Ministry of Culture
of the Russian Federation The Russian Military
and Historical Society with the Support of the Government
of the Novgorod Region present He did everything that he could. He tried to stop that senseless and
exhausting war of everybody against all. At that war,
he lost his younger brother. He lost his friend who became his enemy. He lost his son. In that war, there would be no winners. Not a single ruler has ever done it
before or after him. He asked for peace. He was much stronger,
but he preferred to ask humbly. THE RURIK DYNASTY. Episode Three “My children or anybody else who hears
my words, don’t laugh at them. But those of my children who will like them,
take them into your heart...” In the mid-11 century,
the fifth generation of Rurik’s kin was ruling in the Russian state. Before his death, Prince Yaroslav the Wise shared
the thrones between his five sons, bequeathed them to live in love
and not to fight against other brothers. However, the kin of Prince Rurik
was branching out more and more. Soon, its new generation engaged
in a fight with the older generation. The Ancient Rus plunged
into the molting lava of a war of everybody against everybody, despite the fact that Yaroslav
did warn his sons against that. Yaroslav’s testament
was addressed to his sons and didn’t take into account
his numerous grandchildren. Except for one. Yaroslav named the firstborn
of his favorite son Vsevolod in honor of the great Prince
Vladimir the Baptizer. He as if foresaw that out of the entire
large kin of Rurik’s descendants he would be the only one
able to fulfil his will and to hold the state
on the edge of the precipice. The boy was called Vladimir,
baptized Vasiliy, nicknamed Monomakh. VLADIMIR MONOMAKH. Chapter One His mother was
the Byzantine Princess Maria, a daughter
of Emperor Constantine IX Monomakh. Since childhood, Vladimir was fluent
in Greek, like his mother, and read a lot – like his father. The years spent in the beautiful
and peaceful Pereyaslavl were the happiest
and calmest time of his life. His father Vsevolod, son of Yaroslav, didn’t arrange military campaigns often
and didn’t like loud feasts. However, he loved reading,
talking to the educated monks and he tried to never miss a mass. “If you know how to do something good,
don’t forget it. If you don’t know how to do something,
learn it. My father sat at home
but knew five languages, that’s why other countries honored him. When you’re doing something good, don’t be lazy in doing something good,
first of all, for the church. Let the sun never meet you in bed...” Princes were first of all warriors. Monomakh had been
a great warrior since youth – strong, durable and skillful. Hunting was an honorable duty
of a prince as a keeper of his lands. According to an ancient tradition,
the luck at the prince’s hunting trips equaled the battle glory
and had a symbolical meaning. Therefore,
princes had to hunt big game – bears, wolves, bores,
deer and turs that were abundant
in the Russian woods at those times. They were mostly hunting
large prey on horsebacks. They killed deer with arrows,
and boars and turs – with heavy spears. Hunting bears was considered
the most dangerous. As a rule, a hunting trip would
take place in early spring when the animal was still weak
after the winter slumber. The hunting for a bear called
for great bravery and skillfulness. On luring the beast out of his lair, the hunter would effectively fight it
one of one. He aimed the sharp,
prickly end of the spear called “rozhon” – “a prick”,
into its heart. Hence the saying “lezt na rozhon”,
“kick against the pricks”. Trying to reach the hunter, the bear would impale itself
on a spear under its own weight. Then, the hunter had to cut
the predator’s throat, and then he could celebrate victory. “I was working a lot at hunting. I used to kill turs easily
and by hundreds. I used to tie wild horses
with my bare hands. Two turs pricked me with their horns,
me and my horse too, a deer butted me,
a boar bit a sword on my lap, a bear bit a piece of armor off my knee, a snow leopard jumped
on my horse and threw me off it. However, God kept me safe”. When Monomakh was in his twenties, he married the Princess
of England Gita of Essex. Her father,
the last Anglo-Saxonian king, perished in a battle with the Normans
who had conquered England, and her family was exiled. For Gita, a marriage with a young
Russian prince was a real salvation. She gave him six sons and four daughters. She gave her elder son, Mstislav, a second name – Harald,
in honor of her father. The kin of the Anglo-Saxonian kings
continued in the Rurik’s dynasty. International marriages
were a usual practice in those times. Monomakh’s father
married a Greek Princess. His elder son will marry
a Swedish princess. One of his granddaughters
will become a Queen of Denmark, the second one – of Norway,
and the third one – the Greek Empress. Monomakh’s younger sister Evpraksia will become the Empress
of the Holy Roman Empire. The brides used to go to Europe
with a large envoy consisting of ambassadors,
noble ladies, a priest and a military detachment of guards. They were bringing
lots of personal belongings, jewelry, plus gifts and books. On the way,
a princess would learn the language and customs of her new state. On arrival of the bride to the groom,
the guards came back, and the envoy usually stayed
with the princess. Princess Gita was a refugee
so she came to Rus without an envoy. Her young husband
became her only close soul. However,
in a couple of months after the wedding, when Gita was first expecting,
Monomakh had to leave her alone for long. He started a military campaign with his comrade and cousin Oleg,
son of Svyatoslav. In the course of four months
of the campaign, the brothers became close friends. On return, Monomakh found out
that he had become a father, and asked Oleg to become a godfather
for his firstborn. In a year, another son was born,
and Oleg became his godfather again. It was a happy time.
They were young and had nothing to share. However, it soon changed. The order of the succession to the throne
was determined by the so-called rota, or lestvitsa law (from the Russian word
“lestvitsa” or “lestnitsa”, a ladder). It stipulated the transfer of the throne
in Kiev from a father to his elder son, and then from a brother
to a brother by the order of age. The other princes were taking turns
to sit on the throne, rotating after the eldest brother. Only the Prince of Kiev had a privilege
of appointing the sons to the thrones. The princes whose father didn’t have
a chance to sit on the Kiev’s throne, fell out of the system
and remained without any land, effectively becoming outcasts. When Prince of Kiev Svyatoslav,
Oleg’s father, died, according to the law of the rota,
his brother Vsevolod, Monomakh’s father, ascended the throne,
and Monomakh himself settled in Chernigov. However,
Oleg also wanted to rule Chernigov as he considered it his native town,
for his father used to rule there. Oleg fled to the south
and joined forces with his cousins who were left without the lands too. Three princes-outcasts
began the war for lands and power. That was the first time when two principles
of succession to the throne clashed: the rota, or ladder principle,
when the power was handed over from a brother to a brother,
and the hereditary – from the father to the son. In dozens of years, the hereditary
principle Oleg was fighting for will win, and it will be nobody else but
Vladimir Monomakh who will see to that. But in 1078,
he and Oleg were at the different sides. Oleg was ready for anything
and using every stick in the book. He was the first of the Princes who brought the worst enemies
of Rus there – the Cumans. The Cumans, or Polovtsi,
were nomadic Turkic people. Their horde consisted
of around 40,000 people, and the territory occupied by each nomadic
horde amounted to 100 sq. km. Light cavalry was the main force
of the Cumin troops. The Cumans didn’t know how to seize
fortresses and preferred robbery raids, plundering small towns and villages
on the border of the Steppes; they always took thousands
of people prisoners. Exhausting war with the Cumans
lasted for a century and a half and nearly crumbed the Russian state. However, Oleg didn’t care
for the consequences of the Cuman raids. He brought the steppe people
over and over again. For that, he got a nickname of Goreslavich,
meaning “the one bringing sorrow”, and bitter memory
about his actions would outlive the least-peaceful
of all the princes for centuries. To suppress him,
a special operation was needed. Prince of Kiev bribed the Crimean Khazars, and they kidnapped Oleg
and took him to Constantinople. From there, he managed to come back, but not at once, and only to Tmutarakan where he had sat quietly
and unnoticeably for good ten years. Tmutarakan or Tamararkha
is an ancient town on the Taman peninsula. At the end of the 10th century, it was the capital
of the Tmutarakan Princedom, a part of the Ancient Rus state. It was mostly populated with the Greeks
and the Caucasian peoples. Tmutarakan was the furthest corner of Rus, hence its name became a common noun
meaning a deep province. Peace settled in Rus again,
but it wasn’t stable, and it was quite difficult
for Prince of Kiev Vsevolod to support it. His nephews were constantly arguing
over their lands. He had to reconcile them,
transfer from one throne to another, threaten some and talk the others
into accepting some decisions. For Vsevolod, it was a heavy burden. He began to get sick, grew noticeably older
and almost never left Kiev. His elder son Vladimir Monomakh
became his right hand and the executor of his decisions. He was also the one who undertook the defense
from constant raids of the Cumans. It meant campaigns,
battles and negotiations – and endless versts of the roads. “From Chernigov to Kiev, I travelled
to father about a hundred of times. I had 83 great campaigns, and I can’t even remember
how many smaller ones I had...” The trouble came from an unexpected place. An epidemic started
all over Western Europe – in Italy, France, and Germany. It was called the Antony’s Fire. The decease that befell rye and wheat
must have been started by a fungus called the blackgrain,
that led to a serious poisoning, hallucinations and gangrene. People infected with the Antony’s Fire as if burnt alive,
dying in terrible sufferings. The plague came to the Russian lands too. In Polatsk, during one month
of the Christmas Lent of 1092, over 7,000 people,
or a third of its population, died. In Ancient Rus, there were a couple
of forms of medical assistance – private practice,
patronage and hospital help. City doctors kept shops
selling medicines – potions. Bonesetting that modern surgeons
or orthopedics do, was considered to be a separate medical
specialty, as well as midwifery. The profession of a doctor was believed
to be a special type of art, “the medical artistry”. Private medical services were paid
if a doctor was a secular person. Monasteries opened hospitals that were rendering medical assistance
to everybody who needed it, for free. When plague reached Kiev, Vladimir Monomakh himself
succumbed to the illness. One doctor, an Armenian,
tried to treat him but in vain, the decease only got worse. On the deathbed, Monomakh made the last desperate attempt
and sent a messenger to Kiev to summon a monk
of the Pechersk monastery Agapit. Agapit was known to cure
even mortally ill people with herbal potions and prayers. However, Agapit refused to come. He told the Prince’s messenger
that he had vowed to never leave the monastery
to avoid earthly temptations, and he wouldn’t violate the vow,
even for the Prince himself. However, he agreed to help. He gave him a potion and promised
to pray for the healing of the patient... The Prince was dying. The servants forcibly opened his mouth
and poured some of Agapit’s potion. At that moment, agony started. The Prince was plunging into an abyss. However, something unseen
was as if holding him. He was clutching at it
striving to dive out. And he did. After the recovery, Monomakh sent
rich gifts to the Pechersk monastery, to thank monk Agapit. But Agapit brought
all treasures out of his cell and told the messenger:
“I have never taken anything. Shall I now ruin my gift
for the sake of gold? Tell the person who sent you: When you leave this world, you won’t
be able to take anything with you. So hand everything
that you own over to those in need. That what God wanted
when he delivered you from death”. Monomakh didn’t dare disobey the old man and gave all his property to the poor. From that time on,
he was a completely changed man. Studying the God’s world
became his sense of life. Following his father’s example, he dedicated all his free time
to reading books and prayers. Monomakh’s father,
Prince of Kiev Vsevolod, son of Yaroslav, was old – 63, and very sick. Feeling the approach of death, Vsevolod called the eldest of his sons,
40-year-old Vladimir Monomakh and the youngest, 20-year-old Rostislav. The sons were with him up
to the last moment, and cried over him, and buried him
in the St. Sophia Cathedral. Monomakh stood over his father’s coffin
for a long time. What may one take into the eternal life? Only what one had experienced, understood, what he had hoped for
and what he had prayed for, what one had collected in his soul. The throne of Kiev was empty.
Monomakh was one step away from it. For many years, he was practically
ruling it together with his father. The residents of Kiev
would be happy to accept him. Out of all his relatives, other princes, he was without a doubt
the most influential and strong. Nobody would dare prevent him
from ascending Kiev’s throne. Nobody – except
for Vladimir Monomakh himself. According to the rota law,
it was the eldest in the kin, his cousin Svyatopolk
who had to become a ruler. Monomakh didn’t want
to violate the order, left the throne to him
and went to rule in Chernigov. The new Prince of Kiev Svyatopolk
made a fatal mistake when ascending the throne – he ordered
to imprison the Cuman ambassadors that were conducing peace negotiations. That immediately led
to a large-scale war with the Cumans. Svyatopolk called his brothers, Vladimir Monomakh and Rostislav,
to help him. While the preparations were under way, younger brother of Monomakh Rostislav
went to the Pechersk monastery to pray before the difficult campaign
and to ask for a blessing. On the way there, his warriors
nearly trampled an old monk Grigoriy going for the water to the Dnieper
with their horses, and began mocking
the old man’s clumsiness. Grigoriy wasn’t angry
but his face saddened. He said:
“Cry for your death and repent your sins, for the judgement has come for you. You and your prince will die in water”. On hearing his prediction,
Prince Rostislav got mad: “Do you dare predict my death of water”? In rage, he ordered his men to drown
the old man in the Dnieper. And he didn’t go to the monastery. At the end of May,
the united troops of three princes went out to meet the Cumans. In 30 km from Kiev, behind the Stugna River the hordes
of Khans Boniak and Tugorkhan nicknamed in Rus “Tugarin
the Snake Son” were standing. That year,
the Stugna overflew with melted waters, and it was dangerous to cross it. However, Prince of Kiev ordered to cross
the river and attack the enemy. At first, the Cumans broke through
the ranks of Svyatopolk’s army, then crushed the troops
of Monomakh and Rostislav. The Russians fled. Enraged Stugna was roaring
in front of them. Monomakh dismounted and swam close
to his horse, holding onto his reins. Rostislav entered the river
on the horseback, and a rapid current
washed him off his horse. Monomakh left his horse
and rushed to his brother’s rescue. He saw his outstretched hand
and eyes darkened in fear. But tumultuous waters
snatched Rostislav away from him. Monomakh struggled to get to the bank. For a long time, he lay on the sand,
choking on river water and tears. The Cumans reached Kiev,
plundered its suburbs, took many people prisoners and continued
to wreck havoc for over a year until Svyatopolk concluded peace
with Tugorkhan by marrying his daughter. Meanwhile,
restless prince Oleg Goreslavovitch brought another horde
of the Cumans to Rus. That time, he went right at Chernigov
to take his native town away from his former friend,
his cousin Vladimir Monomakh. “My army fought him for eight days
and prevented him from entering the city. However,
I felt sorry for the Christian souls and burnt villages and monasteries. So,
I gave the throne to my father’s brother and went to the throne of my own father,
to Pereyaslavl”. However, it wasn’t enough for Oleg. He went against the lands
that belonged to Monomakh. Feud was flaming up. The younger generation of the princes
engaged into it too. Monomakh’s 18-year-old son
joined the war against Oleg and died in the very first battle. Monomakh received that news
from his elder son Mstislav who informed his father that he was going
to start a war against Oleg, and asked for his help. Both of them,
Mstislav and his deceased brother, were Oleg’s godsons. He held them in his arms
when they were infants, in those far-away times when he wasn’t named
“the one who brings sorrow” and when he and Monomakh were young
and none of them could imagine that their friendship
would turn into mortal animosity. Monomakh sent reinforcements,
and he won. However, soon a messenger from Monomakh
came to Oleg with a personal letter: “When you killed my child...
and yours... you should have said on seeing his body:
“Alas to me, what have I done?” Here is your other godson
sitting by your side. If you want to kill him too,
you may do it. But if you repent to God,
you’ll get the land voluntary, and our heart will turn to you,
and we’ll live better than before. I’m neither your enemy nor avenger.
I don’t want any evil”. The world history
doesn’t know any other example when a victor would write
such a letter to his defeated enemy. Oleg agreed to conclude the truce. But Monomakh knew
that it couldn’t go on like this. For years,
the country was in a state of war. While the princes
were battling for thrones, the Cumans were wreaking havoc
on their lands, burning cities and villages, and there weren’t enough people
to restore them, as thousands of the Russian prisoners
were sold at the slave markets from Byzantine to Khorezm. The feud had to be stopped at any cost. Monomakh spared no efforts to convene
the First All-Russian Council of the Princes in Lyubech –
“to organize peace". The Council in Lyubech took a decision: “everybody shall hold
onto their own land”. It meant that the rota law was replaced by a principle of hereditary succession
to the throne. It was Vladimir Monomakh who initiated it despite the fact that it was
the least beneficial for him. “They told each other:
“Let’s unite with our hearts and look after the Russian land”. And they kissed the cross for that. However, in a couple of days
a terrible piece of news arrived: Prince of Kiev Svyatopolk ordered
to seize and blind Prince Vasilko. He committed that crime
to take Vasilko’s lands the ownership to which had just been
confirmed at the council of the princes. To bling a competitor
to deprive him of the power – nothing like that had ever happened
in Rus before. For Monomakh, that treachery felt
like a stab of a knife into a heart. He and his allies
brought their armies to Kiev. Prince who spared no efforts
to restore peace, was now ready to start the war himself. However, residents of Kiev came out
to meet him and begged to conclude peace. Monomakh stopped his troops
and began difficult negotiations. Finally, the princes managed
to come to terms. Then, long-awaited peace finally settled
in the Dnieper princedoms. Monomakh lived calmly
in his beloved Pereyaslavl. He began to put down his thoughts
and impressions, analyze the difficult experience
of his life. Monomakh was the only Russian ruler
who wrote a serious literary work – not for the sake of glory,
but to instruct his children. The Prince worked on it
until the rest of his life. It became his testament and was called
the Instruction of Vladimir Monomakh. The Instruction was addressed
to Monomakh’s sons and was in essence an ethical program for many generations
of the Russia princes to come. “My children! Don’t forget the poor,
and give alms to the orphans, and help the widows,
and don’t let the strong offend the weak. Don’t kill either a right or a wrong;
even if somebody deserves death, don’t ruin the Christian soul. Respect old people like your parents,
and young people like your brothers. Don’t be lazy in your households,
look after everything. Watch out for lies,
and drinking, and adultery, because both soul and body die of that. Love your wife but don’t let her rule you. Here is the basis of everything:
have fear of God above all. If you don’t remember it,
read it as often as you can. Then I won’t be ashamed,
and you’ll feel good”. Out of his five sons, the elder, Mstislav Harald,
resembled his father the most. He ruled in Novgorod
and lived in peace with everybody. Like his father, Mstislav loved hunting. And at some point, an event happened that his mother Princess Gita
was so afraid of – a bear hurt him severely. The young Prince was brought
home with a torn stomach. Gita stayed with her son for a whole day
praying to St. Panteleimon so passionately that her relatives
were scared for her sanity. In a couple of days,
Prince suddenly came to his senses and told about his vision: St. Panteleimon the healer told him
that he would recover. And Mstislav recovered indeed. Princess Gita packed her things
to go to a far-away land. She vowed to make a pilgrimage
to Jerusalem. Gita didn’t return to Rus. She died somewhere in Palestine
and was buried there. Soon after Mstislav's miraculous recovery,
his son was born. He was called Panteleimon. In many years,
the saint will save him too. Wounded in a battle, he will be dying in a mass of bodies,
in blood and dirt, and his soldiers will recognize
their Prince by his battle helmet with the image
of the heavenly patron on it. Monomakh was in his 50-ies now.
His life was going to an end. The eternal threat of the Cuman raids remained the main threat
to the Russian lands. Monomakh decided to get rid
of that threat once and for all. He thought it over and came up
with a completely new war tactics: not to wait until the Cumans
start their raid but go to meet them, in early spring, when their horses
would be weak from lack of food. Without their horses,
the Cumans were helpless. That tactics called for strictly
coordinated actions of the Russian princes. It took Monomakh lots of efforts
to talk them into that. Many people considered it
to be a hopeless case. However, he managed to mobilize
a coalition of a dozen of princes. The campaign began at the end of February. For the first time ever,
priests were taken too. To speed the movements up, the infantrymen
were transported on the sledges. Behind the Sula River
where the snow had already melted, they left the sledges behind
and went forward sending detachments of scouts
in front of the main forces. After crossing the Don,
the troops put their armor on and got ready for the battle. Everybody realized
that in a case of a failure, nobody would come back home alive. They were now too far away
from their native lands. But Monomakh was certain that
the heavenly forces were on their side, as well as the victory. Before the battle, the priests read prayers
and sang hymns to the Honest Cross and Holy Mother of God
in front of the troops. The warriors sang along
looking at the horizon, dark from the Cuman hordes. They prayed
and bid farewell to each other: “Here, we may meet death,
so let’s stand strong”. “...and the troops of the Cumans
and the Russians moved forward, and the clashing sound was heard
when their regiments met. Then, God sent an angel
to help the Russian princes. Vladimir and his regiments
began the advance. On seeing that, the Cumans fled”. That victory wasn’t just
a military success. The Cumans fled far away into the steppes, away from the Russian lands
and dangerous Monomakh. People said that all the neighboring
rulers got scared of him, and the Greek Tsar even
sent rich gifts to Monomakh to prevent him from attacking Tsargrad. Many years later, a legend
of the “Monomakh’s gifts” was born on the basis of those stories
stating that Emperor Constantin allegedly sent to Vladimir
the crown relics – a golden Tsar’s crown,
a belt and a chest necklace. In the 16th century,
the crown of the Russian tsars will be called “the Monomakh’s Hat”. The Monomakh’s Hat exhibited
in the Weapons’ Room of the Moscow Kremlin is one of the most ancient tsar relics,
a symbol of the Russian monarchy. It was used to crown all the Russian tsars
starting from Ivan the Terrible to Ivan V, brother and co-ruler of Peter the Great. However, that crown has no connection
to Vladimir Monomakh. A golden round hat was made
many centuries later, most likely by the Eastern
or Greek artisans. In the 15th century, a sable fur, large
precious stones and a cross-shaped top were added to the golden base. Despite the popular saying
“How heavy you are, Monomakh’s hat!”, the weight of the crown
is relatively small – 993 grams, twice less than the weight
of the Big Imperial Crown. In April of 1113,
Prince of Kiev Svyatopolk died. The residents of Kiev sent envoys
to Vladimir Monomakh asking him to come and rule. Monomakh refused at once: according to the custom, his cousins
had the preferential right to the throne. The following day, a rebellion
against the money lenders began in Kiev. Christianity prohibited
lending money in debts for interest, so the majority
of the money lenders were Jews. The main pretext for the first Jewish
pogrom in the Russian history was, however, not the money lenders’ faith
but very high interest that they were charging
for their financial operations. The Kiev money lenders
were providing loans on three types – for a month,
for a third of a year and for a year. The interest on the short-term loans
were the highest. If the loan exceeded an amount
of 3 Hryvnias in silver (around 200 grams), then the agreement had to be concluded
in the presence of witnesses. The money lender was getting
a payment called “rez” that amounted to 50% of the loaned amount. The interest on the loans weren’t regulated
and could reach three rezes, or 150% over the amount of the loan. A bankrupt debtor
had to be judged in court and could be not only deprived
of his property but also sold as a slave. And then the residents of Kiev
sent the second embassy that put an ultimatum
to the stubborn Prince: “If you don’t come,
know that much evil will happen. Not only the Jews will be robbed,
but your daughter-in-law too, and the nobles, and the monasteries,
and you’ll be responsible, prince”. On April 27, 1113 the entire Kiev came out to meet the great Prince
Vladimir Monomakh. First of all,
Prince stopped the rebellion. In Kiev,
a new financial order began to act – the Statute of Vladimir Monomakh that will become a part
of the Russian Truth code of laws. He set up a maximum interest on loans –
two rezes, or 100% of the debt. The debts on which three rezes had been
already paid, or 150% of the debt, were proclaimed
to be paid and cancelled, as well as the interest
on the loans of the merchants who lost their money for force-majeur
– robberies or shipwrecking. Vladimir, son of Vsevolod,
became the Prince of Kiev at 60. At those times, it was a very old age. His peers and friends
were dying one after another. His enemy and friend, restless Oleg Goreslavovitch,
died long ago. In the hot rocks of Palestine,
Princess Gita was sleeping with eternal sleep. His sons lefts to their lands. Only metropolitan Nikifor,
the same restless man as the Prince himself,
remained at his side. They were talking in Greek. The Prince was fluent
in that language since youth, and the metropolitan was a Greek
by birth and didn’t have time to learn any Russian
because of constant work. So, they had to translate the traditional
address of the metropolitan to the Prince written by Nikifor, from Greek –
for everybody to hear and understand. “What may one say to a Prince
who sleeps on barren earth, walks the forests on foot,
wears poor clothes and footwear, and runs on skies, and only puts Prince’s clothes
on when entering the city for the sake of the ruling affairs? We know that you cook good feasts
for the others, and you serve and work
with your own hands. When others eat and drink,
you sit and watch, eating and drinking just a little. You’ve never been hiding your treasures
or counting gold and silver, but you were handing everything out,
and are still doing the same”. Vladimir Monomakh
ruled in Kiev for 12 years. Not a single one was idled. He used different means
including dynastic marriages to unite the separate Russian princedoms and in essence restored the state
in the borders set by Yaroslav the Wise. Monomakh was building new cathedrals
in different lands, continued to give large amounts of money
to churches and monasteries – not only in Rus but beyond it too. Under him and probably
at his initiative a chronicle called the Tale of the Bygone Years
was written. The creation of chronicles in Rus
began in the 11th century. They were written by educated monks. In the beginning of the 12th century
Nestor, a monk of Kievo-Pechersk monastery collected the most ancient chronicles, added the description
of the more recent events and created a large-scare chronicle known today
as the Tale of the Bygone Years, the main document on the history
of the Ancient Russian state, the Rurik dynasty
and dissemination of Christianity in Rus. Monomakh was in his eighties, and he decided to see
his native Petreyaslavl one more time. On his way, at the Alta River, close to the church
of Holy Martyrs Boris and Gleb the old Prince felt that his earthly path
was coming to an end. He had time to reach the cathedral,
confess his sins and commune. He achieved his goals. He reconciled everybody;
he sorted everything out. On May 19, 1125, the great Prince Vladimir,
son of Vsevolod, died a peaceful death of a good Christian. “...those who hear my words,
don’t laugh at them. But those of my children who will like them,
take them into your heart. If you don’t like this instruction,
don’t laugh at it but say so: “He said a silly thing when going on
a long trip, sitting on the sledges...” After the death of Monomakh,
Rus didn’t divide into separate lands. His young son Prince Mstislav
nicknamed the Great held it tight. He was following his father’s instructions:
reconciled princes, widened the area of the state
and defended its borders. However, nobody managed to stop
the full disintegration of the state into separate independent princedoms, and after this death in 1132,
united Ancient Rus stopped existence. Vladimir Monomakh showed their descendants
a way to revive Rus as a united nation. On that path, not only political will but also a skill of
sacrificing one’s own benefits for the sake of a high goal was needed. He turned out to be the only person,
a talented war leader and politician, a gifted author and hard-working toiler,
who managed to accomplish that. That’s why many centuries later,
his name remains a symbol of power as a hard burden of responsibility
for the fates of millions of people. In the St. Sophia of Kiev Cathedral,
a graffiti engraved by Prince Vladimir, son of Vsevolod, baptized Vasiliy,
remained intact: “Lord, help Your slave Vasiliy, the sinner.
Help him, Lord”.
