Peter The Great, of Orange. Usurper on the Throne. Sergey Soloviev
I will forbid everyone to wear beards. It’s savage, – Piter said sternly.
Menshikov did not believe such words. Well, who knows what people say… It’s one thing to say, and another to do.***
– Well, Christian, it seems everything has settled down? – said the elderly important gentleman, sitting in a high carved chair, quietly.
Van Ruyt was an important gentleman, not the least among the owners of the West India Company. Considerable capital became the basis of his family’s power. And he had to take care of the company’s prosperity and prospects. Trading operations in Russia promised huge profits, and they could not be lost. And the fact that he and his people provided a new tsar for Russia was not an adventure, but a necessity. What could little Holland do without Russian iron and potash, Persian goods? Fools thought that it was about furs or caviar… Yes, fish glue gave much more profit than these pleasant, but completely unnecessary things! What should a carpenter do without excellent glue? And the furniture and much, much more… But in front of him sat his two trusted men, who had done important but secret things for him more than once… His faithful Christian and Albert… Van Ruyt smiled at them favorably and repeated again:
– Christian, so what do we have in Saardam?
The man sat in the chair opposite, and in turn applied himself to a cup of coffee. This man of extremely broad views did not like gin or vodka at all, but this invigorating drink. Today he looked like an ordinary merchant from Amsterdam. A dark gray caftan, a modest collar, no lace, especially not Brabant lace. Christian knew how to become invisible.
– Peter is learning. Quite capable. We have chosen the right man, Mr. Van Ruyt. It seems that everything is done.
– Here is your money, gentlemen, – and a thick purse plopped down on the table, clanking dully.metal, – but now it is important not to spoil this business… Think about it… After all, the Tsar should be recognized here, in Holland. Someone has been to Russia, to Moscow.
– Very reasonable, Mr. Van Ruyt. We will find people, and we will be able to spread rumors that Tsar Peter is in Saardam, and is working at the shipyard. Those who recognize him are on our hook, and will not blab too much.
– It is possible to somehow liven it all up… So to speak, to show Peter Alexeevich more lenient, or something… A couple of funny incidents would be quite appropriate. Well, it is up to you…
– Oh, how kind you are… I swear, you will like it! – Albert laughed too.
– I am counting on you, gentlemen!
***
In the morning, as usual, Peter and Alexashka, with wheelbarrows full of carpentry tools, headed to the shipyard of Nicholas Weirms. The wooden wheels bounced on the uneven road, trampled by dozens of feet. To be honest, both new workers were quite counting on not being recognized here. They had just approached the slipway when three Dutchmen suddenly approached Peter. Menshikov noticed how his new charge tensed up and shrank. The giant’s hands clenched into fists, and his round eyes seemed frozen on his strong-willed face.
– Your Royal Majesty, – the stranger suddenly said, – I worked at the shipyard in Voronezh, Jan Roost, always ready to serve you! – and the man bowed.
The other two only listened, and then whispered for a long time with Roost. Then they too awkwardly bowed their heads and went off to their own little places, but turned around a couple of times, as if trying to remember the new wonder at the shipyard.
– Now we will have no peace, – whispered Peter, – let’s go, Aleksashka. The master is waiting for us.
An elderly smiling man in a dark robe and a knitted cap was waiting for them. They were put to work, to trim the beams. To be honest, Menshikov had never seen anything like this. Well, Voronezh is a different matter, where are those slipways compared to the order that reigned in Saardam.
The skeletons of the ships stood on wooden blocks. They seemed to be overgrown with planks of the hull and deck by themselves. Heavy giuzes were raised by means of a whole system of ingenious blocks. The sound of hammers in frequency resembled the chirping of grasshoppers in a field in summer. Nearby stood the hull of a ship, already launched, tied, like a spider’s web, with a whole heap of ropes. And there on the deck, joiners and carpenters were bustling about.
Aleksashka slowly continued to wield the planer, and finally, waited for the long-awaited praise of his mentor, Gus Schreiber:
– Well done, boy! Soon you will become a real master!
To tell the truth, the words were very pleasant for the tsar’s orderly, as if he had just received an award from the sovereign.
Meanwhile, Herr Peter, as Menshikov had already begun to call himself, dashingly flew aboard the brig under construction, clinging to the pulley cable. It happened so quickly, as if it were a bird sitting on a branch, and not a man, one-two and it was done.Alexashka only sighed enviously, he certainly couldn’t do that. All the masters received the Tsar well, patted him on the shoulder, and he plunged into his work with expertise. His red jacket flashed here and there. And then, something completely unexpected happened – Herr Peter deftly jumped onto the shrouds, and almost ran up to the yard of the foremast. This man was completely unaware of fear of heights, and his dexterity was absolutely incredible. The mast was about ten fathoms high, as the orderly estimated by eye, almost not believing himself. And then he adjusted the sail with extraordinary skill, and it finally straightened out completely.
– What is this! And how he will kill himself! – the frightened orderly shouted.
– Oh, this Russian guy is a real sailor! Such people do not die! – the master, also watching what was happening, grinned, remarked, – Skillful and does not know fear. Just like a real Dutchman! Alexashka just glanced, thinking at that moment how right the shipyard master was, and even though he didn’t know the most important thing, who this Herr Peter was.
The day of shipyard masters ended in a tavern, in a building with a frying pan on the sign. Such a thing looked amazing, especially for those who were hungry. People, after a hard day, wanted to eat well and drink even better. Confident and strong people entered through the wide open door, sat down at the tables, talked loudly and cheerfully. Herr Peter ordered for two.
– We’ll have fried selley, bread and a mug of beer, beauty. And for starters – a shot of juniper! – and at the same time he winked very charmingly at the waitress, from which she instantly blushed. – It’s just great here, Aleksashka, – added the giant,
It seemed to the orderly that he wanted to say: “With us”, but he restrained himself in time. But now it was clear that this Peter was one of the real captains, the foamers of the seas. The girl brought food and beer in deep clay bowls. Here Herr Peter whispered something to the girl’s pink ear, she laughed and looked at Menshikov, which made him blush.
– It’s okay, mon liber Aleksashka. Today, ladies will come to us. And a real sailor should not avoid the fair sex!
But then a stranger approached and looked too closely at Peter. This unknown person, judging by his caftan and headdress, was himself a man not alien to the sea. And Herr Peter, judging by his face, recognized the stranger, jumped up from his place, and hit him in the face, then once more. The tavern began to buzz and bang their mugs on the table, approving of all this. The first to shout was the shipyard master:
– Corneille! Rejoice, now you’ve been knighted!
All the shipwrights burst into laughter, and this Corneille, as if scalded, flew out the door.
– Who is this, mynheer?
– The devil knows, Aleksashka. Some ignoramus… – Peter tried to hide his irritation.
But it was clear that he was pleased. And he became even happier when he saw how the Dutch were receiving him. He smiled, and with