Peter and Alexis: The Romance of Peter the Great

by Dmitry Sergeyevich Merezhkovsky

The first Session of the High Court was opened on June 17, in the Audience Hall of the Senate House. The judges consisted of ministers, senators, generals, governors, captains of the army and navy, majors, lieutenants, sub-lieutenants, ensigns, war-commissioners, officials of the new government departments, and old Boyars, numbering in all, civilian and military, 127 men. Truly a very mixed assemblage! as those of the nobility who were present commented among themselves. Some could not even write, and thus were unable to sign the sentence.

After hearing Mass, which was solemnized in the Church of the Holy Trinity, to invoke Divine aid in their difficult undertaking, the judges assembled in the Senate House. The doors and windows of the hall were open, not only to allow the entrance of fresh air, for it was a hot and heavy day, but also to give to the trial some semblance of publicity. The neighbouring streets had, however, been closed by chevaux-de-frise and barricades; while a whole battalion of the guards, with guns shouldered, was drawn up on the Square to keep the “rabble” at a distance. The Tsarevitch was brought from the fortress under the custody of four officers with drawn swords.

There was a throne in the Audience Hall, the Tsar, however, did not mount it, but seated himself in an arm-chair at the end of the hall. Behind two rows of tables covered with red cloth were seated the judges. The Tsarevitch took up a position in front of his father, like a defendant facing the plaintiff.

When the Court was declared open Peter rose and said:—

“Gentlemen of the Senate and Judges, I pray you to judge this case in the fullest spirit of equity, as its nature demands, yielding no place to flattery or sordid motives. If you decide that a light punishment will suffice, but hesitate through fear of my displeasure from passing such a sentence, I give you my word that this will not be incurred. I pray you also not to give any weight to the consideration that it is the son of your Tsar whom you are called upon to judge. Misled by no mere appearance, be strictly impartial; let the rights of man and man prevail, and imperil in nowise your own souls and mine, for our consciences ought to be clear on the day of the last Judgment, and our country secure.”

The Vice-Chancellor Shafiroff read aloud a long list of the crimes charged against the Tsarevitch, some of which he had already publicly admitted, others being new, which it was alleged he had concealed at the first Inquiry.

“Do you plead ‘guilty’?” asked Prince Ménshikoff, who had been elected president of the Court.

All expected that the Tsarevitch would fall on his knees before his father, and with tears would pray that mercy might be shown him, as he had done at Moscow; but when they saw him rise and look round the assembly with a calm gaze they knew that events would take a different course.

“Whether I be guilty or no is not for you, but for God alone to judge,” he began, amid silence sudden and profound, and the breathless expectation of all. “How is it possible for you to pass righteous judgment without freedom of speech? Where is your freedom? You are the slaves of the Tsar; whatever he bids you say, you do say. This is called a trial, but it is only an exhibition of injustice and tyranny. You know the fable of the wolf who went to law with the lamb. Your tribunal is a tribunal of wolves. Were I innocent a hundred times over, you would condemn me all the same. If instead of you it was the whole Russian people who were proceeding to judge between me and my father—that would be a very different matter. I love the people. Peter is great, very great; but at the same time his rule is stern and heavy and it is hard to breathe under it. What lives have been lost, how much blood has been shed! The earth herself is groaning beneath it. Do you hear nothing, do you see nothing? But what is the use of speaking? You are not a Senate at all, you are lackeys of the Tsar, his lackeys all of you, from the highest to the lowest!”

A murmur of disapproval drowned the last words, yet nobody dared stop him. All looked towards the Tsar, waiting for him to speak. But the Tsar remained silent, not a muscle of the stony, rigid face quivered; only the large flashing eyes encountered the fixed gaze of his son.