The story is that upon arriving once at the domain of a _boyar_ named
Kutchko, he caused him for some offense to be put to death; then, as he
looked out upon the river Moskwa from the height where now stands the
Kremlin, so pleased was he with the outlook that he then and there
planted the nucleus of a town. Whether the death of the _boyar_ or the
purpose of appropriating the domain came first, is not stated; but upon
the soil freshly sprinkled with human blood arose _Moscow_.

The town was of so little importance that its destruction by the Tatars
in 1238 was unobserved. In 1260, when Alexander Nevski died, Moscow,
with a few villages, was given as a small appanage or portion to his
son Daniel. Nevski, it must be remembered, was a direct descendant of
Monomakh, and of George Dolgoruki, the founder of Moscow. So the first
Prince of Moscow was of this illustrious line, a line which has
remained unbroken until the present time.

When Daniel commenced to reign over what was probably the most obscure
and insignificant principality in all Russia, it was surrounded by old
and powerful states, in perpetual struggle with each other. The
Lithuanian conquest was pressing in from the West and assuming large
proportions; while embracing the whole agitated surface was the odious
enslavement to the Mongols and their oft-recurring invasions to enforce
their insolent demands.

The building of the Russian Empire was not a dainty task! It was not
to be performed by delicate instruments and gentle hands. It needed
brutal measures and unpitying hearts. Nor could brute force and
cruelty do it alone; it required the subtler forces of mind--cold,
calculating policies, patience, and craft of a subtle sort. The
Princes of Russia had long been observant pupils, first at