journey to Moscow in 1663-64 was no joke. Lord Carlisle, who was
accompanied by his wife and eldest son, although ready to start from
Archangel by the end of September, was doomed to spend both the 5th of
November and Christmas Day in the gloomy town of Vologda, which they had
reached, travelling by water, on the 17th of October. Some of this time
was spent in quarrelling as to who was to supply the sledges that were
required to convey the ambassador and all his _impedimenta_ along the
now ice-bound roads to Moscow. It was one of Marvell's many duties to
remonstrate with the authorities for their cruel and disrespectful
indifference; he did so with great freedom, but with no effect, and at
last the ambassador was obliged to hire two hundred sledges at his own
charges. Sixty he sent on ahead, following with one hundred and forty on
the 15th of January 1664. It was an intensely cold journey, and the
accommodation at night, with one happy exception, proved quite infamous.
On the 3rd of February Lord Carlisle and his _cortege_ found themselves
five versts from Moscow. The 5th of February was fixed for their entry
into the city in all their finery. They were ready on the morning of
that day, awaiting the arrival of the Tsar's escort, but it never came.
Lord Carlisle had sent his cooks on to Moscow to prepare the dinner he
expected to eat in his city-quarters. Nightfall approached, and it was
not till "half an hour before night" that the belated messengers
arrived, full of excuses. The ambassador was hungry, cold, and furious,
nor did his anger abate when told he was not to be allowed to enter
Moscow that night, as the Tsar and his ladies were very anxious to
enjoy the spectacle. The return of the cooks from Moscow and the
preparation of dinner, though a mitigation, was no cure for wounded
pride, and Lord Carlisle, calling Marvell to his side, and with his
assistance, concocted a letter in Latin to the Tsar, complaining
bitterly of their ill-treatment _inter fumosi gurgustii sordes et
angustias sine cibo aut potu_, and going so far as to assert that had
anything of the kind happened in England to a foreign ambassador, the
King of England would never have rested until the offence had been
atoned for with the blood of the criminals. When, some forty years
afterwards, Peter the Great asked Queen Anne to chop off the heads of
the rude men who had arrested his ambassador for debt, he had, perhaps,
Marvell's letter before him.

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