THE ABDICATION OF IVAN IV.
From 1557 to 1582.
Terror of the Horde in Tauride.--War with Gustavus Vasa of
Sweden.--Political Punctilios.--The Kingdom of Livonia Annexed to
Sweden.--Death of Anastasia.--Conspiracy Against Ivan.--His
Abdication.--His Resumption of the Crown.--Invasion of Russia by the
Tartars and Turks.--Heroism of Zerebrinow.--Utter Discomfiture of the
Tartars.--Relations Between Queen Elizabeth of England, and
Russia.--Intrepid Embassage.--New War with Poland.--Disasters of
Russia.--The Emperor Kills His Own Son.--Anguish of Ivan IV.
The entire subjugation of the Tartars in Kezan terrified the horde in
Tauride, lest their turn to be overwhelmed should next come. Devlet
Ghirei, the khan of this horde, was a man of great ability and
ferocity. Ivan IV. was urged by his counselors immediately to advance
to the conquest of the Crimea. The achievement could then doubtless
have been easily accomplished. But it was a journey of nearly a
thousand miles from Moscow to Tauride. The route was very imperfectly
known; much of the intervening region was an inhospitable wilderness.
The Sultan of Turkey was the sovereign master of the horde, and Ivan
feared that all the terrible energies of Turkey would be roused
against him. There was, moreover, another enemy nearer at home whom
Ivan had greater cause to fear. Gustavus Vasa, the King of Sweden,
had, for some time, contemplated with alarm the rapidly increasing
power of Russia. He accordingly formed a coalition with the Kings of
Poland and Livonia, and with the powerful Dukes of Prussia and of
Denmark, for those two States were then but dukedoms, to oppose the
ambition of the tzar. An occasion for hostilities was found in a
dispute, respecting the boundaries between Russia and Sweden. The
terrible tragedy of war was inducted by a prologue of burning
villages, trampled harvests and massacred peasants, upon the
frontiers. Sieges, bombardments and fierce battles ensued, with the
alternations of success. From one triumphal march of invasion into
Sweden, the Russians returned so laden with prisoners, that, as their
annalists record, a man was sold for one dollar, and a girl for five
shillings.
At length, as usual, both parties became weary of toil and blood, and
were anxious for a respite. Gustavus proposed terms of reconciliation.
Ivan IV. accepted the overtures, though he returned a reproachful and
indignant answer.
"Your people," he wrote, "have exhausted their ferocity upon our
territories. Not only have they burned our cities and massacred our
subjects, but they have even profaned our churches, purloined our
images and destroyed our bells. The inhabitants of Novgorod implored
the aid of our grand army. My soldiers burned with impatience to carry
the war to Stockholm, but I restrained them; so anxious was I to avoid
the effusion of human blood. All the misery resulting from this war,
is to be attributed to your pride. Admitting that you were ignorant of
the grandeur of Novgorod, you might have learned the facts from your
own merchants. They could have told you, that even the suburbs of
Novgorod are superior to the whole of your capital of Stockholm. Lay
aside this pride, and give up your quarrelsome disposition. We are
willing to live in peace with you."
Sweden was not in a condition to resent this rebuke. In February,
1557, the embassadors of Gustavus, consisting of four of the most
illustrious men in the empire, clergy and nobles, accompanied by a
brilliant suite, arrived in Moscow. They were not received as friends,
but as distinguished prisoners, who were to be treated with
consideration, and whose wants were to be abundantly supplied. The
tzar refused to have any direct intercourse with them, and would only
treat through the dignitaries of his court. A truce was concluded for
forty years. The tzar, to impress the embassadors with his wealth and
grandeur, entertained them sumptuously, and they were served from
vessels of gold.
Though peace was thus made with Sweden, a foolish quarrel, for some
time, prevented the conclusion of a treaty with Poland. Ivan IV.
demanded, that Augustus, _King_ of Poland, should recognize him as
_Emperor_ of Russia. Augustus replied, that there were but two
emperors in the world, the Emperor of Germany and the Sultan of
Turkey. Ivan sent, through his embassadors, to Augustus; the letters
of Pope Clement, of the Emperor Maximilian, of the Sultan, of the
Kings of Spain, Sweden and Denmark, and the recent dispatch of the
King of England, all of whom recognized his title of tzar, or emperor.
Still, the Polish king would not allow Ivan a title, which seemed to
place the Russian throne on an eminence above that of Poland.
Unfriendly relations consequently continued, with jealousies and
border strifes, though there was no vigorous outbreak of war.
Ivan IV. now succeeded in attaching Livonia to the great and growing
empire. It came in first as tributary, purchasing, by an annual
contribution, peace with Russia and protection. Though there were many
subsequent conflicts with Livonia, the territory subsequently became
an integral portion of the empire. Russia had now become so great,
that her growth was yearly manifest as surrounding regions were
absorbed by her superior civilization and her armies. The
unenlightened States which surrounded her, were ever provoking
hostilities, invasion, and becoming absorbed. In the year 1558, the
Tartars of Tauride, having assembled an army of one hundred thousand
horsemen, a combination of Tartars and Turks, suddenly entered Russia,
and sweeping resistlessly on, a war tempest of utter desolation,
reached within two hundred miles of Moscow. There they learned that
Ivan himself, with an army more numerous than their own, was on the
march to meet them. Turning, they retreated more rapidly than they
advanced. Notwithstanding their retreat, Ivan resolved to pursue them
to their own haunts. A large number of bateaux was constructed and
launched upon the Don and also upon the Dnieper. The army, in these
two divisions, descended these streams, one to the Sea of Azof, the
other to the mouth of the Dnieper. Thence invading Tauride, both by
the east and the west, they drove the terrified inhabitants, taken
entirely by surprise, like sheep before them. The tents of these
nomads they committed to the flames. Their flocks and herds were
seized, with a great amount of booty, and many Russian captives were
liberated. The Tartars fled to fastnesses whence they could not be
pursued. Some Turks being taken with the horde, Ivan sent them with
rich presents to the sultan, stating that he did not make war against
Turkey, only against the robbers of Tauride. The Russian troops
returned from this triumphant expedition, by ascending the waters of
the Dnieper. All Russia was filled with rejoicing, while the churches
resounded with "Te Deums."
And now domestic griefs came to darken the palace of Ivan. For
thirteen years he had enjoyed all the happiness which conjugal love
can confer. Anastasia was still in the brilliance of youth and beauty,
when she was attacked by dangerous sickness. As she was lying upon her
couch, helpless and burning with fever, the cry of fire was heard. The
day was excessively hot; the windows of the palace all open, and a
drouth of several weeks made every thing dry as tinder. The
conflagration commenced in an adjoining street, and, in a moment,
volumes of flame and smoke were swept by the wind, enveloping the
Kremlin, and showering upon it and into it, innumerable flakes of
fire. The queen was thrown into a paroxysm of terror; the attendants
hastily placed her upon a litter and bore her, almost suffocated,
through the blazing streets out of the city, to the village of
Kolomensk. The emperor then returned to assist in arresting the
conflagration. He exposed himself like a common laborer, inspiring
others with intrepidity by mounting ladders, carrying water and
opposing the flames in the most dangerous positions. The conflagration
proved awful in its ravages, many of the inhabitants perishing in the
flames.
This calamitous event was more than the feeble frame of Anastasia
could endure. She rapidly failed, and on the 7th of August, 1560, she
expired. The grief of Ivan was heartrending, and never was national
affliction manifested in a more sincere and touching manner. Not only
the whole court, but almost the entire city of Moscow, followed the
remains of Anastasia to their interment. Many, in the bitterness of
their grief, sobbed aloud. The most inconsolable were the poor and
friendless, calling Anastasia by the name of mother. The anguish of
Ivan for a time quite unmanned him, and he wept like a child. The loss
of Anastasia did indeed prove to Ivan the greatest of earthly
calamities. She had been his guardian angel, his guide to virtue.
Having lost his guide, he fell into many errors from which Anastasia
would have preserved him.
In the course of a few months, either the tears of Ivan were dried up,
or political considerations seemed to render it necessary for him to
seek another wife. Notwithstanding the long hereditary hostility which
had existed between Russia and Poland, perhaps _in consequence of it_,
Ivan made proposals for a Polish princess, Catharine, sister of
Sigismond Augustus, the king. The Poles demanded, as an essential item
in the marriage contract, that the children of Catharine should take
the precedence of those of Anastasia as heirs to the throne. This
iniquitous demand the tzar rejected with the scorn it merited. The
revenge in which the Poles indulged was characteristic of the rudeness
of the times. The court of Augustus sent a white mare, beautifully
caparisoned, to Ivan, with the message, that such a wife he would find
to be in accordance with his character and wants. The outrageous
insult incensed Ivan to the highest degree, and he vowed that the
Poles should feel the weight of his displeasure. Catharine, in the
meantime, was married to the Duke of Finland, who was brother to the
King of Sweden, and whose sister was married to the King of Denmark.
Thus the three kingdoms of Poland, Sweden and Denmark, and the Duchy
of Finland were strongly allied by matrimonial ties, and were ready to
combine against the Russian emperor.
Ivan IV. nursed his vengeance, waiting for an opportunity to strike a
blow which should be felt. Elizabeth was now Queen of England, and her
embassador at the court of Russia was in high favor with the emperor.
Probably through his influence Ivan showed great favor to the Lutheran
clergy, who were gradually gaining followers in the empire. He
frequently admitted them to court, and even listened to their
arguments in favor of the reformed religion. The higher clergy and the
lords were much incensed by this liberality, which, in their view,
endangered the ancient usages, both civil and religious, of the realm,
and a very formidable conspiracy was organized against the tzar.
Ivan IV. was apprised of the conspiracy, and, with singular boldness
and magnanimity, immediately assembled his leading nobles and higher
clergy in the great audience-chamber of the Kremlin. He presented
himself before them in the glittering robes and with all the insignia
of royalty. Divesting himself of them all, he said to his astonished
auditors,
"You have deemed me unworthy any longer to occupy the throne. I here
and now give in my abdication, and request you to nominate some person
whom you may consider worthy to be your sovereign."
Without permitting any reply he dismissed them, and the next day
convened all the clergy of Moscow in the church of St. Mary. A high
mass was celebrated by the metropolitan, in which the monarch
assisted, and he then took an affecting leave of them all, in a
solemn renunciation of all claims to the crown. Accompanied by his two
sons, he retired to the strong yet secluded castle of Caloujintz,
situated about five miles from Moscow. Here he remained several days,
waiting, it is generally supposed, for a delegation to call, imploring
him again to resume the crown. In this expectation he was not
disappointed. The lords were unprepared for such decisive action. In
their councils there was nothing but confusion. Anarchy was rapidly
commencing its reign, which would be followed inevitably by civil war.
The partisans of the emperor in the provinces were very numerous, and
could be rallied by a word from him; and no one imagined that the
emperor had any idea of retiring so peacefully. It was not doubted
that he would soon appear at the head of an army, and punish
relentlessly the disaffected, who would all then be revealed. The
citizens, the nobles and the clergy met together and appointed a
numerous deputation to call upon the emperor and implore him again to
resume the reins of power.
"Your faithful subjects, sire," exclaimed the petitioners, "are deeply
afflicted. The State is exposed to fearful peril from dissension
within and enemies without. We do therefore most earnestly entreat
your majesty, as a faithful shepherd, still to watch over his flock;
we do entreat you to return to your throne, to continue your favor to
the deserving, and not to forsake your faithful subjects in
consequence of the errors of a few."
Ivan listened with much apparent indifference to this pathetic
address, and either really felt, or affected, great reluctance again
to resume the cares of royalty. He requested a day's time to consider
their proposal. The next morning the nobles were again convened, and
Ivan acquainted them with his decision. Rebuking them with severity
for their ingratitude, reproaching them with the danger to which his
life had been exposed through their conspiracy, he declared that he
could not again assume the cares and the perils of the crown. Still
his refusal was not so decisive as to exclude all room for further
entreaties. They renewed their supplications with tears, for Russia
was, indeed, exposed to all the horrors of civil war, should Ivan
persist in his resolve, and it was certain that the empire, thus
distracted, would at once be invaded by both Poles and Turks.
Thus importuned, Ivan at last consented to return to the Kremlin. He
resolved, however, to make an example of those who had conspired
against him, which should warn loudly against the renewal of similar
attempts. The principal movers in the plot were executed. Ivan then
surrounded himself with a body guard of two hundred men carefully
selected from the distant provinces, and who were in no way under the
influence of any of the lords. This body guard, composed of low-born,
uneducated men, incapable of being roused to any high enthusiasm,
subsequently proved quite a nuisance.
Ivan IV. had but just resumed his seat upon the throne when couriers
from the southern provinces brought the alarming intelligence that an
immense army of combined Tartars and Turks had invaded the empire and
were on the rapid march, burning and destroying all before them.
Selim, the son and successor of Solyman the Magnificent, entered into
an alliance with several oriental princes, who were to send him
succors by the way of the Caspian Sea, and raised an army of three
hundred thousand men. These troops were embarked at Constantinople,
and, crossing the Black Sea and the Sea of Azof, entered Tauride. Here
they were joined by a reinforcement of Crimean Tartars, consisting of
forty thousand well-armed and veteran fighters. With this force the
sultan marched directly across the country to the Russian city and
province of Astrachan, at the mouth of the Volga.
But a heroic man, Zerebrinow, was in command of the fortresses in this
remote province of the Russian empire. He immediately assembled all
his available troops, and, advancing to meet the foe, selected his
own ground for the battle in a narrow defile where the vast masses of
the enemy would only encumber each other. Falling upon the invaders
unexpectedly from ambuscades, he routed the Turks with great carnage.
They were compelled to retreat, having lost nearly all their baggage
and heavy artillery. The triumphant Russians pursued them all the way
back to the city of Azof, cannonading them with the artillery and the
ammunition they had wrested from their foes. Here the Turks attempted
to make a final stand, but a chance shot from one of the guns
penetrated the immense powder magazine, and an explosion so terrific
ensued that two thirds of the city were entirely demolished.
The Turks, in consternation, now made a rush for their ships. But
Zerebrinow, with coolness and sagacity which no horrors could disturb,
had already planted his batteries to sweep them with a storm of
bullets and balls. The cannonade was instantly commenced. The missiles
of death fell like hail stones into the crowded boats and upon the
crowded decks. Many of the ships were sunk, others disabled, and but a
few, torn and riddled, succeeded in escaping to sea, where the most of
them also perished beneath the waves of the stormy Euxine. Such was
the utter desolation of this one brief war tempest which lasted but a
few weeks.
Queen Elizabeth, anxious to maintain friendly relations with an empire
so vast, and opening before her subjects such a field of profitable
commerce, having been informed of the conspiracy against Ivan IV., of
his abdication, and of his resumption of the crown, sent to him an
embassador with expressions of her kindest wishes, and assured him
that should he ever be reduced to the disagreeable necessity of
leaving his empire, he would find a safe retreat in England, where he
would be received and provided for in a manner suitable to his
dignity, where he could enjoy the free exercise of his religion and be
permitted to depart whenever he should wish.
The tolerant spirit manifested by Ivan IV. towards the Lutherans,
continued to disturb the ecclesiastics; and the clergy and nobles of
the province of Novgorod, headed by the archbishop, formed a plot of
dissevering Novgorod from the empire, and attaching it to the kingdom
of Poland. This conspiracy assumed a very formidable attitude, and one
of the brothers of the tzar was involved in it. Ivan immediately sent
an army of fifteen thousand men to quell the revolt. We have no
account of this transaction but from the pens of those who were
envenomed by their animosity to the religious toleration of Ivan. We
must consequently receive their narratives with some allowance.
The army, according to their account, ravaged the whole province; took
the city by storm; and cut down in indiscriminate slaughter
twenty-five thousand men, women and children. The brother of Ivan IV.
was seized and thrown into prison, where he miserably perished. The
archbishop was stripped of his canonical robes, clad in the dress of a
harlequin, paraded through the streets on a gray mare, an object of
derision to the people, and then was imprisoned for life. Such cruelty
does not seem at all in accordance with the character of Ivan, while
the grossest exaggeration is in accordance with the character of all
civil and religious partisans.
War with Poland seems to have been the chronic state of Russia.
Whenever either party could get a chance to strike the other a blow,
the blow was sure to be given; and they were alike unscrupulous
whether it were a saber blow in the face or a dagger thrust in the
back. In the year 1571, a Russian army pursued a discomfited band of
Livonian insurgents across the frontier into Poland. The Poles eagerly
joined the insurgents, and sent envoys to invite the Crimean Tartars
to invade Russia from Tauride, while Poland and Livonia should assail
the empire from the west. The Tartars were always ready for war at a
moment's notice. Seventy thousand men were immediately on the march.
They rapidly traversed the southern provinces, trampling down all
opposition until they reached the Oka. Here they encountered a few
Russian troops who attempted to dispute the passage of the stream.
They were, however, speedily overpowered by the Tartars and were
compelled to retreat. Pressing on, they arrived within sixty miles of
the city, when they found the Russians again concentered, but now in
large numbers, to oppose their progress. A fierce battle was fought.
Again the Russians were overpowered, and the Tartars, trampling them
beneath their horses' hoofs, with yells of triumph, pressed on towards
the metropolis. The whole city was in consternation, for it had no
means of effectual resistance. Ivan IV. in his terror packed up his
most valuable effects, and, with the royal family, fled to a strong
fortress far away in the North.
From the battlements of the city, the banners of these terrible
barbarians were soon seen on the approach. With bugle blasts and
savage shouts they rushed in at the gates, swept the streets with
their sabers, pillaged houses and churches, and set the city on fire
in all directions. The city was at that time, according to the
testimony of the cotemporary annalists, forty miles in circumference.
The weltering flames rose and fell as in the crater of a volcano, and
in six hours the city was in ashes. Thousands perished in the flames.
The fire, communicating with a powder magazine, produced an explosion
which uphove the buildings like an earthquake, and prostrated more
than a third of a mile of the city walls. According to the most
reliable testimony, there perished in Moscow, by fire and sword, from
this one raid of the Tartars, more than one hundred and fifty thousand
of its inhabitants.
The Tartars, tottering beneath the burden of their spoil, and dragging
after them many thousand prisoners of distinction, slowly, proudly,
defiantly retired. With barbaric genius they sent to the tzar a naked
cimiter, accompanied by the following message:
"This is a token left to your majesty by an enemy, whose revenge is
still unsatiated, and who will soon return again to complete the work
which he has but just begun."
Such is war. It is but a succession of miseries. A hundred and fifty
thousand Tartars perished but a few months before in the waves of the
Euxine. Now, a hundred and fifty thousand Russians perish, in their
turn, amidst the flames of Moscow. When we contemplate the wars which
have incessantly ravaged this globe, the history of man seems to be
but the record of the strifes of demons, with occasional gleams of
angel magnanimity.
After the retreat of the Tartars, Ivan IV. convened a council of war,
punished with death those officers who had fled before the enemy as he
himself had done; and, rendered pliant by accumulated misfortune, he
presented such overtures to the King of Poland as to obtain the
promise of a truce for three years. Soon after this, Sigismond, King
of Poland, died. The crown was elective, and the nobles, who met to
choose a new monarch, by a considerable majority invited Maximilian
II., Emperor of Germany, to assume the scepter. They assigned as a
reason for this choice, which surprised Europe, the religious
liberality of the emperor, who, as they justly remarked, had
conciliated the contending factions of the Christian world, and had
acquired more glory by his pacific policy than other princes had
acquired in the exploits of war.
A minority of the nobles were displeased with this choice, and
refusing to accede to the vote of the majority, proceeded to another
election, and chose Stephen Bathori, a warrior chief of Transylvania,
as their sovereign.[9] The two parties now rallied around their rival
candidates and prepared for war. Ivan IV. could not allow so favorable
an opportunity to interfere in the politics of Poland to escape him.
He immediately sent embassadors to Maximilian, offering to assist him
with all the power of the Russian armies against Stephen Bathori.
Maximilian gratefully acknowledged the generosity of the tzar, and
promised to return the favor whenever an opportunity should be
presented. At the same time, Stephen Bathori, who had already been
crowned King of Poland, sent an embassador to Moscow to inform Ivan of
his election and coronation, and to propose friendly relations with
Russia. Ivan answered frankly that a treaty already existed between
him and the Emperor Maximilian, but that, since he wished to live on
friendly terms with Poland, whoever her monarch might be, he would
send embassadors to examine into the claims of the rival candidates
for the crown. Thus adroitly he endeavored to obtain for himself the
position of umpire between Maximilian and Stephen Bathori. The death
of the Emperor Maximilian on the 12th of October, 1576, settled this
strife, and Stephen attained the undisputed sovereignty of Poland.
[Footnote 9: See Empire of Austria, page 181.]
Almost the first measure of the new sovereign, in accordance with
hereditary usage, was war against Russia. His object was to regain
those territories which the tzar had heretofore wrested from the
Poles. Apparently trivial incidents reveal the rude and fierce
character of the times. Stephen chivalrously sent first an embassador,
Basil Lapotinsky, to the court of Ivan, to demand the restitution of
the provinces. Lapotinsky was accompanied by a numerous train of
nobles, magnificently mounted and armed to the teeth. As the
glittering cavalcade, protected by its flag of truce, swept along
through the cities of Russia towards Moscow, and it became known that
they were the bearers of an imperious message, demanding the surrender
of portions of the Russian empire, the populace were with difficulty
restrained from falling upon them.
Through a thousand dangers they reached Moscow. When there, Lapotinsky
declared that he came not as a suppliant, but to present a claim which
his master was prepared to enforce, if necessary, with the sword, and
that, in accordance with the character of his mission, he was
directed, in his audience with Ivan, to present the letter with one
hand while he held his unsheathed saber in the other. The officers of
the imperial household assured him that such bravado would inevitably
cost him his life.
"The tzar," Lapotinsky replied, "can easily take my life, and he may
do so if he please, but nothing shall prevent me from performing the
duty with which I am intrusted, with the utmost exactitude."
The audience day arrived. Lapotinsky was conducted to the Kremlin. The
tzar, in his imperial robes glittering with diamonds and pearls,
received him in a magnificent hall. The haughty embassador, with great
dignity and in respectful terms, yet bold and decisive, demanded
reparation for the injuries which Russia had inflicted upon Poland.
His gleaming saber was carelessly held in one hand and the letter to
the tzar, from the King of Poland, in the other. Having finished his
brief speech, he received a cimeter from one of his suite, and,
advancing firmly, yet very respectfully, to the monarch, presented
them both, saying,
"Here is peace and here is war. It is for your majesty to choose
between them."
Ivan IV. was capable of appreciating the nobility of such a character.
The intrepidity of the embassador, which was defiled with no
comminglings of insolence, excited his admiration. The emperor, with a
smile, took the letter, which was written on parchment in the Russian
language and sealed with a seal of gold. Slowly and carefully he read
it, and then addressing the embassador, said,
"Such menaces will not induce Russia to surrender her dominions to
Poland. We, who have vanquished the Poles on so many fields of battle,
who have conquered the Tartars of Kezan and Astrachan, and who have
triumphed over the forces of the Ottoman empire, will soon cause the
King of Poland to repent his rashness."
He then dismissed the embassador, ordering him to be treated with the
respect due his high station. War being thus formally declared, both
parties prepared to prosecute it with the utmost vigor. The tzar
immediately commenced raising a large army, reinforced his garrisons,
and sent a secret envoy to Tauride, to excite the Crimean Tartars to
invade Poland on the south-east while Russia should make an assault
from the north.
The Poles opened the campaign by crossing the frontiers with a large
army, seizing several minor cities and laying siege to the important
fortress of Polotzk. After a long siege, which constituted one of
those terrific tragedies of blood and woe with which the pages of
history are filled, but which no pen can describe and no imagination
can conceive, the city, a pile of gory and smouldering ruins, fell
into the hands of the Poles. Battle after battle, siege after siege
ensued, in nearly all of which the Poles were successful. They were
guided by their monarch in person, a veteran warrior, who possessed
extraordinary military skill. The blasts of winter drove both parties
from the field. But, in the earliest spring, the campaign was opened
again with redoubled energy. Again the Poles, who had obtained strong
reinforcements of troops from Germany and Hungary, were signally
successful. Though the fighting was constant and arduous, the whole
campaign was but a series of conquests on the part of Stephen, and
when the snows of another winter whitened the fields, the Polish
banners were waving over large portions of the Russian territory. The
details of these scenes are revolting. Fire, blood and the brutal
passions of demoniac men were combined in deeds of horror, the recital
of which makes the ears to tingle.
Before the buds of another spring had opened into leaf, the contending
armies were again upon the march. Poland had now succeeded in
enlisting Sweden in her cause, and Russia began to be quite seriously
imperiled. Riga, on the Dwina, soon fell into the hands of the Poles,
and their banners were resistlessly on the advance. Ivan IV., much
dejected, proposed terms of peace. Stephen refused to treat unless
Russia would surrender the whole of Livonia, a province nearly three
times as large as the State of Massachusetts, to Poland. The tzar was
compelled essentially to yield to these hard terms.
The treaty of peace was signed on the 15th of January, 1582. Ivan IV.
surrendered to Poland all of Livonia which bordered on Poland, which
contained thirty-four towns and castles, together with several other
important fortresses on the frontiers. A truce was concluded for ten
years, should both parties live so long. But should either die, the
survivor was at liberty immediately to attack the territory of the
deceased. No mention whatever was made of Sweden in this treaty. This
neglect gave such offense to the Swedish court, that, in petty
revenge, they sent an _Italian cook_ to the Polish court as an
embassador with the most arrogant demands. Stephen very wisely treated
the insult, which he probably deserved, with contempt.
The result of this war, so humiliating to Russia, rendered Ivan very
unpopular. Murmurs loud and deep were heard all over the empire. Many
of the nobles threw themselves at the feet of the tzar and entreated
him not to assent to so disgraceful a treaty, assuring him that the
whole nation were ready at his call to rise and drive the invaders
from the empire. Ivan was greatly incensed, and petulantly replied
that if they were not satisfied with his administration they had
better choose another sovereign. Suspecting that his son was inciting
this movement, and that he perhaps was aiming at the crown, Ivan
assailed him in the bitterest terms of reproach. The young prince
replied in a manner which so exasperated his father, that he struck
him with a staff which he had in his hand. The staff was tipped with
an iron ferule which unfortunately hit the young man on the temple,
and he fell senseless at his father's feet.
The anguish of Ivan was unspeakable. His paroxysm of anger instantly
gave place to a more intense paroxysm of grief and remorse. He threw
himself upon the body of his son, pressed him fervently to his heart,
and addressed him in the most endearing terms of affection and
affliction. The prince so far revived as to be able to exchange a few
words with his father, but in four days he died. The blow which
deprived the son of life, for ever after deprived the father of peace.
He was seldom again seen to smile. Any mention of his son would ever
throw him into a paroxysm of tears. For a long time he could with
difficulty be persuaded to take any nourishment or to change his
dress. With the utmost possible demonstrations of grief and respect
the remains of the prince were conveyed to the grave. The death of
this young man was a calamity to Russia. He was the worthy son of
Anastasia, and from his mother he had inherited both genius and moral
worth. By a subsequent marriage Ivan had two other sons, Feodor and
Dmitri. But they were of different blood; feeble in intellect and
possessed no requisites for the exalted station opening before them.