I rode straight to the monastery at Troitsa, hoping to find opportunity
for serving the Tsar Peter with distinction. This, it seemed to me,
might prove the hour of his destiny, unless indeed terror should have
rendered him unfit to assert himself. But I found matters went strongly
for Peter and against Sophia, for there flowed into Troitsa a constant
stream of soldiers, some from Preobrajensky, others Streltsi deserters,
some serf soldiers sent in hurriedly by the Boyars who were on Peter’s
side, and even the newly-enrolled men of Gordon’s and Lefort’s
regiments, upon whom the Regent had depended the most. There would be no
fighting, and no opportunity for distinction, for the weight all tilted
naturally to one side.
As for Tsar Peter, after hiding himself for a day or two in the forests,
the prey of helpless terror, he found heart of grace and came to
Troitsa, from which safe retreat he dictated terms to his sister the
Regent, which terms were no terms, indeed, since she herself was now
compelled to take the veil, while he possessed himself of the throne,
whence from this time he reigned as undisputed Tsar, though Ivan, for a
while, made a show of sitting conjointly with his brother upon the
highest seat.
Now that Peter reigned I had great hopes to turn the tables upon
Mazeppa. This time surely the luck was mine! for here was I in Moscow,
driven hither, moreover, by Mazeppa himself, just in the nick of time!
Destiny had dealt the good cards into my hands for once, and the old
fox, Mazeppa, should be smoked out of his hole!
Meanwhile I went, not without anxiety, to see my Vera. Mazeppa’s words,
even though I did not believe them, had been somewhat disquieting. Had
the Tsar stolen her from me? Not her heart, indeed--I felt sure that
that was my own--but her hand. If he should have announced his intention
to choose her for his bride, what could she have done, with none to help
her escape the undesired splendour of this betrothal?
I found the house of Boyar Kurbatof, like many another mansion in Moscow
during these days, in trouble and disorder--the Boyar himself under
arrest, Vera almost beside herself with helpless misery, knowing not
what she should do or where she should go.
If I had had any doubt of her good faith towards me, her reception of me
when I arrived unexpectedly would have dissipated such doubt. She flew
to meet me with a scream of delight and lay for a moment locked in my
arms, weeping tears of joy and relief.
‘Are you mine, Vera, are you mine?’ I murmured. ‘Tell me quickly!’
‘Oh, whose should I be?’ she whispered back. ‘Have I ever been other
than yours, dear Chelminsky?’
‘Not the Tsar’s?’ I said. ‘It was told me that he would have none but
you, and I feared--I know not what; for this Peter is not like that
Ivan!’
‘I stood well with his Highness,’ Vera laughed, ‘for three months after
you had gone. Then he wearied of me, and Olga Kostromsky was favourite.
Then Avdotia Lapouchine appeared, and he is betrothed to her: have you
not heard?’
The news relieved me greatly, though I did not tell Vera how much, lest
she should think me lacking in the virtue of trustfulness.
‘And what of Mazeppa?’ I asked.
Then Vera told me that though Mazeppa, upon receiving his nomination as
Hetman, had presumed to visit once again the home he had outraged, in
order to resume his suit for Vera’s hand, the old Boyar her father had
caused his servants to expel him from the house without deigning to
speak to him or give him any answer to his insolent advances.
Mazeppa’s words to me had conveyed a very different meaning.
As for the Boyar’s arrest, her father had been so indignant, said Vera,
over the conduct of Tsar Peter, who had seemed to choose Vera for his
bride and had afterwards passed her over for another, that he had
violently sided with the Regent so soon as differences arose, lending
her money and serf-levies from his estates, which conduct brought about
his arrest by Peter’s orders, as soon as the young Tsar heard of it.
Having thus made sure of my Vera, I hastened again to Troitsa in order
to push my interest with Tsar Peter; but his Highness was so busy that I
could not obtain his ear.
‘Wait,’ he said, ‘good Chelminsky; let us first see what I am; my
sister’s sins still hang about my neck!’
Therefore I waited a week, and a second week, the Tsar being now in
Moscow, and at the end of that time I obtained from Peter the saying
that there might soon be reason for making a change in the office of
Hetman, and that I should have the next nomination!
This was something, though not much.
Then suddenly, as I walked one day within the Kremlin walls, I met
Mazeppa.
He greeted me friendly, as though there had never been a difference
between us, thanking heaven that he had been able at our last meeting to
allow me to escape from Batourin:
‘My captains were all dead against mercy,’ said he. ‘I had no easy
matter, believe me, to bring them to an agreement concerning thee. Why
didst thou rebel against me, Chelminsky? Canst thou not be happy unless
thy head stands higher than my own?’
‘I shall conspire and rebel again, never fear!’ I laughed. ‘You have not
yet quite done with me, Mazeppa! As for thy mercy, I think it was a lie:
thou wouldst have had me shot or captured. Rather it was thy captains
that stayed thy hand!’
‘Believe as you will,’ he replied angrily; ‘what is it to me? Only
remember, the Ukraine is not safe for thee in future. Because of thy own
foolishness there is no longer room in our country for Mazeppa and for
Chelminsky also.’
‘Is Mazeppa among the prophets?’ I laughed. ‘Neither to me is it given
to know the future, my friend, nor to thee. I may yet stand very high
among the Cossacks!’
‘Think’st thou so? Hast thou spoken to his Highness as to this foolish
ambition of thine? No? Then understand that I have been before thee in
this matter, and that thou shalt henceforth whine and beg to him in
vain, for nothing will come of thy entreaties!’
And indeed, when I at last obtained the Tsar’s ear, I found that Mazeppa
had been before me, and that in his own mysterious fashion he had not
only pleased the Tsar by his manner and bearing (he whom the Tsar had
disliked up to now!), but also inspired confidence by his political
arguments.
So that when I spoke to the Tsar on the subject of the Hetmanate, he put
me somewhat brusquely aside, saying that the present Hetman’s attitude
was correct and pleasing, and that it would be unnecessary to make any
change.
‘But what of thy promises, Tsar?’ I said bitterly. ‘Instead of
fulfilling them to my advantage, thou has exalted my enemy over my
head!’
‘Not I, Chelminsky; thou art suffering, my man, for the deeds of my
sister and Galitsin, which should be a glory to thee, seeing that I have
suffered and am suffering the same. This Mazeppa has shown me, moreover,
that he will make as good a Hetman as thou. His speech is the very
incarnate genius of the Cossack race; learn from him awhile, my friend,
and in time thou shalt take his place!’
I was bitterly disappointed by the Tsar’s conduct, and I doubt not my
looks showed it, for he laughed and clapped me upon the shoulder. ‘Look
not so mournful, man!’ he said. ‘On the whole I have done well by thee,
for have I not left thee that wench of thine, Vera?’ The Tsar burst into
a roar of laughter, in the midst of which I bowed myself out of his
presence, hurt and indignant.
When I told Vera of my disappointment and of the Tsar’s boast that he
had left her to me as an act of friendliness, she flushed and told me
that he had left her, indeed, to me, but out of no friendliness. ‘Ask
him what befell when he grew more familiar than was pleasing to me?’ she
said. And though I did not ask his Highness, I know now that Vera
actually boxed the Tsar’s ears on one occasion, thereby immensely
raising his respect for her as well as his admiration, though not his
affection, which had already begun to wane in favour of others. The Tsar
Peter’s heart was ever of the butterfly nature, flitting from flower to
flower and remaining longest there where most honey is obtainable.
To which respect and admiration of the Tsar Vera added much when
presently she went with me to claim forgiveness for her father.
The Tsar grew angry when Vera proffered her request, but when he made a
show of refusing it Vera grew angry also.
‘A worthy Tsar, thou!’ she exclaimed, ‘that beginnest thy reign by
taking vengeance upon old men, and by breaking promises to those who
have well served thee!’
‘What mean you by that, minx?’ exclaimed Peter angrily. ‘May I not
punish those who have offended me? And as for promises, what promise
have I made that I will not one day redeem?’
‘My father was loyal to the Regent while her Highness claimed the
obedience of the Boyars. Is there offence in that? If _thou_ hadst been
reigning Tsar instead of a Tsar in leading-strings, and he had lent thee
treasure and men, would that have been a crime? Up to the moment of thy
proclamation the Boyars were her Highness’s men, not thine. To-day my
father would serve thee, even as he served the Regent.’
‘Well, we shall see; it may be that I shall test his loyalty through his
purse,’ said Peter, laughing. As to the broken promise--is this fellow
Chelminsky thy husband, that thou shouldst speak thus boldly for him?’
‘As forever he has been husband of my heart, let woo who would!’ said
Vera.
The Tsar flushed and looked for a moment as though he would reply
passionately; but though his face worked and his head jerked round in
the manner I have since learned to know as the forerunner of that cruel
mood into which he too frequently relapses now in middle age, he
recovered himself and laughed aloud.
‘By the Majesty of Saint Cyril, wench,’ he said, ‘thou art a bold one:
darest thou marry such a minx, Chelminsky?’
‘I must marry her or die, Tsar,’ I said, ‘wherefore I dare less to
marry.’
Vera laughed and pressed my arm. ‘Make him Hetman, Tsar,’ she said: ‘he
will serve thee better than the fox thou hast set up.’
But in this matter the young Tsar was immovable.
‘Good Lord, girl,’ he said, ‘must all things go as thou wouldst have
them? He shall be Hetman of all the Cossacks now in Moscow--does that
satisfy thee?--with reversion at Batourin when Mazeppa shall have proved
himself the fox you think him!’
And with this appointment, which was indeed an excellent one, I was
obliged to remain content, hoping ever that Mazeppa must one day show
himself for what I knew him to be. Yet though the Tsar received from far
and near almost daily complaints of Mazeppa’s deceitfulness--how he
misruled his Cossacks, coquetted with Pole, Swede and Tartar, and was
faithless to every friend he possessed--yet Peter, in this one instance,
mistook his man from first to last; believing his word, trusting him in
face of overwhelming evidence, and standing his friend and ally through
every attempt, whether political or private, to shake his faith in the
Hetman. The Tsar was usually a better judge of character than he showed
himself in Mazeppa’s case!
A fox among foxes, and certainly the most plausible liar the world has
ever seen, was this fox Mazeppa, with whose cunning my poor feeble wits
had lately essayed to cope. And will it be believed that the great and
wise Tsar himself was perhaps the only human being who was blind to the
real character of the man? Was he indeed blind? Rather men will say that
if Mazeppa was a fox, Peter was no less; and that he saw his advantage
in being served by such a Hetman!
Nevertheless there came a day, after many years, when at length the
scales fell from Peter’s eyes. For Mazeppa himself--at the first great
opportunity in his life when he must choose definitely a side--proved
that he was but a dabbler in politics, and that he no more understood
the greatness of his master than the rest of the world had then realised
it.
That day was one of those stirring ones which preceded the battle of
Pultowa.