Proceedings against prince Alexis Petrowitz.
Peter the Great, at the age of seventeen, had married, in the year 1689,
Eudocia Theodora, or Theodorouna Lapoukin. Bred up in the prejudices of
her country, and incapable of surmounting them like her husband, the
greatest opposition he met with in erecting his empire, and forming his
people, came from her: she was, as is too common to her sex, a slave to
superstition; every new and useful alteration she looked upon as a
species of sacrilege; and every foreigner, whom the czar employed to
execute his great designs, appeared to her no better than as corruptors
and innovators.
Her open and public complaints gave encouragement to the factious, and
those who were the advocates for ancient customs and manners. Her
conduct, in other respects, by no means made amends for such heavy
imperfections. The czar was at length obliged to repudiate her in 1696,
and shut her up in a convent at Susdal, where they obliged her to take
the veil under the name of Helena.
The son, whom he had by her in 1690, was born unhappily with the
disposition of his mother, and that disposition received additional
strength from his very first education. My memoirs say, that he was
entrusted to the care of superstitious men, who ruined his understanding
for ever. 'Twas in vain that they hoped to correct these first
impressions, by giving him foreign preceptors; their very quality of
being foreigners disgusted him. He was not born destitute of genius; he
spoke and wrote German well; he had a tolerable notion of designing, and
understood something of mathematics: but these very memoirs affirm, that
the reading of ecclesiastical books was the ruin of him. The young
Alexis imagined he saw in these books a condemnation of every thing
which his father had done. There were some priests at the head of the
malcontents, and by the priests he suffered himself to be governed.
They persuaded him that the whole nation looked with horror upon the
enterprises of Peter; that the frequent illnesses of the czar promised
but a short life; and that his son could not hope to please the nation,
but by testifying his aversion for all changes of custom. These murmurs,
and these counsels, did not break out into an open faction or
conspiracy, but every thing seemed to tend that way, and the tempers of
the people were inflamed.
Peter's marriage with Catherine in 1707, and the children which he had
by her, began to sour the disposition of the young prince. Peter tried
every method to reclaim him: he even placed him at the head of the
regency for a year; he sent him to travel; he married him in 1711, at
the end of the campaign of Pruth, to the princess of Brunswick. This
marriage was attended with great misfortunes. Alexis, now twenty years
old, gave himself up to the debauchery of youth, and that boorishness of
ancient manners he so much delighted in. These irregularities almost
brutalized him. His wife, despised, ill-treated, wanting even
necessaries, and deprived of all comforts, languished away in
disappointment, and died at last of grief, the first of November, 1715.
She left the prince Alexis one son; and according to the natural order,
this son was one day to become heir to the empire. Peter perceived with
sorrow, that when he should be no more, all his labours were likely to
be destroyed by those of his own blood. After the death of the princess,
he wrote a letter to his son, equally tender and resolute: it finished
with these words: 'I will still wait a little time, to see if you will
correct yourself; if not, know that I will cut you off from the
succession, as we lop off a useless member. Don't imagine, that I mean
only to intimidate you; don't rely upon the title of being my only son;
for if I spare not my own life for my country, and the good of my
people, how shall I spare you? I will rather choose to leave my kingdom
to a foreigner who deserves it, than to my own son, who makes himself
unworthy of it.'
This is the letter of a father, but it is still more the letter of a
legislator; it shews us, besides, that the order of succession was not
invariably established in Russia, as in other kingdoms, by those
fundamental laws which take away from fathers the right of disinheriting
their children; and the czar believed he had an undoubted prerogative to
dispose of an empire which he had founded.
At this very time the empress Catherine was brought to bed of a prince,
who died afterwards in 1719. Whether this news sunk the courage of
Alexis, or whether it was imprudence or bad counsel, he wrote to his
father, that he renounced the crown, and all hopes of reigning. 'I take
God to witness,' says he, 'and I swear by my soul that I will never
pretend to the succession. I put my children into your hands, and I
desire only a provision for life.'
The czar wrote him a second letter, as follows:[98]--'You speak of the
succession, as if I stood in need of your consent in the disposal
thereof. I reproached you with the aversion you have shewn to all kind
of business, and signified to you, that I was highly dissatisfied with
your conduct in general; but to these particulars you have given me no
answer. Paternal exhortations make no impression on you, wherefore I
resolved to write you this once for the last time. If you despise the
advice I give you while I am alive, what regard will you pay to them
after my death? But though you had the inclination at present to be true
to your promises, yet a corrupt priesthood will be able to turn you at
pleasure, and force you to falsify them. They have no dependance but
upon you. You have no sense of gratitude towards him who gave you your
being. Have you ever assisted him in toils and labours since you arrived
at the age of maturity? Do you not censure and condemn, nay, even affect
to hold in detestation, whatever I do for the good of my people? In a
word, I have reason to conclude, that if you survive me, you will
overturn every thing that I have done. Take your choice, either
endeavour to make yourself worthy of the throne, or embrace a monastic
state. I expect your answer, either in writing, or by word of mouth,
otherwise I shall treat you as a common malefactor.'
This letter was very severe, and it was easy for the prince to have
replied, that he would alter his conduct; instead of which, he only
returned a short answer to his father, desiring permission to turn
monk.[100]
This resolution appeared altogether unnatural; and it may furnish matter
of surprise, that the czar should think of travelling, and leaving a son
at home so obstinate and ill-affected; but, at the same time, his doing
so, is next to a proof, that he thought he had no reason to apprehend a
conspiracy from that son.
The czar, before he set out for Germany and France, went to pay his son
a visit. The prince, who was at that time ill, or at least feigned
himself so, received his father in his bed, where he protested, with the
most solemn oaths, that he was ready to retire into a cloister. The czar
gave him six months to consider of it, and then set out on his travels
with the czarina.
No sooner was he arrived at Copenhagen, than he heard (what he might
reasonably expect) that the czarowitz conversed only with factions and
evil-minded persons, who strove to feed his discontent. Upon this the
czar wrote to him, that he had to choose between a throne and a convent;
and that, if he had any thoughts of succeeding him, he must immediately
set out and join him at Copenhagen.
But the confidants of the prince remonstrating to him how dangerous it
would be to trust himself in a place where he could have no friends to
advise him, and where he would be exposed to the anger of an incensed
father, and the machinations of a revengeful step-mother; he, under
pretence of going to join his father at Copenhagen, took the road to
Vienna, and threw himself under the protection of the emperor Charles
VI. his brother-in-law, intending to remain at his court till the death
of the czar.
This adventure of the czarowitz was nearly the same as that of Lewis XI.
of France, who, when he was dauphin, quitted the court of his father
Charles VII. and took refuge with the duke of Burgundy; but the dauphin
was much more culpable than Alexis, inasmuch as he married in direct
opposition to his father's will, raised an army against him, and threw
himself into the arms of a prince, who was Charles's declared enemy, and
refused to hearken to the repeated remonstances of his father, to return
back to his court.
The czarowitz, on the contrary, had married only in compliance with his
father's orders, had never rebelled against him, nor raised an army, nor
taken refuge in the dominions of an enemy, and returned to throw himself
at his feet, upon the very first letter he received from him; for, as
soon as Peter knew that his son had been at Vienna, and had afterwards
retired to Tyrol, and from thence to Naples, which, at that time,
belonged to the emperor, he dispatched Romanzoff, a captain of his
guards, and the privy-counsellor Tolstoy, with a letter written with his
own hand, and dated at Spa, the 21st of July, N. S. 1717. They found the
prince at Naples, in the castle of St. Elme, and delivered to him his
father's letter, which was as follows:--
'I now write to you for the last time, to acquaint you, that you must
instantly comply with my orders, which will be communicated to you by
Tolstoy and Romanzoff. If you obey, I give you my sacred word and
promise, that I will not punish you; and that, if you will return home,
I will love you more than ever; but, if you do not, I, as your father,
and in virtue of the authority which God has given me over you, denounce
against you my eternal curse; and, as your sovereign, declare to you,
that I will find means to punish your disobedience, in which I trust God
himself will assist me, and espouse the just cause of an injured parent
and king.
'For the rest, remember that I have never laid any restraint upon you.
Was I obliged to leave you at liberty to choose your way of life? Had I
not the power in my own hands to oblige you to conform to my will? I had
only to command, and make myself obeyed.'
The viceroy of Naples found it no difficult matter to persuade the
czarowitz to return to his father. This is an incontestable proof that
the emperor had no intention to enter into any engagements with the
prince, that might give umbrage to his father. Alexis therefore returned
with the envoys, bringing with him his mistress, Aphrosyne, who had been
the companion of his elopement.
We may consider the czarowitz as an ill-advised young man, who had gone
to Vienna and to Naples, instead of going to Copenhagen, agreeable to
the orders of his father and sovereign. Had he been guilty of no other
crime than this, which is common enough with young and giddy persons, it
was certainly very excusable. The prince determined to return to his
father, on the faith of his having taken God to witness, that he not
only would pardon him, but that he would love him better than ever. But
it appears by the instructions given to the two envoys who went to fetch
him, and even by the czar's own letter, that his father required him to
declare the persons who had been his counsellors, and also to fulfil
the oath he had made of renouncing the succession.
It seemed difficult to reconcile this exclusion of the czarowitz from
the succession, with the other part of the oath, by which the czar had
bound himself in his letter, namely that of loving his son better than
ever. Perhaps divided between paternal love, and the justice he owed to
himself and people, as a sovereign, he might limit the renewal of his
affection to his son in a convent, instead of to that son on a throne:
perhaps, likewise, he was in hopes to reduce him to reason, and to
render him worthy of the succession at last, by making him sensible of
the loss of a crown which he had forfeited by his own indiscretion. In a
circumstance so uncommon, so intricate, and so afflicting, it may be
easily supposed that the minds of both father and son were under equal
perturbation, and hardly consistent with themselves.
The prince arrived at Moscow on the 13th of February, N. S. 1717; and
the same day went to throw himself at his father's feet, who was
returned to the city from his travels. They had a long conference
together, and a report was immediately spread through the city, that the
prince and his father were reconciled, and that all past transactions
were buried in oblivion. But the next day, orders were issued for the
regiments of guards to be under arms at break of day, and for all the
czar's ministers, boyards, and counsellors, to repair to the great hall
of the castle; as also for the prelates, together with two monks of St.
Basile, professors of divinity, to assemble in the cathedral, at the
tolling of the great bell. The unhappy prince was then conducted to the
great castle like a prisoner, and being come in his father's presence,
threw himself in tears at his feet, and presented a writing, containing
a confession of his faults, declaring himself unworthy of the
succession, and imploring only that his life might be spared.[101]
The czar, raising up his son, withdrew with him into a private room,
where he put many questions to him, declaring to him at the same time,
that if he concealed any one circumstance relating to his elopement, his
life should answer for it. The prince was then brought back to the great
hall, where the council was assembled, and the czar's declaration, which
had been previously prepared, was there publicly read in his
presence.[102]
In this piece the czar reproaches his son with all those faults we have
before related, namely, his little application to study, his connexions
with the favourers of the ancient customs and manners of the country,
and his ill-behaviour to his wife.--'He has even violated the conjugal
faith,' saith the czar in his manifesto, 'by giving his affection to a
prostitute of the most servile and low condition, during the life-time
of his lawful spouse.' It is certain that Peter himself had repudiated
his own wife in favour of a captive, but that captive was a person of
exemplary merit, and the czar had just cause for discontent against his
wife, who was at the same time his subject. The czarowitz, on the
contrary, had abandoned his princess for a young woman, hardly known to
any one, and who had no other merit but that of personal charms. So far
there appears some errors of a young man, which a parent ought to
reprimand in secret, and which he might have pardoned.
The czar, in his manifesto, next reproaches his son with his flight to
Vienna, and his having put himself under the emperor's protection; and
adds, that he had calumniated his father, by telling the emperor that he
was persecuted by him; and that he had compelled him to renounce the
succession; and, lastly, that he had made intercession with the emperor
to assist him with an armed force.
Here it immediately occurs, that the emperor could not, with any
propriety, have entered into a war with the czar on such an occasion;
nor could he have interposed otherwise between an incensed father and a
disobedient son, than by his good offices to promote a reconciliation.
Accordingly we find, that Charles VI. contented himself with giving a
temporary asylum to the fugitive prince, and readily sent him back on
the first requisition of the czar, in consequence of being informed of
the place his son had chosen for his retreat.
Peter adds, in this terrible piece, that Alexis had persuaded the
emperor, that he went in danger of his life, if he returned back to
Russia. Surely it was in some measure justifying these complaints of the
prince, to condemn him to death at his return, and especially after so
solemn a promise to pardon him; but we shall see, in the course of this
history, the cause which afterwards moved the czar to denounce this
ever-memorable sentence. For the present let us turn our eyes upon an
absolute prince, pleading against his son before an august assembly.--
'In this manner,' says he, 'has our son returned; and although, by his
withdrawing himself and raising calumnies against us, he has deserved to
be punished with death, yet, out of our paternal affection, we pardon
his crimes; but, considering his unworthiness, and the series of his
irregular conduct, we cannot in conscience leave him the succession to
the throne of Russia; foreseeing that, by his vicious courses, he would,
after our decease, entirely destroy the glory of our nation, and the
safety of our dominions, which we have recovered from the enemy.
'Now, as we should pity our states and our faithful subjects, if, by
such a successor, we should throw them back into a much worse condition
than ever they were yet; so, by the paternal authority, and, in quality
of sovereign prince, in consideration of the safety of our dominions, we
do deprive our said son Alexis, for his crimes and unworthiness, of the
succession after us to our throne of Russia, even though there should
not remain one single person of our family after us.
'And we do constitute and declare successor to the said throne after us,
our second son, Peter,[103] though yet very young, having no successor
that is older.
'We lay upon our said son Alexis our paternal curse, if ever at any time
he pretends to, or reclaims, the said succession.
'And we desire our faithful subjects, whether ecclesiastics or seculars,
of all ranks and conditions, and the whole Russian nation, in conformity
to this constitution and our will, to acknowledge and consider our son
Peter, appointed by us to succeed, as lawful successor, and agreeably to
this our constitution, to confirm the whole by oath before the holy
altar, upon the holy gospel, kissing the cross.
'And all those who shall ever at any time oppose this our will, and who,
from this day forward, shall dare to consider our son Alexis as
successor, or assist him for that purpose, declare them traitors to us
and our country. And we have ordered that these presents shall be every
where published and promulgated, to the end that no person may pretend
ignorance.'
It would seem that this declaration had been prepared beforehand for the
occasion, or that it had been drawn up with astonishing dispatch: for
the czarowitz did not return to Moscow till the 13th of February, and
his renunciation in favour of the empress Catherine's son is dated the
14th.
The prince on his part signed his renunciation, whereby he acknowledges
his exclusion to be just, as having merited it by his own fault and
unworthiness; 'And I do hereby swear,' adds he, 'in presence of God
Almighty in the Holy Trinity, to submit in all things to my father's
will,' &c.
These instruments being signed, the czar went in procession to the
cathedral, where they were read a second time, when the whole body of
clergy signed their approbation with their seals at the bottom, to a
copy prepared for that purpose.[104] No prince was ever disinherited in
so authentic a manner. There are many states in which an act of this
kind would be of no validity; but in Russia, as in ancient Rome, every
father has a power of depriving his son of his succession, and this
power was still stronger in a sovereign than in a private subject, and
especially in such a sovereign as Peter.
But, nevertheless, it was to be apprehended, that those who had
encouraged the prince in his opposition to his father's will, and had
advised him to withdraw himself from his court, might one day endeavour
to set aside a renunciation which had been procured by force, and
restore to the eldest son that crown which had been violently snatched
from him to place on the head of a younger brother by a second marriage.
In this case it was easy to foresee a civil war, and a total subversion
of all the great and useful projects which Peter had so much laboured to
establish; and therefore the present matter in question was to determine
between the welfare of near eighteen millions of souls (which was nearly
the number which the empire of Russia contained at that time), and the
interest of a single person incapable of governing. Hence it became
necessary to find out those who were disaffected, and accordingly the
czar a second time threatened his son with the most fatal consequences
if he concealed any thing: and the prince was obliged to undergo a
judicial examination by his father, and afterwards by the commissioners
appointed for that purpose.
One principal article of the charge brought against him, and that which
served chiefly to his condemnation, was, a letter from one Beyer, the
emperor's resident at the court of Russia, dated at Petersburg, after
the flight of the prince. This letter makes mention of a mutiny in the
Russian army then assembled at Mecklenburg, and that several officers
talked of clapping up Catherine and her son in the prison where the late
empress, whom Peter had repudiated, was then confined, and of placing
the czarowitz on the throne, as soon as he could be found out and
brought back. These idle projects fell to the ground of themselves, and
there was not the least appearance that Alexis had ever countenanced
them. The whole was only a piece of news related by a foreigner; the
letter itself was not directed to the prince, and he had only a copy
thereof transmitted him while at Vienna.
But a charge of a more grievous nature appeared against him, namely, the
heads of a letter written with his own hand, and which he had sent,
while at the court of Vienna, to the senators and prelates of Russia, in
which were the following very strong assertions:--'The continual
ill-treatment which I have suffered without having deserved it, have at
length obliged me to consult my peace and safety by flight. I have
narrowly escaped being confined in a convent, by those who have already
served my mother in the same manner. I am now under the protection of a
great prince, and I beseech you not to abandon me in this conjuncture.'
The expression, _in this conjuncture_, which might be construed into a
seditious meaning, appeared to have been blotted out, and then inserted
again by his own hand, and afterwards blotted out a second time; which
shewed it to be the action of a young man disturbed in his mind,
following the dictates of his resentment, and repenting of it at the
very instant. There were only the copies of these letters found: they
were never sent to the persons they were designed for, the court of
Vienna having taken care to stop them; a convincing proof that the
emperor never intended to break with the czar, or to assist the son to
take up arms against his father.
Several witnesses were brought to confront the prince, and one of them,
named Afanassief, deposed, that he had formerly heard him speak these
words,--'I shall mention something to the bishops, who will mention it
again to the lower clergy, and they to the parish priests, and the crown
will be placed on my head whether I will or not.'
His own mistress, Aphrosyne, was likewise brought to give evidence
against him. The charge, however, was not well supported in all its
parts; there did not appear to have been any regular plan formed, any
chain of intrigues, or any thing like a conspiration or combination, nor
the least shadow of preparation for a change in the government. The
whole affair was that of a son, of a depraved and factious disposition,
who thought himself injured by his father, who fled from him, and who
wished for his death; but this son was heir to the greatest monarchy in
our hemisphere, and in his situation and place he could not be guilty of
trivial faults.
After the accusations of his mistress, another witness was brought
against him, in relation to the former czarina his mother, and the
princess Mary his sister. He was charged with having consulted the
former in regard to his flight, and of having mentioned it to the
princess Mary. The bishop of Rostow, who was the confidant of all three,
having been seized, deposed, that the two princesses, who were then shut
up in a convent, had expressed their wishes for a revolution in affairs
that might restore them their liberty, and had even encouraged the
prince, by their advice, to withdraw himself out of the kingdom. The
more natural their resentment was, the more it was to be apprehended. We
shall see, at the end of this chapter, what kind of a person the bishop
of Rostow was, and what had been his conduct.
The czarowitz at first denied several facts of this nature which were
alleged against him, and by this very behaviour subjected himself to the
punishment of death, with which his father had threatened him in case he
did not make an open and sincere confession.
At last, however, he acknowledged several disrespectful expressions
against his father, which were laid to his charge, but excused himself
by saying, he had been hurried away by passion and drink.
The czar himself drew up several new interrogations. The fourth ran as
follows:--
'When you found by Beyer's letter that there was a mutiny among the
troops in Mecklenburg, you seemed pleased with it; you must certainly
have had some reason for it; and I imagine you would have joined the
rebels even during my life-time?'
This was interrogating the prince on the subject of his private
thoughts, which, though they might be revealed to a father, who may, by
his advice, correct them, yet might they also with justice be concealed
from a judge, who decides only upon acknowledged facts. The private
sentiments of a man's heart have nothing to do in a criminal process,
and the prince was at liberty either to deny them or disguise them, in
such manner as he should think best for his own safety, as being under
no obligation to lay open his heart, and yet we find him returning the
following answer: 'If the rebels had called upon me during your
life-time, I do verily believe I should have joined them, supposing I
had found them sufficiently strong.'
It is hardly conceivable that he could have made this reply of himself,
and it would be full as extraordinary, at least according to the custom
in our part of the world, to condemn a person for confessing that he
might have thought in a certain manner in a conjuncture that never
happened.
To this strange confession of his private thoughts, which had till then
been concealed in the bottom of his heart, they added proofs that could
hardly be admitted as such in a court of justice in any other country.
The prince, sinking under his misfortunes, and almost deprived of his
senses, studied within himself, with all the ingenuity of fear, for
whatever could most effectually serve for his destruction; and at length
acknowledged, that in private confession to the archpriest James, he had
wished his father dead; and that his confessor made answer, 'God will
pardon you this wish: we all wish the same.'
The canons of our church do not admit of proofs resulting from private
confession, inasmuch as they are held inviolable secrets between God and
the penitent: and both the Greek and Latin churches are agreed, that
this intimate and secret correspondence between a sinner and the Deity
are beyond the cognizance of a temporal court of justice. But here the
welfare of a kingdom and a king were concerned. The archpriest, being
put to the torture, confirmed all that the prince had revealed; and this
trial furnished the unprecedented instance of a confessor accused by his
penitent, and that penitent by his own mistress. To this may be added
another singular circumstance, namely, the archbishop of Rezan having
been involved in several accusations on account of having spoken too
favourably of the young czarowitz in one of his sermons, at the time
that his father's resentment first broke out against him; that weak
prince declared, in his answer to one of the interrogations, that he had
depended on the assistance of that prelate, at the same time that he was
at the head of the ecclesiastical court, which the czar had consulted in
relation to this criminal process against his son, as we shall see in
the course of this chapter.
There is another remark to be made in this extraordinary trial, which we
find so very lamely related in the absurd History of Peter the Great, by
the pretended bojar Nestersuranoy, and that is the following:
Among other answers which the czarowitz Alexis made to the first
question put to him by his father, he acknowledges, that while he was at
Vienna, finding that he could not be admitted to see the emperor, he
applied himself to count Schonborn, the high chamberlain, who told him,
the emperor would not abandon him, and that as soon as occasion should
offer, by the death of his father, that he would assist him to recover
the throne by force of arms. 'Upon which,' adds the prince, 'I made him
the following answer: "This is what I by no means desire: if the emperor
will only grant me his protection for the present, I ask no more."' This
deposition is plain, natural, and carries with it strong marks of the
truth; for it would have been the height of madness to have asked the
emperor for an armed force to dethrone his father, and no one would have
ventured to have made such an absurd proposal, either to the emperor,
prince Eugene, or to the council. This deposition bears date in the
month of February, and four months afterwards, namely, after the 1st of
July, and towards the latter end of the proceedings against the
czarowitz, that prince is made to say, in the last answers he delivered
in writing:--
'Being unwilling to imitate my father in any thing, I endeavoured to
secure myself the succession by any means whatever, _excepting such as
were just_. I attempted to get it by a foreign assistance; and, had I
succeeded, and that the emperor had fulfilled _what he had promised me_,
to replace me on the throne of Russia even by force of arms, I would
have left nothing undone to have got possession of it. For instance, if
the emperor had demanded of me, in return for his services, a body of my
own troops to fight for him against any power whatever, that might be in
arms against him, or a large sum of money to defray the charges of a
war, I should have readily granted every thing he asked, and should have
gratified his ministers and generals with magnificent presents. I would
at my own expense have maintained the auxiliary troops he might have
furnished to put me in possession of the crown; and, in a word, I should
have thought nothing too much to have accomplished my ends.'
This answer seems greatly strained, and appears as if the unhappy
deponent was exerting his utmost efforts to appear more culpable than he
really was; nay, he seems to have spoken absolutely contrary to truth in
a capital point. He says the emperor had promised to procure him the
crown by force of arms. This is absolutely false: Schonborn had given
him hopes that, after the death of his father, the emperor might assist
him to recover his birth-right; but the emperor himself never made him
any promise. And lastly, the matter in question was not if he should
take arms against his father, but if he should succeed him after his
death?
By this last deposition he declares what he believes he should have
done, had he been obliged to dispute his birth-right, which he had not
formally renounced till after his journey to Vienna and Naples. Here
then we have a second deposition, not of any thing he had already done,
and the actual commission of which, would have subjected him to the
rigorous inquiry of the law, but of what he imagines he should have done
had occasion offered, and which consequently is no subject of a
juridical inquiry. Thus does he twice together accuse himself of private
thoughts that he might have entertained in a future time. The known
world does not produce an instance of a man tried and condemned for
vague and inconsequential notions that came into his head, and which he
never communicated to any one; nor is there a court of justice in Europe
that will hear a man accuse himself of criminal thoughts; nay, we
believe that they are not punished by God himself, unless accompanied by
a fixed resolution to put them in practice.
To these natural reflections it may be answered, that the czarowitz had
given his father a just right to punish him, by having withheld the
names of several of the accomplices of his flight. His pardon was
promised him only on condition of making a full and open confession,
which he did not till it was too late. Lastly, after so public an
affair, it was not in human nature that Alexis should ever forgive a
brother in favour of whom he had been disinherited; therefore, it was
thought better to punish one guilty person, than to expose a whole
nation to danger, and herein the rigour of justice and reasons of state
acted in concert.
We must not judge of the manners and laws of one nation by those of
others. The czar was possessed of the fatal, but incontestable right of
punishing his son with death, for the single crime of having withdrawn
himself out of the kingdom against his consent; and he thus explains
himself in his declaration addressed to the prelates and others, who
composed the high courts of justice. 'Though, according to all laws,
civil and divine, and especially those of this empire, which grant an
absolute jurisdiction to fathers over their children (even fathers in
private life) we have a full and unlimited power to judge our son for
his crimes according to our pleasure, without asking the advice of any
person whatsoever: yet, as men are more liable to prejudice and
partiality in their own affairs, than in those of others, and as the
most eminent and expert physicians rely not on their judgment concerning
themselves, but call in the advice and assistance of others; so we,
under the fear of God, and an awful dread of offending him, in like
manner make known our disease, and apply to you for a cure; being
apprehensive of eternal death, if ignorant perhaps of the nature of our
distemper, we should attempt to cure ourselves; and the rather as in a
solemn appeal to Almighty God, I have signed, sworn, and confirmed a
promise of pardon to my son, in case he should declare to me the truth.
'And though he has violated this promise, by concealing the most
important circumstances of his rebellious design against us; yet that we
may not in any thing swerve from our obligations, we pray you to
consider this affair with seriousness and attention, and report what
punishment he deserves without favour or partiality either to him or
me; for should you apprehend that he deserves but a slight punishment,
it will be disagreeable to me. I swear to you by the great God and his
judgments, that you have nothing to fear on this head.
'Neither let the reflection of your being to pass sentence on the son of
your prince have any influence on you, but administer justice without
respect of persons, and destroy not your own souls and mine also, by
doing any thing to injure our country, or upbraid our consciences in the
great and terrible day of judgment.'
The czar afterwards addressed himself to the clergy,[105] by another
declaration to the same purpose; so that every thing was transacted in
the most authentic manner, and Peter's behaviour through the whole of
this affair was so open and undisguised, as shewed him to be fully
satisfied of the justice of his cause.
On the first of July the clergy delivered their opinion in writing. In
fact, it was their opinion only, and not a judgment, which the czar
required of them. The beginning is deserving the attention of all
Europe.
'This affair (say the prelates and the rest of the clergy) does in no
wise fall within the verge of the ecclesiastical court, nor is the
absolute power invested in the sovereign of the Russian empire subject
to the cognizance of his people; but he has an unlimited power of acting
herein as to him shall seem best, without any inferior having a right to
intermeddle therein.'
After their preamble they proceed to cite several texts of scripture,
particularly Leviticus, wherein it is said, 'Cursed be he that curseth
his father or mother;' and the gospel of St. Matthew, which repeats this
severe denunciation. And they concluded, after several other
quotations,[106] with these remarkable words:
'If his majesty is inclinable to punish the offender according to his
deeds and the measure of his crimes, he has before him the examples in
the Old Testament, if on the other hand, he is inclined to shew mercy,
he has a pattern in our Lord Jesus Christ, who receives the prodigal
son, when returning with a contrite heart, who set free the woman taken
in adultery, whom the law sentenced to be stoned to death, and who
prefers mercy to burnt-offerings. He has likewise the example of David,
who spared his son Absalom, who had rebelled against and persecuted him,
saying to his captains, when going forth to the fight, "Spare my son
Absalom." The father was here inclinable to mercy, but divine Justice
suffered not the offender to go unpunished.
'The heart of the czar is in the hands of God; let him take that side to
which it shall please the Almighty to direct him.'
This opinion was signed by eight archbishops and bishops, four
archpriests, and two professors of divinity; and, as we have already
observed, the metropolitan archbishop of Rezan, the same with whom the
prince had held a correspondence, was the first who signed.
As soon as the clergy had signed this opinion, they presented it to the
czar. It is easy to perceive that this body was desirous of inclining
his mind to clemency; and nothing can be more beautiful than the
contrast between the mercy of Jesus Christ, and the rigour of the Jewish
law, placed before the eyes of a father, who was the prosecutor of his
own son.
The same day the czarowitz was again examined for the last time, and
signed his final confession in writing, wherein he acknowledges himself
'to have been a bigot in his youthful days, to have frequented the
company of priests and monks, to have drank with them, and to have
imbibed from their conversations the first impressions of dislike to the
duties of his station, and even to the person of his father.'
If he made this confession of his own accord, it shews that he must have
been ignorant of the mild advice the body of clergy, whom he thus
accuses, had lately given his father; and it is a still stronger proof,
how great a change the czar had wrought in the manners of the clergy of
his time, who, from a state of the most deplorable ignorance, were in so
short a time become capable of drawing up a writing, which for its
wisdom and eloquence might have been owned, without a blush, by the most
illustrious fathers of the church.
It is in this last confession that the czarowitz made that declaration
on which we have already commented, viz. that he endeavoured to secure
to himself the succession by any means whatever, except such as were
just.
One would imagine, by this last confession, that the prince was
apprehensive he had not rendered himself sufficiently criminal in the
eyes of his judges, by his former self-accusations, and that, by giving
himself the character of a dissembler and a bad man, and supposing how
he might have acted had he been the master, he was carefully studying
how to justify the fatal sentence which was about to be pronounced
against him, and which was done on the 5th of July. This sentence will
be found, at length, at the end of this volume; therefore, we shall only
observe in this place that it begins, like the opinion of the clergy, by
declaring, that 'it belongs not to subjects to take cognizance of such
an affair, which depends solely on the absolute will of the sovereign,
whose authority is derived from God alone;' and then, after having set
forth the several articles of the charge brought against the prince, the
judges express themselves thus: 'What shall we think of a rebellious
design, almost unparalleled in history, joined to that of a horrid
parricide against him, who was his father in a double capacity?'
Probably these words have been wrong translated from the trial printed
by order of the czar; for certainly there have been instances in history
of much greater rebellions; and no part of the proceedings against the
czarowitz discover any design in him of killing his father. Perhaps, by
the word parricide, is understood the deposition made by the prince,
that one day he declared at confession, that he had wished for the death
of his father. But, how can a private declaration of a secret thought,
under the seal of confession, be a double parricide?
Be this as it may, the czarowitz was unanimously condemned to die, but
no mention was made in the sentence of the manner in which he was to
suffer. Of one hundred and forty-four judges, there was not one who
thought of a lesser punishment than death. Whereas, an English tract,
which made a great noise at that time, observes, that if such a cause
had been brought before an English parliament, there would not have been
one judge out of one hundred and forty-four, that would have inflicted
even a penalty.
There cannot be a stronger proof of the difference of times and places.
The consul Manlius would have been condemned by the laws of England to
lose his own life, for having put his son to death; whereas he was
admired and extolled for that action by the rigid Romans: but the same
laws would not punish a prince of Wales for leaving the kingdom, who, as
a peer of the realm, has a right to go and come when he pleases.[107] A
criminal design, not perpetrated, is not punishable by the laws in
England[108] or France, but it is in Russia. A continued formal and
repeated disobedience of commands would, amongst us, be considered only
an error in conduct, which ought to be suppressed; but, in Russia, it
was judged a capital crime in the heir of a great empire, whose ruin
might have been the consequence of that disobedience. Lastly, the
czarowitz was culpable towards the whole nation, by his design of
throwing it back into that state of darkness and ignorance, from which
his father had so lately delivered it.
Such was the acknowledged power of the czar, that he might put his son
to death for disobedience to him, without consulting any one;
nevertheless, he submitted the affair to the judgment of the
representatives of the nation, so that it was in fact the nation itself
who passed sentence on the prince; and Peter was so well satisfied with
the equity of his own conduct, that he voluntarily submitted it to the
judgment of every other nation, by causing the whole proceedings to be
printed and translated into several languages.
The law of history would not permit us to disguise or palliate aught in
the relation of this tragic event. All Europe was divided in its
sentiments, whether most to pity a young prince, prosecuted by his own
father, and condemned to lose his life, by those who were one day to
have been his subjects; or the father, who thought himself under a
necessity to sacrifice his own son to the welfare of his nation.
It was asserted in several books, published on this subject, that the
czar sent to Spain for a copy of the proceedings against Don Carlos, who
had been condemned to death by his father, king Philip II. But this is
false, inasmuch as Don Carlos was never brought to his trial: the
conduct of Peter I. was totally different from that of Philip. The
Spanish monarch never made known to the world the reasons for which he
had confined his son, nor in what manner that prince died. He wrote
letters on this occasion to the pope and the empress, which were
absolutely contradictory to each other. William prince of Orange accused
Philip publicly of having sacrificed his son and his wife to his
jealousy, and to have behaved rather like a jealous and cruel husband,
and an unnatural and murderous father, than a severe and upright judge.
Philip suffered this accusation against him to pass unanswered: Peter,
on the contrary, did nothing but in the eye of the world; he openly
declared, that he preferred his people to his own son, submitted his
cause to the judgment of the principal persons of his kingdom, and made
the whole world the judge of their proceedings and his own.
There was another extraordinary circumstance attending this unhappy
affair, which was, that the empress Catherine, who was hated by the
czarowitz, and whom he had publicly threatened with the worst of
treatment, whenever he should mount the throne, was not in any way
accessary to his misfortunes; and was neither accused, nor even
suspected by any foreign minister residing at the court of Russia, of
having taken the least step against a son-in-law, from whom she had so
much to fear. It is true, indeed, that no one pretends to say she
interceded with the czar for his pardon: but all the accounts of these
times, and especially those of the count de Bassewitz, agree, that she
was greatly affected with his misfortunes.
I have now before me the memoirs of a public minister, in which I find
the following words: 'I was present when the czar told the duke of
Holstein, that the czarina Catherine, had begged of him to prevent the
sentence passed upon the czarowitz, being publicly read to that prince.
'Content yourself,' said she, 'with obliging him to turn monk; for this
public and formal condemnation of your son will reflect an odium on your
grandson.'
The czar, however, would not hearken to the intercession of his spouse;
he thought there was a necessity to have the sentence publicly read to
the prince himself, in order that he might have no pretence left to
dispute this solemn act, in which he himself acquiesced, and that being
dead in law, he could never after claim a right to the crown.
Nevertheless, if, after the death of Peter, a formidable party had arose
in favour of Alexis, would his being dead in law have prevented him from
ascending the throne?
The prince then had his sentence read to him: and the memoirs I have
just mentioned observe, that he fell into a fit on hearing these words:
'The laws divine and ecclesiastical, civil and military, condemn to
death, without mercy, those whose attempts against their father and
their sovereign have been fully proved.' These fits it is said, turned
to an apoplexy, and it was with great difficulty he was recovered at
that time. Afterwards, when he came a little to himself, and in the
dreadful interval, between life and death, he sent for his father to
come to him: the czar accordingly went, and both father and son burst
into a flood of tears. The unhappy culprit asked his offended parent's
forgiveness, which he gave him publicly: then, being in the agonies of
death, extreme unction was administered to him in the most solemn
manner, and soon after he expired in the presence of the whole court,
the day after the fatal sentence had been pronounced upon him. His body
was immediately carried to the cathedral, where it lay in state, exposed
to public view for four days, after which it was interred in the church
of the citadel, by the side of his late princess; the czar and czarina
assisting at the funeral.
And here I think myself indispensably obliged to imitate, in some
measure, the conduct of the czar; that is to say, to submit to the
judgment of the public, the several facts which I have related with the
most scrupulous exactness, and not only the facts themselves, but
likewise the various reports which were propagated in relation to them,
by authors of the first credit. Lamberti, the most impartial of any
writer on this subject and at the same time the most exact, and who has
confined himself to the simple narrative of the original and authentic
pieces, relating to the affairs of Europe, seems in this matter to have
departed from that impartiality and discernment for which he is so
remarkable; for he thus expresses himself.
'The czarina, ever anxious for the fortune of her own son, did not
suffer the czar to rest till she had obliged him to commence the
proceedings against the czarowitz, and to prosecute that unhappy prince
to death: and, what is still more extraordinary, the czar, after having
given him the knout (which is a kind of torture) with his own hand, was
himself his executioner, by cutting off his head, which was afterwards
so artfully joined to the body, that the separation could not be
perceived, when it was exposed to public view. Some little time
afterwards, the czarina's son died, to the inexpressible regret of her
and the czar. This latter, who had beheaded his own son, coming now to
reflect, that he had no successor, grew exceedingly ill-tempered. Much
about that time also, he was informed, that his spouse, the czarina, was
engaged in a secret and criminal correspondence with prince Menzikoff.
This, joined to the reflection, that she had been the cause of his
putting to death with his own hand his eldest son, made him conceive a
design to strip her of the imperial honours, and shut her up in a
convent, in the same manner as he had done his first wife, who is still
living there. It was a custom with the czar to keep a kind of diary of
his private thoughts in his pocket book, and he had accordingly entered
therein a memorandum of this his intention. The czarina having found
means to gain over to her interest all the pages of the czar's
bed-chamber, one of them finding his pocket-book, which he had
carelessly left on the table, brought it to Catherine, who upon reading
this memorandum, immediately sent for prince Menzikoff, and communicated
it to him, and, in a day or two afterwards, the czar was seized with a
violent distemper, of which he died. This distemper was attributed to
poison, on account of its being so sudden and violent, that it could not
be supposed to proceed from a natural cause, and that the horrible act
of poisoning was but too frequently used in Russia.'
These accusations, thus handed down by Lamberti, were soon spread
throughout Europe; and, as there still exist a great number of pieces,
both in print and manuscript, which may give a sanction to the belief of
this fact to the latest posterity, I think it is my duty to mention, in
this place, what is come to my knowledge from unexceptionable authority.
In the first place, then, I take it upon me to declare, that the person
who furnished Lamberti with this strange anecdote, was in fact a native
of Russia, but of a foreign extraction, and who himself did not reside
in that country, at the time this event happened, having left it several
years before. I was formerly acquainted with him; he had been in company
with Lamberti, at the little town of Nyon,[109] whither that writer had
retired, and where I myself have often been. This very man declared to
me, that he had never told this story to Lamberti, but in the light of a
report, which had been handed about at that time.
This example may suffice to shew, how easy it was in former times,
before the art of printing was found out, for one man to destroy the
reputation of another, in the minds of whole nations, by reason that
manuscript histories were in a few hands only, and not exposed
to general examination and censure, or of the observations of
contemporaries, as they now are. A single line in Tacitus or Sallust,
nay, even in the authors of the most fabulous legends was enough to
render a great prince odious to the half of mankind, and to perpetuate
his name with infamy to successive generations.
How was it possible that the czar could have beheaded his son with his
own hand, when extreme unction was administered to the latter in the
presence of the whole court? Was he dead when the sacred oil was poured
upon his head? When or how could this dissevered head have been rejoined
to its trunk? It is notorious, that the prince was not left alone a
single moment, from the first reading of his sentence to him to the
instant of his death.
Besides, this story of the czar's having had recourse to the sword,
acquits him at least of having made use of poison. I will allow, that it
is somewhat uncommon, that a young man in the vigour of his days should
die of a sudden fright, occasioned by hearing the sentence of his own
death read to him, and especially when it was a sentence that he
expected; but, after all, physicians will tell us that this is not a
thing impossible.
If the czar dispatched his son by poison, as so many authors would
persuade us, he by that means deprived himself of every advantage he
might expect from this fatal process, in convincing all Europe that he
had a right to punish every delinquent. He rendered all the reasons for
pronouncing the condemnation of the czarowitz suspected; and, in fact,
accused himself. If he was desirous of the death of his son, he was in
possession of full power to have caused the sentence to be put in
execution: would a man of any prudence then, would a sovereign, on whom
the eyes of all his neighbours were fixed, have taken the base and
dastardly method of poisoning the person, over whose devoted head he
himself already held the sword of justice? Lastly, would he have
suffered his memory to have been transmitted to posterity as an assassin
and a poisoner, when he could so easily have assumed the character of an
upright though severe judge?
It appears then, from all that has been delivered on this subject in the
preceding pages, that Peter was more the king than the parent; and that
he sacrificed his own son to the sentiments of the father and lawgiver
of his country, and to the interest of his people, who, without this
wholesome severity, were on the verge of relapsing again into that state
from which he had taken them. It is evident that he did not sacrifice
this son to the ambition of a step-mother, or to the son he had by her,
since he had often threatened the czarowitz to disinherit him, before
Catherine brought him that other son, whose infirm infancy gave signs of
a speedy death, which actually happened in a very short time afterwards.
Had Peter taken this important step merely to please his wife, he must
have been a fool, a madman, or a coward; neither of which, most
certainly, could be laid to his charge. But he foresaw what would be the
fate of his establishments, and of his new-born nation, if he had such a
successor as would not adopt his views. The event has verified this
foresight: the Russian empire is become famous and respectable
throughout Europe, from which it was before entirely separated; whereas,
had the czarowitz succeeded to the throne, every thing would have been
destroyed. In fine, when this catastrophe comes to be seriously
considered, the compassionate heart shudders, and the rigid applauds.
This great and terrible event is still fresh in the memories of mankind;
and it is frequently spoken of as a matter of so much surprise, that it
is absolutely necessary to examine what contemporary writers have said
of it. One of these hireling scribblers, who has taken on him the title
of historian, speaks thus of it in a work which he has dedicated to
count Bruhl, prime minister to his Polish majesty, whose name indeed may
seem to give some weight to what he advances. 'Russia was convinced that
the czarowitz owed his death to poison, which had been given him by his
mother-in-law.' But this accusation is overturned by the declaration
which the czar made to the duke of Holstein, that the empress Catherine
had advised him to confine his son in a monastery.
With regard to the poison which the empress is said to have given
afterwards to her husband, that story is sufficiently destroyed by the
simple relation of the affair of the page and pocket-book. What man
would think of making such a memorandum as this, 'I must remember to
confine my wife in a convent?' Is this a circumstance of so trivial a
nature, that it must be set down lest it should be forgotten? If
Catherine had poisoned her son-in-law and her husband she would have
committed crimes; whereas, so far from being suspected of cruelty, she
had a remarkable character for lenity and sweetness of temper.
It may now be proper to shew what was the first cause of the behaviour
of the czarowitz, of his flight, and of his death, and that of his
accomplices, who fell by the hands of the executioner. It was owing then
to mistaken notions in religion, and to a superstitious fondness for
priests and monks. That this was the real source from whence all his
misfortunes were derived, is sufficiently apparent from his own
confession, which we have already set before the reader, and in
particular, by that expression of the czar in his letter to his unhappy
son, 'A corrupt priesthood will be able to turn you at pleasure.'
The following is, almost word for word, the manner in which a certain
ambassador to the court of Russia explains these words.--Several
ecclesiastics, says he, fond of the ancient barbarous customs, and
regretting the authority they had lost by the nation having become more
civilized, wished earnestly to see prince Alexis on the throne, from
whose known disposition they expected a return of those days of
ignorance and superstition which were so dear to them. In the number of
these was Dozitheus, bishop of Rostow. This prelate feigned a revelation
from St. Demetrius, and that the saint had appeared to him, and had
assured him as from God himself, that the czar would not live above
three months; that the empress Eudocia, who was then confined in the
convent of Susdal (and had taken the veil under the name of sister
Helena), and the princess Mary the czar's sister, should ascend the
throne and reign jointly with prince Alexis. Eudocia and the princess
Mary were weak enough to credit this imposture, and were even so
persuaded of the truth of this prediction, that the former quitted her
habit and the convent, and throwing aside the name of sister Helena,
reassumed the imperial title and the ancient dress of the czarina's,
and caused the name of her rival Catherine to be struck out of the form
of prayer. And when the lady abbess of the convent opposed these
proceedings, Eudocia answered her haughtily--That as Peter had punished
the strelitzes who had insulted his mother, in like manner would prince
Alexis punish those who had offered an indignity to his. She caused the
abbess to be confined to her apartment. An officer named Stephen Glebo
was introduced into the convent; this man Eudocia made use of as the
instrument of her designs, having previously won him over to her
interest by heaping favours on him. Glebo caused Dozitheus's prediction
to be spread over the little town of Susdal, and the neighbourhood
thereof. But the three months being nearly expired, Eudocia reproached
the bishop with the czar's being still alive, 'My father's sins,'
answered Dozitheus, 'have been the cause of this; he is still in
purgatory, and has acquainted me therewith.' Upon this Eudocia caused a
thousand masses for the dead to be said, Dozitheus assuring her that
this would not fail of having the desired effect: but in about a month
afterwards, he came to her and told, that his father's head was already
out of purgatory; in a month afterwards he was freed as far as his
waist, so that then he only stuck in purgatory by his feet; but as soon
as they should be set free, which was the most difficult part of the
business, the czar would infallibly die.
The princess Mary, persuaded by Dozitheus, gave herself up to him, on
condition that his father should be immediately released from purgatory,
and the prediction accomplished, and Glebo continued his usual
correspondence with the old czarina.
It was chiefly on the faith of these predictions that the czarowitz
quitted the kingdom, and retired into a foreign country, to wait for the
death of his father. However the whole scheme was soon discovered;
Dozitheus and Glebo were seized; the letters of the princess Mary to
Dozitheus, and those of sister Helena to Glebo, were read in the open
senate. In consequence of which, the princess Mary was shut up in the
fortress of Schusselbourg, and the old czarina removed to another
convent, where she was kept a close prisoner. Dozitheus and Glebo,
together with the other accomplices of these idle and superstitious
intrigues, were put to the torture, as were likewise the confidants of
the czarowitz's flight. His confessor, his preceptor, and the steward of
his household, all died by the hands of the executioner.
Such then was the dear and fatal price at which Peter the Great
purchased the happiness of his people, and such were the numberless
obstacles he had to surmount in the midst of a long and dangerous war
without doors, and an unnatural rebellion at home. He saw one half of
his family plotting against him, the majority of the priesthood
obstinately bent to frustrate his designs, and almost the whole nation
for a long time opposing its own felicity, of which as yet it was not
become sensible. He had prejudices to overcome, and discontents to
sooth. In a word, there wanted a new generation formed by his care, who
would at length entertain the proper ideas of happiness and glory, which
their fathers were not able to comprehend or support.