Personal circumstances
A gifted and distinguished young man, having graduated from Moscow University, in 1821, he went to serve in a diplomatic mission in Munich through the patronage of a relative. He was appointed as an extraordinary attaché—a rather modest position, but not in some obscure provincial backwater.
Tyutchev wrote poetry in Russian but lived predominantly in French. He acquainted himself with the philosopher Schelling and the poet Heine, both residing in Munich. Most likely, it was from Schelling that he caught the bug of philosophizing, an activity not obliged to consider practical life circumstances. In this sense, his thought process was entirely German—abstract and conceptual.
Pure theorizing, as we will see, yielded paradoxical fruits for Tyutchev.
He also began a romance with the illegitimate daughter of the Prussian king, Friedrich Wilhelm III—Amalia Lerchenfeld. However, mutual sympathy proved insufficient. Amalia's relatives opposed the match, and she was married off to Baron Alexander Krüdener, a secretary in the Russian diplomatic mission.
In 1826, Tyutchev married Eleonora Peterson, a widow of a Russian diplomat and a native of Germany. They were married in both Lutheran and Orthodox churches. For him, she essentially renounced her three children, who were sent to her former husband's relatives in Petersburg.
With Eleonora, Tyutchev had three daughters and established a household with German orderliness. However, this did not prevent him from having a passionate affair with Baroness Ernestine von Pfeffel. Eleonora seemed not overly concerned about his feelings regarding this, nor about Ernestine's subsequent marriage.
The climax occurred in 1838 when the ship "Nikolai I," on which the Tyutchev family was sailing from St. Petersburg to Turin, caught fire and sank in the Baltic Sea. Everyone survived, but Eleonora soon died from a cold at the age of 37. It is said that Tyutchev was deeply saddened. According to legend, he spent a night by his late wife's grave and turned gray.
However, a year later, Tyutchev married the widowed Ernestine. They were married again in both Catholic and Orthodox churches. For Ernestine, Tyutchev gave up his diplomatic career and was dismissed from service due to an extended unauthorized absence related to the marriage. In Turin, he served briefly and returned to Munich as a private individual. They lived on Ernestine's means, and Tyutchev had another daughter and two sons from this marriage.
By today's standards, it's about time to apply for Bavarian citizenship for "Theodor" Tjutschew.
But in those blissful times, they were not bothered by such matters.
Several more years passed idly and creatively. During this time, Tyutchev's ideas matured.
Anti-Custine
Presumably, he was greatly upset by the literary sensation in Europe of that time—the book by Astolphe de Custine, "Russia in 1839." It presented Russian life and power in a highly unfavorable light.
In Russia, it caused such confusion that the authorities launched a whole counter-propaganda campaign. At the behest of the gendarmerie, several Russian authors published critical reviews of the book in France. They organized a well-coordinated outcry—perhaps well-paid as well. These reviews were, of course, intended for Europeans. To Russian readers, they remained unknown, and the book was smuggled into Russia. Some were fond of it, but preferred not to spread the word, while many in Petersburg and Moscow publicly criticized the author.
Tyutchev decided to respond in Munich.
He wrote (in French, of course) a letter to the editor of Allgemeine Zeitung in Augsburg, Gustav Kolb. The newspaper had a recognized reputation worldwide. However, Kolb, it seems, did not publish the letter from the Russian German. It was released anonymously as a separate edition. And not without reason.
In this letter, Tyutchev presented himself as an apologist for Russia and a critic of the West. Perhaps the German journalist was perplexed by such sharply expressed patriotic sentiments.
But Tyutchev's train of thought is characteristic. He begins with the thesis of the mutual complementarity of German states and Russia. Friendship, sincere agreement—that's the atmosphere of this closeness. Wise German rulers manage this friendship well. But it is hindered by fragile public opinion. It's time, Tyutchev hints, to give this opinion a different direction, to turn it towards sympathy for the eastern neighbor.
In alliance with Russia, the German states are strong. Without this alliance, they may suffer defeat from France, a dangerous western neighbor. Russia has already helped the German states establish the "historical legality" against revolution, against "political experiments." And is ready to continue doing so. But, in response, it hears only abuse in the German press. Not good.
In the service of the Tsar
Tyutchev emphasizes that he is writing the letter strictly as a private individual. However, not long before that, he had met with the all-powerful chief of the Third Department of His Imperial Majesty's Own Chancellery, Benckendorff, at his estate near Revel, now Tallinn. He secured at least the support of an influential courtier. It's not surprising that Tyutchev's brochure with the letter to Kolb quickly reached the desk of Nicholas I. Tyutchev soon writes to his parents that the emperor "found in it all his thoughts and seemed to inquire about the author..."
It was time to return to Russia. Tyutchev, with his entire family, returned to his homeland.
However, the homeland itself did not particularly attract him. Rather, it was the career and political utopia of Russia as an icy iceberg preventing European decay that appealed to him.
"So, here I am again, in these unwelcome, albeit native places" .
And he misses Germany:
"I remember the dear land to my heart..."
Ivan Aksakov, married to Tyutchev's daughter and becoming his first biographer, explained it this way:
"Love for the Russian people could not bear life with them face to face... Abroad, in the German or Italian distance, Russia appeared to Fyodor Ivanovich not in details and particulars but in its general significance... He continued to look at Russia both abroad and in Russia, without the need for closer contact with Russian reality".
But the career was progressing successfully. The strange extraordinary status was forgotten. Tyutchev re-entered the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, where he held the position of senior censor from 1848. He wrote treatises on the millennium-long state of Russia, surrounded by imperial glory and becoming an Orthodox stronghold.
In the "modern world," Tyutchev saw only two forces: revolutionary Europe and conservative Russia. He seemed to place little trust in the German states and suggested creating an alliance of Slavic-Orthodox states under the aegis of Russia. Then, pressuring Europe from the East, eradicating the seeds of revolutions, which, by the way, were quite apparent in the late 1840s.
And then came the Crimean War, and he no longer restrained himself (though this time in strictly personal correspondence with his wife, who was undergoing treatment in Germany, in French):
"It could have been foreseen long ago that this insane hatred – like a dog's hatred of a leash – the hatred that, for thirty years, with each passing year, intensified more and more, was kindled in the West against Russia, would one day break free from its chain. This moment has come. What was officially called Russia, whatever it did to avert its fatal fate: wiggled, bargained, hid its banner, even denied itself, nothing helped. The day came when it demanded an even brighter proof of its moderation, simply proposed suicide, renunciation of the very foundation of its existence, a solemn acknowledgment that it was nothing else in the world but a wild and outrageous phenomenon, as evil, requiring correction."
Tyutchev's career was not hindered by defeat in the war and the death of Nicholas I. In 1858, he was appointed to a responsible position: chairman of the foreign censorship committee. He remained in this position until his death. In 1865, Tyutchev was promoted to the rank of privy councillor. A general's position.
What's happening in Europe?
Europe constantly preoccupies him. Dying in agony, he inquires about the political situation in Europe until the very end.
The cause of his death was a stroke. In December 1872, he lost the freedom of movement in his left hand and almost lost his sight; his head was splitting. After a second stroke on May 11, Tyutchev remained unconscious for a long time. It seemed like he had died. However, he eventually came to and, in a barely audible voice, asked, "What are the latest political news?"
A stock market crisis was looming in Europe, and the Uzbeks had rebelled in Kokand.
After Tyutchev's death, it was revealed that, in addition to his well-known late romance with Elena Denisieva (the fruits of this love – a daughter and two sons), concurrently, he was in a secret alliance with the German Hortensia Lapp, whom he deliberately brought from Germany. She bore him two sons. It was to her that he bequeathed his pension.
Wounded self-esteem
Of course, if there hadn't been Custine at that time, there might not have been Tyutchev as the singer of the empire.
Tyutchev does not want and cannot fight the European way of life, European civilization. Mentally and in everyday life, he is more German. A contemporary speaks of him:
"A purebred product of Europeanism, without any stamp of nationality. In him, everything, down to the last joint and nerve, breathed the charm of non-Russian culture!"
The poverty of Russian life outside St. Petersburg repels him. "In Russia, it's the office and the barracks. Everything revolves around the whip and rank." He does not want to know anything about the Russian people from Kazan and Samara. Yet, he dreams of gaining state power (with the participation of "Slavic brothers" and German cousins) and establishing unwavering tranquility in Europe (and in the world as a whole) under the aegis of the Russian tsar. Although he himself is not very confident in the prospects of Russia as a state – and he was not mistaken in this.
Two hundred years later, his splendid eccentricity sometimes seems too relevant. But we love Tyutchev not for this. We love him for his poems, in which the drama of a man who has lost his light faith and remained alone with an empty and cold universe unfolds. And here come bad news from Europe, plotting against the Northern Empire. The night of the Russian Rome is approaching.
He died 150 years ago. The scenery has changed. New Russian fantasists prophesy about state greatness.
Have a beautiful day...#Silentium! #FyodorTyutchev pic.twitter.com/epbjKN9OYB
— Anthony Hopkins (@AnthonyHopkins) May 24, 2019
Related topics:
Tyutchev's appreciation for German culture was evident even in his marriage, as he established a household with "German orderliness."
Moreover, Tyutchev's response to the literary sensation in Europe, Astolphe de Custine's "Russia in 1839," was deeply influenced by his understanding and appreciation of German states and their relationship with Russia. His letter to Gustav Kolb, an Augsburg newspaper editor, was a defense of Russian culture against Custine's harsh criticisms, demonstrating Tyutchev's strong connection to both Russia and Germany.
