The account of this unfortunate young man is as romantic as any
novelist could possibly desire. Its full details are probably only to
be found in one work, and that one a work of great rarity and
antiquity, by Jean Baptiste de Rocoles, historiographer of France in
the latter part of the seventeenth century. The recital of Monsieur de
Rocoles acquires greater interest from the fact that he himself derived
a portion of his particulars from eye-witnesses, including the account
of the hero's death, which was witnessed by an Austrian colonel named
Bertrand.
According to the most reliable accounts of the defeat and overthrow of
the second false Demetrius, his wife Marina was cast into prison, and
their infant son, only three years old, publicly hanged. If this were
true, and the following history veracious, the Czarina must have given
birth to a second son whilst in captivity; but there does not appear to
be any historic evidence on the point. The pretender always styled
himself the son of the Czar Demetrius; not, of course, in any way
admitting that there were two pseudo Demetriuses.
"The time of the confusion," as it is styled in Russian history, was
fruitful in the production of such impostors. Besides the two more
important claimants already spoken of, and the man whose story claims
this chapter, another false Demetrius was started, under Polish
protection, in 1611; and a short time before that, a claimant to the
title of Czarevitch Peter appeared, and alleged that he was a son of
the Czar Feodor the First; but after some short-lived success both
perished.
According to the account of De Rocoles, the Czarina Marina, when thrown
into prison by the murderers of her husband, escaped maltreatment by
alleging that she was _enceinte_. This excuse was sufficient to
preserve her from the terrible fate which befel many of her female
attendants, but she was carefully guarded henceforth by her captors,
who only waited for her child's birth to immediately put an end to its
existence. Well aware of the fate which awaited her unborn babe, the
ex-Czarina procured the body of a dead infant, and at her
_accouchement_ had it substituted for the male child which she gave
birth to.
The newly-born boy was confided to the care of a Cossack woman, the
mother of the dead babe, and was duly baptized Demetrius by a priestly
confidant, and indelibly marked on the shoulder with a cross, to enable
its royal birth to be proved when the opportunity arose. Some little
time after this Marina found herself dying, and on her deathbed she
confided to her attendants the stratagem by which she had preserved her
son's life, and by them the secret was re-told to the Poles, who, four
or five years later, came to Moscow with General Stanislas Solskonski.
In the meanwhile, the Cossack to whom young Demetrius had been
confided, and who brought him up in ignorance of his paternity, died
without having any opportunity, or at all events availing herself of
it, to reveal the secret of the boy's birth.
The year 1632 arrived, and the youthful Demetrius had nearly attained
his twenty-sixth year. Going one day, by chance, to bathe in a small
river in the vicinity of the little town of Samburg, in Black Russia,
where he lived, another bather drew attention to the marks on his
shoulder, and upbraided him for coming to bathe with honest men,
deeming that he had been branded for some crime. The poor young man
endeavoured to excuse himself by protesting that he had been born with
this cross on his shoulder, as, indeed, he believed he had; and upon
his companions examining the marks, they perceived that, though they
were legible, they were quite different to anything they had ever seen
upon the body of a malefactor. The story of the strange cross upon the
young man's shoulder was soon noised about all over the neighbourhood,
and coming to the ears of John Danielonski, the Royal Treasurer, he
desired to see Demetrius. A number of his domestics were sent after
the unknown, and he was soon found and taken before the grand official,
where the poverty of his attire, and the wretchedness of his condition,
were apparent to all.
The Treasurer, having some presentiment or knowledge of the way in
which the young Demetrius had been marked, spoke to the young man
kindly, and bidding him cast off all fear, asked to be allowed to see
the said figuring upon his shoulder. The unknown, who was of handsome
form and features, drew open his poor vest, and baring his shoulder,
showed the marks which had been tattooed upon him at birth.
Danielonski was enabled to trace the cross, but could not decipher the
letters of which it was formed. A Russian priest, however, being
found, he quickly read them, and affirmed that they stood for
"Demetrius, son of the Czar Demetrius."
The joy of the Treasurer was immense at having discovered a son of the
late Czar; he kissed the hands of the astounded prince, wished him
every happiness, and placed all that could be wished for at his
disposal. The joyous tidings spread in every direction; a courier was
at once despatched to Vladislas the Fourth, who was then King of
Poland, and the young man's claims bruited about everywhere.
Vladislas, only too glad of an opportunity to annoy Alexis, the then
Czar of Moscovy, sent at once for the young claimant to come to his
court at Warsaw, and on his arrival awarded him an equipage suited to
his presumed dignity. When the pseudo Czarewitch appeared at court,
decked out in all his newly-acquired finery, he excited favourable
attention by his handsome looks and kindly behaviour. He contracted a
firm friendship with the nephew of the Grand Khan of Tartary, who,
having been ousted from his possessions by an uncle, had sought and
found an asylum in the Polish court. An apparent similarity of
misfortune drew them together, and Vladislas, doubtlessly finding it
suit his policy to encourage their pretensions, treated the two young
men with every kindness, protested that he regarded them as sons, he
not having any of his own, and declared that he would not leave
anything undone to replace them upon their respective thrones.
Intelligence of the arrival and friendly reception of Demetrius at the
Polish court was not long in travelling to Moscow; the Czar was greatly
enraged when he heard of what had occurred, and sent an envoy to
Vladislas to demand that the person of the _soi disant_ Czarewitch
should be given up to him. The Latin address which the Moscovite
ambassador delivered to the Polish King when he made his demand is
still preserved, and is chiefly remarkable for the hundred and one
titles by which the Russian monarch was designated. Vladislas
responded to the wearisome harangue in the same language, to the effect
that no consideration would induce him to hand Prince Demetrius over to
his rival Alexis, and he took no pains to conceal from the envoy that
he meant to support the claims of his guest as far as lay in his power.
The fruitlessness of this mission gave great uneasiness to the Czar,
and caused him to seek out every possible alliance. Fate soon assisted
him.
In 1648 Vladislas died, and was succeeded on the Polish throne by John
Casimir, who, having to fight with Charles of Sweden, and other
European powers, found it necessary to secure the neutrality of Russia;
he was, therefore, obliged to banish Demetrius. The unfortunate man at
first took refuge in Revel, in the little republic of Livonia. The
magistrates and principal citizens received him with regal honours,
but, on their refusal to deliver him up to the Czar, were threatened by
that potentate with war. Reluctantly his hosts were compelled to
request their luckless guest to seek another asylum, but on his
departure they made him handsome presents, and had him safely and
honourably escorted to the seaport of Riga.
The innocent impostor, as he has been termed, now made his way to
Sweden, but political reasons drove him quickly thence, and he next
sought safety with the Duke of Holstein Gottorp. He met with a
friendly reception, but the fates had timed his visit at a most
inopportune moment. The Duke had recently negotiated a treaty of
commerce with the Czar, and while engaged on the embassy, Eurchmann,
one of his envoys, had pledged his master's credit, without his
authority, for a large sum of money, variously stated at one hundred
thousand and three hundred thousand crowns; for which misdeed, upon his
return to Holstein, he was decapitated. The Duke was, or appeared to
be, in a state of embarrassment as to the liquidation of the debt, when
a Russian agent, who was residing at Lubeck, and knew the value of the
claimant to the Russian Czar, opened negotiations with Holstein's
ruler, and, pretending to the only too willing prince that his guest
was merely a common impostor, arranged for his delivery to Alexis in
exchange for the receipts of the money brought away and owed for by his
envoy. This is the common account of the nefarious transaction, but in
all probability the whole affair had been previously arranged between
the two sovereigns, and Eurchmann and Demetrius were the victims of the
royal plot.
Be the truth what it may, suffices to say that the Duke of Holstein
seized Demetrius, and delivered him up to the Russians sent to receive
him, obtaining in return the bills for the money owing. The
unfortunate man was hurried on board a vessel, transported to the
Russian coast, and taken thence by rapid stages to Moscow. Directly he
arrived in the metropolis the captive had a wooden gag forced into his
mouth to prevent him speaking, and was confronted by an old woman,
bribed for the purpose, who declared herself to be his mother, and
upbraided him for unnatural ingratitude to her, and his presumption in
disowning his parent; finally, desiring him to avow his misdeeds, and
not to let her endure the misery of beholding him executed for his
imposture.
Averting his head, Demetrius showed plainly by significant gestures
that he neither acknowledged her claims, nor heeded them; whilst to the
priests, who addressed him in a similar strain, and urged him to
confess his imposture, he simply responded by uplifting his eyes and
hands towards heaven, as if resigning himself to its decree. The
unhappy man was then taken out on to the great esplanade in front of
the castle of Moscow, and there executed on the 31st of December, 1653,
in the forty-seventh year of his age.
The Czar Alexis was not contented with the mere death of his hapless
rival, but had his head severed from his body, which was quartered and
elevated upon four poles, whilst portions of his remains were left
scattered on the frozen ground as a repast for the dogs. The Polish
ambassador, who that same day had audience of the vindictive Emperor,
was conducted to the place of execution, and shown all that now
remained of the unfortunate being whom his late master had so delighted
to honour.
The biographer of this pseudo Demetrius finds no little pleasure in
recording that the Russian agent who negotiated the sale of our hero
met with a miserable death, "in punishment for causing innocent blood
to be shed;" that John Casimir, the King of Poland, who first drove him
from his place of safety, was obliged to abdicate his throne, and that
the Duke of Holstein was despoiled of his domains by his
brother-in-law, Christian the Fifth of Denmark. He moreover records
the general opinion that unless the execution of Demetrius had taken
place as quickly as it did--that had it only been delayed for two
hours--the populace would have risen against Alexis to despoil him of
his kingdom, and place his victim on the throne in his stead.
It is a somewhat more agreeable pendant to this wretched story to know
that the old companion in misfortune of Demetrius, the nephew of the
Grand Khan of Tartary, ultimately succeeded to the throne of his uncle,
and that he seized every occasion of expressing his hatred of John
Casimir for having abandoned the beloved _protege_ of his brother
Vladislas.