Chronology of the death of Alexander I
The early gloomy morning of December 1, 1825 (according to the new style) at Cape Taganiy Rog turned out to be cold and cloudy. A piercing wind blew from the bay. His icy breath was either weakening or gaining strength, unceremoniously invading the narrow streets of a small town huddled on this earth. Rampant streams of air rushed into quiet courtyards, howled in chimneys, knocked on the windows of houses, swayed the crowns of trees, drove scraps of newspapers along the pavement, some chips, branches that had been lying by the side of the road since last evening.
The inhabitants of the town were in no hurry to leave their warm beds. They wrapped themselves in blankets, grudgingly cursed the weather, listening to the howl of the wind outside. Only loudly slamming shutters or the natural needs of the body, urging outside, could make them leave heated places.
Only in one long one-story house on Grecheskaya Street all the tenants were on their feet for a long time. People of noble birth predominated among the awake. The uniforms of expensive cloth, confident looks and refined manners talked about it.
The footmen darted silently among the socialites. They obligingly stopped in front of one of the gentlemen, listened to instructions, and instantly disappeared. This created a light bustle and an atmosphere of nervous, tense expectation.
At the end of the corridor appeared a lady, perhaps the only one in this house, not counting the servants. When she appeared, the men pulled themselves up, depicted respect and an expression of compassion on their faces. The woman approached, greeted the people with a hearty greeted, gazing intently into the face of one of them. Her gaze was full of expectation and hope. He lowered his eyes, and the face of the noble lady darkened.
It struck ten. The doors of one of the rooms swung open, and a man with a pale, scowling face appeared. Many eyes were fixed on him. The same one wearily waved his hand and invited the woman into the room. Two more men followed her, and the doors closed.
The agonizing minutes of waiting dragged on. Half an hour passed, forty minutes. At a quarter to eleven the doors to the room opened again. A tall, stately man appeared on the threshold. He looked around at the people who were standing still in anticipation and said in a trembling voice: "Gentlemen, the Emperor of the Russian Empire, Alexander the First, has just died."
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This is the scenario of the last hour of the life of the Great Russian Emperor Alexander the First (1777-1825). He died on November 19 (December 1) 1825 in the city of Taganrog during an inspection trip across the Crimea. Historical sources call the cause of death different: they indicate typhoid fever, cholera, most likely it was a severe cold, which gave a complication to the brain.
It was late autumn, the emperor was walking on horseback. A strong wind could well blow through the sovereign. He could not stand any drugs and never took them. Already feeling chills and weakness, he continued the trip until the illness put him to bed.
In the last minutes of the life of Alexander the First, there were: his wife Elizabeth Alekseevna, Prince Pyotr Mikhailovich Volkonsky, who accompanied the emperor on all trips, the attending physician Yakov Vasilievich Willie, the physician of the Empress Konrad Konradovich Shtofregen, as well as Baron Ivan Ivanovich Dibich, the closest friend of the dying man and the chief headquarters.
Immediately after death, the body of the deceased was opened, the entrails were taken out and embalmed. A week later, the coffin with the body was sent to St. Petersburg. The transportation took two months. Upon arrival in the capital, the emperor's corpse was presented to members of the royal family.
The mother of Alexander the First, Maria Fedorovna, noted that the son's face looks very thin and haggard. Other relatives shared the opinion of the heartbroken woman. The ashes of the deceased autocrat were exhibited in the Kazan Cathedral for farewell, and then buried in the imperial tomb of the Romanov family in the Peter and Paul Cathedral.
The chronology of events is quite common. However, for almost two hundred years, Alkesander the First and the mystery of his death have haunted historians. What is the basis of such an incomprehensible concern of learned minds? For this, good reasons are needed that cast a shadow of doubt on an event so mournful for the Russian Empire. There are indeed grounds. They are based on various kinds of facts and assumptions, as well as the memoirs of contemporaries of those distant years, which will be described below.
Rumors that something was unclean with the death of the sovereign arose literally the day after his death. The first sign was the story of a soldier who was on guard duty at night near the house where the emperor lived with his retinue. The servant told his brothers-in-arms about a strange episode that occurred just after midnight, a day before the death of the autocrat.
The back door opened, and a man wrapped in a long cloak stepped into the street. The soldier did not dare to call out to him, as he had an order to check only those who want to get inside the apartment, and let those who leave without hindrance. The unknown turned his back to the sentry and quickly walked away. He rounded the corner of the house and sat down in a cart standing nearby. She immediately got under way and instantly melted into the darkness.
Everything would be fine (you never know who visits the tsar and his entourage), but the soldier recognized the emperor from behind. Tall stature, characteristic gait, head tilt - the serviceman had seen this image many times before and could not be mistaken. He was surprised only by the fact that everyone was talking about the illness of Alexander the First: supposedly he was in bed and was very bad. Even the Cathedral Archpriest came two days ago - and here you are.
This story was continued in the story of one of the orderlies Baron Diebitsch. Shortly before the death of the king, the adjutant general gave money to his henchman and ordered him to get a worn long cloak and something else from old clothes. He did everything exactly, having bought what he needed from one of the local residents.
The baron did not take the things for himself, but ordered them to be taken to the sovereign's chambers and given to the Empress Elizabeth Alekseevna herself. The orderly came to the empress, though he himself did not see her, but dealt with the maid, whom he personally put in the hands of the wrapped package.
Another bizarre incident added fuel to the fire. The protection of the sovereign and his retinue was carried by the third company of the Semyonovsky regiment. A few days before the sudden death of Alexander the First, non-commissioned officer Strumensky was fined in this military unit. Characteristically, he was very similar to the emperor, only shorter in height.
According to the rules existing at that time, the person guilty of a disciplinary offense was driven through the ranks. This meant the following: in two ranks, face to face, the soldiers lined up, each of them holding a rod (a long rod made of a wicker) in his hand. The delinquent was allowed through a living corridor, and he minced between his brothers, taking his head into his shoulders and holding his hands at the seams. The soldiers were obliged to whip the unfortunate witch in all possible places.
Someone beat from the heart, someone not really. Everything depended on sympathy or antipathy towards the punished. Apparently, Strumensky was not loved in the company, since he did not reach the end of the formation, but fell to the ground and died from his injuries.
The deceased was an Orthodox Christian, so he was taken to the church for a funeral service, but the soldiers could not take the body out of the temple of God in order to bury him in the city cemetery. They were ordered to go to the company, without explaining the reason for such an order. What happened to the deceased, who buried him, where is unknown.
Further events look even more mysterious. They relate directly to Empress Elizabeth Alekseevna. The widow did not go to accompany the coffin with her husband's body to the capital, but remained in Taganrog. This is explained by her poor health: the woman suffered from heart failure, while the death of Alexander the First aggravated the disease.
Empress Elizaveta Alekseevna.
She felt better only after four months. By this time, the weather had improved: the rains stopped, it got warmer, the roads dried up. The Dowager Empress left Taganrog on April 22 (May 4) 1826. On the way, she again became ill, and already completely ill, she arrived on May 3 (May 15) in the evening in the city of Belev, located 80 miles from Kaluga.
She stopped here at the house of the merchant Dorofeev. The close ones tried to organize her life as best as possible, but Elizaveta Alekseevna felt worse and worse. Closer to the morning of May 4 (May 16), 1826, the widow of Alexander the First died.
The mother of the late emperor, Maria Feodorovna, worried about her daughter-in-law's health, rode to meet her from St. Petersburg. Death was ahead of the high society lady by only a few hours. Upon arrival, Maria Feodorovna ordered to embalm the body of the deceased and deliver it to the capital as quickly as possible. Everything was done exactly, and Elizaveta Alekseevna was buried next to her husband in the Peter and Paul Cathedral.
These are the dispassionate facts of history that give a general picture of events and do not pay attention to particulars, because they are secondary and cannot be of any interest for the official narration. In this case, the narrative is not official, so it is necessary to mention a number of seemingly meaningless meetings that took place during the life of the Dowager Empress in Taganrog.
It is noted that during her stay in this city, from December to March, Elizaveta Alekseevna communicated with pious and wandering people many times. Among them was a tall and handsome man. A man of a seemingly righteous life and great holiness, as they showed him special attention and even allowed him into the private chambers of the bereaved woman.
No one could see his face, since he entered the Empress's place always modestly with his head down, and she was covered with a hood on top. After these meetings, they saw a woman very upset, and sometimes with red eyes, or vice versa, with a peaceful face and bright eyes. At the end of March, this wanderer disappeared and no longer annoyed Elizaveta Alekseevna with his attention.
For the sake of historical objectivity, it should be added that the sudden death of Mother Empress subsequently gave rise to a rumor: allegedly she did not die at all, but became a hermit of the Syrkov Monastery under the name of Vera the Silent. Whether this is true or not - let the historians figure it out. As for her husband, it is too early to put an end here. The story of Alesandre the First and the mystery of his death is just beginning.
Divine wanderer Fyodor Kozmich or Alexander I
Eleven years have passed since the events described. A lot of things happened in the Russian Empire during this time, only the roads remained unchanged, the poor condition of which, just in those years, was written by N. V. Gogol. They annoyed everyone, especially the carts that creaked and groaned on continuous potholes. The latter, in fact, consisted of the routes connecting cities and villages, and therefore the work of a blacksmith was a very monetary and profitable business.
It was on such a cart that an elderly man drove into the Klenovskaya volost of the Krasnoufimsky district of the Perm province on September 4, 1836. His little horse was so-so: it did not match the owner. The same appearance was very representative: proud posture, good stature, broad shoulders, blue eyes, gray blond hair touched by gray. He should show off on a hot horse, catch the admiring glances of the ladies, but no, he sits in a crumbling cart and drives a stunted horse.
The wanderer managed to get there, only to the nearest smithy. Here, as ordered, the wheel of the cart fell off, and the horse limped on its left leg. What would a rider do if this happened in an open field - it's hard to say. Here the situation was quite favorable. The blacksmith quickly responded to this incident: he helped unharness the horse and support the cart.
Being a sociable person, he began to ask the wanderer: who he was, where he came from, and what his name was. The same one behaved constrained and secretive. He answered questions evasively, vaguely, and sometimes just kept silent.
All this alarmed the blacksmith, but he did not show it, but suggested that the stranger spend the night in the village. He agreed and was taken by the son of a blacksmith to a house, the tenants of which, in turn, were to receive wandering people for the night.
The workman himself went to the headman and told him about the strange traveler. He passed the information on to the authorities, and the next morning the elderly man was detained as he had no documents with him. During interrogation, he called himself Fyodor Kozmich Kozmin, sixty years old, but refused to say what origin and where he came from. He admitted only that he was illiterate: in those years this was not at all uncommon.
The trial took place. For vagrancy, the wanderer was sentenced to twenty blows with a whip and exiled to Siberia, with a sentence of five years. They sent him on a stage to the Mariinsky district of the Bogotolsk volost of the Tomsk province.
The path was difficult and long, we walked in shackles. Many prisoners were exhausted by such conditions, they took away all their strength. People were sick, some died. Fyodor Kozmich behaved well. He helped those who were exhausted to walk, supported the desperate with a kind word and prayer.
The prisoners, who at first looked at him with suspicion due to secrecy and not wanting to tell something about themselves, gradually thawed their souls and began to be treated with respect. The convoy, seeing a deeply devout person in front of him, sincerely striving to alleviate the fate of people, after a while removed the shackles from Fedor Kozmich, which was never practiced during such movements.
In March 1837, exiles arrived in the city of Tomsk. Here, each prisoner was assigned a place where his term to serve. The elder (so everyone respected Fyodor Kuzmich was already called) was sent to the village of Zertsaly. From there they were already assigned to the Krasnorechensky distillery.
It was located twenty-two miles from the village and was one of the oldest and largest state-owned enterprises in Siberia. Ten thousand buckets of vodka were produced here per year. She dispersed to all the nearest provinces and even went beyond the Urals. It was in such a place that the elder had to work as a handyman for the entire period determined by the court.
Taking into account his advanced age, he was entrusted with easy things that did not require great physical effort. Soon he was completely released from work, but he did not sit idle: he conducted spiritual conversations with people, looked after the sick, and told small children geography and history. His authority quickly grew, as people found comfort in communicating with him and gained faith in the future.
In 1842, the term of Fyodor Kozmich's exile ended. Apparently, he had nowhere to leave, since he immediately agreed to the invitation of the Cossack Beloyarskaya stanitsa (8 miles from the village of Zertsaly) Semyon Sidorov to live with him. The Cossack treated the elder with great respect and built him a cell-hut.
Here the elder lived for several months in almost complete seclusion. Most likely, this is exactly what he was striving for, since he did not seek communication with people, but he spent time in prayers and walks in the forest.
Everything changed when his good acquaintance Cossack Berezin came to visit Sidorov. He served for a long time in St. Petersburg and often saw Emperor Alexander I.
After meeting Fyodor Kozmich, Berezin could not hide his extreme surprise and excitement. At first he was stubbornly silent, not daring to say anything, but then he shared his doubts with a friend. According to him, the elder was, like two drops of water, similar to the late emperor.
The Cossacks refrained from making any conclusions, but tormented by curiosity and the most fantastic assumptions, they decided to carefully question the elder about his past. The same man did not answer their roundabout questions, and soon collected his modest belongings and left for the village of Zertsaly.
Here he took refuge in the house of the settler Ivan Ivanov. He was a poor man, family, had a small house. In cramped quarters and not offended, Fyodor Kozmich survived his harsh Siberian winter. In the spring, the settler suggested that the peasants cut down the old man's cell.
One of the wealthy inhabitants of the village, out of respect for the pious man, gave an old sheep shed under the cell. The peasants repaired the building and it turned out to be a very comfortable dwelling. The elder settled in it and lived for six years.
These years for him were very rich and interesting. Fyodor Kozmich spent only the winter months in his cell, while in the summer he visited neighboring villages, and once even went into the taiga and worked as workers in Popov's gold mines. The inhabitants of nearby places who communicated with him, all as one, noted the elder's great physical strength and excellent health.
Fyodor Kozmich did not forget the peasant children. On long winter evenings, he taught them to read and write, taught them how to count, told the history of the Russian state, introduced them to overseas countries and customs of the peoples living in those lands. In these matters, the elder showed deep knowledge, which showed himself to be a literate and educated person.
In 1849 Fyodor Kozmich succumbed to the persuasion of the peasant Ivan Latyshev. He had long suggested that the righteous man move to live with him in the apiary. Here, two versts from the village of Krasnorechenskoye, right on the bank of the Chulym River, Latyshev built a wonderful cell.
The elder lived in this cozy place until mid-1951. Apparently tired of previous travels, he lived alone and apart. I tried to accept only strangers. Through them he received correspondence that came to him from Europe. What those letters were about who wrote to him is unknown.
Sometimes respectable people came to the apiary. Judging by their clothes, there were priests, moreover, not a minor dignity, and officials of high ranks. The elder retired with them in a cell, talked about something for a long time. It was said that such conversations were often conducted in French.
Fyodor Kozmich wrote letters himself, he also transmitted them through wanderers. I ignored the mail categorically, although it would be more reliable with it. Such a strange distrust of the postal department suggests that the righteous person did not want to reveal the names of the addressees to random people.
Shrouded in the darkness of the unknown, the old man's past, his mysterious behavior gave rise to many rumors among people. Popular rumor suggested that Fyodor Kozmich in former times was a high spiritual person. He left his post and settled in a secluded place, far from power and temptation.
Soon, however, another rumor spread among the local residents: the elder was none other than the former emperor Alexander I. The priest John of Alexandrovsky became the culprit of this version. Until recently, he lived in St. Petersburg, saw the late sovereign in those years when he was in power.
Being an unscrupulous person, Aleksandrovsky committed a godless act and was exiled. He ended up in the village of Krasnorechenskoye. Like all the curious, he wished to meet with the elder. Fyodor Kozmich was close to him a couple of times - these meetings made a strong impression on the newcomer, since the righteous man had a striking resemblance to the deceased emperor.
Such rumors soon reached the elder. On this occasion, he did not speak out in any way, but came to Latyshev and said that he was tired of human attention and wanted to move to another place. He looked after a clearing in the taiga, ten versts from the village of Korobeinikova, and asked his benefactor to help move the cell there.
Fyodor Kozmich lived from July 1851 to October 1854 among virgin nature, far from the annoying attention of people. Gradually, the walkers have trodden a path to these places. Again there was no rest for the elder, and he moved to the village of Krasnaya Rechka. Not far from her, he founded a new cell in a dense forest.
In these places he met the merchant Semyon Feofantievich Khromov. He treated the devout man with great respect and persuaded the elder to move to him at a hut, located four miles from the city of Tomsk.
The move took place in November 1858, and until the end of his days Fyodor Kozmich lived either in a cell at the settlement, or in a merchant's house on Monastyrskaya Street in Tomsk. These two people had frequent conversations, and one day the merchant asked the elder to give his true name. The same one answered: “No, it can never be revealed. Bishop Innokenty and Athanasius asked me about this, and he told them the same thing that I am telling you, punk."
Despite this his statement, the Tomsk hieromonk Raphael later claimed that the elder had confessed to him and identified himself. The hieromonk did not disclose the secret of confession, because he did not have such a right. Fyodor Kozmich's confessor, archpriest of the Krasnoyarsk cemetery church, Pyotr Popov, said a similar thing. From him Fyodor Kozmich received holy gifts (communion) and was very frank. The archpriest also categorically refused to give the true name of the mysterious old man.
Towards the end of 1863, just at the beginning of winter, there was a thaw. Unexpected warming amid cold weather plays an insidious joke with many. Fyodor Kozmich did not escape it either. Apparently he walked wide open, did not wrap himself in warm clothes. He blew it with the wind, and a man with a serious cold lay down.
He was 86 at that time. The age is far from young, and although the body is strong, but weakened by numerous fasts and prayers, it could not adequately withstand the disease. Therefore, the elder became worse and worse. In January 1864, he felt very bad. At the insistence of the merchant Khromov, he moved from the hut to his house. Here he was provided with proper care, trying to somehow postpone the inevitable impending death.
A few days before the death of the elder, the merchant dared to ask him once again for his true name. Fyodor Kozmich answered dryly and aloof: "God knows." He did not talk more on this topic.
The divine man died on January 20 (February 1), 1864, at the age of 87 in the house of the merchant Khromov. He was buried in the cemetery of the Tomsk Mother of God-Alekseevsky monastery. An inscription was made on a wooden cross over the grave: "The body of the Great Blessed Elder Theodore Kozmich is buried here."
Semyon Feofant'evich Khromov made out the things of the deceased. They discovered: a crucifix made of ivory of marvelous work, the order chain of St. Andrew the First-Called (the order was the highest award of the Russian Empire), a psalter with the inscription: "This psalter belongs to the Saransk Peter and Paul monastery to the cassock monk Alexei Zolotarev."
The most intriguing were the notes, which consisted of two paper ribbons, covered on both sides in small handwriting. It was impossible to read what was written, as it was a code. For reference, it should be noted that to this day no one has been able to unravel the secret information contained on the narrow strips of paper.
The deceased did not have any other valuables. Two days after his death, a pencil drawing was made, depicting Fyodor Kozmich on his deathbed. This is the only portrait of a mysterious old man.
Pencil drawing of Fyodor Kozmich on his deathbed.
His whole life was shrouded in an impenetrable veil of secrecy. Such mysteriousness gave rise to a rumor that Fyodor Kozmich was none other than the Russian emperor, who did not die in Taganrog, but secretly left the city and reincarnated as a wandering man of God. And for almost two hundred years, Alexander the First and the mystery of his death have haunted all those who are not indifferent to the history of the fatherland.
There are many hypotheses and assumptions on this topic. Most researchers are inclined to think that the Siberian elder and the emperor are one and the same person. Those who are in the minority, argue the opposite, referring to the detailed records of the last days of the life of Alexander the First, to a medical report and a nationwide funeral.
It should also be noted that all those who were present at the bedside of the dying autocrat never subsequently said anything that could cast a shadow of doubt on the death of Alexander the First - maybe their lips were tied by an oath of silence?
This is quite possible to admit, but what about then with a large number of accompanying persons. Among them were not only nobles, who could also take a vow of silence, but also a numerous servants: people of low birth, having a weak idea of honor, dignity and loyalty to a given word.
The emperor, of course, could not initiate anyone into his plans, except for his wife. But was it realistic for him at first to pretend to be terminally ill in front of everyone, and then quietly leave the house filled with people?
And the corpse of a double in a coffin - this already pulls on a modern thriller. Who organized all this, who did it? It is possible to guess that the non-commissioned officer Strumensky was specially killed in order to put his body in the royal coffin. It already smacks of communist times. In devout patriarchal tsarist Russia, this was simply unthinkable.
On the other hand, it is necessary to take into account the personality of Alexander the Great: character, worldview, attitude to human values. He is rightfully considered one of the key figures of the 19th century.
As a politician, Alexander the First took place completely. Under him, the borders of the Russian Empire expanded significantly, many reforms that were useful for the state received an impetus; a project for the abolition of serfdom was developed, the Patriotic War of 1812 was won.
If we talk about the character of the emperor, then, according to his contemporaries, his main features were insincerity and secrecy. The autocrat possessed a flexible mind, charm, easily attracted an interlocutor, charmed people with his ease and ease of communication. At the same time, it was imprudent to believe his words and false disposition.
The origins of Alexander the First's duplicity came from childhood, when the boy had to communicate with Father Paul I, then with grandmother Catherine II, who could not stand each other. The child was forced to adapt to both and, pleasing one side, thereby trying not to spoil relations with the other. Such a developed flexibility later served him well in foreign policy games, but in dealing with her subjects she did not look very nice.
It should also be noted such traits of the emperor's character as emotionality, impressionability and vulnerability. Apparently, he was not a self-confident person, often hesitated in decision-making and sometimes followed the lead of stronger and more willed people.
Alexander the First received power as a result of a conspiracy, which he knew very well. He just did not assume that the conspirators would kill his father, naively believing that he would only be arrested and voluntarily abdicate the throne in favor of his son. Such a scenario was hardly possible, given the character of Paul I, and the intentions of those people who opposed him.
Whatever it was, willingly or unwillingly, Alexander the First became an accomplice in the murder of his father. According to all human and church laws, parricide is considered one of the gravest sins. Carrying such a burden through life to a person with a refined and vulnerable psyche is a very difficult and painful task. Over time, the soul will ask for cleansing and getting rid of such a heavy burden. In such cases, there is only one way out: to devote your life to serving God in order to earn forgiveness with constant prayers and a righteous life.
The emperor was tormented by such mental throwing, no - it is unknown: someone else's soul is dark. But if they tortured him, then did Alexander the First have enough will and fortitude to voluntarily relinquish power and go as a wanderer to the world of ordinary people, or did he die of a sudden illness, never fulfilling his plan? There is no answer to this question.
In a word, until the mystery of the mysterious elder has been solved. But the XXI century is not XX. Nowadays there is such a thing as genetic examination. Everyone knows where the remains of Fyodor Kozmich lie, there are also representatives of the Romanov family. However, this is a matter of competence of people in power already. If they find it expedient to conduct such an examination, then Alexander the First and the mystery of his death will cease to disturb the minds of people.
In conclusion, I would like to note that the emperor suffered from some physical defects. The sovereign could hear poorly in his left ear and had myopia. So, according to the recollections of eyewitnesses, it is known that Elder Fyodor Kozmich also "a bear stepped on his left ear with his paw." As for vision, even in rather advanced years, God saw very well up close. This may be indirect evidence of myopia at a younger age. Although this does not prove anything - you never know people with similar symptoms.
Author: ridar-shakin
