Protecting the health of subjects
During a diplomatic mission to Europe in 1697-1698, known as the Grand Embassy, Tsar Peter I showed a growing curiosity about medicine. While staying in the Netherlands, he attended anatomy lectures, observed dissections, and even learned basic dental work after acquiring a dental box from a local craftsman.
When he returned home, the new knowledge found immediate practice. The Grand Duke of All Russia joined in hospital autopsies and surgeries, and even attempted simple procedures himself. He helped with limb amputations and took obvious pleasure in the results.
Peter the Great admired dentistry more than surgery, yet he viewed dental care through a harsh lens. When patients showed signs of disease in their teeth, he sometimes removed them himself, regardless of age or status. He even collected several teeth in a small bag as trophies. Today Kunstkamera in St. Petersburg, a Museum of Anthropology and Ethnography, preserves a record of the teeth pulled by the emperor as part of its curious early exhibits.
All “freaks and monsters” – to the king
The emperor did not only amass teeth; he curated much of the museum’s early collection. His fascination with bodily oddities and deformities shaped the Kunstkamera’s mission from the start, and he played a pivotal role in displaying unusual specimens.
During the Grand Embassy, Peter noticed the European interest in antiquities and sought out notable collections. He was drawn to the Amsterdam pharmacist Albert Seba, who assembled a global menagerie of preserved creatures. Peter acquired many curiosities to bring back to St. Petersburg in exchange for guilders, loading two ships with preserved animals, birds, reptiles, and other strange relics.
Yet the king’s fascination extended far beyond curiosities. He purchased works from Dutch anatomist Frederick Ruysch, whose displays included dismembered bodies, organs, fetuses, and unusual pathologies. These items found a home in St. Petersburg and remain part of the Kunstkamera’s storied holdings.
As his interest grew, Peter pursued ever more unusual specimens. In 1704, collections of human, animal, and freakish creatures were cataloged, and by 1718, the state began cataloging and collecting these oddities as public exhibits. The king’s orders ensured that many extraordinary beings would be preserved and shown in the museum, which later opened to the public, even though he did not live to see that moment.
Dwarves are for laughs, giants are for war
Nonstandard people, especially dwarves, fascinated Peter I. He encountered court dwarves early on and formed a close bond with one named Yakov Volkov, never parting from him in those early years. The emperor created elaborate games and royal spectacles featuring the little people, staging battles and parades in which dwarves wore miniature uniforms and acted out historic campaigns.
As he grew older, Peter pursued a broader, more ambitious goal of expanding the realm of human variation. He arranged weddings and gatherings that involved the country’s dwarves, celebrating their presence in grand fashion at religious ceremonies and banquets alike. The aim appeared to be entertainment, though the consequences and ethics of such practices are seen today as troubling.
Plans to increase the number of dwarves did not bear fruit, so the monarch shifted his attention toward giants. A notable encounter occurred in France in 1717, where he met a towering figure named Nicolas Bourgeois, nearly 2.3 meters tall. The idea was to assemble a formidable force of giants to demonstrate power and strength. Bourgeois joined the court and was wed to a local acquaintance, but this experiment also faltered as time passed. Bourgeois eventually died, and his remains were placed in the Kunstkamera as part of the collection.