by Vyacheslav LOPATIN, historian and director at the Science Films Studio (Tsentrnauchfilm)

In the present article we pay tribute to the memory of an outstanding Russian statesman Prince Grigory Potyomkin (1739- 1791) who left this world exactly 210 years ago. "He was a man of lofty mind," Empress Catherine II wrote about him, "a man of rare intelligence and excellent heart; his aims were always directed towards the great." Prince Potyomkin masterminded one of the projects of the 18th century - the integration of the Crimea and nearby territories north of the Black Sea within Russia and their further development. A man who founded such cities as Sevastopol (Sebastopol), Kherson, Yekaterinoslavl and hundreds of other communities, big and small. All that in a few years! Within a just as short span of time he built a Black Sea Fleet (navy and merchant marine) and an army of many regiments strong. In her tribute Catherine the Great praised Prince Potyomkin for clearing Tauris from the Tartar hordes menacing the Russian Empire, and for many other accomplishments. And yet... the proverbial "Potyomkin villages", a synonym of bluff and eyewash. Staged events?..

Articles in this rubric reflect the opinion of the author. - Ed.

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Let's see how it really was. Russia joined the territory of the Crimean khanate in 1783, thus putting a victorious end to the struggle that the Russian state had been waging against the Tartar-Mongol conquerors for centuries. Empress Catherine II (Catherine the Great) entrusted the governance of the new province - Tauris as it was known then - to Prince Grigory Alexandrovich Potyomkin who shouldered the brunt of responsibility for the colonization and development of those lands. The barren steppe, whence the Crimean hordes were making their marauding raids on Russia, was colonized by Russian settlers, with new villages springing up every twenty or thirty Russian versts (kilometers) apart. His Highness invited colonists to settle the land - plant forests and vineyards, built towns with churches, schools, factories, shipyards and printing-houses...

This hectic involvement aroused jealousy among high-placed courtiers who deemed the empress had bestowed all too much power on her minion; and so all kinds of rumors were spread: that Potyomkin set his sights high, that he hatched plans of installing himself as an independent ruler in Russia's south, that he wanted to seize the territory of the former Byzantine Empire conquered by the Turks. And that sort of gibberish.

Thus Prince Potyomkin made bitter enemies among the court, such as Count Alexander Wontsov and his sister, Princess Yekaterina Dashkova. Other ill-wishers, who made short trips down south now and then, would whisper to Catherine about the ostensibly deplorable situation in the army, about abuse in the allotment of landed estates; all the foreigners, they said, whom Potyomkin invited to settle on free lands, perished through his guilt because of the absence of homes or "any other accommodations".

The court schemers tried to capitalize on the authority of Count Pyotr Rumyantsev, the field-marshal under whom Potyomkin had seen many a baptism by fire. Being the governor of Small Russia (Ukraine), the old general could get in touch with Potyomkin for business, they reasoned. Yet Count Rumyantsev always thought highly of Potyomkin's talents and merits.

As a matter of fact, Potyomkin was more than a minion of the empress-he was her "significant other" and second in governance. So Catherine had to defuse the tensions someway For this purpose she decided to undertake a long journey to the southern parts. Having an abiding faith in Potyomkin and his talents, the sovereign wanted to placate the hostile moods among the ruling quarters of St. Petersburg. Not aware of that, the ill-wishers rubbed their hands in glee: the empress would see for herself cases of misrule and embezzlement imputed to the prince. The journey, scheduled for 1784, had to be postponed because of a plague epidemic.

Two years later, as the epidemic had subsided, the court resumed preparations for the journey Meanwhile Potyomkin's adversaries, green with envy, stepped up their activities. This time they made use of another court favorite, General Alexei Yermolov We have testimony to this effect from Count Solms, the Prussian ambassador in St. Petersburg; his king, Friedrich II, ordered that he should report in detail about infighting at the Russian court. In his dispatch of May 1, 1786, the Prussian ambassador wrote that the prince's enemies, acting through Yermolov, all but succeeded in their intrigues-so much so that the empress was "on the point of believing their innuendoes and seizing all the papers from Potyomkin and banishing him to the country"... Yet the envious courtiers

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failed to topple the prince-much otherwise: General Yermolov fell from grace and was sent on a trip abroad. As to Prince Potyomkin, he returned to Tauris early in October of 1786.

The Russian sovereign had another aim in undertaking her journey to the south: display to advantage Russia's achievements in the colonization of the southern lands. Russia's friends and enemies should see that. Her Majesty invited the British, French and Austrian ambassadors and envoys to join her retinue of three thousand.

In their letters the foreigners gave a circumstantial account of what they saw over there. We have eyewitness testimonies from Prince Charles de Ligne of Belgium in the Austrian service, a man friendly towards Russia; from the Austrian Emperor Joseph II, always eager to feel with his own hands what he saw; from the French Ambassador Count L.F. Segur, rather cautious toward Russia, and from others who were with the Russian court. In the course of her journey Her Majesty would send regular messages to St. Petersburg and Moscow in which she, rebutting malicious slander, predicted a great future for the new lands. So we have copious evidence on the royal journey in those parts. Here are some of the accounts dealing with the territories under Potyomkin's immediate rule. One from the French Ambassador Count L. F. Segur: "When he took over these vast regions, they had a population of 204,000; but under his rule, within a few years, it rose to 800,000 - the number insignificant yet for a space 800 versts in length and 400 in width. This increment in population numbers was due to Greek, German, and Polish colonists as well as to invalids and retired army soldiers and sailors. A Frenchman, who had settled here three years before our arrival, told

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me that traveling through this land every year, he could see newly built rich settlements where there had been but barren wastes a year before...

"While at Kremenchug, Potyomkin stages a show of big exercises that involved 45 squadrons on horse and large numbers on foot. I have but seldom seen a gallant and brilliant troop like that..."

In her epistle to Governor-General Pyotr Yeropkin Catherine the Great enlarged on many particulars on what she had seen at Kremenchug. "Here I have found a third of the excellent light horse which, as some ignorant people would repeat time and again, were on paper only. Yet it was there, and without peer at that! I beg you to tell all that to the inquisitive lot and please, refer to my letter to make those people stop telling an untruth and have them rather do justice in their diligent service to me and the empire..."

But that was only the beginning. What Her Majesty saw surpassed all her expectations. She was pleased and delighted. Prince Potyomkin commissioned the job of building a new town, Kherson, to Ivan Hannibal, son of the famous blackamoor Abram Hannibal much in favor with Peter the Great, and to Count Alexei Orlov, who led the Russian Navy in its glorious campaign in the Mediterranean (1769-1774). Monsieur Segur was impressed by the sight of Kherson which rose like a fata morgana after a long and tedious journey of 400 versts. He and his men marveled at so many magnificent edifices there. "We saw a fort well-nigh completed, barracks for 80,000 men, an admiralty and what belongs to it, an arsenal of up to 600 cannon, two men-of-war and a frigate that were to be launched..." Count Segur also mentions public edifices erected every here and there, churches of superb architecture, 2,000 dwelling-houses and shops filled with merchandise from Greece, Constantinople and France; he says as many as 200 merchantmen have cast anchor in the Kherson harbor. The French envoy makes mention of a labor force of 18,000 workmen and of an excellent troop; there were foreign diplomats and travelers in those parts which Russia had acquired shortly before, by the peace treaty with Turkey, and cleared of the Tartar hordes but three years before. "You can imagine to what extent this spectacular sight gratified the vanity of the empress, and what the surprise of those present was, their jubilation in praising Potyomkin for his talents and gifts..."

But the port of Sebastopol was the greatest wonder. His Highness had made a secret trip to Tauris, or the Crimea, before it became a part of Russia. In his letter to the empress he extolled the merits of "the world's best harbor" where the new town and port, Sebastopol, was to be founded. Catherine II ordered Russian forces to occupy the harbor and dispatch thither part of the Azov and Dnieper flotillas. In August 1783 Potyomkin was put in charge of the Black Sea Fleet. The next year Her Majesty had the Tartar village of Akhtiar renamed into Sebastopol (Sevastopol), or a "famous town" in Greek. As she arrived in Sebastopol on the 25th of April 1787, there were 40 naval and auxiliary ships in the roadstead. Meanwhile Potyomkin had built a palace on the Inkerman Heights 14 versts outside the town for her arrival. That became the climacteric point of the royal journey As the empress and her retinue sat down to dinner, Potyomkin drew aside the window curtains, and Empress Catherine II, King Joseph II of Austria, venerable diplomats and guests caught sight of the wonderful harbor and fleet that came as if by a magic wand.

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All those present gasped sin wonder, Count Segurin particular. "... An august panorama spread before our eyes: behind the broken ranks of Tartar horsemen we espied a bay 12 versts in length and 4 in width; this bay gave way to a sea, while from the refectory where we were dining we could see in the haven a formidable navy all in battle order-built, armed and fully equipped in two years. Her Majesty was saluted by a gun salvo, and the rumble of these guns seemed to announce to the Pontus Euxinus it had a mistress and that in more than 30 hours Her ships might turn up at Constantinople, with the banners of Her army flying over its walls..."

Even the Austrian Emperor Joseph II, chary of praise, made an exception in his daily letters to his friend Field-Marshal Franz Lassie. The old grumbler who had found fault with everything he saw in Kherson (the fort being too high, its walls all too steep, the hawsers and ropes of ships not up to the mark, and medics too bad...)-he was captivated by Sebastopol. "... All the seamen were dressed on the yards: judging by their number, they were strong enough for the exercise of duties on board... That was a beautiful sight beyond compare.

"Sebastopol is the nicest port I have ever seen. It can accommodate quite conveniently a hundred and a half ships in total security against any accidents of fortune, be it from the sea or the enemy who shall never venture into the harbor defended by three batteries. The harbor is open to three fair winds. There is a separate haven for merchantmen, another one for quarantine, and a third one for ship repairs and careenage...

"There have already been built many houses and barracks; and should this keep up in the next three years, it is going to be a much flourishing city indeed. All that goes against the grain with the French ambassador, and he looks puzzled a good deal."

"The usual passage hence to Constantinople takes two days, sometimes even a day and a half. Now judge for yourself, my good marshal, what kind of unpalatable thoughts should all that elicit in my cofrere, a sovereign of the faithful, who can never be sure lest these fine fellows should show up-if not today then tomorrow-to smash his windows by cannon..."

Though much concerned over Russian military power, the French ambassador, Segur was lavish in his praise upon inspecting Sebastopol. "... Having sailed across the bay we moored at the foot of the mountain upon which Sebastopol, built by Catherine, rises in semicircle. A few storehouses for merchandise, the admiralty, town fortifications, 400 homes, crowds of workmen, a strong garrison, two hospitals, wharves, as well as two jetties, the merchant and the quarantine one - all that gave Sebastopol a fairly significant aspect. It seemed incomprehensible to us how it could be that 2,000 versts away from the capital, in a land acquired but recently, did Potyomkin find it possible to build a city like that, to create a navy, fortify the harbor and settle so many people: it was indeed a feat of prodigious involvement."

Count Potyomkin was quite meticulous about his expenditures. He would turn a complete bill to the empress as to what was built, about the number of troops engaged in exercises, and how much money was spent. The same held for Sebastopol. In his message to Catherine His Highness listed all the homes and edifices built there. "This port has never been inhabited; all that Your Highness sees and what is shown in my note, i.e. the building belonging to the treasury, costs no more than 20,000 rubles." The Empress was staggered at a low bill like that. "It's incredible!" And she ordered more money from the state coffers to each workman.

The southern journey of Catherine II and her court culminated in grand military exercises at Poltava in the Ukraine, just where Peter the Great routed the invading Swedish army led by King Karl XII. The empress and her guests could watch the show of that battle that forged the doom of the Swedish king - his star was set thereupon. After that show Prince Potyomkin received the highest title of merit added to his name - he became His Highness Prince Potyomkin of Tauris. Indeed, he did his best in demonstrating to his sovereign and to Europe the achievements of Russia in gaining a steady foothold on the shores of the Black Sea: our country, mind you, had a mighty force to defend its southern frontiers.

For more than a quarter of a century the author of the present article has been rummaging in the archives; he has perused thousands of documents belonging to Catherine II, Potyomkin, Rumyantsev, Suvorov and other "Catherinian eagles". But hard as I searched, I could find no document so much as hinting at the grandiose show of the Poltava battle staged by the Prince of Tauris in the des-

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olate steppes of the Ukraine. But none of the guests, be it Count Segur or British ambassador E. Fitzberg, questioned the truth of what Potyomkin had to show Russian historians have made an estimate of the gains from the policies of Catherine the Great and Potyomkin on the Black Sea coast and adjacent areas in Russia's south. Early in the 19th century Russia's annual export of grain topped "two million quarts, worth more than 12 million rubles, an immense figure for those times," said Georgi Vernadsky at the opening ceremony of the Crimean Central Archives in 1919.

Yet the journey was no sooner over than there came rumor and hearsay: what was shown in its course was but sham and window- dressing. Prince Charles de Ligne of Belgium, a close friend of the Austrian emperor's and an eminent general and writer, was indignant. "They have already concocted a fable," he wrote in the wake of the journey, "that in the course of our travel we were shown homes, cannon and ships drawn on cardboard, and also cavalry without horses, and suchlike bunkum."

In yet another ten years the Hamburg-published magazine Minerva started a series of anonymous articles which contended all that the travelers had seen in Russia's south was bluff. Makeshift stage scenery depicted towns and villages. Nights crowds of people and herds of cattle were driven to new places where the empress could see them again and judge about the wealth and prosperity of Russia's southern provinces.

Historians have identified the man accusing the then late Prince Potyomkin of staging make-believe villages. That was Georg von Hehlbig, a career diplomat from Saxony who served in St. Petersburg at the end of Catherine's reign. And even though he had never taken part in that epical voyage, he was one to start the ball rolling about the proverbial "Potyomkin villages", something meant to make Russia a byword.

While returning from the Crimea to the capital, Her Majesty was in for bad news: Turkey declared war on Russia; Sweden did the same thing half a year later. A war on two fronts, astern policy- makers hoped, would both check Russia's thrust southwards and weaken the state - so much so that its partitioning might become possible. The British navy was poised for a strike at Kronstadt, a fortress protecting the Russian capital in the Baltic Sea; Prussian and Polish armies were marching towards the Russian borders.

Yet their schemes failed dismally. Russia beat off the double blow and won, throwing Europe into tizzies. The West made yet another attempt to prod Turkey, or the Ottoman Empire, toward attacking Russia again. A bit of smear was needed therefore: Russia's achievements in the south were flimsy, they were a hoax designed to show that the Russian colossus had no feet of clay.

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Herr Hehlbig, the Saxonian diplomat, was quick on the uptake. He wrote a literary remake of the yams refuted by foreign travelers back in 1787.

Prince Potyomkin worked with as much abandon during the victorious campaign that Russia was waging against Turkey His Highness was greatly concerned about the safety of ships leaving Kherson. He found a proper place where the river Ingul emptied into the Bug. But he would rather not run the risk of founding a wharf there before the hostilities. But with the capture of the fortress of Ochakov (1788) the prince could proceed with his plans-he founded a town that was to become (and it did!) the shipbuilding center of the Russian Black Sea Fleet. It was named Nikolayev (in honor of the capture of Ochakov on December 6, the St. Nicholas Day). And, as early as August 27, 1790, the first frigate left the Nikolayev wharf.

The same year, an admiralty and an arcade were built, and ground broken for a big church. Potyomkin planned to open a naval college and a shipbuilding school, and found a monastery in the town's environs. Yet death prevented His Highness from carrying out these and many other plans. "In my opinion," Catherine II wrote in her obituary "Prince Potyomkin was a great man who did not accomplish even half of what he could do." Academician Evgeny Tarle (1874-1955), our eminent history writer, by right called Russia's achievements in Catherine's age a "phenomenon of world history".

Potyomkin never hunted glory for glory's sake. "As a Christian I see my glory in my service," he wrote to the empress in 1789. "There are so many of our brethren who are fond of boasting, who sing their own praises in their dispatches, who take all too much upon themselves, foresee every trifle and ascribe odd events to the consequences of their plans that had never been..."

"What concerns personal arrogance, I leave it to scoundrels bursting with envy toward me, and requiting good with dirty tricks; but I shall always abide by my precepts, that is: excel everybody in my ardent service to You, I shall serve you by sweat and by blood... I shall care for the people in my custody more than for my own self, consecrate achievements to God and hope for approval from my enemies."

Russia's great son he was indeed. His name is inscribed forever in the annals of our history.. Catherine II, his sovereign and mistress, died late in 1796; her son, Pavel (Paul) I succeeded to the throne. Talking to Vassily Popov, formerly in charge of Potyomkin's office, the new emperor asked thrice, "How shall we make good the evil that Potyomkin brought upon Russia?!" Popov retorted, "Give back the southern coast to the Turks!"

Grateful descendants honored His Highness Prince Potyomkin of Tauris with a monument erected at Kherson in the eighteen-thirties (sculptor, Ivan Martos). The money was collected through popular subscription.