The service by which Gordon set his
mark on the history of Russia and of Europe was the subjugation of the
Strelitzers. These were a power more immediate and menacing than the
corporations, if not in reality so deeply founded; and it was necessary
that this power should be broken before the autocracy of the empire could
be fully developed. The Strelitzers were the guards or household troops of
Muscovy, and in their constitution and fate they have often been compared
with the janissaries of Turkey. They had bean created by Ivan the
Terrible, in the middle of the sixteenth century, for the purpose of
breaking the power of the independent Boyards. Their distinctive
peculiarity—that they were solely under the command of the Czar
himself—intended to make them potent agents of despotism, enabled them in
reality to set up on their own account. In their desire to take their
orders immediately from their master, they refused obedience to the
officers set over them; and on some occasions showed their zeal for their
master by taking the labour and responsibility of punishment out of his
hands, and knouting, shooting, or hanging those officers who had not, in
their opinion, acted faithfully in the discharge of their duty to the Czar.
It was a corollary, and a very
formidable one, to such principles of duty, that it lay with themselves to
decide who was the proper Czar from whom they were to take their
instructions. Such was the body with whom Peter had to deal in the early
and unstable period of his reign. Immediately before its commencement,
they had performed one of their most terrible outbreaks of loyalty, ending
in the slaughter of several officers; while others, probably to save their
lives, were knouted in the presence of the Strelitzers to appease their
just indignation, which, like that of the sepoys, arose out of a religious
difficulty: their consciences had been violated by their being ordered on
duty during Easter week. Gordon’s first affair with them appears to have
given its turn to the memorable struggle between Peter and his sister
Sophia for the actual government, while their imbecile brother Ivan still
lived and held nominal office as senior Czar.
The princess got the ear of the
Strelitzers, who promised to surprise and slay her brother. According to
Gordon’s account, they were as close to success as failure could well be.
He describes how his young master—he was then but seventeen—hearing at
dead of night that the bloody band were surrounding him, sprang out of
bed, and, without waiting to dress himself, leapt upon a horse and
galloped to the nearest wood. There, waiting a short time for clothing, he
pursued his flight, and reached the monastery of the Troitzca, or Holy
Trinity, about six o’clock in the morning. Here he was protected by the
sanctity of the place, and issued his orders to the officers of the
Strelitzers, and to the foreign officers in the Russian service. The
former had taken their course; the critical point lay with the foreigners.
Gordon took a short time to consider and inquire. He then said he had made
up his mind: whatever orders came from the Kremlin, he was to march to
Troitzca, and take his own orders there. This decided the others; and the
foreign officers, with their troops, made their welcome appearance at the
gates of the monastery. The contest was thus decided. Two days afterwards,
the youth who became Peter the Great entered Moscow in triumph; and then
of course came the usual conclusion of the drama in torturings and
executions.
The Strelitzers, as a body,
conformed outwardly to the new order, and remained composed and powerful
as ever. It was in the year 1697 that Peter left his home on his
celebrated ramble among the working districts of Europe; and if he had not
left Gordon with four thousand troops under his separate command to guard
the Kremlin, he would probably have found a change of occupancy on his
return, and a difficulty in getting access to his own house. The main army
of Russia was then stationed on the frontiers of Poland, for the purpose
of influencing the election of a king to succeed John Sobieski. A rumour
spread through the ranks of the Strelitzers that the Czar had died abroad;
and as they always felt it their duty to see the right person placed on
the throne, they resolved, without consulting the Commander-in-Chief, to
march to Moscow, for the purpose of installing the heir, Alexis Petrowich,
and appointing a regent during his minority. There were thus eight
thousand troops, in high discipline and compact order, approaching the
capital, and only four thousand to defend it. Gordon seems to have at once
resolved to save the town the horrors of a siege by meeting the enemy at a
distance. He had an element which compensated the inequality of numbers,
in the possession of twenty-seven field pieces—six to ten pounders. He
intrenched himself strongly on the road which the mutineers must pass,
never hesitating in the resolution to subdue them, or doubting his ability
to do so. He parleyed with and exhorted them over and over again to return
to their duty, and there is no doubt that he was sincere in recording the
sorrow he says he felt in the contemplation of their fatal obstinacy. When
he was driven to action, he took that most humane of all courses when an
irrational and helpless mass of men are to be brought to a sense of their
position—he made quick and sharp work of it. His own brief and practical
account of the conclusion is:-
"I brought up the infantry and
twenty-five cannon to a fit position, surrounded their camp on the other
side with cavalry, and then sent an officer to summon and exhort them once
more to submit. As they again declined, I sent yet another to demand a
categorical decision. But they rejected all proposals of compromise, and
boasted that they were as ready to defend themselves by force as we were
to attack. Seeing that all hope of their submission was vain, I made a
round of the cannon be fired. But, as we fired over their heads, this only
emboldened them more, so that they began to wave their colours, and throw
up their caps, and prepare for resistance. At the next discharge of the
cannon, however, seeing their comrades fall on all sides, they began to
waver. Out of despair, or to protect themselves from the cannon, they made
a sally by a lane, which, however, we had occupied by a strong body. To
make yet surer, I brought up several detachments to the spot, so as to
command the hollow way out of which they were Suing. Seeing ibis, they
returned to their camp, and some of them betook themselves to the barns
and outhouses of the adjoining village. At the third discharge of the
guns, many of them rushed out of the camp towards the infantry and
cavalry. After the fourth round of fire, very few of them remained in
their waggon rampart; and I moved down with two battalions to their camp,
and posted guards round it. During this affair, which lasted about an
hour, a few of our men were wounded. The rebels had twenty-two killed on
the spot, and about forty wounded, mostly mortally."
So far as open contest was
concerned, the affair was at an end. The conquest was obtained, one would
say, at a small sacrifice of life. But while, in ordinary warfare,
slaughter is at an end for a time when the battle is over, and the victors
are then occupied in saving the lives and alleviating the sufferings of
their enemies—in such an affair as this the slaughter and suffering were
only in a manner inaugurated by the battle; and the subsequent journal
which records, not the victorious general’s doings, but other people’s,
has such entries as— "To-day seventy men were hanged, by fives and threes,
on one gallows."
I must send the reader to the Diary
itself for the successive events of Gordon’s long professional career. He
died on the 29th November 1699; and we are briefly but effectively told by
the editor of the Diary that "the Czar, who had visited him five times in
his illness, and had been twice with him during the nights stood weeping
by his bed as he drew his last breath—and the eyes of him who had left
Scotland a poor unfriended wanderer were closed by the hand of an
Emperor."
At a much later period Samuel Greig,
another Scotsman, gave a helping hand to the waxing power of Russia. He
appears to have been the son of a merchant sea-captain or skipper in
Inverkeithing, where he was born in 1735. He was bred to the sea-service,
but seems to have been amphibious in his combative capacities, as his most
important service to Russia lay in military engineering. His entrance into
the Russian service was quite legitimate. He was a lieutenant in the
British navy at the peace of 1763, with fair chances of moderate
promotion, when the Russian Government applied to the British for the loan
of a few officers to help to improve their own navy. Greig, one of these,
soon made his capacity felt, and was intrusted with high cornmand. The old
Fifeshire skippers name of Charles was dragged out of its obscurity to
give the usual Russian patronymic of nobility, and the young officer
became Samuel Carlovich Greig. It is odd to find one of the few notices of
this remarkable man in the Memoirs of the late Rev. Christopher Anderson,
the historian of the English Bible. Mr Anderson’s mother was a relation of
the Greigs, and was able to certify of the old skipper’s wife, after her
son had gone on a career so widely different from his early surroundings,
that "his mother's supplications in his behalf had followed him in that
career so perilous to piety, and she lived to hear from his own lips, on a
visit he paid her late in life, that he had not forgot a father’s
instruction or a mother’s prayer."
He was made commodore of the Russian
fleet in the Mediterranean in the war with the Turks in 1769, and thus
became a great, perhaps the greatest, instrument in the annexation of the
Crimea, where so many of his countrymen were to leave their bones after
fighting to undo what he had done.
At the battle of Scio in 1770, Greig,
with four ships of the line and two frigates, bore in upon the Turkish
fleet in harbour, and burned them with fireships. It is recorded that this
operation was so new and terrible to the Russian sailors, that the British
officers required to hold pistols to the heads of the steersmen to keep
them to their duty. After the fleet was destroyed, the town was bombarded;
and so effectively did Greig perform his work, that ere nine o’clock at
night there was scarcely a vestige of the town or fortress, or of the
fleet that had existed at mid-day.
In the subsequent war with Sweden he
commanded at the battle of Hogeland in 1788. The affair is remarkable
among sea-battles, not only for the determined and obstinate fighting on
either side, but for being fought in a storm, and in a narrow sea full of
shoals, currents, and other perils. In one of the German collections of
favourite passages I have found the following account of this affair,
written by an author favourable to the Swedish side, and I insert it
because so little can be discovered about the services which a man like
Greig performed for a government which permitted the world to know only
what it thought politic to tell:—
"The great Russian fleet, seventeen
ships of the line and seven large frigates strong, sailed from Cronstadt
under the command of a most experienced seaman, Admiral Greig, a Briton.
They encountered the Swedish fleet of fifteen ships of the line and five
large frigates, under the High Admiral Prince Charles of Sudermanuland and
Admiral Count Wrangel (17th July), seven miles westward of the island of
Hogeland.
"Greig had been commanded by his
Empress first to destroy the Swedish fleet, and then without delay to
pursue his voyage to the Archipelago; and, if ever there was one, he was
the man to be honoured by such a commission. He was at home on the sea, he
had been present at the celebrated capture of the Havannah (1761), and he
had led the terrible combat at Tschesme.
"Between four and five o’clock in
the afternoon he bore down before a favourable wind on the Swedes. The
thunder of war began on both sides with terrible fury.
"The Swedes, who now again for the
first time since the remotest ages had taken rank as a naval power, showed
in the advance of their fleet an accuracy of line and an ease in
evolutions seldom excelled even in manoeuvres of a peaceful kind at sea.
Alter the lapse of an hour, the Russian leader, and two other Russian
ships, were so damaged that they were obliged to be withdrawn behind the
line. But again did the Russians concentrate their greatest strength
against the Swedish van; the Swedes grounded in their manoeuvres in the
stream at Eckholm, and all efforts to bring them into the wind were in
vain. In this perilous position the Swedish admiral’s ship, Gustav IlI.,
of 68 guns, which proudly displayed the national flag, and was commanded
by the High Admiral Charles of Sudermannland, with Admiral Count Wrangel
under him, was so furiously attacked by the Russian Admiral’s ship, of 108
guns, in which Greig himself was, and by two other Russian ships, each of
74 guns, that it was easy to see that the Russian Admiral’s chief object
was to make the Duke himself his prisoner. Peace might then, no doubt,
have been obtained on easier terms; but the Duke, preserving his coolness,
gave his people the example of the most astonishing bravery. From all
quarters the deadly mouths of the Russian cannon blazed on his ship while
he coolly smoked his pipe; a cannon-ball slew his servant close by him,
but he did not leave the deck, and strove, by his constant cry of ‘conquer
or die,’ to inspire his soldiers and sailors with his own courage. Some of
the sailors, who considered farther resistance useless, began to speak of
striking. ‘Rather let us be blown into the air,’ cried Charles, in his
sternest voice, ‘than surrender!’ Accordingly, he snatched his match from
an artilleryman, took his place by the powder-magazine, then asked Admiral
Wrangel whether he thought there was no farther chance of saving the ship?
A no
from Wrangel, and the ship would have been scattered in fragments to the
wind. ‘It will be tough work,’ said the Admiral, ‘but we will do our
utmost.’ The fire was now kept up with the most extreme vehemence, till
the other Swedish ships coming up made the combat more equal. The Russians
had a long list of killed, Greig himself was severely wounded, and his
ship was obliged to leave the line.
"Meantime, the darkness of night
came over the sea. At ten o’clock the firing ceased. The Russians had
taken a Swedish ship of the line, Prince Gustav, of 68 guns, in which the
Swedish Vice-Admiral Count Wachtmeister had led the Swedish van during the
combat, and which, after miracles of heroism, was drifting about with 300
killed and wounded on board, pierced everywhere with shots, and without a
flag. The Swedes, in return, had seized a Russian ship of the line, the
Wladislaus, of 74 guns, had run two others aground, and, on the whole, had
inflicted much more injury on the Russian fleet than it had sustained from
it.
"Both parties spent the night over
against each other and not far from the place of battle. The Swedes had
nearly shot away all their powder. Not an hour could they have kept up
fire if the enemy had renewed the combat next day, yet they dared not
attempt to reach the harbour of Sweaborg before daybreak, the wind not
being quite favourable; and it seemed likely that if they had given the
least suspicion of an intention to enter it, the enemy would have pursued
them. There was nothing for it but patient courage. To show this,
signal-guns were fired regularly the whole night, as if they only waited
for daylight to begin the combat more terribly than ever. The Russians,
indeed, gave signs of a renewed attack next morning. The Swedes formed in
line immediately, with what feelings may be imagined. But Greig, whose
retreat was favoured by the wind, now thought good, instead of a harbour
in the Archipelago, to seek that of Cronstadt; and the Swedish High
Admiral brought his fleet under the guns of Sweaborg.
"Such was the battle of Hogeland,
the first sea-fight in which the Swedes had been engaged for a very long
time, and in which they fought with the courage and discipline of veteran
seamen, far surpassing the expectations of their enemy and of all Europe.
Both parties claim the victory of this bloody day; in Petersburg as in
Stockholm the Te Deum was chanted. ‘Is it not generous,’ says a witty
write; ‘in Providence to have so arranged it as to suit both parties, and
so earned, there a Greek, here a Lutheran song of praise?"
The ‘Annual Register’ for the year
says: "Admiral Greig is said to have declared, in the account published by
authority in St Petersburg, ‘that he never saw a fight better sustained
than this was on both sides.’ This, however, accords but badly with the
number of delinquent officers (of whom seventeen were captains), loaded
with chains, whom he sent home in a frigate for ill behaviour in this
action."
As he died a few weeks afterwards,
on the 26th of October 1788, in his own ship, the Rotislow, it must be
presumed that the wound he received in this fight proved mortal. So ends
the career of the Inverkeithing skipper’s son, Admiral Samuel Carlovich
Greig, governor of Cronstadt, and chevalier of the orders of St Andrew, St
Alexander Newski, St George, St Vladimir, and St Anne. Every journal in
Europe repeated the account of the gorgeous funeral bestowed on him by the
Empress, though little is generally known of the man who enjoys the
reputation of having made the Russian navy. He made something else,
too. As governor of Cronstadt he was the author of the fortifications
there; and, as a French writer remarks, the Scotsman built those walls
which years afterwards checked the career of his fellow-countryman Sir
Charles Napier.
It is not, after all, an entirely
satisfactory task to celebrate services like these. A nation that can show
unrivalled courage and endurance in the defence of its own independence,
need not covet the lustre of success in foreign causes. Boasting of such
renown, in quarrels selected by and not forced upon the heroes, has
something akin to the bully in it. That so many Scotsmen should have thus
distinguished themselves abroad was the fruit of their country’s
sufferings rather than its success. The story of it all reminds one how
dreary a thing it is that a community should have to dismiss the choice of
its children from its own bosom, and how happy is the condition of that
compact and well-rounded state which, under a strong and free government,
productive of co-operation and contentment, has resources enough to keep
its most active and adventurous citizens at work on national objects, and
neither lends its children to the stranger, nor calls a foreign force into
its own soil. There is little ultimate satisfaction in stranger laurels.
Those who are the children of liberty themselves, such as the Scots and
Swiss, have seen their service; by the obdurate tendency of historical
destiny, almost ever assisting tyranny; and thus the sword of the freeman
has done the work of the despot. The prowess and skill of our military
leaders have given an undue preponderance to the strength of barbarism,
and enabled it to weigh too heavily against the beneficent control of
civilisation. The foreign despot is deceived with the notion that the
system artificially constructed for him by strangers represents a
permanent, well-founded, national power; he becomes insolent in the
confidence of its possession; and the fabric of power, raised up by one
generation of freeborn auxiliaries, costs the blood of another generation
to keep it from destroying freedom and civilisation throughout the world.
Even while this is passing through the press, the question vibrates at the
conference-table, whether we are to have a struggle with another great
power which several Scotsmen helped to consolidate. |