But the rise to power was not so speedy as the fall from it, and both
give us some measure of the ignorance and barbarism of the times.
Otrepieff was a clever and accomplished man, but he either lacked, or
disdained to use in so credulous a world, the art of tact. He brought a
Polish wife whose suite laughed at the uncouth ways of the Russians. He
himself too openly railed at the backwardness of the country, surrounded
himself with foreigners, and acted with scandalous independence. He was
plainly, as his adventures would indicate, a sceptic, and he snapped his
fingers at the Pope and the Jesuits the moment they had secured the
throne for him; but he was no more respectful to the clergy and
religious forms of Russia. He disdained monks and ikons, asked no
blessing on his table, and refused to follow any of the
court-traditions. And within a month of his entrance into the Kreml the
adventurer lay dead upon the stones of its courtyard. People, amazed at
their own credulity, now exclaimed that he was a sorcerer, and the spell
had to be broken by blowing the ashes of his burned corpse from the
mouth of a cannon.
The succession to the throne had now been interrupted, and a ruler had
to be chosen. Vassili Chuiski, a military noble of distinguished family,
a bald myopic man of little energy, secured the suffrages of Moscow and
mounted the throne. But while the sluggishness of communication enabled
Moscow thus to choose a sovereign for the entire country, it left the
provinces in such a state of confusion and unsettlement that any rebel
could find support there. Another Dmitri arose, and was accepted. People
recollected that the real Dmitri had, like a true Russian, worn a beard,
while Otrepieff had had none. The new claimant had a beard. A regiment
of nobles in one province, an army of disaffected peasants and brigands
in another, raised the standard of the new adventurer and united their
forces within sight of Moscow. There the nobles quarrelled with and
deserted their baser comrades, and the new claimant ended on a gallows.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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