On May 4, 1703, in Germany, in the city of Jena, drunken students fought in a tavern "At the Rose", and one of them, pulling out his sword, killed a comrade. So, with the murder in a drunken tavern brawl, a sixteen-year-old student, the future first minister of Russia, Heinrich Osterman, began his independent life …
Demon inside
Such a beginning seems inconceivably strange for a person, whose whole life and activity is rationalism itself, prudence itself, as well as careful calculation, a subtle, thoughtful intrigue. But before this fight in the tavern "U Rosa" everything was going as well as possible.
Henry is a pretty, short youth, obedient son of a pastor from the small Westphalian town of Bochum. He was born in 1686, studied well at school, easily entered Jena University. His father hoped that his son would become a pastor, a theologian, maybe even a professor.
And now such a terrible incident! They say that the poor father fainted from shame and grief when he had to read from the pulpit of his native church an announcement about the search for his own son, who did not obediently surrender himself to the police, but fled from Jena who knows where …
And yet, knowing a lot about Osterman's long and difficult life, I cannot say that the event in the tavern "At the Rose" was an accident, unexpected and illogical. There is a mystery in the character, in the personality of Osterman. Meek and quiet, he sometimes exploded with an evil act suddenly and unexpectedly for those around him.
Behind his external composure, cunning, and rationality was a volcano of ambition, pride, vanity and even adventurism. And then this most intelligent analyst could not cope with his passions and made ridiculous blunders, finding himself, as in Jena, in an extremely difficult situation.
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Escape to Russia
Fearing justice, Osterman fled to Holland, to Amsterdam … In the narrow and noisy streets of this trading Mecca of Europe, a fugitive student took refuge, penniless, without a future.
It should be said that the events in the "U Rosa" tavern took place in the days of May 1703. It was at this time that Peter I was founding Petersburg, walked with a yardstick in his hands along the Hare Island, where the fortress was being erected, celebrated his first victory at sea when he took two Swedish ships at the head of the boarding team.
Russia noisily went to the shores of the Baltic. And she badly needed specialists. Therefore, Peter sent to Amsterdam the recently hired Admiral Cornelius Cruis, who recruited people to work in Muscovy. And it was here that the paths of Osterman and Cruis crossed, and this was the second turning point in the life of our hero.
However, Osterman did not choose Russia by chance - he knew that his older brother Johann was a teacher in Moscow under the Russian princesses - the daughters of the late Tsar Ivan Alekseevich, brother of Peter 1.
When Osterman arrived in St. Petersburg, we do not know. For the first time he slips out of the shadow of obscurity in 1705, when his name was mentioned among the diligent parishioners of the first Lutheran church of St. Peter (which is now on Nevsky). Apparently, Osterman zealously atoned for his sin. Then his career began.
Workaholic career
On the recommendation of Cruis, Osterman was taken to the Ambassadorial Chancellery, where translators were badly needed. He knew many languages, and then quickly mastered Russian, although he always spoke with a funny accent until his death.
In the 1730s, the caustic, tongue-in-cheek princess Praskovya Yusupova (she suffered for her language) told how Osterman interrogated her:
“And what Osterman was asking me about, I did not understand, because Osterman did not speak as eloquently as the Russians say:“One hundred ts here, will you play with us, then the children play, but here you are not called to play, but we will ask you about this, about that and answer."
But the accent is a mere trifle. Half of Peter's associates spoke with an accent. The main thing is that Osterman was on the job, Peter's Russia needed him. Without connections, friends, money, patrons, he began his career as a simple clerk and translator in the Ambassadorial Chancellery, which later became the Collegium of Foreign Affairs, and then achieved brilliant results. Peter himself noticed him and began to involve him in serious diplomatic work.
A flexible mind, diligence, German pedantry and accuracy - everything was to the liking of the tsar. And further. Osterman had one quality that amazed everyone in Russia. He was distinguished by fantastic efficiency. According to contemporaries, he always worked: day and night, on weekdays and holidays, which, of course, no self-respecting Russian minister could afford.
Negotiator from God
Osterman as a diplomat grew in importance over the years. Not a single major foreign policy event in which Russian diplomacy took part could do without it. The pinnacle of Osterman's professional success can be considered the conclusion in the fall of 1721 of the Nystadt Peace with Sweden, according to which Russia received the Baltic territories.
And although the name of Osterman is on the list of plenipotentiary ambassadors in Nishtadt second after Count Jacob Bruce, it was he, Osterman, who was the brain of the Russian delegation, the true father of the treaty most beneficial for Russia. And Tsar Peter understood this.
On the day of the celebration of the Peace of Nystad, Osterman becomes a nobleman and a baron - could a modest pastor's son from Bochum, for whom the noose on the Jena gallows cried for a long time? In 1723, Osterman became vice-chancellor of Russia - a position almost transcendental for any official. Send orders, awards, lands in shoals …
Count Heinrich Johann Friedrich Ostermann, in Russia - Andrey Ivanovich - one of the associates of Peter I, a native of Westphalia, who actually led the foreign policy of the Russian Empire in the 1720s and 1730s. He served as vice-chancellor and first cabinet minister. In 1740 he was promoted to the rank of admiral general.
What was Osterman's strength as a diplomat? The surviving documents demonstrate his iron logic, acumen and common sense. The Vice-Chancellor built Russian foreign policy on consistent observance of Russian interests, sober calculation, intention and ability to establish allied relations only with those powers that could be useful to Russia.
Osterman carefully, pedantically, “in an accounting” manner analyzed and compared the correlation between Russia's “general interests” and the “benefits” or “dangers” arising from its potential partners and allies.
"Our system," Osterman wrote in 1728, "should be to run away from everything, if it could lead us into what space." That is, to preserve freedom of action, not to be drawn into a dubious adventure or an unprofitable union. This was not a sign of cowardly politics, but a call to act wisely in everything.
In 1726, Osterman initiated the conclusion of an alliance with Austria, whose "general interests" in Poland and in the Black Sea region then exactly coincided with the Russians. And this calculation of the vice-chancellor turned out to be accurate for a century - for almost the entire 18th and early 19th centuries, Russia and Austria were together. The white uniforms of the Austrians ended up next to the green uniforms of the Russians in all wars with Prussia, Turkey, during the partition of Poland, in campaigns against Napoleon.
But being a diplomat and not being a politician is impossible, especially in the royal court, which lived in a world of intrigue. It was difficult to stay in the saddle on the sharp turns of history! Many times Osterman hovered over the abyss, but he safely climbed up.
Anna Ioannovna - Russian empress from the Romanov dynasty.
During the reign of Empress Anna Ioannovna (1730–1740), he came closest to the pinnacle of power. He became a cabinet minister, an influential dignitary and no longer limited himself only to foreign policy, but also conducted internal affairs.
With his colossal capacity for work, his mind, he clearly suppressed his other colleagues. He also collaborated with General Andrey Ushakov, the head of the Secret Chancellery. Together they conducted secret search cases, together they interrogated criminals. Let us recall Princess Yusupova - from the above quote it is clear that the minister was not talking with the girl in the salon …
The imaginary sick
As a cabinet minister, Osterman remained what nature created him and shaped his everyday experience: an intelligent, cunning, secretive, selfish person, an unprincipled politician who knew his own worth well.
“The king, our sovereign,” wrote the Spanish envoy, the Duke de Liria, “let him not think that Osterman is a perfect man: he is deceitful, ready for anything to achieve his goal, he has no religion because he has already changed it three times, and extremely insidious, but this is the kind of person we need and without whom we will not do anything."
It is important to note here that he was one of those rare figures in Russia of the 18th century who did not smear himself with bribes and theft. His life was entirely absorbed in work and intrigue. Everything else seemed to him secondary and unimportant.
Andrei Ivanovich (as the Russians called him), having lived in Russia for almost half a century, never made any friends or acquaintances. He was always alone. Yes, this is understandable - communication with Osterman was extremely unpleasant. His secrecy and hypocrisy were the talk of the town, and not particularly clever pretense was anecdotal.
Count Andrey Ivanovich Osterman.
In the most crucial or delicate moments of his political career, he suddenly fell ill. He had either gout of his right hand (so as not to sign dangerous papers), then rheumatism (so as not to go to the palace), or hiragra or migraine (so as not to answer sensitive questions).
He went to bed for a long time, and there was no way to get him out of there - he groaned so loudly that the unfortunate patient could be heard from the street.
Often during diplomatic negotiations, when the vice-chancellor wanted to interrupt a conversation that was inconvenient for him, he suddenly began to vomit. The English envoy Finch wrote that in this case one must sit and wait in cold blood:
“Those who know him leave him to continue the crappy game, sometimes taken to extremes, and continue their speech; the count, seeing that it is not possible to expel the interlocutor, immediately recovers as if nothing had happened.
Rootless and obedient
Indeed, in his pretense, Osterman knew when to stop: the courtier's keen nose always told him when to lie in bed, barely raising his eyelids, and when, groaning and groaning, often on a stretcher, he should still go to the palace.
Empress Anna Ioannovna, a simple and dark woman, highly appreciated her minister for his solidity, scholarship and thoroughness. She could not do without Osterman's advice - she just needed to be patient and, ignoring all his numerous reservations, digressions and vague hints, wait for practical advice on how to proceed.
Osterman was good for Anna as a person completely dependent on her favors. He never managed to become his own for the Russians. Although he married a girl Martha from the old boyar family of the Streshnevs, he remained a stranger for the Russian nobility, a "German", which, as you know, was not the best characteristic of a person in Russia. That is why he clung so tightly to the strongest.
Countess Marfa Ivanovna Osterman, nee Streshneva - Lady of State Catherine I, wife of Vice-Chancellor Andrei Osterman.
Osterman has always done it flawlessly. At first, such a person was for Andrei Ivanovich his boss, Vice-Chancellor P. P. Shafirov. But when in 1723 Shafirov fell into disgrace, Osterman, who took his place, in every possible way prevented his former patron from "surfacing" to the surface.
Then A. D. Menshikov became the idol of Andrei Ivanovich. And Osterman betrayed him for the sake of Peter II and the Dolgoruky princes. Under Anna Ioannovna, he first flirted with Field Marshal Munnich, and then long sought the location of Biron, eventually becoming an indispensable assistant and consultant for the temporary worker.
In this line of Osterman the politician there is no special malice of character: "cosi 'fan tutte" - "everyone does this" (Italian).
This is not your role, director
But Biron himself was a grated, smart guy and did not particularly trust Osterman. The temporary worker understood that the special strength of Osterman the politician consisted in his phenomenal ability to act covertly, from behind the scenes. But at some point, Biron missed a blow from another of his associates - Field Marshal Minich - and was overthrown.
However, soon Minich himself, against his will, flew from the top. It so happened that by the beginning of 1741, the political scene was suddenly cleared of powerful figures. A weak and narrow-minded ruler, Anna Leopoldovna, was in power. It was then that Osterman decided that his hour had struck!
Osterman in order clothes.
That latent ambitious energy, which bubbled in him from his youth, burst out. Under the ruler, he became the first minister, the de facto leader of the state. It was the hour of triumph, victory …
In 1741, Osterman first came out of the wings to the forefront of politics. Accustomed to acting in political darkness, able to rake in the heat with someone else's hands, he turned out to be untenable in the world as a public politician, a leader.
He did not have the qualities necessary for this role - will, determination, authority, what is called charisma. And he had many enemies. One of them was just waiting for the moment to cling to Osterman …
Adorable Fury's Wrath
It was the beautiful crown princess Elizaveta Petrovna, who knew about Osterman's many intrigues against her. She remembered well how he wanted to marry her off to some seedy German prince, how he ordered to follow her every step, how, finally, in 1740, he did not allow the Persian envoy to give her luxurious gifts on behalf of Shah Nadir.
No, this was impossible to forget! Therefore, it is not surprising that the coup on November 25, 1741, which brought Elizaveta Petrovna to power, carried Osterman into oblivion. The new empress, knowing the resourcefulness and cunning of the first minister, sentenced him to death.
Elizabeth I Petrovna - Russian empress from the Romanov dynasty, the youngest daughter of Peter I and Catherine I, born two years before their marriage.
He was taken to the place of execution near the building of the Twelve Collegiums on a sleigh - he was sick with gout, or maybe hiragra, or maybe he was really sick. But they did not believe him, groaning and groaning. They dragged him to the scaffold by force, tore off the wig from his head, nailed his neck, put his head on the block.
The executioner raised the ax, but at that moment the secretary stopped the executioner's hand and read the decree on replacing the death penalty with exile to Siberia, to Berezov, that is, to the very place where he had sent Menshikov together with the Dolgoruky.
Inflamed with vodka and the general attention of the crowd, the executioner, as if annoyed by the fact that his victim was taken away from him, kicked the first minister off the block with a kick - after all, there is no sweeter pleasure than mocking the fallen ruler.
The old fox is caught
Osterman was evidently discouraged. When Prince Yakov Shakhovskoy, fulfilling the will of the empress, read him in the Peter and Paul Fortress an order for immediate exile, the former first minister, lying on the straw, only groaned.
The old, wise fox realized that he could no longer get out, that the trap was locked up forever and everyone had betrayed him, an everlasting traitor. No, not all! Martha, wrapped in a fur coat, stood at the prison door, shifting in the cold. She, like the wife of Minich, Osterman's accomplice, was waiting for her husband to be taken into exile to sit with him in a sleigh and share his fate …
"View of the town of Berezov from the south." Author: Königfels Tobias.
The spouses were brought to Berezov. From St. Petersburg, the guards were strictly ordered not to take their eyes off the cunning man - they did not believe his diseases. Did the officials in St. Petersburg think that he was dangerous, that he would be able to carry on? And where? Not to Bochum! However, the authorities in these cases always try to play it safe.
So, one prisoner put on a chain, who became famous as a sorcerer, was not allowed to drink in prison. More precisely, they let a wet rag suck, and a mug or a ladle of water - no, no! It turns out that they were afraid lest he, folding his hands into a boat, would dive into the water and escape the sovereign's wrath!
Ah yes Martha
Meanwhile, in St. Petersburg Osterman was sorely lacking - for fifteen years Russia's foreign policy had been done by his hands, and it turned out quite well. It took a long time to tie the threads of the diplomatic web, torn by the sudden overthrow of the vice-chancellor. But, as you know, there are no irreplaceable people in Russia, and Osterman was quickly forgotten.
He died in 1747, not even reaching the age of sixty. What he thought about during Berezov's long winter nights, we do not know. Did he remember his native green Bochum, that terrible night on May 4, 1703, when he killed his comrade and crippled his own life in the tavern "At the Rose" (damn it, that Rose!)?
Or maybe not at all crippled? If he had not started this fight, he would have graduated from the university, become a pastor, a professor, would have stifled ambitious aspirations and dreams in himself, he would have died unknown, he would not have gone down in history as an outstanding diplomat. Dying, he bequeathed to his wife to bury him in European Russia.
At the beginning of September, the same 1747, Osterman's wife was to leave Berezovo by ship to Tobolsk, and from there to Russia. She spent the whole last night at her husband's grave, in tears and prayers.
Osterman's grave in Berezovo. Engraving by L. Seryakov after fig. M. Znamensky. 1862 g.
After her departure from Berezovo, a rumor spread among the residents that on the last night, with the help of the courtyard people who were with her, she dug her husband's body out of the ground and, putting it in a large box, filled with wax, took with her to Russia.
Martha buried her priceless cargo somewhere. Maybe in Suzdal - there she settled in one of the monasteries (possibly in Pokrovsky, famous for its prisoners).
We learned about this from the denunciation of a local priest, who, on some patronal holiday, impudently climbed into her cell for a treat once, twice, until Ostermanikha kicked him out into the yard. Then the priest out of spite and wrote an empty, useless denunciation to the old woman … Otherwise, we would not have learned about the fate of the faithful Martha …
From the book: "Palace Secrets". Evgeny Viktorovich Anisimov
