Peter The Great, of Orange. Usurper on the Throne. Sergey Soloviev

sat at the helm of a sailboat. A walk on the water always improved his mood, especially since the day was clear and warm, after all, it was August. Nearby stood a basket with bottles of Moselle, smoked sausage and bread. Aleksashka was preparing food. Still, it seemed to work out, and the people, the Dutch, took him for a slightly quarrelsome Tzar Vseya Rusi. The language was not so difficult for him, after all, he had studied at school to be a navigator. True, signing letters was unusual for him. The one he replaced put the signature Petrus, but he, Piter.

      And his servant, or orderly, as the Russians said, was also full of surprises. Smart, well-read. And if he, a former pirate, had an excellent understanding of navigation and seamanship, then Aleksashka had an excellent understanding of horses, and sat in the saddle better than any French guard.

      He had read a lot himself, especially about Dmitry the Pretender. He swore to himself not to make his mistakes. But all these Russian clothes, and the custom of wearing a borola – it seemed to him a savage custom. But judging by his orderly – they were quite good people, and no worse than others.

      The wind changed again, and the former pirate turned the ship’s yard again, and it ran even faster.

      – Min hertz, the barge again! And more spectators than before!

      Yes, a rumor spread through the local towns that a big eccentric was visiting here, this Russian tsar, and was working at the shipyard. Hundreds of gapers gathered to watch such an incredible thing. And Madeleine, the owner of the tavern, began to sell beer for free, because the number of visitors increased fivefold. And in bed she became much more affectionate with him.Aleksashka, the red-haired devil, the darling of fortune, was pleasing her younger sister, Annabel. And they gave her money generously, so he bought himself a boat…

      But then shrill cries were heard from the barge, and the vessel tried to get closer, so much so that it almost hit his boat with its starboard side.

      – Aleksashka. Give me an empty bottle! – demanded Peter, flushed with anger.

      Thick green glass, just what was supposed to cheer up the helmsman. And he threw the bottle at this ignoramus, who did not know how to handle his barge well.

      Strangely enough, the ship’s crew shouted enthusiastically, apparently counting on something similar. And this incident only pleased the idle onlookers. Peter leaned on the wheel, the rigging creaked, the sail flapped, the boat turned and headed for the shore.

      CHAPTER 4 Stadtholder of the Netherlands William the Third, King of England

      It was Christmas time, in the corner of honor the spruce tree sparkled with tinsel and apples, which Herr Peter personally decorated. It was a little unusual for Menshikov, how joyfully and sincerely this Dutchman indulged in the holiday, even giving money for the fireworks in Saardam.

      The festive treat was rich – roast goose, wine with spices, and not just a pleasant dinner with Moselle wine and smoked eels. At the table sat Peter, Alexashka and mistresses Madeleine and Annabel.

      Madeleine sat on the lap of her tall gentleman, Peter raised a glass with golden wine. – To our lovely ladies!

      – Oh, how sweet, Piter! – Annabelle admired, – you and Madeleine look like you came out of a Rubens painting!

      Menshikov didn’t understand a damn thing, what kind of a parsuna was that? But, Herr Piter liked the innkeeper’s remark, he appreciated it, and kissed the woman’s hand. Tzar knew how to be polite, although he could be madly hot-tempered, and even more so than Pyotr Alekseevich…

      Then there was a knock at the door, and a dusty messenger burst into the house.

      – A letter to Pyotr Alekseevich! – the man reported, and gave the letter to the Tsar.

      Piter was obviously still reading with difficulty, but he figured out what was going on. He hid the message in his caftan pocket and bowed to the ladies.

      – We’re leaving in the evening, forgive me, state affairs!

      – Oh, Piter. you are so young… But already the ruler of a huge country! – and Madeleine pressed her hands to the bodice of her dress, expressing complete delight.

      Alexashka began to prepare the chests, pack things, soon a barge was supposed to come for them, on which they needed to get to Amsterdam. Anabel helped her dear friend. The girl very carefully sorted out the waistcoats and shirts, she did it simply beautifully.

      Everything was unusually restless. Wilhelm, Stadtholder of Holland and the King of Britain wished to see the Russian Tsar.

      Winter has begun here too. Well, what winter, there was no snow in these places, but the chill dampness penetrated to the bones. Menshikov wrapped himself in a cloak, longingly recalling his wolfskin coat and the charms of Annabelle.

      – Min Hertz, but it was possible to grab girls, – he noted with some hope.

      – There is a lot of this stuff in Amsterdam and London. We will find more there. I need to behave correctly with William of Orange, without losing my royal dignity. So as not to lose the honor of the state.

      – Yes, he knows everything about you… You have to be impudent, and not show it. Order a portrait from an artist. So that everyone understands that you are the real Sovereign.

      – I decided to open a School for Navigators in Moscow. To bring students here, how expensive it will be. Money will be needed for other things too. And about the portrait, it is smart. So we will do it.

      But at night Peter suddenly began to have a fever. The Dutchman was shaking under thick blankets, and then lay in his underwear, languishing from the heat. His forehead was covered in sweat. Aleksashka put a rag soaked in cold water on the patient’s forehead, prepared new underwear. He had already started rummaging in the medicine cabinet, looking for the necessary herbal mixtures. Peter raised himself and said with difficulty:

      – Juniper, Aleksashka… It’s the only one that helps with this affliction…

      Menshikov took out a decanter of vodka, sniffed it, checking if he got it, and thoughtfully poured it into a silver spoon.

      – No, you can’t do with a spoon here… Two full glasses!

      The giant drained the offered drink in a flash, without even wincing. There was no need for a snack either.

      “The jungles of Columbia,” he continued, “are a bad place, never go there…” he whispered and fell into a deep sleep.Menshikov looked attentively at the man who promised him power, while he himself was suffering from an incurable disease and was so weak and defenseless now. But. service is service, and he changed the new tsar’s clothes and covered him with a blanket.

      And indeed. the next morning the tsar was healthy and cheerful. He went out onto the deck of the ship, not afraid of the wind and cold. Menshikov tried to portray something similar, but hastily threw on a sheepskin coat.

      – Min hertz, it’s cold… You’ll catch a cold after all…

      – Never mind. For a sailor, the best medicine is sea air, – and he laughed evilly again, – never mind, I’ll show Wilhelm too… I don’t give a damn about him… – he spoke in Russian now.

      At the palace, Peter was received royally, there was a guard from the stadtholder’s guard, the Dutch ruler himself came out to meet the Tsar. – Oh, my beloved brother, – said Wilhelm, and looked intently at the Russian sovereign.

      The Stadtholder of the Netherlands and the King of England looked like a very solid and strong man. A thin, strong-willed face, as if in captivity of a large raven wig, decorated with a well-groomed moustache. Judging by the health of the representative of the Orange dynasty, it was not very good, but Peter also knew that Wilhelm was desperately brave and smart, which he proved by overthrowing King James Stuart from the English throne.

      Peter