BORIS GODUNOV was the most powerful and sagacious of the boyards spared by Ivan the “Terrible”; he was best fitted to direct the policy of the government, and later the people looked to him as the only ruler possible. A man who could satisfy Ivan, yet take no part in his orgies, who could keep the goodwill of the foreign residents, yet be beloved of the Muscovites, must have possessed abilities of no mean order. Boris was a great man to whom historians have done scant justice. He is described as inordinately ambitious and accused of unscrupulousness in his methods, but the court in which he was schooled may be adduced in extenuation of his crimes, whilst ambition, an undesirable quality for a subject to possess, is a laudable virtue in monarchs. It was his misfortune not to have been born in the purple—his contemporaries and the historians have counted this a fault, but it is too late to blame him for acting as a king when he was by birth a simple noble.

Boris Godunov, as brother of the Tsar’s wife, had a recognised position apart from the favour the Tsar’s father had shown him. The relatives of the Tsarina were always counted less dangerous to the dynasty than were the Tsar’s blood relations, and their influence at Court was greater than their precedence warranted. Theodore was the opposite of his father, unintelligent, feeble-willed, incompetent, he thrust greatness upon Boris Godunov, who saved Moscow. At that time the Tsar held territory in Europe larger than that ruled by any of his contemporaries; the conquests of Yermak in Asia brought as much more under his dominion. Enemies, active, watchful, virulent, were ever ready to harass its rulers. Poles and Swedes expected Moscow sooner or later, to fall to them, and lost no opportunity to effect the overthrow of the Russians. Tartars and others kept up predatory wars and, within the empire, towns and districts, devastated by the wanton cruelties of Ivan, were anxious to get back their independence. There were no men able to rule. Ivan had put to death those brave enough and independent enough to assert authority; what was worse for Russia, he had driven into exile competent and influential nobles, who, maddened by his persecutions, became enemies of their fatherland and plotted with foreign sovereigns against the state.

To govern was difficult; to preserve the empire intact, still more so; further aggrandisement almost impossible with the conditions then prevailing. Theodore left everything to the council,—duma, consisting of boyards whom Godunov held in the hollow of his hand. From his brother-in-law he obtained special titles and special powers; he became viceroy of immense territories, and could put 100,000 armed men into the field at need. He was practically regent and lacked nothing that was royal but the title. When the Shooiskis, the Belskis, the Mstislavskis and others did not please him he forced them from power. Mstislavski had to become a monk; Shooiski, who tried to get together a party among the merchants, was banished to a distant town; Dionysius, the metropolitan, was deposed, and a nominee of Godunov’s succeeded to the primacy of the church. When, in 1586, Batory, King of Lithuania died, Boris Godunov put forward Theodore as candidate for the crown of Poland. But the Poles would have no ruler who belonged to the eastern church. Moreover, they feared the Muscovites would join Poland to Muscovy like a sleeve to a coat; but the claim proved that Russia was still a power with which the west would have to reckon. Boris, who had always been friendly with the English, obtained for Theodore the support of England against Danes and Swedes; he quite won over Queen Elizabeth to the side of the young Tsar and, in many ways, as Grand High Chancellor advanced the interests of his sovereign and his country.

In Moscow he acted intelligently. The middle town, the Bielo-Gorod or free town, between the Kitai Gorod and the present boulevards was enclosed with a wall of stone, having twenty-eight towers and nine gates. The last gate, that on the Arbat, was razed in 1792, the wall having been earlier demolished and its site utilised for the present existing boulevards. Its style was that of the wall around the Donskoi Monastery built in 1591 to commemorate the victory of the Muscovites under Mstislavski against 150,000 Krim-Tartars advancing on the city under the leadership of the Khan Kazi Ghiree. Another building of Godunov’s is the smaller “Golden Palace” in the Terem of the Kremlin, which was erected for the accommodation of the Tsaritsa Irene. Many bells were cast, and some cannon including the monstrous Tsar Pushka—still within the Kremlin—which bears a

A CORRIDOR—THE OLD PALACES
A CORRIDOR—THE OLD PALACES

portrait of Theodore on horseback on its reinforcement. Theodore lived in regal state: his household numbered over 1000, and he entertained foreign ambassadors with even greater pomp and magnificence than his predecessors. Not only were these guests provided with a fitting residence and a large suit, but it was not uncommon for as many as a hundred and fifty dinners to be sent daily from the Tsar’s kitchen for their entertainment.

Ivan’s youngest son, Dmitri, with his mother Maria, and her relatives, the Nagois, were domiciled in Uglitch by the order of Boris; whilst there in 1581, about the period of the Tartar invasion, young Dmitri was murdered—at Boris Godunov’s instigation it is said. Jerom Horsey, who was in Uglitch at the time, states that he was aroused late at night, the news given him, and his aid requested on behalf of Dmitri’s mother believed to be poisoned. Horsey gave the messenger the small vial of sallet oil the Queen (Elizabeth) had given him as a specific against all poisons and ills. An inquiry was ordered when Boris Godunov was suspected of having instigated the crime, and as a result of the investigation made by Shooiski it was declared that the boy cut his own throat and that the Nagois and citizens of Uglitch had put to death innocent men as murderers, whereupon, the incredible finding being believed, an effort was made to exterminate the Nagois, and Uglitch was almost depopulated.

There can be no doubt that Dmitri was murdered when six years old, but it is not so clear at whose instigation the deed was done. Giles Fletcher states that the child “resembled his father in delight of blood,” and it may be that evidence of his cruel propensities induced some sufferer from Ivan’s tyranny to wreak vengeance on the son in hope of saving a generation to come from such suffering as the past had endured. It may be that Boris Godunov plotted for his removal, but it is known that Boris was anxious for Theodore to have a son to succeed to the throne, and, probably, had then little intention of securing it for himself. One of the complaints made by the Russia Company against Jerom Horsey was in connection with a wrongly interpreted order he executed on behalf of Boris Godunov who wished a “wise woman” sent out from England to doctor the Tsaritsa, and the company instead sent out a midwife.

To conciliate the small landowners a decree was issued in 1597 forbidding peasants to leave the land and thus serfdom was established. Some efforts had been made in former centuries to restrict the migrations of a people, nomadic by habit, still accustomed to change masters frequently by moving from one estate to another at seed time and harvest. The tendency of the powerful was to increase the size of their holdings and to augment their retainers by enticing labourers from smaller estates. To check this the husbandman was attached to the soil as the serf of the estate.

As statesmanlike, and less objectionable, was the appointment of a patriarch to win over the clergy. Jeremiah, patriarch of Constantinople, was banished by the Turks and sought refuge in Rome. The Pope sent him to Moscow, hoping that the chief of their own church would influence the Russians to forward the amalgamation of the Greek and Roman churches. If not successful in this, it was hoped that the recountal of the patriarch’s sufferings and indignities at the hands of infidels, might induce the Romans to make a league with Spain against the Turks. According to Giles Fletcher the Pope’s emissaries did nothing more than inveigh against England; but with the destruction of the Spanish Armada all conceit of a Russo-Spanish league vanished. Godunov profited by Jeremiah’s stay in Moscow. He induced him to consecrate the Metropolitan Job, patriarch of Moscow, and to this patriarchate that of Constantinople was subsequently added. Thus Moscow became indisputably the head of the Orthodox Church, by direct apostolic succession.

The Tsar fell ill in 1597 and died in the Kremlin the following year, and his widow then at once retired to the Novo Devichi convent mourning her bereavement and blaming herself that through her the sovereign race had perished, for her only child, Theodosia, died in 1592, when but ten months old.

The enmity the reigning princes had shown their own kindred, produced the unexpected result that there were now no legal heirs to the throne; the line of which Andrew Bogoloobski Dolgoruki was the founder, was extinct. The Tsar Theodore when on his death-bed said that God would provide the next Tsar, and refused to nominate a successor. The States’ Council convened for the purpose of appointing a ruler, unanimously chose Boris Godunov. It was impossible that the throne could escape him. He hung back, wishful to have an expression of the desire of the people of Moscow, as well as of the delegates. The people required him. They went to the Novo Devichi convent, whither he had gone, begged him to accept the position to which he had been appointed; his sister “blessed him for the throne,” and with great show of reluctance, he at last consented. In due course he was crowned; reigned wisely and well, but was not liked. A chronicler has it that “he presented to the poor in a vase of gold the blood of the innocents, he fed them with unholy alms.”

Those of his subjects who remembered the tyranny of Ivan should have blessed their elected ruler. They could not forget his Tartar origin: he was not of royal descent, was no Tsar. Nor could he win popularity. His first act was to conclude an honourable peace with Kazi Ghiree and the invading Tartars; his policy was to avoid war, that “there might be neither widows nor orphans of his making.”

Horsey wrote of him:—

In 1601 Moscow was in a state of famine, the like of which it had never known. In a short time 3 roubles would not buy as much food as 15 copecks had done formerly. Driven wild by hunger the Muscovites committed fearful atrocities. Men were entrapped, killed and eaten. It is said that some mothers killed and ate their own children; pies of human flesh were sold openly; many thousand corpses remained unburied in the streets; chroniclers state that half a million perished of famine and disease. To alleviate some of the misery, Boris caused the granaries and stores to be burst open, and the food avarice withheld sold at normal prices.

Boris built two new palaces of stone within the Kremlin; had made a map of the Russian dominions, and a plan of Moscow. To find employment for the poor he caused the belfry tower of Ivan Veliki to be constructed, and did his utmost to win the love of the citizens. He had to combat treason and intrigue; his reprisals were severe, but the victims suffered in secret.

CHURCH OF THE ASSUMPTION
CHURCH OF THE ASSUMPTION

The Belskis and Romanofs were ill-treated; the head of the latter house was forced to become a monk, and took the name of Philaret; his wife to become a nun, under the name of Marfa. One of the most remarkable specimens of Muscovite architecture has survived from Boris Godunov’s day, the church of the Assumption he built on the Pokrovka. Like other churches of mediÆval Moscow, its chief entrance is by steps to a second storey, but unlike them it is carried much higher and appears more like a collection of buildings piled upon each other. Thirteen cupolas, at different heights, are arranged around the central dome. A covered gallery surrounds the church on the main storey, and the logia beneath was, until recently, divided and let as shops.

In 1604, the first false Dmitri appeared, invading Russia from the west, at the head of Poles and Zaporogians. Boris was energetic and able, but the towns revolted on the approach of Dmitri, and the soldiers of Godunov’s voievodes “found it hard to bear arms against their lawful sovereign.” Even Mstislavski, who tried to stop the advance, had no soldiers to help him; his men “had not hands to fight, only feet with which to run away.” Shooiski was better able to rally his men, and he defeated Dmitri at Dobryvichi. Boris then thought that the struggle was finished, but the movement had only just commenced. The Ukraine rose; some 40,000 Cossacks of the Don joined the impostor, and the inaction of the voievodes to stop the advance towards Moscow, proved that the spirit of treason was wide spread.

Boris Godunov did not live to see the issue. After a repast he was suddenly taken ill; there was suspicion of poisoning and, expecting to die, he nominated his son Theodore his successor. After confiding the youth to the care of his friend Basmanov, to the Patriarch and to the people of Moscow, he breathed his last on the 15th April 1605, being then but fifty-five years of age.

Theodore ascended the throne as soon as his father’s remains were interred in the Archangelski Cathedral, but it soon became evident to his supporters that neither officers nor men would fight on behalf of the Godunovs. Rather than become a victim of treason, Basmanov chose to be its author, and announced that he was convinced that Dmitri was in truth the son of Ivan the Terrible.

The impostor was audacious and successful. His career has the fascination of romance. He was one Otrepief, a monk of the Chudov monastery within the Kremlin. Job, the Patriarch, made him his secretary, a position which enabled him to learn several state and court secrets. He said one day to his fellow scribes, that some day he would reign over them as Tsar of Muscovy. For answer they spat in his face, and reported his words. Boris sent him a prisoner to the monastery on the White Lake. He escaped, wandered about for some time, and at Novgorod Severski was well received by the inhabitants, to whom he revealed himself as the supposed murdered Dmitri, and promised all who helped him suitable rewards if he should obtain his own rights. Then he threw off his cowl and joined a band of Zaporogians; learned of them how to ride and fight. As a soldier he sought service with Adam Vichnevetski, a Polish pan of good standing. He soon feigned illness; a priest was summoned, and to him he confessed that he was the son of the Tsar. This disclosure was of too great political value to remain the secret of the priest, and in due course Otrepief was recognised as Dmitri by Vichnevetski. Then the papal Nuncio took him under his protection, and he was presented to King Sigismund.

It is unlikely that these dignitaries were deceived. Sigismund feigned to believe Otrepief’s story, but refused to recognise him officially, though he allowed his subjects, at their own risk, to take service under Otrepief’s banner and foment a revolution.

From various motives the Russian leaders flocked to him as he marched towards Moscow. In the town the people crowded in the Grand Square to hear the news of his triumphant progress; his manifesto was read from the Lobnoe Mesto, and none dare stay the treason, not even the Patriarch would venture! The boyards Mstislavski, Vasili Shooiski, Belski and others, went out to argue with the citizens, but they were met with cries of “The day of Godunov is over! To-day the sun rises upon Russia; Dmitri! Long live the Tsar Dmitri! Down with the Godunovs! Cursed be the memory of Boris! Long live Dmitri!” So shouting, this crowd made its way into the Kremlin.

The rioters were masters; the guard fled, and the townsmen who had forced their way into the palace actually pulled the young Tsar from the throne. His mother begged them to spare his life, and her cry was heeded. The Godunovs were removed from the palace to their own dwelling and a guard placed over them. The relations and friends of the Godunovs were then imprisoned, their dwellings pillaged and destroyed. Belski, from his known antipathy to the Godunovs, became the counsellor of the mob. Some time later the partisans of Dmitri made a fresh attack on the Kremlin. The object of their fury on this occasion was the Patriarch. He was celebrating mass in the Cathedral of the Assumption when an armed band forced their way into the sanctuary, seized him at the altar, dragged him forth and tore away his vestments. Clad in black he was brought in ignominy from the church, shown to the people, and sent away on a common cart to the monastery of Staritsa, five hundred versts from Moscow.

On the 10th of June 1605, the Princes Galitzin and Mossolski, with a couple of secretaries and three of the guard of Streltsi, went to the palace of the Godunovs; took Theodore and his sister from the arms of the Tsarina and ordered the guard to put them to death in an adjoining room, and then strangled the Tsarina herself. Theodore made a struggle for life, fighting savagely, but he was struck down. Xenia was spared; Dmitri who had heard of her beauty ordered Mossolski to find an asylum for her in his mansion. The corpses of Marie and Theodore after being exposed to the public, were interred in the convent of St Varsonophee on the Srietenka, and the disinterred body of Boris Godunov brought to the same resting-place.

At this time Dmitri was at Tula, but all being now in readiness for his enthronement, he came to Moscow and made a state entry unparalleled for its magnificence and pageantry. A violent gust of wind which somewhat disturbed the procession as it crossed the Moskva was taken as an omen of ill, and later in the day, by an unlucky coincidence, at the moment when the clergy were prostrate before the Holy ikons, the foreign musicians sounded a fanfare. When Dmitri prostrated himself before the tomb of Ivan and cried, “Oh my father, thou left me an orphan and in exile, but by thy prayers I have regained my possessions!” the simple people were convinced of his identity. He was crowned; his supposed mother, Maria Nagoi, recognised him, and his rule commenced.

Little fault can be found with the way in which Dmitri governed. He pardoned those who had suffered from the Godunovs, and was generous to those who had shown themselves inimical to him; he rewarded his partisans handsomely and was lavish in his expenditure. He purchased and ordered rich furnishings for himself and the court, exhibiting a prodigality that frightened the more staid of the Moscow citizens. In three months he is said to have spent more than seven million roubles, and the display of riches was the wonder of foreign visitors to his court. He rode Arabs, dressed his servants like nobles, and built and furnished a palace that surpassed anything seen in Moscow. It was of wood; the stoves of porcelain had doors of silver; the bolts and bars of the palace were all gold, or at least gilded; before the entrance was an enormous statue of Cerberus, of which the three jaws opened wide at the least blow. The chroniclers state that “this was a symbol of the dwelling that was to be Dmitri’s throughout eternity.”

There were malcontents, and chief among them was Vasili Shooiski, who, on the denunciation of Basmanov, was tortured and condemned to death. At the last moment he was pardoned, but was implacable, and worked assiduously for the overthrow of Dmitri and the ruin of Basmanov.

Pope Paul V. sent Rogoni to Moscow on the usual errand, but Dmitri was in nowise inclined to make any submission to Rome. At the same time he was tolerant, and this tolerance gave great offence to the orthodox. He allowed Lutherans to preach; permitted the Jesuits to have a place of worship within the Kremlin; even listened to an address in Latin delivered by a Jesuit in an orthodox church. Equally irritating was the freedom foreigners now had to enter an orthodox church, the doors of which had been hitherto closed against all but the faithful. Dmitri upbraided the clergy for their intolerance. “With us,” said he, “there is only the outward observance, we ignore the spirit of our religion. You fast, you prostrate yourselves before relics, you worship the Holy ikons, but you do not understand the spirit of religion. You consider yourselves the most upright people on the earth, and meanwhile you do not even live as do Christians. You lack charity: you are little inclined to good works. Why do you scorn those who dissent from you? What is the Roman faith? It is a Christian faith, even as yours is.” Such opinions as these alienated everyone, but especially the clergy. To them he was gracious, allowing the Patriarch, four metropolitans, seven archbishops and three bishops to have seats on the general council—a privilege they had previously received upon very special occasions only. An order he made for an inventory of clerical property inflamed the priests of all degrees against him.

Crull writes of him:—

Dmitri was too fond of the customs of the west to satisfy the Muscovites. Many charges were made against him which seem absurd now. Among them may be instanced “that he favoured foreigners, especially musicians;” ordinarily he sacrificed pomp, and went hither and thither about Moscow like a simple citizen. He took the cannon out of the town to test various pieces “and might then have turned them on the town”; he liked to watch mimic battles, and laughed when the Muscovites were routed by the foreign soldiers. He ate meat during Lent and veal at any time. He showed little or no regard for Russian customs, and broke down those barriers that prevented the common people from having access to their Tsar. Much could have been pardoned, but two things were decisive: he would not sleep after dinner, and he mounted his horse at a bound.

When Dmitri arranged to wed Marina Mniszek, the daughter of a Polish pan, Vasili Shooiski plotted anew for his overthrow. He it was who had been commissioned to hold the inquiry into the crime committed at Uglitch; and the people remembered that he, if anyone, knew the truth respecting the murder of Ivan’s son and the identity of their present ruler. This in some measure accounts for Dmitri’s surprising leniency towards this enemy. In his new plot Shooiski counted upon the support of 18,000 men of Novgorod and Pskov, then in Moscow on their way to do battle against the Krim-Tartars. The Tsar could count on the support of the common people, and though warned of the danger that was threatening, he took no measures to ensure his own safety, or that of his guests and bride. The agents of Shooiski circulated two rumours; one, among the boyard and clergy, to the effect that with the help of the newly arrived Poles “Dmitri” intended to massacre the boyards and introduce the Roman faith; to the common people it was represented that the Poles were ill-treating the Tsar. On the night of the 17th of May the soldiers secured the entrances to the Kremlin; and on the morning of the 18th, Shooiski, with a cross in one hand and a drawn sword in the other, obtained an entrance through the Redeemer Gate, made straight for the Cathedral of the Assumption and, prostrating himself before the ikon of Mary of Vladimir, called upon those around him in the name of God to attack the cursed heretics. The alarm bell rang; Basmanov met some boyards who, with swords drawn, demanded that “Dmitri” should be given them. They killed him; then entered the palace in search of the Tsar, who tried to escape, and to defend himself. Driven along a corridor, he slipped, was stabbed, and thrown into the courtyard. The guard of Streltsi, called to his assistance, would have defended him, but when threatened by Vasili and the boyards, the Tsar prayed them to desist, and the companions of Shooiski thereupon despatched him. Marina was spared, and a guard left to protect her; but the conspirators, having killed Dmitri, Basmanov, and a hundred or more of the foreign musicians in the palace, they spread over the Kitai Gorod and murdered without discrimination all the Poles and foreigners they encountered. These scenes continued all day, and at last the populace took up the cry of “Down with the Poles!” and the massacre of foreigners became general.

The bodies of “Dmitri” and Basmanov, their faces covered with ribald masks, prepared for “mummeries” in celebration of the wedding, were dragged out on to the Grand Square and exposed to the public; later these corpses were burned, and the ashes fired from a cannon.

On the day following the massacre, Vasili Shooiski was proclaimed Tsar. The action was too precipitate. Galitzin, who was a candidate, was not satisfied; the provinces were annoyed that they had not been consulted. Shooiski did not feel secure. He sent into the distant parts of the empire as voievodes those boyards who had taken the side of “Dmitri.” Among them was Mossolski, who, on leaving Moscow, took a letter addressed to “Dmitri,” and had already formed the idea of advancing someone else to the throne. Vasili Shooiski was fifty years of age, he lacked energy, and his rule satisfied no one. Pretenders sprang up everywhere; at one time there were seventeen people claiming to be “Dmitri”; others took the name of Peter; all claimed to be sons of Ivan. Fighting men took their part. Cossacks, Zaporogians, and others, wanted war for the booty it brought. The nobles led a war in the south; in the east the Tartars thought the time opportune for action; Finns tried to recover their independence; Swedes and Poles looked on, waiting for the best moment at which to interfere. News travelled slowly, lack of communication made local risings possible. The people in distant parts heard almost at the same time that the Tsar was dead, that Dmitri had recovered his own, that the usurper had been dethroned—they knew not what to believe. In Moscow the citizens remembered that the bodies which had been exposed on the Grand Square had the faces masked: to most it seemed possible that “Dmitri” had escaped after all.

It was some time before the revolutionists joined forces. In the meantime Shooiski instigated an anti-foreign reaction. Dmitri exiled a bishop named Hermogen, an able, devout man, uncompromisingly orthodox, stubborn and bigoted, who now became Patriarch, and won the confidence of the people.

In due course the different sections of the army of revolutionaries closed in towards Moscow. Lissovski, a noted brigand, had a large following. There was John Zapieha, exiled from Poland, seeking fortune, and with him numerous “pans,” intent on the spoils of war; a host of Zaporogians, and the usual large army of Cossacks, under the hetman Rojinski, joined them. In the field the superior talents of Michael Skopin-Shooiski, a nephew of the Tsar, saved the situation. He refused overtures made by Liapunov, and this voievode consequently separated his following from that of the revolutionaries and joined Shooiski. Bolotnikov had then to fall back on Tula, and he wrote to Mniszek that unless “Dmitri” was produced, their cause would be lost. He was found, but too late to save Bolotnikov, who was drowned; another leader was hanged. The identity of the new impostor is as disputed as that of “Junius”; to historians he is simply the “second false Dmitri,” the “Brigand of Tushino,” or the “Little Tsar.” His party was strong, because each of its units expected spoils in case of victory; it received such support as it had from the people by reason of the ex-Tsaritsa Marina, the widow of “Dmitri,” and Mniszek, recognising the impostor as “Dmitri.”

The northern towns supported the impostor, and Sigismund and the Poles made common cause with him against Moscow. Shooiski, who had refused the proffered aid of Sweden, now sought help, and from Novgorod the young Delagardie was sent on behalf of Sweden. More could have been accomplished had not Vasili Shooiski been so jealous of the successes and popularity of his nephew. He was afraid to let him take the field, and the impostor established himself at Tushino, a village ten miles to the north of Moscow. Here he held his court, and enticed the Muscovites by promises. Nobles and citizens alike essayed to be on good terms with both Shooiski, the “half-Tsar,” and the impostor, the “little Tsar,” spending their time at both courts, and earning the name of Pereletsi (birds-of-passage) by their frequent changes of residence. The townsmen were so demoralised that they were ready for whomsoever should succeed, yet gave little assistance to either “Tsar,” and responded but feebly to future attempts at insurrection within the capital. The soldiers returned to their homes, and Shooiski became by turns devout and ribald. Now spending all his hours in church, anon seeking aid of sorcerers; one day punishing traitors with extreme rigour, the next proclaiming that all were free to do as they wished. The few who remained true to Shooiski sent sons or near relations to make court to the impostor.

The Church saved Russia in this extremity; it was unswervingly orthodox and opposed to Polish supremacy. The rich monastery of Troitsa attracted the cupidity of the revolutionaries, and some 30,000 men under Zapieha and Lissovski laid siege to the famous monastery in 1608. The monks held out bravely, keeping the besiegers at bay for sixteen months. In September 1609 Sigismund himself laid siege to Smolensk. The people refused to submit; the voievode Shein defended the town so well that Sigismund found it necessary to call all Poles to his banner. Zapieha very reluctantly left Troitsa and joined Sigismund, knowing that in case of victory the spoils would now fall to the King of Poland. The Russians with the “little Tsar” had no choice but to accompany the Poles, and the impostor, deserted, sought refuge in flight. Disguised, he went south, and later Marina and Mniszek joined him.

The condition of the nobles and commoners who had taken the part of the impostor was pitiable. In despair a deputation, headed by Soltikov, waited upon Sigismund and said that the Muscovites beat their foreheads in the dust before his majesty, and begged that his son Vladislas would take the throne of the Tsars, making only one condition, namely, that he should become of the orthodox faith. A compact was made between Sigismund and the delegates, by which, under certain conditions, Vladislas was to succeed to the throne of Muscovy.

In the meantime Michael Skopin-Shooiski died in the hour of his victories. His uncles were accused of having poisoned him. When, at last, Dmitri Shooiski went out against Sigismund, he was beaten by Jolkievski and betrayed by the leader of the foreign regiment. The Poles then marched on to Moscow, and thitherward also came the impostor with a fresh following, thinking the town would choose him in preference to Vladislas. Moscow was in uproar; the inhabitants knew not what to do. On one hand the proclamation of Jolkievski promised peace, abundance, and prosperity; on the other, the impostor with more specious promises held fast those who had already paid court to him. Some suggested that neither candidate should be accepted, but a new Tsar elected by the people. Matters drifted on until the 17th July 1609 when, after the result of a meeting at Serphukov became known, the boyards and citizens together most humbly requested Vasili Shooiski to abdicate, because “he caused Christian blood to be shed and was not successful in his government.” He retired to his private dwelling and subsequently became a monk in the Chudov Monastery.

When the boyards had to choose between the Pole and the impostor, some wished to restore Shooiski to power. For the time being the Council was content to enforce an oath of fealty to it, and to await the coming of Jolkievski, then at Mojaisk.

Sigismund had determined upon securing the throne for himself, and Jolkievski had a difficult part to play. The Russians elected an embassy to Sigismund; it consisted of those who were most likely to oppose the Polish supremacy: then, the better to guard against the impostor, the Poles were requested to garrison the Kremlin. The dissidents were thus got out of the town, and the key to the stronghold of the empire was given into the hands of the Poles. The Muscovites progressed so slowly with their negotiations that Jolkievski left Gonsievski in command and returned to Smolensk, taking Shooiski with him. The Patriarch alone remained inexorable. He protested against the Polish occupation and refused all attempts at compromise. More, he was unceasing in his attempts to awaken the Muscovites to their duty, to their religion, their country and themselves. His attitude was most irritating to the boyards favouring the Poles and to the officers of the garrison, for the indomitable prelate, deprived of the wherewithal to write, called out loudly to the people to revolt. The boyard Soltikov, enraged by his repeated refusals to sign the submission, struck at him with a dagger, but the cross of the prelate warded off the blow. “The cross is my only weapon that I have against thee, cursed one!” he called, and the garrison did their best to prevent the people from entering the cathedral to hear him. Cast in prison, he still found means to inflame the populace.

The “little Tsar,” after the alliance between the Poles and Muscovites was accomplished, withdrew to Kaluga. Soon afterwards he was murdered; he left Marina and a son, but neither now were of importance to Russia.

Sigismund wanted Smolensk reunited to Poland; the delegates wanted Vladislas in Moscow at once. Sigismund delayed. He tried what he could do with Smolensk; when the secretary Tomila was asked if he would surrender the town, he answered, “If I were to do it, not only would God and Muscovites curse me, but the earth would open and swallow me.” Others were not so honest. The King was besieged by applicants for favours and rewards in return for services rendered, or to be rendered. In the Kremlin, the boyards denounced each other to the commandant, Galitzin and Vorontski were arrested; others lost what little prestige remained to them.

Hermogen succeeded in getting two letters circulated; both were calls to the faithful to rise against the Poles. They excited indignation, and at last Liapunov started out from Riazan with an army and arrived before Moscow. The Poles besought Hermogen to order this force to disperse. He refused and defied the Poles to do their worst.

In 1611 matters quickly became worse. As long as Jolkievski was in the Kremlin, Russians and Poles were at peace with each other, but Gonsievski was not so successful. Some Poles were so foolish as to mock the orthodox worshippers, and although severely punished, the circumstance roused the Muscovites to action. There were several riots, but these were quelled, and the measures the Poles took to ensure their own safety irritated the citizens still more. Hatred increased day by day; the position of the Poles became critical. As Holy Week approached, Gonsievski fearing trouble forbade the usual ceremonies. This so offended the people that he was forced to give way. The critical period passed with one or two unimportant risings, when suddenly a quarrel broke out with the carters, who had been asked to haul cannons into position and had refused. Soon the fighting became general in the town. Prince Pojarski, with the advance guard of the Russian army, had just arrived on the Sretenka when the Poles and Germans fell ruthlessly upon the citizens. The massacre lasted an hour or more, some seven thousand being killed. The alarm bells were ringing, and the crowd at last was chased from the Kitai Gorod when the Poles who followed further were driven back by the cannon of Pojarski. The Poles and foreigners had then to entrench themselves and, to clear the neighbourhood, the Poles fired the town. The conflagration spread rapidly and lasted three days. The Russians abandoned the burning town; the Bielo Gorod was destroyed, and much of the Kitai Gorod also; the dwellings and warehouses of the foreign merchants were consumed, and the “English factory” lost several of its members. Some went into the cellars and were suffocated, the survivors made a dash for the Kremlin, and were helped over the wall by the Poles, where their position was precarious, for they were amidst a town in flames in a foreign country, among a people in revolt against the garrison. Some vestiges of this fire are still found occasionally when excavating—old vaults full of charred wood and burned bricks—whilst the wall of the Kitia Gorod itself is said to bear evidence in several places of the fire that for days raged round it, and vitrified the bricks and tiles of its battlements and machecoules. When the news of the disaster in Moscow reached Sigismund he sent the delegates and hostages as prisoners to Marienburg. Shortly afterwards Smolensk capitulated: the brave Shein was tortured for holding out so long, then Sigismund returned to Warsaw and led the ex-Tsar Shooiski in triumph through the streets. He delayed in hastening needed reinforcements to the besieged garrison in the Kremlin of Moscow, counting those that reached it during the conflagration sufficient.

During Easter week Liapunov arrived; he was closely followed by Zarutski with Don-Cossacks and Prince Troubetskoi with the levies from Kaluga. The Russian forces camped on the ashes of the Bielo Gorod and, if the leaders had been united and vigilant, success might have been theirs. Day by day the situation became more dangerous for the beleaguered Poles—obliged to make frequent sorties for food, and losing men on each occasion. Zapieha made an attempt to relieve the garrison but failed; the 100,000 Russians round the Kremlin kept him away, but themselves were unable to carry the fortress by assault and too lax to starve the enemy out.

Gonsievski did well. Threats failing to move the stubborn Hermogen, a letter was written to the leader of the Cossacks to the effect that Liapunov intended to ruin them. They treacherously killed him; the cause of Russia seemed lost, for there was no longer a leader in whom all could trust, but impostors and intriguers beyond count. The Cossacks determined to fight for their own hand; the nobles and boyards held aloof, save those with the Poles in the Kremlin. Zapieha revictualled the garrison; Sweden threatened Novgorod, and called the heir-apparent Tsar of Russia; a fresh usurper found a following at Pskov; Cossacks, Poles and brigands of different nationalities overran the country, pillaged towns and burned villages, and during that winter of 1611-12 food was so scarce that “men devoured each other.” There was no Sovereign recognised, no chief authority, no law. From time to time the Archimandrite Denis, and his able seconder Abraham Palitizin, sent letters to the different towns urging the people to rise, retake Moscow, and save the holy relics. Hermogen was starving imprisoned in the Kremlin; the Poles allowed the ex-patriarch Ignatius to act in his stead. Moscow was powerless. The other towns commenced to govern themselves and to raise local forces for their own protection.

The high priest Sabbas made a stirring appeal to the people to unite and deliver their fatherland. His eloquence moved the citizens of Nijni-Novgorod to tears. He called on the faithful “to assert their unity, join together to defend the pure and true religion of Christ, free the holy cathedral of the Blessed Virgin, and recover the sainted remains of the miracle workers of Moscow.”

An elder of the province, one Cosma Minin, by trade a butcher, exhorted his neighbours to initiate the rising. His appeal was, “Orthodox! If we wish to save our country, do not fear to sacrifice our goods, to sell our possessions, aye, even to pledge our wives and children if need be, and find a commander faithful to our religion and capable of leading us, then will victory be ours!”

The most suitable leader seemed to Minin to be the Prince Pojarski who had fought at Moscow and been wounded in the fray. He lived near by on his estate in Suzdal, and to him Minin went and offered the command of the volunteering peasants. Pojarski had shown no strong partisanship, had sought favours of no one, and was willing to fight for the general good. These provincials were undoubtedly in earnest; a three days’ fast was enjoined and made obligatory for all, even suckling babes. When the troops began to gather together, in the spring of 1612, the Poles and boyards in the Kremlin became desperate, and once more ordered Hermogen to command the leaders to disperse their forces. He refused; and in the days of dire necessity that followed he died, starved to death, and was buried within the Chudov Monastery.

Prince Pojarski advanced very slowly towards Moscow: it appeared to be that he was waiting for an assembly general at Yaroslavl to elect a tsar, fearing without a sovereign the Russian provincial troops would not act together against so many enemies, native and foreign.

The garrison of the Kremlin, now commanded by Struss, was ill-provisioned. The Cossacks had retired to the south-east, Zarutski’s intention being to beat up reinforcements and re-attack with the followers of the “little Tsar” and secure the throne for Marina and her son. From the west, Khodkevich came with reinforcements and provisions to the relief of Struss. Pojarski arrived on the 18th August, but was separated from Troubetskoi. On the 21st August Khodkevich arrived on that side of the town guarded by Pojarski, whose troops therefore were the first to be attacked.

DOM ROMANOF
DOM ROMANOF

On the 23rd the poles and Pojarski engaged in a fierce battle. Later Troubetskoi led his men also against the Poles, and with him went a part of the Cossack army. Khodkevich was driven back, but fought stubbornly. The next day he renewed his attempt to reach the Kremlin. Pojarski begged Troubetskoi to join forces, and Abraham Politzin persuaded the Cossacks to assist in defeating the Polish relief. Attacked on both sides simultaneously, Khodkevich retreated from the commanding position he had occupied; then the sudden appearance of Minin, with a few hundred peasants who fought most savagely, turned the retreat into a rout, and the Polish treasure fell into the hands of the Cossacks. After this victory Pojarski and Troubetskoi joined forces and formed a provisional administration. The defenders of the Kremlin were in despair. They were short of food and ammunition, and the fact that 300 Poles had forced their way through the Russian ranks and joined the garrison was in no way advantageous. Soon they deserted the Kitai Gorod and took refuge in the Kremlin, holding it a month longer in hope that relief would reach them. The usual horrors of a long siege were manifest; not only did they devour everything that was eatable, but even gnawed at their own flesh and disinterred corpses. The boyards with their wives and families were sent out of the Kremlin and at last the Poles were compelled by hunger to surrender. On the 25th October the Muscovites made their entry into the Kremlin, and after much thanksgiving and praise, proceeded to the election of a new ruler. Sigismund with an army was coming to the relief of the Poles, but was unable to subdue the towns on his way. His ambassadors to the Muscovites were not even received by the victorious leaders. The Swedes were informed that no one of their race would be elected. Boyards intrigued for Galitzin, for Shooiski, and for others. The provincial army was determined that there should be a general assembly for the election of the Tsar, and the candidate most favoured by all classes seemed to be the young Michael Theodorovich Romanof.

Old men remembered Anastasia Romanof, the first wife of Ivan the Terrible; younger ones had nothing but praise for Philaret, the present head of the family; all pitied the persecutions and hardships its members had suffered because of their relationship to the old royal line—if unanimity was necessary, no candidate had so good a chance of securing it as had the young Romanof. On February 21st, 1613, the electors met around the Lobnoe Mesto in the Grand Square. The crowd shouted lustily for Mikhail Theodorovich Romanof, and to the general wish the electors gave the only possible expression. By some it is thought that the crown was offered to Pojarski who declined it; it is a fiction of latter day poets, as are Dmitriev’s lines:—

The new dynasty was founded, but quite early, if the tradition be true, was likely to have been extinguished. The Poles on learning the news endeavoured to put the young Romanof to death; an attempt to waylay him was frustrated by the heroism of the peasant Sussanin who, in the district of Kostroma, gave his “life for the Tsar” by leading astray in the forest the murderous band searching for him. Historians now say that he had no opportunity of so doing, but the fact remains that for some service rendered the Romanofs the Sussanins for many generations enjoyed rare privileges, and if the tale be not true, it has at least resulted in the Russians obtaining from the theme their finest opera, Glinka’s “Life for the Tsar.”

The “time of trouble” for Moscow was not over on the appointment of a Tsar, but the Muscovites entered upon a very glorious era with a Tsar of their own choosing.