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The Lighter Side
The Lighter Side
44 w

Florida Officer Rescues Dog Tied To Fence In Chest-High Water As Hurricane Closes In
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Florida Officer Rescues Dog Tied To Fence In Chest-High Water As Hurricane Closes In

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The Lighter Side
The Lighter Side
44 w

Pilot Buys Pizza For 150 Passengers After Emergency Landing Leads To 7-Hour Delay
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Pilot Buys Pizza For 150 Passengers After Emergency Landing Leads To 7-Hour Delay

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The Lighter Side
The Lighter Side
44 w

Coast Guard Rescues Man Found Clinging To Cooler After Hurricane Milton
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Coast Guard Rescues Man Found Clinging To Cooler After Hurricane Milton

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The Lighter Side
The Lighter Side
44 w

Over 135 Rescued From Tampa Assisted Living Facility After Unprecedented Hurricane Milton Flooding
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Over 135 Rescued From Tampa Assisted Living Facility After Unprecedented Hurricane Milton Flooding

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Fun Facts And Interesting Bits
Fun Facts And Interesting Bits
44 w

Favorite ’80s Costumes at HalloweenCostumes.com
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Favorite ’80s Costumes at HalloweenCostumes.com

Back in the ’80s, in order to go Trick or Treating as a pop culture character, you usually had to wear an uncomfortable Ben Cooper costume with the vinyl jumpsuit and plastic mask with tiny CONTINUE READING... The post Favorite ’80s Costumes at HalloweenCostumes.com appeared first on The Retro Network.
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Survival Prepper
Survival Prepper  
44 w

Dear Diary, It’s Me, Jessica: Part 20
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Dear Diary, It’s Me, Jessica: Part 20

Missed the other parts? Find them here: Check out Part 1 Part 2 is here. Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Dear Diary, It’s me, Jessica. We were in trouble and we knew it. Jack looked past the Northern barrier.  “He knows.  Everything.  Our defenses.  Layout.  Numbers.  Weapons.  The militia.  He knows.  Everything.” “Chicken and biscuits, Jack,” Rae sighed.  “Don’t you go on blaming yourself for something you had no control over.” “Aye, Jack.  Rae’s right.  No point in crying over spilled milk.  What do we do now?” Sean asked kindly. Jack continued to look to the North for several moments.  I was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable when Jack suddenly said, “He has the intelligence his spies provided.  He will be making a battle plan.  He will need time to implement it.  I will put a machine gun up on the hillside with some of our best marksmen on the hill overlooking the barrier where Jessica and I got blown up to prevent him from flanking us there.  We will bulk up that position as a defense.  We will have to reinforce the barrier.  He has something else in mind.”  Jack paused, still looking North.  “Whoever he is, he is very cunning and -” He cut the sentence off when we saw two riders approaching.  The reverend Ishmael was on horseback, as was the other man we saw with him the first time.  He carried a white flag as they rode up to the defensive trenches and stopped.  They waited. “Aye.  Let’s go see what they have to say.” “Jessica,” Jack said to me.  “I want you to come with.  Carry your rifle as I taught you, Mozambique carry.  Do not say anything but look them in the eyes at all times, as calm and neutral as you can.  I want them to see you.” “Okay,” I replied, not understanding, and followed Sean and Jack to the defensive trenches. “We are blessed with another glorious morning allowed by our good father in heaven, the almighty God,” Ishmael stated, Bible in hand held to his chest. He gave a slight bow. “Amen,” he and the other man said. “Good morning to you, Mayor Sean and friend Jack,” Ishmael said with a warm smile.   He ignored me. The other man gave me a once over but paused at my shouldered rifle.  He then looked me right in the eyes.  I just looked back.  He then looked away.   “Morning,” Sean said simply. Jack said nothing but gave a slight nod of his head.   “Gentlemen, I implore you in the good Lord’s name to submit to me and my congregation to forgive you for your sins and welcome us as your saviors.  To make you a part of something greater.  A strong community of God-fearing men and women!  Who will sing in His praises in His name!”  Ishmael raised his Bible to the sky with his eyes closed and said, “Amen!” The other man repeated, “Amen!” with closed eyes. Ishmael lowered his Bible to his chest, leaned forward in his saddle, and looked at Sean in a quiet but stern voice, “There needs to be no bloodshed.  We know of your defenses, your weapons, your militia.  Submit to me now, and no one needs to die needlessly.” “Reverend,” Sean said politely, “As I said before, many of us are simply not interested in your interpretation of the good book.  I am perfectly capable of delivering those from sin as you are for those who follow.”  Sean shrugged.  “Some do.  Some do not.  That is their choice.  It is not my place to pass judgment on anyone.  Nor is it yours.” Ishmael’s face flushed at Sean’s rebuke. “All are sinners!  All need to be forgiven!  All need to submit to His will!  To enter into His kingdom, they need to obey my word and the word of our Lord in heaven!  My Lord commands it!” “I know of your strength and weakness,” the other man said suddenly, looking directly at Jack.  “I will exploit your weakness to my advantage.  Surrender now.  Or I will raze this entire town of sinners like a scythe before wheat.” “Amen,” Ishmael cried, Bible upheld, eyes closed. Jack did not say anything for a long moment, looking directly back.  Then he gave an odd smile and said, “I look forward to meeting you on the battlefield.” The other man’s eyes narrowed.  He suddenly looked uncertain. The reverend looked at him concerned, then at Jack.  He then suddenly turned his horse and rode off, the other man following. “What was that about, Jack?” “An idea.” Entry two We spent the rest of the day fortifying the position on the hillside and the Northern barrier.   We could also hear the sounds of hammers and the ring of steel coming from the cult camp.  They were working on something.  Later in the afternoon, the hammering had stopped and we heard singing. “What are they singing,” I asked Rae. She paused, turning her head to one side to listen. “Hymns.  They are singing hymns.  They must be having a service before dinner.” I nodded but still did not understand.  It seemed odd to hold service and sing hymns before a battle. Rae must have seen the confusion on my face. She explained, “It gives people a sense of calm.  Being together, praying, and singing.  Supposedly, some warriors, even on the battle line just before the fighting would start, would sing a battle hymn together.  Gave them courage.” I nodded again, understanding better. Jack arrived a short time later and gave the order for every other person to get “chow” while the rest manned the barrier.  Once they were finished, they would return, and the other people would get their meals. Rae told me to go first with a nod and smile. “I will be back soon,” I assured her. “Don’t rush, honey.  It is not like we are going anywhere.” “Wolfing down your food will give you indigestion and give you weird dreams at night,” Jack added with one of his grins. “Okay,” I laughed as I stepped out of the van that made up part of the barrier. Rifle slung, pack on my back, I made my way toward Four Corners and South side to find a meal.  When there is a threat, and Four Corners’ own militia is “stood up,” as Jack would say, those manning the barrier or the gates, those expecting to fight during that time, do not have to trade for a meal.  But I always give what I had for a meal.  Most try to refuse, but I give them my best smile and slip them something.    I found the young couple and their two children with the outdoor cooking fires.  They had built something bigger than a shack that was common in Four Corners but not quite a small house.  They had seasoned beef, chicken, and venison skewers, grilling over a fire.  I took two of each and gave the young woman eight Halloween-sized candy bars from my pack.  Eyes wide, she started to refuse.  I just smiled and held up a hand.   “Please.  For your children.” There were several camp chairs and upturned logs for people to sit on one side of the cooking fires to eat.  I recognized a few, said “hello,” and began to eat.  The skewers were still hot enough that I could not “wolf” my food down.  I asked if anyone knew what the seasoning was, as I could not put my finger on it.  The young man tending the skewers and the cooking fires replied, “Mexican!” Someone commented on how they would kill for a proper burrito or taco.   Another yearned for a spicy fried chicken sandwich, with waffle fries and special sauce to dip them in. Others chimed in.   New York-style pizza. Chinese carry out. Crab cakes. I added, “Peanut Butter Waffle Cone ice cream.” I got several, “Ohhhhs!” Then several others shouted out flavors.  Some argued against a flavor.  Others defended.  We all laughed.   I then realized this was like the “gallows humor” some of the militia expressed before a fight.  We all shared a meal, shared common interests, and had a laugh.   And we weren’t thinking about the coming fight. Diary, now I understand. Entry three Just before nightfall, Jack assigned people to a two-hour “fire watch.”  After their watch, they would wake their replacement, and so on.  Everyone was to get as much sleep as they could.  He assigned himself to the last watch before sunrise.  I was assigned to the first watch.  After two hours, I would wake Rae.  Jack wanted me fresh at dawn.  I said I was not sure I could sleep.  He nodded and said,  “You will.” Jack was right. I awoke with a start as Jack gently shook my shoulder.  I nodded I was awake, stood up and hopped out of the van that was my “rack” for the night.  As I stretched my arms, back, and legs, I could see to the East. The sky was beginning to lighten, but there were still stars visible to the West.  Jack and the others had been busy during the night.  Two vehicles to the left of the one I was sleeping in had been removed and replaced with two wooden panels, each eight feet wide and eight feet tall.   Rae joined me a moment later, also stretching the kinks out of sleeping in the seat of a vehicle.   “What is that?” Rae asked, her arms stretched over her head. “No idea.” Rae then twisted to one side to stretch her lower back and asked, “Who are they?” Looking behind me, I responded again, “No idea,” prompting a giggle from Rae. I could see the forms of people sleeping on the ground on either side of the road behind the barrier.  Jack walked up.   “It is our militia.” “What?  How did-” Jack interrupted me, “I sent Mr. Miller and Billy to get them.  Not to send them East.  Had them arrive during the night so the cult would not see them.” “Chicken and biscuits, Jack!  You staged that whole thing for the kids to see!” Jack gave Rae a grin and winked.   As dawn broke on the Eastern horizon we saw the cultists had also been busy during the night.  Two wagons were out front of their line.  Jack, looking through binoculars, described what he saw. “Heavy wood construction.  The tops are boxes covered in plate steel.  The fronts are slanted at a forty-five-degree angle away from us.  There appears to be a hinged plate covering.  Firing slots.” He handed the binoculars to Sean, and said, “Mobile machine gun nests.” Sean looked through the binoculars and asked, “How many guns per wagon?” “At least one.  Perhaps two.  No more.  Small or medium machine guns will make things interesting.  A heavy machine gun, we are in trouble.” “Our machine gun on the hillside be of any use?” “If the whole wagon is covered in plate steel, not likely.  They won’t have a clear shot at the gunners inside, either.  To advance them toward us, they will need half a dozen men pushing those nests.  They will have to stay behind the wagons for cover.  Send a runner to our machine gunner and the marksmen on the hillside.  Tell them about the machine gun, short burst, and harassment fire to the rear and behind the wagons.  Keep those men out of the fight.  But husband their ammunition for the machine gun.  We don’t have a lot to waste.  If they or the marksmen can get a good, clean shot, take it. ” Sean turned to see who was available to act as runner. “Jessica. If you will be so kind.” “Jessica,” Jack turned and held out the binoculars to me.  “Take these do a once over and report back.  Stay low and out of sight.” “On it, Jack.” Diary, I don’t mind a hard hump or a run, but low crawling is just plain awful.   I returned fifteen minutes later to report, sweating and dirty, with scrapes and bruises on my elbows and knees I would have for the next few days. “Cooking fires going.  All their riding horses are saddled and have rifles on them, ready to ride, close to their wagons by the sides of the road.  The other horses still picketed.  I could see some movement between the wagons.  A few women and children are going between the cooking fires and the big tent.” “Should we fire on the tent,” Sean asked. “No.  We have limited ammunition.  With every shot taken, the machine guns come that much closer to becoming big heavy clubs.  I don’t want to hit women and children, either.  Unless they are shooting back.” “The horses?” “Dead horse is cover.  A panicked horse is live disaster for the rider or anyone in the immediate vicinity.” Jack paused. “I have something else in mind too.” About 1stMarineJarHead 1stMarineJarHead is not only a former Marine, but also a former EMT-B, Wilderness EMT (courtesy of NOLS), and volunteer firefighter. He currently resides in the great white (i.e. snowy) Northeast with his wife and dogs. He raises chickens, rabbits, goats, occasionally hogs, cows and sometimes ducks. He grows various veggies and has a weird fondness for rutabagas. He enjoys reading, writing, cooking from scratch, making charcuterie, target shooting, and is currently expanding his woodworking skills. The post Dear Diary, It’s Me, Jessica: Part 20 appeared first on The Organic Prepper.
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Hot Air Feed
Hot Air Feed
44 w

The Cost of Free Money
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The Cost of Free Money

The Cost of Free Money
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History Traveler
History Traveler
44 w

A Return from the Dead in Unstable 17th Century Russia?
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A Return from the Dead in Unstable 17th Century Russia?

Here is a fascinating history from early 17th century Russia, featuring somebody who apparently returned from the dead and a coup to take control of the country. This the story of Prince Dmitri. Lanny Cotton, who wrote the below for a podcast originally, explains. Ivan the Terrible. By Hans Weigel. Today, I would like to tell you a story. A story about a sinister conspiracy, a lost and noble prince, an evil tyrant, and a war over the soul of an empire. Or, more likely, a story about a crazed conspiracy theory, a deceitful imposter, an unfortunate monarch, and a chaotic civil war which brought death and destruction to said empire. Along the way we’ll play knife games with the boys, mutilate a poor, innocent church bell, and perform history’s first and only reverse sled-by shooting. I hope you enjoy the ride.PART ONEOur story begins with Ivan the Terrible, the first Tsar of Russia. Ivan is himself a fascinating figure, but here our story concerns itself with what happened after his death. Oh, and a side note: the epithet “the Terrible” is somewhat misleading. The Russian word “grozny” is translated into “terrible” in the sense of something “inspiring terror”, rather than being of low quality. It wasn’t a pleasant nickname, but it wasn’t an insult either, and it suited the paranoid Tsar who had thousands of his subjects murdered on the slightest provocations. Ivan’s first wife was a woman named Anastasia Romanovna, who he chose out of a lineup of a few hundred other eligible maidens. It seems that Anastasia and Ivan got along fairly well, and she managed to keep his more violent tendencies at bay. The couple had six children, four of which would die in infancy. This left Ivan with an heir and a spare, Prince Ivan Ivanovich and Prince Feodor. In the summer of 1560, Anastasia died of a sudden illness. Ivan was convinced that his beloved wife was poisoned and began a purge against the boyars, the Russian nobility, having many noblemen tortured and executed. Was this pure paranoia? In 2001, Anastasia’s body was examined by Russian scientists, who discovered a high buildup of mercury in her bones, a sign that the Tsar’s wife may have actually been poisoned. Ivan took at least five more wives after Anastasia, though there are later reports of another two which historians doubt. Technically, this was illegal under the rules of the Russian Orthodox Church, which only permitted three marriages in a lifetime. Ivan was Tsar, though, and didn’t have to care about the rules. The next two wives, Maria and Marfa, also died suddenly, kicking off another couple rounds of purges. The two after that, both named Anna, eventually bored their imperial husband and found themselves shipped off to nunneries. The sixth and final of Ivan’s canonical wives was named Maria Nagaya. Ivan and Maria didn’t get along well, and she almost got nunneried like the Annas, but then she got pregnant. Maria gave birth on October 19, 1582 to little Prince Dmitri, Ivan’s third son.So let’s talk about the sons. First is Prince Ivan Ivanovich. This Ivan seems to have been a good heir, intelligent and capable, and he might have made a good Tsar. But we’ll never know, because on November 15th, 1581, the two Ivans got into a heated argument which ended in the Tsar striking his son and heir with his scepter. The blow broke the prince’s skull and sent him into a coma. Four days later he died without waking up. This left Feodor as heir, which was problematic because Feodor was kind of useless. Feodor was weak and sickly since childhood, and while personally nice he never showed interest in rulership, preferring to spend his days in prayer and meditation. Some historians believe he may have suffered from some sort of learning disorder, in particular placing him somewhere on the autism spectrum, though we’ll never know for sure. When Ivan died in March of 1584, Feodor was crowned Tsar. However, Feodor didn’t actually reign. The responsibilities of government were turned over to a council of boyars, led by a man named Boris Godunov. The Godunov family was not powerful or influential, Boris had only gotten into the Muscovite court because his father-in-law was the head of the oprichnina, Ivan the Terrible’s infamous secret police.  Feodor was at this time 27 years old, though it was clear that he would never make a good Tsar, and that his regency would be in effect perpetual. And since Feodor didn’t have any children of his own, the technically illegitimate Dmitri stood to inherit the empire. This meant that he could pose a threat to Boris’ regency, should he grow up to be a better ruler than his half-brother. Shortly after Ivan’s death and Feodor’s ascension to the throne, Boris had the sixteen month old Dmitri and his mother Maria sent off to the town of Uglich on the Volga River. The young prince seemed to have suffered from epileptic seizures, but other than that was healthy. His hobbies are said to have included watching cows be slaughtered and beating chickens to death with sticks, which maybe aren’t the most wholesome activities for an eight year old, but who am I to say? He also seemed to have enjoyed a game which consisted of throwing a marlinspike into the ground. What happened next isn’t quite clear. On May 15th, 1591, the eight year old Dmitri was found dead of a neck wound. There are two theories about what happened. The official story, published soon after, was that Dmitri had a seizure while playing the game and ended up falling onto his marlinspike. This was the conclusion of an inquiry led by a boyar by the name of Vasily Shuisky. Remember that name. But the other theory was much sexier. This theory stated that Boris Godunov, the tsar in all but name, had murdered the rightful heir in order to seize the throne for himself. His death was rather convenient for the regent. Incidentally, Maria Nagaya was sent to a nunnery after all, once her son was dead.The church bell rang to signal the death of the prince. Can you imagine which of the two theories the people of Uglich believed first? That’s right, as soon as the bell rang they knew that their beloved prince had been murdered by the cruel tyrant in Moscow. And so they rioted, led by Boris’ political enemies. The citizens of Uglich did usual riot stuff, murdered tax collectors, burned buildings, stole stuff, the whole thing. Soldiers from Moscow soon arrived to put down the rioting, and many of those who took part were exiled to Siberia. One of these exiles was the bell which had begun the riot by announcing the prince’s death. In addition to being exiled, the bell had its “tongue” removed and was whipped through the streets. In 1892, three hundred years after its heinous crime, the bell was pardoned by Tsar Alexander III and allowed to return to Uglich. It was even given a new tongue. So Dmitri is dead. But his story isn’t over, it’s just beginning. Because in the years after his death, a third theory emerged. This theory stated that the prince was not, in fact, dead. He had been replaced by another poor child who died in his place, and was spirited away from Uglich just before the regent’s agents arrived to carry out their scheme. Tsar Feodor died in February of 1598, less than seven years after his brother. The incompetent tsar had only one child, a daughter who died in childhood four years earlier. Without a clear heir, Boris Godunov declared himself Tsar, breaking a dynastic line that had ruled Russia, according to legend, since the Viking chief Rurik of Novgorod seven hundred years earlier. Things went bad for Tsar Boris pretty quickly. The rumors of his role in the prince’s death had not gone away in the intervening years, if anything they had just spread further. The older and wealthier boyars, those that had survived Ivan’s purges at least, resented Boris for his low birth, which meant from the beginning he was surrounded by potential enemies. During Boris’ tenure as imperial regent he had strengthened the power of the aristocracy at the expense of the peasants, in 1592 ending the traditional practice of serfs being able to move freely for the two weeks surrounding St. George’s Day. Without this privilege serfs were effectively made a part of the land itself, to be bought and sold with the land they worked. This would long outlive Boris and remained law until the 19th century. This was done in a desperate attempt to reverse the economic downturn which plagued Russia during the regency. So Boris was unpopular with both the nobility and the peasantry. This would only get worse, because of events taking place on the other side of the planet, in Peru.PART TWOIn February of 1600, the volcano Huaynaputina, in modern day Peru, erupted. The eruption spewed thousands of tons of ash and debris into the atmosphere, where it partially blocked sunlight across the planet for years to come. Russia was among the hardest hit. 1601 was cold and wet, bad news for agriculture. Winter came early that year, ruining harvests across the empire. Food became scarce, prices skyrocketed, and the imperial treasury was stretched to breaking point. The result was perhaps the harshest famine in Russian history. It’s impossible to put an exact number on the death toll, but historians believe that about one third of the entire Russian population died during the next ten years, from starvation or disease or violence. The situation had spiraled far out of control, and the Tsar was powerless to stop it. What popular support he had dissolved. In the superstitious 17th century, this famine was taken as a sign of God’s wrath. A low-born had schemed his way to the throne by murdering Dmitri, the rightful heir, and possibly the pious Feodor as well. But if the tyrant was overthrown, who would replace him? Remember that third theory I mentioned? Well, in 1603 Dmitri returned from the dead. We still don’t know who exactly this man was, but he was about the same age and looked fairly similar to the dead prince, only a decade older. He first emerged in Poland, under the protection of a powerful Ukrainian nobleman by the name of Adam Vishnevetskii. Poland was the main rival of the Russian Empire, a powerful kingdom to the west. Unlike Russia, Poland had a weak ruler and a powerful aristocracy. The Sejm, the Polish parliament, could veto any of the king’s decisions. Unlike just about every other monarchy in Europe, the Polish monarchy was non-hereditary. When the King died, the next king was elected by the Sejm. The Polish nobility saw the weakness of Russia and supported Dmitri in order to further destabilize their mortal enemies. In October of 1604, Dmitri crossed the border at the front of a Polish army. Boris was unable to organize an effective defense. The Russian army was scattered and mostly under the control of local magnates, many of whom opposed the Godunov regime. The food shortages had hit the army hard, desertion was rampant as hungry soldiers left their posts to become bandits or just return home to protect their families. As word of Dmitri’s return spread across Russia, the peasantry rose in support of their true Tsar, the long-lost prince. Boris waged a war of propaganda against the Pretender, claiming to have “discovered” that his true name was Grigory Otrepev and that he was a disgraced former monk. Boris’ health continued to decline amidst famine and civil war, and in April of 1605 he suddenly died. He was succeeded by his son, the sixteen year old Feodor. Feodor II didn’t last long. Two months into his reign, the teenage Tsar was overthrown and assassinated by Dmitri’s supporters in Moscow. Dmitri himself showed up a few weeks later to enter the city, and was proclaimed Tsar Dmitri I. His “mother”, Maria Nagaya, was brought back from the nunnery and publicly acknowledged him as her lost son. For all intents and purposes, this rando was now the son of Ivan the Terrible and the true Tsar. The evidence? Trust me bro.Almost immediately Dmitri messed it up. His alliance with the hated Poles caught up to the Pretender, and rumors spread that he was a secret Catholic, bent on subverting the holy Orthodoxy and twisting Russia towards damnable Catholic heresy. Oh, and remember that name I told you to remember earlier? I’m sure you do, intelligent and wise listener. Vasily Shuisky, the man who had led the inquiry which concluded that Dmitri had died in an accident, changed his story once Dmitri arrived in Moscow. Now he backed Dmitri’s version of the story, admitting that he lied in his initial report due to pressure from Godunov. But Vasily personally hated the new Tsar. And his once messianic reputation among the peasantry began to fade as conditions failed to improve in the countryside. Not only that, but tensions began to grow between the citizens of Moscow and the new Polish arrivals, soldiers and noblemen supported by Dmitri. This situation was not eased when Dmitri announced his plan to marry a Polish woman, the daughter of one of the noblemen who supported his invasion. On the morning of May 17th, 1606, a week after the wedding and a year after his ascension to the throne, an angry mob stormed the palace. Dmitri tried to flee by jumping out a window and running along the rooftops to safety, but he slipped and fell, breaking his leg. The assassins found the Tsar in the alleyway and killed him, presumably telling him to stay dead this time. Dmitri’s body was stripped naked and dragged through the city, while Vasily Shuisky proclaimed him as a heretic and an imposter. His body was publicly displayed in Red Square for three days, before being loaded into a cannon and fired in the direction of Poland. Two days later, Vasily Shuisky proclaimed himself Tsar Vasily IV, ending the reign of False Dmitri… the First. That’s right, we’re not done yet.PART THREEWord of the coup spread through Russia, triggering a new wave of unrest and resentment. While the sheen had started to fade from the Pretender, he was still fairly popular in the provinces. Vasily worked out a pretty clever way to discount the legend of Dmitri’s survival. He sent agents to Uglich to dig up the prince’s body, and these agents “discovered” that the body was miraculously undecomposed. In Russian Orthodoxy, if a body fails to decay that means that the soul of its former inhabitant has ascended to Heaven and been made a saint. So the eight year old princeling who enjoyed torturing farmyard animals had been worthy of sainthood. He could not be on Earth, he had ascended to Heaven, and Vasily had proof. The prince’s coffin was taken from Uglich to Moscow in a grand procession. The coffin, however, was closed. It did smell nice, apparently. The sainted prince was taken to Archangel Cathedral in Moscow where his coffin was displayed for several days, until even incense could no longer cover up the smell. Then the body was quietly buried. The trick didn’t work. A new rumor emerged in Moscow. Not only did Dmitri survive the first assassination, he also survived the second one. The body dragged through the streets of Moscow and displayed in Red Square was another imposter, and the true Dmitri had escaped once more. The unrest that began with the assassination of Dmitri had by this time escalated into full scale rebellion in western and southern Russia. But these rebels didn’t have a claimant to the throne, so even if they overthrew the government in Moscow they would still struggle to find a Tsar. Into this scene comes a traveling beggar claiming to be Andrei Nagoy, a cousin of Prince/Tsar Dmitri, who claimed to have secret information on his cousin’s whereabouts. His true identity is still unknown, though tradition holds that he was either a priest’s servant banished after sleeping with the priest’s wife, or a Jew who had converted to Christianity to escape persecution. Either way, he was captured by the rebels in July of 1607 in order to reveal Dmitri’s whereabouts. Under threat of torture, this man revealed himself to be the missing prince, escaped from Moscow as he had with Uglich, returned once again to take his rightful throne. Upon this shocking declaration, the rebels pledged their allegiance to their Tsar once more, and suddenly the beggar had an army of thousands at his back. But this Tsar would never make it to Moscow. Like the first false Dmitri, Dmitri number two’s army had a large contingent of foreign mercenaries, largely Polish. But this Dmitri didn’t get along quite as well with the Polish nobility, which meant he lacked the funding to pay those mercenaries. Dmitri II made progress in his campaign northeast, but met with heavy resistance along the way, and his army was hemorrhaging men due to desertion from lack of pay. He received the endorsement of the first False Dmitri’s Polish wife, who recognized the pretender as her lost husband. In 1609, King Sigismund of Poland personally intervened in Russia, officially declaring war on the Moscow government and laying siege to the strategic city of Smolensk. His goal was to place his son, Vladislav, on the Russian throne, effectively making it his vassal. This was a complete disaster for Dmitri. His Polish soldiers preferred to fight on the side of their king rather than a Russian pretender, and those nobles that had supported Dmitri defected to the Polish side, declaring Vladislav the new Tsar instead of the pretender. Another faction defected from both sides. These were those patriotic boyars who opposed the Polish invasion on principle, and saw both Vladislav and Dmitri as foreign interlopers. Back in Moscow, the pro-Polish faction staged a coup against Tsar Vasily in July of 1610, forcing him to become a monk while they established a council of Seven Boyars, turning over control of the capital to the Polish army in September. False Dmitri II didn’t outlast his nemesis for long, though. Pushed back and weakened, Dmitri lashed out at his inner circle. On forged evidence he had one of his bodyguards, Peter Usanov, whipped and fired in December of 1610. The former bodyguard then went out and got drunk with his friends, wandering around the city. Then he stumbled upon his former boss on a sleighride, and being drunk and pissed off, pulled out his pistol and shot Dmitri to death. This is the end of False Dmitri II. Two down, one to go.It’s a cliche at this point that Russia is not a good place to invade, and by 1612 the war had started to go the other way. The Patriotic boyars, led by Dmitri Pozharsky, consolidated their power in what part of Russia remained free and negotiated an alliance with Sweden, then a major military power on the rise in central Europe. Incidentally, the king of Sweden was the uncle of the King of Poland. The Polish soldiers in Moscow were now essentially under siege, much of the city was controlled by rebels and their forces outside the city walls were constantly being raided.It’s about this time that Dmitri returns from the dead for the third, and final, time in the border city of Pskov. We don’t know a lot about this guy, just that he showed up in Pskov and said he was Dmitri. His support outside that city was limited to a handful of rebels sitting outside Moscow and harassing random Poles. The first False Dmitri was a big deal, the second was an occasion, but the third was just redundant. And besides, this Dmitri lacked the charisma of the first and the timing of the second and quickly wore out his welcome. He was overthrown by his subjects and turned over to Moscow, where he was executed in May of 1612. And so ends the time of the False Dmitris. Finally, on October 27th, 1612, Prozharsky retook Moscow from the Polish occupation force. The anniversary is still celebrated as National Unity Day. With the last pretender defeated and the capital liberated, the boyars assembled a grand council to decide, once and for all, who was going to be Tsar. They settled on the sixteen year old Michael Romanov, the son of the Patriarch of Moscow and the great-nephew of Anastasia Romanovna, Ivan the Terrible’s beloved first wife. Despite his young age, Michael managed to hold onto power until his death thirty-two years later, kicked the Poles out of Russia, and established a dynasty which would rule Russia until the Russian Revolution in 1917. The period between the death of Feodor I and the ascension of Michael I is known in Russia as the “Time of Troubles”. In fifteen years over one third of the population of Russia had died, the empire had been torn apart by famine and civil war, and central authority had completely collapsed. The Empire that arose from this chaos was more authoritarian than the one that had fallen. The vast majority of the population were serfs, in effect slaves tied to the land. After fifteen years of chaos the nobility accepted Tsarist autocracy as a restoration of proper order. The Tsar became a quasi-religious figure, chosen by God to guide Russia and prevent a second Time of Troubles. The legacy of this autocratic turn still lingers in Russia to this day. Find that piece of interest? If so, join us for free by clicking here.  ReferencesThe main source here is A Short History of Russia’s First Civil War: The Time of Troubles and the Founding of the Romanov Dynasty by Chester S.L. Dunning, if you want to know more go read it. It's a good book.
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