[1353A.D.]
Simeon having died without children, in 1353, after a reign of twelve years, Ivan II, his brother, purchased the sovereignty with the wealth of Kalita. After the six years’ reign of Ivan II, this system and this order of succession were, indeed, transiently interrupted in the person of a prince, alien to the branch of Moscow; but we shall soon see the great Dmitri Donskoiestablish them as fixed principles; that prince did not neglect to increase the wealth[17]of his grandfather Ivan. The people had given to Ivan the surname of The Purse; as much, perhaps, with allusion to his treasures, as to the purse, filled with alms for the poor, which is said to have been always carried before him. At a later period, the constantly progressive riches of the grand princes of Moscow enabled them to enfeoff directly from the crown lands three hundred thousand boyar followers; and next, to keep up a body of regular troops, sufficiently strong to reduce their enemies and their subjects.[18]
[1359A.D.]
This system of concentration of power which Ivan Kalita commenced, by means of his wealth, by the union of the sceptre with the tiara, and by restoring the direct order of succession; his horrible but skilful macchiavellism against the princes holding appanages; finally, the fifty years’ repose which, thanks to his policy, and to their dissensions, the Tatars permitted Russia to enjoy; these are the circumstances which entitle Ivan to be considered as standing next after Alexander Nevski among the most remarkable grand princes of the third period. It was he who had the sagacity on this stubborn soil to open and to trace so deeply the path which led to monarchical unity, and to point out its direction so clearly to his successors that they had nothing to do but to persevere in it, as the only safe road which it was then possible for Russia to follow.
This concentration of power brought about great changes from 1320 to 1329; as, at that epoch, all the Russian princes in concert solicited from the horde the recall of the Tatar governors. It was then that, more firmly fixed, the throne of the grand princes became the rallying point of the Russians: along with the consciousness of their strength, it inspired them with a public spirit, which emboldened them. This good understanding was, in reality, an effect of the ascendency which a direct and sustained succession, in a single branch of the Ruriks, had already given to it over all the others.
In fact, sometimes natural justice, sometimes oriental negligence and cupidity, often the fear of being disobeyed, and lastly, and especially, the power and riches of the princes of Moscow—whose presents always surpassed those of the other princes—all these motives had induced the khans to allow the succession to the grand principality to descend regularly from father to son in the branch of Moscow.[19]This natural order of succession Dmitri Donskoi, in 1359, established by a treaty, in which his kinsmen consentedto renounce the mode of succession from brother to brother. It was the most remarkable among them, Vladimir the Brave, who was the first to sign this act. In several other conventions, Vladimir acknowledged himself the vassal and lieutenant, not merely of Dmitri, but also of Vasili his son, and even of the son of Vasili, when he was only five years of age. This example, set by a prince who, of all the possessors of appanages, was the most renowned for his prudence and his valour, was followed by the others. Thus, like the Capets, kings of France, did Ivan I, and particularly Dmitri Donskoi, begin the monarchy by restoring the direct succession, in causing, while they lived, their eldest sons to be recognised as their successors. Afterwards we see Vasili, son of Dmitri, persevering in this practice, and Vasili the Blind, his grandson, raising up his tottering throne, and preparing the autocracy of the fourth Russian period, by associating with himself his next heir, the great Ivan III.
It is easy to conceive the infallible effect of this order of succession, and with what promptitude it must necessarily have extended and consolidated the power of the grand princes. In fact, the ideas of the father being transmitted to the son by education, their policy was more consistently followed up, and their ambition had a more direct object. The nobles could not fail to attach themselves more devotedly to a prince whose son and heir, growing up amongst them, would know only them, and would recompense their services in the persons of their children; for the necessary consequence of the succession of power in the same branch, was the succession of favours and dignities in the same families.
Even before Dmitri had established the principle, the boyars saw the advantages which this order of succession held out to them. Here, as elsewhere, the fact preceded the law. This was the reason of their restoring the direct line in the grandson of Ivan Kalita; it was they who made him grand prince at the age of twelve years, and who subjected the other princes to him. In like manner, about 1430, they maintained this order of succession in Vasili the Blind. Contemporary annalists declare that these ancient boyars of the grand principality detested the descent from brother to brother; for, in that system, each prince of the lateral branch arrived from his appanage with other boyars, whom he always preferred, and whom he could not satisfy and establish but at the expense of the old. On the other hand, the most important and transmissible places, the most valuable favours, an hereditary and more certain protection, and greater hopes, attracted a military nobility around the grand princes. In a very short time, their elevation to the level of the humbled petty princes flattered their vanity, and completed their junction with the principal authority. This circumstance explains the last words of Dmitri Donskoi to his boyars, when he recommended his son to their protection. “Under my reign,” said he, “you were not boyars, but really Russian princes.” In fact (to cite only some examples), we see that his armies were as often commanded by boyars as by princes, and that, from this epoch, it was no longer a prince of the blood, but a boyar of the grand prince, who was his lieutenant at Novgorod.
Nay, more, when the succession from father to son was once established, there were, at the very beginning, two minorities (those of Dmitri, and of Vasili, his grandson), during which the boyars composed the council of regency, governed the state, and were the equals, and even the superiors, of the princes who held appanages. This will explain why, in 1392, the boyars of Boris, the last prince of Suzdal, gave up him and his appanage to Vasili Dmitrievitch of Moscow. The motive is to be found only in theirinterest; as the grand prince of Moscow entrusted them with the government of the appanages, and thus substituted the nobles in the place of the princes.
A very remarkable circumstance, with respect to Dmitri Donskoi, is, on the one hand, the energy with which he subdued those princes, and, on the other, his circumspect treatment of his boyars. According to Karamsin, it is more especially to their pride and jealousy of the tyssiatchsky of Moscow (the boyar of the city, or of the commune, a sort of civil and military tribune, elected by the people), that we are to attribute the abolition of that office by Donskoi. During the preceding reign, another tyssiatchsky of Moscow, who claimed precedence of even the boyars of the grand prince, had been murdered by them.
Dmitri Donskoi
Dmitri Donskoi
When this hereditary protection afforded by the grand princes of the Moscow branch was once fairly established, the nobles of each appanage, who constituted its army, had thenceforth an asylum, and, as it were, a tribunal for redress, to which they could appeal whenever they were dissatisfied with their prince. It was this which made Tver fall before Ivan Kalita; for the sovereign prince of that first and last rival of Moscow having preferred to his boyars the people of Pskov, who had defended him, the former withdrew to Moscow.
The power of Ivan Kalita being once raised by the Tatars’ aid, and by the re-establishment of the direct line of succession, and thoroughly developed by his son and grandson, Simeon the Proud and Dmitri Donskoi, it followed, as a natural consequence, that he who was most able to reward and to punish drew around him, and retained, the whole of the nobles. These constituted the sole strength of the appanaged princes; their defection, therefore, completed the subjugation of the princes. Dmitri Donskoi was, therefore, in reality sovereign, as is proved by his treaties with the princes who held appanages, all of whom he reduced to be his vassals. And, accordingly, notwithstanding the appanages which he gave to his sons, and the dissensions which arose out of that error—an error as yet, perhaps, unavoidable—the attachment of the nobles, for which we have just assigned a reason, always replaced the legitimate heir on the throne.
[1366A.D.]
Already, so early as about 1366, the Russian princes could no longer venture to contend against their lord paramount by any other means than by denunciations to the horde; but to what khan could they be addressed? Discord had created several: what result was to be hoped from them? Divided among themselves, the Tatar armies had ceased to be an available force. The journeys to the Golden Horde, which had originally contributed to keep the Russian princes in awe, now served to afford them an insight into the weakness of their enemies. The grand princes returned from the horde with the confidence that they might usurp with impunity; and their competitorswith envoys and letters, which even they themselves well knew would be of no avail. It was, then, obvious in Russia, that the only protecting power was at Moscow: to have recourse to its support was a matter of necessity. The petty princes could obtain it only by the sacrifice of their independence; and thus all of them became vassals to the grand prince Dmitri.
Never did a great man arise more opportunely than this Dmitri. It was a propitious circumstance, that the dissensions of the Tatars gave them full occupation during the eighteen years subsequent to the first three of his reign:[20]this, in the first place, allowed him time to extinguish the devastating fury of Olgerd the Lithuanian, son of Gedimin, father of Iagello, and conqueror of all Lithuania, Volhinia, Smolensk, Kiev, and even of Taurida; secondly, to unite several principalities with his throne; and lastly, to compel the other princes, and even the prince of Tver, to acknowledge his paramount authority.
The contest with the latter was terrible: four times did Dmitri overcome Michael, and four times did the prince of Tver, aided by his son-in-law, the great Olgerd, prince of Lithuania, rise again victorious. In this obstinate conflict, Moscow itself was twice besieged, and must have fallen, had it not been for its stone walls, the recent work of the first regency of the Muscovite boyars. But, at length, Olgerd died; and Dmitri, who, but three years before, could appear only on his knees at the horde, now dared to refuse the khan his tribute, and to put to death the insolent ambassador who had been sent to claim it.
We have seen that, fifty years earlier, a similar instance of temerity caused the branch of Tver to fall beneath that of Moscow; but times were changed. The triple alliance of the primate, the boyars, and the grand prince, had now restored to the Russians a confidence in their own strength: they had acquired boldness from a conviction of the power of their grand prince, and from the dissensions of the Tatars. Some bands of the latter, wandering in Muscovy in search of plunder, were defeated; at last the Tatars have fled before the Russians! they are become their slaves, the delusion of their invincibility is no more!
The burst of fury which the khan exhibited on learning the murder of his representative, accordingly served as a signal for the confederation of all the Russian princes against the prince of Tver. He was compelled to submit to the grand prince, and to join with him against the horde.
[1380A.D.]
Russia now began to feel that there were three things which were indispensably necessary to her; the establishment of the direct succession, the concentration of the supreme power, and the union of all parties against the Tatars. The movement in this direction was taken very opportunely; for it happened simultaneously that the Mongolian chief, Mamai, was also disembarrassed of his civil wars (1380), and he hastened with all his forces into Russia to re-establish his slighted authority; but he found the grand prince Dmitri confronting him on the Don, at the head of the combined Russian princes and an army of two hundred thousand[21]men. Dmitri put it to the choice of his troops whether they would go to encounter the foe, who were encamped at no great distance on the opposite shore of the river, or remain on this side and wait the attack? With one voice they declared for goingover to the assault. The grand prince immediately transported his battalions across the river, and then turned the vessels adrift, in order to cut off all hopes of escaping by retreat, and inspire his men with a more desperate valour against an enemy who was three times stronger in numbers. The fight began. The Russians defended themselves valiantly against the furious attacks of the Tatars; the hosts of combatants pressed in such numbers to the field of battle, that multitudes of them were trampled under foot by the tumult of men and horses. The Tatars, continually relieved by fresh bodies of soldiers as any part was fatigued by the conflict, seemed at length to have victory on their side. Nothing but the impossibility of getting over the river, and the firm persuasion that death would directly transport them from the hands of the infidel enemy into the mansions of bliss, restrained the Russians from a general flight. But all at once, at the very moment when everything seemed to be lost, a detachment of the grand prince’s army, which he had stationed as a reserve, and which till now had remained inactive and unobserved, came up in full force, fell upon the rear of the Tatars, and threw them into such amazement and terror that they fled, and left the Russians masters of the field. This momentous victory, however, cost them dear; thousands lay dead upon the ground, and the whole army was occupied eight days in burying the bodies of the dead Russians: those of the Tatars were left uninterred upon the ground. It was in harmony of this achievement that Dmitri received his honourable surname of Donskoi.g
The chronicles say that such a battle as that of Kulikovo had never before been known in Russia; even Europe had not seen the like of it for a long time. Such bloody conflicts had taken place in the western half of Europe at the beginning of the so-called Middle Ages, at the time of the great migration of nations, in those terrible collisions between European and Asiatic armies; such was the battle of Châlons-sur-Marne, when the Roman general saved western Europe from the Huns; such too was the battle of Tours, where the Frankish leader saved western Europe from the Arabs (Saracens). Western Europe was saved from the Asiatics, but her eastern half remained long open to their attacks. Here, about the middle of the ninth century, was formed an empire which should have served Europe as a bulwark against Asia; in the thirteenth century this bulwark was seemingly destroyed, but the foundations of the European empire were saved in the distant northwest; thanks to the preservation of these foundations, in a hundred and fifty years the empire succeeded in becoming unified, consolidated—and the victory of Kulikovo served as a proof of its strength. It was an omen of the triumph of Europe over Asia, and has exactly the same signification in the history of eastern Europe as the victories of Châlons and Tours have in that of western Europe. It also bears a like character with them—that of a terrible, bloody slaughter, a desperate struggle between Europe and Asia, which was to decide the great question in the history of humanity: which of these two parts of the world was to triumph over the other.
But the victory of Kulikovo was one of those victories which closely border upon grievous defeats. When, says the tradition, the grand prince ordered a count to be made of those who were left alive after the battle, the boyar Michael Aleksandrovitch reported to him that there remained in all forty thousand men, while more than four hundred thousand had been in action. And although the historian is not obliged to accept the latter statementliterally, yet the ratio here given between the living and the dead is of great importance to him. Four princes, thirteen boyars, and a monk of the monastery of Troitsa, were among the slain. It is for this reason that in the embellished narratives of the defeat of Mamai we see the event represented on one hand as a great triumph and on the other as a woeful and lamentable event. There was great joy in Russia, says the chronicler, but there was also great grief over those slain by Mamai at the Don; the land of Russia was bereft of all voyevods (captains) and men and all kinds of warriors, and therefore there was a great fear throughout all the land of Russia. It was this depopulation through loss of men that gave the Tatars a short-lived triumph over the victors of Kulikovo.e
[1382A.D.]
The immediate and inevitable consequence of the battle was a sensible reduction of the Russian army. The numbers that fell before the Tatars could not be easily or speedily supplied: nor were the means of a fresh levy accessible. Those districts from which the grand army was ordinarily recruited had already exhausted their population; all the remote principalities had contributed in nearly equal proportion, and the majority of the rest of the empire was composed of persons who were unaccustomed to the use of arms, having been exclusively occupied in tillage or commerce. These circumstances, which did not damp the joy of the victory, or diminish its real importance, presented to the implacable foe a new temptation for crossing the border. But it was not until two of the wandering hordes had formed a junction that the Tatars were able to undertake the enterprise. The preparations for it occupied them two years. In 1382, the hordes of the Don and the Volga united, and making a descent upon the frontier provinces with success, penetrated as far as Moscow. The city had been previously fortified by the boyars with strong ramparts and iron gates; and Dmitri, trusting with confidence to the invincibility of the fortifications, left the capital in the charge of one of his generals, while he imprudently went into the interior to recruit his army. His absence in the hour of danger spread consternation amongst the peaceable part of the inhabitants, particularly the clergy, who relied upon his energies on the most trying occasions. The metropolitan, accompanied by a great number of the citizens, left the city upon the approach of the Tatars. The small garrison that remained made an ineffectual show on the ramparts, and the Tatars, who might not otherwise have gained their object, prevailed upon the timidity of the Russians, who consented to capitulate upon a promise of pardon. The Tatars observed their pledge in this instance as they had done in every similar case—by availing themselves of the first opportunity to violate it. They no sooner entered Moscow than they gave it to the flames, and massacred every living person they met in the streets. Having glutted their revenge with a terrible scene of slaughter and conflagration, they returned home, satisfied with having reduced the grand princedom once more, after their own fashion, to subjection. They did not perceive that in this exercise of brutal rage they strengthened the moral power of Russia, by giving an increased motive to co-operation, and by rendering the abhorrence of their yoke still more bitter than before. All they desired was the physical and visible evidence of superiority; either not heeding, or not comprehending, the silent and unseen progress of that strength which combined opinion acquires under the pressure of blind tyranny.
Dmitri, thus reduced to submission, was compelled once more to performthe humiliating penance of begging his dignity at the hands of the khan. Empire had just been within his grasp; he had bound up the shattered parts of the great mass; he had effected a union of sentiment, and a bond of co-operation; but in the effort to establish this desirable end, he had exhausted the means by which alone it could be perpetuated. Had the Tatars suffered a short period more to have elapsed before they resumed the work of spoliation, it is not improbable but that a sufficient force could have been raised to repel them: but they appeared in considerable numbers, animated by the wildest passions, at a time when Dmitri was unable to make head against their approach. The result was unavoidable; and the grand prince, in suing to be reinstated on the throne from which he was virtually expelled, merely acquiesced in a necessity which he could not avert.
But the destruction of Moscow had no effect upon the great principle that was now in course of development all over the empire. The grand princedom was still the centre of all the Russian operations: the grand prince was still the acknowledged authority to which all the subordinate rulers deferred. While this paramount virtue of cohesion remained unimpaired, the incursions of the Tatars, however calamitous in their passing visitations, had no other influence upon the ultimate destiny of the country than that of stimulating the latent patriotism of the population, and of convincing the petty princes, if indeed any further evidence were wanted, of the disastrous impolicy of wasting their resources in private feuds.
The example of Dmitri Donskoi had clearly pointed out the course which it was the policy of the grand prince to follow; but, in order to place his own views beyond the reach of speculation, and to enforce them in as solemn a manner as he could upon his successors, that prince placed a last injunction upon his son, which he also addressed in his will to all future grand princes, to persevere in the lofty object of regeneration by maintaining and strengthening the domestic alliances of the sovereignty, and resisting the Tatars until they should be finally driven out of Russia. His reign of twenty-seven years, crowned with eventful circumstances, and subjected to many fluctuations, established two objects which were of the highest consequence to the ultimate completion of the great design. Amidst all the impediments that lay in his way, or that sprang up as he advanced, Dmitri continued his efforts to create an order of nobility—the boyars, who, scattered through every part of the empire, and surrounding his court on all occasions of political importance, held the keys of communication and control in their hands, by which the means of concentration were at all times facilitated. That was one object, involving in its fulfilment the gradual reduction of the power of the petty princes, and contributing mainly to the security of the second object, which was the chief agent of his designs against the Tatars. In proportion as he won over the boyars to his side, and gave them an interest in his prosperity, he increased the power of the grand princedom. These were the elements of his plan: the progressive concentration of the empire, and the elevation of the grand princedom to the supreme authority. The checks that he met in the prosecution of these purposes, of which the descent of the Tatar army upon Moscow was the principal, slightly retarded, but never obscured, his progress. The advances that he had made were evident. It did not require the attestation of his dying instructions to explain the aim of his life: it was visibly exemplified in the institutions he bequeathed tohis country; in the altered state of society; and in the general submission of the appanages to a throne which, at the period of his accession, was shaken to its centre by rebellion.d
[1389A.D.]
In 1389 Dmitri died at the early age of thirty-nine. His grandfather, his uncle, and his father had quietly prepared ample means for an open decisive struggle. Dmitri’s merit consisted in the fact that he understood how to take advantage of these means, understood how to develop the forces at his disposal and to impart to them the proper direction at the proper time. We do not intend to weigh the merits of Dmitri in comparison with those of his predecessors; we will only remark that the application of forces is usually more evident and more resounding than their preparation, and that the reign of Dmitri, crowded as it was from beginning to end with the events of a persistent and momentous struggle, easily eclipsed the reigns of his predecessors with their sparse incidents. Events like the battle of Kulikovo make a powerful impression upon the imagination of contemporaries and endure long in the remembrance of their descendants. It is therefore not surprising that the victor of Mamai should have been given beside Alexander Nevski so conspicuous a place amongst the princes of the new northeastern Russia. The best proof of the great importance attributed to Dmitri’s deeds by contemporaries is to be found in the existence of a separate narrative of the exploits of this prince, a separate embellished biography. Dmitri’s appearance is thus described: “He was strong and valiant, and great and broad in body, broad shouldered and very heavy, his beard and hair were black, and very wonderful was his gaze.” In his biography the severity of his life is extolled, his aversion to pleasure, his piety, gentleness, his chastity both before and after marriage; among other things it is said: “Although he was not learned in books, yet he had spiritual books in his heart.” The end of Dmitri is thus described: “He fell ill and was in great pain, then it abated, but he again fell into a great sickness and his groaning came to his heart, for it touched his inner parts and his soul already drew near to death.”
Live-fish Merchant
Live-fish Merchant
The important consequences of Dmitri’s activity are manifested in hiswill and testament, in which we meet with hitherto unheard-of dispositions. The Moscow prince blesses his eldest son Vasili and endows him with the grand principality of Vladimir, which he calls his paternal inheritance. Donskoi no longer fears any rivals to his son, either from Tver or Suzdal. Besides Vasili, Dmitri had five sons: Iuri, Andrew, Peter, John, and Constantine; but the two latter were under age, Constantine having been born only four days before his father’s death, and the grand prince confides his paternal domain of Moscow to his four elder sons. In this domain, that is in the town of Moscow and the districts appertaining to it, Donskoi had ruled over two parts or shares, the share of his father Ivan and of his uncle Simeon, while the third share was under the rule of Vladimir Andreevitch, to whom it now remained. Of his two shares the grand prince left one half to his eldest son Vasili; the other half was divided in three parts among the remaining sons, and the other towns of the principality of Moscow were divided among the four sons; Kolomna went to Vasili, the eldest, Zvenigorod to Iuri, Mozhaisk to Andrew, Dmitrov to Peter.
From the very commencement of his reign the young son of Donskoi showed that he would remain true to the traditions of his father and grandfather. A year after the khan’s ambassador had placed him on the grand prince’s throne at Vladimir, Vasili set out for the horde and there purchased aiarlik(letter-patent of the khans) for the principality of Nijni-Novgorod, which not long before, after many entreaties had been obtained from the horde by Boris Constantinovitch. When the letter heard of Vasili’s designs, Boris called together his boyars and said to them with tears in his eyes: “My lords and brothers, my boyars and friends! remember your oath on the cross, remember what you swore to me!” The senior among his boyars was Vasili Rumianietz, who replied to the prince: “Do not grieve, my lord prince! we are all faithful to thee and ready to lay down our heads and to shed our blood for thee.” Thus he spoke to his prince, but meanwhile he sent to Vasili Dmitrievitch, promising to give up Boris Constantinovitch to him. On his way back from the horde, when he had reached Kolomna, Vasili sent from there to Nijni the ambassador of Toktamish and his own boyars. At first Boris would not let them enter the town, but Rumianietz said to him: “My lord prince, the khan’s ambassador and the Muscovite boyars come here in order to confirm peace and establish everlasting love, but thou wishest to raise dissensions and war; let them come into the town; what can they do to thee? we are all with thee.” But as soon as the ambassador and boyars had entered the town, they ordered the bells to be rung, assembled the people, and announced to them that Nijni already belonged to the prince of Moscow. When Boris heard this he sent for his boyars and said to them: “My lords and brothers, my beloved drujina! remember your oath on the cross, do not give me up to my enemies.” But this same Rumianietz replied: “Lord prince! do not hope in us, we are no longer thine, we are not with thee, but against thee!” Boris was seized, and when somewhat later Vasili Dmitrievitch came to Nijni, he placed there his lieutenants; and Prince Boris, with his wife, children, and partisans, he ordered to be carried away in chains to various towns and kept in strict imprisonment.e
[1395-1412A.D.]
The princes of Suzdal, Boris’ nephews, were banished, and Vasili also acquired Suzdal. Later on the princes of Suzdal made peace with the grandprince and received back from him their patrimonial estates, but from generation to generation they remained dependants of Moscow and not independent rulers. In 1395 took place an event which raised the moral importance of Moscow: on account of an expected invasion of Timur (Tamerlane), which, however, never took place, Vasili Dmitrievitch ordered to be transported from Vladimir to Moscow that famous ikon which Andrew had formerly taken from Kiev to his beloved town of Vladimir; this ikon now served to consecrate the pre-eminence of Moscow over all other Russian towns.
Following in the steps of his predecessors, Vasili Dmitrievitch oppressed Novgorod, but did not however entirely attain to the goal of his designs. Twice he endeavoured to wrest her Dvinsk colonies from her, taking advantage of the fact that in the Dvinsk territories a party had been formed which preferred the rule of the Moscow grand prince to that of Grand Novgorod. The people of Novgorod were fortunate in defending their colonies, but they paid dearly for it: the grand prince laid waste the territory of Novgorod, and ordered some of the inhabitants who had killed a partisan of his at Torzhok to be strangled; but worse than all, Novgorod itself could not get on without the grand prince and was obliged to turn to him for help when another grand prince, namely the Lithuanian, attempted its conquest.
At that period the horde was so torn up with inward dissensions that Vasili had not for some years paid tribute to the khan and regarded himself as independent; but in 1408 an unexpected attack was made on Moscow by the Tatar prince Edigei, who like Mamai, without being khan himself, made those who bore the name of khan obey him. Vasili Dmitrievitch being off his guard and thinking that the horde had become weakened, did not take early measures against his wily adversary, who deceived him by his hypocrisy and pretended good-will. Like his father he escaped to Kostroma, but provided better than his father for the defence of Moscow by confiding it to his brave uncle, Prince Vladimir Andreevitch. The inhabitants themselves burned their faubourg, and Edigei could not take the Kremlin, but the horde laid waste many Russian towns and villages. Moscow now learned that although the horde had no longer the power to hold Russia in servitude, yet it might still make itself terrible by its sudden incursions, devastations, and capture of the inhabitants. Shortly thereafter, in 1412, Vasili went to the horde to do homage to the new khan Djelalledin, brought him tribute, and made presents to the Tatar grandees, so that the khan confirmed the grand principality to the prince of Moscow, although he had previously intended to bestow it upon the exiled prince of Nijni-Novgorod. The power of the khans over Russia was now only held by a thread; but for some time yet the Moscow princes could take advantage of it in order to strengthen their own authority over Russia and to shelter their inclinations under the shadow of its ancient might. Meanwhile they took measures of defence against the Tatar invasions, which might be all the more annoying because they were directed from various sides and from various fragments of the crumbling horde. In the west the Lithuanian power, which had sprung up under Gedimin, and grown great under Olgerd, had attained to its utmost limits under Vitovt.
Strictly speaking, the supreme authority over Lithuania and the part of Russia in subjection to it belonged to Iagello, king of Poland; but Lithuania was governed independently in the quality of viceroy by his cousin Vitovt, the son of that Keistut who had been strangled by Iagello. Vitovt, following the example of his predecessors, aimed at extending the frontiers of Lithuania at the expense of the Russian territories, and graduallysubjugated one after another of them. Vasili Dmitrievitch was married to the daughter of Vitovt, Sophia; throughout his reign, he had to keep up friendly relations with his kinsman, and yet be on his guard against the ambitious designs of his father-in-law. The Muscovite prince acted with great caution and prudence, giving way to his father-in-law as far as possible, but safeguarded himself and Russia from him. He did not hinder Vitovt from taking Smolensk, chiefly because the last prince of Smolensk, Iuri, was a villain in the full sense of the word, and the inhabitants themselves preferred to submit to Vitovt, rather than to their own prince. When however Vitovt showed too plainly his intentions of capturing Pskov and Novgorod, the grand prince of Moscow openly took up arms against his father-in-law and a war seemed imminent; but in 1407 the matter was settled between them, and a peace was concluded by which the river Ougra was made a boundary between the Muscovite and the Lithuanian possessions.
[1425-1435A.D.]
Vasili Dmitrievitch died in 1425. His successor, Vasili Vasilievitch, was a man of limited gifts and of weak mind and will, but capable of every villainy and treachery. The members of the princely house had been held in utter subjection under Vasili Dmitrievitch, but at his death they raised their heads, and Iuri, the uncle of Vasili Vasilievitch, endeavoured to obtain the grand principality from the horde. But the artful and wily boyar, Ivan Dmitrievitch Vsevolozhsky, succeeded in 1432 in setting aside Iuri and assuring the grand principality to Vasili Vasilievitch. When Iuri pleaded his right of seniority as uncle, and in support of his claim cited precedents by which uncles had been preferred, as seniors in years and birth, to their nephews, Vsevolozhsky represented to the khan that Vasili had already received the principality by will of the khan and that this will should be held above all laws and customs. This appeal to the absolute will of the khan pleased the latter and Vasili Vasilievitch remained grand prince. Some years later this same boyar, angered at Vasili because the latter had first promised to marry his daughter and then married Marie Iaroslavna, the granddaughter of Vladimir Andreevitch Serpukhovski, himself incited Iuri to wrest the principality from his nephew. Thus Russia again became the prey of civil wars, which were signalised by hideous crimes. Iuri, who had taken possession of Moscow, was again expelled and soon after died. The son of Iuri, Vasili Kossoi (the Squinting) concluded peace with Vasili, and then, having treacherously violated the treaty, attacked Vasili, but he was vanquished, captured, and blinded (1435). After a few years the following events took place at the Golden Horde: the khan Ulu Makhmet was deprived of his throne and sought the aid of the grand prince of Moscow. The grand prince not only refused him his aid, but also drove him out of the boundaries of the territory of Moscow. Ulu Makhmet and his partisans then established themselves on the banks of the Volga at Kazan, and there laid the foundations of a Tatar empire that during a whole century brought desolation on Russia. Ulu Makhmet, as ruler of Kazan, avenged himself on the Muscovite prince for the past, was victorious over him in battle, and took him prisoner. Vasili Vasilievitch only recovered his liberty by paying an enormous ransom. When he returned to his native land, he was against his will obliged to lay upon the people heavy taxes and to receive Tatars into his principality and give them estates. All this awakened dissatisfaction against him, of which the Galician prince Dmitri Shemiaka, the brother of Kossoi, hastened to takeadvantage, and joining himself to the princes of Tver and Mozhaisk, in 1446 he ordered Vasili to be treacherously seized at the monastery of Troitsa and blinded. Shemiaka took possession of the grand principality and kept the blind Vasili in confinement, but observing an agitation among the people, he yielded to the request of Jonas, bishop of Riazan, and gave Vasili his liberty, at the same time making him swear that he would not seek to regain the grand principality. Vasili did not keep his oath, and in 1447 the partisans of the blind prince again raised him to the throne.
[1447-1448A.D.]
It is remarkable that from this period the reign of Vasili Vasilievitch entirely changed in character. While he had his eyesight, Vasili was a most insignificant sovereign, but from the time that he lost his eyes, his reign becomes distinguished for its firmness, intelligence, and decision. It is evident that clever and active men must have ruled in the name of the blind prince. Such were the boyars: the princes Patrikeev, Riapolovski, Koshkin, Plesktcheev, Morozov, and the famous voyevods, Striga-Obolenski and Theodore Bassenok, but above all the metropolitan Jonas.
Russian Woman
Russian Woman
Jonas was a native of Kostroma. When he was made bishop of Riazan he did not in any wise become a partisan of the local views, his sympathies inclined to Moscow because, in conformity with the conditions of that epoch, Jonas saw in Moscow alone the centre of Russian unification. In 1431, at the death of the metropolitan Photius, Jonas was elected metropolitan, but the patriarch of Constantinople had already named the Greek Isidore to that office. This Isidore had participated in the capacity of Russian metropolitan, in the Florentine council which had proclaimed the union of the Greek church with the Roman, the pope of Rome to be the head of the Universal church. Isidore, together with the patriarch of Constantinople and the Byzantine emperor had submitted to the pope; for Isidore was at heart a Greek: all his aims were directed to the salvation of his perishing country, and like many other Greeks he hoped through the pope to arouse Europe against the Turks. It was these hopes that had caused the Greeks of that time to sacrifice the independence of their church. In the eyes of Isidore Russia too was to serve as an instrument for Greek patriotic designs; but the union was rejected at Moscow, Isidore was driven out, and for some years the office of metropolitan of Moscow remained unoccupied. Kiev had its own metropolitans since the days of Vitovt, but Moscow did not wish to have anything to do with them. The bishop of Riazan, Jonas, having been already named metropolitan by the Russian clergy, enjoyed at Moscow a pre-eminent importance and influence, and finally, in 1448, this archbishop was raised to the rank of metropolitan by an assembly of the Russian bishops,without regard to the patriarch. This event was a decisive breach with the past, and from that time the eastern-Russian church ceased to depend upon the patriarch of Constantinople and acquired full independence. The centre of her supreme power was Moscow, and this circumstance definitively established that moral importance of Moscow, which had been aimed for by the metropolitan Peter, which had been held up by Alexis, and which had received greater brilliancy from the transfer of the ikon of the Blessed Virgin from Vladimir. From that time the Russian territories not yet subject to Moscow and aiming to preserve their independence from her—Tver, Riazan, Novgorod—were bound to her more closely by spiritual bonds.
When he had for the third time ascended the throne of Moscow, the grand prince designated as co-regent with himself his eldest son Ivan, who was thenceforth called grand prince like his father, as is shown by the treaties of that period. It was from that time that the political activity of Ivan commenced and gradually widened; and there is no doubt that when he attained his majority it was he, and not his blind father that directed the accomplishment of the events which led to the strengthening of Moscow. Prince Dmitri Shemiaka, who had been obliged to promise on his oath to desist from any further attempts upon the grand principality, did not cease to show his enmity against Vasili the Dark. The clergy wrote to Shemiaka a letter of admonishment, but he would not listen to their remonstrances, and the armies of Moscow marched with the blessing of Jonas and accompanied by the young prince, against Shemiaka in Galicia. Shemiaka was defeated and fled to Novgorod, where the inhabitants gave him a refuge, and Galicia with its dependencies was again joined to Moscow. Shemiaka continued to plot against Vasili, took Ustiug, and established himself there; but the young prince Ivan Vasilievitch drove him out, and Shemiaka again fled to Novgorod. The metropolitan Jonas issued an edict declaring Shemiaka excommunicated from the church, forbidding orthodox persons to eat and drink with him, and reproaching the people of Novgorod for having received him. It was then decided at Moscow to put an end to Shemiaka by secretly murdering him; the secretary Borodati, through Shemiaka’s boyar Ivan Kotov, induced Shemiaka’s cook to prepare and serve to him a poisoned fowl (1453).
[1462A.D.]
Vasili the Dark died on the 5th of March, 1462, from an unsuccessful treatment of burns. He outlived his chief counsellor, the metropolitan Jonas, by a year, the latter having died on the 31st of March, 1461.h
The beginning of the fourteenth century was the commencement of a new epoch in the life of Russia; in its two halves two empires began to crystallize: that of Moscow in the east and that of Lithuania in the west, and the scattered elements began to gather around the new centres. Such a centre for eastern Russia was Moscow, until then an insignificant town, rarely mentioned in the chronicles, being the share of the younger and therefore less powerful princes. Under Daniel Aleksandrovitch[22]the town of Moscow constituted the whole principality. With the acquisition of Pereiaslavl (1302), Mozhaisk (1303), and Kolomna (1308) this region became somewhatmore extended, but when it fell to the share of Ivan Danilovitch after the death of his brother Iuri, it was still very insignificant; and yet through its resources the princes of Moscow managed to become the first in eastern Russia and little by little to gather round them the whole of eastern Russia. The rise of the principality of Moscow is one of the most remarkable phenomena in the history of Russia. It is therefore not surprising that particular attention should have been directed towards it by historians, and by the light of their united investigations the phenomenon becomes sufficiently clear.
In the thirteenth century, under the domination of the Tatars in eastern Russia, there was a continual struggle amongst the princes for the title of grand prince, to which they also strove to unite the possession of Vladimir. We also observe another distinctive feature of the time, which was that the princes did not remain to live in Vladimir, but only strove to unite it to their own possessions, and thus augment them, and, if possible, secure them for their families. The struggle was for the preponderance of one family over another through the extension of its territorial possessions. In the Kievan period, whoever became prince of Kiev, removed to Kiev, and named someone of his own family as ruler in his own principality, so that if Kiev were lost and it should pass into another family, he would not lose his own patrimony.
During the Tatar period we note a new phenomenon: the princes did not merely separate themselves from their patrimonial lands, but even from their capitals; for instance: Iaroslav lived in Tver, Basil in Kostroma, Andrew in Gorodeza, Dmitri in Pereiaslavl, and so on. The power of a grand prince at that time was only a hegemony, a preponderance over other princes; as a testimony of their independence the other princes, the elders of their families (such as Riazan, Tver, etc.) began also to call themselves grand princes, and the preponderance of the grand prince of Vladimir little by little lost its significance. To all this there must yet be added another special circumstance, that in order for anyone to unite Vladimir and its territory to his possessions and thus obtain the predominance, aiarlikor letter of the khan was required; no rights were necessary and a wide field was open for every guest. Thus there appeared a new basis for the right of succession: the favour of the khan. To obtain this favour was the aim of all the princes, to keep it—a peculiar art. Whoever possessed this art would be the head over all eastern Russia, and whoever could maintain this position was bound to subordinate all the rest to himself. In consequence of this, the first condition for success at that time was a dexterous tactfulness, and whoever possessed this quality must come out victor. This dexterousness was a peculiar distinction of the Muscovite princes, and in it lay the chief cause of their success. They had neither power nor higher rights, and all their hopes were founded on their own skill and the favour of the khan. They had no riches, and their patrimonial lands, poor and secluded, away from the great rivers which were then the chief means of communication, did not yield them large means.
But to ensure success with the khan, his wife, and the princes of the horde, money was necessary; so they became saving and scraping, and all their capacities were directed to the acquisition of gain. Their qualities were neither brilliant nor attractive, but in their position it was only by these sober qualities that anything could be obtained. Alexander Iaroslavitch (Nevski) pointed out to his successors that their policy should be to give way when necessary and to wait when uncertain. He who followed thiscounsel was successful; whosoever hurried, like Alexander Mikhailovitch (of Tver), was a loser in the game.
But while taking advantage of every means of influence at the horde, the Muscovite princes did not lose sight of those means by which they could also act within Russia itself. Ivan Danilovitch managed to induce the metropolitan St. Peter to come to Moscow, and his successors continued to reside in that town. The alliance with the spiritual power, the only power that embraced the whole of Russia, was of extraordinary advantage to the Muscovite princes.
The metropolitan could exert his influence everywhere. Thus Theognost closed the churches at Pskov when that city offered an asylum to Alexander Mikhailovitch, and St. Sergius did likewise at Nijni-Novgorod when it accepted a prince to whom Moscow was opposed. This alliance was a most natural one: if the princes needed the authority of the church, the clergy—at that time the representatives of the most advanced ideas concerning the civil order—sought to realise that order of which it stood in need even for its purely economic interests. There is not the slightest doubt that one of the chief causes of the devotion of the clergy to the views and policies of the Muscovite princes, lay in its conviction that it was bound to derive material advantages from the concentration of all power in the hands of one prince. In fact, while the system of appanages prevailed, it was, on the one hand, extremely difficult for the clergy to enjoy its possessions and privileges in security, because the maintenance of this security depended not on one, but on many; while on the other hand, the princes of appanages infringed on clerical privileges more frequently than the grand prince. The dispersion of the monastic estates over several principalities still further contributed to the desire of the clergy for the abolition of the appanage system, which increased the difficulties of managing those estates. Especially in the case of war among the princes of appanages, the clergy of one appanage might easily be deprived of its possessions in another appanage, because at such a time all means of injuring the enemy were considered permissible.
In the increase of power of the Muscovite princes a leading part also belongs to the Moscow boyars, whose activity was principally displayed during the youth or minority of the grand princes.[23]
Such were the principal causes of the strength of the Moscow princes; to them should be added (according to the historians N. V. Stankevitch and S. M. Soloviov) the central position of the principality of Moscow, both in thesense that Moscow is near the sources of the chief rivers, and that an attack from without must first fall on the surrounding principalities. But these causes are evidently secondary and would have no significance without the others: Moscow is not so far from the other principalities that these advantages would belong to her alone. It was much more important that a wise policy, by preserving Moscow from the attacks of the Tatars, attracted thither an increased population and thus enriched the principality. A final important cause was the weakening of the Tatar horde and its dismemberment at the end of this period, of which the princes of Moscow did not fail to take advantage for their own ends.b
Karamsin, in relating the history of the invasion of Russia by the Mongols, makes some reflections on the consequences of the domination of these barbarians for the Russian people. In spite of his devotion to autocratic power, he cannot prevent himself from keenly regretting the liberty which this power had superseded.
“There was a time,” he says, “when Russia, shaped and elevated by the unity of the sovereign power, yielded neither in force nor civilisation to the foremost of the European powers founded by the peoples of Germany on the ruins of the Western Empire. Having the same character, the same laws, the same usages, the same political institutions, which were communicated to Russia by the Varangian or Norman princes, she took her place in the new political system of Europe with some real claims to a great importance, and with the remarkable advantage of being under the influence of Greece, the only one of all the powers which had not been overthrown by the barbarians. This happy time for Russia, is that of Iaroslav the Great. Strengthened by both Christianity and public order, she possessed a religious teaching, schools, laws, an important trade, a numerous army, a fleet, unity of power, and civil liberty. What was Europe at the beginning of the eleventh century? The theatre of feudal tyranny, of the weakness of sovereigns, of audacity amongst the barons, of slavery in the peoples, of superstition and of ignorance. The genius of Alfred and Charlemagne shone through the darkness, but soon faded away; their memory only has survived, their beneficent institutions, their generous intentions, disappeared with them.
“The shadow of barbarism, by veiling the horizon of Russia, hid Europe from its sight at the very time at which enlightenment was beginning to spread there; when the people began to shake off slavery, and the towns to contract alliances for their mutual guarantee against oppression; when the invention of the compass extended navigation and commerce; the time which saw the foundation of universities, in which fine manners began to soften, etc. During this period Russia, oppressed and torn asunder by the Mongols, was collecting all her forces merely that she might not perish. There was then no question of civilisation for the Russians. The rigours of the climate did not permit the Mongols to establish themselves in Russia as they had done in China and India. The khans wished to reign over Russia only from afar. But the envoys of the horde, representing the person of the khan, did what they chose in Russia; the traders, even the Mongol vagabonds, treated Russians as vile slaves. What was the natural consequence? Moral degradation. Forgetting national pride Russians learnt base cunning—the ruses and bravado of the weak. They deceived the Tatars, and one another they deceived still more. While ransoming themselves at the price of gold fromthe oppressions of the barbarians, they became more greedy, and less sensitive to insults and to shame, exposed as they were to the violence of foreign tyrants. From the time of Vasili Iaroslavitch down to that of Ivan Kalita (that most unhappy period!) Russia resembled a black forest rather than a state; might appeared to be right; he who could pillage, pillaged, foreigners and natives alike; there was no safety, either on the roads or at home; robbery destroyed property everywhere. And when this terrible anarchy began to disappear, when the stupor and the terror had ceased, and law, which is the soul of society, could at least be re-established, it was then necessary to have recourse to a severity unknown to the ancient Russians. Light pecuniary fines had formerly sufficed for the repression of theft, but already in the fourteenth century, thieves were hanged. The Russian of Iaroslav’s day knew no other blows than those he might receive in a private quarrel; under the yoke of the Mongols corporal punishment was introduced. It may be that the present character of the nation still offers traces which were impressed upon it by the barbarity of the conqueror. It must be remarked also that, together with other noble qualities, valour and military courage grew visibly weaker. Formerly the princes had struck with the sword; during this period they redressed their grievances by means only of baseness and complaints brought before the khans. If, after two centuries of such slavery, Russians have not lost all moral sense, all love for virtue, and all patriotism, let us thank the influence of religion; it is religion which has maintained them in the position of men and citizens, which has not allowed hearts to grow hard, and conscience to be silenced. Humiliated as Russians they again raised themselves under the name of Christians, and they loved their country as being a country of true believers.
“The internal constitution of the state was changed; everything which was free, everything which was founded on ancient rights, civil or political, became extinct. After having humbly cringed to the horde, the princes returned to their homes as terrible masters, for they were commanding in the name of a supreme suzerain. That which could not be done either in the days of Iaroslav the Great or in those of Andrew and of Vsevolod III, was accomplished noiselessly and without difficulty in the time of the Mongols. At Vladimir and everywhere else, except Novgorod and Pskov, there was no longer heard the sound of the vetché bell, that manifestation of popular sovereignty; a manifestation which was often tumultuous, but dear to the descendants of Slavo-Russians. This right of the ancient towns was no longer known to the new towns, like Moscow and Tver, which became important during the Mongol dominion. Once only do the chronicles make mention of the vetché of Moscow and they speak of it as an extraordinary event—when the capital, threatened by the enemy, and abandoned by the sovereign, found itself thrown on its own resources. The towns had lost the right of electing their chiefs, who, by their importance and the splendour of their elective dignity, had given umbrage not only to the princely dignitaries but to the princes themselves.”f
The Tatar domination did not by any means Tatarise the country. The Tatars never settled in Russia proper, and never amalgamated with the people. So long as they retained their semi-pagan, semi-Buddhistic religion, a certain number of their notables became Christians and were absorbed by the Russian noblesse; but as soon as the horde adopted Islam, this movement was arrested.There was no blending of the two races such as has taken place—and is still taking place—between the Russian peasantry and the Finnish tribes of the north. The Russians remained Christians, and the Tatars remained Mahommedans; and this difference of religion raised an impassable barrier between the two nationalities.
It must, however, be admitted that the Tatar domination, though it had little influence on the life and habits of the people, had a very deep and lasting influence on the political development of the nation. At the time of the conquest Russia was composed of a large number of independent principalities, all governed by the descendants of Rurik. As these principalities were not geographical or ethnographical units, but mere artificial, arbitrarily defined districts, which were regularly subdivided or combined according to the hereditary rights of the princes, it is highly probable that they would in any case have been sooner or later united under one sceptre; but it is quite certain that the policy of the khans helped to accelerate this unification and to create the autocratic power which has since been wielded by the czars.c