into a long gallery, along which had been built a range of closets. In
each of these a cardinal was shut up, abundantly provided with food and
drink. To each of the cardinals two conclavists were attached, whose
duty it was to ply them with brandy, carry insulting messages from one
to another, and induce them, as they grew tipsy, to bawl out all sorts
of abuse of one another. To all this ribaldry the czar listened with
delight, taking note at the same time of anything said of which he might
make future use against the participants.
This orgy lasted three days and three nights, the cardinals not being
released until they had agreed upon answers to a number of ridiculous
questions propounded to them by the Kniaz Papa. Then the doors were
flung open, and the pope and his cardinals were drawn home at mid-day
dead drunk on sledges,--that is, such of them as survived, for some had
actually drunk themselves to death, while others never recovered from
the effect of their debauch.
This offensive absurdity appealed so strongly to the czar's idea of
humor that he had it three times repeated, it growing more gross and
shameless on each successive occasion; and during the last conclave
Peter indulged in such excesses that his death was hastened by their
effects.
As for the national church of Russia, Peter treated it with contemptuous
indifference. The office of patriarch becoming vacant, he left it
unfilled for twenty-one years, and finally, on being implored by a
delegation from the clergy to appoint a patriarch, he started up in a
furious passion, struck his breast with his fist and the table with his
cutlass, and roared out, "Here, here is your patriarch!" He then stamped
angrily from the room, leaving the prelates in a state of utter dismay.
Soon after he took occasion to make the church the subject of a second
coarse jest. Another buffoon of the court, Buturlin by name, was
appointed Kniaz Papa, and a marriage arranged between him and the widow
of Sotof, his predecessor. The bridegroom was eighty-four years of age,
the bride nearly as old. Some decrepit old men were chosen to play the
part of bridesmaids, four stutterers invited the wedding guests, while
four of the most corpulent fellows who could be found attended the
procession as running footmen. A sledge drawn by bears held the
orchestra, their music being accompanied with roars from the animals,
which were goaded with iron spikes. The nuptial benediction was given in
the cathedral by a blind and deaf priest, who wore huge spectacles. The
marriage, the wedding feast, and the remaining ceremonies were all
conducted in the same spirit of broad burlesque, in which one of the
sacred ceremonies of the Russian Church was grossly paraphrased.
Peter did not confine himself to coarse jests in his efforts to
discredit the clergy. He took every occasion to unmask the trickery of
the priests. Petersburg, the new city he was building, was an object of
abhorrence to these superstitious worthies, who denounced it as one of
the gates of hell, prophesying that it would be overthrown by the wrath
of heaven, and fixing the date on which this was to occur. So great was
the fear inspired by their prophecies that work was suspended in spite
of the orders of the terrible czar.
To impress the people with the imminency of the peril, the priests
displayed a sacred image from whose eyes flowed miraculous tears. It
seemed to weep over the coming fate of the dwellers within the doomed
city.
"Its hour is at hand," said the priests; "it will soon be swallowed up,
with all its inhabitants, by a tremendous inundation."
When word of this seeming miracle and of the consternation which it had
produced was brought to the czar, he hastened with his usual impetuosity
to the spot, bent on exposing the dangerous fraud which his enemies were
perpetrating. He found the weeping image surrounded by a multitude of
superstitious citizens, who gazed with open-eyed wonder and reverence on
the miraculous feat.
Their horror was intense when Peter boldly approached and examined the
image. Petrified with terror, they looked to see him stricken dead by a
bolt from heaven. But their feelings changed when the czar, breaking
open the head of the image, explained to them the ingenious trick which
the priests had devised. The head was found to contain a reservoir of
congealed oil, which, as it was melted by the heat of lighted tapers
beneath, flowed out drop by drop through artfully provided holes, and
ran from the eyes like tears. On seeing this the dismay of the people
turned to anger against the priests, and the building of the city went
on.
The court fool was an institution born in barbarism, though it survived
long into the age of civilization, having its latest survival in Russia,
the last European state to emerge from barbarism. In the days of Peter
the Great the fool was a fixed institution in Russia, though this
element of court life had long vanished from Western Europe. In truth,
the buffoon flourished in Russia like a green bay-tree. Peter was never
satisfied with less than a dozen of these fun-making worthies, and a
private family which could not afford at least one hired fool was
thought to be in very straitened circumstances.
In the reign of the empress Anne the number of court buffoons was
reduced to six, but three of the six were men of the highest birth. They
had been degraded to this office for some fault, and if they refused to
perform such fooleries as the queen and her courtiers desired they were
whipped with rods.
Among those who suffered this indignity was no less a grandee than
Prince Galitzin. He had changed his religion, and for this offence he
was made court page, though he was over forty years of age, and buffoon,
though his son was a lieutenant in the army, and his family one of the
first in the realm. His name is here given in particular as he was made
the subject of a cruel jest, which could have been perpetrated nowhere
but in the Russian court at that period.
The winter of 1740, in which this event took place, was of unusual
severity. Prince Galitzin's wife having died, the empress forced him to
marry a girl of the lowest birth, agreeing to defray the cost of the
wedding, which proved to be by no means small.
As a preliminary a house was built wholly of ice, and all its furniture,
tables, seats, ornaments, and even the nuptial bedstead, were made of
the same frigid material. In front of the house were placed four cannons
and two mortars of ice, so solid in construction that they were fired
several times without bursting. To make up the wedding procession
persons of all the nations subject to Russia, and of both sexes, were
brought from the several provinces, dressed in their national costumes.
The procession was an extraordinary one. The new-married couple rode on
the back of an elephant, in a huge cage. Of those that followed some
were mounted on camels, some rode in sledges drawn by various beasts,
such as reindeer, oxen, dogs, goats, and hogs. The train, which all
Moscow turned out to witness, embraced more than three hundred persons,
and made its way past the palace of the empress and through all the
principal streets of the city.
The wedding dinner was given in Biren's riding-house, which was
appropriately decorated, and in which each group of the guests were
supplied with food cooked after the manner of their own country. A ball
followed, in which the people of each nation danced their national
dances to their national music. The pith of the joke, in the Russian
appreciation of that day, came at the end, the bride and groom being
conducted to a bed of ice in an icy palace, in which they were forced to
spend the night, guards being stationed at the door to prevent their
getting out before morning.
Though not so gross as Peter's nuptial jests, this was more cruel, and,
in view of the social station of the groom, a far greater indignity.
A Russian state dinner during the reign of Peter the Great, as described
by Dr. Birch, speaking from personal observation, was one in which only
those of the strongest stomach could safely take part. On such
occasions, indeed, the experienced ate their dinners beforehand at
home, knowing well what to expect at the czar's table. Ceremony was
absolutely lacking, and, as two or three hundred persons were usually
invited to a feast set for a hundred, a most undignified scuffling for
seats took place, each holder of a chair being forced to struggle with
those who sought to snatch it from him. In this turmoil distinguished
foreigners had to fight like the natives for their seats.
Finally they took their places without regard to dignity or station.
"Carpenters and shipwrights sit next to the czar; but senators,
ministers, generals, priests, sailors, buffoons of all kinds, sit
pell-mell, without any distinction." And they were crowded so closely
that it was with great difficulty they could lift their hands to their
mouths. As for foreigners, if they happened to sit between Russians,
they were little likely to have any appetite to eat. All this Peter
encouraged, on the plea that ceremony would produce uneasiness and
stiffness.
There was usually but one napkin for two or three guests, which they
fought for as they had for seats; while each person had but one plate
during dinner, "so if some Russian does not care to mix the sauces of
the different dishes together, he pours the soup that is left in his
plate either into the dish or into his neighbor's plate, or even under
the table, after which he licks his plate clean with his finger, and,
last of all, wipes it with the table-cloth."
Liquids seem to have played as important a part as solids at these
meals, each guest being obliged to begin with a cup of brandy, after
which great glasses of wine were served, "and betweenwhiles a bumper of
the strongest English beer, by which mixture of liquors every one of the
guests is fuddled before the soup is served up." And this was not
confined to the men, the women being obliged to take their share in the
liberal potations. As for the music that played in the adjoining room,
it was utterly drowned in the noise around the table, the uproar being
occasionally increased by a fighting-bout between two drunken guests,
which the czar, instead of stopping, witnessed with glee.
We may close with a final quotation from Dr. Birch. "At great
entertainments it frequently happens that nobody is allowed to go out of
the room from noon till midnight; hence it is easy to imagine what
pickle a room must be in that is full of people who drink like beasts,
and none of whom escape being dead drunk.
"They often tie eight or ten young mice in a string, and hide them under
green peas, or in such soups as the Russians have the greatest appetites
to, which sets them a kicking and vomiting in a most beastly manner when
they come to the bottom and discover the trick. They often bake cats,
wolves, ravens, and the like in their pastries, and when the company
have eaten them up, they tell them what they have in their stomachs.
"The present butler is one of the czar's buffoons, to whom he has given
the name of _Wiaschi_, with this privilege, that if any one calls him by
that name he has leave to drub him with his wooden sword. If, therefore,
anybody, by the czar's setting them on, calls out _Wiaschi_, as the
fellow does not know exactly who it is, he falls to beating them all
around, beginning with prince Mentchikof and ending with the last of the
company, without excepting even the ladies, whom he strips of their head
clothes, as he does the old Russians of their wigs, which he tramples
upon, on which occasion it is pleasant enough to see the variety of
their bald pates."
On reading this account of a Russian court entertainment two centuries
ago, we cannot wonder that after the visit of Peter the Great and his
suite to London it was suggested that the easiest way to cleanse the
palace in which they had been entertained might be to set it on fire and
burn it to the ground.
_HOW A WOMAN DETHRONED A MAN._
We have told how one Catharine, of lowly birth and the captive of a
warlike raid, rose to be Empress of Russia. We have now to tell how a
second of the same name rose to the same dignity. This one was indeed a
princess by descent, her birthplace being a little German town. But if
she began upon a higher level than the former Catharine, she reached a
higher level still, this insignificant German princess becoming known in
history as Catharine the Great, and having the high distinction of being
the only woman to whose name the title Great has ever been attached. We
may here say, however, that many women have lived to whom it might have
been more properly applied.
In 1744 this daughter of one of the innumerable German kinglings became
Grand Duchess of Russia, through marriage with Peter, the coming heir to
the throne. We may here step from the beaten track of our story to say
that Russia, at this period of its history, was ruled over by a number
of empresses, though at no other time have women occupied its throne.
The line began with Sophia, sister of Peter the Great, who reigned for
some years as virtual empress. Catharine, the wife of Peter, became
actual empress, and was followed, with insignificant intervals of male
rulers, by Anne, Elizabeth, and Catharine the Great. These male rulers
were Peter II., whose reign was brief, Ivan, an infant, and Peter III.,
husband of Catharine, who succeeded Elizabeth in 1762. It is with the
last named that we are concerned.
Peter III., though grandson of Peter the Great, was as weak a man as
ever sat on a throne; Catharine a woman of unusual energy. For years of
their married life these two had been enemies. Peter had the misfortune
to have been born a fool, and folly on the throne is apt to make a sorry
show. He had, besides, become a drunkard and profligate. The one good
point about him, in the estimation of many, was his admiration for
Frederick the Great, since he came to the throne of Russia at the crisis
of Frederick's career, and saved him from utter ruin by withdrawing the
Russian army from his opponents.
His folly soon raised up against him two powerful enemies. One of these
was the army, which did not object, after fighting with the Austrians
against the Prussians, to turn and fight with the Prussians against the
Austrians, but did object to the Prussian dress and discipline, which
Peter insisted upon introducing. It possessed a discipline of its own,
which it preferred to keep, and bitterly disliked its change of dress.
The czar even spoke of suppressing the Guards, as his grandfather had
suppressed the corps of the Strelitz. This was a fatal offence. It made
this strong force his enemy, while he was utterly lacking in the
resolution with which Peter the Great had handled rebels in arms.
The other enemy was Catharine, whom he had deserted for an unworthy
favorite. But her enmity was quiet, and might have remained so had he
not added insult to injury. Heated by drink, he called her a "fool" at a
public dinner before four hundred people, including the greatest
dignitaries of the realm and the foreign ministers. He was not satisfied
with an insult, but added to it the folly of a threat, that of an order
for her arrest. This he withdrew,--a worse fault, under the
circumstances, than to have made it. He had taught Catharine that her
only safety lay in action, if she would not be removed from the throne
in favor of the worthless creature who had supplanted her in her
husband's esteem.
Events moved rapidly. It was on the 21st of June, 1762, that the insult
was given and the threat made. Within a month the czar was dead and his
wife reigned in his stead. On the 24th Peter left St. Petersburg for
Oranienbaum, his summer residence. He did not propose to remain there
long. He had it in view to join his army and defeat the Danes, his
present foes, with the less defined intention of gaining glory on some
great battle-field at the side of his victorious ally Frederick the
Great. The fleet with which Denmark was to be invaded was not ready to
sail, many of the crew being sick; but this little difficulty did not
deter the czar. He issued an imperial ukase ordering the sick sailors to
get well.
On going to his summer residence Peter had imprudently left Catharine at
St. Petersburg, taking his mistress in her stead. On the 29th his wife
received orders from him to go to Peterhof. Thither he meant to proceed
before setting out on his campaign. His feast-day came on the 10th of
July. On the morning of the 9th he set out with a large train of
followers for the palace of Peterhof, where the next day Catharine was
to give a grand dinner in his honor.
It was two o'clock in the afternoon when Peterhof was reached. To the
utter surprise of the czar, there were none but servants to meet him,
and they in a state of mortal terror.
"Where is the empress?" he demanded.
"Gone."
"Where?"
No one could tell him. She had simply gone,--where and why he was soon
to learn. As he waited and fumed, a peasant approached and handed him a
letter, which proved to be from Bressau, his former French valet. It
contained the astounding information that the empress had arrived in St.
Petersburg that morning and had been proclaimed _sole and absolute
sovereign of Russia_.
The tale was beyond his powers of belief. Like a madman he rushed
through the empty rooms, making them resound with vociferous demands for
his wife; looked in every corner and cupboard; rushed wildly through the
gardens, calling for Catharine again and again; while the crowd of
frightened courtiers followed in his steps. It was in vain; no voice
came in answer to his demand, no Catharine was to be found.
The story of what had actually happened is none too well known. It has
been told in more shapes than one. What we know is that there was a
conspiracy to place Catharine on the throne, that the leaders of the
troops had been tampered with, and that one of the conspirators, Captain
Passek, had just been arrested by order of the czar. It was this arrest
that precipitated the revolution. Fearing that all was discovered, the
plotters took the only available means to save themselves.
The arrest of Passek had nothing to do with the conspiracy. It was for
quite another cause. But it proved to be an accident with great results,
since the Orlofs, who were deep in the conspiracy, thought that their
lives were in danger, and that safety lay only in prompt action. As a
result, at five A.M.. on July 9, Alexis Orlof suddenly appeared at
Peterhof, and demanded to see the empress at once.
Catharine was fast asleep when the young officer hastily entered her
room. He lost no time in waking her. She gazed on him with surprise and
alarm.
"It is time to get up," he said, in as calm a tone as if he had been
announcing that breakfast was waiting. "Everything is ready for your
proclamation."
"What do you mean?" she demanded.
"Passek is arrested. You must come," he said, in the same tone.
This was enough. A long perspective of peril lay behind those words. The
empress arose, dressed in all haste, and sprang into the coach beside
which Orlof awaited her. One of her women entered with her, Orlof seated
himself in front, a groom sprang up behind, and off they set, at
headlong speed, for St. Petersburg.
The distance was nearly twenty miles, and the horses, which had already
covered that distance, were in very poor condition for doubling it
without rest. In his haste Orlof had not thought of ordering a relay.
His carelessness might have cost them dear, since it was of vital moment
to reach the city without delay. Fortunately, they met a peasant, and
borrowed two horses from his cart. Those two horses perhaps won the
throne for Catharine.
[Illustration: A RUSSIAN DROSKY.]
Five miles from the city they met two others of the conspirators,
devoured with anxiety. Changing to the new coach, the party drove in at
breakneck pace, and halted before the barracks of the Ismailofsky
regiment, with which the conspirators had been at work.
It was between six and seven o'clock in the morning. Only a dozen men
were at the barracks. Nothing had been prepared. Excitement or terror
had turned all heads. Yet now no time was lost. Drummers were roused and
drums beaten. Out came soldiers in haste, half dressed and half asleep.
"Shout 'Long live the empress!'" demanded the visitors.
Without hesitation the guardsmen obeyed, their only thought at the
moment being that of a free flow of _vodka_, the Russian drink. A priest
was quickly brought, who, like the soldiers, was prepared to do as he
was told. Raising the cross, he hastily offered them a form of oath, to
which the soldiers subscribed. The first step was taken; the empress was
proclaimed.
The proclamation declared Catharine sole and absolute sovereign. It made
no mention of her little son Paul, as some of the leaders in the
conspiracy had proposed. The Orlofs controlled the situation, and the
action of the Ismailofsky was soon sanctioned by other regiments of the
guard. They hated the czar and were ripe for revolt.
One regiment only, the Preobrajensky, that of which the czar himself was
colonel, resisted. It was led against the other troops under the command
of a captain and a major. The hostile bodies came face to face a few
paces apart; the queen's party greatest in number, but in disorder, the
czar's party drawn up with military skill. A moment, a word, might
precipitate a bloody conflict.
Suddenly a man in the ranks cried out, "_Oura!_ Long live the empress!"
In an instant the whole regiment echoed the cry, the ranks were broken,
the soldiers embraced their comrades in the other ranks, and, falling on
their knees, begged pardon of the empress for their delay.
And now the throng turned towards the neighboring church of Our Lady of
Kasan, in which Catharine was to receive their oaths of fidelity. A
crowd pushed in to do homage, composed not only of soldiers, but of
members of the senate and the synod. A manifesto was quickly drawn up by
a clerk named Tieplof, printed in all haste, and distributed to the
people, who read it and joined heartily in the cry of "Long live the
empress!"
Catharine next reviewed the troops, who again hailed her with shouts.
And thus it was that a czar was dethroned and a new reign begun without
the loss of a drop of blood. There was some little disorder. Several
wine-shops were broken into, the house of Prince George of Holstein was
pillaged and he and his wife were roughly handled, but that was all: as
yet it had been one of the simplest of revolutions.
Catharine was empress, but how long would she remain so? Her empire
consisted of the fickle people of St. Petersburg, her army of four
regiments of the guards. If Peter had the courage to strike for his
throne, he might readily regain it. He had with him about fifteen
hundred Holsteiners, an excellent body of troops, on whose loyalty he
could fully rely, for they were foreigners in Russia, and their safety
depended on him. At the head of these troops was one of the first
soldiers of the age, Field-Marshal Muenich. The main Russian army was in
Pomerania, under the orders of the czar, if he were alert in giving
them. He had it in view to annihilate the Danes, to show himself a hero
under Frederick of Prussia; surely a handful of conspirators and a few
regiments of malcontents would have but a shallow chance.
Yet Catharine knew the man with whom she dealt. The grain of courage
which would have saved Peter was not to be found in his make-up, and
Muenich strove in vain to induce him to act with manly resolution. A
dozen fancies passed through his mind in an hour. He drew up manifestoes
for a paper campaign. He sent to Oranienbaum for the Holstein troops,
intending to fortify Peterhof, but changed his mind before they arrived.
Muenich now advised him to go to Cronstadt and secure himself in that
stronghold. After some hesitation he agreed, but night had fallen
before the whole party, male and female, set off in a yacht and galley,
as if on a pleasure-trip. It was one o'clock in the morning when they
arrived in sight of the fortress.
"Who goes there?" hailed a sentinel from the ramparts.
"The emperor."
"There is no emperor. Keep off!"
Delay had given Catharine ample time to get ahead of him.
"Do not heed the sentry," cried Muenich. "They will not dare to fire on
you. Land, and all will be safe."
But Peter was below deck, in a panic of fear. The women were shrieking
in terror. Despite Muenich, the vessels were put about. Then the old
soldier, half in despair at this poltroonery, proposed another plan.