One of the illustrious successors of Iaroslaf the Great upon the throne
of Kief, was his grandson Vladimir, grandson also of the Greek emperor
Constantine Monomachus, whose surname he bore;[A] a man of wisdom, of
valor, and of integrity—a singular instance of elevation of character
in an age and among a people but partly emerged from barbarism. He
waited long for his right to rule, having respect to the national law
that gave precedence to the oldest member of the deceased sovereign’s
family. “His father was older than mine, and reigned first in Kief,”
he said, deferring to his cousin Sviatopolk Isiaslavitch.[B] Certain
of Monomakh’s kinsmen had been wrongfully deprived of their lands by
Vsevolod and Isiaslaf, respectively father and uncle of Monomakh. The
latter accepted Tchernigof as his share of the spoil; for beyond the
right of the strongest, no right was seriously considered in the Russia
of that age. Oleg, one of the injured princes, called the Polovtsui
barbarians to his aid, and harried the lands of those who had robbed
him. Monomakh, moved by the distress of the people, offered to restore
the wrested lands that had fallen to his share. To his efforts was due
the assembling of the more powerful princes in Congress at Lübetch
(1090), on the Dnieper, to effect means for the suppression of the
civil wars that afflicted the realm. Seated on a carpet, the princes
drew up a treaty, each prince taking oath and kissing the cross, as
he declared that thereafter “the Russian land shall be held sacred
and dear, as the country of us all. Whoso shall dare to arm himself
against his brother, becomes our common enemy.” As nearly as is known,
this treaty is the first written assertion of the unity that was
incipient in the administration of Ruric, that took form and strength
from the administrations of Vladimir and Iaroslaf, and that has been
steadily developing through a thousand years of national existence: a
unity that holds in an apparently inviolable bond a hundred tribes and
nationalities.
The good faith of the members of the congress was soon put to the test
by David, Prince of Volhynia, who made war upon his nephews, Vasilko
and Volodar, to whom the assembled princes had apportioned certain
lands, coveted by their uncle. The latter went to Sviatapolk, Grand
Prince of Kief—for Vladimir Monomakh had not yet come to his throne—and
represented that Vasilko had designs upon Sviatapolk’s lands and life.
The latter lent an ear to David’s calumnies, and joined with him in a
plot to seize the person of Vasilko. The youth in fetters was brought
before an assembly of Kievan boyars (nobles) and citizens, to be
sentenced as the enemy of their prince. To this arrangement the boyars
replied with embarrassment: “Prince, thy tranquillity is ours, and
it is dear to us. If Vasilko is thine enemy, he merits death; but if
David has calumniated him, God will avenge upon David the blood of the
innocent.” Sviatapolk hesitating to do violence to the youth, delivered
him to his uncle, who wickedly burned out his eyes. The crime aroused
the wrath of Monomakh, and of the other kinsmen of the victim. These
formed an alliance, in which Sviatapolk was compelled to join, for the
punishment of David, who fled first to the Poles, and later to the
Hungarians, but was ultimately deprived of his principality.
Monomakh conducted successful wars against the Polovtsui, the
Petchenegs, the Torki, the Tcherkessi, and other pagan nomads. In one
engagement with the Polovtsui, seventeen of their chiefs were among
the captured or the slain. One of the khans offered enormous ransom,
but the prince refused the gold, and cut the khan in pieces. These
khans were brigands, who subsisted on the booty obtained from the
Russian merchants and travelers. Monomakh deeply felt these injuries
to his Christian subjects, nor would he treat with princes who kindled
civil wars. To the end of his days he remained “the guardian of the
Russian lands.” In his reign, the Slavs were established in Suzdal, and
founded there a city called in his honor, Vladimir; a city of renown in
the subsequent history of the empire. The magnanimity of this prince
was shown in his giving refuge to the remnant of the Kazarui.[C] In
the construction of fortifications and other buildings, and in other
industrial arts, these people were more skilled than their conquerors.
They had also numbers of flourishing schools. In the seventh century
their empire included the regions of the lower Dnieper, the Don, the
lower Volga, the shores of the Caspian and Azof seas; an area of
765,000 square miles.
The commercial importance of this empire gave it high rank in
Byzantium, Arabia, and other Mohammedan countries, these being the only
civilized states of the world in that era.
The paper of instructions left by Monomakh, for his sons, indicates the
moral superiority of this half-barbaric prince. As early as his day,
monasticism had become a recognized element of the national life. But
he wrote: “Neither solitude nor fasting, nor the monastic vocation will
procure for you the life eternal. Well doing alone will help you in
this world, and be put to your credit for the next. Do not bury your
riches in the earth”—a custom still practiced in Russia—“for that is
contrary to the precepts of Christianity. Judge yourselves the cause of
widows, and extend a fatherly protection to orphans. Put to death no
one, not even the guilty; for the most sacred thing our God has made
is a Christian soul.... Strive continually to get knowledge; and when
you have learned aught that is useful, put it away carefully in your
memory. Without ever leaving his palace, my father Vsevolod spoke five
languages. This ability to learn foreign tongues, foreigners admire in
us.... I have made altogether twenty-three campaigns, without counting
some lesser ones. With the Polovtsui I have concluded nineteen treaties
of peace, have taken at least a hundred of their princes prisoners,
and have restored them their liberty; besides more than two hundred
whom I threw into the rivers. No one has traveled more rapidly than I.
If I left Tchernigof early in the morning, I arrived at Kief before
vespers.” The distance between the two cities is eighty miles. The
Russians are rapid travelers to this day. “Sometimes amidst sombre
forests I caught wild horses, tied them together, and subdued them.
How often have I been thrown from the saddle by buffalos, thrust at
by deer, trampled upon by elands! A furious boar once tore my sword
from its belt. A bear threw my horse, and rent my saddle. In my
youth how often did I narrowly escape death, when, thrown from my
horse, I received many wounds! But the Lord watched over me.” Such
was the Russian hero-prince of the eleventh century,—valiant, hardy,
magnanimous, pious; a sovereign whose duty did not permit him to repose
on rose leaves.
The regalia that, according to a tradition circulated by the tsars
of Moscow, belonged to their illustrious Kievan ancestor, is still
preserved in the museum of the former city. It consists of a “bonnet”
or crown, and collar of Byzantine elegance; with them is a throne and
a cornelian cup, the latter said to have belonged to the Roman emperor
Augustus. According to the tradition, the whole were gifts from the
Greek emperor to his Russian kinsman, sent by the Bishop of Ephesus,
who, in solemn state, crowned Monomakh sovereign of all Russia. The
legend is an invention for the interest of the Muscovite tsars, but
the crown and collar are still used at the ceremony of coronation:
the collar representing the burden imposed upon him whose “shoulders”
receive the weight of government. The first manifesto of the present
tsar alludes to this painful “perilous burden.”
_CHAPTER VI._