Island of the Blue Foxes

by Stephen R. Bown

  Peter saw these customs as a hindrance to the nation’s chances of modernizing. He issued decrees that regulated what was deemed acceptable clothing at official ceremonies or functions and what all government officials should wear while performing their duties—waistcoats, breeches, gaiters, low boots, and stylish hats for men; women could don petticoats, skirts, and bonnets. He also banned the practice of wearing long curved knives at the waist. Anyone wearing old-style dress had to pay a special fee to enter the city, and in time Peter ordered guards at the city gates to cut off the robes of anyone, no matter their status, as a requirement for entering the city.

  While Peter was enacting his dress and personal-grooming reforms, he was also punishing the conspirators who had sought to place his elder half-sister Sophia on the throne during his absence—a rebellion by elements of the Streltsy, Russia’s elite military corps. This no doubt added an undercurrent of fear to his beard and clothing declarations. Although the rebellion was short and easily repressed by loyalists, Peter had already endured other uprisings by the Streltsy and by his half sister while he was still a child. This time his patience was short: Sophia was forced to become a nun and renounce her name and position in the aristocracy, he disbanded the Streltsy, and more than seventeen hundred of the surviving conspirators were tortured in specially converted cells in Moscow in an effort to uncover the leaders of the conspiracy. Peter occasionally took a personal role as inquisitor, growling “Confess, beast, confess!” while flesh was flayed, beaten, and burned. In the great purge around twelve hundred were killed by hanging or beheading, many hundreds of bodies left on public display, while many hundreds of others were maimed and exiled to Siberia or other remote rural areas, their widows and children driven from Moscow. It served amply as a warning to any would-be rebels—or anyone else who might think of challenging his decrees. Peter eventually disbanded the regiments of the Streltsy in favor of his newly formed Imperial Guards.

  In the violent context of the eighteenth century, Peter’s actions appear to have been done not to satisfy his sadistic urges but rather for reasons of state, to eliminate treason and provide political stability. He berated a church official who appeared before him to beg for leniency for the traitors: “It is the duty of my sovereign office, and a duty that I owe to God, to save my people from harm and to prosecute with public vengeance crimes that lead to the common ruin.” The purge solidified his power through fear and example, so now none would rise to challenge the European reforms that he planned for his country.

  IN A FAMOUS PAINTING created during his visit to England, Peter looks resplendent in polished armor and a heavy gilded ermine cape. His stance is bold: one arm grips a rod, while the other is defiantly placed on his hip. Warships with billowed sails can be seen in the background through a window over his shoulder. His eyes are wide and his lips full, his hair curled and artfully ruffled. His head seems disproportionately small for his body, which is encased in its finery and steel. Peter was an unusually tall and striking individual; at more than six foot seven, he towered over most of his contemporaries. But he was also narrow shouldered, and his hands and feet were notably small in relation to his long body. While vigorous and stubborn, he suffered a mild form of epilepsy and had obvious facial tics. Sophia, the widowed electress, or ruler, of Hanover, provided a detailed description of her meeting with Peter in the summer of 1697 and pronounced that he “is a prince at once very good and very bad; his character is exactly that of his country.”

  At the time of Peter’s Great Embassy to Europe in the spring of 1697, no Russian czar had ever traveled abroad—at least not without an invading army—particularly into such distant territory. But Peter had already embarked on schemes to break this isolation. He began by expanding his fleet so that Russia wouldn’t be essentially landlocked, with only a remote port at Arkhangelsk on the White Sea in the Far North. The Baltic was controlled by Sweden, while the Caspian and the Black Seas were under the sway of the Safavid and Ottoman Empires. Peter had attacked the Ottoman fortress of Azov, at the outlet of the Don River, and seized the fortress in 1696. To defend his new territory, he began building a stronger navy, sending dozens of young men to western Europe to learn seamanship and naval strategy. Peter had then announced that he would be organizing a journey of more than 250 high-ranking Russians to the capitals of western Europe. Even more shocking was the rumor that he planned to go himself, to see the world and form his own opinions, to help set Russia on the path to greatness and prosperity. Only three years after the death of his mother, when he had assumed full authority as czar, the young autocrat wanted to travel in disguise, as a mere member of an ambassador’s entourage.

  To understand how this greater world worked, how best to achieve his ambitious goals, Peter planned to avoid pompous ceremony and political displays of honor. Ambassadors to his court reported to their respective countries and speculated that Peter’s most likely reasons were for personal amusement, a little diversion and holiday, to see how regular people lived their lives, and to make himself a better ruler. Peter also knew he needed allies in his struggle against the Ottoman Turks. The Great Embassy made plans to visit the capitals of Warsaw, Vienna, and Venice as well as Amsterdam and London. He would not travel to France to see the famous Sun King, Louis XIV, as France was then allied with the Ottomans.

  While Peter undoubtedly had a healthy ego, being raised a prince, he was also humble and insightful enough to realize that he, and Russia, had a lot to learn if he was to take advantage of the new technology and knowledge of the age. Writing later in life, Peter observed that he

  turned his whole mind to the construction of a fleet.… [A] suitable place for shipbuilding was found on the River Voronezh.… [S]killful shipwrights were called from England and Holland, and in 1696 there began a new work in Russia—the construction of great warships, galleys and other vessels.… [A]nd that the monarch might not be shamefully behind his subjects in that trade, he himself undertook a journey to Holland; and in Amsterdam at the East India wharf, giving himself up, with other volunteers, to the learning of naval architecture, he got what was necessary for a good carpenter to know, and, by his own work and skill, constructed and launched a new ship.

  Peter Mikhailov, as he would be known, also craved freedom, to see and hear and observe for himself the state of the world and not be hidden behind a facade of luxury and ceremony. He didn’t care to spend his days just swanning with royalty; rather, he preferred to have the freedom to come and go anonymously. He wanted Russia to become part of the exciting world of western Europe—and the new lands that its mariners had been exploring and were continuing to explore with their fleets. The world was becoming globalized in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, and western Europe was the technological and inspirational epicenter of this endeavor. New technologies, such as clocks or chronometers, compasses, thermometers, telescopes, barometers, and instruments for accurate cartography, supported navigation and exploration. The enterprising mariners and financiers of the Dutch and English East India Companies as well as the Dutch West India Company were bringing coffee, tea, sugar, and spices such as cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg to European markets. Exotic plants and animals were in everyday use. Freed to a certain extent from religious dogma, scientists such as Descartes, Leibniz, Leeuwenhoek, and Newton were actively experimenting and exploring the natural environment and the properties and principles that governed the world. This new science was changing the European worldview, and Peter didn’t want to miss out personally or let Russia be left behind. He also had more prosaic designs. He purchased new ship cannons, rigging, anchors, sails, and the latest instruments of navigation so that they could be better understood and replicated in Russia to improve the economy.

  Most people in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries lived in rural environments, engaged in some activity directly related to farming with animals. Waterwheels and windmills provided the only energy beyond sheer muscle power. People seldom traveled, as the roads we
re poor and surplus food or time was scarce. Daily life began with the rising of the sun and ended after dark. Wood was the only source of light and heat. Russia, being on the geographical fringe of Europe, was not part of the transfer of new ideas and knowledge then sweeping the continent, and Peter wanted that to change—to bring about a new way of life for his people.

  The thought of a Russian Great Embassy did not bring joy to the courts of the countries that were to receive the group. The Russian ambassadors of the time knew little of the customs of other nations and consequently had difficulty communicating their ideas. They were usually seen as rude and uncouth, bumpkins who refused to follow the protocols of courtly behavior common in western Europe.

  The Russian court itself was seen as beyond the pale. According to the Austrian ambassador’s secretary Johann Georg Korb, meals at the Russian court were frequently unscheduled and abruptly preceded by the announcement that “the Tsar wants to eat!” Servants would promptly arrive with platters of food and place them on the huge table, seemingly at random, while people grabbed for them, perhaps hitting each other jokingly with long loaves of bread or squabbling over the great bowls of wine, mead, beer, and brandy. Heavy drinking was common along with heated arguments, lively dancing, and even wrestling. Trained bears sometimes roamed the dining hall, proffering cups of pepper brandy and knocking off hats and wigs to much merriment. These antics, while no doubt amusing to the Muscovites in Peter’s court, were not much appreciated by European dignitaries preoccupied with the order and timing of entering rooms and table seating, with which long-winded title each person was to be addressed, with which cup to drink from, and in which order to eat the varied dishes. Peter particularly disliked official or formal functions, considering them to be “barbarous and inhumane,” preventing monarchs “from enjoying the society of mankind.” He wanted to talk and dine, drink, and joke with people of all ranks, while being the first among equals naturally. Peter was proud of his calluses, of laboring with shipwrights, of marching with his soldiers, of working the ropes on a ship, of drinking beer with craftsmen. He was eager to meet with men who had risen to respect out of merit rather than birth or influence.

  PETER PERSONALLY CHOSE THE members of his Great Embassy, and the sprawling cavalcade included not only his three principal ambassadors, senior members of Peter’s nobility, but also twenty other aristocrats and thirty-five skilled artisans. They would all travel together in addition to priests, musicians, interpreters, cooks, horsemen, soldiers, and other servants. “Peter Mikhailov,” a nondescript brown-haired, blue-eyed jack-of-all-trades noteworthy only for his height, joined the ranks. It would be an open secret that he was traveling with the embassy, but it was not to be officially acknowledged, which created unusual dilemmas with protocol. Peter left Russia in the hands of three older trustworthy men, a regency council that included one of his uncles.

  The Great Embassy set off overland through the Swedish-controlled territory that bordered the eastern Baltic, which included Finland, Estonia, and Latvia. Here Peter paid particular attention to the fortifications of the city of Riga, a fortress that his father had failed to conquer forty years earlier and that would be a nicely situated place for a Russian port on the Baltic Sea. He considered his reception here to be rude and inhospitable—not fit for a czar. Of course, he was traveling incognito, but he still expected to see the recognition that he was there. Having his entourage ignored and left to fend for themselves and to pay high prices for their food and lodging was not acceptable. Three years later, Peter would use this apparent or perceived ill treatment in Riga as an excuse for starting the war that would consume most of his life and reign, the Great Northern War with Sweden. Riga would eventually be incorporated into the Russian Empire. Certainly, it was convenient that he was treated so poorly there, since there was no other way for him to expand Russia and gain access to the Baltic Sea than by seizing Swedish-held territory. The cavalcade then traveled overland to Mitau in Poland. Growing impatient, Peter boarded a private yacht and sailed ahead to the northern German city of Königsberg, where Frederick III, the elector of Brandenburg, met him to discuss an alliance against Sweden. Like Peter, Frederick also wanted to expand his territory, to become king of a newly formed kingdom of Prussia.

  After laying the foundation for future joint military action against Sweden, Peter continued overland to Berlin. By this time, his presence was an open secret, and word traveled throughout northern Europe. People thronged to see the czar of the mysterious eastern land with the outlandishly dressed people and the Oriental customs, known for their hard drinking and barbaric behavior. The Great Embassy became like a traveling circus, and Peter was annoyed at the intrusive scrutiny, as if he were a curiosity, which he was. But he was a charming curiosity, well liked by the gentry of Germany for his good humor, fun-loving displays, and lively conversation. He proved to be nowhere near as uncivilized a bear as had been reported. His many foreign tutors had prepared him well.

  In mid-August, Peter and a handful of compatriots, upon reaching the Rhine, boarded a small boat and sailed downstream, leaving the bulk of the Great Embassy to plod along by land. He sailed right through Amsterdam to the Dutch town of Zaandam, where in his quixotic manner he wanted to enlist as a carpenter and learn shipbuilding, as if he were a common laborer. He set himself up in a small wooden house close by the shipyards, purchased some carpentry tools, and signed on to build ships. His anonymity was soon questioned, as rumor spread of foreigners in strange costumes having arrived by ship; crowds were staring at his troupe in their ostentatious Russian dress. Peter also stood out because of his unusual height and distinctive facial tics, and within days he was politely declining offers to dine with the leading officials and merchants of the town. Soon his presence was causing a sensation throughout the republic; people came from Amsterdam to see if the rumors were true, that the czar of Muscovy was working on ships as a common laborer, and soon fences had to be erected around the work site to keep the crowds of gawkers at bay. The next day he grew impatient and forced his way through the throngs, boarded his small ship, and sailed to Amsterdam, where he went directly to the large inn reserved for the embassy.

  In Amsterdam, which was much larger and more accustomed to worldly happenings, he hoped to blend in. Water and thousands of ships surrounded him everywhere in this city of canals, and the hollering of sailors was always in the air. He found work at the walled shipyards of the Dutch East India Company (known as the VOC), where there was a fleet of ships of different shapes and sizes. Some were being constructed, while older ones had been dragged above the tide line and lay like the decaying rib cages of sea monsters, rotted planking being torn away and replaced over the skeleton. Ropes and wood and tar and cloth and iron were being molded into vessels of commerce and war, and it was here that Peter spent months gaining a familiarity with all things nautical. But he no longer strove for anonymity. Instead, he met with the burgomaster and leading city dignitaries. The VOC offered him a small house within the walls of the compound to keep prying eyes at bay. He and ten other Russians would begin work on a new one-hundred-foot frigate, to see and participate in its construction from the ground up, from inspecting the logs and materials to overseeing the design plans. The VOC renamed the ship in his honor, The Apostles Peter and Paul.

  What was most shocking to the young czar were the density and wealth of the Dutch Republic. With about two million people in a small country, its cities were huge by comparison to those in other lands. The Dutch Republic was at its pinnacle of prestige—from the wealth that flowed from the Dutch East India Company—and it was then the richest, most urbanized, and most sophisticated nation in Europe, renowned for its art and clothing, food, spices, and thinkers. Its teeming shipyards serviced a trade network that was then the largest in the world, with ships that sailed nearly everywhere European ships could navigate—everywhere except for the North Pacific. The mighty commercial enterprise transformed the nation and then Europe. The VOC alone employed more than
50,000 people—sailors, artisans, laborers, stevedores, clerks, carpenters, and soldiers. Other Dutch companies fed off the commercial activities of the VOC, and they collectively controlled vast quantities of the trade in northern Europe. The immense wealth this trade produced helped to stimulate the Dutch Golden Age, an era when the Netherlands was the wealthiest and most scientifically advanced of European nations, with flourishing arts and sciences, from painting, sculpture, architecture, and drama to philosophy, law, mathematics, and publishing. Peter had never before seen anything like it. In Amsterdam forests of ship masts congregated in the protected harbor, smaller ships lined endless wharves, and canals indented the city with heavily laden barges.

  All this activity was also spurring the development of new financial structures to control and enable it: credit, insurance, loans, the joint-stock company. People from around Europe came to learn methods of commerce and other skills related to the new global trade that extended from regions as far away as the Pacific Ocean. That ocean, Peter was aware, lay at the terminus of his vast sprawling empire, the little-explored and poorly charted eastern land known as Kamchatka, which at the time was thought possibly to connect to North America.