[4] Karamsin, vol. ix., p. 436.
[5] Proverbs of Solomon, ix. 9.
THE REIGN OF VASSILI
From 1480 to 1533.
Alliance With Hungary.—A Traveler From Germany.—Treaty Between
Russia and Germany.—Embassage To Turkey.—Court Etiquette.—Death of
the Princess Sophia.—Death of Ivan.—Advancement of
Knowledge.—Succession of Vassili.—Attack Upon the Horde.—Rout of
the Russians.—The Grand Prince Takes the Title of Emperor.—Turkish
Envoy To Moscow.—Efforts To Arm Europe Against the Turks.—Death of
the Emperor Maximilian, and Accession of Charles V. To the Empire of
Germany.—Death of Vassili.
The retreat of the Tartars did not redound much to the glory of Ivan. The citizens of Moscow, in the midst of their rejoicings, were far from being satisfied with their sovereign. They thought that he had not exhibited that courage which characterizes grand souls, and that he had been signally wanting in that devotion which leads one to sacrifice himself for the good of his country. They lavished, however, their praises upon the clergy, especially upon the Archbishop Vassian, whose letter to the grand prince was read and re-read throughout the kingdom with the greatest enthusiasm. This noble prelate, whose Christian heroism had saved his country, soon after fell sick and died, deplored by all Russia.
Hungary was at this time governed by Matthias, son of the renowned Hunniades,[6] a prince equally renowned for his valor and his genius. Matthias, threatened by Poland, sent embassadors to Russia to seek alliance with Ivan III. Eagerly Russia accepted the proposition, and entered into friendly connections with Hungary, which kingdom was then, in civilization, quite in advance of the northern empire.
In the year 1486, an illustrious cavalier, named Nicholas Poppel, visited Russia, taking a letter of introduction to the grand prince from Frederic III., Emperor of Germany. He had no particular mission, and was led only by motives of curiosity. "I have seen," said the traveler, "all the Christian countries and all the kings, and I wished, also, to see Russia and the grand prince."
The lords at Moscow had no faith in these words, and were persuaded that he was a spy sent by their enemy, the King of Poland. Though they watched him narrowly, he was not incommoded, and left the kingdom after having satisfied his desire to see all that was remarkable. His report to the German emperor was such that, two years after, he returned, in the quality of an embassador from Frederic III., with a letter to Ivan III., dated Ulm, December 26th, 1488. The nobles now received Poppel with great cordiality. He said to them:
"After having left Russia, I went to find the emperor and the princes of Germany at Nuremburg. I spent a long time giving them information respecting your country and the grand prince. I corrected the false impression, conceived by them, that Ivan III. was but the vassal of Casimir, King of Poland. 'That is impossible,' I said to them. 'The monarch of Moscow is much more powerful and much richer than the King of Poland. His estates are immense, his people numerous, his wisdom extraordinary.' All the court listened to me with astonishment, and especially the emperor himself, who often invited me to dine, and passed hours with me conversing upon Russia. At length, the emperor, desiring to enter into an alliance with the grand prince, has sent me to the court of your majesty as his embassador."
He then solicited, in the name of Frederic III., the hand of Ivan's daughter, Helen, for the nephew of the emperor, Albert, margrave of Baden. The proposition for the marriage of the daughter of the grand prince with a mere margrave was coldly received. Ivan, however, sent an embassador to Germany with the following instructions:
"Should the emperor ask if the grand prince will consent to the marriage of his daughter with the margrave of Baden, reply that such an alliance is not worthy of the grandeur of the Russian monarch, brother of the ancient emperors of Greece, who, in establishing themselves at Constantinople, ceded the city of Rome to the popes. Leave the emperor, however, to see that there is some hope of success should he desire one of our princesses for his son, the King Maximilian."
The Russian embassador was received in Germany with the most flattering attentions, even being conducted to a seat upon the throne by the side of the emperor. It is said that Maximilian, who was then a widower, wished to marry Helen, the daughter of the grand prince, but he wished, very naturally, first to see her through the eyes of his embassador, and to ascertain the amount of her dowry. To this request a polite refusal was returned.
"How could one suppose," writes the Russian historian Karamsin, "that an illustrious monarch and a princess, his daughter, could consent to the affront of submitting the princess to the judgment of a foreign minister, who might declare her unworthy of his master?"
The pride of the Russian court was touched, and the emperor's embassador was informed, in very plain language, that the grand prince was not at all disposed to make a matter of merchandise of his daughter—that, after her marriage, the grand prince would present her with a dowry such as he should deem proportionate to the rank of the united pair, and that, above all, should she marry Maximilian, she should not change her religion, but should always have residing with her chaplains of the Greek church. Thus terminated the question of the marriage. A treaty, however, of alliance was formed between the two nations which was signed at Moscow, August 16th, 1490. In this treaty, Ivan III. subscribes himself, "by the grace of God, monarch of all the Russias, prince of Vladimir, Moscow, Novgorod, Pskof, Yougra, Viatha, Perme and Bulgaria." We thus see what portion of the country was then deemed subject to his sway.
Ivan III., continually occupied in extending, consolidating and developing the resources of his vast empire, could not but look with jealousy upon the encroachments of the Turks, who had already overrun all Greece, who had taken a large part of Hungary, and who were surging up the Danube in wave after wave of terrible invasion. Still, sound judgment taught him that the hour had not yet come for him to interpose; that it was his present policy to devote all his energies to the increase of Russian wealth and power. It was a matter of the first importance that Russia should enjoy the privileges of commerce with those cities of Greece now occupied by the Turks, to which Russia had access through the Dnieper and the Don, and partially through the vast floods of the Volga. But the Russian merchants were incessantly annoyed by the oppression of the lawless Turks. The following letter from Ivan III. to the Sultan Bajazet II., gives one a very clear idea of the relations existing between the two countries at that time. It is dated Moscow, August 31st, 1492.
"To Bajazet, Sultan, King of the princes of Turkey, Sovereign of the earth and of the sea, we, Ivan III., by the grace of God, only true and hereditary monarch of all the Russias, and of many other countries of the North and of the East; behold! that which we deem it our duty to write to your majesty. We have never sent embassadors to each other with friendly greetings. Nevertheless, the Russian merchants have traversed your estates in the exercise of a traffic advantageous to both of our empires. Often they complain to me of the vexations they encounter from your magistrates, but I have kept silence. The last summer, the pacha of Azof forced them to dig a ditch, and to carry stones for the construction of the edifices of the city; more than this, they have compelled our merchants of Azof and of Caffa to dispose of their merchandise for one half their value. If any one of the merchants happens to fall sick, the magistrates place seals upon the goods of all, and, if he dies, the State seizes all these goods, and restores but half if he recover. No regard is paid to the clauses of a will, the Turkish magistrates recognizing no heirs but themselves to the property of the Russians.
"Such glaring injustice has compelled me to forbid my merchants to engage in traffic in your country. From whence come these acts of violence? Formerly these merchants paid only the legal tax, and they were permitted to trade without annoyance. Are you aware of this, or not? One word more. Mahomet II., your father, was a prince of grandeur and renown. He wished, it is reported, to send to us embassadors, proposing friendly relations. Providence frustrated the execution of this project. But why should we not now see the accomplishment of this plan? We await your response."
The Russian embassador received orders from Ivan III. to present his document to the sultan, standing, and not upon his knees, as was the custom in the Turkish court; he was not to yield precedence to the embassador of any other nation whatever, and was to address himself only to the sultan, and not to the pachas. Plestchief, the Russian envoy, obeyed his instructions to the letter, and by his haughty bearing excited the indignation of the Turkish nobles. The pacha of Constantinople received him with great politeness, loaded him with attentions, invited him to dine, and begged him to accept of a present of some rich dresses, and a purse of ten thousand sequins. The haughty Russian declined the invitation to dine, returning the purse and the robes with the ungracious response,
"I have nothing to say to pachas. I have no need to wear their clothes, neither have I any need of their money. I wish only to speak to the sultan."
Notwithstanding this arrogance, Bajazet II., the sultan, received Plestchief politely, and returned a conciliatory answer to the grand prince, promising the redress of those grievances of which he complained. The Turk was decidedly more civilized than the Christian. He wrote to Mengli Ghirei, the pacha of the Crimea, where most of these annoyances had occurred:
"The monarch of Russia, with whom I desire to live in friendly relations, has sent to me a clown. I can not consequently allow any of my people to accompany him back to Russia, lest they should find him offensive. Respected as I am from the east to the west, I blush in being exposed to such an affront. It is in consequence my wish that my son, the sultan of Caffa, should correspond directly with the grand prince of Moscow."
With a sense of delicacy as attractive as it is rare, Bajazet II. refrained from complaining of the boorishness of the Russian envoy, but wrote to the grand prince, Ivan III., in the following courteous terms:
"You have sent, in the sincerity of your soul, one of your lords to the threshold of my palace. He has seen me and has handed me your letter, which I have pressed to my heart, since you have expressed a desire to become my friend. Let your embassadors and your merchants no longer fear to frequent our country. They have only to come to certify to the veracity of all which your envoy will report to you from us. May God grant him a prosperous journey and the grace to convey to you our profound salutation—to you and to your friends; for those whom you love are equally dear to us."
In the whole of this transaction the Turkish court appears far superior to the Russian in the refinements and graces of polished life. There seems to be something in a southern clime which ameliorates harshness of manners. The Grecian emperors, perhaps, in abandoning their palaces, left also to their conquerors that suavity which has transmitted even to our day the enviable title of the "polished Greek."
In the year 1503, Ivan III. lost his spouse, the Greek princess Sophia. Her death affected the aged monarch deeply, and seriously impaired his health. Twenty-five years had now elapsed since he received the young and beautiful princess as his bride, and during all these tumultuous years her genius and attractions had been the most brilliant ornament of his court. The infirmities of age pressed heavily upon the king, and it was manifest that his days could not much longer be prolonged. With much ceremony, in the presence of his lords, he dictated his will, declaring his oldest son Vassili to be his successor as monarch, and assigning to all his younger children rich possessions. The passion for the aggrandizement of Russia still glowed strongly in his bosom even in the hour of death. Vassili, though twenty-five years of age, was as yet unmarried. He decided to select his spouse from the daughters of the Russian nobles, and fifteen hundred of the most beautiful belles of the kingdom were brought to the court that the prince, from among them, might make his selection. The choice fell upon a maiden of exquisite beauty, of Tartar descent. Her father was an officer in the army, a son of one of the chiefs of the horde. The marriage was immediately consummated, and all Moscow was in a blaze of illumination, rejoicing over the nuptials of the heir to the crown. The decay of the aged monarch, however, advanced, day by day. His death, at last, was quite sudden, in the night of the 27th of October, 1505, at the age of sixty-six years and nine months, and at the close of a reign of forty three years and a half.
Ivan III. will, through all ages, retain the rank of one of the most illustrious of the sovereigns of Russia. The excellencies of his character and the length of his reign, combined in enabling him to give an abiding direction to the career of his country. He made his appearance on the political stage just in the time when a new system of government, favorable to the power of the sovereigns of Europe, was rising upon the ruins of feudalism. The royal authority was gaining rapidly in England and in France. Spain, freed from the domination of the Moors, had just become a power of the first rank. The fleets of Portugal were whitening the most distant seas, conferring upon the energetic kingdom wonderful wealth and power. Italy, though divided, exulted in her fleet, her maritime wealth, and her elevation above all other nations in the arts, the sciences and the intrigues of politics. Frederic IV., Emperor of Germany, an inefficient, apathetic man, was unable to restore repose to the empire, distracted by civil war. His energetic son, Maximilian, was already meditating that political change which should give new strength to the monarch, and which finally raised the house of Austria to the highest point of earthly grandeur. Hungary, Bohemia and Poland, governed by near relatives, might almost be considered as a single power, and they were, as by instinct, allied with Austria in endeavors to resist the encroachments of the Turks.
Inventions and discoveries of the greatest importance were made in the world during the reign of Ivan III. Gutenberg and Faust in Strasbourg invented the art of printing. Christopher Columbus discovered the New World. Until then the productions of India reached central Europe through Persia, the Caspian Sea and the Sea of Azof. On the 20th of November, 1497, Vasco de Gama doubled the Cape of Good Hope, thus opening a new route to the Indies, and adding immeasurably to the enterprise and wealth of the world. A new epoch seemed to dawn upon mankind, favorable at least to the tranquillity of nations, the progress of civilization and the strength of governments. Thus far Russia, in her remote seclusion, had taken no part in the politics of Europe. It was not until the reign of Ivan III. that this great northern empire emerged from that state of chaos in which she had neither possessed definiteness of form nor assured existence.
Ivan III. found his nation in subjection to the Tartars. He threw off the yoke; became one of the most illustrious monarchs in Europe, commanding respect throughout Christendom; he took his position by the side of emperors and sultans, and by the native energies of his mind, unenlightened by study, he gave the wisest precepts for the internal and the external government of his realms. But he was a rude, stern man, the legitimate growth of those savage times. It is recorded that a single angry look from him would make any woman faint; that at the table the nobles trembled before him, not daring to utter a word.
Vassili now ascended the throne, and with great energy carried out the principles established by his father. The first important measure of the new monarch was to fit out an expedition against the still powerful but vagabond horde at Kezan, on the Volga, to punish them for some acts of insubordination. A powerful armament descended the Volga in barges. The infantry landed near Kezan on the 22d of May, 1506. The Tartars, with a numerous array of cavalry, were ready to receive their assailants, and fell upon them with such impetuosity and courage that the Russians were overpowered, and driven back, with much slaughter, to their boats. They consequently retreated to await the arrival of the cavalry. The Tartars, imagining that the foe, utterly discomfited, had fled back to Moscow, surrendered themselves to excessive joy. A month passed away, and on the 22d of June an immense assemblage of uncounted thousands of Tartars were gathered in festivity on the plains of Arsk, which spread around their capital city. More than a thousand tents were spread upon the field. Merchants from all parts were gathered there displaying their goods, and a scene of festivity and splendor was exhibited, such as modern civilization has never paralleled.
Suddenly the Russian army, horse and infantry, were seen upon the plain, as if they had dropped from the clouds. They rushed upon the encampment, cutting down the terrified multitude, with awful butchery, and trampling them beneath their horses' feet. The fugitives, in dismay, sought to regain the city, crushing each other in their flight and in the desperate endeavor to crowd in at the gates and along the narrow streets. The Russians, exhausted by their victory, and lured by the luxuries which filled the tents, instead of taking the city by storm, as, in the confusion they probably could have done, surrendered themselves to pillage and voluptuous indulgence. They found the tents filled with food, liquors of all kinds and a great quantity of precious commodities, and forgetting they were in the presence of an enemy, they plunged into the wildest excesses of festivity and wassail.
The disgraceful carousal was briefly terminated during the night, but renewed, with additional zest, in the morning. The songs and the shouts of the drunken soldiers were heard in the streets of Kezan, and, from the battlements, the Tartars beheld these orgies, equaling the most frantic revels of pagan bacchanals. The Tartar khan, from the top of a bastion, watched the spectacle, and perceiving the negligence of his enemies, prepared for a surprise and for vengeance. On the 25th of June, just at the dawn of day, the gates were thrown open, and twenty thousand horsemen and thirty thousand infantry precipitated themselves with frightful yells upon the Russians, stupefied with sleep and wine. Though the Russians exceeded the Tartars two to one, yet they fled towards their boats like a flock of sheep, without order and without arms. The plain was speedily strewn with their dead bodies and crimsoned with their blood. Too much terrified to think even of resistance, they clambered into their barges, cut the cables, and pushed out into the stream. But for the valor of the Russian cavalry all would have been destroyed. In the deepest humiliation the fugitives returned to Moscow.
Vassili resolved upon another expedition which should inflict signal vengeance upon the horde. But while he was making his preparations, the khan, terrified in view of the storm which was gathering, sent an embassage to Moscow imploring pardon and peace, offering to deliver up all the prisoners and to take a new oath of homage to the grand prince. Vassili, who was just on the eve of a war with Poland, with alacrity accepted these concessions. The King of Poland had heard, with much joy, of the death of Ivan III., whose energetic arm he had greatly feared, and he now hoped to take advantage of the youth and inexperience of Vassili. A harassing warfare was commenced between Russia and Poland, which raged for several years. Peace was finally made, Russia extorting from Poland several important provinces.
In the year 1514, Vassili, entering into a treaty with Maximilian, the Emperor of Germany, laid aside the title of grand prince and assumed for himself that of emperor, which was Kayser in the German language and Tzar in the Russian. With great energy Vassili pushed the work of concentrating and extending his empire, every year strengthening his power over the distant principalities. Bajazet II., the Turkish sultan, the victim of a conspiracy, was dethroned by his son Selim. Vassili, wishing, for the sake of commerce, to maintain friendly relations with Turkey, sent an embassador to the new sultan. The embassador, Alexeief, was authorized to make all proper protestations of friendship, but to be very cautious not to compromit the dignity of his sovereign. He was instructed not to prostrate himself before the sultan, as was the oriental custom, but merely to offer his hands. He was to convey rich presents to Selim, with a letter from the Russian court, but was by no means to enquire for the health of the sultan, unless the sultan should first enquire for the health of the emperor.
Notwithstanding these chilling punctilios, Selim received the Russian embassador with much cordiality, and sent back with him a Turkish embassador to the court of Moscow. Nine months, from August to May, were occupied in the weary journey. While traversing the vast deserts of Veronage, their horses, exhausted and starving, sank beneath them, and they were obliged to toil along for weary leagues on foot, suffering from the want both of food and water. They nearly perished before reaching the frontiers of Rezan, but here they found horses and retinue awaiting them, sent by Vassili. Upon their arrival at Moscow, the Turkish embassador was received with great enthusiasm. It was deemed an honor, as yet unparalleled in Russia, that the terrible conquerors of Constantinople, before whose arms all Christendom was trembling, should send an embassador fifteen hundred miles to Moscow to seek the alliance of the emperor.
The Turkish envoy was received with great magnificence by Vassili, seated upon his throne, and surrounded by his nobles clad in robes of the most costly furs. The embassador, Theodoric Kamal, a Greek by birth, with the courtesy of the polished Greek, kneeling, kissed the hand of the emperor, presented him the letter of his master, the sultan, beautifully written upon parchment in Arabic letters, and assured the emperor of the wish of the sultan to live with him in eternal friendship. But the Turk, loud in protestations, was not disposed to alliance. It was evident that the office of a spy constituted the most important part of the mission of Kamal.
This embassador had but just left the court of Moscow when another appeared, from the Emperor Maximilian, of Germany. The message with which the Baron Herberstein was commissioned from the court of Vienna to the court of Moscow is sufficiently important to be recorded.
"Ought not sovereigns," said the embassador, "to seek the glory of religion and the happiness of their subjects? Such are the principles which have ever guided the emperor. If he has waged war, it has never been from the love of false glory, nor to seize the territories of others, but to punish those who have dared to provoke him. Despising danger, he has been seen in battle, exposing himself like the humblest soldier, and gaining victories against superior forces because the Almighty lends his arm to aid the virtuous.
"The Emperor of Germany is now reposing in the bosom of tranquillity. The pope and all the princes of Italy have become his allies. Spain, Naples, Sicily and twenty-six other realms recognize his grandson, Charles V., for their legitimate and hereditary monarch. The King of Portugal is attached to him by the ties of relationship, and the King of England by the bonds of sincere friendship. The sovereigns of Denmark and Hungary have married the grand-daughters of Maximilian, and the King of Poland testifies to unbounded confidence in him. I will not speak of your majesty, for the Emperor of Russia well knows how to appreciate the sentiments of the Emperor of Germany.
"The King of France and the republic of Venice, influenced by selfish interests, and disregarding the prosperity of Christianity, have taken no part in this fraternal alliance of all the rest of Europe; but they are now beginning to manifest a love for peace, and I have just learned that a treaty is about to be concluded with them, also. Let any one now cast a glance over the world and he will see but one Christian prince who is not attached to the Emperor Maximilian either by the ties of friendship or affection. All Christian Europe is in profound peace excepting Russia and Poland.
"Maximilian has sent me to your majesty, illustrious monarch, to entreat you to restore repose to Christianity and to your states. Peace causes empires to flourish; war destroys their resources and hastens their downfall. Who can be sure of victory? Fortune often frustrates the wisest plans.
"Thus far I have spoken in the name of my master. I wish now to add, that on my journey I have been informed, by the Turkish embassador himself, that the sultan has just captured Damascus, Jerusalem and all Egypt. A traveler, worthy of credence, has confirmed this deplorable intelligence. If, before these events, the power of the sultan inspired us with just fear, ought not this success of his arms to augment our apprehensions?"
Russia and Poland had long been engaged in a bloody frontier war, each endeavoring to wrest provinces from the other; but Russia was steadily on the advance. The embassage of Maximilian was not productive of peace. On the contrary, Vassili immediately sent an embassador to Vienna to endeavor to secure the aid of Austria in his war with Poland. Maximilian received the envoy with very extraordinary marks of favor. He was invited to sit, in the presence of the emperor, with his hat upon his head, and whenever the embassador, during the conference, mentioned the name of the Russian emperor, Maximilian uncovered his head in token of respect. The great object of Maximilian's ambition was to arm all Europe against the Turks; and he was exceedingly anxious to secure the coöperation of a power so energetic as that of Russia had now proved herself to be. Even then with consummate foresight he wrote:
"The integrity of Poland is indispensable to the general interests of Europe. The grandeur of Russia is becoming dangerous."
Maximilian soon sent another embassador to Moscow, who very forcibly described the conquests made by the Turks in Europe, Asia and Africa, from the Thracian Bosporus to the sands of Egypt, and from the mountains of Caucasia to Venice. He spoke of the melancholy captivity of the Greek church, which was the mother of Russian Christianity; of the profanation of the holy sepulcher; of Nazareth, Bethlehem and Sinai, which had fallen under the domination of the Turk. He suggested, that the Turks, in possession of the Tauride—as the country upon the north shore of the Black Sea, bounded by the Dnieper and the Sea of Azof was then called—threatened the independence of Russia herself; that Vassili had every thing to fear from the ferocity, the perfidy and the success of Selim, who, stained with the blood of his father and his three brothers, dared to assume the title of master of the world. He entreated Vassili, as one of the most powerful of the Christian princes, to follow the banner of Jesus Christ, and to cease to make war upon Poland, thus exhausting the Christian powers.
Maximilian died before his embassador returned, and thus these negotiations were interrupted. But Russia was then all engrossed with the desire of obtaining provinces from Poland. Turkey was too formidable a foe to think of assailing, and the idea at that time of wresting any territory from Turkey was preposterous. All Europe combined could only hope to check any further advance of the Moslem cimeters. Influenced by these considerations, Vassili sent another embassador to Constantinople to propose a treaty with Selim, which might aid Russia in the strife with her hereditary rival. The sultan, glad of any opportunity to weaken the Christian powers, ordered his pachas to harass Poland in every possible way on the south, thus enabling Russia more easily to assail the distracted kingdom on the north. The King of Poland, Sigismond, was in consternation.
Poland was united with Rome in religion. The pope, Leo X., anxious to secure the coöperation of both Poland and Russia against the Turks, who were the great foe Christianity had most to dread, proposed that the King of Poland, a renowned warrior, should be entrusted with the supreme command of the Christian armies, and adroitly suggested to Vassili, that Constantinople was the legitimate heritage of a Russian monarch, who was the descendant of a Grecian princess; that it was sound policy for him to turn his attention to Turkey; for Poland, being a weaker power, and combined of two discordant elements, the original Poland and Lithuania, would of necessity be gradually absorbed by the growth of Russia.
Vassili hated the pope, because he had ordered Te Deums in Rome, in celebration of a victory which the Poles had obtained over the Russians, and had called the Russians heretics. But still the bait the pope presented was too alluring not to be caught at. In the labyrinthine mazes of politics, however, there were obstacles to the development of this policy which years only could remove.
Upon the death of Maximilian, Charles V. of Spain ascended the throne of the German empire, and established a power, the most formidable that had been known in Europe for seven hundred years, that is, since the age of Charlemagne. Vassili was in the midst of these plans of aggrandizement when death came with its unexpected summons. He was in the fifty-fourth year of his age, with mental and physical vigor unimpaired. A small pimple appeared on his left thigh, not larger than the head of a pin, but from its commencement attended with excruciating pain. It soon resolved itself into a malignant ulcer, which rapidly exhausted all the vital energies. The dying king was exceedingly anxious to prepare himself to stand before the judgment seat of God. He spent days and nights in prayer, gave most affectionate exhortations to all around him to live for heaven, assumed monastic robes, resolving that, should he recover, he would devote himself exclusively to the service of God. It was midnight the 3d of December, 1533. The king had just partaken of the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. Suddenly his tongue was paralyzed, his eyes fixed, his hands dropped by his side, and the metropolitan bishop, who had been administering the last rites of religion, exclaimed, "It is all over. The king is dead."
———
[6] See Empire of Austria, p. 71.
IVAN IV.—HIS MINORITY.
From 1533 to 1546.
Vassili At the Chase.—Attention To Distinguished Foreigners.—The
Autocracy.—Splendor of the Edifices.—Slavery.—Aristocracy.—Infancy
of Ivan IV.—Regency of Hélène.—Conspiracies and Tumults.—War with
Sigismond of Poland.—Death of Hélène.—Struggles of the
Nobles.—Appalling Sufferings of Dmitri.—Incursion of the
Tartars.—Successful Conspiracy.—Ivan IV. At the Chase.—Coronation
of Ivan IV.
Under Vassili, the Russian court attained a degree of splendor which had before been unknown. The Baron of Herberstein thus describes the appearance of the monarch when engaging in the pleasures of the chase:
"As soon as we saw the monarch entering the field, we dismounted and advanced to meet him on foot. He was mounted upon a magnificent charger, gorgeously caparisoned. He wore upon his head a tall cap, embroidered with precious stones, and surmounted by gilded plumes which waved in the wind. A poignard and two knives were attached to his girdle. He had upon his right, Aley, tzar of Kazan, armed with a bow and arrows; at his left, two young princes, one of whom held an ax, and the other a number of arms. His suite consisted of more than three hundred cavaliers."
The chase was continued, over the boundless plains, for many days and often weeks. When night approached, the whole party, often consisting of thousands, dismounted and reared their village of tents. The tent of the emperor was ample, gorgeous, and furnished with all the appliances of luxury. Hounds were first introduced into these sports in Russia by Vassili. The evening hours were passed in festivity, with abundance of good cheer, and in narrating the adventures of the day.
Whenever the emperor appeared in public, he was preceded by esquires chosen from among the young nobles distinguished for their beauty, the delicacy of their features and the perfect proportion of their forms. Clothed in robes of white satin and armed with small hatchets of silver, they marched before the emperor, and appeared to strangers, say his cotemporaries, "like angels descended from the skies."
Vassili was especially fond of magnificence in the audiences which he gave to foreign embassadors. To impress them with an idea of the vast population and wealth of Russia, and of the glory and power of the sovereign, Vassili ordered, on the day of presentation, that all the ordinary avocations of life should cease, and the citizens, clothed in their richest dresses, were to crowd around the walls of the Kremlin. All the young nobles in the vicinity, with their retinues, were summoned. The troops were under arms, and the most distinguished officers, glittering in the panoply of war, rode to meet the envoys.[7] In the hall of audience, crowded to its utmost capacity, there was silence, as of the grave. The king sat upon his throne, his bonnet upon one side of him, his scepter upon the other. His nobles were seated around upon couches draped in purple and embroidered with pearls and gold.
Following the example of Ivan III., Vassili was unwearied in his endeavors to induce foreigners of distinction, particularly artists, physicians and men of science, to take up their residence in Russia. Any stranger, distinguished for genius or capability of any kind, who entered Russia, found it not easy to leave the kingdom. A Greek physician, of much celebrity, from Constantinople, visited Moscow. Vassili could not find it in his heart to relinquish so rich a prize, and detained him with golden bonds, which the unhappy man, mourning for his wife and children, in vain endeavored to break away. At last the sultan was influenced to write in behalf of the Greek.
"Permit," he wrote, "Marc to return to Constantinople to rejoin his family. He went to Russia only for a temporary visit."
The emperor replied:
"For a long time Marc has served me to his and my perfect satisfaction. He is now my lieutenant at Novgorod. Send to him his wife and children."
The power of the sovereign was absolute. His will was the supreme law. The lives, the fortunes of the clergy, the laity, the lords, the citizens were dependent upon his pleasure. The Russians regarded their monarch as the executor of the divine will. Their ordinary language was, God and the prince decree it. The Russians generally defend this autocracy as the only true principle of government. The philosophic Karamsin writes:
"Ivan III. and Vassili knew how to establish permanently the nature of one government by constituting in autocracy the necessary attribute of empire, its sole constitution, and the only basis of safety, force and prosperity. This limitless power of the prince is regarded as tyranny in the eye of strangers, because, in their inconsiderate judgment, they forget that tyranny is the abuse of autocracy, and that the same tyranny may exist in a republic when citizens or powerful magistrates oppress society. Autocracy does not signify the absence of laws, since law is everywhere where there is any duty to be performed, and the first duty of princes, is it not to watch over the happiness of their people?"
To the traveler, in the age of Vassili, Russia appeared like a vast desert compared with the other countries of Europe. The sparseness of the habitations, the extended plains, dense forests and roads, rough and desolate, attested that Russia was still in the cradle of its civilization. But as one approached Moscow, the signs of animated life rapidly increased. Convoys crowded the grand route, which traversed vast prairies waving with grain and embellished with all the works of industry. In the midst of this plain rose the majestic domes and glittering towers of Moscow. The convents, in massive piles, scattered around, resembled beautiful villages. The palace of the Kremlin alone, was a city in itself. Around this, as the nucleus, but spreading over a wide extent, were the streets of the metropolis, the palaces of the nobles, the mansions of the wealthy citizens and the shops of the artisans. The city in that day was, indeed, one of "magnificent distances," almost every dwelling being surrounded by a garden in luxurious cultivation. In the year 1520, the houses, by count, which was ordered by the grand prince, amounted to forty-one thousand five hundred.
The metropolitan bishop, the grand dignitaries of the court, the princes and lords occupied splendid mansions of wood reared by Grecian and Italian architects in the environs of the Kremlin. On wide and beautiful streets there were a large number of very magnificent churches also built of wood. The bazaars or shops, filled with the rich merchandise of Europe and of Asia, were collected in one quarter of the city, and were surrounded by a high stone wall as a protection against the armies, domestic or foreign, which were ever sweeping over the land.
From the eleventh to the sixteenth century, slavery may be said to have been universal in Russia. Absolutely every man but the monarch was a slave. The highest nobles and princes avowed themselves the slaves of the monarch. There was no law but the will of the sovereign. He could deprive any one of property and of life, and there was no power to call him to account but the poignard of the assassin or the sword of rebellion. In like manner the peasant serfs were slaves of the nobles, with no privileges whatever, except such as the humanity or the selfishness of their lords might grant But gradually custom, controlling public opinion, assumed almost the form of law. The kings established certain rules for the promotion of industry and the regulation of commerce. Merchants and scholars attained a degree of practical independence which was based on indulgence rather than any constitutional right, and, during the reign of Vassili, the law alone could doom the serf to death, and he began to be regarded as a man, as a citizen protected by the laws.[8] From this time we begin to see the progress of humanity and of higher conceptions of social life. It is, perhaps, worthy of record that anciently the peasants or serfs were universally designated by the name smerdi, which simply means smelling offensively. Is the exhalation of an offensive odor the necessary property of a people imbruted by poverty and filth? In America that unpleasant effluvium has generally been considered a peculiarity pertaining to the colored race. Philosophic observation may show that it is a disease, the result of uncleanliness, but, like other diseases, often transmitted from the guilty parent to the unoffending child. We have known white people who were exceedingly offensive in this respect, and colored people who were not so at all.
The pride of illustrious birth was carried to the greatest extreme, and a noble would blush to enter into any friendly relations whatever with a plebeian. The nobles considered all business degrading excepting war, and spent the weary months, when not under arms, in indolence in their castles. The young women of the higher families were in a deplorable state of captivity. Etiquette did not allow them to mingle with society, or even to be seen except by their parents, and they had no employment except sewing or knitting, no mental culture and no sources of amusement. It was not the custom for the young men to choose their wives, but the father of the maiden selected some eligible match for his daughter, and made propositions to the family of his contemplated son-in-law, stating the dowry he would confer upon the bride, and the parties were frequently married without ever having previously seen each other.
The death of Vassili transmitted the crown to his only son, Ivan, an infant but three years of age. By the will of the dying monarch, the regency, during the minority of the child, was placed in the hands of the youthful mother, the princess Hélène. The brothers of Vassili and twenty nobles of distinction were appointed as counselors for the queen regent. Two men, however, in concert with Hélène, soon took the reins of government into their own hands. One of these was a sturdy, ambitious old noble, Michel Glinsky, an uncle of Hélène; the other was a young and handsome prince, Ivan Telennef, who was suspected of tender liaisons with his royal mistress.
The first act of the new government was to assemble all the higher clergy in the church of the Assumption, where the metropolitan bishop gave his benediction to the child destined to reign over Russia, and who was there declared to be accountable to God only for his actions. At the same time embassadors were sent to all the courts of Europe to announce the death of Vassili and the accession of Ivan IV. to the throne.
But a week passed after these ceremonies ere the prince Youri, one of the brothers of Vassili, was arrested, charged with conspiracy to wrest the crown from his young nephew. He was thrown into prison, where he was left to perish by the slow torture of starvation. This severity excited great terror in Moscow. The Russians, ever strongly attached to their sovereigns, now found themselves under the reign of an oligarchy which they detested. Conspiracies and rumors of conspiracies agitated the court. Many were arrested upon suspicion alone, and, cruelly chained, were thrown into dungeons. Michel Glinsky, indignant at the shameful intimacy evidently existing between Hélène and Telennef, ventured to remonstrate with the regent boldly and earnestly, assuring her that the eyes of the court were scrutinizing her conduct, and that such vice, disgraceful anywhere, was peculiarly hideous upon a throne, where all looked for examples of virtue. The audacious noble, though president of the council, was immediately arrested under an accusation of treason, and was thrown into a dungeon, where, soon after, he was assassinated. A reign of terror now commenced, and imprisonment and death awaited all those who undertook in any way to thwart the plans of Hélène and Telennef.
André, the youngest of the brothers of Vassili, a man of feeble character, now alone remained of the royal princes at court. He was nominally the tutor of his nephew, the young emperor, Ivan IV., and though a prominent member of the council which Vassili had established, he had no influence in the government which had been grasped so energetically and despotically by Hélène and her paramour Telennef. At length André, trembling for his own life, timidly raised the banners of revolt, and gathered quite an army around him. But he had no energy to conduct a war. He was speedily taken, and, loaded with chains, was thrown into a dungeon, where, after a few weeks of most cruel deprivations, he miserably perished. Thirty of the lords, implicated with him in the rebellion, were hung upon the trees around Novgorod. Many others were put to torture and perished on the rack. Hélène, surrendering herself to the dominion of guilty love, developed the ferocity of a tigress.
Sigismond, King of Poland, taking advantage of the general discontent of the Russians under the sway of Hélène, formed an alliance with the horde upon the lower waters of the Don, and invaded Russia, burning and destroying with mercilessness which demons could not have surpassed. Prince Telennef headed an army to repel them. The pen wearies in describing the horrors of these scenes. One hundred thousand Russians are now flying before one hundred and fifty thousand Polanders. Hundreds of miles of territory are ravaged. Cities and villages are stormed, plundered, burned; women and children are cut down and trampled beneath the feet of cavalry, or escape shrieking into the forests, where they perish of exposure and starvation. But an army of recruits comes to the aid of the Russians. And now one hundred and fifty thousand Polanders are driven before two hundred thousand Russians. They sweep across the frontier like dust driven by the tornado. And now the cities and villages of Poland blaze; her streams run red with blood. The Polish wives and daughters in their turn struggle, shriek and die. From exhaustion the warfare ceases. The two antagonists, moaning and bleeding, wait for a few years but to recover sufficient strength to renew the strife, and then the brutal, demoniac butchery commences anew. Such is the history of man.
In this brief, but bloody war, the city of Staradoub, in Russia, was besieged by an army of Poles and Tartars. The assault was urged with the most desperate energy and fearlessness. The defense was conducted with equal ferocity. Thousands fell on both sides in every mangled form of death. At last the besiegers undermined the walls, and placing beneath hundreds of barrels of gunpowder, as with the burst of a volcano, uphove the massive bastions to the clouds. They fell in a storm of ruin upon the city, setting it on fire in many places. Through the flames and over the smouldering ruins, Poles and Tartars, blackened with smoke and smeared with blood, rushed into the city, and in a few hours thirteen thousand of the inhabitants were weltering in their gore. None were left alive. And this is but a specimen of the wars which raged for ages. The world now has but the faintest conception of the seas of blood and woe through which humanity has waded to attain even its present feeble recognition of fraternity.
In this, as in every war with Poland, Russia was gaining, ever wresting from her rival the provinces of Lithuania, and attaching them to the gigantic empire. In the year 1534, Hélène commenced the enterprise of surrounding the whole of Moscow with a ditch, and a wall capable of resisting the batterings of artillery. An Italian engineer, named Petrok Maloi, superintended these works. The foundation of the walls was laid with imposing religious ceremonies. The wall was crowned with four towers at the opening of the four gates. Hélène was so conscious of the importance of augmenting the population of Russia, that she offered land and freedom from taxes for a term of years to all who would migrate into her territory from Poland. Perhaps also she had a double object, wishing to weaken a rival power. Much counterfeit coin was found to be in circulation. The regent issued an edict, that any one found guilty of depreciating the current standard of coin, should be punished with death, and this death was to be barbarously inflicted by first cutting off the hands of the culprit, and then pouring melted lead through a tunnel down his throat.
On the 3d of April, 1538, Hélène, in the prime of life, and with all her sins in full vigor and unrepented, retired to her bed at night, suddenly and seriously sick. Some one had succeeded in administering to her a dose of poison. She shrieked for a few hours in mortal agony, and soon after the hour of twelve was tolled, her spirit ascended to meet God in judgment. Being dead, she had no favors to confer and no terrors to execute; and her festering remains were the same day hurried ignominiously to the grave. Her paramour, Telennef, alone wept over her death. Russia rejoiced, and yet with trembling. Whose strong arm would now seize the helm of the tempest-torn ship of State, no one could tell.
The young prince, Ivan IV., was but seven years of age at the death of his mother Hélène. For several days there was ominous silence in Moscow, the stillness which precedes the storm. The death of the regent had come so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that none were prepared for it. A week passed away, during which time parties were forming and conspiracies ripening, while Telennef was desperately endeavoring to retain that power which he had so despotically wielded in conjunction with his royal mistress. The prince Vassili Schouisky, who had occupied the first place in the councils of Vassili, opened the drama. Having secured the coöperation of a large number of nobles, he declared himself the head of the government, arrested all the favorites of Hélène, and threw Telennef, bound with chains, into a dungeon. There he was left to die of starvation—barbarity, which, though in accordance with that brutal age, even all the similar excesses of Telennef could not justify. The beautiful sister of Telennef, Agrippene by name, was torn from the saloons her loveliness had embellished, and was imprisoned for life in a convent. The victims of the cruelty of Hélène, who were still languishing in prison, were set at liberty.
Schouisky was a widower, and in the fiftieth year of his age. He wished to strengthen his power by engaging the coöperation of the still formidable energies of the horde at Kezan, and accordingly married, quite hurriedly, the daughter of the czar of the horde. But the regal diadem proved to him but a crown of thorns. Conspiracy succeeded conspiracy, and Schouisky felt compelled to enlist all the terrors of the dungeon, the scaffold and the block to maintain his place. Six months only passed away, ere he too was writhing upon the royal couch in the agonies of death, whether paralyzed by poison or smitten by the hand of God, the day of judgment alone can reveal.
Ivan Schouisky, the brother of the deceased usurper, now stepped into the dangerous post which death had so suddenly rendered vacant. He was a weak man, assuming the most pompous airs, quite unable to discriminate between imposing grandeur and ridiculous parade. He soon became both despised and detested. This state of things encouraged the two hordes of Kezan and Tauride to unite, and with an army of a hundred thousand men they penetrated Russia almost unopposed, burning and plundering in all directions.
Under these circumstances the metropolitan bishop, Joseph, a man of sincere piety and of very elevated character, and who enjoyed in the highest degree the confidence both of the aristocracy and of the people, presented himself before the council, urged the incapacity of Ivan Schouisky to govern, and proposed that Ivan Belsky, a nobleman of great energy and moral worth, should be chosen regent. The proposal was carried by acclamation. So unanimous was the vote, so cordial was the adoption of the republican principle of election, that Ivan Schouisky was powerless and was merely dismissed.
The new regent, sustained by the clergy and the aristocracy, governed the State with wisdom and moderation. All kinds of persecution ceased, and vigorous measures were adopted for the promotion of the public welfare. Old abuses were repressed; vicious governors deposed, and the rising flames of civil strife were quenched. Even the hitherto unheard-of novelty of trial by jury was introduced. Jurors were chosen from among the most intelligent citizens. Though there was some bitter opposition among the corrupt nobles to these salutary reforms, the clergy, as a body, sustained them, and so did also even a majority of the lords. It was Christianity and the church which introduced these humanizing measures.
Among the innumerable tragedies of those days, let one be mentioned illustrative of the terrific wrongs to which all are exposed under a despotic government. There was a young prince, Dmitri, a child, grandson of Vassili the blind, whose claims to the throne were feared. He was thrown into prison and there forgotten . For forty-nine years he had now remained in a damp and dismal dungeon. He had committed no crime. He was accused of no crime. It was only feared that restive nobles might use him as an instrument for the furtherance of their plans. All the years of youth and of manhood had passed in darkness and misery. No beam of the sun ever penetrated his tomb. All unheeded the tides of life surged in the world above him, while his mind with his body was wasting away in the long agony.