In these bloody days, just as during the Streltsy executions and all the blackest days of his life, Peter more zealously than ever gave himself up to buffoonery, as if trying to deafen himself with the sound of laughter.
A new Kniaz-Pope Peter Ivanovitch Bourtourline, “Metropolitan of St. Petersburg,” had been recently elected in place of the late Nikíta Zotoff. The election of the “Priest, Imitator of Bacchus,” had taken place at Petersburg, his consecration at Moscow, on the very eve of the Tsarevitch’s arrival. Now at Preobrazhensky the enrobing of the newly elected pope was to take place in mitre and cassock, burlesques of the patriarchal robes.
The Tsar found time during the legal inquiry to draw up the entire programme for this ribald ceremony.
The midnight orgie or “service” took place in a large wooden hall, hung with red cloth, illuminated with wax tapers, close to the court of judgment and the torture chamber. The long narrow tables were arranged in the shape of a horse-shoe. In the centre was a raised platform with steps on which were seated the chief cardinals, priests, and other members of the convocation. A throne, surmounted by a velvet canopy, was built of casks, and decorated from top to bottom with bottles and glasses.
When all were assembled the sacristan and the cardinal archdeacon—no other than the Tsar himself—solemnly brought in the new pope. Before him were borne two huge flasks of “very strong wine,” one gilt, the other silvered, and two dishes, one with cucumbers, the other with cabbage, finally, an obscene icon, the naked Bacchus. The Kniaz-Pope, bowing thrice to the prince-caesar and to the cardinals, offered to his Majesty the flasks and the dishes.
The Archimage questioned the pope.
“Why have you come, and what do you require from our Intemperance?”
“To be arrayed in the robes of our father Bacchus,” answered the pope.
“How do you keep the laws of Bacchus, and what are your merits in that respect?”
“O, Most Drunken Father! On rising, while yet dark, before the break of dawn, sometimes even about midnight, I drink two, three bumpers of wine, and during the day I employ myself in the same way, and fill my belly with various drinks, like a barrel. So it happens that the trembling of my hand and the darkness which fills my eyes prevents me from finding my mouth when I try to eat. This is what I do, and this is what I promise to teach to those entrusted to me. And all those who think differently and wage war against drink I will as strangers utterly deny and anathematize. Amen!”