THE STORMS OF HEREDITARY SUCCESSION.
From 1582 to 1608.
Anguish and Death of Ivan IV.--His Character.--Feodor and
Dmitri.--Usurpation of Boris Gudenow.--The Polish Election.--Conquest
of Siberia.--Assassination of Dmitri.--Death of Feodor.--Boris Crowned
King.--Conspiracies.--Reappearance of Dmitri.--Boris Poisoned.--The
Pretender Crowned.--Embarrassments of Dmitri.--A New
Pretender.--Assassination of Dmitri.--Crowning of Zuski.--Indignation
of Poland.--Historical Romance.
The hasty blow which deprived the son of Ivan of life was also fatal
to the father. He never recovered from the effects. After a few months
of anguish and remorse, Ivan IV. sank sorrowing to the grave.
Penitent, prayerful and assured that his sins were forgiven, he met
death with perfect composure. The last days of his life were devoted
exclusively to such preparations for his departure that the welfare of
his people might be undisturbed. He ordered a general act of amnesty
to be proclaimed to all the prisoners throughout all the empire,
abolished several onerous taxes, restored several confiscated estates
to their original owners, and urged his son, Feodor, who was to be his
successor, to make every possible endeavor to live at peace with his
neighbors, that Russia might thus be saved from the woes of war.
Exhausted by a long interview with his son, he took a bath; on coming
out he reclined upon a couch, and suddenly, without a struggle or a
groan, was dead.
Ivan IV. has ever been regarded as one of the most illustrious of the
Russian monarchs. He was eminently a learned prince for the times in
which he lived, entertaining uncommonly just views both of religion
and politics. In religion he was tolerant far above his age, allowing
no Christians to be persecuted for their belief. We regret that this
high praise must be limited by his treatment of the Jews, whom he
could not endure. With conscientiousness, unenlightened and bigoted,
he declared that those who had betrayed and crucified the Saviour of
the world ought not to be tolerated by any Christian prince. He
accordingly ordered every Jew either to be baptized into the Christian
faith or to depart from the empire.
Ivan was naturally of a very hasty temper, which was nurtured by the
cruel and shameful neglect of his early years. Though he struggled
against this infirmity, it would occasionally break out in paroxysms
which caused bitter repentance. The death of his son, caused by one of
these outbreaks, was the great woe of his life. Still he was
distinguished for his love of justice. At stated times the aggrieved
of every rank were admitted to his presence, where they in person
presented their petitions. If any minister or governor was found
guilty of oppression, he was sure to meet with condign punishment.
This impartiality, from which no noble was exempted, at times
exasperated greatly the haughty aristocracy. He was also inflexible in
his determination to confer office only upon those who were worthy of
the trust. No solicitations or views of self-interest could induce him
to swerve from this resolve. Intemperance he especially abominated,
and frowned upon the degrading vice alike in prince or peasant. He
conferred an inestimable favor upon Russia by causing a compilation,
for the use of his subjects, of a body of laws, which was called "The
Book of Justice." This code was presented to the judges, and was
regarded as authority in all law proceedings.
The historians of those days record that his memory was so remarkable
that he could call all the officers of his army by name, and could
even remember the name of every prisoner he had taken, numbering many
thousands. In those days of dim enlightenment, when the masses were
little elevated above the animal, the popular mind was more easily
impressed by material than intellectual grandeur. It was then deemed
necessary, among the unenlightened nations of Europe, to overawe the
multitude by the splendor of the throne--by scepters, robes and
diadems glittering with priceless jewels and with gold. The crown
regalia of Russia were inestimably rich. The robe of the monarch was
of purple, embroidered with precious stones, and even his shoes
sparkled with diamonds of dazzling luster.
When he sat upon his throne to receive foreign embassadors, or the
members of his own court, he held in his right hand a globe, the
emblem of universal monarchy, enriched with all the jeweled splendor
which art could entwine around it. In his left hand he held a scepter,
which also dazzled the eye by its superb embellishments. His fingers
were laden with the most precious gems the Indies could afford.
Whenever he appeared in public, the arms of the empire, finely
embroidered upon a spread eagle, and magnificently adorned, were borne
as a banner before him; and the masses of the people bowed before
their monarch, thus arrayed, as though he were a god.
Ivan IV. left two sons, Feodor and Dmitri. Feodor, who succeeded his
father, was twenty years of age, weak, characterless, though quite
amiable. In his early youth his chief pleasure seemed to consist in
ringing the bells of Moscow, which led his father, at one time, to say
that he was fitter to be the son of a sexton than of a prince. Dmitri
was an infant. He was placed, by his father's will, under the tutelage
of an energetic, ambitious noble, by the name of Bogdan Bielski. This
aspiring nobleman, conscious of the incapacity of Feodor to govern,
laid his plans to obtain the throne for himself.
Feodor was crowned immediately after the death of his father, and
proceeded at once to carry out the provisions of his will by
liberating the prisoners, abolishing the taxes and restoring
confiscated estates. He also abolished the body guard of the tzar,
which had become peculiarly obnoxious to the nation. These measures
rendered him, for a time, very popular. This popularity thwarted
Bielski in the plan of organizing the people and the nobles in a
conspiracy against the young monarch, and the nobles even became so
much alarmed by the proceedings of the haughty minister, who was so
evidently aiming at the usurpation of the throne, that they besieged
him in his castle. The fortress was strong, and the powerful feudal
lord, rallying his vassals around him, made a valiant and a protracted
defense. At length, finding that he would be compelled to surrender,
he attempted to escape in disguise. Being taken a captive, he was
offered his choice, death, or the renunciation of all political
influence and departure into exile. He chose the latter, and retired
beyond the Volga to one of the most remote provinces of Kezan.
Feodor had married the daughter of one of the most illustrious of his
nobles. His father-in-law, a man of peculiar address and capacity,
with ability both to conceive and execute the greatest undertakings,
soon attained supremacy over the mind of the feeble monarch. The name
of this noble, who became renowned in Russian annals, was Boris
Gudenow. He had the rare faculty of winning the favor of all whom he
approached. With rapid strides he attained the posts of prime
minister, commander-in-chief and co-regent of the empire. A Polish
embassador at this time visited Moscow, and, witnessing the extreme
feebleness of Feodor, sent word to his ambitious master, Stephen
Bathori, that nothing would be easier than to invade Russia
successfully; that Smolensk could easily be taken, and that thence the
Polish army might find an almost unobstructed march to Moscow. But
death soon removed the Polish monarch from the labyrinths of war and
diplomacy.
Boris was now virtually the monarch of Russia, reigning, however, in
the name of Feodor. We have before mentioned that Poland was an
elective monarchy. Immediately upon the death of a sovereign, the
nobles, with their bands of retainers, often eighty thousand in
number, met upon a large plain, where they spent many days in
intrigues and finally in the election of a new chieftain. Boris
Gudenow now roused all his energies in the endeavor to unite Poland
and Russia under one monarchy by the election of Feodor as sovereign
of the latter kingdom. The Polish nobles, proud and self-confident,
and apprised of the incapacity of Feodor, were many of them in favor
of the plan, as Boris had adroitly intimated to them that they might
regard the measure rather as the annexing Russia to Poland than Poland
to Russia. All that Boris cared for was the fact accomplished. He was
willing that the agents of his schemes should be influenced by any
motives which might be most efficacious.
The Polish diet met in a stormy session, and finally, a majority of
its members, instead of voting for Feodor, elected Prince Sigismond, a
son of John, King of Sweden. This election greatly alarmed Russia, as
it allied Poland and Sweden by the most intimate ties, and might
eventually place the crown of both of those powerful kingdoms upon the
same brow. These apprehensions were increased by the fact that the
Crimean Tartars soon again began to make hostile demonstrations, and
it was feared that they were moving only in accordance with
suggestions which had been sent to them from Poland and Sweden, and
that thus a triple alliance was about to desolate the empire. The
Tartars commenced their march. But Boris met them with such energy
that they were driven back in utter discomfiture.
The northern portion of Asia consisted of a vast, desolate,
thinly-peopled country called Siberia. It was bounded by the Caucasian
and Altai mountains on the south, the Ural mountains on the west, the
Pacific Ocean on the east, and the Frozen Ocean on the north. Most of
the region was within the limits of the frozen zone, and the most
southern sections were cold and inhospitable, enjoying but a gleam of
summer sunshine. This country, embracing over four millions of square
miles, being thus larger than the whole of Europe, contained but about
two millions of inhabitants. It was watered by some of the most
majestic rivers on the globe, the Oby, Enisei and the Lena. The
population consisted mostly of wandering Mohammedan Tartars, in a very
low state of civilization. At that time there were but two important
towns in this region, Tura and Tobolsk. Some of the barbarians of this
region descended to the shores of the Volga, in a desolating,
predatory excursion. A Russian army drove them back, pursued them to
their homes, took both of these towns, erected fortresses, and
gradually brought the whole of Siberia under Russian sway. This great
conquest was achieved almost without bloodshed.
Boris Gudenow now exercised all the functions of sovereign authority.
His energy had enriched Russia with the accession of Siberia. He now
resolved to lay aside the feeble prince Feodor, who nominally occupied
the throne, and to place the crown upon his own brow. It seemed to him
an easy thing to appropriate the emblems of power, since he already
enjoyed all the prerogatives of royalty. Under the pretense of
rewarding, with important posts of trust, the most efficient of the
nobles, he removed all those whose influence he had most to dread, to
distant provinces and foreign embassies. He then endeavored, by many
favors, to win the affections of the populace of Moscow.
The young prince Dmitri had now attained his ninth year, and was
residing, under the care of his tutors, at the city of Uglitz, about
two hundred miles from Moscow. Uglitz, with its dependencies, had been
assigned to him for his appanage. Gudenow deemed it essential, to his
secure occupancy of the throne, that this young prince should be put
out of the way. He accordingly employed a Russian officer, by the
promise of immense rewards, to assassinate the child. And then, the
deed having been performed, to prevent the possibility of his agency
in it being divulged, he caused another low-born murderer to track the
path of the officer and plunge a dagger into his bosom. Both murders
were successfully accomplished.
The news of the assassination of the young prince soon reached Moscow,
and caused intense excitement. Gudenow was by many suspected, though
he endeavored to stifle the report by clamorous expressions of horror
and indignation, and by apparently making the most strenuous efforts
to discover the murderers. As an expression of his rage, he sent
troops to demolish the fortress of Uglitz, and to drive the
inhabitants from the city, because they had, as he asserted, harbored
the assassins. Soon after this Feodor was suddenly taken ill. He
lingered upon his bed for a few days in great pain, and then died.
When the king was lying upon this dying bed, Boris Gudenow, who, it
will be recollected, was the father of the wife of Feodor, succeeded
in obtaining from him a sort of bequest of the throne, and immediately
upon the death of the king, he assumed the state of royalty as a duty
enjoined upon him by this bequest. The death of Feodor terminated the
reign of the house of Ruric, which had now governed Russia for more
than seven hundred years.
Not a little artifice was still requisite to quell the indignant
passions which were rising in the bosoms of the nobles. But Gudenow
was a consummate master of his art, and through the intrigues of years
had the programme of operations all arranged. According to custom, six
weeks were devoted to mourning for Feodor. Boris then assembled the
nobility and principal citizens of Moscow, in the Kremlin, and, to the
unutterable surprise of many of them, declared that he could not
consent to assume the weighty cares and infinite responsibilities of
royalty; that the empire was unfortunately left without a sovereign,
and that they must proceed to designate the one to whom the crown
should be transferred; that he, worn down with the toils of State, had
decided to retire to a monastery, and devote the remainder of his days
to poverty, retirement and to God. He immediately took leave of the
astonished and perplexed assembly, and withdrew to a convent about
three miles from Moscow.
The partisans of Boris were prepared to act their part. They stated
that intelligence had arrived that the Tartars, with an immense army,
had commenced the invasion of Russia; that Boris alone was familiar
with the condition and resources of the empire, and with the details
of administration--that he was a veteran soldier, and that his
military genius and vigorous arm were requisite to beat back the foe.
These considerations were influential, and a deputation was chosen to
urge Boris, as he loved his country, to continue in power and accept
the scepter, which, as prime minister, he had so long successfully
wielded. Boris affected the most extreme reluctance. The populace of
Moscow, whose favor he had purchased, surrounded the convent in
crowds, and with vehemence, characteristic of their impulsive,
childish natures, threw themselves upon the ground, tore their hair,
beat their breasts, and declared that they would never return to their
homes unless Boris would consent to be their sovereign.
Pretending, at last, to be overcome by these entreaties, Boris
consented to raise and lead an army to repel the Tartars, and he
promised that should Providence prosper him in this enterprise, he
would regard it as an indication that it was the will of Heaven that
he should ascend the throne. He immediately called all his tremendous
energies into exercise, and in a few months collected an army, of the
nobles and of the militia, amounting to five hundred thousand men.
With great pomp he rode through the ranks of this mighty host,
receiving their enthusiastic applause. In that day, as neither
telegraphs, newspapers or stage-coaches existed, intelligence was
transmitted with difficulty, and very slowly. The story of the Tartar
invasion proved a sham. Boris had originated it to accomplish his
purposes. He amused and conciliated the soldiers with magnificent
parades, intimating that the Tartars, alarmed by his vast
preparations, had not dared to advance against him. A year's pay was
ordered for each one of the soldiers. The nobles received gratuities
and were entertained by the tzar in festivals, at which parties of ten
thousand, day after day, were feasted, during an interval of six
weeks. Boris then returned to Moscow. The people met him several miles
from the city, and conducted him in triumph to the Kremlin. He was
crowned, with great pomp, Emperor of Russia, on the 1st of September,
1577.
Boris watched, with an eagle eye, all those who could by any
possibility disturb his reign or endanger the permanence of the new
dynasty which he wished to establish. Some of the princes of the old
royal family were forbidden to marry; others were banished to Siberia.
The diadem, thus usurped, proved indeed a crown of thorns. That which
is founded in crime, can generally by crime alone be perpetuated. The
manners of the usurper were soon entirely altered. He had been
affable, easy of access, and very popular. But now he became haughty,
reserved and suspicious. Wishing to strengthen his dynasty by royal
alliances, he proposed the marriage of his daughter to Gustavus, son
of Eric XIV., King of Sweden. He accordingly invited Gustavus to
Moscow, making him pompous promises. The young prince was received
with magnificent display and loaded with presents. But there was soon
a falling out between Boris and his intended son-in-law, and the young
prince was dismissed in disgrace. He however succeeded in establishing
a treaty of peace with the Poles, which was to continue twenty years.
He also was successful in contracting an alliance for his daughter
Axinia, with Duke John of Denmark. The marriage was celebrated in
Moscow in 1602 with great splendor. But even before the marriage
festivities were closed, the duke was taken sick and died, to the
inexpressible disappointment of Boris.
The Turks from Constantinople sent an embassy to Moscow with rich
presents, proposing a treaty of friendship and alliance. But Boris
declined the presents and dismissed the embassadors, saying that he
could never be friendly to the Turks, as they were the enemies of
Christianity. Like many other men, he could trample upon the precepts
of the gospel, and yet be zealous of Christianity as a doctrinal code
or an institution.
A report was now circulated that the young Dmitri was still alive,
that his mother, conscious of the danger of his assassination, had
placed the prince in a position of safety, and that another child had
been assassinated in his stead. This rumor overwhelmed the guilty soul
of Boris with melancholy. His fears were so strongly excited, that
several nobles, who were supposed to be in the interests of the young
prince, were put to the rack to extort a confession. But no positive
information respecting Dmitri could be gained. The mother of Dmitri
was banished to an obscure fortress six hundred miles from Moscow.
The emissaries of Boris were everywhere busy to detect, if possible,
the hiding place of Dmitri. Intelligence was at length brought to the
Kremlin that two monks had escaped from a convent and had fled to
Poland, and that it was apprehended that one of them was the young
prince in disguise; it was also said that Weisnowiski, prince of Kief,
was protector of Dmitri, and, in concert with others, was preparing a
movement to place him upon the throne of his ancestors. Boris was
thrown into paroxysms of terror. Not knowing what else to do, he
franticly sent a party of Cossacks to murder Weisnowiski; but the
prince was on his guard, and the enterprise failed.
The question, "Have we a Bourbon among us?" has agitated the whole of
the United States. The question, "Have we a Dmitri among us?" then
agitated Russia far more intensely. It was a question of the utmost
practical importance, involving civil war and the removal of the new
dynasty for the restoration of the old. Whether the person said to be
Dmitri were really such, is a question which can now never be settled.
The monk Griska Utropeja, who declared himself to be the young prince,
sustained his claim with such an array of evidence as to secure the
support of a large portion of the Russians, and also the coöperation
of the court of Poland. The claims of Griska were brought up before
the Polish diet and carefully examined. He was then acknowledged by
them as the legitimate heir to the crown of Russia. An army was raised
to restore him to his ancestral throne. Sigismond, the King of Poland,
with ardor espoused his cause.
Boris immediately dispatched an embassy to Warsaw to remind Sigismond
of the treaty of alliance into which he had entered, and to insist
upon his delivering up the pretended Dmitri, dead or alive. A threat
was added to the entreaty: "If you countenance this impostor," said
Boris, "you will draw down upon you a war which you may have cause to
repent."
Sigismond replied, that though he had no doubt that Griska was truly
the Prince Dmitri, and, as such, entitled to the throne of Russia,
still he had no disposition personally to embark in the advocacy of
his rights; but, that if any of his nobles felt disposed to espouse
his claims with arms or money, he certainly should do nothing to
thwart them. The Polish nobles, thus encouraged, raised an army of
forty thousand men, which they surrendered to Griska. He, assuming the
name of Dmitri, placed himself at their head, and boldly commenced a
march upon Moscow. As soon as he entered the Russian territories many
nobles hastened to his banners, and several important cities declared
for him.
Boris was excessively alarmed. With characteristic energy he speedily
raised an army of two hundred thousand men, and then was in the utmost
terror lest this very army should pass over to the ranks of his foes.
He applied to Sweden and to Denmark to help him, but both kingdoms
refused. Dmitri advanced triumphantly, and laid siege to Novgorod on
the 21st of December, 1605. For five months the war continued with
varying success. Boris made every attempt to secure the assassination
of Griska, but the wary chieftain was on his guard, and all such
endeavors were frustrated. Griska at length decided to resort to the
same weapons. An officer was sent to the Kremlin with a feigned
account of a victory obtained over the troops of Dmitri. This officer
succeeded in mingling poison with the food of Boris. The drug was so
deadly that the usurper dropped and expired almost without a struggle
and without a groan.
As soon as Boris was dead, his widow, a woman of great ambition and
energy, lost not an hour in proclaiming the succession of her son,
Feodor. The officers of the army were promptly summoned to take the
oath of allegiance to the new sovereign. Feodor was but fifteen years
of age, a thoroughly spoilt boy, proud, domineering, selfish and
cruel. There was now a revolt in the army of the late tzar. Several of
the officers embraced the cause of Griska, declaring their full
conviction that he was the Prince Dmitri, and, they carried over to
his ranks a large body of the soldiers.
The defection of the army caused great consternation at court. The
courtiers, eager to secure the favor of the prince whose star was so
evidently in the ascendant, at once abandoned the hapless Feodor and
his enraged mother; and the halls of the Kremlin and the streets of
Moscow were soon resounding with the name of Dmitri. A proclamation
was published declaring general amnesty, and rich rewards to all who
should recognize and support the rights of their legitimate prince,
but that his opponents must expect no mercy. The populace immediately
rose in revolt against Feodor. They assailed the Kremlin. In a
resistless inundation they forced its gates, seized the young tzar,
with his mother, sister and other relatives, and hurried them all to
prison.
Dmitri was at Thula when he received intelligence of this revolution.
He immediately sent an officer, Basilius Galitzan, to Moscow to
receive the oath of fidelity of the city, and, at the same time, he
diabolically sent an assassin, one Ivan Bogdanoff, with orders to
strangle Feodor and his mother in the prison, but with directions not
to hurt his sister. Bogdanoff reluctantly executed his mission. On the
15th of July, 1605, Dmitri made his triumphal entry into Moscow. He
was received with all the noisy demonstrations of public rejoicing,
and, on the 29th of July, was crowned, with extraordinary grandeur,
Emperor of all the Russias.
The ceremonies of the triumphal entrance are perhaps worthy of record.
A detachment of Polish horse in brilliant uniform led the procession,
headed by a numerous band of trumpeters. Then came the gorgeous coach
of Dmitri, empty, drawn by six horses, richly caparisoned, and
preceded, followed and flanked by dense columns of musqueteers. Next
came a procession of the clergy in their ecclesiastical robes, and
with the banners of the church. This procession was led by the
bishops, who bore effigies of the Virgin Mary and of St. Nicholas, the
patron saint of Russia. Following the clergy appeared Dmitri, mounted
on a white charger, and surrounded by a splendid retinue. He proceeded
first to the church of Notre Dame, where a Te Deum was chanted, and
where the new monarch received the sacrament. He then visited the tomb
of Ivan IV., and kneeling upon it, as the tomb of his father, implored
God's blessing. Perceiving that the body of Boris Gudenow had received
interment in the royal cemetery, he ordered his remains, with those of
his wife and son, all three of whom Dmitri had caused to be
assassinated, to be removed to a common churchyard without the city.
Either to silence those who might doubt his legitimacy or being truly
the son of Ivan IV., he sent two of the nobles, with a brilliant
retinue, to the convent, more than six hundred miles from Moscow, to
which Boris had banished the widow of Ivan. They were to conduct the
queen dowager to the capital. As she approached the city, Dmitri went
out to receive her, accompanied by a great number of his nobles. As
soon as he perceived her coach, he alighted, went on foot to meet his
alleged mother, and threw himself into her arms with every
demonstration of joy and affection, which embraces she returned with
equal tenderness. Then, with his head uncovered, and walking by the
side of her carriage, he conducted her to the city and to the Kremlin.
He ever after treated her with the deference due to a mother, and
received from her corresponding proofs of confidence and affection.
But Dmitri was thoroughly a bad man, and every day became more
unpopular. He debauched the young sister of Feodor, and then shut her
up in a convent. He banished seventy noble families who were accused
of being the friends of Boris, and gave their estates and dignities to
his Polish partisans. A party was soon organized against him, who
busily circulated reports that he was an impostor, and a conspiracy
was formed to take his life. Perplexities and perils now gathered
rapidly around his throne. He surrounded himself with Polish guards,
and thus increased the exasperation of his subjects.
To add to his perplexities, another claimant of the crown appeared,
who declared himself to be the son of the late tzar, Feodor, son of
Ivan IV. This young man, named Peter, was seventeen years of age. He
had raised his standard on the other side of the Volga, and had
rallied four thousand partisans around him. In the meantime, Dmitri
had made arrangements for his marriage with Mariana Meneiski, a Polish
princess, of the Roman church. This princess was married to the tzar
by proxy, in Cracow, and in January, 1606, with a numerous retinue set
out on her journey to Moscow. She did not reach the capital of Moscow
until the 1st of May. Her father's whole family, and several thousand
armed Polanders, by way of guard, accompanied her. Many of the Polish
nobles also took this opportunity of visiting Russia, and a multitude
of merchants put themselves in her train for purposes of traffic.
The tzarina was met, at some distance from Moscow, by the royal guard,
and escorted to the city, where she was received with ringing of
bells, shoutings, discharge of cannons and all the ordinary and
extraordinary demonstrations of popular joy. On the 8th of May, the
ceremony of blessing the marriage was performed by the patriarch, and
immediately after she was crowned tzarina with greater pomp than
Russia had ever witnessed before. But the appearance of this immense
train of armed Poles incensed the Russians; and the clergy, who were
jealous of the encroachments of the church of Rome, were alarmed in
behalf of their religion. An intrepid noble, Zuski, now resolved, by
the energies of a popular insurrection, to rid the throne of Dmitri.
With great sagacity and energy the conspiracy was formed. The tzarina
was to give a grand entertainment on the evening of the 17th of May,
and the conspirators fixed upon that occasion for the consummation of
their plan. Twenty thousand troops were under the orders of Zuski, and
he had led them all into the city, under the pretense of having them
assist in the festival.
At six o'clock in the morning of the appointed day these troops,
accompanied by some thousands of the populace, surrounded the palace
and seized its gates. A division was then sent in, who commenced the
indiscriminate massacre of all who were, or who looked like Polanders.
It was taken for granted that all in the palace were either Poles or
their partisans. The alarm bells were now rung, and Zuski traversed
the streets with a drawn saber in one hand and a cross in the other,
rousing the ignorant populace by the cry that the Poles had taken up
arms to murder the Russians. Dmitri, in his chamber, hearing the
cries of the dying and the shrieks of those who fled before the
assassins, leaped from his window into the court yard, and, by his
fall, dislocated his thigh. He was immediately seized, conveyed into
the grand hall of audience, and a strong guard was set over him.
The murderers ransacked the palace, penetrating every room, killing
every Polish man and treating the Polish ladies with the utmost
brutality. They inquired eagerly for the tzarina, but she was nowhere
to be found. She had concealed herself beneath the hoop of an elderly
lady whose gray hairs and withered cheek had preserved her from
violence. Zuski now went to the dowager tzarina, the widow of Ivan
IV., and demanded that she should take her oath upon the Gospels
whether Dmitri were her son. He reported that, thus pressed, she
confessed that he was an impostor, and that her true son had perished
many years before. The conspirators now fell upon Dmitri and his body
was pierced with a thousand dagger thrusts. His mangled remains were
then dragged through the streets and burned. Mariana was soon after
arrested and sent to prison. It is said that nearly two thousand Poles
perished in this massacre.
Even to the present day opinion is divided in Russia in regard to
Dmitri, whether he was an impostor or the son of Ivan IV. Respecting
his character there is no dispute. All that can be said in his favor
is that he would not commit an atrocious crime unless impelled to it
by very strong temptation. There was now no one who seemed to have any
legitimate title to the throne of Russia.
The nobles and the senators who were at Moscow then met to proceed to
the election of a new sovereign. It was an event almost without a
parallel in Russian history. The lords, though very friendly in their
deliberations, found it difficult to decide into whose hands to
intrust the scepter. It was at last unanimously concluded to make an
appeal to the people. Their voice was for Zuski. He was accordingly
declared tzar and was soon after crowned with a degree of unanimity
which, though well authenticated, seems inexplicable.
The Poles were exasperated beyond measure at the massacre of so many
of their nobles and at the insult offered to Mariana, the tzarina. But
Poland was at that time distracted by civil strife, and the king found
it expedient to postpone the hour of vengeance. Zuski commenced his
reign by adopting measures which gave him great popularity with the
adjoining kingdoms, while they did not diminish the favorable regards
of the people. But suddenly affairs assumed a new aspect, so strange
that a writer of fiction would hardly have ventured to imagine it. An
artful man, a schoolmaster in Poland, who could speak the Russian
language, declared that he was Dmitri; that he had escaped from the
massacre in his palace, and that it was another man, mistaken for him,
whom the assassins had killed. Poland, inspired by revenge, eagerly
embraced this man's cause. Mariana, who had been liberated from
prison, was let into the secret, and willing to ascend again to the
grandeur from which she had fallen, entered with cordial coöperation
into this new intrigue. The widowed tzarina and the Polish adventurer
contrived their first meeting in the presence of a large concourse of
nobles and citizens. They rushed together in a warm embrace, while
tears of affected transport bedewed their cheeks. The farce was so
admirably performed that many were deceived, and this new Dmitri and
the tzarina occupied for several days the same tent in the Polish
encampment, apparently as husband and wife.