When Michael ascended the throne the two most powerful factions of the nobility were those headed respectively by the Miloslavksis and the Soltikovs, between whom no love was lost. To obtain greater influence and power they intrigued for the marriage of the Tsar. Michael’s choice was one Marie Kholopov, to whom he was betrothed. Before marriage she was drugged at the instigation of the Soltikovs, and her illness represented as incurable. She, and all her relatives, were then banished to Siberia for “attempting to deceive the Tsar,” and remained in exile seven years, when the Patriarch discovered the intrigue. This resulted in the fall of the Soltikovs from power, and the return of the Khlopovs to Nijni-Novgorod. Michael next chose Marie Dolgoruki, but she died a few months after marriage, and twelve months later, Michael was urged to marry again. The earlier method of selecting a bride was resorted to upon this occasion, and the Tsar’s intention made known throughout the empire. According to S. W. Glinka what took place is as follows:—
“On the morrow the Tsar was to make known publicly whom he had chosen as his bride. That evening the carriages of the palace brought to his residence the marriageable daughters of all the noble and illustrious families who had gathered in Moscow for this election. These young ladies of high degree all wore the vestments provided by the Tsar, and were accompanied by their mothers, or a near relative. In turn they were presented to the Tsar’s mother, Martha Ivanovna, and the mothers and relatives then returned to their homes; the young ladies, attended by their maids remained, and donned the nightdresses they had brought with them. The chambers to which they were appointed contained two rows of beds. Towards midnight, the Tsar, accompanied by his mother, went in to examine the candidates. The scrutiny finished, he returned to his own apartments, and his mother anxiously inquired upon whom his choice had fallen. To her surprise, Michael indicated the maid of one of the ladies. Martha Ivanovna could not believe her ears. She earnestly begged her son to reflect, before offending the pride and dignity of the princes, nobles and boyards by such a choice. Then she asked a definite answer, for, before the sun rose, it would have to be declared officially, before the Patriarch and the clergy assembled in the cathedral of the Assumption for that purpose. Michael answered, ‘I have obeyed you and the will of God in accepting the crown. Never have I dared to act contrary to your wishes. You have always been my counsellor and my support: I will do as you wish but ... but ... never ... never ... will I choose another; nor love anyone else. It is my fate to be unhappy! I lost my wife a few months after my marriage—now, to-day, I am deprived of the bride of my choice. She is of humble birth; perhaps she is poor; may be, unhappy. But I also have suffered—I too have been persecuted!’ and the Tsar burst into tears. Martha Ivanovna could not resist this appeal. ‘My son, my son!’ she cried, ‘have I not suffered as well? My husband languishing in exile; the murderous swords of cruel enemies directed towards you! Heaven has protected you, has chosen you to rule this realm. May the will of God be done! I will not thwart your desire. Take for wife the one whom you have chosen.’
“Thereupon Martha Ivanovna at once sought out what she could respecting the young girl her son had noticed. She was informed that her name was Eudoxia, the daughter of Lucian Stephanovich Striechnef, a poor gentleman of Mojaisk, and herself a distant relative of the lady in whose service she was. Just as her mistress was haughty, proud and overbearing, so was the maid docile and modest. Michael himself had had to bear oppression. Ill-treatment he hated. He felt for Eudoxia, and chose her because she was ill-used.
“Then Eudoxia was led into the Tsar’s apartments, was richly clothed, and presented with jewels. Martha Ivanovna called her daughter, and the Tsar himself called God to witness that she was his bride. The Patriarch, Philaret, gave his blessing to his son, both as father and as head of the church. The clergy prayed that the pride of the wicked might be humbled and the virtuous protected. The citizens were pleased and shouted ‘Long live Michael and Eudoxia!’ and there was general rejoicing. Then the daughters of the princes, and nobles, and boyards, were presented to Eudoxia and made their homage. In her confusion and modesty she would not allow them to kiss her hand, but cordially embraced each maid. When it came to the turn of her own relation, the frightened girl threw herself at the feet of Eudoxia and begged for mercy and pardon. Eudoxia bent down and said, ‘You also forgive me! it in any way I have offended.’ Forthwith the lovers were formally betrothed, and, as all the world knows, Michael married Eudoxia, and they lived happy ever afterwards.”
Another story, quite as like a fairy tale as this is, concerns itself with Eudoxia’s father, whom the ambassadors of the Tsar found at the plough. Lucian was not surprised at his daughter’s good fortune; he saw in it only the hand of Providence. When he forsook his thatched cottage for a suite in the palace, he carried away with him his old clothes and other things, which he hung on the wall of his new apartment, and each morning uncovered them that he might not forget his origin, and be mindful of the workers and the poor. He lived for many years within the Kremlin, saw Eudoxia’s son, Alexis, upon the throne, and found himself an honoured member of his own grandson’s household, and surrounded by his daughter’s numerous royal grandchildren.
The next occasion that offered for the intrigues of those who sought court influence through a matrimonial alliance was in 1647 when Alexis, the son of Michael and Eudoxia, resolved to marry. Of the two hundred noble maids assembled for his selection he chose Euphemia Vsevolojski, who had enemies. These arranged their plans with her maids-of-honour. When she was attired in the royal robes, her attendants twisted her hair so tightly that she swooned in the Tsar’s presence, and the Court physician declared her to be epileptic. She and her family were thereupon banished to far away Tiumen in Siberia. The next year Alexis married Marie Ilyinichna Miloslavski, who bore him thirteen children, and died in childbed in 1669. In his next marriage Alexis observed the letter of the customary proceeding but disregarded its spirit. At that time his chief counsellor was Artemon Sergievich Matviev, a man who had commanded a foreign regiment in the wars and married Mary Hamilton, one of a Scotch family resident in Moscow. Matviev had no daughter, but living with the family was Natalia Naryshkin, the daughter of Cyril Naryshkin, whose brother Theodore had married a Hamilton, the niece of Matviev’s wife. Matviev made his house as attractive as he could to the Tsar, giving western entertainments, even to the performance of comedies and tragedies in his private theatre. Western manners prevailed among them; his wife dressed in what were called “German” clothes, and both she and her ward appeared at table although strangers might be present. When the Tsar visited Matviev, Natalia, a tall, shapely brunette, herself served him with vodka and zakuska. One day the Tsar informed Matviev that he would find a husband for this charming ward; and, when the nobles were ordered to assemble their daughters, Natalia also received a command to attend at the palace. It was all prearranged, but to allay suspicion a second assembly was convened, and a final one after an interval of three weeks. When it became known that Natalia had been chosen, there was loud outcry, and anonymous letters reached the Tsar. These accused Matviev of sorcery and other dark crimes, and alleged misdemeanour on the part of Natalia. There was the usual investigation; the customary torture; and postponement of the marriage for nine months. On January the 22nd 1671 the ceremony was performed with great pomp, and Matviev that day appointed a member of the State Council as recompense “for the sufferings he had undergone in connection with the affair.” Sixteen months later—May 30th 1672—Peter the Great was born.
Natalia Naryshkin was of Tartar descent, but her training was western, and as tsaritsa she was able to free some of the “twenty-seven locks” with which the “terem” was guarded. With the accession of