her on November 6, 1801.
Sadly, the union was brief. Praskovya died from tuberculosis just two years laterâthree weeks after giving birth to the coupleâs only child, a son named Dmitriy.
Sheremetev shocked Russian society by disclosing the marriage in a letter to the tsar after his wifeâs death and asking that his son be recognized as his rightful heir. He also claimed that his wife had been a descendant of Polish nobility, a fiction he hoped would soften the blows he suspected might follow as the news of his marriage became public. It did not. Abandoned by his upper-crust friends, with few attending his wifeâs funeral or expressing condolences, Nikolay died lonely and bitter in 1809. He summed up his anguish, writing âI thought I had friends who loved me, respected me, and shared my pleasures. But when my wifeâs death put me in an almost desperate state, I found few people to comfort me and share my sorrow.â 4
The match between Pyotr and Nadezhda, was not nearly as controversial as some more famous love stories, but it was, nonetheless, unconventional. They were from distinctly different classesâand she was the older of the two. It is possible that they married simply because it was what their families ordered them to do. But it is also possible that Pyotr and Nadezhda shared a deep passion and love.
For whatever reason, they carried on, like so many others, at a distance. Women often remained in the villages while their husbands worked in larger towns and cities. In Moscow, men outnumbered women by almost two to one. Still, Pyotr and Nadezhda were together enough to produce their first child, a boy named Nikolay, on December 4, 1852. He died more than two months later from epilepsy, as church records show, a common affliction and cause of infant deaths at the time. Nadezhda was particularly shaken by the loss. She never got pregnant again and succumbed to a sudden fever just three years later.
Pyotr, at only twenty-four, had buried a son and a wife. Hethrew himself into work, drowning his sorrows in the constant motions of daily living. He also stayed abreast of another politically pressing matterâthe Crimean War. It was a devastating conflict that pitted Russia against a coalition comprised of the United Kingdom, France, the Ottoman Empire, and the Kingdom of Sardinia. The dispute stemmed from unresolved issues in the Middle East, including the question of who would control some of the regionâs holiest places. The consequences of this war, which produced one of Russiaâs worst military defeats, would prove pivotal to the future of Russiaâand to the Smirnovs as well.
Â
R USSIA WAS DEVASTATED in the three-year Crimean battle. It lost 259,000 people to a better-financed, more sophisticated, well-trained enemy. While Russia still used flinty smoothbore muskets, its rivals fired the latest long-range rifled muskets. While Russia relied on a fleet of sailing vessels, its opposition sent a squadron of the more-modern screw-propelled warships. While the coalition was made up of skilled military leaders and loyal, well-trained foot soldiers, the Russian Army consisted largely of peasants and serfs called up to serve just as war broke out. They often fought for days without proper supplies or reinforcements because the country lacked a rail system that connected the economic and population centers with the battlefields.
The famous 349-day siege of Sevastopol in 1854â55, in which a young Tolstoy fought, was a crushing blow to Russiaâs esteem and international reputationâeven though Russian soldiers held the city for nearly a year. In that battle, the Russians were overwhelmed; the technical shortcomings of the armory and national infrastructure were no longer a subject of wonder, they were an internally recognized fact. By the end of the Crimean War in 1856, the military powers of the Allies (British, French,Turkish) had humiliated Russiaâs
Sadly, the union was brief. Praskovya died from tuberculosis just two years laterâthree weeks after giving birth to the coupleâs only child, a son named Dmitriy.
Sheremetev shocked Russian society by disclosing the marriage in a letter to the tsar after his wifeâs death and asking that his son be recognized as his rightful heir. He also claimed that his wife had been a descendant of Polish nobility, a fiction he hoped would soften the blows he suspected might follow as the news of his marriage became public. It did not. Abandoned by his upper-crust friends, with few attending his wifeâs funeral or expressing condolences, Nikolay died lonely and bitter in 1809. He summed up his anguish, writing âI thought I had friends who loved me, respected me, and shared my pleasures. But when my wifeâs death put me in an almost desperate state, I found few people to comfort me and share my sorrow.â 4
The match between Pyotr and Nadezhda, was not nearly as controversial as some more famous love stories, but it was, nonetheless, unconventional. They were from distinctly different classesâand she was the older of the two. It is possible that they married simply because it was what their families ordered them to do. But it is also possible that Pyotr and Nadezhda shared a deep passion and love.
For whatever reason, they carried on, like so many others, at a distance. Women often remained in the villages while their husbands worked in larger towns and cities. In Moscow, men outnumbered women by almost two to one. Still, Pyotr and Nadezhda were together enough to produce their first child, a boy named Nikolay, on December 4, 1852. He died more than two months later from epilepsy, as church records show, a common affliction and cause of infant deaths at the time. Nadezhda was particularly shaken by the loss. She never got pregnant again and succumbed to a sudden fever just three years later.
Pyotr, at only twenty-four, had buried a son and a wife. Hethrew himself into work, drowning his sorrows in the constant motions of daily living. He also stayed abreast of another politically pressing matterâthe Crimean War. It was a devastating conflict that pitted Russia against a coalition comprised of the United Kingdom, France, the Ottoman Empire, and the Kingdom of Sardinia. The dispute stemmed from unresolved issues in the Middle East, including the question of who would control some of the regionâs holiest places. The consequences of this war, which produced one of Russiaâs worst military defeats, would prove pivotal to the future of Russiaâand to the Smirnovs as well.
Â
R USSIA WAS DEVASTATED in the three-year Crimean battle. It lost 259,000 people to a better-financed, more sophisticated, well-trained enemy. While Russia still used flinty smoothbore muskets, its rivals fired the latest long-range rifled muskets. While Russia relied on a fleet of sailing vessels, its opposition sent a squadron of the more-modern screw-propelled warships. While the coalition was made up of skilled military leaders and loyal, well-trained foot soldiers, the Russian Army consisted largely of peasants and serfs called up to serve just as war broke out. They often fought for days without proper supplies or reinforcements because the country lacked a rail system that connected the economic and population centers with the battlefields.
The famous 349-day siege of Sevastopol in 1854â55, in which a young Tolstoy fought, was a crushing blow to Russiaâs esteem and international reputationâeven though Russian soldiers held the city for nearly a year. In that battle, the Russians were overwhelmed; the technical shortcomings of the armory and national infrastructure were no longer a subject of wonder, they were an internally recognized fact. By the end of the Crimean War in 1856, the military powers of the Allies (British, French,Turkish) had humiliated Russiaâs
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