Peter The Great, of Orange. Usurper on the Throne

Everyone was getting ready to leave, but Fyodor Yuryevich nodded to Boris Alekseevich. He understood everything. Meanwhile, the owner of the house saw off the guests, and Golitsyn’s sleeping bag Senka led him to the small room, or, in the new version, to Romodanovsky’s study.

The guest looked with curiosity at the paintings and engravings on the walls, at the globe made by the Dutch master van Meer, at the bookcase with books in Latin.

– What, Boris Alekseevich, are you admiring my wealth? – Romodanovsky began the conversation right away.

– Not a bad, sensible library. Everything is in Latin.

– So, read in Russian, nothing has been published. We are not doing business with you.

– That’s true, – and Golitsyn’s gaze became sad, – and we’re lagging behind Europe in such matters…

– And here’s another thing… The Streltsy are marching on Moscow, and gathering a militia. Things are bad. Our forces are few, and if help comes to them, then a terrible mess will ensue.They seem to have found out that Peter is now German, and want to put Alexei Petrovich on the throne

– They’ve gotten carried away, Fyodor Yuryevich, with these intrigues. Who of Ivan Alexeevich’s close stewards poisoned him? What was the point of doing that? And these, in revenge, gave Peter poison.

– It’s too late to look for the guilty, Boris Alexeevich. You are as wise as a snake, tell us, and we’ll do it!

– We need to deceive them, we’ll write a letter on behalf of the Tula Cossack policemen, their ataman Chertkov, saying, we’re coming to help, wait three days.

Romodanovsky perked up, his face brightened. Only Prince Golitsyn could have come up with such a trick, he is very smart and very well read…

– It is a tricky matter, but it can be done… I have a serf in mind, a smart one, he will pass on the letter…

It was obvious that Boris was pleased. But, unexpectedly for Romodanovsky, he took off the ring with the stone.

– As it will not work later, Fyodor Yuryevich, we do not need an eavesdropper. The poison takes effect in five days.

– And you yourself are not afraid that you too…

And after thinking, he took a bottle of his favorite Italian wine from the cabinet, opened it and poured it into an empty decanter, leaving the noble drink to settle,

– Yes, my father accustomed me to poisons using the Italian method. Now nothing will work on me. I have become like Tsar Mithrilates Evpator, – Golitsyn expressed himself very intricately.

– Why do you, my little prince, respect only foreign wisdom, but disdain Russian?

– I respect the Russian faith, German prudence and Turkish loyalty, – Golitsyn said slowly.

– Yeah… Well, we’re not very loyal, but look, I have all the samples of the seals… Here’s the seal of the Tula police Cossacks… Sit down next to me, Boris Alekseevich, we’ll start composing together…

Soon the little letter was ready, and the two nobles were sitting in armchairs, enjoying the taste of fine wine.

– And how’s the canal going, from the Volga to the Don? – Romodanovsky couldn’t resist and teased his interlocutor, who seemed to him to be overly smart.

– We’re building, everything’s in business… Well, where’s your messenger?

– Right now… – and Romodanovsky rang the bell.

Senka came and bowed as he should. The sly fellow made a face, again ingratiatingly smart. – Bring Gavrila here… – whispered Fyodor Yuryevich, and coughed

The servant left, and the prince found a simple wooden bowl on the shelf. Golitsyn only grinned, looking at the excitement of the owner of the house.

– Burn the bowl later… – said the guest.

– Will he suffer greatly?

– And what about you? A serf is a serf?

– So the Christian soul…

– He will die in his sleep. From suffocation. He will suffocate.

Fyodor Yuryevich was sometimes surprised by Boris Alekseevich, his inhumanity. As if there were not people around, but clay dolls. He took and broke. Changed his mind – once and glued it back together. He could not do it like that, he suffered all the time, reproached himself endlessly. And this one, it seems, did not bother at all.

– What shall we do with the archers?

– We’ll execute the ringleaders, send the simple riflemen to Siberia, and garrison Tobolsk. There are few troops there. And instead of them we’ll recruit surplus men for the soldier regiments, – Golitsyn reasoned sensibly. While the boyars were talking quietly, there was a quiet knock at the door, and a servant was pushed into the office. He bowed and remained standing, like a pillar by the road. – Gavrila?

– Yes, Prince-father…

– So, Gavrila, do me a favor… Take this letter to the Streltsy, they are camped at the Novodevichy Convent. Do your best… Here, two efimki for your efforts. Senka praises you, saying that you are a good worker, you prove it…

– So what should I say? What do you want, father?

– You will say that you are from Tula, a man of the ataman of the fodder Cossacks Chertkov, you will give the letter to their leader. Got it all? If you do everything right, you will receive five rubles! You will get a horse from my stable. Hurry, Gavrila, it is urgent! – Romodanovsky finally said, the words stuck in his throat.

– And you should drink some wine before you go. The prince has come, – Golitsyn moved a wooden bowl of wine closer.

The serf did not try to deny it, but drank it all down in a flash, and decently wiped his moustache and beard with his palm. He bowed and left the office. Romodanovsky sighed heavily and said what was on his mind:

– It is still unclear. Who is at the head of the rebellion? Who is from the boyars?

***

– Who is that? – and the strelets grabbed the horse by the bridle.

And his four comrades quickly grabbed their spears and halberds, approaching the rider. He almost fainted, but came to his senses in time.

– So I was sent from Tula, here is a letter, – the messenger answered.

– Indeed, – the strelets read, snatching the letter from his hand, – get off, don’t hesitate!

He almost slid off his horse, but trudged after his guide. Another archer urged the messenger on by poking him in the ribs with the spear shaft.

– Oh, stop it, it hurts, – the man complained.

– Who are you? – the archer asked.

– Well, I’m one of Ataman Chertkov’s people, Gavrila. He’s serving in Tula, and I’m with him.

– And what about your Ataman?

– Well, I don’t know… Here, he sent me. He promised a reward, five rubles. – Look at you, five rubles? Let’s go, you’ll answer for it right now. And if you lie, you’ll taste the hot iron.

– What about me? The Orthodox… – the messenger begged.

Soon Gavrila was brought to the carts placed in a circle for protection. The Strelets gave the letter to the policeman, who looked at the seal and simply brightened up.

– A big deal… – and quickly read the message, – Strelets! – the policeman shouted, – Ataman Chertkov asks to wait three days, so that he and his regiment can come to us.

– Then it would be better to go to Tula ourselves. There are plenty of provisions and fodder there, we’ll wait for the Cossacks and then go to Moscow!

– And send a letter to the Don asking for help!

– We’ll send letters, that’s a sure thing, – the sergeant said. – But the colonel asks us to wait here. Otherwise, we might miss the Cossacks on the road. And, you know, we’ve been promised help.

– And where are those boyar children? They have no troops, – the strelets noted.

– You speak correctly, Darkness, – his comrade supported his comrade.

So they talked, but decided to wait for help here, at the Novodevichy Convent.

***

Only on the second day, at night, did the reiters and dragoons attack the strelets and capture them all. The next morning, Generalissimo Shein himself arrived in a gilded carriage to look at the rebellious strelets. He walked slowly between the rows, frowning at everyone. He just sighed and groaned, remembering the old days and campaigns. He looked and counted how many people there were.

– Where are the rest? – he shouted into the crowd.

– So we stayed at the border. We came to demand our wages. Nothing has been paid for three years! – shouted one of the riflemen.

– What!?? Rebel! – shouted Shein, furious at the answer, – who is the manufacturer? Who decided to go to Moscow?

– So we went for food. We were very hungry, poor…

– Don’t lie! Don’t you dare! I’ll beat you all up!

The clerks of the Robbery Department began to conduct a search here, began to flog the riflemen, but did not find out anything. Everything was incomprehensible, and the generalissimo was furious. They brought out the most spirited ones and hanged them as a warning. The rest were sent under guard to monasteries, to undergo strict penance, to atone for their sins. That was the end of it.

Peter in Vienna. Secret meetings

Lying in a carriage and sleeping was a very unusual thing for Peter. He had heard of something like this, but he had never seen it. On the ship, on his favorite brig, it didn’t rock like that, but you could get used to it. He almost fell over in his sleep a couple of times, and began to use belts. So the Tsar of Russia shook in a dormeuse to Vienna.

The entrance was rather mundane, as if turnips had been brought to the city from the vegetable gardens. No procession, no flowers, no enthusiastic burghers. The cavalcade rode to the outskirts of the city, where a small palace had been handed over to the Russians.

– They are receiving us badly, Franz, – said Peter, – as if we were not the sovereign of a great country, but one of the princes, or even worse.

– Oh, what are you saying, Your Majesty, – muttered Lefort, taking out his snuffbox with an elegant gesture.

The elegant Swiss was handsome, had the manners of a prince of the blood, and looked great. Peter only sighed heavily, trying to restrain himself.

– The note was passed on, – Peter began to read, – the Tsar will come at night, through a secret gate. He wants to talk face to face.

– European politics, Peter, no need to worry. Everything is very subtle, on half-hints, – Lefort reassured, – the Tsar is cunning, does not want to promise anything.

– There was not even an official meeting. My portrait is now kept in London, by the Elector of Prussia, as if for identification. But we will see what it is, – and Peter blushed with anger.

***

Several days passed. Preparations for the ball were underway in the palace for the guests. Musicians arrived in several carriages. Vans brought tables, dishes, wine. The footmen of the court began to bring everything into a divine appearance.

Guests whom Peter had not invited began to arrive for dinner. But he stood at the front door, greeting the nobles, dressed in silk and velvet, and their wives, shining in luxurious dresses and bare shoulders. In the hall, behind him, the orchestra played a minuet. The music raised the mood of the guest king, and even more so – the abundance of beautiful ladies. One of them, dressed in silver brocade, smiled at him so sweetly, and bowed so enticingly that the former pirate simply thawed in his soul. He held the lady by her thin fingers, and did not want to let go of the luxurious captive.

– I am very glad to see you, – Peter finally said in a muffled voice.

– Thank you, your grace, – the lady answered, lowering her eyes, – Charlotte Visbur, – she gave her name.

The lady turned out to be very smart, and stood slightly behind the giant. But, nevertheless, it seemed that she was the mistress of the house, and Peter liked it even more.

Well, to the guests, the Russian Tsar seemed almost a giant, a northern Cyclops, meeting them at his cave, fortunately, not very scary. And next to him stood a beautiful nymph, reviving this almost demonic ensemble.

Finally, the obligatory ritual was completed, and Peter touched Charlotte’s hand and led her into the hall. Menshikov, like a faithful squire, followed behind.

The majordomo slapped his cane on the floor, the musicians began to bring out a melody for the dance. Peter and Charlotte walked in front of the dancers.

– How should I address you, your grace, – the lady asked, smiling slightly.

– Herr Peter, – the giant answered, grinning into his moustache.

Incidentally, to the surprise of Madame Visbourg, this Muscovite was skilled in plaisir, that is, he moved very gracefully, and did not step on her elegant brocade slippers with his shoes.

Then everyone was called to the table. In a word, having broken the hopes of the Austrian nobles for Russian exoticism, the treat on the dishes was prepared according to French recipes. The footmen skillfully and quickly distributed the dishes to those present. And behind Peter stood, probably, the tallest of them.

The first toast, of course, was for Caesar Leopold, and the second – for his Russian guests, although the title of the tsar was not mentioned. Peter’s face darkened with anger, but he restrained himself. The cunning Lefort made signs, trying to restrain his rage. And the graceful Charlotte calmed the pirate’s violent temper with her presence.

– Min hertz, – he heard Menshikov whisper behind him, – you are asked… Important guests…

– Right now, Aleksashka. Charlotte, I have to step aside… I will definitely return…

They quickly walked along the corridor, past the guard of the Tsar’s guards. And, in a small office, at a simple table sat a gentleman, his face hidden by a half-mask. Judging by the brocade waistcoat, decorated with an order ribbon, the man was very noble.

– This way, min hertz. Don’t worry, I’ll stand behind the door, I have a couple of pistols…

Peter grinned, closed the door and sat down opposite the mysterious guest. He was silent for a while, expecting the stranger to speak first. And so it happened.

– I am glad to have my guest, the Tsar of Moscow…

– The Tsar of All Rus’, – Peter corrected. – I have to hide my face, there are many ill-wishers of your presence in Vienna. The city is full of rumors from Russia, in Moscow they say that there is an impostor on the throne…

– The ambassadors confirmed my identity…

– Yes, without a doubt, my brother, – Leopold seemed to correct himself, – but in Russia there is a rebellion, and some kind of disorder…

– A bunch of malcontents, a common thing in any state…

– Of course, of course, my brother Peter. And we are in an alliance against Turkey, and I hope that the agreement is strong?

– Without a doubt, my brother Leopold.

– But I heard that you met with William of Orange, and he, of course, spoke to you about the need for a war with Sweden. He wants to deprive France of an ally…

– Ingria and Karelia, the old Russian lands will have to be reconquered.

– Still, a war with Turkey is a necessity, albeit a difficult one for both Austria and Russia. I would like to strengthen our agreement by creating a marriage union between your son Alexei and my relative Louise, Princess of Württemberg.

– Without a doubt, I will be glad of this. When both reach the right age, my brother! – and Peter gave a forced and forced laugh.

The pirate was not stupid. They made it clear to him here that they knew he was not the real Peter, but were ready to tolerate this until Alexei came of age. And they were ready to stand up for the rights of the underage prince to the throne. Moreover, they respect nobility strictly, so much so that they consider him their equal, wanting to marry the princess to Alexei Petrovich.

– However, I heard that you are going to make peace with the Turks. Since we are in an honest alliance, I ask you to take care of the city of Kerch for Russia.

– My brother Peter, the Turks do not give up fortresses, they must be taken back by force. So you still have many battles with the Turks ahead of you.And we heard in Vienna that in Moscow there was another rebellion against your majesty. The Streltsy do not recognize your person, this is very bad…

The face of the Tsar became hard, and his smile was simply terrible. Caesar Leopold had seen a lot, but now he was truly frightened. And he was glad that his face was hidden by a mask. He left the guest and disappeared behind a secret door.

Peter did not immediately come to his senses. Then the evening began to spin as if by itself, and he seemed to become an observer, and saw everything as if in a dream. He did not wake up even in the hot embrace of Charlotte, with whom he indulged in one of the rooms of the palace until the morning.

Waking up was difficult, Peter rubbed his face with cold water for a long time, poured himself from a jug given by Alexashka.

– That’s it, we’ve stayed long enough, we’re going to Moscow, – he ordered, wiping himself with a sheet.

– So you were going to Venice? – the orderly reminded him, – to see the ships, the canals?

– They said, to Moscow… And with great haste… We need to figure everything out!

PART 3 The Tsar and the Grand Duke of All Rus’

The Tsar has returned

Fyodor Yuryevich stood at the service in the Assumption Cathedral. The bishop was thoughtfully reading a sermon, fragrant incense was smoking in the censer, and its clouds, with each wave of the minister, rose to the dome of the church, where Jesus Christ himself was depicted. The Almighty looked at the worshipers with stern eyes, as if promising them new and difficult trials. God was not merciful these days, he only exacted heavy punishment from people.

The prince-Caesar sighed deeply and crossed himself, looking at the holy icons. Beauty and tranquility, that is what Romodanovsky craved, but he did not deserve it.

A candle burned in his well-groomed hand, as did the other boyars standing near the iconostasis. All this allowed him not to think about business. The shipyard in Voronezh, the Azov and Taganrog fortresses, and also the recruitment of dragoon regiments, which, fortunately, Prince Golitsyn took upon himself.

– Father, – the omnipresent Senka whispered in his ear, – a messenger is waiting for you, very urgently… From the Ambassadorial Prikaz…

– Let him wait… There’s not much left. And if he starts making noise, give him a whip…

As soon as the boyar said that, his soul felt lighter. As if he had thrown out the heaviness and fear. Yes, the damned fear had been sitting in his soul since the hour Pyotr Alekseevich died, and they had decided on this foreigner… And he couldn’t really fall asleep, he was tormented by terrible dreams. Sometimes Pyotr seemed like this, sometimes like that, sometimes he came as a dead man. Or he’ll come, sit down near the bed, and keep quiet…

Finally, the service ended, and Fyodor Yuryevich slowly began to move towards the exit of the cathedral. Avtomon Golovin passed by, but Boris Alekseevich Golitsyn stayed close, such a sly fellow.True, Senka noticed, he understood that the serf had not just showed up at the Assumption Cathedral.

– But business, business, Boris Alekseevich won’t let me go, – Romodanovsky decided to explain to Golitsyn.

– That’s our service, at the state. And sometimes we don’t get enough sleep, and sometimes we don’t get enough food.

Fyodor Yuryevich remained silent, only grinning into his thick mustache. Boris Alekseevich loved to express himself floridly. Together they went out to the steps of the cathedral. Then the messenger appeared, handed over the letter with the hanging seals.

The prince-caesar unfolded the letter, read the first few words of the message, his heart sank, and his knees weakened disgustingly.

– In a day he will arrive in Preobrazhenskoye. All seven of us must gather,,,

Golitsyn turned to the domes of the church, bowed for a long time and crossed himself.

A Date in Preobrazhenskoye

Peter sat and looked out the carriage window at the villages, as if floating past them, along a narrow road. The unusual clothes of the inhabitants, which he had seen before only in engravings, were strange, but it seemed comfortable. The horses were smaller than the Dutch ones, but it seemed that the inhabitants kept a lot of draft animals.

The houses were completely different, unlike the beloved Dutch ones. Here even a poor peasant had a house made of thick logs, but not all had glass windows.

But the expanses of Russia were fascinating. And what was even more surprising was that everywhere, for many miles from Novgorod to the suburbs of Moscow, they spoke the same language! In his small and sweet Holland, too, but in the principalities of Germany and France, he firmly knew, there was no such thing at all. The Provencal and the Parisian expressed themselves differently, and even more so the Mecklenburger and the Bavarian. He got used to the cabbage soup and the bathhouse here, but he carried with him a whole supply of various cheeses, without which he could not exist. So he kept thinking, recalling from the drawings the faces of his close boyars, his wife, Tsarina Avdotya, the generals of his army – Golovin, Gordon.

– Min hertz, and when are you going to grow a beard? – Menshikov asked casually and smiled impudently, as always.

– Go to hell, – was the short and succinct answer, – or I’ll punch you in the face.

The orderly did not specify where to look for the devil’s abode. He himself knew or sensed where to look. And he did not want to get a strong fist in the face. But the Dutchman also fell silent, and for some reason ran his hand over his clean-shaven face. He took out a small album and began to study the faces of his noblemen. So far, from pencil drawings. – Who is the most cunning of them all? – Peter finally asked. – Well, you probably won’t find anyone more cunning than Boris Alekseevich Golitsyn. He’s such a smart guy. Well read, very capable… The most businesslike of them, of course, is Fyodor Yuryevich Romodanovsky. Lev Kirillych Naryshkin loves money, owns ironworks in Tula. Your relatives are the Lopukhins. Fyodor is cunning, he’ll understand everything… And so the Seven Close Boyars are the Council. Andrei Ivanovich Golitsyn, the palace governor, Buturlin Ivan, Romodanovsky Mikhail Grigorievich, a famous and intelligent general. Here they are now, waiting, they will give you the conditions to sign… But you, my dear, don’t give a damn about them, do something more cunning…

And Aleksashka quietly whispered something in the ear of the new sovereign, and he smiled, praising himself in his mind.

– Only one thing will not be allowed to happen to you – if you try to remove Aleksei Petrovich from the throne, – Menshikov said seriously.

– Everyone has already warned me about that, not only you, liberal Aleksashka. And very clearly, so that it would get through right away, – and Peter laughed gutturally and angrily.

Menshikov sighed, glanced sideways at the tsar a little, and thought, but weren’t the boyars mistaken, that they pumped such an eroy around their necks and the whole of Rus’? And how are they going to manage him? It’s like getting a wild cat at home. Such a man, if not in his way, would beat his masters to death…

***

The first to stop was the carriage from which General Lefort, Golovkin and the clerk Voznitsyn got out. They passed the guard of Prebrazhentsi, who saluted them smartly.

– And it’s time for us to go, my dear…

– And what about the things?

– Don’t worry, sir. You are the Tsar of All Rus’. The serfs will carry everything.It‘s none of your business, none of the Tsar’s!

Pyotr stared at Menshikov with his round eyes and only shrugged. Alexashka knew that the Tsar was angry, but not very much. Near the gates everything was clean and tidy, the road was paved with stones, and that was the Tsar’s palace.

Pyotr walked with a quick and confident step, leaning on his cane. Suddenly a pair of guardsmen, without saying a word, crossed the butts of their fusils in front of him.

– Strangers are not allowed… – the Preobrazhensky’s voice sounded sternly.

Menshikov was dumbfounded… Lefort, the Swiss – oh bastard, the service is lost! And what now? Well, everything turned out differently..:

Peter, without saying a word, knocked both soldiers to the ground with two blows of his fist, so that their hats and guns flew to the sides.

– You should know the Tsar by sight! – he said loudly to the dumbfounded sergeant, – but thank you for the service! Strangers have no business in my palace!

And Peter put six chervonets into the Preobrazhensky’s hand, for the entire guard of guards.