Peter The Great, of Orange. Usurper on the Throne

– But why are you standing there, frozen, Alexashka? They are waiting for us, let’s go!

Now the Tsar spoke only in Russian, though with a slightly incorrect pronunciation. The orderly was surprised at this man. He did not lose his presence of mind at all. He did not know what to do now, but this one – only stamped his steps firmly. Suddenly he turned around, glanced at the soldiers as if deciding something important.

– Take me, Alexashka, to the Preobrazhensky and Semyonovsky. And take my money box. An important matter is being started.

– Got it, my dear. How could I not understand?

Menshikov also appreciated this move of the new Peter. Clever. of course… As they say, everyone loves money…

The regiments were lined up in rows, and the tsar personally, not shying away from the servicemen, went around to each one and presented them all with silver efimki. Now the guardsmen recognized the tsar, and agreed that he was the true sovereign of Rus’.

– Soldiers! Line up at the Preobrazhensky Palace and wait for me there! Do not disperse until I return! – he gave a stern order. Peter returned now not as a lonely wanderer, but as a true commander and leader, behind whom there was real power. And power is not weak words, but proud strength.And strength is based on people who are ready to fight for the leader, and do whatever he orders.

He was proud of himself, and smiled contentedly. A man with strength, this impresses everyone, and the servants immediately recognized who was the boss in the house. And there was not a single attempt at resistance, or even doubt!

Then the bedchamber attendants came running, hastily opened the doors, and the most important of them, apparently the bedchamber attendant, walked ahead of Peter, throwing the doors open. He was agile. and somehow especially deftly bent down, never hitting the low doorframes. The guide threw open the double-leaf carved doors, and bowed low, very low. Peter turned to Menshikov and said loudly and clearly:

– Wait for me here!

Boyars at the Tsar’s Throne

A portal into the unknown opened before him. In front of him, on a small elevation, stood a throne decorated with a double-headed eagle. The walls were richly painted, and there were low benches on which sat the Seven. Seven long-awaited nobles who had invited him to the Russian throne. He was not used to doubting, and he walked past them with a quick step and sat on the throne of the largest Christian monarchy in the world.

He expected something incredible, but neither the earth opened up to swallow the stranger, nor did lightning burn him, revealing the power of Providence. Nothing like that. Seven pairs of surprised eyes of people dressed in rich brocade coats trimmed with fur simply looked at him. Finally, he stood up and spoke, whom Peter recognized as Fyodor Yuryevich Romodanovsky. – Hello, Tsar-father… Finally we meet again. And how he has matured, I don’t recognize him…

– He looks like himself, and that’s good, – Peter grinned, – I heard, there is another rebellion in Moscow, and few of the guilty have been punished?

– So why execute them? – Romodanovsky did not understand, – there are few service people. There are not enough of them. And you, father, should wear the Tsar’s barma when going out, and Orthodox clothes…

– No, it’s not necessary…

– What was discussed in the letters, does it not raise doubts? – Boris Alekseevich expressed himself slyly.

– The rights of Alexei Petrovich will not be challenged.

The boyars whispered contentedly, and nodded. And they no longer looked so wary.

– Well, that’s it… – Boris Alekseevich Golitsyn began to speak slowly, – we have decided to do everything so that there will be no harm in the Russian state. And you must sign these Conditions,” he gave the Dutchman a message written on good paper. Piter began to read:

“Through this we most firmly communicate, my most important concern and effort will be not only about the maintenance, but also about the utmost possible dissemination of our Orthodox faith of the Greek confession, also after accepting the Russian crown I will not enter into marriage for the rest of my life and will not determine an heir either with me or by myself, we also promise that since the integrity and well-being of any state consists of good advice, for this reason we will always maintain the already established Boyar Duma of seven persons and without any other agreement:

1, not to start a war with anyone

2. not to conclude peace,

m. not to burden our loyal subjects with any taxes,

4. not to grant noble ranks, both in civil and military land and naval, above the rank of colonel, not to assign below to noble affairs, and the guard and other troops to be under the jurisdiction of the Supreme Privy Council

5. Not to take away from the gentry the life, property and honor without a trial,

6. not to grant patrimonies and villages,

7. not to produce in court ranks, both foreigners and Russians,

8. not to use state revenues for expenses, and to maintain all our subjects in mercy, and if I do not fulfill anything according to this promise, then I will be deprived of the Russian crown.”

– That’s clever, – and he slowly signed with the pen handed to him.

He left the regulations on the table, and he himself walked, rather than marched, around the chamber, with his hands behind his back, like a huge raven.

– Tsarina Evdokia has gone to a monastery. So she won’t bother you, father, – said Fyodor Lopukhin.

And the new tsar understood this. So that no more heirs to the throne would appear from his blood. – Call me Herr Peter, or Pyotr Alekseevich, – the new tsar ordered harshly. On the road he read and thought a lot. He knew what the boyars’ power was based on – the old way of life and service people. There, in the dormeze, on the road between Revel and Novgorod, he thought of this, which burst out of him like an avalanche:

– I order a search to be conducted among those archers. The one who called me a German wanted to destroy you, the boyars. Tsar Leopold told me about this and reproached me severely. And issue a decree – to take those archers to Preobrazhenskoye and torture them, to find out who else was involved in this theft.

– Why? There was no conspiracy, that’s for sure. No forgery, nothing was found! – answered the prince-caesar.

– They searched poorly… And, my order to you, Boris Alekseevich – to recruit ten dragoon regiments. And the archers have nothing to do in Moscow.

– And the Stremenny? – Lev Kirillovich spoke up.

– They will sit in Azov, become quieter. It will be more reliable that way.

Peter recalled what he read Dmitry Ivanovich… He sat on the throne, and then flew off with the archers’ wish. And he even flew out of a cannon, like a cannonball, even after death. He didn’t need that… And it was uncomfortable to sit in Moscow, unkindly… He had to build his own, his own…

– So… Bring the Streltsy from the monasteries to Preobrazhenskoye. I’ll ask myself, since they didn’t tell you. It’s okay, I won’t get dirty. And I’m not afraid of blood, boyars.

And he laughed a strange, unfamiliar and evil laugh. From which even Mikhail Grigorievich Romodanovsky, who had been in more than one battle, felt everything inside him turn over. The seasoned warrior only thought:

“Well, they’ve found a way to ruin their lives… Now we’ll cry. We wanted the best, but it turned out worse than ever…”.

But he didn’t open his mouth either. And how could he open it? This foreigner is now the Tsar and Grand Duke of all Rus’, a true autocrat. And he has the right to execute and pardon everyone.

Others, as if straining themselves, grabbed their staffs, as if they wanted to put them to use. Peter did not take up his sword, the hilt was at the giant’s hip.It was necessary to cheer up the nobles with words:

– And here’s what, boyars… My Life Guards have acknowledged that I am the true Tsar. They, my real children, are standing and waiting for me. As if their dear father, without them… So, your paper, these Conditions, are of no use, – and he tore the document into pieces and threw it on the floor.

Here the boyars realized that they wanted to catch a fat Dutch goose, which is good to eat with sauerkraut and green wine, but they caught, perhaps, a lion. And he himself can devour them. And even without crispy cabbage.

Anna Mons

Pyotr Alekseevich visited the bathhouse on his way back, where he happily lay on the shelf. And Aleksashka quickly beat him with a broom. Now the orderly was sweating much more than the tsar. And not so much from the heat of the stove, but from excitement. Otherwise, if he doesn’t like it, he’ll get angry…

– Well, that’s it, my dear. Now we can rest… Let’s sit in the dressing room.

– I wish I had something to drink…

– Well, drink some kvass.

Pyotr tried it, nodded his head approvingly. He sipped a few different ones. He liked the blackcurrant one the most.

– Great… I haven’t had a drink in a long time, – he drawled, draining the clay mug to the last drop, – We need to go to Kukuy. To Annushka.

– That’s true, my dear… It’s the best thing after the bathhouse! – and Menshikov smiled knowingly.

– Shut up. I’ll knock your teeth out!

Pyotr said these words, generally good-naturedly, and poured himself another full glass. He drank and looked at Alexashka with his round eyes over the edge of the mug.

Soon a modest carriage with a pair of horses was carrying Peter, accompanied by Menshikov. Well, and also a small convoy of six dragoons. It was completely stupid to travel through the city when you were afraid that you would be stabbed or poisoned.

The house where Peter’s favorite now lived was built of stone, with eight windows. And next to it in the yard were a couple of sheds, a barn and a stable. A worker brought hay for the horses of the owner’s team, and another swept the ground clean of straw and dirt. Everything was as always, clean and tidy.

– Well, here we are, – Menshikov whispered and quickly opened the carriage door.

Peter pursed his lips, stood up abruptly on the ground, shook out the hem of his caftan, and, squinting slightly, looked at the house.It was unclear whether he liked all this or not, and Alexashka did not want to pester the tsar with questions. Then, as if having made up his mind, he opened the front door, and the doorman almost flew out into the street.

Peter laughed contentedly and slapped the footman on the shoulder in a friendly manner.

– What, should I wait for you? – he shouted to Menshikov.

– I’m already running, min hertz!

They went up to the second floor to the living room. The room looked Dutch. Rafters under the roof, the walls were decorated with white and blue tiles, in the corners there were cupboards with dishes and books, next to a solidly laid table, and carved chairs.

On the threshold stood a sharp-nosed, slightly plump girl in a beautiful, but not luxurious dress with elbow-length sleeves, decorated with lace. Her hair was slightly covered by an openwork cap, in the new fashion. In her hands was a tray with a glass of vodka and a pie, traditional Russian style.

– Welcome back, Peter, – the lady said with a slightly charming accent.

Peter drank the vodka in one gulp, immediately ate the pie, and kissed Anna roughly and harshly, causing her to scream.

– And I’m glad I came back to you. Well, feed me, or what…

With a doomed look, the German woman led the guests to the table. The food was there, in the German style – baked ham, fried sausages, potatoes. Everything was so nice and clean.

Peter ate quickly and sharply, throwing greedy glances at the hostess, as if she were another dish of this dinner.

– Well, have you eaten? – the tsar asked Menshikov, – go to Preobrazhenskoye, and wait for me there… Aleksashka quickly stood up, bowed and quickly left, not wanting to disturb the sovereign. He undoubtedly had important business to attend to here.

A New Custom

In the morning Peter was unusually cheerful, immediately called the barber. Shaving was a pleasure for him. Then he filled his pipe and lit up.

– Well, Liber Alexashka. Today is an important day. Either they will kill me, or everything in Russia will be my way.

– So maybe it’s not worth it, my dear? Why immediately on the blackamoor?

– Little by little is not allowed here, it doesn’t work, – and thoughtfully he blew a cloud of smoke to the ceiling.

On the benches the sovereign’s dwarves were bustling about and fighting for fun and royal awards. They looked funny in their long boyar fur coats, high hats and with crookedly glued-on beards that reached all the way to the floor.

Then he ordered that a caftan of the Preobrazhensky Regiment be brought to him, he meticulously examined himself in the mirror, and seemed to be satisfied.

– Set the tables, – commanded Pyotr, – and put out more vodka, more. And aniseed, and galangal. And good snacks. Pork ham, mushrooms… Aleksashka, have the masters arrived from the German Quarter?

– Yes, they are waiting, but they really don’t understand why they were all called?

– No matter, they will soon become proud of their craft. I am creating an opportunity for these people to earn money too! – and he laughed his wooden laugh again.

– Oh, my God! It seems that the first ones have already arrived…

Boyar carriages, covered carriages of Duma nobles and other service people began to accumulate in the courtyard. They all came to show off in front of each other, smartly dressed and important.

– Aleksashka, go and set guards so that no one is let out… Otherwise, the devils will run away…

– Got it, my God! – Menshikov answered, laughing, and ran off to carry out the tsar’s order. The stewards, very young boyar children, began to open the gates.The nobles went first to bow to the Tsar-father, to fall on their knees before their own father..

As soon as they entered the chamber, there was an empty throne, and next to it a man similar in face to the Tsar was walking from wall to wall, only in foreign, evil clothes.

– Greetings to you boyars, Duma clerks and nobles! I look at you, and my heart bleeds!

– But why, father? We serve you faithfully and truly! – muttered Prince Dolgoruky.

The courtier approached the Tsar. He looked at the prince, put his strong hands on his shoulders. And suddenly he laughed deafeningly.

– Where did you lose your beard, Prince? – and again he feigned laughter.

Dolgoruky grabbed his face in fear, and sure enough – his beard was cut off! And under the bench sits a dwarf, and, the scoundrel, glues a princely beard to his snout. Dolgoruky poked him with a stick, and he squealed!

– For Christ’s sake, forgive him, stupid and narrow-minded… – and the tsar looked at the nobleman, smiling, – here is the barber, he will tidy you up, shave your face… And you drink to my health! – and he himself, personally, brought the glass.

Dolgoruky even burst into tears from such treatment, and drank it all. And they sat him down at the table, poured him more, and put mushrooms and pickles on him.

And so the day spun around… All the nobles were left without beards, with bare faces, without masculine beauty. – It’s been a hard day for me, Alexashka… – Peter said tiredly but proudly, – now they won’t look at me askance, they say, I’m a tsar, but without a beard. And they don’t have beards now!

The Danes’ Visit to Preobrazhenskoye. Torture and Blood

– Yes, it’s an important matter… We must see Tsar Peter, – said Secretary Alex Dietrichs, leafing through the papers

– I heard about what’s going on in Preobrazhenskoye. It would be very interesting to see it…

Friedrik Jansen was a good clerk and knew Russian and Latin very well. He skillfully corrected letters and kept the embassy archives in order. He was also a nice conversationalist and played cards well.

Of course, Moscow was a bit boring, there were no balls, receptions and there were no theaters, but Tsar Peter obviously decided to replace all this

– I don’t advise it, Friedrik. You will be guaranteed a bad night’s sleep and a bad appetite. And the guards of the Russian monarch blocked all the roads there.

– They say that hundreds of Streltsy have already been driven into this hellish prison.

– Peter wants to surpass the English king Henry in his bloodthirstiness.

– He did not torture the military. This is a bad idea, a bad motive, and a bad occupation, – the Danish ambassador said meaningfully, shaking the ashes from his smoked pipe, – others will notice this, remember, and draw conclusions. Then one should not complain about betrayal.

– Constantine the Great dispersed the Praetorians in Rome.

– True, he dispersed, but did not execute. With whom, with what army is Peter going to fight the Turks or the Swedes? This is madness…

– I heard that they are going to enroll the datka peasants in the soldier regiments… There are many of them, and they will gather many new regiments.

Here the ambassador laughed merrily, and with a sly squint looked at his assistant.

– Streltsy are accustomed to shooting from guns from an early age, they masterfully wield a saber.And what about yesterday’s peasant? Doesn’t know left from right, hasn’t been taught to read or write, and is unaccustomed to shooting. Recruits need to be trained for at least a year if there are experienced soldiers in the company. And three years if no one knows how to do anything. I don’t think highly of Peter’s skills. He is too cruel, and will ruin everything anyway. Remember the two sieges of Azov. And, you don’t know, but I read in old columns how the Cossacks took the Azov fortress in 1632. And there were only five thousand of them. Then they lay siege for three years, fighting off the merciless Turks. That’s the difference between peasants dressed in military caftans and true warriors. Such a soldier is more of a burden than a real fighter.

– Well, tell this to the Tsar? He is an ally of our king.

– Peter is quarrelsome and angry. Such a child who got carried away in his play, who still doesn’t understand what is good and what is bad. Life itself must punish him. Without it, any words are meaningless. Well, okay, – he said, looking out the window, – the horses are ready, the servants too. Let’s go, otherwise it’s getting dark quickly at this time.

Both of them, having pulled their cloaks so that their faces were not visible, went out into the yard.

– Andreas, – the ambassador turned to his orderly, – you and Vitus will stay with the horses. Be smart and careful.

– We’ll do everything!

– Well, then, with God!

The four horsemen galloped down the street at a light trot. The soldiers standing guard at the gates of Kitai-gorod let the Danes through, showing letters of commissariat from the Ambassadorial Prikaz.

– I told you it would be simple.

– Everything will be simple when we return to our estate. And we’ll go to sleep in our warm beds, with hot water bottles under the featherbeds. We rode for another hour, and it was already getting dark. The horses, good and thoroughbred, were not tired, and confidently carried their riders. – I’ve been here before, – muttered the assistant, – this torture huu… It was dark, and a couple of lanterns on the corners of the zay did not dispel the gloom at all. Then the wind picked up, and as if on purpose, slammed the shutters against the wall. The rumble echoed not only in the ears of the Danes, but also, perhaps, in the stomachs and knees of the two heroes. Jansen sat down and began to look around in fear.

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