‘Sit, Chelminsky, and drink with us,’ he now cried, as I entered the large and dirty barrack room in which the company were assembled. ‘You are welcome; brothers, this is the prince of Cossacks, Chelminsky, who shall teach us all to ride presently. Meanwhile, give him the biggest tankard, and stand, all, while he drinks. There is beer and mead, Chelminsky; choose your stuff and drink till you’re drunk—it is our rule.’
‘Then I must ride before I drink,’ I laughed, ‘or I shall only teach your fellows how to fall off.’
I was allowed to postpone my drinking upon this plea, for which I must thank the youth of the Tsar, for assuredly but a year or two later, and ever afterwards, he would have listened to no excuse from any whom it pleased him to bid drink with him. To drink with the Tsar meant certain intoxication—for the guest, at least, if not for the Tsar also; but, being liberally gifted by nature in this as in most other respects, Peter was sometimes able to withstand when all around had succumbed. Yet, so robust was he that, however late he may have lingered over his wine cups by night, he was invariably able and ready to begin a long day’s work so soon as morning arrived, and to go through with it as no other man in the realm could have done.
I rode for an hour before this motley crew, showing them many Cossack tricks, to the great delight of the Tsar himself and of his companions—such as picking up a sword from the ground while passing at full gallop; vaulting into the saddle as the horse flew round in a circle; standing, kneeling, lying when in full career, and so forth.
Both the Tsar himself and many of his half-drunken companions must needs emulate my performances, one of the fellows breaking an arm and another his head, and the Tsar himself twisting his ankle in a fashion that caused him to walk lamely for several days afterwards. Meanwhile Peter expressed to me his satisfaction after his own manner. He smote me violently upon the shoulder:
‘By the saints, Chelminsky, a troop of horsemen like yourself should make themselves felt in a battle; one day, maybe, we shall fight together. Why should I not add fifty Cossacks to this regiment of mine? I will speak with you again of the matter, when I am sober.’
But since the Tsar was far from sober at this time, and for the rest of the day, I had no opportunity to discuss the matter.
But I met young Boutourlin in Moscow a day or two later, and spoke with him. The young Tsar was delighted with me, he said: ‘And that may prove a wonderful thing for you, Chelminsky; for, believe me, this lion cub that yawns to-day and plays with bones shall hunt for himself to-morrow; and those who are his playmates now will presently become his princes and ministers.’
‘What! these grooms and moujiks?’ I laughed.
But Boutourlin wagged his head solemnly. ‘Both they and we,’ he said. ‘As, for instance, why should you not become Hetman of the Cossacks?’