Russia and Poland had long been engaged in a bloody frontier war, each endeavoring to wrest provinces from the other; but Russia was steadily on the advance. The embassage of Maximilian was not productive of peace. On the contrary, Vassili immediately sent an embassador to Vienna to endeavor to secure the aid of Austria in his war with Poland. Maximilian received the envoy with very extraordinary marks of favor. He was invited to sit, in the presence of the emperor, with his hat upon his head, and whenever the embassador, during the conference, mentioned the name of the Russian emperor, Maximilian uncovered his head in token of respect. The great object of Maximilian's ambition was to arm all Europe against the Turks; and he was exceedingly anxious to secure the cooeperation of a power so energetic as that of Russia had now proved herself to be. Even then with consummate foresight he wrote:

"The integrity of Poland is indispensable to the general interests of Europe. The grandeur of Russia is becoming dangerous."

Maximilian soon sent another embassador to Moscow, who very forcibly described the conquests made by the Turks in Europe, Asia and Africa, from the Thracian Bosporus to the sands of Egypt, and from the mountains of Caucasia to Venice. He spoke of the melancholy captivity of the Greek church, which was the mother of Russian Christianity; of the profanation of the holy sepulcher; of Nazareth, Bethlehem and Sinai, which had fallen under the domination of the Turk. He suggested, that the Turks, in possession of the Tauride—as the country upon the north shore of the Black Sea, bounded by the Dnieper and the Sea of Azof was then called—threatened the independence of Russia herself; that Vassili had every thing to fear from the ferocity, the perfidy and the success of Selim, who, stained with the blood of his father and his three brothers, dared to assume the title of master of the world. He entreated Vassili, as one of the most powerful of the Christian princes, to follow the banner of Jesus Christ, and to cease to make war upon Poland, thus exhausting the Christian powers.

Maximilian died before his embassador returned, and thus these negotiations were interrupted. But Russia was then all engrossed with the desire of obtaining provinces from Poland. Turkey was too formidable a foe to think of assailing, and the idea at that time of wresting any territory from Turkey was preposterous. All Europe combined could only hope to check any further advance of the Moslem cimeters. Influenced by these considerations, Vassili sent another embassador to Constantinople to propose a treaty with Selim, which might aid Russia in the strife with her hereditary rival. The sultan, glad of any opportunity to weaken the Christian powers, ordered his pachas to harass Poland in every possible way on the south, thus enabling Russia more easily to assail the distracted kingdom on the north. The King of Poland, Sigismond, was in consternation.

Poland was united with Rome in religion. The pope, Leo X., anxious to secure the cooeperation of both Poland and Russia against the Turks, who were the great foe Christianity had most to dread, proposed that the King of Poland, a renowned warrior, should be entrusted with the supreme command of the Christian armies, and adroitly suggested to Vassili, that Constantinople was the legitimate heritage of a Russian monarch, who was the descendant of a Grecian princess; that it was sound policy for him to turn his attention to Turkey; for Poland, being a weaker power, and combined of two discordant elements, the original Poland and Lithuania, would of necessity be gradually absorbed by the growth of Russia.

Vassili hated the pope, because he had ordered Te Deums in Rome, in celebration of a victory which the Poles had obtained over the Russians, and had called the Russians heretics. But still the bait the pope presented was too alluring not to be caught at. In the labyrinthine mazes of politics, however, there were obstacles to the development of this policy which years only could remove.

Upon the death of Maximilian, Charles V. of Spain ascended the throne of the German empire, and established a power, the most formidable that had been known in Europe for seven hundred years, that is, since the age of Charlemagne. Vassili was in the midst of these plans of aggrandizement when death came with its unexpected summons. He was in the fifty-fourth year of his age, with mental and physical vigor unimpaired. A small pimple appeared on his left thigh, not larger than the head of a pin, but from its commencement attended with excruciating pain. It soon resolved itself into a malignant ulcer, which rapidly exhausted all the vital energies. The dying king was exceedingly anxious to prepare himself to stand before the judgment seat of God. He spent days and nights in prayer, gave most affectionate exhortations to all around him to live for heaven, assumed monastic robes, resolving that, should he recover, he would devote himself exclusively to the service of God. It was midnight the 3d of December, 1533. The king had just partaken of the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. Suddenly his tongue was paralyzed, his eyes fixed, his hands dropped by his side, and the metropolitan bishop, who had been administering the last rites of religion, exclaimed, "It is all over. The king is dead."



CHAPTER XII.

IVAN IV.—HIS MINORITY.

From 1533 to 1546.

Vassili At the Chase.—Attention To Distinguished Foreigners.—The Autocracy.—Splendor of the Edifices.—Slavery.—Aristocracy.—Infancy of Ivan IV.—Regency of Helene.—Conspiracies and Tumults.—War with Sigismond of Poland.—Death of Helene.—Struggles of the Nobles.—Appalling Sufferings of Dmitri.—Incursion of the Tartars.—Successful Conspiracy.—Ivan IV. At the Chase.—Coronation of Ivan IV.

Under Vassili, the Russian court attained a degree of splendor which had before been unknown. The Baron of Herberstein thus describes the appearance of the monarch when engaging in the pleasures of the chase:

"As soon as we saw the monarch entering the field, we dismounted and advanced to meet him on foot. He was mounted upon a magnificent charger, gorgeously caparisoned. He wore upon his head a tall cap, embroidered with precious stones, and surmounted by gilded plumes which waved in the wind. A poignard and two knives were attached to his girdle. He had upon his right, Aley, tzar of Kazan, armed with a bow and arrows; at his left, two young princes, one of whom held an ax, and the other a number of arms. His suite consisted of more than three hundred cavaliers."

The chase was continued, over the boundless plains, for many days and often weeks. When night approached, the whole party, often consisting of thousands, dismounted and reared their village of tents. The tent of the emperor was ample, gorgeous, and furnished with all the appliances of luxury. Hounds were first introduced into these sports in Russia by Vassili. The evening hours were passed in festivity, with abundance of good cheer, and in narrating the adventures of the day.

Whenever the emperor appeared in public, he was preceded by esquires chosen from among the young nobles distinguished for their beauty, the delicacy of their features and the perfect proportion of their forms. Clothed in robes of white satin and armed with small hatchets of silver, they marched before the emperor, and appeared to strangers, say his cotemporaries, "like angels descended from the skies."

Vassili was especially fond of magnificence in the audiences which he gave to foreign embassadors. To impress them with an idea of the vast population and wealth of Russia, and of the glory and power of the sovereign, Vassili ordered, on the day of presentation, that all the ordinary avocations of life should cease, and the citizens, clothed in their richest dresses, were to crowd around the walls of the Kremlin. All the young nobles in the vicinity, with their retinues, were summoned. The troops were under arms, and the most distinguished officers, glittering in the panoply of war, rode to meet the envoys.[7] In the hall of audience, crowded to its utmost capacity, there was silence, as of the grave. The king sat upon his throne, his bonnet upon one side of him, his scepter upon the other. His nobles were seated around upon couches draped in purple and embroidered with pearls and gold.

[Footnote 7: Francis da Callo relates that when he was received by the emperor, forty thousand soldiers were under arms, in the richest uniform, extending from the Kremlin to the hotel of the embassadors.]

Following the example of Ivan III., Vassili was unwearied in his endeavors to induce foreigners of distinction, particularly artists, physicians and men of science, to take up their residence in Russia. Any stranger, distinguished for genius or capability of any kind, who entered Russia, found it not easy to leave the kingdom. A Greek physician, of much celebrity, from Constantinople, visited Moscow. Vassili could not find it in his heart to relinquish so rich a prize, and detained him with golden bonds, which the unhappy man, mourning for his wife and children, in vain endeavored to break away. At last the sultan was influenced to write in behalf of the Greek.

"Permit," he wrote, "Marc to return to Constantinople to rejoin his family. He went to Russia only for a temporary visit."

The emperor replied:

"For a long time Marc has served me to his and my perfect satisfaction. He is now my lieutenant at Novgorod. Send to him his wife and children."

The power of the sovereign was absolute. His will was the supreme law. The lives, the fortunes of the clergy, the laity, the lords, the citizens were dependent upon his pleasure. The Russians regarded their monarch as the executor of the divine will. Their ordinary language was, God and the prince decree it. The Russians generally defend this autocracy as the only true principle of government. The philosophic Karamsin writes:

"Ivan III. and Vassili knew how to establish permanently the nature of one government by constituting in autocracy the necessary attribute of empire, its sole constitution, and the only basis of safety, force and prosperity. This limitless power of the prince is regarded as tyranny in the eye of strangers, because, in their inconsiderate judgment, they forget that tyranny is the abuse of autocracy, and that the same tyranny may exist in a republic when citizens or powerful magistrates oppress society. Autocracy does not signify the absence of laws, since law is everywhere where there is any duty to be performed, and the first duty of princes, is it not to watch over the happiness of their people?"

To the traveler, in the age of Vassili, Russia appeared like a vast desert compared with the other countries of Europe. The sparseness of the habitations, the extended plains, dense forests and roads, rough and desolate, attested that Russia was still in the cradle of its civilization. But as one approached Moscow, the signs of animated life rapidly increased. Convoys crowded the grand route, which traversed vast prairies waving with grain and embellished with all the works of industry. In the midst of this plain rose the majestic domes and glittering towers of Moscow. The convents, in massive piles, scattered around, resembled beautiful villages. The palace of the Kremlin alone, was a city in itself. Around this, as the nucleus, but spreading over a wide extent, were the streets of the metropolis, the palaces of the nobles, the mansions of the wealthy citizens and the shops of the artisans. The city in that day was, indeed, one of "magnificent distances," almost every dwelling being surrounded by a garden in luxurious cultivation. In the year 1520, the houses, by count, which was ordered by the grand prince, amounted to forty-one thousand five hundred.

The metropolitan bishop, the grand dignitaries of the court, the princes and lords occupied splendid mansions of wood reared by Grecian and Italian architects in the environs of the Kremlin. On wide and beautiful streets there were a large number of very magnificent churches also built of wood. The bazaars or shops, filled with the rich merchandise of Europe and of Asia, were collected in one quarter of the city, and were surrounded by a high stone wall as a protection against the armies, domestic or foreign, which were ever sweeping over the land.

From the eleventh to the sixteenth century, slavery may be said to have been universal in Russia. Absolutely every man but the monarch was a slave. The highest nobles and princes avowed themselves the slaves of the monarch. There was no law but the will of the sovereign. He could deprive any one of property and of life, and there was no power to call him to account but the poignard of the assassin or the sword of rebellion. In like manner the peasant serfs were slaves of the nobles, with no privileges whatever, except such as the humanity or the selfishness of their lords might grant But gradually custom, controlling public opinion, assumed almost the form of law. The kings established certain rules for the promotion of industry and the regulation of commerce. Merchants and scholars attained a degree of practical independence which was based on indulgence rather than any constitutional right, and, during the reign of Vassili, the law alone could doom the serf to death, and he began to be regarded as a man, as a citizen protected by the laws.[8] From this time we begin to see the progress of humanity and of higher conceptions of social life. It is, perhaps, worthy of record that anciently the peasants or serfs were universally designated by the name smerdi, which simply means smelling offensively. Is the exhalation of an offensive odor the necessary property of a people imbruted by poverty and filth? In America that unpleasant effluvium has generally been considered a peculiarity pertaining to the colored race. Philosophic observation may show that it is a disease, the result of uncleanliness, but, like other diseases, often transmitted from the guilty parent to the unoffending child. We have known white people who were exceedingly offensive in this respect, and colored people who were not so at all.

[Footnote 8: Karamsin, tome vii., page 265.]

The pride of illustrious birth was carried to the greatest extreme, and a noble would blush to enter into any friendly relations whatever with a plebeian. The nobles considered all business degrading excepting war, and spent the weary months, when not under arms, in indolence in their castles. The young women of the higher families were in a deplorable state of captivity. Etiquette did not allow them to mingle with society, or even to be seen except by their parents, and they had no employment except sewing or knitting, no mental culture and no sources of amusement. It was not the custom for the young men to choose their wives, but the father of the maiden selected some eligible match for his daughter, and made propositions to the family of his contemplated son-in-law, stating the dowry he would confer upon the bride, and the parties were frequently married without ever having previously seen each other.

The death of Vassili transmitted the crown to his only son, Ivan, an infant but three years of age. By the will of the dying monarch, the regency, during the minority of the child, was placed in the hands of the youthful mother, the princess Helene. The brothers of Vassili and twenty nobles of distinction were appointed as counselors for the queen regent. Two men, however, in concert with Helene, soon took the reins of government into their own hands. One of these was a sturdy, ambitious old noble, Michel Glinsky, an uncle of Helene; the other was a young and handsome prince, Ivan Telennef, who was suspected of tender liaisons with his royal mistress.

The first act of the new government was to assemble all the higher clergy in the church of the Assumption, where the metropolitan bishop gave his benediction to the child destined to reign over Russia, and who was there declared to be accountable to God only for his actions. At the same time embassadors were sent to all the courts of Europe to announce the death of Vassili and the accession of Ivan IV. to the throne.

But a week passed after these ceremonies ere the prince Youri, one of the brothers of Vassili, was arrested, charged with conspiracy to wrest the crown from his young nephew. He was thrown into prison, where he was left to perish by the slow torture of starvation. This severity excited great terror in Moscow. The Russians, ever strongly attached to their sovereigns, now found themselves under the reign of an oligarchy which they detested. Conspiracies and rumors of conspiracies agitated the court. Many were arrested upon suspicion alone, and, cruelly chained, were thrown into dungeons. Michel Glinsky, indignant at the shameful intimacy evidently existing between Helene and Telennef, ventured to remonstrate with the regent boldly and earnestly, assuring her that the eyes of the court were scrutinizing her conduct, and that such vice, disgraceful anywhere, was peculiarly hideous upon a throne, where all looked for examples of virtue. The audacious noble, though president of the council, was immediately arrested under an accusation of treason, and was thrown into a dungeon, where, soon after, he was assassinated. A reign of terror now commenced, and imprisonment and death awaited all those who undertook in any way to thwart the plans of Helene and Telennef.

Andre, the youngest of the brothers of Vassili, a man of feeble character, now alone remained of the royal princes at court. He was nominally the tutor of his nephew, the young emperor, Ivan IV., and though a prominent member of the council which Vassili had established, he had no influence in the government which had been grasped so energetically and despotically by Helene and her paramour Telennef. At length Andre, trembling for his own life, timidly raised the banners of revolt, and gathered quite an army around him. But he had no energy to conduct a war. He was speedily taken, and, loaded with chains, was thrown into a dungeon, where, after a few weeks of most cruel deprivations, he miserably perished. Thirty of the lords, implicated with him in the rebellion, were hung upon the trees around Novgorod. Many others were put to torture and perished on the rack. Helene, surrendering herself to the dominion of guilty love, developed the ferocity of a tigress.

Sigismond, King of Poland, taking advantage of the general discontent of the Russians under the sway of Helene, formed an alliance with the horde upon the lower waters of the Don, and invaded Russia, burning and destroying with mercilessness which demons could not have surpassed. Prince Telennef headed an army to repel them. The pen wearies in describing the horrors of these scenes. One hundred thousand Russians are now flying before one hundred and fifty thousand Polanders. Hundreds of miles of territory are ravaged. Cities and villages are stormed, plundered, burned; women and children are cut down and trampled beneath the feet of cavalry, or escape shrieking into the forests, where they perish of exposure and starvation. But an army of recruits comes to the aid of the Russians. And now one hundred and fifty thousand Polanders are driven before two hundred thousand Russians. They sweep across the frontier like dust driven by the tornado. And now the cities and villages of Poland blaze; her streams run red with blood. The Polish wives and daughters in their turn struggle, shriek and die. From exhaustion the warfare ceases. The two antagonists, moaning and bleeding, wait for a few years but to recover sufficient strength to renew the strife, and then the brutal, demoniac butchery commences anew. Such is the history of man.

In this brief, but bloody war, the city of Staradoub, in Russia, was besieged by an army of Poles and Tartars. The assault was urged with the most desperate energy and fearlessness. The defense was conducted with equal ferocity. Thousands fell on both sides in every mangled form of death. At last the besiegers undermined the walls, and placing beneath hundreds of barrels of gunpowder, as with the burst of a volcano, uphove the massive bastions to the clouds. They fell in a storm of ruin upon the city, setting it on fire in many places. Through the flames and over the smouldering ruins, Poles and Tartars, blackened with smoke and smeared with blood, rushed into the city, and in a few hours thirteen thousand of the inhabitants were weltering in their gore. None were left alive. And this is but a specimen of the wars which raged for ages. The world now has but the faintest conception of the seas of blood and woe through which humanity has waded to attain even its present feeble recognition of fraternity.

In this, as in every war with Poland, Russia was gaining, ever wresting from her rival the provinces of Lithuania, and attaching them to the gigantic empire. In the year 1534, Helene commenced the enterprise of surrounding the whole of Moscow with a ditch, and a wall capable of resisting the batterings of artillery. An Italian engineer, named Petrok Maloi, superintended these works. The foundation of the walls was laid with imposing religious ceremonies. The wall was crowned with four towers at the opening of the four gates. Helene was so conscious of the importance of augmenting the population of Russia, that she offered land and freedom from taxes for a term of years to all who would migrate into her territory from Poland. Perhaps also she had a double object, wishing to weaken a rival power. Much counterfeit coin was found to be in circulation. The regent issued an edict, that any one found guilty of depreciating the current standard of coin, should be punished with death, and this death was to be barbarously inflicted by first cutting off the hands of the culprit, and then pouring melted lead through a tunnel down his throat.

On the 3d of April, 1538, Helene, in the prime of life, and with all her sins in full vigor and unrepented, retired to her bed at night, suddenly and seriously sick. Some one had succeeded in administering to her a dose of poison. She shrieked for a few hours in mortal agony, and soon after the hour of twelve was tolled, her spirit ascended to meet God in judgment. Being dead, she had no favors to confer and no terrors to execute; and her festering remains were the same day hurried ignominiously to the grave. Her paramour, Telennef, alone wept over her death. Russia rejoiced, and yet with trembling. Whose strong arm would now seize the helm of the tempest-torn ship of State, no one could tell.

The young prince, Ivan IV., was but seven years of age at the death of his mother Helene. For several days there was ominous silence in Moscow, the stillness which precedes the storm. The death of the regent had come so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that none were prepared for it. A week passed away, during which time parties were forming and conspiracies ripening, while Telennef was desperately endeavoring to retain that power which he had so despotically wielded in conjunction with his royal mistress. The prince Vassili Schouisky, who had occupied the first place in the councils of Vassili, opened the drama. Having secured the cooeperation of a large number of nobles, he declared himself the head of the government, arrested all the favorites of Helene, and threw Telennef, bound with chains, into a dungeon. There he was left to die of starvation—barbarity, which, though in accordance with that brutal age, even all the similar excesses of Telennef could not justify. The beautiful sister of Telennef, Agrippene by name, was torn from the saloons her loveliness had embellished, and was imprisoned for life in a convent. The victims of the cruelty of Helene, who were still languishing in prison, were set at liberty.

Schouisky was a widower, and in the fiftieth year of his age. He wished to strengthen his power by engaging the cooeperation of the still formidable energies of the horde at Kezan, and accordingly married, quite hurriedly, the daughter of the czar of the horde. But the regal diadem proved to him but a crown of thorns. Conspiracy succeeded conspiracy, and Schouisky felt compelled to enlist all the terrors of the dungeon, the scaffold and the block to maintain his place. Six months only passed away, ere he too was writhing upon the royal couch in the agonies of death, whether paralyzed by poison or smitten by the hand of God, the day of judgment alone can reveal.

Ivan Schouisky, the brother of the deceased usurper, now stepped into the dangerous post which death had so suddenly rendered vacant. He was a weak man, assuming the most pompous airs, quite unable to discriminate between imposing grandeur and ridiculous parade. He soon became both despised and detested. This state of things encouraged the two hordes of Kezan and Tauride to unite, and with an army of a hundred thousand men they penetrated Russia almost unopposed, burning and plundering in all directions.

Under these circumstances the metropolitan bishop, Joseph, a man of sincere piety and of very elevated character, and who enjoyed in the highest degree the confidence both of the aristocracy and of the people, presented himself before the council, urged the incapacity of Ivan Schouisky to govern, and proposed that Ivan Belsky, a nobleman of great energy and moral worth, should be chosen regent. The proposal was carried by acclamation. So unanimous was the vote, so cordial was the adoption of the republican principle of election, that Ivan Schouisky was powerless and was merely dismissed.

The new regent, sustained by the clergy and the aristocracy, governed the State with wisdom and moderation. All kinds of persecution ceased, and vigorous measures were adopted for the promotion of the public welfare. Old abuses were repressed; vicious governors deposed, and the rising flames of civil strife were quenched. Even the hitherto unheard-of novelty of trial by jury was introduced. Jurors were chosen from among the most intelligent citizens. Though there was some bitter opposition among the corrupt nobles to these salutary reforms, the clergy, as a body, sustained them, and so did also even a majority of the lords. It was Christianity and the church which introduced these humanizing measures.

Among the innumerable tragedies of those days, let one be mentioned illustrative of the terrific wrongs to which all are exposed under a despotic government. There was a young prince, Dmitri, a child, grandson of Vassili the blind, whose claims to the throne were feared. He was thrown into prison and there forgotten. For forty-nine years he had now remained in a damp and dismal dungeon. He had committed no crime. He was accused of no crime. It was only feared that restive nobles might use him as an instrument for the furtherance of their plans. All the years of youth and of manhood had passed in darkness and misery. No beam of the sun ever penetrated his tomb. All unheeded the tides of life surged in the world above him, while his mind with his body was wasting away in the long agony.

"O who can tell what days, what nights he spent, Of tideless, waveless, sailless, shoreless woe."

Mercy now entered his cell, but it was too late even for that angel visitant to bring a gleam of joy. His friends were all dead. His name was forgotten on earth. He knew nothing of the world or of its ways. His mind was enfeebled, and even the slender stock of knowledge which he had possessed as a child, had vanished away. They broke off his chains and removed him from his dungeon to a comfortable chamber. The poor old man, dazzled by the light and bewildered by the change, lingered joylessly and without a smile for a few weeks and died. Immortality alone offers a solution for these mysteries. "After death cometh the judgment."

The Christian bishop, Joseph, and Ivan Belsky, the regent, in cordial cooeperation, endeavored in all things to promote prosperity and happiness. Again there was a coalition of the Tartars for the invasion of Russia. The three hordes, in Kezan, in the Tauride and at the mouth of the Volga, united, and in an army one hundred thousand strong, with numerous cavalry and powerful artillery, commenced their march. The Russian troops were hastily collected upon the banks of the Oka, there to take their stand and dispute the passage of the stream. By order of the clergy, prayers were offered incessantly in the churches by day and by night, that God would avert this terrible invasion. The young prince, Ivan IV., was now ten years of age. The citizens of Moscow were moved to tears and to the deepest enthusiasm on hearing their young prince, in the church of the Assumption, offer aloud and fervently the prayer,

"Oh heavenly Father! thou who didst protect our ancestors against the cruel Tamerlane, take us also under thy holy protection—us in childhood and orphanage. Our mind and our body are still feeble, and yet the nation looks to us for deliverance."

Accompanied by the metropolitan Joseph, he entered the council and said,

"The enemy is approaching. Decide for me whether it be best that I should remain here or go to meet the foe."

With one voice they exclaimed, "Prince, remain at Moscow."

They then took a solemn oath to die, if necessary, for their prince. The citizens came forward in crowds and volunteered for the defense of the walls. The faubourgs were surrounded with pallisades, and batteries of artillery were placed to sweep, in all directions, the approaches to the city. The enthusiasm was so astonishing that the Russian annalists ascribe it to a supernatural cause. On the 30th of July, 1541, the Tartar army appeared upon the southern banks of the Oka, crowning all the heights which bordered the stream. Immediately they made an attempt to force the passage. But the Russians, thoroughly prepared for the assault, repelled them with prodigious slaughter. Night put an end to the contest. The Russians were elated with their success, and waited eagerly for the morning to renew the strife. They even hoped to be able to cross the river and to sweep the camp of their foes. The fires of their bivouacs blazed all the night, reinforcements were continually arriving, and their songs of joy floated across the water, and fell heavily upon the hearts of the dismayed Tartars.

At midnight the khan, and the whole host, conscious of their peril, commenced a precipitate retreat, in their haste abandoning many guns and much of their baggage. The Russians pursued the foe, but were not able to overtake them, so rapidly did they retrace their steps.

The news of the expulsion of the enemy spread rapidly through Russia. The conduct of the grand prince everywhere excited the most lively enthusiasm. He entered the church, and in an affecting prayer returned thanks to God for the deliverance. The people, with unanimity, exclaimed,

"Grand prince, your angelic prayers and your happy star have caused us to triumph."

Awful, however, were the woes which fell upon those people who were on the line of march of the barbaric Tartars.

Ivan Belsky, the regent, had now attained the highest degree of good fortune, and in his own conscience, and in the general approbation of the people, he found ample recompense for his deeds of humanity, and his patriotic exertions. But envy, that poison of society, raised up against him enemies. Ivan Schouisky, who had been deposed by vote of the council, organized a conspiracy among the disaffected nobles, and on the night of the 3d of January, 1542, three hundred cavaliers surrounded the residences of the regent and of the metropolitan bishop, seized them and hurried them to prison, and in the prison finished their work by the assassination of Ivan Belsky.

Ivan Schouisky, sustained by the sabers of his partisans, reassumed the government. A new metropolitan bishop, Macaire was appointed to take the place of Joseph, who was deposed and imprisoned. The clergy, overawed, were silent. The reign of silence was again commenced, and all the posts of honor and influence were placed in the hands of the partisans of Schouisky. The government, such as it was, was now in the hands of a triumvirate consisting of Ivan, Andre and Feodor. Not a syllable of opposition would these men endure, and the dungeon and the assassin's poignard silenced all murmurs. The young prince, Ivan IV., was now thirteen years of age. He was endowed by nature with a mind of extraordinary sagacity and force, but his education had been entirely neglected, and the scenes of perfidy and violence he was continually witnessing were developing, a character which menaced Russia with many woes.

The infamous Schiouskies sought to secure the friendship of the young prince by ministering, in every possible way, to his pleasures. They led him to the chase, encouraged whatever disposition he chanced to manifest, and endeavored to train him in a state of feebleness and ignorance which might promote their ambitious plans. The Kremlin became the scene of constant intrigues. Cabal succeeded cabal. The position of the triumvirate became, month after month, more perilous. The young prince gave decisive indications of discontent. It began to be whispered into his ears that it was time for him to assume the reins of government, and he was assured that all Russia was waiting, eager to obey his orders. The metropolitan bishop, either from a sense of justice or of policy, also espoused the cause of the youthful sovereign. It was evident that another party was rising into power.

On the 29th of December, 1534, Ivan IV. went with a large party of his lords to the chase. Instructed beforehand in the measures he was to adopt, he, quite unexpectedly to the triumvirate, summoned all his lords around him, and, assuming an imperious and threatening tone, declared that the triumvirate had abused his extreme youth, had trampled upon justice, and, as culprits, deserved to die. In his great clemency, however, he decided to spare the lives of two, executing only one as an example to the nation. The oldest of the three, Andre Schouisky, was immediately seized and handed over to the conductors of the hounds. They set the dogs upon him, and he was speedily torn to pieces in the presence of the company, and his mangled remains were scattered over the plain.

The partisans of Schouisky, terrified by this deed, were afraid to utter a murmur. The nobles generally were alarmed, for it was evident that though they had escaped the violence of the triumvirate, they had fallen into hands equally to be dreaded. Confiscations and other acts of rigor rapidly succeeded, and the young prince, still too youthful to govern by the decision of his own mind, was quite under the control of the Glinskys, through whose council he had shaken off the triumvirate of the Schouiskies. Ivan IV. now made the tour of his kingdom, but with no other object than the promotion of his personal gratification. Most of his time was devoted to the excitements of the chase in the savage forests which spread over a large portion of his realms. He was always surrounded by a brilliant staff of nobles, and the sufferings of the people were all concealed from his view. The enormous expenses of his court were exacted from the people he visited, and his steps were followed by lamentations.

In the year 1546, Ivan attained the eighteenth year of his age, and made great preparations for his coronation. The imposing rites were to be performed at Moscow. On the 16th of January, the grand prince entered one of the saloons of his palaces while the nobles, the princes, the officers of the court, all richly dressed, were assembled in the ante-chamber. The confessor of the grand prince, having received from Ivan IV. a crucifix, placed it upon a plate of gold with the crown and other regalia, and conveyed them to the church of the Assumption accompanied by the grand equerry, Glinsky, and other important personages of the court. Soon after, the grand prince also repaired to the church. He was preceded by an ecclesiastic holding in his hand a crucifix, and sprinkling to the right and to the left holy water upon the crowd.

Ivan IV., surrounded by all the splendors of his court, entered the church, where he was encircled by the ecclesiastics, and received the benediction of the metropolitan bishop. A hymn was then sang by the accumulated choirs, which astounded the audience; after which mass was celebrated. In the midst of the cathedral, a platform was erected, which was ascended by twelve steps. Upon this platform there were two thrones of equal splendor, covered with cloth of gold, one for the monarch, the other for the metropolitan bishop. In front of the stage there was a desk, richly decorated, upon which were placed the crown regalia. The monarch and the bishop took their seats. The bishop, rising, pronounced a benediction upon the monarch, placed the crown upon his head, the scepter in his hand, and then, with a loud voice, prayed that God would endow this new David with the influences of the Holy Spirit, establish his throne in righteousness, and render him terrible to evil doers and a benefactor to those who should do well. The ceremonies were closed by an anthem by the choir. The young emperor then returned, with his court, to the Kremlin, through streets carpeted with velvet and damask. As they walked along, the emperor's brother, Youri, scattered among the crowd handsfull of gold coin, which he took from a vase carried at his side by Michel Glinsky. The moment Ivan IV. left the church, the people, till then motionless and silent, precipitated themselves upon the platform, and all the rich cloths which had decorated it were torn to shreds, each individual eager to possess a souvenir of the memorable day.



CHAPTER XIII.

THE REIGN OF IVAN IV.

From 1546 to 1552.

The Title of Tzar.—marriage of Ivan IV.—Virtues of His Bride.—Depraved Character of the Young Emperor.—Terrible Conflagrations.—Insurrections.—The Rebuke.—Wonderful Change in the Character of Ivan IV.—Confessions of Sin and Measures of Reform.—Sylvestre and Alexis Adachef.—The Code of Laws.—Reforms in the Church.—Encouragement To Men of Science and Letters.—The Embassage of Schlit.—War With Kezan.—Disasters and Disgrace.—Immense Preparation For the Chastisement of the Horde.—The March.—Repulse of the Tauredians.—Siege of Kezan.—Incidents of the Siege.

Though the monarchs of Russia, in all their relations with foreign powers, took the title of Tzar or Emperor, they also retained that of Grand Prince which was consecrated by ancient usage. And now the envoys of Ivan IV. were traversing Russia in all directions to find, among the maidens of noble blood, one whose beauty would render her worthy of the sovereign. The choice at last fell upon Anastasia, the daughter of a lady of illustrious rank, who was a widow. Language is exhausted, by the Russian annalists, in describing the perfections of her person, mind and heart. All conceivable social and moral excellences were in her united with the most brilliant intellectual gifts and the most exquisite loveliness.

The marriage was performed by the bishop in the church of Notre Dame. "You are now," said the metropolitan, in conclusion, "united for ever, by virtue of the mysteries of the gospel. Prostrate yourselves, then, before the Most High, and secure his favor by the practice of every virtue. But those virtues which should especially distinguish you, are the love of truth and of benevolence. Prince, love and honor your spouse. Princess, truly Christian, be submissive to your husband; for as the Redeemer is the head of the church, so is man the head of the woman."

For many days Moscow was surrendered to festivity and rejoicings. The emperor devoted his attention to the rich, the empress to the poor. Anastasia, since the death of her father, had lived remote from the capital, in the most profound rural seclusion. Suddenly, and as by magic, she found herself transported to the scenes of the highest earthly grandeur, but still she maintained the same beautiful simplicity of character which she had developed in the saddened home of her widowed mother. Ivan IV. was a man of ungovernable passions, and accustomed only to idleness, he devoted himself to the most gross and ignoble pleasures. Mercilessly he confiscated the estates of those who displeased him, and with caprice equal to his mercilessness, he conferred their possessions upon his favorites. He seemed to regard this arbitrary conduct as indicative of his independence and grandeur.

The situation of Russia was perhaps never more deplorable than at the commencement of the reign of Ivan IV. The Glinskys were in high favor, and easily persuaded the young emperor to gratify all their desires. Laden with honors and riches, they turned a deaf ear to all the murmurs which despotism, the most atrocious, extorted from every portion of the empire. The inhabitants of Pskof, oppressed beyond endurance by an infamous governor, sent seventy of their most influential citizens to Moscow to present their grievances to the emperor. Ivan IV. raved like a madman at what he called the insolence of his subjects, in complaining of their governor. Almost choking with rage, he ordered the seventy deputies to be put to death by the most cruel tortures.

Anastasia wept in anguish over these scenes, and her prayers were incessantly ascending, that God would change the heart of her husband. Her prayers were heard and answered. The same power which changed Saul of Tarsus into Paul the Apostle, seemed to renew the soul of Ivan IV. History is full of these marvelous transformations—a mental phenomenon only to be explained by the scriptural doctrine of regeneration. In Ivan's case, as in that of thousands of others, afflictions were instruments made available by the Holy Spirit for the heart's renewal.

Moscow was at this time a capital of vast extent and of great magnificence. As timber was abundant and easily worked, most of the buildings, even the churches and the palaces, were constructed of wood. Though almost every house was surrounded by a garden, these enclosures were necessarily not extensive, and the city was peculiarly exposed to the perils of conflagration.

On the 12th of April, 1547, the cry of fire alarmed the inhabitants, and soon the flames were spreading with fury which baffled all human power. The store-houses of commerce, the magazines of the crown, the convent of Epiphany and a large number of dwellings, extending from the gate of Illinsky, to the Kremlin and the Moskwa, were consumed. The river alone arrested the destruction. A powder magazine took fire, and with a terrible explosion its towers were thrown into the air, taking with them a large section of the walls. The ruins fell like an avalanche into the river, completely filling up its channel, adding the destruction of a deluge to that of the fire.

A week had hardly passed ere the cry of fire again was raised, and, in a few hours, the whole section of the city on the other side of the Yaouza was in ashes. This region was mostly occupied by mechanics and manufacturers, and immense suffering ensued. Six weeks elapsed, and the inhabitants were just beginning to recover from their consternation, and were sweeping away the ashes to rebuild, when on the 20th of June, the wind at the time blowing a gale, the fearful cry of fire again rang through the streets. The palaces of the nobles were now in flames. The palace of the Kremlin itself, the gorgeous streets which surrounded it, and the whole of the grand faubourg in a few moments were glowing like a furnace. God had come with flaming fire as his minister of vengeance, and resistance was unavailing. The whole city was now in ashes, and presented the aspect of an immense funeral pile, over which was spread a pall of thick and black smoke. The wooden edifices disappeared entirely. Those of stone and brick presented a still more gloomy aspect, with only portions of their walls standing, crumbling and blackened. The howling of the tempest, the roar of the flames, the crash of falling buildings, and the shrieks of the inhabitants, were all frequently overpowered by the explosions of the powder magazines in the arsenals of the Kremlin.

To many of the people it seemed that the day of judgment had actually arrived, that the trump of the archangel was sounding, and that the final conflagration had arrived. The palace of the emperor, his treasures, his precious things, his arms, his venerated images and the archives of the kingdom, all were devoured. The destruction of the city was almost as entire and as signal a proof of the divine displeasure as that of Sodom and Gomorrah. Even the metropolitan bishop, who was in the church of the Assumption, pleading for divine interposition, was with great difficulty rescued. Smothered, and in a state almost of insensibility, he was conveyed through billows of flame and smoke. Seventeen hundred adults, besides uncounted children, perished in the fire.

For many days the wretched inhabitants were seen wandering about, in the fields and among the ruins, searching for their children, their friends or any articles of furniture which might, by chance, have escaped the flames. Many became maniacs, and their cries arose in all directions like the howlings of wild beasts. The emperor and the nobles, to avoid the spectacle of so much misery, retired to the village of Vorobeif, a few miles from Moscow. The whole population of Moscow, being in a state of despair, and reckless of consequences, were ripe for any conspiracy against an emperor and his favorites, whose iniquities, in their judgment, had brought down upon them the indignation of Heaven.

Several of the higher clergy, in cooeperation with some of the princes and nobles, resolved to arouse the energies of the populace to effect a change in the government. The Glinskys were the advisers and instigators of the king. Against them the fury of the populace was easily directed. These doomed minions of despotism were pursued with fury energized by despair. Ivan IV. was quite unable to protect them. The Glinskys, with their numerous partisans, had returned to Moscow to make arrangements for the rebuilding of the Kremlin when the mob fell upon them, and they were nearly all slain. In the eye of the populace, there was something so sacred in the person of their prince that no one thought of offering him any harm.

Ivan IV., astounded by this outbreak, was trembling in his palace at Vorobeif, and his truly pious wife, Anastasia, was, with tears, pleading with Heaven, when one of the clergy, an extraordinary man named Sylvestre, endowed with the boldness of an ancient prophet, entered the presence of the emperor. He was venerable in years, and his gray locks fell in clusters upon his shoulders. The boy king was overawed by his appearance. One word from that capricious king would cause the head of Sylvestre to fall from the block. But the intrepid Christian, with the solemnity of an embassador from God, with pointed finger and eye sparkling with indignation, thus addressed him:

"God's avenging hand is suspended over the head of a God-forgetting, man-oppressing tzar. Fire from heaven has consumed Moscow. The anger of the Most High has called up the people in revolt, and is spreading over the kingdom anarchy, fury and blood."

Then taking from his bosom a copy of the New Testament, he read to the king those divinely-inspired precepts which are alike applicable to monarchs and peasants, and, in tones subdued by sadness, urged the king to follow these sacred lessons. The warning was heeded, and Ivan became "a new creature." Whatever explanations philosophy may attempt of the sudden and marvelous change of the character of Ivan IV., the fact remains one of the marvels of history. He appears to have been immediately overwhelmed with a sense of his guilt; with tears he extended his hand to the courageous monitor, asked imploringly what he could do to avert the wrath and secure the favor of Heaven, and placed himself at once under the guidance of his new-found friend.

Sylvestre, a humble, world-renouncing Christian, sought nothing for himself, and would accept neither riches nor honors, but he remained near the throne to strengthen the young monarch in his good resolutions. There was a young man, Alexis Adachef, connected with the court who possessed a character of extraordinary nobleness and loveliness. He was of remarkable personal beauty, and his soul was pure and sensitive. Entirely devoted to the good of others, without the least apparent mixture of sordid motives, he engaged in the service of the tzar, and became to him a friend of priceless value. Alexis, mingling freely with the people, was acquainted with all their wants and griefs, and he cooeperating with Sylvestre, inspired the emperor with a heart to conceive and energy to execute all good things.

From this conjunction is to be dated the commencement of the glory of the reign of Ivan IV. The first endeavor of the reformed monarch was to quell the tumult among the people. Three days after the assassination of the Glinskys, a mob from Moscow rushed out to the village of Vorobeif, surrounded the palace and demanded one of the aunts of the emperor and another of the nobles who had become obnoxious to them. The king immediately opened a fire upon mob and dispersed them. This decisive act restored order. Ivan IV. immediately devoted all his energies to preparing dwellings for the houseless poor and in relieving their necessities. His whole soul seemed aroused to promote the happiness of his subjects, both temporal and spiritual, and all selfish considerations were apparently obliterated from his mind. In order to consolidate, by the aids of religion, the happy change effected in the government and in his own heart, the young sovereign shut himself up for several days in solitude, and, in the exercises of self-examination, fasting and prayer, made the entire consecration of himself to his Maker. He then assembled the bishops in one of the churches, and, in their presence, with touching words and tearful eyes, made confession of his faults, implored divine forgiveness, and then, with the calmness of a soul relieved of the burden of sin, received the sacrament of the Lord's Supper.

With true nobility of soul, he wished his penitence to be as conspicuous as his sins had been. He resolved to humble himself before his Maker in the presence of all Russia, that his subjects universally might understand the new principles which animated his heart, and the new desires which would enlist his energies. Every city in the empire received orders to send deputies to Moscow, chosen from all the ranks of society, to attend to matters of the utmost importance to the country. The Sabbath morning after their arrival, they were all assembled, an immense multitude, in one of the public squares of the city. The czar, accompanied by the clergy and the nobles, left the palace of the Kremlin to meet the deputies. The solemnity of the Sabbath hallowed the scene, and the people received their sovereign in profound silence.

The metropolitan bishop first offered a prayer. Ivan IV. then, standing on a platform, addressed the bishop in the following terms:

"Holy father! Your zeal for religion, your love for our country are well known to me; aid me in my good intentions. I lost, while an infant, my parents, and the nobles, who sought only their own aggrandizement, neglected entirely my education, and have usurped, in my name, wealth and power. They have enriched themselves by injustice, and have crushed the poor without any one daring to check their ambition. I was, as it were, both deaf and dumb in my deplorable ignorance, for I heard not the lamentations of the poor, and my words solaced them not in their sorrows. Who can tell the tears which have been shed, the blood which has flowed? For all these things the judgment of God is to be feared."

Bowing then on all sides to the people, the monarch continuing, thus addressed them:

"O, you my people, whom the All-powerful has entrusted to my care, I invoke this day, in my behalf, both your religion and the love you have for me. It is impossible to repair past faults, but I will hereafter be your protector from oppression and all wrong. Forget those griefs which shall never be renewed. Lay aside every subject of discord, and let Christian love fraternize your hearts. From this day I will be your judge and your defender."

Religious ceremonies, simple yet imposing, closed this scene. Alexis Adachef was appointed minister of justice, receiving special instructions to watch the empire with a vigilant eye, that the poor especially should be subject to no oppression. From that moment all the actions of the sovereign were guided by the counsels of Sylvestre and Adachef. Ivan IV. assembled around him a council of his wisest and best men, and ever presided in person over their meetings. With great energy he entered upon the work of establishing a code of laws, which should be based upon the love of justice and good order. In the year 1550 this important code was promulgated, which forms almost the basis of Russian civilization.

On the 23d of February, 1551, a large convention of the clergy, of the nobles and of the principal citizens of the empire, was assembled at the Kremlin, and the emperor presented to them, for their own consideration and approval, the code of laws which had been framed. The mind of Ivan IV. expanded rapidly under these noble toils, and in a speech of great eloquence he urged them to examine these laws, to point out any defects and to cooeperate with him in every endeavor for the prosperity of Russia.

After having thus settled the affairs of the State, the monarch turned his attention to those of the Church, urging the clergy to devote themselves to the work of ecclesiastical reform; to add simplicity to the ceremonies of religion, to prepare books of piety for the people, to train up a thoroughly instructed clergy for the pulpits, to establish rules for the decorous observance of divine worship, to abolish useless monasteries, to purify the convents of all immorality, and to insist that ecclesiastics, of every grade, should be patterns of piety for their flocks. The clergy eagerly engaged in this plan of reform, and vied with their Christian monarch in their efforts for the public weal.

Among the number of projects truly worthy of the grand prince, we must not neglect particular mention of his attempt to enrich Russia by encouraging the emigration, from other lands, of men distinguished in the arts and sciences. A distinguished German, named Schlit, being in Moscow in 1547, informed the tzar of the rapid progress Germany was making in civilization and enlightenment. Ivan IV. listened attentively, and after many interviews and protracted questionings, proposed that he should return to Germany as an envoy from Russia, and invite, in his name, to Moscow, artists, physicians, apothecaries, printers, mechanics, and also literary men, skilled in the languages, dead or living, and learned theologians.

Schlit accepted the mission and hastened to Augsburg, where the Emperor Charles V. was then presiding over a diet. Schlit presented to him a letter from Ivan IV. relative to this business. Charles was a little doubtful as to the expediency of allowing illustrious men from his empire to emigrate and thus add to the consideration and power of a rival kingdom. Nevertheless, after a long deliberation with the assembled States, he consented to gratify the tzar, on consideration that he would engage, by oath, not to allow any of the artists or the literati to pass from Russia into Turkey, and that he would not employ their talents in any manner hurtful to the German empire. Turkey was at that time assuming an attitude so formidable, that it was deemed expedient to increase the power of Russia, as that kingdom might thus more effectually aid as a barrier against the Turks; while, at the same time, it was deemed a matter of the utmost moment that Turkey should receive no aid whatever from Christian civilization.

Charles V. accordingly gave Schlit a written commission to raise his corps of emigrants. He soon assembled one hundred and twenty illustrious men at Lubeck, where they were to embark for Russia. But, in the mean time, the opposition had gained ground, and even Charles V. himself had become apprehensive that Russia, thus enlightened, might attain to formidable power. He accordingly had Schlit arrested. The corps of emigrants, thus deprived of their leader, and consequently disheartened, soon dispersed. Several months passed away before Ivan IV. received intelligence of the sad fate of his envoy. Though the plan thus failed, nevertheless, quite a number of these German artists, notwithstanding the prohibition of the emperor, effected their escape from Germany, secretly entered Russia, and engaged in the service of the tzar, were they were very efficient in contributing to Russian civilization.

The barbarian horde at Kezan still continued to annoy Russia with very many incursions. Some were mere petty forays, others were extended invasions, but all were alike merciless and bloody. In February, 1550, Ivan IV., then but twenty two years of age, placed himself at the head of a large army to descend the Volga and punish the horde. The monarch was young and totally inexperienced in war. A series of terrible disasters from storms and floods thinned his ranks, and the monarch in great dejection returned to Moscow to replenish his forces. Again, early in December, he hastened to meet his army which had been rendezvoused at Nigni Novgorod, on the Volga, about three hundred miles west of Moscow. In the early spring they descended the river, and in great force encamped before the walls of Kezan. The walls were of wood. The Russians were sixty thousand strong, and were aided with several batteries of artillery. The assault was immediately commenced, and for one whole day the battle raged with equal valor on the part of the assailants and the defendants. The next day a storm arose, the rain falling abundantly and freezing as it touched the ground. The encampment was flooded, and the assailants, unable to make any progress, were again compelled to beat a retreat. These reverses mortified the young tzar, though he succeeded in effecting a treaty with the barbarians, which in some degree covered his disgrace.

But the horde, entirely disorganized, paid no regard to treaties and continued their depredations. Again, in the year 1552, the tzar prepared another expedition to check their ravages. He announced to the council, in a very solemn session, that the time had arrived when it was necessary, at all hazards, to check the pride of the horde.

"God is my witness," said he, "that I do not seek vain glory, but I wish to secure the repose of my people. How shall I be able in the day of judgment to say to the Most High, 'Behold me and the subjects thou hast entrusted to my care,' if I do not shelter them from the eternal enemies of Russia, from these barbarians from whom one can have neither peace nor truce?"

The lords endeavored to persuade the emperor to remain at Moscow, and to entrust the expedition to his experienced generals, but he declared that he would not expose his army to perils and fatigues which he was not also ready and willing to share. Though many were in favor of a winter's campaign, as Kezan was surrounded with streams and lakes which the ice would then bridge, yet Ivan decided upon the summer as more favorable for the transportation of his army down the rivers. By the latter part of May the waters of the Volga and the Oka were covered with bateaux laden with artillery and with military stores, and the banks of those streams were crowded with troops upon the march. Nigni Novgorod, where the Oka empties into the Volga, was as usual the appointed place of rendezvous. The 16th of June Ivan took leave of the Empress Anastasia. Her emotion at parting was so great that she fell fainting into the arms of her husband.

From his palace Ivan proceeded to the church of the Assumption, where the blessing of Heaven was implored, and then issuing orders that the bishops, all over the empire, should offer prayers daily for the success of the expedition, he mounted his horse, and accompanied by the cavalry of his guard, took the route to Kolumna, a city on the Oka, about a hundred miles south of Moscow.

It will be remembered that the Tartar horde existed in several vast encampments. One of these encampments occupied Tauride, as the region north of the Crimea, and including that peninsula, was then called. These barbarians, thinking that the Russian army was now five hundred miles west of Moscow at Kezan, and that the empire was thus defenseless, with a vast army of invasion were on the eager march for Moscow. Ivan at Kolumna heard joyfully of their approach, for he was prepared to meet them and to chastise them with merited severity. On the 22d of July, the horde, unconscious of their danger, surrounded the walls of Toola, a city about a hundred miles south of Kolumna. Ivan himself, heading a division of the army, fell fiercely upon them, and the Tartars were totally routed, losing artillery, camels, banners and a large number of prisoners. They were pursued a long distance as in wild rout they fled back to their own country.

This brilliant success greatly elated the army. Ivan IV., sending his trophies to Moscow, as an encouragement to the capital, again put his army in motion towards Kezan. The relation which existed between the sovereign and his pastor, the faithful metropolitan bishop, may be inferred from the following communications which passed between them, equally worthy of them both.

"May the soul of your majesty," wrote the metropolitan, "remain pure and chaste. Be humble in prosperity and courageous in adversity. The piety of a sovereign saves and blesses his empire." The tzar replied,

"Worthy pastor of the church, we thank you for your Christian instructions. We will engrave them on our heart. Continue to us your wise counsels, and aid us also with your prayers. We advance against the enemy. May the Lord soon enable us to secure peace and repose to the Christians."

On the 13th of August, with his assembled army, he reached Viask on the Volga, about fifty miles above Kezan. Here he encamped to concentrate and rest his troops after so long a march. Barges freighted with provisions, merchandise and munitions of war, were incessantly arriving from the vast regions watered by the Volga and the Oka. As by magic an immense city spread out over the green plain. Tents glistened in the sun, banners waved, and horsemen and footmen, in all the gorgeous panoply of war, extended as far as the eye could reach.

While resting here, Ivan IV. sent an embassy to Kezan, saying that the tzar sought their repentance and amendment, not their destruction; that if they would deliver up to punishment the authors of sedition, and would give satisfactory pledges of future friendliness, they might live in peace under the paternal government of the tzar. To this message a contemptuous and defiant response was returned by the Tartar khan. The answer was closed with these words: "We are anxiously awaiting your arrival, and are all ready to commence our festivities."

That very day, the Russian army, amounting to one hundred and fifty thousand men, arrived within sight of Kezan. A prairie four miles in width, carpeted with flowers, extended from the Volga to the range of mountains at the base of which the city stood. The Tartars, abounding in wealth, by the aid of engineers and architects from all lands, had surrounded the city with massive walls defended with towers, ramparts and bastions in the most formidable strength of military art as then known. Within the walls rose the minarets of innumerable mosques and the turrets of palaces embellished with all the gorgeousness of oriental wealth and taste. The horde, relying upon the strength of their fortification, remained behind their walls, where they prepared for a defense which they doubted not would be successful. Two days were employed in disembarking the artillery and the munitions of war.

While thus engaged, a deserter escaped from the city and announced to the tzar that the fortress was abundantly supplied with artillery, provisions and all means of defense; that the garrison consisted of thirty-two thousand seven hundred veteran soldiers; that a numerous corps of cavalry had been detached to scour the surrounding country and raise an army of cavalry and infantry to assail the besiegers in flank and rear, while the garrisons should be prepared to sally from their entrenchments.

On the 23d of August, at the dawn of day, the army, advancing from the river, approached the city. The moment the sun appeared in the horizon, at the sound of innumerable trumpets, the whole army arrested their steps and the sacred standard was unfurled, presenting the effigy of Jesus Christ, our Saviour, surmounted by a golden cross. Ivan IV. and his staff alighted from their horses, and, beneath the shadow of the banner, with prayers and other exercises of devotion, received the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. The monarch then rode along the ranks, and, in an impassioned harangue, roused the soldiers to the noblest enthusiasm. Exalting the glory of those who might fall in the defense of religion, he assured them in the name of Russia that their wives and their children should never be forgotten, but that they should be the objects of his special care and should ever enjoy protection and abundance. In conclusion, he assured them that he was determined to sacrifice his own life, if necessary, to secure the triumph of the cross. These words were received with shouts of acclaim. The chaplain of Ivan, elevated in the view of the whole army, pronounced a solemn benediction upon the sovereign and upon all the troops, and then bowing to the sacred standard, exclaimed,

"O Lord, it is in thy name we now march against the infidels."

With waving banners and pealing trumpets, the army was now conducted before the walls of the city. Every thing there seemed abandoned and in profound silence and solitude. Not the slightest movement could be perceived. Not an individual appeared upon the walls. Many of the Russians began to rejoice, imagining that the tzar of Kezan, struck with terror, had fled with all his army into the forest. But the generals, more experienced, suspected a snare, and regarded the aspect of affairs as a motive for redoubled prudence. With great caution they made their dispositions for commencing the siege. As a division of seven thousand troops were crossing a bridge which they had thrown over a ditch near the walls, suddenly a violent uproar succeeded the profound silence which had reigned in the city. The air was filled with cries of rage. The massive gates rolled open upon their hinges, and fifteen thousand mounted Tartars, armed to the teeth, rushed upon the little band with a shock utterly resistless, and, in a few moments, the Russians were cut to pieces in the presence of the whole army. The victorious Tartars, having achieved this signal exploit, swept back again into the city and the gates were closed. This event taught the Russians prudence.

Anticipating a long siege, a city of tents was reared, with its streets and squares, beyond the reach of the guns from the walls. Three churches of canvas were constructed, where worship was daily held. Day after day, the siege was conducted with the usual events witnessed around a beleaguered fortress. There were the thunderings of artillery, the explosion of mines, fierce and bloody sorties, the shrieks of the combatants, and the city ever burning by flames enkindled by red hot shot thrown over the walls. The Russian batteries grew every day more and more formidable, and the ramparts crumbled beneath their blows. The Russian army was so numerous that the soldiers relieved themselves at the batteries, and the bombardment was continued day and night. At length a Tartar army was seen descending the distant mountains and hastening to the relief of the garrison. Ivan dispatched one half his army to meet them. The Tartars, after a sanguinary conflict, were cut to pieces. As the division returned covered with dust and blood, and exulting in their great achievement, Ivan displayed the prisoners, the banners, and the spoil he had taken, before the walls of the city. A herald was then sent, to address these words to the besieged:

"Ivan promises you life, liberty and pardon for the past, if you will submit yourselves to him."

The response returned was,

"We had rather die by our own pure hands, than perish by those of miserable Christians."

This answer was followed by a storm of all the missiles of war.

The monarch, wishing as far as possible to save the city from destruction, and to avoid the effusion of blood, directed a German engineer to sink a mine under an important portion of the walls. The miners proceeded until they could hear the footsteps of the Kezanians over their heads. Eleven tons of powder were placed in the vault. On the 5th of September the match was applied. The explosion was awful. Large portions of the wall, towers, buildings, rocks, the mutilated bodies of men, were thrown hundreds of feet into the air and fell upon the city, crushing the dwellings and the inhabitants. The besieged were seized with mortal terror, not knowing to what to attribute so dire a calamity. The Russians, who were prepared for the explosion, waving their swords, with loud outcries rushed in at the breach. But the Kezanians, soon recovering from their consternation, with their breasts and their artillery presented a new rampart, and beat back the foe. Thus, day after day, the horrible carnage continued. Within the city and without the city, death held high carnival. There were famine and pestilence and misery in all imaginable forms within the walls. In the camp of the besiegers, there were mutilation, and death's agonies and despair. Army after army of Tartars came to the help of the besieged, but they were mown down mercilessly by Russian sabers, and trampled beneath Russian hoofs.

Ivan, morning and evening, with his generals, entered the church to implore the blessing of God upon his enterprise. In no other way could he rescue Russia from the invasion of these barbarians, than by thus appealing to the energies of the sword. In the contemplation of such a tragedy, the mind struggles in bewilderment, and can only say, "Be still and know that I am God."



CHAPTER XIV.

THE REIGN OF IVAN IV.—CONTINUED.

From 1552 to 1557.

Siege of Kezan.—Artifices of War.—The Explosion of Mines.—The Final Assault.—Complete Subjugation of Kezan.—Gratitude and Liberality of the Tzar.—Return To Moscow.—Joy of the inhabitants.—Birth of An Heir To the Crown.—Insurrection in Kezan.—The Insurrection Quelled.—Conquest of Astrachan.—The English Expedition in Search of a North-East Passage to India.—The Establishment at Archangel.—Commercial Relations Between France and Russia.—Russian Embassy to England.—Extension of Commerce.

The Russians had now been a month before the walls of Kezan. Ten thousand of the defenders had already been slain. The autumnal sun was rapidly declining, and the storms of winter were approaching. Secretly they now constructed, a mile and a half from the camp, an immense tower upon wheels, and rising higher than the walls of the city. Upon the platform of this tower they placed sixteen cannon, of the largest caliber, which were worked by the most skillful gunners. In the night this terrible machine was rolled up to the walls, and with the first dawn of the morning opened its fire upon the dwellings and the streets. The carnage was at first horrible, but the besieged at length took refuge in subterranean walks and covered ways, where they indomitably continued the conflict. The artillery, placed upon the walls of Kezan, were speedily dismounted by the batteries on the tower.

A new series of mines beneath the walls were now constructed by the Russian engineers, which were to operate with destructive power, hitherto unrecorded in the annals of war. On the 1st of October the tzar announced to the army that the mines were ready to be fired, and wished them to prepare for the general assault. While one half of the troops continued the incessant bombardment, the other half were assembled in the churches to purify themselves for the conflict by confession, penitence, prayer and the partaking of the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. The divisions then exchanged that the whole army might prostrate itself before God. Ivan IV. himself retired with his confessor and passed several hours in earnest devotion. The night preceding the assault there was no repose in either camp. The Kezanians, who were anxiously awaiting events, had perceived an extraordinary movement among the Russians, as each battalion was guided to the spot whence it was to rush over the ruins immediately after the explosion. Forty-eight tons (tonneaux) of powder had been placed in the mines.

The morning of the 2d of October dawned serene and cloudless. The earliest light revealed the Russians and the Kezanians each at their posts. The moment the sun appeared above the horizon the explosion took place. First the earth trembled and rose and fell for many miles as if shaken by an earthquake. A smothered roar, swelling into pealing thunder ensued, which appalled every mind. Immense volumes of smoke, thick and suffocating, instantaneously rolled over the city and the beleaguering camp, converting day into night. A horrible melange of timbers, rocks, guns and mutilated bodies of men, women and children were hurled into the air through this storm cloud of war, and fell in hideous ruin alike upon the besiegers and the besieged. At the moment when the explosion took place, one of the bishops in the church was reading the words of our Saviour foretelling the peaceful reign of fraternity and of heavenly love, "Henceforth there shall be but one flock and one shepherd." Strange contrast between the spirit of heaven and the woes of a fallen world!

For a moment even the Russians, though all prepared for the explosion, were paralyzed by its direful effects. But instantly recovering, they raised the simultaneous shout, "God is with us," and rushing over the debris, of ruin and blood, penetrated the city. The Tartars met them with the fury of despair, appealing, in their turn, to Allah and Mohammed. Soon the Russian banner floated over tottering towers and blackened walls, though for many hours the battle raged with fierceness, which human energies can not exceed.

Prince Vorotinsky, early in the afternoon, soiled with blood and blackened with smoke, rode from the ruins of the city into the presence of Ivan, and bowing, said,

"Sire, rejoice; your bravery and your good fortune have secured the victory. Kezan is ours. The khan is in your power, the people are slain or taken captive. Unspeakable riches have fallen into our hands."

"Let God be glorified," cried Ivan, raising his eyes and his hands to heaven. Then taking the sacred standard in his own hands, he entered the city, planted the banner in one of the principal squares, ordered a Te Deum there to be chanted, and then directed that upon that spot the foundation should be laid of the first Christian temple. All the booty Ivan surrendered to the army, saying,

"The only riches I desire, are the repose and the honor of Russia."

Then assembling his troops around him, he thus addressed them:

"Valiant lords, generals, officers, all of you who in this solemn day have suffered for the glory of God, for religion, your country and your emperor, you have acquired immortal glory. Never before did a people develop such bravery; never before was so signal a victory gained. How can I suitably reward your glorious actions?

"And you who repose on the field of honor, noble children of Russia, you are already in the celestial realms, in the midst of Christian martyrs and all resplendent with glory. This is the recompense with which God has rewarded you. But as for us, it is our duty to transmit your names to future ages, and the sacred list in which they shall be enrolled shall be placed in the temple of the Lord, that they may ever live in the memory of men.

"You, who bathed in your blood, still live to experience the effects of my love and my gratitude; all of you brave warriors now before me, listen attentively to my words, and repose perfect confidence in the promises I make to you this day, that I will cherish you and protect you to the end of my life."

These were not idle words. Ivan personally visited the wounded, cheered them with his sympathy, and ever after watched over them with parental care. His brother-in-law, Daniel, was immediately sent an envoy to the empress and to the metropolitan bishop, to inform them of the victory. The day was closed by a festival, in a gorgeous tent, where all the principal officers and lords were invited to dine with the tzar. A proclamation was addressed to all the tribes and nations of the conquered region.

"Come," said the Russian tzar, "without fear to me. The past is forgotten; for perfidy has received its reward. I shall require of you only the tribute which you have heretofore paid to the tzars of Kezan."

On the 3d of October the dead were buried and the whole city was cleansed. The next day, Ivan, accompanied by his clergy, his council and the chiefs of his army, made his triumphal entrance, and laid, on the designated spot, the corner-stone of the cathedral church of the Visitation. He also made the tour of the city, bearing the sacred banner, and consecrating Kezan to the true God. The clergy sprinkled holy water upon the streets and upon the walls of the houses, imploring the benediction of Heaven upon this new rampart of Christianity. They prayed that the inhabitants might be preserved from all maladies, that they might be strengthened to repel every enemy, and that the city might for ever remain the glorious heritage of Russia. Having traversed the whole city and designated the places for the erection of churches, the tzar gave orders for the immediate rebuilding of the fortifications, and then, accompanied by his court, he took possession of the palace of the khan, over which now floated the banners of the cross.

It was thus that one of the most considerable principalities of the descendants of Genghis Khan fell into the hands of Russia. Kezan was founded upon the ruins of ancient Bulgaria, and, situated upon the frontiers of Russia, had long filled the empire with terror. Ivan immediately established a new government for the city and the surrounding region, which was occupied by five different nations, powerful in numbers and redoubtable in war. An army of about ten thousand men was left to garrison the fortresses of the city. On the 11th of October the emperor prepared to return to Moscow. Many of the lords counseled that he should remain at Kezan until spring, that the more distant regions might be overawed by the presence of the army. But the monarch, impatient to see his spouse and to present himself in Moscow fresh from these fields of glory, rejected these sage counsels and adopted the advice of those who also wished to repose beneath the laurels they had already acquired. Passing the night of the 11th of October on the banks of the Volga, he embarked on the morning of the 12th in a barge to ascend the stream, while the cavalry followed along upon the banks. The emperor passed one day at Sviazk and then proceeded to Nigni Novgorod. The whole city, men, women and children, flocked to meet him. They could not find words strong enough to express their gratitude for their deliverance from the terrible incursions of the horde. They fell at their monarch's feet, bathed his hands with their tears and implored Heaven's blessing upon him.

From Nigni Novgorod the emperor took the land route through Balakna and Vladimir to Moscow. On the way he met a courier from the Empress Anastasia, announcing to him that she had given birth to a son whom she named Dmitri. The tzar, in the tumult of his joy, leaped from his horse, passionately embraced Trakhaniot, the herald, and then falling upon his knees with tears trickling down his cheeks, rendered thanks to God for the gift. Not knowing how upon the spot to recompense the herald for the blissful tidings, he took the royal cloak from his own shoulders and spread it over Trakhaniot, and passed into his hands the magnificent charger from which the monarch had just alighted. He spent the night of the 28th of October in a small village but a few miles from Moscow, all things being prepared for his triumphant entrance into the capital the next day. With the earliest light of the morning he advanced toward the city. The crowd, even at that early hour, was so great that, for a distance of four miles, there was but a narrow passage left through the dense ranks of the people for the tzar and his guard. The emperor advanced slowly, greeted by the acclaim of more than a million of his people. With uncovered head he bowed to the right and to the left, while the multitude incessantly cried, "May Heaven grant long life to our pious tzar, conqueror of barbarians and saviour of Christians."

At the gate he was met by the metropolitan, the bishops, the lords and the princes ranged in order of procession under the sacred banner. Ivan IV. dismounted and addressed them in touching words of congratulation. The response of the metropolitan was soulfull, flooding the eyes of the monarch and exciting all who heard it to the highest enthusiasm.

"As for us, O tzar," he said, in conclusion, "in testimony of our gratitude for your toils and your glorious exploits, we prostrate ourselves before you."

At these words the metropolitan, the clergy, the dignitaries and the people fell upon their knees before their sovereign, bowing their faces to the ground. There were sobbings and shoutings, cries of benedictions and transports of joy. The monarch was now conducted to the Kremlin, which had been rebuilt, and attended mass in the church of the Assumption. He then hastened to the palace to greet his spouse. The happy mother was in the chamber of convalescence with her beautiful boy at her side. For once, at least, there was joy in a palace.

The enthusiasm which reigned in the capital and throughout all Russia was such as has never been surpassed. The people, trained to faith and devotion, crowded the churches, which were constantly open, addressing incessant thanksgivings to Heaven. The preachers exhausted the powers of eloquence in describing the grandeur of the actions of their prince—his exertions, fatigues, bravery, the stratagems of war during the siege, the despairing ferocity of the Kezanians and the final and glorious result.

After several days passed in the bosom, of his family, Ivan gave a grand festival in his palace, on the 8th of November. The metropolitan, the bishops, the abbes, the princes, and all the lords and warriors who had distinguished themselves during the siege of Kezan, were invited. "Never," say the annalists, "had there before been seen at Moscow a fete so sumptuous, joy so intense, or liberality so princely." The fete continued for three days, during which the emperor did not cease to distribute, with a liberal hand, proofs of his munificence. His bounty was extended from the metropolitan bishop down to the humblest soldier distinguished for his bravery or his wounds. The monarch, thus surrounded with glory, beloved by his people, the conqueror of a foreign empire and the pacificator of his own, distinguished for the nobleness of his personal character and the grandeur of his exploits, alike wise as a legislator and humane as a man, was still but twenty-two years of age. His career thus far presents a phenomenon quite unparalleled in history.

As soon as Anastasia was able to leave her couch she accompanied the tzar to the monastery of Yroitzky, where his infant son Dmitri received the ordinance of baptism. It seems to be the doom of life that every calm should be succeeded by a storm; that days of sunshine should be followed by darkness and tempests. Early in the year 1553 tidings reached Moscow that the barbarians at Kezan were in bloody insurrection. The Russian troops had been worsted in many conflicts; very many of them were slain. The danger was imminent that the insurrection would prove successful, and that the Russians would be entirely exterminated from Kezan. The imprudence of the emperor, in withdrawing before the conquest was consolidated, was now apparent to all. To add to the consternation the monarch himself was suddenly seized with an inflammatory fever; the progress of the malady was so rapid that almost immediately his life was despaired of. The mind of the tzar was unclouded, and being informed of his danger, without any apparent agitation he called for his secretary to draw up his last will and testament. The monarch nominated for his successor his infant son, Dmitri. To render the act more imposing, he requested the lords, who were assembled in an adjoining saloon, to take the oath of allegiance to his son. Immediately the spirit of revolt was manifested. Many of the lords dreaded the long minority of the infant prince, and the government of the regency which would probably ensue. The contest, loud and angry, reached the ears of the king, and he sent for the refractory lords to approach his bedside. Ivan, burning with fever, with hardly strength to speak, and expecting every hour to die, turned his eyes to them reproachfully and said,

"Who then do you wish to choose for your tzar? I am too feeble to speak long. Dmitri, though in his cradle, is none the less your legitimate sovereign. If you are deaf to the voice of conscience you must answer for it before God."

One of the nobles frankly responded,

"Sire, we are all devoted to you and to your son. But we fear the regency of Yourief, who will undoubtedly govern Russia in the name of an infant who has not yet attained his intellectual faculties. This is the true cause of our solicitude. To how many calamities were we not exposed during the government of the lords, before your majesty had attained the age of reason. It is necessary to avoid the recurrence of such woes."