Dawn of the Russian Navy

Prior to 1696, it would have been an exaggeration to say that Russia had a fleet, let alone that she was a sea power. There was no regular navy with weaponry, no system of acquisition or staffing, military service, training, uniform, or centralized system of command and supplies.

However, the eastern Slavs had a millenium of maritime tradition. It began in the 5th century B.C. in the Black Sea and later spread to the Mediterranean, where Kievan ships sailed with the Byzantine fleet. Novgorod merchants and colonizers, meanwhile, reached Spitzbergen and other remote northern lands.

Setbacks like the Tatar yoke, which destroyed Russia’s shipbuilding industry, put the country behind naval powers like England and France, who were able, unlike Russia, to expand their territories without fear of attack. It was only with the appearance of a will to modernize and reform Russia and strengthen her international standing, in the person of Peter the Great, that Moscow began seriously to consider building a navy.

“Invaders came from the East, South and North,” explained Admiral Kasatonov, deputy commander-in-chief of the Russian navy and head of the Marine Historical-Cultural Center, “in this very specific situation it was difficult to create those state institutions which would have strengthened central power, and when the tsar’s power was strengthened, there appeared the organic need for further ties for Russia which would also have strengthened its statehood.”

Peter the Great’s love of boats stemmed not just from state interests, but began in childhood, when he found and restored a little old wooden boat on his father’s estate at Izmailovo. In 1688, already tsar, he built a flotilla on Pleshcheyevo Lake at Pereslavl-Zalessky, which became a kind of research center for the new navy.

Peter did not restrict himself simply to building a navy, however, but strove to instill a maritime spirit in the whole of society. Marine sports clubs were set up, and naval training courses introduced for nobles. Russia’s shipbuilding industry was relaunched in Arkhangelsk in 1694.

Perhaps most important of all, Peter made sure that this spirit entered the country’s cultural life, and nowhere more so than in its new capital and chief port, St. Petersburg.

Seamen were soon a substantial part of St. Petersburg society, and were gladly invited to court festivities. St. Petersburg quickly turned into a vital trading port on the Baltic and the main base of the navy. All these things formed in the public consciousness the image of the sailor as a defender of the fatherland and the navy as one of the main bulwarks of that defense.

Numerous decrees and rescripts by the tsar on the building of the fleet and formation of crews for its ships spread throughout the country the idea of serving and defending Russia on the sea.

In fact, in just a little over 20 years time, the navy developed to such an extent that it had a decisive effect in Russia’s Northern War with Sweden. This victory was to set the stage for Russia’s growing influence on European diplomacy and security.

Peter the Great personally saw to it that the idea of a victorious Russian fleet developed in people’s minds. He used every means imaginable to arouse an interest in and respect for the fleet, like saturating the book market with books about sailing.

Another characteristic of the Petrine era was the glorification of the fleet by the clergy in church. Feofan Prokopovich, a preacher and publicist enlisted by the tsar to articulate his reformist ideas, mentioned in only his second sermon the building of naval ships. His essay, A Word in Praise of the Russian Fleet (1720) is especially revealing. In it, the preacher lists with great enthusiasm the benefits which Russia would receive from the creation of a navy: “We stand over the water and watch as our guests sail to us, while we ourselves are not capable of this. It’s just like Tantalus in the fables standing in the water and yearning. And thus even our own sea is not ours.”

The image of the victorious fleet penetrated the theater of the day. In the play Russian Glory, written for the coronation of Peter’s wife, Catherine I (a year before his death), Neptune helps Russia create an ‘unprecedented fleet’, which ‘frightens everyone.’

The successful sailor became a literary hero of the Petrine era. In The Story of the Russian Sailor Vassily Koriotsky, the reader meets an ‘expert in the business of navigation:’ “...he knew everything there was to know on the science of sailing, on the seas, where islands, shelves, shoals, rapids, winds and heavenly planets were. And for his knowledge he was senior on ships, and was highly revered by all senior sailors...” The victorious sailor-hero became a model to be imitated.

The sea also made its way into poetry. In his Three-Language Primer, Fyodor Polikarpov compared the words of a fool to the sound of the sea.

Of course, literature, theater and religious sermons formed the opinions of mostly the higher echelons of St. Petersburg society. Naval dress, in particular sailor’s uniforms, became fashionable, and the city’s inhabitants imitated hardy sailors, subconsciously adopting their behavior, vocabulary and customs.

But a much greater change in the mentality of St. Petersburg society originated from the successes of the Russian fleet in the Northern War. After vanquishing the Swedes, the victorious navy returned to port to celebratory artillery salutes. Thousands of Petersburgers lined the Neva embankments to see the Russian and captured Swedish ships glide home. Special documents and engravings depicting the various sea battles were sent all over Russia.

Engravings by artists like Pikart and Schoenebeck infused the public consciousness with ecstatic images of the victories and of the new northern ‘Paradise,’ as people came to call St. Petersburg. In fact, all contemporary engravings of the city were filled with navy ships, reflecting joy that the city was rising proudly, where “ships cram in droves from all corners of the earth into her rich harbors...”

These engravings (of which there are about 100) decorated the tsar’s chambers and the homes of grandees. They were displayed in extravagant frames and loudly adorned with bright moire ribbons in crimson, azure and green, and thus could not fail to garner notice.

Alexander Pushkin was to later write that “Russia entered Europe like a ship entering the water to the sound of axes chopping and cannons firing...”

But Russia did not just enter Europe loudly — her navy enabled her to become one of Europe’s main powers. Henceforth, almost none of Europe’s problems were solved without at least Russia’s indirect participation. Whether it was the 150 year guarantee to the Kingdom of Denmark, Russia’s role in the many Balkan crises, or establishing a presence in North America, it all began in 1696, with the navy that Peter built.

Some material in this article and elsewhere in this issue comes from a Russian Life interview with Admiral Igor Kasatonov, 1991-2 Commander of the Black Sea Fleet, currently first deputy commander of the Russian navy and director of the Russian State Marine Historical-Cultural Center, the organization coordinating the celebrations of the 300th anniversary of the Russian navy.