkin understood – this was only the beginning. Ahead lay an even more grandiose undertaking – creating from the annexed lands a prosperous region equal to which there was none in the world.

The Crimean chess game was won. Now it remained to take advantage of the fruits of victory.

    Chapter 10. Birth of the Fleet

**Kherson. Admiralty. April 1784.**

The sound of axes and saws thundered over the Dnieper from early morning until late evening. On the slipways of Kherson Admiralty, eight warships were being built simultaneously – from small frigates to powerful ships of the line. Potemkin was creating the Russian Black Sea Fleet literally from nothing.

"Master Afanasiev," His Serene Highness addressed the chief shipwright, "how are things with the flagship?"

Afanasiev, a gray-bearded man of about fifty, wiped his hands on his apron and bowed.

"Going well, Your Excellency! 'Catherine' will be ready by autumn. Eighty guns, crew of five hundred – the Turks haven't seen the like!"

Potemkin climbed the gangway onto the deck of the ship under construction. The enormous vessel impressed with its dimensions – length over fifty meters, height to the mainmast top – forty meters.

"And the timber? Where from?" asked Grigory, examining the quality of the wood.

"Oak from Bryansk, pine from Arkhangelsk. You won't find better in Russia."

"And the craftsmen?"

"Some are ours, from Kherson, some we brought from Arkhangelsk. There are foreigners too – English, Dutch."

Potemkin nodded. Creating a fleet required not only money, but knowledge, experience, traditions. All this had to be gathered bit by bit.

Next to the Admiralty grew a school for shipwrights. Potemkin understood – without native personnel, the fleet would not be stable.

"Dmitry Semyonovich," he addressed the school director, "how many students do we have?"

"Two hundred men, Your Excellency. They study arithmetic, geometry, drafting, fundamentals of shipbuilding."

"That's not enough. We need to expand enrollment. The fleet must be built by Russian hands."

"But where to find teachers?"

"Bring them from Europe, lure them from Arkhangelsk, find retired naval officers. The main thing is to create a system of education."

**Sevastopol. Construction of the Main Fleet Base. May 1784.**

If Kherson was the forge of ships, then Sevastopol was to become their home. Potemkin personally supervised construction of the Black Sea Fleet's main base.

"Ivan Yegorovich," he said to architect Starov, standing on the shore of Sevastopol Bay, "remember – we're building not for a decade, but for centuries."

"The project is ready, Your Excellency," Starov unfolded the blueprints. "Admiralty here, on the Ship Side. Fortress on the north shore. Residential quarters in the center."

"And docks for ship repairs?"

"Dry docks hewn in rock. They'll last forever."

Potemkin carefully studied the plans. Sevastopol was to become an impregnable fortress and modern port simultaneously.

"How much time for construction?"

"With good financing – five years for the main facilities."

"There will be money. The Empress understands the project's importance."

Nearby stood Rear Admiral Klokachev, appointed commander of the future Black Sea Fleet.

"Fyodor Fyodorovich," Potemkin addressed him, "when can you accept the first ships?"

"As soon as they build at least one dock and barracks for crews," the admiral replied. "For now the sailors sleep in tents."

"Patience, Fyodor Fyodorovich. In a year you'll have a base better than the Turks have at Sinope."

**Nikolaev. Laying of a New Port City. June 1784.**

Potemkin was not limited to two shipbuilding centers. According to his plan, at the mouth of the Bug another port city was to arise, specializing in building light vessels.

"Colonel Faleyev," he said to the military engineer, "the location is well chosen. The river is deep, forest is close, not far to the sea."

"What shall we name the city, Your Excellency?"

"Nikolaev. In honor of Saint Nicholas, patron of sailors."

The founding of Nikolaev became another link in Potemkin's system of naval bases. Each city had its specialization, but together they formed a powerful complex.

"Here we'll build frigates and corvettes," the Prince explained. "Small, fast ships for reconnaissance and cruising."

"And where will the crews come from?"

"We'll make marine Cossacks from Don Cossacks. They're good warriors and will quickly master seamanship."

The plan was daring – to turn land-based Cossacks into sailors. But Potemkin knew how to find unconventional solutions.

**St. Petersburg. Admiralty. July 1784.**

Not everyone in the St. Petersburg Admiralty approved of Potemkin's plans. Many considered creating a Black Sea Fleet a waste of money.

"Your Excellency," said Admiral Chichagov, "wouldn't it be better to strengthen the Baltic Fleet? There's the main threat – Swedes, English."

"Admiral," Potemkin patiently explained, "the Baltic is yesterday. Russia's future is in the south. Who controls the Black Sea controls trade with the Levant, Mediterranean, India."

"But the Turks won't let us rule peacefully..."

"Let them try not to let us. We'll have a fleet no worse than theirs."

"And experience? Traditions? The Turks have had a fleet for centuries."

"And we have what they don't – the energy of a young nation and the Empress's support."

Potemkin was right. Catherine II fully supported his naval projects, understanding their strategic significance.

**Kherson. Launch of the First Ship of the Line. September 1784.**

The day of launching the 66-gun ship "Maria Magdalena" became a holiday for all of Kherson. The city was decorated with flags, a brass band played solemn marches.

Potemkin gave a speech to the assembled crowd:

"Friends! Today we witness a historic event. The first warship built on the shores of the Black Sea sets sail!"

The crowd responded with enthusiastic cries. For many Kherson residents, this ship was a symbol of their own success – after all, they had participated in its construction.

"This ship," the Prince continued, "is the first of many. In a few years Russia will have a fleet on the Black Sea equal to which there is none in the world!"

Master Afanasiev cut the rope holding the ship on the slipway. "Maria Magdalena" slowly slid into the water amid the thunder of cannons and crowd cheers.

"Your Excellency," Captain Ushakov, appointed commander of the ship, approached Potemkin, "allow me to introduce myself."

Fyodor Fyodorovich Ushakov was young but already an experienced naval officer. Potemkin immediately recognized a future fleet commander in him.

"Captain Ushakov," he said, "your ship is the firstborn of the Black Sea Fleet. The reputation of the entire fleet depends on how it shows itself."

"Understood, Your Excellency! We won't let you down!"

"I believe it. And remember – we're creating not just a fleet, but a new naval tradition. Be worthy of this honor."

**Constantinople. Sultan's Palace. October 1784.**

News of Russian fleet construction on the Black Sea caused panic in Constantinople. Sultan Abdul-Hamid gathered a war council.

"Kapudan-pasha," he addressed the fleet commander, "what do we oppose to Russian ships?"

"Bright padishah, our fleet is still stronger. But if the Russians continue building ships at the same rate..."

"What do you propose?"

"Preempt them. Attack while the fleet is still weak."

"And allies?"

"The French promise support. The English are also not interested in Russian dominance on the Black Sea."

Thus plans for a new war with Russia ripened in Constantinople.

**Sevastopol. Fleet's First Winter. December 1784.**

By the end of 1784, five warships were already based in Sevastopol. This was a modest force compared to the Turkish fleet, but the beginning was made.

Potemkin spent more and more time in Sevastopol, personally controlling every aspect of base construction.

"Fyodor Fyodorovich," he said to Admiral Ushakov (promoted for excellent service), "how do the crews feel?"


"And discipline?"

"Good. The men understand – they're making history."

"They understand correctly. In ten years this fleet will dominate from the Caucasus to the Danube."

Potemkin was not exaggerating. His plan for developing the Black Sea Fleet was calculated for the long term and took into account all necessary factors – bases, shipyards, personnel, supply.

**Yekaterinoslav. Metallurgy Center. January 1785.**

The fleet needed not only ships but also cannons, anchors, chains. Potemkin was creating a metallurgical center in Yekaterinoslav capable of meeting all fleet needs.

"Master Chulkov," he addressed the foundryman, "how are things with cannon production?"

"Going well, Your Excellency! We cast up to twenty guns per month. Quality is no worse than Tula's."

"That's not enough. Need to double production."

"Then we need more craftsmen and furnaces."

"There will be both. The fleet cannot depend on supplies from central Russia."

Creating a complete production cycle for everything necessary for the fleet was one of Potemkin's main achievements. New Russia was becoming a self-sufficient military-industrial region.

**First Year Results of Fleet Building. March 1785.**

A year after beginning the Black Sea Fleet creation program, results exceeded all expectations:
- 12 warships of various classes launched
- Three shipyards built in Kherson, Sevastopol, and Nikolaev 
- More than 500 naval officers and petty officers trained
- Supply and repair system created

"Vasily Stepanovich," Potemkin said to secretary Popov, "write a report to the Empress. In one year we've created what takes others decades."

"What should I indicate as the main achievement?"

"The main thing – we've proven that Russia can be a great naval power not only in the north but also in the south. The Black Sea ceases to be a Turkish lake."

"And plans for the future?"

"Double the fleet size in the next two years. By 1787 we should have thirty ships of the line and frigates."

"Is that realistic?"

"More than realistic. We have everything necessary – money, materials, people. The main thing is the will to victory."

Potemkin looked out the window at the Dnieper, along which Russian fleet ships were sailing. Just recently there had been empty steppe here, and now – one of the centers of Russia's naval power.

"You know, Vasily Stepanovich, what pleases me most?" he said thoughtfully.

"What, Your Excellency?"

"That we're creating not just a fleet, but a new maritime civilization. Cities, shipyards, schools, traditions. All this will outlive us and serve Russia for centuries."

His Serene Highness was right. The Black Sea Fleet he created became one of the pillars of Russian power in the south. And the port cities of New Russia remain centers of domestic shipbuilding to this day.

The birth of the fleet had taken place. Now it remained to test it in battle.

    Chapter 11. Triumphal Journey

**Tsarskoye Selo. January 1787.**

Empress Catherine II stood at her study window looking at the snow-covered park. Beyond the glass, snowflakes slowly swirled, and logs crackled in the fireplace. But the Empress's thoughts were far from the winter landscape – she was contemplating the upcoming journey to New Russia and Crimea.

"Grigory Alexandrovich," she addressed Potemkin, who was studying the route of the trip, "are you certain everything is ready?"

"Absolutely, Your Majesty," replied His Serene Highness. "For twelve years I've been preparing these lands for your arrival. Now you'll see the fruits of our labors."

Catherine was fifty-eight years old, and she understood – this journey might be the last great undertaking of her reign. She needed to show Europe Russia's might, demonstrate successes in developing southern lands, strengthen the empire's international prestige.

"And what do foreign diplomats say?"

"Everyone wants to participate," Potemkin smiled. "Emperor Joseph will join us incognito in Kiev. French ambassador de S;gur, English – Sir James Harris, Polish King Stanislaus – all are coming."

"So the whole world will be watching?"

"That's exactly what we're achieving. Let them see what Russia is capable of under your rule."

Catherine approached the table where journey plans lay. The route was impressive – from St. Petersburg through Smolensk, Kiev, Kremenchug, Kherson, Sevastopol, Bakhchisaray and back. More than four thousand versts through their own empire.

"How long will the trip take?"

"Six months, Your Majesty. From January to June. This will allow showing all seasons in New Russia – from winter steppes to flowering Crimean gardens."

**Smolensk. February 1787.**

The imperial cortege was truly regal. Fourteen carriages, 124 spare horses, a retinue of two hundred people. Catherine traveled in a specially built palace-carriage with all conveniences.

In Smolensk, Potemkin's native city, the Empress was met with special magnificence. His Serene Highness personally showed the sovereign places of his childhood.

"Here stood our house," he said, pointing to a modest building. "From here I set off to Moscow to study."

"And did you dream then of becoming a prince and receiving an empress in your native places?"

"I dreamed, Your Majesty," Grigory answered honestly. "But even the boldest dreams were more modest than reality."

Catherine smiled. She liked that Potemkin wasn't ashamed of his origins and didn't boast of his achieved position.

A solemn liturgy was served in the local cathedral, after which the Empress received the nobility of Smolensk Province.

"Gentlemen," she said in her speech, "this region gave Russia one of its outstanding sons. Prince Potemkin showed the whole world what Russian people are capable of when they serve the Fatherland faithfully and truly."

**Kiev. March 1787.**

The ancient capital of Rus met the Empress with the ringing of all church bells. Kiev was to impress foreign guests as a center of Orthodox civilization.

Here Austrian Emperor Joseph II joined the cortege, traveling under the name Count Falkenstein. This was the first visit of a foreign monarch to a Russian empress on Russian territory.

"Madame," Joseph II said to Catherine during a walk through the Kiev-Pechersk Lavra, "your empire amazes with its dimensions."

"This is only the beginning, Count," the Empress replied. "Ahead you'll see lands that were still desert ten years ago."

"Did Prince Potemkin really manage to develop them so quickly?"

"You'll see for yourself. Grigory Alexandrovich is a genius of organization."

Potemkin had indeed prepared the route as a grandiose theatrical performance. Each day of the journey was to amaze the imagination and demonstrate Russia's might.

In Kiev the Empress visited the university, inspected ancient temples, received deputations from all estates. The parade of troops made a special impression – ten thousand soldiers in new uniforms marched before the sovereign.

**On the Road to Kremenchug. April 1787.**

The real spectacle began when the cortege left Kiev for the Dnieper. Potemkin had turned the road into a triumphal highway.

Every ten versts they met picturesque groups of people in national costumes – Ukrainians with bread and salt, Cossacks with drawn sabers, German settlers in neat caftans.

"Count Falkenstein," Catherine asked the Austrian emperor, "what do you think of what we've seen?"

"Amazing, Madame! A new civilization is truly being created here."

Joseph II wasn't pretending. The systematic development of huge territories impressed even a monarch accustomed to European order.

French ambassador Count de S;gur recorded in his diary: "The journey is becoming a demonstration of Russian power. Potemkin is showing Europe that Russia is capable not only of conquering but also of creating."

English ambassador Sir James Harris was more skeptical. He sought signs of "Potemkin villages" – decorations created specially for show. But he had to admit – everything seen was real.

**Kremenchug. May 1787.**

The city on the Dnieper became the first major stop in New Russia. Here Catherine first saw the fruits of Potemkin's twelve-year labors in all their scale.

"Your Majesty," His Serene Highness said, leading the Empress through the city, "twelve years ago there was a Cossack settlement of three hundred houses here. Now – a city with ten thousand inhabitants."

Catherine examined the wide streets, stone houses, trading rows, schools, hospitals. Everything was built solidly, with calculation for future development.

"And where does the population come from?"

"From everywhere, Your Majesty. Russian peasants from central provinces, Ukrainian Cossacks, German colonists, Greek merchants, Armenian craftsmen."

"And how do they get along?"

"Excellently. When people work and prosper, national differences become secondary."

The troop review made a special impression. Regiments staffed with soldiers from different peoples of the empire, but equally trained and disciplined, passed before the Empress.

In Kremenchug the Empress boarded the galley "Dnieper" – a ship-palace specially built for the journey. From here the path lay along the river to Kherson itself.

**Along the Dnieper to Kherson. May 1787.**

The voyage down the Dnieper became the culmination of the journey's first part. Potemkin had turned the river into a water triumphal road.

The galley "Dnieper" was a work of art. Eighty meters long, with gilded decorations, carpets, paintings. An orchestra played on deck, and libraries, study, bedrooms for the Empress and her guests were arranged in the salons.

"Prince Potemkin," said Joseph II, admiring the galley's appointments, "you've surpassed yourself. This ship is worthy of the queen of the seas."

"This is only the beginning, Your Majesty," Grigory replied. "In Kherson you'll see real miracles."

Behind the galley followed a flotilla of eighty vessels with courtiers, diplomats, retinue. Along the river banks troops were stationed, saluting the passing Empress.

Each evening the galley stopped at prepared stations. There silk tents were pitched, tables set, concerts and fireworks arranged.

"Madame," said French ambassador de S;gur, "this journey will enter history as one of the most magnificent."

"I hope, Count," Catherine replied. "Russia must amaze the world not only with force of arms but also with grandeur of creation."

**Kherson. June 1787.**

Arrival in Kherson became the apotheosis of the journey. The city founded by Potemkin just twelve years ago amazed with its scope and prosperity.

The galley "Dnieper" approached the wharf amid cannon thunder. The whole city poured out to meet the Empress – Russians, Ukrainians, Greeks, Armenians, Tatars, Germans.

"Welcome to Kherson!" proclaimed Potemkin, helping Catherine disembark.

The Empress looked around. What she saw exceeded all expectations. Wide streets, stone houses, magnificent Admiralty, ships on the roadstead.

"Grigory Alexandrovich," she said quietly, "this is a miracle."

"Your miracle, Your Majesty. You gave me power and means, I only embodied your plans."

The Kherson inspection took several days. Catherine visited the Admiralty where Black Sea Fleet ships were built, schools where naval officers were trained, hospitals, churches, trading rows.

The fleet review made a special impression. Thirty warships passed before the Empress, demonstrating crew training and Russian fleet power in the Black Sea.

"Fyodor Fyodorovich," Catherine addressed Admiral Ushakov, "is this fleet ready for battle?"

"Yes, Your Majesty! Ready to defend the honor of the Russian flag at any point in the Black Sea!"

Foreign observers were amazed. The English ambassador recorded in a dispatch: "The Russians have created naval power in the south that changes the balance of forces in the region."

**Path to Crimea. June 1787.**

From Kherson the cortege headed to Crimea. This was the most responsible part of the journey – it was necessary to show how the former robber's nest was becoming a prosperous Russian province.

The crossing through Perekop was arranged especially solemnly. The ancient gates of Crimea were decorated with the inscription "The Path to Glory is Open," and the isthmus itself was turned into a triumphal road.

"Your Majesty," Potemkin said as the carriages entered Crimea, "welcome to the new pearl of your crown."

The Crimean steppes met travelers with a carpet of flowers. Potemkin had specially chosen the time when the peninsula was especially beautiful.

Along the road to Bakhchisaray the cortege stopped in Tatar villages, where local residents in national costumes greeted the Empress with bread and salt and Eastern dances.

"How does the local population relate to us?" Catherine asked Potemkin.

"With respect and gratitude," His Serene Highness replied. "We gave them peace, justice, opportunity to prosper."

**Bakhchisaray. June 1787.**

Visiting the former capital of the Crimean Khanate became one of the most symbolic moments of the journey. The Khan's palace was turned into a museum of Eastern luxury.

Catherine slowly walked through the halls where the rulers of Crimea once made decisions. At the famous Fountain of Tears she stopped.

"What sad beauty," the Empress said.

"This is a symbol of the past, Your Majesty," Potemkin replied. "The past that has gone forever. Crimea's future lies in prosperity under the Russian crown."

Former Khan Shagin-Girey, who formally retained his title but lived in honorable exile, greeted the Empress.

"Your Majesty," he said, "I thank you for mercy to my people."

"All peoples of Russia are equal before the throne," Catherine replied. "Whoever serves faithfully will find protection and patronage."

**Sevastopol. July 1787.**

The culmination of the journey was arrival in Sevastopol. The new fortress and fleet base were to demonstrate Russia's military might in the south.

Sevastopol Bay presented a spectacle that amazed even experienced European diplomats. Forty warships stood in battle formation, ready for parade.

"Count Falkenstein," Catherine said to Austrian Emperor, "what do you think of what you've seen?"

"Amazing, Madame! Just recently there was an empty bay here, and now – the main base of the Russian fleet."

Potemkin personally led the high guests through the fortress, showed arsenals, docks, barracks.

"Your Serene Highness," the French ambassador asked, "how much time was required to build all this?"

"Four years of intensive work," Grigory replied. "But the main thing – this is only the beginning. In ten years Sevastopol will become Russia's impregnable stronghold in the south."

The naval parade exceeded all expectations. Ships passed before the Empress, demonstrating crew training and artillery power. A salute from a thousand guns shook the air over the bay.

"Now the Black Sea has truly become a Russian lake," said Joseph II.

"Only its northern part so far," Potemkin replied. "But that's already considerable."

**Return to St. Petersburg. August 1787.**

The journey concluded in an atmosphere of universal triumph. Europe was amazed by the scale of Russian achievements in the south. Diplomats wrote to their capitals about the "miracle" performed by Potemkin in New Russia.

"Grigory Alexandrovich," Catherine said on the last day of the journey, "you've shown the world a new Russia. A Russia-creator."

"This is our common cause, Your Majesty," His Serene Highness replied. "We did this together."

"Yes, together. And now the whole world knows – Russia is capable not only of fighting but also of building, not only of destroying but also of creating."

But not all European capitals rejoiced at Russian successes. In Constantinople, Paris, London, alarm was growing. Russia's strengthening in the south disrupted the balance of power in Europe.

French ambassador de S;gur recorded in his final report: "The Empress's journey is a challenge to all of Europe. Russia demonstrates readiness for new conquests."

And the Turkish Sultan, after receiving reports from his agents, made a fateful decision – to declare war on Russia.

Catherine II's triumphal journey to Crimea became Potemkin's last peaceful triumph. Ahead lay the final war, which would bring him new victories but also mark the beginning of the end.

His Serene Highness had reached the apex of glory. Now he faced defending what he had created in mortal combat with Russia's enemies.


  POTEMKIN

   Part III: The Titan's Twilight

His Serene Highness had reached the apex of glory. Now he faced defending what he had created in mortal combat with Russia's enemies.

    Chapter 12. The Last War

**Constantinople. Topkapi Palace. August 1787.**

Sultan Abdul-Hamid I paced the audience hall like a wounded beast. Reports of the Russian Empress's triumphal journey through Crimea and New Russia had driven him into a fury. What had recently been Turkish lands had now become a showcase of Russian power.

"Grand Vizier," he addressed Yusuf Pasha, "how long will we endure these humiliations?"

"Bright Padishah, the Russians are provoking us. They want war."

"Then let us give them war!" exclaimed the Sultan. "Let them know – the Ottoman Empire still lives!"

At the war council table sat the empire's highest officials. The Kapudan Pasha reported on the fleet's condition, the Serasker on the army's readiness.

"We have advantages," said the War Minister. "The fleet is still stronger than the Russian one. The fortresses on the Danube are impregnable. And most importantly – the French promise support."

"What kind of support?"

"Money, weapons, military advisors. King Louis is interested in weakening Russia."

The Sultan nodded. France traditionally supported Turkey against Russia, seeing it as a way to limit Russian expansion.

"Good. We declare war. But remember – this time we must win. Defeat would mean the end of the empire."

**St. Petersburg. Winter Palace. September 1787.**

News of Turkey's declaration of war found Empress Catherine II sorting through papers after her journey. The Empress was not surprised – she understood that demonstrating Russian power in the south would inevitably lead to military conflict.

"Grigory Alexandrovich," she said to Potemkin, "the Turks have declared war. Are we ready?"

"More than ready, Your Majesty," His Serene Highness replied confidently. "We have the world's best army, a new fleet, impregnable fortresses. And most importantly – we're fighting on our own soil."

"And allies?"

"Austria will act with us. Emperor Joseph saw our achievements with his own eyes and understands the benefits of alliance against the Turks."

Catherine rose and approached the map. The theater of upcoming military operations stretched from the Baltic to the Caucasus.

"What is your campaign plan?"

"Offensive on three directions," Potemkin pointed to the map. "Main army – to Ochakov and the Danube. Caucasus corps – to Batumi and Kars. Fleet – dominance in the Black Sea."

"And where will you personally command?"

"On the main direction. Ochakov is the key to the Dnieper estuary. Take it – and all of southern Russia will be secure."

The Empress was sixty years old, and she understood – this might be the last major war of her reign. She needed to consolidate all achievements and ensure Russia's strong positions in the south.

"Act, Grigory Alexandrovich. I trust you completely."

**Kinburn. Fortress at the Dnieper Mouth. October 1787.**

The Turks struck first at Kinburn fortress – a small fortification controlling the entrance to the Dnieper estuary. This was a test of Russian defenses before the main offensive.

General Suvorov, the fortress commandant, met the Turkish landing in full readiness. Alexander Vasilievich was already mature in age but retained youthful energy and genius capacity for tactical decisions.

"Brothers!" he addressed the soldiers before battle. "The Turks think to frighten us. Let's show them how Russians fight!"

The assault on Kinburn lasted a whole day. The Turks attacked from sea and land, but the fortress held. Suvorov personally led soldiers in counterattacks, inspiring them by his own example.

By evening the Turkish landing was completely destroyed. The enemy lost over a thousand killed, the Russians – less than a hundred.

"Alexander Vasilievich," Suvorov's adjutant said, "His Serene Highness ordered you to report on the battle's progress."

"Report: fortress intact, Turks beaten, Russian glory unblemished!" the commander replied.

The victory at Kinburn was a good start to the campaign. It showed that Russian troops were ready for serious war.

**Ochakov. Turkish Fortress. November 1787.**

The campaign's main objective was Ochakov – a powerful fortress at the Dnieper mouth that controlled the exit to the Black Sea. Potemkin personally headed the siege of this key point.

Ochakov was considered impregnable. Powerful walls, deep moats, numerous garrison under command of experienced Gazi Hassan Pasha. The Turks were confident – this fortress would stop the Russian offensive.

"Ivan Petrovich," Potemkin addressed General Saltykov, "what's your opinion on the possibility of assault?"

"The fortress is strong, Your Excellency. Assault will cost great losses."

"And blockade?"

"We could try to take it by starvation. But that will take much time."

Potemkin carefully studied the fortress through his spyglass. Experience of past wars suggested – direct assault would be bloody, but prolonged siege was also risky.

"We'll act according to circumstances," he decided. "First we'll try to persuade the garrison to surrender through negotiations."

But the Turks weren't planning to surrender. Gazi Hassan Pasha was an experienced commander who understood Ochakov's importance for defending Turkish possessions.

**Potemkin's Headquarters under Ochakov. December 1787.**

The siege was dragging on. Russian troops surrounded the fortress with a tight ring, but taking it quickly proved impossible. Potemkin spent whole days at headquarters, developing assault plans.

"Your Excellency," reported Colonel Kutuzov, "the Turks made a sortie against our trenches."

Mikhail Illarionovich was one of the most capable officers in the army. Potemkin saw a future great commander in him.

"Did we repel it?"

"We repelled it. But they showed the garrison's spirit isn't broken yet."

"Then we'll have to break it by force."

Potemkin understood – prolonging the siege played against Russia. A coalition was forming in Europe against Russian successes, and decisive victory was needed as quickly as possible.

"Mikhail Illarionovich," he said to Kutuzov, "prepare assault for tomorrow's dawn."

"I obey, Your Excellency!"

**Storm of Ochakov. December 6, 1788.**

The assault began at dawn in severe frost. Russian columns attacked the fortress from three sides simultaneously. Grenadiers with fascines and ladders went ahead, followed by musketeers ready to support the attack with fire.

Potemkin observed the battle from the command post, but when one column's attack faltered, he couldn't restrain himself.

"Vasily Stepanovich," he said to adjutant Popov, "I'm taking the reserve and going into battle."

"Your Excellency, it's dangerous!"

"War is a dangerous business. But sometimes a commander must set an example."

Potemkin personally led the reserve battalion into attack. The sight of the commander-in-chief going in the front ranks inspired the entire army.

"For faith! For the Tsarina! For the Fatherland!" shouted the soldiers, rushing to storm.

The battle was fierce. The Turks fought desperately, understanding there was nowhere to retreat. But Russian infantry, hardened in many battles, proved stronger.

By noon the fortress was taken. Gazi Hassan Pasha died in battle, the Turkish garrison was partly destroyed, partly captured.

"Your Excellency!" an adjutant ran to Potemkin. "The fortress is ours!"

Grigory removed his hat and crossed himself.

"Glory to God! Ochakov is taken!"

Taking Ochakov became the war's turning point. Now the entire Dnieper estuary was controlled by Russia, and Turkish positions on the Black Sea were seriously weakened.

**Jassy. Moldavia. Summer 1790.**

The war had continued for three years. Russian troops won victory after victory – Suvorov crushed the Turks at Fokshani and Rymnik, the fleet under Ushakov's command dominated the Black Sea.

But Potemkin felt fatigue. Years of continuous wars and state cares were taking their toll. He was fifty-one years old – a solid age for the eighteenth century.

"Vasily Stepanovich," he said to secretary Popov, "it's time to end the war."

"But we're winning, Your Excellency!"

"That's exactly why it's time to end it. Victory must be stopped in time."

"And Constantinople? You dreamed of taking the straits..."

Potemkin looked thoughtfully at the map.

"I dreamed. And perhaps could have taken them. But the price would have been too high. All of Europe would have united against Russia."

He rose and approached the window.

"You know, Vasily Stepanovich, what I've understood over these years? True greatness lies not in conquering as much as possible, but in creating something solid and lasting."

"Do you regret this?"

"I don't regret it. I've done more for Russia than any statesman could dream of. Created a fleet, built cities, annexed Crimea. That's enough for one lifetime."

**Treaty of Jassy. January 1792.**

Peace negotiations with Turkey took place in the Moldavian city of Jassy. Potemkin personally headed the Russian delegation, striving to achieve the most favorable conditions.

"Gentlemen," he addressed the Turkish representatives, "Russia is ready for peace, but peace must be just and lasting."

The Turks, having suffered a series of crushing defeats, were forced to make concessions. Under the Treaty of Jassy, Russia received:
- Ochakov with its district
- The border along the Dniester
- The right of free navigation in the Black Sea
- Confirmation of Russian sovereignty over Crimea

This was a great victory, though not complete. Constantinople and the straits remained in Turkish hands.

"Your Serene Highness," said one of the Russian diplomats, "aren't the terms too mild?"

"No," Potemkin replied. "We took what we could hold. And for more, we would have needed a coalition war with half of Europe."

He didn't know he was signing his last treaty.

**Road from Jassy. October 1791.**

Potemkin was returning from Jassy in poor health. Years of continuous tension, war stresses, endless concerns about state affairs had undermined his mighty constitution.

"Your Excellency," said court physician Massot, "you need rest. You must go for treatment to Karlsbad or at least to St. Petersburg."

"No time, doctor," Grigory replied. "Too many affairs. Need to arrange new lands, develop trade, prepare for the next war."

"What next war? Peace was just signed!"

"Peace is a respite, doctor. The Turks will never reconcile themselves to losses. In ten-fifteen years everything will repeat."

Potemkin wasn't mistaken. His strategic thinking worked flawlessly even in illness.

But strength was running out. On the road he felt increasingly worse – fever, weakness, stomach pains.

"Vasily Stepanovich," he said to Popov, "if something happens, tell the sovereign – I served her faithfully to my last breath."

"What are you saying, Your Excellency! You'll recover!"

"I don't know, my friend. I feel – strength is running out."

**Steppe between Jassy and Nikolaev. October 5, 1791.**

Potemkin asked them to stop the carriage. He could no longer bear the jolting in the coach and wanted to die under the open sky, in the steppe he had loved and developed all his life.

Servants spread a carpet on the grass, laid the dying prince down. Above his head stretched the boundless autumn sky, around – the steppe he had transformed from desert into a flourishing region.

"Vasily Stepanovich," Potemkin whispered, "write down my last words."

"I'm listening, Your Excellency."

"To the sovereign... tell the sovereign that I loved her all my life. And that the cities we built... will be an eternal monument to our love and our service to Russia."

Popov wept, recording these words.

"Anything else, Your Excellency?"

"Kherson... Sevastopol... Yekaterinoslav..." Grigory enumerated his creations. "Let them live and prosper. Let them serve Russia for centuries."

He closed his eyes and grew quiet. His Serene Highness Prince Grigory Alexandrovich Potemkin-Tauride died in the night of October 5, 1791, at the age of fifty-two.

The man who changed the map of the world, created an entire civilization from nothing, transformed a Russian empress into Catherine the Great, departed life at the height of his creative powers.

But his work was done. New Russia became an integral part of Russia, the Black Sea – a Russian lake, and Potemkin's name – a symbol of greatness and creative might.

The era of the titan ended. The era of his legacy began.

    Epilogue. Immortality

**St. Petersburg. Winter Palace. October 8, 1791.**

The courier galloped into St. Petersburg on the third day after Potemkin's death. He found Empress Catherine II in her study, drafting a decree on new privileges for settlers in New Russia.

"Your Majesty," he said with a trembling voice, "sorrowful news. His Serene Highness Prince Potemkin-Tauride... has died."

The pen fell from the Empress's hands. She slowly rose from her chair, as if not believing what she heard.

"What did you say?"

"Prince Potemkin died October fifth on the road from Jassy. Here are his last words..."

Catherine took the sheet and read her husband's final message. Tears flowed down her cheeks – for the first time in many years the Autocrat of All Russia wept before a stranger.

"Leave me," she said quietly.

When the courier left, Catherine locked her study door and broke down sobbing. She had lost not only the most talented statesman, but her husband, friend, comrade. The man who understood her better than she understood herself.

On the desk lay a map of Russia with Potemkin's markings – plans for new cities, roads, canals. All this now remained without its creator.

**Kherson. October 1791.**

News of the founder's death shocked all of Kherson. Residents – Russians, Ukrainians, Greeks, Germans – all as one came out to see off the man who had given them a new homeland.

"Our father has died," people said. "Who will care for us now?"

Master Afanasiev, who had built ships according to Potemkin's drawings, stood at the founder's grave and thought that an era was ending.

"Farewell, Your Excellency," he said. "We won't forget who gave us this life."

Potemkin's funeral in Kherson became a national mourning festival. Tens of thousands of people came to see off the creator of New Russia on his final journey.

**Sevastopol. 1791-1792.**

Admiral Ushakov received news of Potemkin's death aboard the flagship "Nativity of Christ." Fyodor Fyodorovich understood – the fleet had lost not just a patron, but a spiritual father.

"Gentlemen officers," he said at a memorial gathering, "we owe the Prince everything. This fleet, this base, these victories. The best monument to him is our faithful service to Russia."

The Black Sea Fleet created by Potemkin continued to grow and strengthen. In the war of 1798-1800, Admiral Ushakov brilliantly distinguished himself in the Mediterranean, proving that Russian sailors were equal to the world's best fleets.

In 1853-1856 during the Crimean War, Sevastopol withstood an eleven-month siege by the combined forces of England, France, and Turkey. The city fell, but its heroic defense shocked the world and became a symbol of Russian steadfastness.

"Prince Potemkin built for centuries," said Sevastopol's defenders. "These walls will withstand any storm."

**Yekaterinoslav. 1800s.**

The city named in honor of the Empress became southern Russia's largest industrial center. Metallurgical plants, machine-building enterprises, coal mines – everything Potemkin had planned was coming to life.

Local residents sacredly preserved memory of the city's founder. A statue of His Serene Highness was erected in the center with the inscription: "To the Creator of New Russia from Grateful Descendants."

During the 1917 revolution they tried to demolish the monument, but factory workers stood up to defend it.

"Potemkin gave us work and bread," they said. "We won't let them destroy his memory."

**Odessa. 19th Century.**

The city founded after Potemkin's death but according to his plans became the pearl of the Black Sea. The largest port, commercial center, cultural capital of southern Russia.

Foreigners visiting Odessa were amazed:

"How did the Russians manage to create such a European city in the distant steppe?"

"It wasn't the Russians who created it," local residents replied. "It was Potemkin who created it. Even dead, he continues to build cities."

**St. Petersburg. 1796. Death of Catherine II.**

Empress Catherine II died five years after Potemkin. They said she never recovered from his death. In her final years she often spoke of her husband, reread his letters, recalled joint plans.

"We should have died together," she said before death. "Without him the empire is no longer the same."

New Emperor Paul I didn't love either his mother or her favorites. He ordered Potemkin's portraits removed from palaces, renamed some cities he had created.

But changing history was impossible. New Russia lived and developed according to laws laid down by His Serene Highness.

**1812. Patriotic War.**

When Napoleon invaded Russia, Potemkin's cities became one of the sources of resistance. Kherson ships blockaded the Danube, Yekaterinoslav factories forged weapons, Odessa merchants financed militia.

Field Marshal Kutuzov, Potemkin's student, said:

"Grigory Alexandrovich fights for Russia even after death. New Russia he created feeds and arms our army."

In the decisive battle at Borodino, many officers wore Potemkin's portraits on their chests as talismans.

**1854-1856. Crimean War.**

The heaviest test for Potemkin's legacy was the Crimean War. England and France decided to crush Russian power in the Black Sea by capturing Sevastopol.

Eleven months the city's siege lasted. Defenders fought with heroism worthy of their ancestors. Admirals Kornilov, Nakhimov, Istomin continued Ushakov's traditions.

"We're defending not just a fortress," Nakhimov said. "We're defending Potemkin's work, the honor of the Russian fleet."

Sevastopol fell, but its defense became legend. And twenty years later the city was rebuilt even more powerful than before.

**1917. Revolution.**

Revolution swept away old Russia, but Potemkin's cities remained. Kherson, Nikolaev, Dnepropetrovsk (former Yekaterinoslav), Odessa, Sevastopol – all became centers of new, Soviet civilization.

The Bolsheviks tried to erase Potemkin's name from history as a "tsarist lackey." But the people remembered who created their cities, gave them work and prosperity.

"Potemkin was a lord, but he did people's work," workers said. "He built cities not for himself, but for us."

**1941-1945. Great Patriotic War.**

During the war, Potemkin's cities became fortresses of resistance to fascism. Sevastopol held for 250 days, Odessa for 73 days. Kherson and Nikolaev were turned to ruins by the enemy but rose from ashes.

"Prince Potemkin built these cities forever," defenders said. "We won't let the enemy destroy them."

Marshal Tolbukhin, who liberated Crimea, ordered preservation of all Potemkin monuments:

"However one relates to the tsarist regime, Potemkin is our history. Our pride."

**Our Time. 21st Century.**

More than two hundred years have passed since Potemkin's death, but his creations live. Sevastopol remains the main fleet base. Kherson – a shipbuilding center. Dnipro – an industrial giant. Odessa – the pearl of the Black Sea.

Tourists from around the world come to see the "Potemkin cities." Historians study his colonization and urban planning methods as exemplary.

In each city he founded stands a monument to His Serene Highness. The pedestals bear different inscriptions, but the meaning is one: "To the Creator of Our City from Grateful Descendants."

**History's Lessons**

What did Grigory Potemkin do for Russia and the world?

First, he showed that one could be a great statesman without noble birth. His career proved: in Russia talent matters more than pedigree.

Second, he created a model for effective development of new territories. His colonization methods were studied and copied in different countries.

Third, he proved that empire could expand not only by force but through creation. The best way to hold conquered lands is to turn them into prospering regions.

Fourth, he showed an example of fruitful cooperation between ruler and subject. The alliance of Catherine and Potemkin became a model of effective state governance.

But most importantly – he left behind not just cities and fleet, but a tradition of service. A tradition according to which a statesman should think not of personal gain but of the country's and people's welfare.

**Memory**

In Sevastopol's center still stands a monument to Prince Potemkin. The bronze figure faces the sea – that Black Sea which he made Russian.

On the pedestal are carved the words: "To His Serene Highness Prince Grigory Alexandrovich Potemkin-Tauride, creator of the Black Sea Fleet and New Russia, from grateful Russia."

Every year on October 5, Potemkin's death day, people come to the monument. They bring flowers, read poems, remember history.

"He was a great man," old-timers say. "They don't make them like that anymore."

"Why don't they make them?" the young object. "They do. Not everyone just gets such a chance to change the world."

Perhaps they're right. Perhaps every generation has its Potemkins – people capable of creating civilizations and changing history's course.

But for this one needs not only talent and energy. One also needs circumstances, and luck, and readiness to pay any price for a great dream.

Grigory Potemkin paid this price in full. He gave Russia all of himself – mind, strength, health, life. And received immortality in return.

Immortality in the stone of cities he built.
Immortality in the steel of ships he created.
Immortality in the people's grateful memory.

**THE END**

---

*In bright memory of all who built and defended Prince Potemkin's cities*