IVAN IV.--HIS MINORITY.
From 1533 to 1546.
Vassili At the Chase.--Attention To Distinguished Foreigners.--The
Autocracy.--Splendor of the Edifices.--Slavery.--Aristocracy.--Infancy
of Ivan IV.--Regency of Hélène.--Conspiracies and Tumults.--War with
Sigismond of Poland.--Death of Hélène.--Struggles of the
Nobles.--Appalling Sufferings of Dmitri.--Incursion of the
Tartars.--Successful Conspiracy.--Ivan IV. At the Chase.--Coronation
of Ivan IV.
Under Vassili, the Russian court attained a degree of splendor which
had before been unknown. The Baron of Herberstein thus describes the
appearance of the monarch when engaging in the pleasures of the chase:
"As soon as we saw the monarch entering the field, we dismounted and
advanced to meet him on foot. He was mounted upon a magnificent
charger, gorgeously caparisoned. He wore upon his head a tall cap,
embroidered with precious stones, and surmounted by gilded plumes
which waved in the wind. A poignard and two knives were attached to
his girdle. He had upon his right, Aley, tzar of Kazan, armed with a
bow and arrows; at his left, two young princes, one of whom held an
ax, and the other a number of arms. His suite consisted of more than
three hundred cavaliers."
The chase was continued, over the boundless plains, for many days and
often weeks. When night approached, the whole party, often consisting
of thousands, dismounted and reared their village of tents. The tent
of the emperor was ample, gorgeous, and furnished with all the
appliances of luxury. Hounds were first introduced into these sports
in Russia by Vassili. The evening hours were passed in festivity,
with abundance of good cheer, and in narrating the adventures of the
day.
Whenever the emperor appeared in public, he was preceded by esquires
chosen from among the young nobles distinguished for their beauty, the
delicacy of their features and the perfect proportion of their forms.
Clothed in robes of white satin and armed with small hatchets of
silver, they marched before the emperor, and appeared to strangers,
say his cotemporaries, "like angels descended from the skies."
Vassili was especially fond of magnificence in the audiences which he
gave to foreign embassadors. To impress them with an idea of the vast
population and wealth of Russia, and of the glory and power of the
sovereign, Vassili ordered, on the day of presentation, that all the
ordinary avocations of life should cease, and the citizens, clothed in
their richest dresses, were to crowd around the walls of the Kremlin.
All the young nobles in the vicinity, with their retinues, were
summoned. The troops were under arms, and the most distinguished
officers, glittering in the panoply of war, rode to meet the
envoys.[7] In the hall of audience, crowded to its utmost capacity,
there was silence, as of the grave. The king sat upon his throne, his
bonnet upon one side of him, his scepter upon the other. His nobles
were seated around upon couches draped in purple and embroidered with
pearls and gold.
[Footnote 7: Francis da Callo relates that when he was received by the
emperor, forty thousand soldiers were under arms, in the richest
uniform, extending from the Kremlin to the hotel of the embassadors.]
Following the example of Ivan III., Vassili was unwearied in his
endeavors to induce foreigners of distinction, particularly artists,
physicians and men of science, to take up their residence in Russia.
Any stranger, distinguished for genius or capability of any kind, who
entered Russia, found it not easy to leave the kingdom. A Greek
physician, of much celebrity, from Constantinople, visited Moscow.
Vassili could not find it in his heart to relinquish so rich a prize,
and detained him with golden bonds, which the unhappy man, mourning
for his wife and children, in vain endeavored to break away. At last
the sultan was influenced to write in behalf of the Greek.
"Permit," he wrote, "Marc to return to Constantinople to rejoin his
family. He went to Russia only for a temporary visit."
The emperor replied:
"For a long time Marc has served me to his and my perfect
satisfaction. He is now my lieutenant at Novgorod. Send to him his
wife and children."
The power of the sovereign was absolute. His will was the supreme law.
The lives, the fortunes of the clergy, the laity, the lords, the
citizens were dependent upon his pleasure. The Russians regarded their
monarch as the executor of the divine will. Their ordinary language
was, _God and the prince decree it_. The Russians generally defend
this _autocracy_ as the only true principle of government. The
philosophic Karamsin writes:
"Ivan III. and Vassili knew how to establish permanently the nature of
one government by constituting in _autocracy_ the necessary attribute
of empire, its sole constitution, and the only basis of safety, force
and prosperity. This limitless power of the prince is regarded as
_tyranny_ in the eye of strangers, because, in their inconsiderate
judgment, they forget that _tyranny_ is the abuse of autocracy, and
that the same tyranny may exist in a republic when citizens or
powerful magistrates oppress society. Autocracy does not signify the
absence of laws, since law is everywhere where there is any duty to be
performed, and the first duty of princes, is it not to watch over the
happiness of their people?"
To the traveler, in the age of Vassili, Russia appeared like a vast
desert compared with the other countries of Europe. The sparseness of
the habitations, the extended plains, dense forests and roads, rough
and desolate, attested that Russia was still in the cradle of its
civilization. But as one approached Moscow, the signs of animated life
rapidly increased. Convoys crowded the grand route, which traversed
vast prairies waving with grain and embellished with all the works of
industry. In the midst of this plain rose the majestic domes and
glittering towers of Moscow. The convents, in massive piles, scattered
around, resembled beautiful villages. The palace of the Kremlin alone,
was a city in itself. Around this, as the nucleus, but spreading over
a wide extent, were the streets of the metropolis, the palaces of the
nobles, the mansions of the wealthy citizens and the shops of the
artisans. The city in that day was, indeed, one of "magnificent
distances," almost every dwelling being surrounded by a garden in
luxurious cultivation. In the year 1520, the houses, by count, which
was ordered by the grand prince, amounted to forty-one thousand five
hundred.
The metropolitan bishop, the grand dignitaries of the court, the
princes and lords occupied splendid mansions of wood reared by Grecian
and Italian architects in the environs of the Kremlin. On wide and
beautiful streets there were a large number of very magnificent
churches also built of wood. The bazaars or shops, filled with the
rich merchandise of Europe and of Asia, were collected in one quarter
of the city, and were surrounded by a high stone wall as a protection
against the armies, domestic or foreign, which were ever sweeping over
the land.
From the eleventh to the sixteenth century, slavery may be said to
have been universal in Russia. Absolutely every man but the monarch
was a slave. The highest nobles and princes avowed themselves the
slaves of the monarch. There was no law but the will of the sovereign.
He could deprive any one of property and of life, and there was no
power to call him to account but the poignard of the assassin or the
sword of rebellion. In like manner the peasant serfs were slaves of
the nobles, with no privileges whatever, except such as the humanity
or the selfishness of their lords might grant But gradually custom,
controlling public opinion, assumed almost the form of law. The kings
established certain rules for the promotion of industry and the
regulation of commerce. Merchants and scholars attained a degree of
practical independence which was based on indulgence rather than any
constitutional right, and, during the reign of Vassili, the law alone
could doom the serf to death, and he began to be regarded as a _man_,
as a _citizen_ protected by the laws.[8] From this time we begin to
see the progress of humanity and of higher conceptions of social life.
It is, perhaps, worthy of record that anciently the peasants or serfs
were universally designated by the name _smerdi_, which simply means
_smelling offensively_. Is the exhalation of an offensive odor the
necessary property of a people imbruted by poverty and filth? In
America that unpleasant effluvium has generally been considered a
peculiarity pertaining to the colored race. Philosophic observation
may show that it is a disease, the result of uncleanliness, but, like
other diseases, often transmitted from the guilty parent to the
unoffending child. We have known white people who were exceedingly
offensive in this respect, and colored people who were not so at all.
[Footnote 8: Karamsin, tome vii., page 265.]
The pride of illustrious birth was carried to the greatest extreme,
and a noble would blush to enter into any friendly relations whatever
with a plebeian. The nobles considered all business degrading
excepting war, and spent the weary months, when not under arms, in
indolence in their castles. The young women of the higher families
were in a deplorable state of captivity. Etiquette did not allow them
to mingle with society, or even to be seen except by their parents,
and they had no employment except sewing or knitting, no mental
culture and no sources of amusement. It was not the custom for the
young men to choose their wives, but the father of the maiden
selected some eligible match for his daughter, and made propositions
to the family of his contemplated son-in-law, stating the dowry he
would confer upon the bride, and the parties were frequently married
without ever having previously seen each other.
The death of Vassili transmitted the crown to his only son, Ivan, an
infant but three years of age. By the will of the dying monarch, the
regency, during the minority of the child, was placed in the hands of
the youthful mother, the princess Hélène. The brothers of Vassili and
twenty nobles of distinction were appointed as counselors for the
queen regent. Two men, however, in concert with Hélène, soon took the
reins of government into their own hands. One of these was a sturdy,
ambitious old noble, Michel Glinsky, an uncle of Hélène; the other was
a young and handsome prince, Ivan Telennef, who was suspected of
tender _liaisons_ with his royal mistress.
The first act of the new government was to assemble all the higher
clergy in the church of the Assumption, where the metropolitan bishop
gave his benediction to the child destined to reign over Russia, and
who was there declared to be accountable to God only for his actions.
At the same time embassadors were sent to all the courts of Europe to
announce the death of Vassili and the accession of Ivan IV. to the
throne.
But a week passed after these ceremonies ere the prince Youri, one of
the brothers of Vassili, was arrested, charged with conspiracy to
wrest the crown from his young nephew. He was thrown into prison,
where he was left to perish by the slow torture of starvation. This
severity excited great terror in Moscow. The Russians, ever strongly
attached to their sovereigns, now found themselves under the reign of
an oligarchy which they detested. Conspiracies and rumors of
conspiracies agitated the court. Many were arrested upon suspicion
alone, and, cruelly chained, were thrown into dungeons. Michel
Glinsky, indignant at the shameful intimacy evidently existing between
Hélène and Telennef, ventured to remonstrate with the regent boldly
and earnestly, assuring her that the eyes of the court were
scrutinizing her conduct, and that such vice, disgraceful anywhere,
was peculiarly hideous upon a throne, where all looked for examples of
virtue. The audacious noble, though president of the council, was
immediately arrested under an accusation of treason, and was thrown
into a dungeon, where, soon after, he was assassinated. A reign of
terror now commenced, and imprisonment and death awaited all those who
undertook in any way to thwart the plans of Hélène and Telennef.
André, the youngest of the brothers of Vassili, a man of feeble
character, now alone remained of the royal princes at court. He was
nominally the tutor of his nephew, the young emperor, Ivan IV., and
though a prominent member of the council which Vassili had
established, he had no influence in the government which had been
grasped so energetically and despotically by Hélène and her paramour
Telennef. At length André, trembling for his own life, timidly raised
the banners of revolt, and gathered quite an army around him. But he
had no energy to conduct a war. He was speedily taken, and, loaded
with chains, was thrown into a dungeon, where, after a few weeks of
most cruel deprivations, he miserably perished. Thirty of the lords,
implicated with him in the rebellion, were hung upon the trees around
Novgorod. Many others were put to torture and perished on the rack.
Hélène, surrendering herself to the dominion of guilty love, developed
the ferocity of a tigress.
Sigismond, King of Poland, taking advantage of the general discontent
of the Russians under the sway of Hélène, formed an alliance with the
horde upon the lower waters of the Don, and invaded Russia, burning
and destroying with mercilessness which demons could not have
surpassed. Prince Telennef headed an army to repel them. The pen
wearies in describing the horrors of these scenes. One hundred
thousand Russians are now flying before one hundred and fifty thousand
Polanders. Hundreds of miles of territory are ravaged. Cities and
villages are stormed, plundered, burned; women and children are cut
down and trampled beneath the feet of cavalry, or escape shrieking
into the forests, where they perish of exposure and starvation. But an
army of recruits comes to the aid of the Russians. And now one hundred
and fifty thousand Polanders are driven before two hundred thousand
Russians. They sweep across the frontier like dust driven by the
tornado. And now the cities and villages of Poland blaze; her streams
run red with blood. The Polish wives and daughters in their turn
struggle, shriek and die. From exhaustion the warfare ceases. The two
antagonists, moaning and bleeding, wait for a few years but to recover
sufficient strength to renew the strife, and then the brutal, demoniac
butchery commences anew. Such is the history of man.
In this brief, but bloody war, the city of Staradoub, in Russia, was
besieged by an army of Poles and Tartars. The assault was urged with
the most desperate energy and fearlessness. The defense was conducted
with equal ferocity. Thousands fell on both sides in every mangled
form of death. At last the besiegers undermined the walls, and placing
beneath hundreds of barrels of gunpowder, as with the burst of a
volcano, uphove the massive bastions to the clouds. They fell in a
storm of ruin upon the city, setting it on fire in many places.
Through the flames and over the smouldering ruins, Poles and Tartars,
blackened with smoke and smeared with blood, rushed into the city, and
in a few hours thirteen thousand of the inhabitants were weltering in
their gore. None were left alive. And this is but a specimen of the
wars which raged for ages. The world now has but the faintest
conception of the seas of blood and woe through which humanity has
waded to attain even its present feeble recognition of fraternity.
In this, as in every war with Poland, Russia was gaining, ever
wresting from her rival the provinces of Lithuania, and attaching them
to the gigantic empire. In the year 1534, Hélène commenced the
enterprise of surrounding the whole of Moscow with a ditch, and a wall
capable of resisting the batterings of artillery. An Italian engineer,
named Petrok Maloi, superintended these works. The foundation of the
walls was laid with imposing religious ceremonies. The wall was
crowned with four towers at the opening of the four gates. Hélène was
so conscious of the importance of augmenting the population of Russia,
that she offered land and freedom from taxes for a term of years to
all who would migrate into her territory from Poland. Perhaps also she
had a double object, wishing to weaken a rival power. Much counterfeit
coin was found to be in circulation. The regent issued an edict, that
any one found guilty of depreciating the current standard of coin,
should be punished with death, and this death was to be barbarously
inflicted by first cutting off the hands of the culprit, and then
pouring melted lead through a tunnel down his throat.
On the 3d of April, 1538, Hélène, in the prime of life, and with all
her sins in full vigor and unrepented, retired to her bed at night,
suddenly and seriously sick. Some one had succeeded in administering
to her a dose of poison. She shrieked for a few hours in mortal agony,
and soon after the hour of twelve was tolled, her spirit ascended to
meet God in judgment. Being dead, she had no favors to confer and no
terrors to execute; and her festering remains were the same day
hurried ignominiously to the grave. Her paramour, Telennef, alone wept
over her death. Russia rejoiced, and yet with trembling. Whose strong
arm would now seize the helm of the tempest-torn ship of State, no one
could tell.
The young prince, Ivan IV., was but seven years of age at the death of
his mother Hélène. For several days there was ominous silence in
Moscow, the stillness which precedes the storm. The death of the
regent had come so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that none were prepared
for it. A week passed away, during which time parties were forming and
conspiracies ripening, while Telennef was desperately endeavoring to
retain that power which he had so despotically wielded in conjunction
with his royal mistress. The prince Vassili Schouisky, who had
occupied the first place in the councils of Vassili, opened the drama.
Having secured the coöperation of a large number of nobles, he
declared himself the head of the government, arrested all the
favorites of Hélène, and threw Telennef, bound with chains, into a
dungeon. There he was left to die of starvation--barbarity, which,
though in accordance with that brutal age, even all the similar
excesses of Telennef could not justify. The beautiful sister of
Telennef, Agrippene by name, was torn from the saloons her loveliness
had embellished, and was imprisoned for life in a convent. The victims
of the cruelty of Hélène, who were still languishing in prison, were
set at liberty.
Schouisky was a widower, and in the fiftieth year of his age. He
wished to strengthen his power by engaging the coöperation of the
still formidable energies of the horde at Kezan, and accordingly
married, quite hurriedly, the daughter of the czar of the horde. But
the regal diadem proved to him but a crown of thorns. Conspiracy
succeeded conspiracy, and Schouisky felt compelled to enlist all the
terrors of the dungeon, the scaffold and the block to maintain his
place. Six months only passed away, ere he too was writhing upon the
royal couch in the agonies of death, whether paralyzed by poison or
smitten by the hand of God, the day of judgment alone can reveal.
Ivan Schouisky, the brother of the deceased usurper, now stepped into
the dangerous post which death had so suddenly rendered vacant. He was
a weak man, assuming the most pompous airs, quite unable to
discriminate between imposing grandeur and ridiculous parade. He soon
became both despised and detested. This state of things encouraged the
two hordes of Kezan and Tauride to unite, and with an army of a
hundred thousand men they penetrated Russia almost unopposed, burning
and plundering in all directions.
Under these circumstances the metropolitan bishop, Joseph, a man of
sincere piety and of very elevated character, and who enjoyed in the
highest degree the confidence both of the aristocracy and of the
people, presented himself before the council, urged the incapacity of
Ivan Schouisky to govern, and proposed that Ivan Belsky, a nobleman of
great energy and moral worth, should be chosen regent. The proposal
was carried by acclamation. So unanimous was the vote, so cordial was
the adoption of the republican principle of election, that Ivan
Schouisky was powerless and was merely dismissed.
The new regent, sustained by the clergy and the aristocracy, governed
the State with wisdom and moderation. All kinds of persecution ceased,
and vigorous measures were adopted for the promotion of the public
welfare. Old abuses were repressed; vicious governors deposed, and the
rising flames of civil strife were quenched. Even the hitherto
unheard-of novelty of trial by jury was introduced. Jurors were chosen
from among the most intelligent citizens. Though there was some bitter
opposition among the corrupt nobles to these salutary reforms, the
clergy, as a body, sustained them, and so did also even a majority of
the lords. It was Christianity and the church which introduced these
humanizing measures.
Among the innumerable tragedies of those days, let one be mentioned
illustrative of the terrific wrongs to which all are exposed under a
despotic government. There was a young prince, Dmitri, a child,
grandson of Vassili the blind, whose claims to the throne were feared.
He was thrown into prison and there forgotten. For forty-nine years he
had now remained in a damp and dismal dungeon. He had committed no
crime. He was accused of no crime. It was only feared that restive
nobles might use him as an instrument for the furtherance of their
plans. All the years of youth and of manhood had passed in darkness
and misery. No beam of the sun ever penetrated his tomb. All unheeded
the tides of life surged in the world above him, while his mind with
his body was wasting away in the long agony.
"O who can tell what days, what nights he spent,
Of tideless, waveless, sailless, shoreless woe."
Mercy now entered his cell, but it was too late even for that angel
visitant to bring a gleam of joy. His friends were all dead. His name
was forgotten on earth. He knew nothing of the world or of its ways.
His mind was enfeebled, and even the slender stock of knowledge which
he had possessed as a child, had vanished away. They broke off his
chains and removed him from his dungeon to a comfortable chamber. The
poor old man, dazzled by the light and bewildered by the change,
lingered joylessly and without a smile for a few weeks and died.
Immortality alone offers a solution for these mysteries. "After death
cometh the judgment."
The Christian bishop, Joseph, and Ivan Belsky, the regent, in cordial
coöperation, endeavored in all things to promote prosperity and
happiness. Again there was a coalition of the Tartars for the invasion
of Russia. The three hordes, in Kezan, in the Tauride and at the mouth
of the Volga, united, and in an army one hundred thousand strong, with
numerous cavalry and powerful artillery, commenced their march. The
Russian troops were hastily collected upon the banks of the Oka, there
to take their stand and dispute the passage of the stream. By order of
the clergy, prayers were offered incessantly in the churches by day
and by night, that God would avert this terrible invasion. The young
prince, Ivan IV., was now ten years of age. The citizens of Moscow
were moved to tears and to the deepest enthusiasm on hearing their
young prince, in the church of the Assumption, offer aloud and
fervently the prayer,
"Oh heavenly Father! thou who didst protect our ancestors against
the cruel Tamerlane, take us also under thy holy protection--us
in childhood and orphanage. Our mind and our body are still
feeble, and yet the nation looks to us for deliverance."
Accompanied by the metropolitan Joseph, he entered the council and
said,
"The enemy is approaching. Decide for me whether it be best that
I should remain here or go to meet the foe."
With one voice they exclaimed, "Prince, remain at Moscow."
They then took a solemn oath to die, if necessary, for their prince.
The citizens came forward in crowds and volunteered for the defense of
the walls. The faubourgs were surrounded with pallisades, and
batteries of artillery were placed to sweep, in all directions, the
approaches to the city. The enthusiasm was so astonishing that the
Russian annalists ascribe it to a supernatural cause. On the 30th of
July, 1541, the Tartar army appeared upon the southern banks of the
Oka, crowning all the heights which bordered the stream. Immediately
they made an attempt to force the passage. But the Russians,
thoroughly prepared for the assault, repelled them with prodigious
slaughter. Night put an end to the contest. The Russians were elated
with their success, and waited eagerly for the morning to renew the
strife. They even hoped to be able to cross the river and to sweep the
camp of their foes. The fires of their bivouacs blazed all the night,
reinforcements were continually arriving, and their songs of joy
floated across the water, and fell heavily upon the hearts of the
dismayed Tartars.
At midnight the khan, and the whole host, conscious of their peril,
commenced a precipitate retreat, in their haste abandoning many guns
and much of their baggage. The Russians pursued the foe, but were not
able to overtake them, so rapidly did they retrace their steps.
The news of the expulsion of the enemy spread rapidly through Russia.
The conduct of the grand prince everywhere excited the most lively
enthusiasm. He entered the church, and in an affecting prayer returned
thanks to God for the deliverance. The people, with unanimity,
exclaimed,
"Grand prince, your angelic prayers and your happy star have
caused us to triumph."
Awful, however, were the woes which fell upon those people who were on
the line of march of the barbaric Tartars.
Ivan Belsky, the regent, had now attained the highest degree of good
fortune, and in his own conscience, and in the general approbation of
the people, he found ample recompense for his deeds of humanity, and
his patriotic exertions. But envy, that poison of society, raised up
against him enemies. Ivan Schouisky, who had been deposed by vote of
the council, organized a conspiracy among the disaffected nobles, and
on the night of the 3d of January, 1542, three hundred cavaliers
surrounded the residences of the regent and of the metropolitan
bishop, seized them and hurried them to prison, and in the prison
finished their work by the assassination of Ivan Belsky.
Ivan Schouisky, sustained by the sabers of his partisans, reassumed
the government. A new metropolitan bishop, Macaire was appointed to
take the place of Joseph, who was deposed and imprisoned. The clergy,
overawed, were silent. The reign of silence was again commenced, and
all the posts of honor and influence were placed in the hands of the
partisans of Schouisky. The government, such as it was, was now in the
hands of a triumvirate consisting of Ivan, André and Feodor. Not a
syllable of opposition would these men endure, and the dungeon and the
assassin's poignard silenced all murmurs. The young prince, Ivan IV.,
was now thirteen years of age. He was endowed by nature with a mind of
extraordinary sagacity and force, but his education had been entirely
neglected, and the scenes of perfidy and violence he was continually
witnessing were developing, a character which menaced Russia with many
woes.
The infamous Schiouskies sought to secure the friendship of the young
prince by ministering, in every possible way, to his pleasures. They
led him to the chase, encouraged whatever disposition he chanced to
manifest, and endeavored to train him in a state of feebleness and
ignorance which might promote their ambitious plans. The Kremlin
became the scene of constant intrigues. Cabal succeeded cabal. The
position of the triumvirate became, month after month, more perilous.
The young prince gave decisive indications of discontent. It began to
be whispered into his ears that it was time for him to assume the
reins of government, and he was assured that all Russia was waiting,
eager to obey his orders. The metropolitan bishop, either from a sense
of justice or of policy, also espoused the cause of the youthful
sovereign. It was evident that another party was rising into power.
On the 29th of December, 1534, Ivan IV. went with a large party of his
lords to the chase. Instructed beforehand in the measures he was to
adopt, he, quite unexpectedly to the triumvirate, summoned all his
lords around him, and, assuming an imperious and threatening tone,
declared that the triumvirate had abused his extreme youth, had
trampled upon justice, and, as culprits, deserved to die. In his great
clemency, however, he decided to spare the lives of two, executing
only one as an example to the nation. The oldest of the three, André
Schouisky, was immediately seized and handed over to the conductors of
the hounds. They set the dogs upon him, and he was speedily torn to
pieces in the presence of the company, and his mangled remains were
scattered over the plain.
The partisans of Schouisky, terrified by this deed, were afraid to
utter a murmur. The nobles generally were alarmed, for it was evident
that though they had escaped the violence of the triumvirate, they had
fallen into hands equally to be dreaded. Confiscations and other acts
of rigor rapidly succeeded, and the young prince, still too youthful
to govern by the decision of his own mind, was quite under the control
of the Glinskys, through whose council he had shaken off the
triumvirate of the Schouiskies. Ivan IV. now made the tour of his
kingdom, but with no other object than the promotion of his personal
gratification. Most of his time was devoted to the excitements of the
chase in the savage forests which spread over a large portion of his
realms. He was always surrounded by a brilliant staff of nobles, and
the sufferings of the people were all concealed from his view. The
enormous expenses of his court were exacted from the people he
visited, and his steps were followed by lamentations.
In the year 1546, Ivan attained the eighteenth year of his age, and
made great preparations for his coronation. The imposing rites were to
be performed at Moscow. On the 16th of January, the grand prince
entered one of the saloons of his palaces while the nobles, the
princes, the officers of the court, all richly dressed, were assembled
in the ante-chamber. The confessor of the grand prince, having
received from Ivan IV. a crucifix, placed it upon a plate of gold with
the crown and other regalia, and conveyed them to the church of the
Assumption accompanied by the grand equerry, Glinsky, and other
important personages of the court. Soon after, the grand prince also
repaired to the church. He was preceded by an ecclesiastic holding in
his hand a crucifix, and sprinkling to the right and to the left holy
water upon the crowd.
Ivan IV., surrounded by all the splendors of his court, entered the
church, where he was encircled by the ecclesiastics, and received the
benediction of the metropolitan bishop. A hymn was then sang by the
accumulated choirs, which astounded the audience; after which mass was
celebrated. In the midst of the cathedral, a platform was erected,
which was ascended by twelve steps. Upon this platform there were two
thrones of equal splendor, covered with cloth of gold, one for the
monarch, the other for the metropolitan bishop. In front of the stage
there was a desk, richly decorated, upon which were placed the crown
regalia. The monarch and the bishop took their seats. The bishop,
rising, pronounced a benediction upon the monarch, placed the crown
upon his head, the scepter in his hand, and then, with a loud voice,
prayed that God would endow this new David with the influences of the
Holy Spirit, establish his throne in righteousness, and render him
terrible to evil doers and a benefactor to those who should do well.
The ceremonies were closed by an anthem by the choir. The young
emperor then returned, with his court, to the Kremlin, through streets
carpeted with velvet and damask. As they walked along, the emperor's
brother, Youri, scattered among the crowd handsfull of gold coin,
which he took from a vase carried at his side by Michel Glinsky. The
moment Ivan IV. left the church, the people, till then motionless and
silent, precipitated themselves upon the platform, and all the rich
cloths which had decorated it were torn to shreds, each individual
eager to possess a souvenir of the memorable day.