WRITERS in the west still ignore the history of Russia previous to the reign of Peter the Great, attributing to that monarch reforms he did not initiate, and a policy of which he was not the author and followed but indifferently. The real makers of the Russian nation were the wise Romanofs who preceded the tyrant Peter. The history of the period may be briefly recounted, apart from the story of the construction of the great town—the Moscow of the Tsars. It was under the Tsar Michael that the relations of Russia with the west became general; under Alexis, who succeeded him in 1645, not only were the Poles driven back and other enemies conquered, but those great social and economic reforms were introduced, the working of which subsequently “westernised” Russia. Theodore during his short reign of five years successfully continued what his father had commenced. It was the claims made on behalf of his half-brother Peter that caused the hands of the clock to be set back. The story of Peter is well known, but its teaching has been often misinterpreted. To obtain the truth let the Moscow of Theodore Alexeivich be compared with the Russia of Peter, or of any of his eighteenth century successors. The one exhibits the highest normal achievement of purely Muscovite ideals, and reveals the capacity of Russia to absorb what is nearest akin to its own spirit from among the more progressive motives of the west. Peter crudely grafted a coarse imitation of western forms upon a rarer stock; stagnation and corruption were the result. It was not until the nineteenth century, and the complete abandonment of Peter’s policy, that Russia once more advanced towards civilisation.

A country devastated by foreign invaders and surrounded with bitter and relentless enemies; a territory wasted by internecine warfare; the cinders of a capital; an empty treasury; a famished and pestilent ridden people—such was the gift of the electors in 1613 to Michael Theodorovich Romanof, a boy of sixteen, whose mother was in a convent and father in a foreign prison. No wonder that he hesitated, and that his friends urged prudence. The people were honest, and Michael exacted proofs of their earnestness. Slowly he advanced towards Moscow, urging his subjects to prepare suitable apartments for himself and his mother in the spoiled ruins of the Kremlin, to store afresh the warehouses with provisions and replenish the treasury. The boyards answered that they had already prepared the palace of Ivan for himself, and a suite in the convent of the Ascension for his mother, but it was impossible to restore the Golden Palace and terem of the Tsaritsa Irene, for there was no money, carpenters were lacking, the buildings roofless, and the stairs, corridors, doors, windows, and all furnishings were no longer in existence; it would be necessary to rebuild, and time pressed. Michael was not satisfied; the palaces must be made fit for habitation, if materials were lacking those of other buildings must be used, and as for the apartments in the convent, “it will not suit my mother to occupy them.” Ultimately the Tsar’s behests were executed, and in May he made his state entry, more than two months after his election to the throne.

Both at home and abroad his position was regarded as precarious. Zarutski, who had with him Marina Mniszek, the widow of the false Dmitri, and her son, held Kazan and ruled the districts bordering the Volga. He was ultimately captured, and executed in Moscow. Marina and her son were also taken; according to native writers she “died in prison of chagrin”; according to foreigners in Russia at that time, she and her son were thrust beneath the ice on the river Oka. Sweeden continued the war, and would not relinquish her claim to the throne. It terminated after Gustavus Adolphus was repulsed at Pskov, and failed to take Narva. A Swedish officer states that “from their youth up, the Muscovites are inured to continuous labour and much fasting, and can make shift long with meal, salt and water only. They hold it to be a deadly and unpardonable sin to surrender a fortress, and prefer to die happily for their Tsar and country.” The Swedes contemplated a long siege, but by the good offices of the Dutch and English an armistice of three months was agreed to, and in 1617 a lasting peace concluded on terms disadvantageous to Russia. An army of Poles was marching upon Moscow, when it was re-inforced by Ronashevich-Salidachni at the head of 20,000 Cossacks; Michael repulsed their attack on Moscow, but, anxious to secure his father’s release, agreed to relinquish Smolensk, so a peace to endure fourteen years and six months was thereupon made. Immediately after his coronation the Tsar sent envoys to England, Germany and the Netherlands, seeking their assistance in securing peace. The English promised a loan of £100,000 and paid 16,000 roubles only towards it; but King James prevented Scots taking service in Poland against Russia, and the Tsar obtained his munitions of war from the English factory at Archangel. In such fashion was a respite obtained, so that undivided attention might be given to establishing good order within the Tsar’s Empire. Surely no ruler started with greater disadvantages than did Michael. To the inexperience of youth must be added a lack of competent advisers. The old hereditary aristocracy had for the most part disappeared; those members who survived had taken sides with either the second impostor or the Poles, and in them he dared not trust. There remained only appointed military and civil officers, boyards, whose titles were not hereditary, secretaries, and gentlemen of the council. In Russia, where there was no general instruction and little learning, all was left to a governing caste, composed of men who, from their noble birth, had the entrÉe to the court and were conversant with all affairs of state; it was this “caste” Michael lacked. The men, able men, who were not accustomed to rule, did not seek responsible posts. Even Pojarski, the saviour of the country, said to Vasili Galitzin, “If we had found such a leader as you, Vasili Vasilievich, all the country would have at once flocked to you, and it would not have devolved upon me to direct so onerous a task.” The times of trouble had forced simple citizens to occupy positions of importance; such were the butcher Cosma Minin, Zarutski, Troubetskoi, Liapunov and Fedka Andronov. To none of the humble born leaders were the degenerate nobles prepared to grant precedence or even equality; whilst on the other hand, affairs of state could no longer be entrusted to those who had betrayed the country, or by past conduct, proved themselves incapable. Squabbles for precedence at once recommenced.

When Dmitri Mikhailovich Pojarksi, the great liberator, was created a boyard, one Gabriel Pushkin threw himself at the Tsar’s feet and pleaded that the thing might not be, for “his own family was in no way inferior to that of Pojarski,” who, as boyard, would be appointed a higher place than he himself occupied at court. These nobles could not, or would not, understand that services to the state should be considered. Birth alone was to count, for these nobles to remain side by side with a person of inferior birth was considered an ignominy to which death itself was preferable. On the occasion of the Tsar’s coronation, there were several disputes for priority of place, notwithstanding that the Tsar had ordered that during the ceremonies all ranks were to be discarded. Before the coronation, in the palace of the Golden Seal Prince Tretiakov, the secretary, nominated those who were to bear the regalia. “Prince Mstislavski will throw the golden coins upon the Tsar; the new boyard, Ivan Nikitich Romanof, will carry the crown of Monomachus; Prince Dmitri Troubetskoi, the sceptre; the new boyard, Prince Pojarski, the ‘globe!’” Troubetskoi took offence that he had to cede his place to a Romanof, albeit a relative of his sovereign. The Tsar answered, “It may be that your rank is higher than that of Ivan, but he is my uncle, and you must give place to him at a time when the order of rank is not to be observed.” This appeased Troubetskoi, but later, one Boris Likof, invited to the table of the Tsar, would not cede his place until the Tsar personally intervened. On the next occasion he failed to attend, although the Tsar twice sent for him. Each time he sent the same answer, “I am ready to yield my life on the scaffold, but allow a Romanof to take precedence of a Likof I will not!” Sometimes these quarrels embarrassed the Tsar on occasions of state, as when, at the reception of the Persian envoys, his body-guard disappeared. One hid himself away so quickly that he could not be found; another feigned indisposition; another was dragged into the presence coupled with Prince Romodanovski; Cherchugov complained of Romodanovski, and Prince Pojarski also took offence, and upbraided Cherchugov for dishonouring his rank by his alliance with Romodanovski. The Tsar ordered Cherchugov to be beaten, and determined to avoid such annoyances in future by choosing his bodyguard from among the lesser nobles, who could not plead the privileges of their ancestors. When Telepnef and Larionof were appointed, one at once took offence and pointed out to the Tsar that he was a freeman of Moscow, whereas the other was but a secretary! Such were the earlier troubles of the boy-Tsar, who longed for the advice of his father in such matters of trifling importance; he, on his return to Moscow, ruled the court with commanding adroitness.

This matter of precedence came to the front again in the next reign, when Alexis settled it once and for all. Hereditary rank was based upon the achievements of one’s ancestors, which, with the titles and honours of the successful, were enumerated in the manuscript-books treasured by each family. In practice no noble would accept an office inferior to that occupied by his illustrious forefathers. Often incapable as military leaders, this meant ruin to the state. Alexis, after sufficient experience of the disasters the system entailed, proposed the abolition of hereditary rank, and petitioned the Church to pronounce upon his finding that “precedence was an institution invented by the devil, for the purpose of destroying Christian love and of increasing the hatred of brother for brother.” In due course the Patriarch declared that in the opinion of the Church, “precedence was a system opposed to God, and intended to cause confusion and hatred.” Thereupon the nobles were commanded to deliver up their “golden books of honour and great deeds,” and the records were burned, so that henceforth precedence depended upon court and military rank alone.

BELVEDERE OF THE TEREM
BELVEDERE OF THE TEREM

When Michael ascended the throne the two most powerful factions of the nobility were those headed respectively by the Miloslavksis and the Soltikovs, between whom no love was lost. To obtain greater influence and power they intrigued for the marriage of the Tsar. Michael’s choice was one Marie Kholopov, to whom he was betrothed. Before marriage she was drugged at the instigation of the Soltikovs, and her illness represented as incurable. She, and all her relatives, were then banished to Siberia for “attempting to deceive the Tsar,” and remained in exile seven years, when the Patriarch discovered the intrigue. This resulted in the fall of the Soltikovs from power, and the return of the Khlopovs to Nijni-Novgorod. Michael next chose Marie Dolgoruki, but she died a few months after marriage, and twelve months later, Michael was urged to marry again. The earlier method of selecting a bride was resorted to upon this occasion, and the Tsar’s intention made known throughout the empire. According to S. W. Glinka what took place is as follows:—

Another story, quite as like a fairy tale as this is, concerns itself with Eudoxia’s father, whom the ambassadors of the Tsar found at the plough. Lucian was not surprised at his daughter’s good fortune; he saw in it only the hand of Providence. When he forsook his thatched cottage for a suite in the palace, he carried away with him his old clothes and other things, which he hung on the wall of his new apartment, and each morning uncovered them that he might not forget his origin, and be mindful of the workers and the poor. He lived for many years within the Kremlin, saw Eudoxia’s son, Alexis, upon the throne, and found himself an honoured member of his own grandson’s household, and surrounded by his daughter’s numerous royal grandchildren.

The next occasion that offered for the intrigues of those who sought court influence through a matrimonial alliance was in 1647 when Alexis, the son of Michael and Eudoxia, resolved to marry. Of the two hundred noble maids assembled for his selection he chose Euphemia Vsevolojski, who had enemies. These arranged their plans with her maids-of-honour. When she was attired in the royal robes, her attendants twisted her hair so tightly that she swooned in the Tsar’s presence, and the Court physician declared her to be epileptic. She and her family were thereupon banished to far away Tiumen in Siberia. The next year Alexis married Marie Ilyinichna Miloslavski, who bore him thirteen children, and died in childbed in 1669. In his next marriage Alexis observed the letter of the customary proceeding but disregarded its spirit. At that time his chief counsellor was Artemon Sergievich Matviev, a man who had commanded a foreign regiment in the wars and married Mary Hamilton, one of a Scotch family resident in Moscow. Matviev had no daughter, but living with the family was Natalia Naryshkin, the daughter of Cyril Naryshkin, whose brother Theodore had married a Hamilton, the niece of Matviev’s wife. Matviev made his house as attractive as he could to the Tsar, giving western entertainments, even to the performance of comedies and tragedies in his private theatre. Western manners prevailed among them; his wife dressed in what were called “German” clothes, and both she and her ward appeared at table although strangers might be present. When the Tsar visited Matviev, Natalia, a tall, shapely brunette, herself served him with vodka and zakuska. One day the Tsar informed Matviev that he would find a husband for this charming ward; and, when the nobles were ordered to assemble their daughters, Natalia also received a command to attend at the palace. It was all prearranged, but to allay suspicion a second assembly was convened, and a final one after an interval of three weeks. When it became known that Natalia had been chosen, there was loud outcry, and anonymous letters reached the Tsar. These accused Matviev of sorcery and other dark crimes, and alleged misdemeanour on the part of Natalia. There was the usual investigation; the customary torture; and postponement of the marriage for nine months. On January the 22nd 1671 the ceremony was performed with great pomp, and Matviev that day appointed a member of the State Council as recompense “for the sufferings he had undergone in connection with the affair.” Sixteen months later—May 30th 1672—Peter the Great was born.

Natalia Naryshkin was of Tartar descent, but her training was western, and as tsaritsa she was able to free some of the “twenty-seven locks” with which the “terem” was guarded. With the accession of

KRUTITSKI VOROT
KRUTITSKI VOROT

the Romanofs there was a strong reaction from the licence of the days of the impostors, a reaction which the all powerful Philaret as patriarch did his utmost to foster. Natalia was required to conform to the rules made on behalf of former tsaritsas, but she succeeded in going openly to church with her husband, saw plays through a latticed window, and the state reception of foreign ambassadors from a screened loge. In so short a time she accomplished much, but in 1676 her husband died, and she retired with her children to a palace near the foreign suburb of Moscow, and there the young prince, Peter, was raised amid rough surroundings, for the Matvievs were exiled and Natalia barely tolerated so near the Kremlin.

Theodore II. was most scholarly of the early Tsars; he was educated by Polish teachers, and, during his short reign the first public schools in Moscow were founded under his patronage. He separated the military from the civil departments; in military matters abolished precedence, and so altered legal procedure as to bring justice within reach of the people. He built the episcopal Palace of the Monastery of St Cyril at the Krutitski Vorot, and was particularly active in adding to the beautiful churches of Moscow. To him is due that gem of Muscovite ecclesiastical architecture, the church of the Nativity and Flight, in the Mala Dmitrovka (v. page 181). With an eye for the picturesque, he laid out a pleasure-garden in the Kremlin and another on the river front by making a vaulted embankment. Further away the slopes towards the river were planted with ornamental trees; medicinal herbs were largely cultivated, and the first hot-houses appeared in Moscow. Private dwellings in the Kremlin were demolished to afford accomodation for public buildings, and particularly for homes for the aged and sick, for the Tsar resembled his father and grandfather in his care of those who had served him, and in well-doing he was tireless. He disliked pomp and ceremony, restricted the ordinary citizens of noble birth to two horses in their carriages, and reduced the number used by others on State occasions; from his ascent to the throne the court pageantry declined.

In the seventeenth century almost the whole of the Kremlin was occupied with buildings appertaining either to the state or the superior clergy. The churches are still sufficiently in evidence, but such of the old dwellings as remain have to be approached through more recent buildings. The Granovitaia (Facetted) Palace of Ivan III. (1491) presents a faÇade to the Sobornia Ploshchad, but this in no way reveals its antiquity. The constant renewal of the exterior which is indispensable to preservation in the destructive climate of Moscow, to some extent accounts for this; and the “terem,” the outside of which may be viewed from the quadrangle on which stands the old church “Spass na Boru,” is equally disappointing in this particular. Even to see the interiors the visitors must pass through the Great Palace, with which these old dwellings are now incorporated. The site occupied by the eastern end of the Great Palace is that upon which, from the founding of Moscow, the residences of its rulers have been again and again erected, but they faced the east, not south. The wooden palaces of the early Romanofs have entirely disappeared; Peter the Great removed from Moscow whatever would serve to enrich his new capital, and allowed the old royal residences to decay. It is during the present century only that they have been restored to their earlier grandeur. The palace built by the Empress Elizabeth, and occupied by Napoleon, was destroyed by the fire of 1812.

The visitor will first procure a billet d’admission at the Chamberlain’s office in Commandant Street (see plan), turn to the left on leaving the building, and walking towards the south, at the end of the street pass under the Winter Garden which connects the Treasury with the Great Palace. He will then be

in the State Courtyard; on the left a gateway communicates with the quadrangle in which is the old church “Spass na Boru;” the last door on the right is the public entrance to the Treasury. Traversing the courtyard and turning to the left he will reach the grand entrance of the Great Palace and enter there. Passing from the vestibule by the escalier d’honneur the Hall of St George will be reached. It contains sixteen allegorical groups commemorative of the conquests by Russia of Perm, Kazan, Siberia, Kamchatka, Tartary, the Caucasus, etc. The military order of St George was founded by the Empress Catherine II. in 1769, but the effigy of St George, on his white horse, slaying the Dragon, as already mentioned is of Norse origin and was the device used by Yaroslaf the Great in the eleventh century and definitely adopted as the arms of the principality of Moscow by Dmitri after his victory over the Tartars at Kulikova (1380); it figured on the coins, and April 23 (old style) this Saint’s day, is observed throughout Russia. The names inscribed on the wall are those of the individuals admitted to the order, and of the regiments likewise decorated; in short, this Hall of St George Pobiedonosets (the Conqueror) is the Russian Valhalla. The adjoining Hall of Alexander Nevski, is remarkable apart from its richness and beauty, for the six pictures by MÜller illustrating the chief events in the life of the Saint: beyond is the Throne room—Griffins, the device of the Romanofs, conspicuous in the decorations—and next the Hall of St Catherine, the state room of the Tsaritsa. The older palaces will be reached directly from the Hall of St Vladimir, or, after passing through the personal apartments of the Tsar, by the Holy Corridor, so named because there the clergy attend to conduct the Tsar to state services in the Cathedrals. It dates from the reign of Ivan III. (15th cent.) and is, in short, a continuation of that terrace which fronts the eastern side of the Great Palace, and has its counterpart in the principal approach to every old-fashioned Russian house. The Krasnoe Kriltso—how hateful the vulgar, and absolutely incorrect, translation, “Red Steps!”—is simply the state entrance to the reception rooms, in contradistinction to the Postyelnoe Kriltso (Back stairs) or private entrance, communicating with the personal apartments of the sovereign, or boyard. To comprehend the importance of the Terem rightly, it must be remembered that actually the state apartments of the sovereign were where the Great Palace now is, and that this corridor served both as a rendezvous for courtiers and the Tsar’s way of communication from his private to his official suites. Another staircase, to which the boyards had not access, led directly from the inner court, near the Postyelnoe Kriltso, to the Terem. The state suite in the seventeenth century comprised: an audience chamber (the middle Golden Palace); a smaller Golden Palace, once the audience chamber of the Tsaritsa; the Stolovia Izba, or saloon for fÊtes; the Krestavia, for the celebration of solemn ceremonies by the clergy and household; the Otvietna Palace, where illustrious visitors were entertained; and the Higher Golden Palace, a council chamber for the consideration of grave questions of state. For most of these purposes the buildings still in existence have served temporarily at different periods.

Descending seven steps from this corridor, the Palace of the Tsaritsa Irene, or lesser Golden Palace, is entered. Sneguirev is of opinion that this was originally the apartment of the Archbishop. The Slavonic inscription over the portal is merely to the effect that the decorations were made by order of Tsar Alexis Mikhailovich, and restored on the coronation of the Emperor Paul. It was here that in 1653 the Tsaritsa Marie Ilyinichna received the Tsaritsa of Georgia, and later the Tsaritsa Natalia Kyrilevna received the homage of the Princes of Kasimof and Siberia. On the vaulted roof are representations of Olga’s journey to Constantinople, Helena obtaining the true cross, the Council convened by the Emperor Theophilus the Iconoclast, and portraits of the Tsaritsas, Irene, Theodora, Sophia, and Olga. A vaulted corridor leads to an entrance from the square behind the Uspenski Sobor. It is called the “Passage of the Patriarchs” from the seven portraits of the Russian Patriarchs which adorn the walls.

Almost upon a level with the Holy Corridor is the entrance to the Old Church of the Nativity of the Virgin, immediately below which is the Chapel of the Resurrection of St Lazarus (see page 45), the oldest existing building in Moscow. It is only an obscure crypt, but in one of the round pillars, facing the ikonastas is a niche which probably served as the loge of the reigning prince. The entrance with an old inscription was but recently discovered. The Church of the Nativity of the Virgin, dates from 1393, when the Tsaritsa Eudoxia, wife of Dmitri Donskoi, erected the first structure on the side of the older Church of St Lazarus. It was destroyed by lightning in 1414, burned in 1473, fell in 1480, and in 1514 was rebuilt by Vasili Ivanovich, and probably again reconstructed early in the seventeenth century. It then became one of the churches of the palace, and has remained the particular church of the Tsaritsas. The old stoves are of an ancient Russian model; according to tradition the Tsaritisas in bygone days were placed upon one of these stoves during their confinements. The ikonostas was injured in 1812, but has been restored and some of the ikons are richly decorated with rubies and other gems of great value.

Above the lesser Golden Palace is a chapel of small dimensions, known commonly as the “Cathedral of Our Saviour behind the Golden Gates,” actually dedicated to “Our Saviour on High” (Verkhospasski); its other name is due to the fact that the entrance to it is on the far, or private, side of the gilt wicket that barred the entrance to the Terem. It was built in 1635 by the Bajenko Ogurtsev, a Russian architect employed by the Tsar Michael, and was restored by his grandson, Theodore II., and many times subsequently. In the seventeenth century it was the private chapel of the sovereigns. In it the sons of Alexis were baptised; here it was that in times of danger, as during the revolt of the Strelsti (see ch. x. and p. 130) the royal princes sought refuge, and from here Ivan Naryshkin went to his murder by the Strelsti who were clamouring for his head. The church is closed by three doors all modelled after the “gilt wicket”; it possesses a magnificent ikonostas of chiselled silver, the gift of the Countess Soltikov, which marvellously escaped the plunderers of 1812. Its ikons include one of the Saviour, “not made with hands” (v. chapter ix. p. 182), said to have been brought to Moscow in 1472 by Sophia Paleologus, and one of Lupin, the centurion, the patron saint of the Romanofs. There is also an old ikonastas in the adjoining chapel of St John the Baptist. On the north side of the Verkhospasski Church, also on this third storey, is the Seventeenth Century Church of the Resurrection, on the threshold of which, if tradition may be believed, Athanasius Naryshkin was struck down by the Streltsi in 1682. It is lighter than ordinary Russian Churches, lofty, with an ogival vaulted roof and almost entirely covered with frescoes. The western door has representations of the eight Sybils. The mediÆval incense-burner suspended in the centre is of foreign, probably Dutch, origin, and apart from its own attractiveness serves well to contrast the great differences in Western and Russian handicraft, for the ikonostas has some excellent relief work. The paintings at the east-end are on a gold ground, at one period a prevalent fashion with Russian ikon painters. The brilliant colouring, the lavish use of gold and silver, and the bright illumination, so unusual in Russian churches, together make this royal chapel one of the most interesting of those in the Kremlin. It was from the corridor leading to this church that the first “Dmitri” is said to have been thrown; the window, which had been blocked up, will be pointed out to the visitor before entering the Chapel of the Crucifixion, which is over this corridor and on the same level as the fourth storey of the Terem. The interior of this chapel is very gloomy; the floor of black and white marble may assist in its recognition. Its most interesting feature is the ikonostas of embroidery, the work of the Tsaritsas and their daughters. The faces of the saints on the ikons are painted upon canvas, and the vestments instead of metal are of worked silk and other tissues. At the entrance is the private oratory of the Tsar Alexis, and amongst other things which will be pointed out as having some connection with the younger members of this Tsar’s family, is the spot upon which he at one time erected a “Golgotha”; the cross is of cedar, pine and cypress, contributed by three princes. This church was built in 1679 and communicates with the “Church of the Holy Vestments,” by the door to the left of the entrance, a piece of work highly characteristic of Russian art at this period.

There are other churches and chapels which are technically private chapels of the palace, as are also the Cathedrals of the Assumption and Annunciation, but these are dealt with elsewhere. Those actually within, or communicating with the Terem, are those above enumerated, and in addition there is the old Chapel of St John the Baptist “in the wood,” now removed to the second floor of the tower over the Borovitski Gate.

Richly carved doors, of a type truly Muscovite and mediÆval, lead from the Holy Corridor to the larger Golden Hall of the Granovitaia Palace. This building is the work of two Italians, Marco Ruffo, and Pietro Antonio, at the close of the fifteenth century, and has its name of “Facetted” Palace from the trimming of the stone blocks of the external walls to imitate some earlier ornate wooden building. The large Hall is the old throne room of the Tsars Vasili, Ivan “Groznoi” and Boris Godunov. The old custom of a state banquet on the day of the coronation is still observed. On this occasion, as in olden times, the Tsar is seated at a table with such other reigning sovereigns as may be present; his near relations are by etiquette still excluded from the room, and view the ceremony from the small window near the ceiling, immediately opposite the “Krasnoe Ugol” or throne. Around the central pillar which supports the vaulted roof, the “mountain” is placed on which the Imperial plate is displayed on state occasions, just as it was in the days of Herberstein, Jenkinson, and the early ambassadors to the Muscovite Court. Here, too, Ivan “Groznoi” received the Khan’s emissaries and the rusty knife his victorious enemy had sent him that he might cut his own throat; here for three days he regaled his companions after the fall of Kazan: here Boris Godunov entertained the Danish Prince, suitor for the hand of the Tsarevna Xenia; here, in 1653, Alexis received the submission of Bogdan Khmelnitski and the cession of Little Russia. Peter I. also celebrated herein his victory over Charles XII. at Poltava, and in 1767, Catherine II. confided to the delegates the celebrated “Nakaz” for the compilation of the new code of law. Its present condition closely resembles its primitive aspect, traces of Peter the Great’s vandalism having been removed; the walls uncovered; the paintings restored; the windows refitted; and older furnishings substituted for the tapestry and decorations of Peter and his successors. The paintings, as the inscription states, were made in 1882 by two “brothers Bieloosov, ikon painters, peasants of the village of Palekha.” Chancellor and his companions when ushered into the Golden Palace encountered Ivan the Terrible. “The Russian Tsar, sitting on a lofty couch, arrayed in robes of silver, and now wearing a different diadem. In the middle of the room stood a huge abacus with a square pedestal, surmounted with a succession of orbicular tiers, which regularly tapered towards the culminating point, and was adorned with such profusion of plate and costly rarities that it was almost overburdened with the great weight of them, and the greater part were of the choicest gold. Four vases, conspicuous by their size, served specially to enhance the splendour of the other golden vessels, for they were nearly five feet in height. Four tables, placed separately on each side of the hall and raised to the height of three steps above the floor, were bespread with the very finest napery and attended by a numerous company.” One thing which surprised Chancellor was the great reverence shown the Tsar when he spoke, by the whole company “rising simultaneously and bending low their bodies with a sort of gesture of adoration, silently resume their seats.”

The Terem is a building of five storeys, each higher one smaller than any below and the topmost but a single room, with a porch leading to the flat roof from which, before blocked by the Great Palace, a splendid view was obtainable. The ground floor was built early in the sixteenth century, but serves now for storerooms only, and the one above, reached by a door under the staircase, consists of a private suite formerly the workrooms of the palace and now utilised for the preservation of old charters. The staircase with carved stone steps is separated from the palace by the “gilt-wicket” which formerly divided the private from the state and court rooms of the palace. It is of a quite ordinary design when compared with the much more elaborate wrought metal-work found elsewhere in the palaces and churches of the Kremlin. The first room reached was originally the “vestibule,” but serves now as a breakfast-room; the cases contain the old seals of the Kingdom; the walls and vaulted roof covered with pictures and the stove of fine old glazed Russian tiles, a variety of faience the secret of whose manufacture has been lost. Near to this room is the Council Chamber, and, further, what originally served as the private room of the Tsars, but was latterly used as a throne room. In the bronze casket is the deed of election which appointed Mikhail Theodorovich to the throne. In the “Krasnoe Ugol,” or “Grand Corner,” is the seat of the Tsar Alexis with a carpet before it, the handiwork of his daughters. The window adjoining is that from which Dmitri, and other rulers, lowered the basket for the petitions of all and sundry who wished directly to communicate with the Tsar. Adjoining this room is a bedroom, once occupied by the unfortunate Tsarevich Alexis Petrovich. The oratory has two ikons which formerly belonged to the Tsar Alexis, as did also the cross. The belvedere reached by either of two separate staircases, was built by the Tsar Michael for the accommodation of his children, and in later reigns may have been used as a council chamber for the “duma” of the boyards. The Tsars Alexis and Theodore II. were brought up in the Terem; Peter the Great occupied it only occasionally, chiefly before his travels abroad, and his son Alexis was its last regal inmate.

TEREM—THE THRONE ROOM
TEREM—THE THRONE ROOM

lasted about two hours, and afterwards the sovereign gave private audience to ministers until midday, when he took his first repast, ordinarily frugal to scantiness and eaten alone. During Lent the Tsar Alexis made but three meals each week, and ate fish but twice, on fast days taking only a morsel of black bread and a pickled mushroom; he drank either kvas or small beer: his devotions occupied five hours of each day, and often he prostrated himself more than a thousand times daily.

“Fast day or not the Tsar’s table was always well supplied, but of the seventy or more dishes usually served the greater part were presented to his courtiers and officers. After the midday repast, the sovereign invariably retired for a short sleep, arising for vespers at about three o’clock, when he was always attended by the court. Occasionally state business was transacted after evening service, but generally the remainder of the day was spent in recreations; theatricals, music and chess were chief among these. Court pilgrims were the Muscovite equivalent of the wandering minstrels of the British courts. The Tsar Alexis particularly was interested in the recitals of ‘experienced’ men who had travelled in distant parts of his kingdom and liked to hear often the recollections of the grey-beards who had known the Moscow of the ‘troublous times.’ If their stories failed, resource was had to a reading of the chronicles, ecclesiastical and profane. The pensioners were housed in the Kremlin near the royal palace, and were under the immediate protection of the Tsar, who himself not frequently followed some centenarian to the specially appointed burial place in the Bogo-yavlenni Monastyr.

“The Tsaritsas for the most part occupied themselves with their own devotions and the direction of the work rooms of the palace; very occasionally with their children they accompanied the Tsar to the Krasnoe Kriltso to be ‘beholden of the people.’ Sometimes they witnessed state ceremonies from a secluded corner of the throne room, and in the evening witnessed the amusements in the Potieshni Dvorets; were diverted by the tricks of mountebanks and jugglers; listened to songs, or watched the special dancers engaged for their amusement. Their journeys abroad were restricted to visiting the convents and churches, pilgrimages to the Troitsa Monastery, or the season’s change to a suburban palace. Although they attended High Mass in the cathedrals, they were seldom seen by the public, being always surrounded by a guard of chamber-women who carried ecrans and, arranging themselves before the Tsaritsa, screened her from the eyes of the curious. Doubtless the strict etiquette was departed from in the semi-state of the summer palaces at Kolomenskoe and Preobrajenskoe, and certainly the Tsaritsa Natalia failed in various ways to observe the strict seclusion of the Terem. A state procession in the days of Alexis was a wonderful pageant: on his visit to the Novo Devichi Convent he was preceded by 600 horsemen, three abreast, all dressed in cloth of gold. Grooms led the twenty-five white stallions harnessed to a coach draped with scarlet and gold: a guard of honour surrounded it; the Tsar followed in a smaller coach drawn by six white horses; boyards in state robes were his escort. Petitioners thronged the procession and their written requests were deposited in a special box carried behind the Tsar. The Tsarevich, with a long cortege, followed. The Tsaritsa was preceded by forty grooms with magnificent steeds, and her own coach drawn by ten white horses, and behind her the Tsarevna in a similar carriage drawn by eight horses. The waiting-women, to the number of twenty or more, rode astride white horses; they wore scarlet robes, white hats with yellow ribbons and long feathers; white veils hid part of their faces; top boots of bright yellow completed their costume. The guard consisted of 300 of the Streltsi with their showiest weapons, and behind them came pensioners, boyards and officers of the court.”—Zabielin.