Who was the first Khlyn?

FOREWORD
By the Author

"The body is mortal, the soul is eternal — but Memory is the bridge between them."

In a world increasingly disconnected from its roots, many people live as mankurts — beings stripped of their history, drifting through a globalized landscape without a compass. For a long time, the history of the Khlynin-Khlynov lineage was like a puzzle scattered across centuries of war, fire, and political upheaval. But as I opened my father's rusty-brown suitcase filled with old photographs, I realized that I wasn't just looking at pictures; I was looking at a map of a thousand-year journey.

This book is the result of years of "paper excavations." It is a journey that began in the modern Russian steppe and led me back to the 11th century — to the legendary city of Khlynov, the river-pirates of the North known as the Ushkuyniki, and the Varangian (Viking) Mayors of Great Novgorod.

Why does this matter today? History is not a collection of dates; it is a code written in our DNA. By discovering the origin of the Khlynin name — from the ancient Slavic õëûíü (khlyn — the surge of a flood) — I discovered a psychological blueprint: a spirit of independence, a refusal to submit to tyranny, and a drive to build a world where "Freedom from the sea" meets "Power from the land."

In these pages, you will find:

The Science of Blood: How DNA genealogy connects modern families to the Swedish Jarls and the Ilmen Slavs.

The Truth of the Prow: The story of the Ushkuy ship and why the Polar Bear is the guardian of our lineage.

The Shield of Memory: A reconstruction of the clan’s heraldry and the sacred icons that have protected us through plague and war.

I wrote this book not only for those who bear the name Khlynin or Khlynov, but for anyone who feels the "call of the blood." I invite you to sit at the table of history with your ancestors. Do not let them remain in the "hell of oblivion." When you restore the image of your forebears, you find your own place in the universe.

The Ancient War Cry: "Saryn na kichku!" Translated into modern English, it literally means: "Blondes to the prow!" Many have forgotten that this was the ancient battle cry of the Cossacks and Ushkuyniki. While often dismissed as "pirate slang," it carried a deeper meaning. Since the Khlynins and other Cossacks often liberated slaves from captured ships, the cry was an order: "Move the captives and the fair-haired (Saryn) Slavic brothers to the safety of the upper deck — surrender now, or be destroyed!" Let the light of the spirit rise to the deck!

Welcome to the journey.

Vladimir Angelblazer (Khlynin) 2026


*******
Who Was the First KHLYN?
(The Origins of the Khlynin Lineage)
by Vladmir Vassili Miroslav Nesdenich Angelblazer(Khlynin)
(translated from Russian original text)


       PART I: THE ANCHOR OF HISTORY


       CHAPTER 1: Who Was the First Khlyn?

My father, Vasily Ivanovich Khlynin, a mechanical engineer, did not possess the same storytelling flair as my mother, a teacher of Russian language. Nevertheless, as I rummaged through his rusty-brown suitcase filled with old photographs and documents, I managed to draw out comments and stories from him: where our clan began and why we carry such a rare surname.

Since childhood, the first thing I knew was: “We come from Cossack stock. Our relatives have lived since time immemorial on the Yaik, the Khopyor, the Volga, the Don, and the Kuban. The surname itself, however, came from a certain Khlyn from Veliky Novgorod.” My father also used to say that there was once a city named after our family — Khlynov — which was later renamed Kirov. He remembered the names of our kin; we even met some in Borisoglebsk, Volgograd, and Armavir. But I was a child then and didn’t memorize them all. At eleven, I entered the Moscow Military Music School and spent my life in cadet barracks, universities, and the army. I never returned to my father’s house for good.

Eventually, the time came when my own "archaeologists" — my sons Petya and Vasya — began digging through their grandfather’s suitcase, asking me the same questions I once asked my father. To my shame, I knew far less than my father did. I found myself setting aside many photos and documents for lack of information. But as the years passed, the desire to understand my roots grew stronger. Today, I have answers that go far deeper than those of my father or most other Khlynins.

By working with archival documents, ancient maps, and the research of anthropologists and linguists, I managed to plunge into the 11th century. I did not expect this at all. All historical roads led me back to the city of Khlynov.

       The Legend and the Dispute

In academic circles, there is still no consensus on when Khlynov was founded. Tensions rose when I opened a blog on the "Rodnaya Vyatka" (Native Vyatka) historical resource and posted the following:

"My friends! I am finishing my book, 'Heritage of the Ancestors: The Khlynin Ushkuyniki.' The city of Khlynov and the Khlynovitsa River were named after a specific historical figure — the Novgorod leader of the Ushkuyniki (river pirates), Boyar Khlyn. Period. 'Khlyn' is an ancient Slavic word, not Udmurt, Votian, or Turkic. Period."

Historians in the Vyatka region still "break spears" over these dates. Some rely on the Tale of the Land of Vyatka (late 17th century), which suggests the city was founded after 1181. Others cite chronicles from 1374 mentioning "ushkuyniki pirates" raiding the region. To end the debate, I needed to find the man himself—the original Khlyn.

       CHAPTER 2: The Discovery Miroshka "Khlyn"

My "paper excavations" led me to the leader of the Novgorod ushkuyniki. He was the Novgorod Boyar and Posadnik (Mayor) Miroshka (Miroslav Nesdenich) KHLYN (1151–1204).

Through excavations in Veliky Novgorod, many birch-bark manuscripts and seals belonging to the Gyuryatinich-Rogovich clan have been found. This was a powerful dynasty of Novgorod mayors that existed from ancient times until the Muscovite conquest. The first recorded mayor from this family was Gyuryata Rogovich (c. 1050–1110), and the last was Grigory Mikhailovich (1472).

Genealogists believe Gyuryata Rogovich was the great-grandson of Ragnvald Ulfsson the Old, a Swedish Jarl and relative of the Swedish Princess Ingegerd. In 1019, Ragnvald was appointed the governor (Jarl) of Ladoga. From this Varangian (Viking) bloodline came the boyar house of Gyuryata Rogovich.

The coat of arms of Old Ladoga (the ancient capital of Northern Rus) features the stooping falcon — the symbol of Rurik. Miroshka Nesdenich "Khlyn" was a descendant of this elite circle. Although modern historians call this branch the "Miroshkinichi," I found that the nickname Khlyn was the true progenitor of our name.

       The Origin of the Name

In the 12th century, during the spring, the Volkhov River would overflow, leaving behind khlyn — a deposit of sand on the flood meadows. My hypothesis is that the nickname "Khlyn" came from this natural phenomenon. Miroshka had to fight the spring khlyn on his fields, and as a young man on a river ship (ushkuy), he likely had to bail out the "encroaching" (nakhlynuvshaya) water. Thus, the name "Khlyn, Khlynic, Khlynin" was born.

In 1174, Miroshka and his brother Vnezda led a campaign of "boyar children" to the Vyatka lands. This was standard practice for young Varangian scions — going on expeditions to test their strength and open new lands. Miroshka returned from these "Veps and Votian lands" in 1181, having established the fortress of Khlynov. These exploits gave him the political weight to claim the mayoralty (Posadnichestvo) of Great Novgorod in 1189.

       CHAPTER 3: The Rise and Fall of the First Oligarchy

Miroshka was a brilliant diplomat. He negotiated treaties with German cities and the Gotland coast. However, his son, Dmitr Miroshkinich Khlyn, turned this influence into what we might call the first "family oligarchy." He introduced heavy financial burdens on the population to enrich his clan.

The people eventually revolted. In 1207, the citizens of Novgorod rose against the Khlynins. They burned the "Miroshkin" estates and seized their "Dmitr's boards" — essentially accounting ledgers that proved their massive financial abuses. The family was ruined and exiled.

Where did they flee? Most likely back to the lands they had conquered — to the fortress of Khlynov on the Vyatka. There, they built a "military republic" of independent river-warriors who remained thorns in the side of both Novgorod and Moscow for centuries.

       A Legacy of Dominance

The surname "Khlyn" eventually took on a pejorative meaning in folk dialects—meaning a rogue, a swindler, or a bold disturber of the peace. As the saying goes, "you can’t throw a word out of a song." Our ancestors belonged to the first "Novgorod oligarchs," a warrior caste of Cossack-ushkuyniki, and later, land-owning peasants.

To carry the name Khlynin means to possess a subconscious need to dominate — regardless of the odds. A conflict with a stronger opponent doesn't frighten us; it excites us. The "weight class" may change with age, but the priority remains: faster, higher, stronger.

Am I 100% certain we are the direct descendants of Miroshka Khlyn? In a world of 800-year-old birch bark and rewritten chronicles, absolute certainty is a rare thing. But this is my hypothesis — I feel it, and I know it. Our family myths, our DNA (linked to the "Ilmen Slavs" and "Old Scandinavian" markers), and the ancient chronicles all point to this truth.

From these brothers, the Khlynin name began. From them, the Vyatka was won, the fortress of Khlynov was built, and the Khlynovitsa River was named.

       The Diplomatic Legacy: The Treaty of 1189

Miroslav Nesdinich Khlyn’s authority as the Mayor (Posadnik) of Novgorod is immortalized in the Treaty of Novgorod with the Gothic Coast and German Cities (approx. 1189–1199). This document laid the foundation for international trade in Northern Rus.

"I, Prince Yaroslav Vladimirovich, having consulted with Posadnik Miroshka, and Tysyatsky (Thousand-man) Yakov, and all the people of Novgorod, have confirmed the old peace with the envoy Arbud, and all the sons of Germany, and the Goths, and the entire Latin nation..."

The treaty established rigorous laws:

Blood Money: If a Novgorod envoy or merchant was killed overseas (or a German in Novgorod), a fine of 20 silver grivnas for an envoy and 10 grivnas for a merchant was imposed.

Protection of Honor: A fine of 12 grivnas was set for binding a man without cause. Striking someone with a weapon or a club cost 6 grivnas.

Women’s Rights: Tearing a woman’s headdress (making her "bare-headed" in public) was a grave insult punishable by 6 grivnas.

       The "Birch Bark Archives": Voices from the Soil

The archaeological finds at the Trinity Excavation site in Novgorod brought Miroshka to life. Unlike the chronicles, which can be biased, the birch bark manuscripts are direct snapshots of his daily administrative and judicial life.

Birch Bark Manuscript No. 502:

"From Miroslav to Olisey Grechin. Gavko the Polotskian will come to you. Ask him where he is staying. If he saw how I arrested Ivan, present him before witnesses..."

Birch Bark Manuscript No. 603:

"From Smolig to Grechin and Miroslav. You both know that I did not win the lawsuit. The lawsuit is yours. Now my wife has paid the 20 grivnas that you promised to Prince Davyd."

These letters show Miroshka at the heart of the "Mixed Court" (Smestny Sud), a joint judicial body where the interests of the boyars, the church, and the prince intersected.

       The Fall of the Dynasty: "Dmitr's Boards"

While Miroslav was respected as a diplomat, his son Dmitr Miroshkinich Khlyn (Mayor from 1205–1207) pushed the family’s power too far. He transformed the office into a hereditary tool for enrichment. In 1207, the Great Prince Vsevolod "The Big Nest" exploited the people's anger, telling the Novgorodians: “Whoever is good to you, love them; the wicked, execute.”

The result was a violent uprising:

"The Novgorodians gathered a Veche (People's Assembly) against Posadnik Dmitr and his brothers, for they had ordered the taking of silver from the people... and they went to their estates to loot them, and they set fire to Miroshka’s house, and seized their property, and sold their villages and servants..."

The loot was so vast that it was distributed "by the tooth" — meaning every citizen of Novgorod received 3 silver grivnas from the family's seized assets.

The Accounting of Corruption: In 1208, a new prince was given "Dmitr’s Boards" (Dmitrovy Doski). These were essentially ledger books containing "innumerable" records of illegal taxes, fines, and debts owed to the Khlynin family. These boards are the first historical evidence of a systematic family oligarchy and its subsequent "audit" by the state.


       CHAPTER 4: The Republic of River Pirates (Ushkuyniki)

The chronicles state that in 1211, the entire Lyudin End (the district where the Khlynins lived) was leveled by a massive fire, destroying over 4,300 homes. The ruined family members were "hunted down and driven out of Novgorod."

They fled to the frontier they had conquered decades earlier — Vyatka. Separated from the strict laws of Novgorod and the Prince, they founded a "Self-Governing Republic." This territory became the legendary home of the Ushkuyniki of Khlynov — warriors who answered to no king.

This historical "stain" of being called "robbers" and "rogues" was, in reality, the political label given by the central authorities to the descendants of an elite family that refused to submit.

       The Genetic and Linguistic Signature of the Clan

Is it possible to establish a direct link between the modern Khlynins and Miroshka Khlyn with 100% certainty? In a world of 800-year-old birch bark and chronicles rewritten by victors, absolute historical proof is a rare gem. However, we have something more resilient than parchment: DNA.

My hypothesis — which I feel and "know" through years of immersion — is supported by three pillars of evidence:

1. The DNA Evidence: Viking and Ilmen Slavic Roots

Modern genetic testing of male Khlynin descendants (analyzing the Y-chromosome, which is passed unchanged from father to son) has revealed a distinct genetic profile. The results show markers characteristic of the "Ilmen Slavs" and "Ancient Scandinavian" (Viking) populations.

This aligns perfectly with the historical record of the Gyuryatinich-Rogovich clan. These were the "Varangian" elite — Swedish Jarls who integrated into the Novgorod boyar class. The presence of these markers in our blood today is a living bridge to the 11th-century "Norsemen" who founded the first Russian ruling dynasties.

2. Linguistic Archeology: The Meaning of "Khlyn"

As a researcher, I’ve had to fight the "political" interpretation of our name. Later historians, loyal to the Tsars or the Church, tried to define Khlyn as "thief" or "charlatan." But linguistics tells a different story.

Ancient Slavic Root: The word relates to the movement of water — khlyn (a flood, a surge). It describes the seasonal "alluvial deposits" left on meadows after a river recedes.

The Gait of the Horse: In old Russian, khlyn also referred to a specific, steady trot of a horse.

The Personality Trait: This name was likely given to Miroshka as a "middle name" or nickname, signifying someone who moves like a force of nature — unstoppable and surging forward.

3. The "Khlynov" Republic

The fact that a fortress was named Khlynov and a river Khlynovitsa is the ultimate toponymic proof. In those days, places weren't named by committee; they were named after the man who conquered or built them. The "Ushkuyniki of Khlynov" were not just random brigands; they were the exiled military elite of Novgorod who carried their leader's name to the frontier to build a new, independent world.

Conclusion: From "Mankurt" to Master of History

For us, the descendants, this story is a cautionary yet empowering tale. The Khlynins were the first "Novgorod Oligarchs" — men of immense talent, daring, and, occasionally, greed. They were warriors, merchants, and founders of cities.

The name Khlynin carries a psychological imprint: a need to dominate, a refusal to be intimidated by a stronger opponent, and a drive to go "faster, higher, stronger."

Finding these roots changes your consciousness. You are no longer a mankurt — a person without memory, drifting through a globalized world. You are a link in an 850-year-old chain.

Whether you are in Canada, Russia, or on the banks of the Volga, you carry the blood of the Novgorod mayors and the Vyatka river-pirates. Now that you are armed with this awareness, you are truly dangerous to those who wish to keep the people in ignorance.

       CHAPTER 5: Symbols and Heraldic Signs of the Khlynin Clan

Having synthesized the objective historical documents, artifacts, and oral traditions passed down through generations, and drawing upon my academic background and experience, I have reconstructed a symbolic identity for the descendants of the Khlynin-Khlynov lineage.

       The Historical Rarity of the Name

The surname Khlynin belongs to the most ancient stratum of family names, serving as a unique monument to Slavic onomastics. Unlike common Russian names like Ivanov or Petrov, Khlynin and Khlynov remain rare across Russia, the former Soviet states, and the world.

Surviving chronicles, tax records, and the censuses of Ivan the Terrible reveal that the bearers of this name were Boyars of Murom and Novgorod from the 13th to the 17th centuries. They held esteemed Tsarist privileges and became famously known as the Ushkuyniki (river-pirates/warriors) of the city of Khlynov. History has preserved names like Daniil Khlynin, a swordsman for Tsar Ivan III (1440–1505). Later, Khlynins served as hereditary Streltsy (musketeers) and landed Cossacks, settling in the Tula region, the Don, the Volga, and eventually the Kuban as the Tsardom expanded.

       The Dawn of Russian Surnames

It is a common misconception that all Russians had surnames early on. Surnames first appeared in the 13th century among citizens of Great Novgorod, whose lands stretched from the Baltic to the Urals. While peasants in Central Russia were only formally documented with surnames after the abolition of serfdom in 1861, the Khlynins — coming from the free northern lands and the Cossack estates — possessed their hereditary names for centuries.

Research into the documents of the Tula region (specifically the work of Esaul A.N. Lepekhin) reveals a census from 1571 in the town of Gremyachy:

"Landed Cossacks: Evsik Khlynin, his nephew Senka, Ivashka Khlynin, Kondrashka Khlynin, and Kiryushka Khlynin..."

These were "White-Landed" Cossacks (Belomestnye kazaki) — service-class warriors who held tax-exempt lands in exchange for guarding the southern frontiers. By the late 18th century, many were resettled "by lot" to the Caucasian Line, where the Khlynin name remains prominent in the Kuban Cossack heartlands today.

       The Symbolism of the Name

The name originated as a "secular" or "mirskoe" name — a pre-Christian tradition held sacred alongside baptismal names.

The "Flood" Hypothesis: The root khly; refers to the "surge" of a river or the sand deposits left on a meadow after a flood.

The "Pace" Hypothesis: In old Russian dialects, it also signified a khlyn — a gentle, steady trot of a horse. Thus, the original Khlyn was either a horseman who rode with a distinctive steady pace or a landowner whose fields were touched by the river's surge. Later, political rivals and official historians attempted to stain the name, associating it with "rogues" or "pirates," but for the clan, it signified authority and the spirit of an independent warrior (Ushkuynik).

       The Reconstruction of the Clan Heraldry

Since our lineage was often at odds with the centralized autocracy (the Romanov dynasty), the official heraldry of the Empire often ignored ancient Northern clans. We have reclaimed our right to a "Varangian Shield."

The Coat of Arms (Reconstruction)
Our reconstructed coat of arms is based on the iconography and military history of the lineage:

The Shield: A Varangian triangular shield with 12 curves, honoring the Gyuryatinich-Rogovich boyar line and their Norse (Swedish) DNA.

The Imagery: Against a golden field, a hand emerges from a celestial cloud (divine providence) holding a drawn bow with a red arrow.

The Cross: A scarlet (chervleny) cross in the upper corner symbolizes the adoption of Orthodoxy by our Viking-Ushkuyniki ancestors.

The Scales and the Letter "X": Below the bow lie the Scales of Justice above the Old Slavic letter "Rtsy" — X. In this context, "X" stands for "Spirit" (Dukh). As written in the Gospel of John (3:8): "The Spirit breathes where it wills."

The Guardians: The shield is flanked by the Archangels Michael and Gabriel, positioned as they are on the miraculous Icon of the Savior from Khlynov.

       The Clan Flag: Purple

The color of the Khlynin flag is Purple (Violet/Lilac). In heraldry, this signifies dignity and power. In Byzantine culture, purple was the color of the Divine and the Imperial — only the Basileus (Emperor) signed in purple ink. It represents the union of the Eternal (Blue) with the Earthly (Red).

       Totemic Animals

The Polar Bear (Ursus Marinus): Symbolizing our origins among the Novgorod Pomors and Vikings who adorned their longships (Drakkars) with the image of the white bear.

The Scythian Deer: A symbol of the South Russian steppe and the Don Cossacks. The deer pierced by an arrow represents the soul's intersection with Divine Providence.

       The Family Icons: The Savior of Khlynov

A stunning historical fact: Spasskaya Tower of the Moscow Kremlin (the main gate to the heart of Russia) was named in honor of the miraculous icon brought from Khlynov in 1647!

When a plague ravaged Moscow, the city of Khlynov remained untouched. Tsar Aleksey Mikhailovich ordered the city’s miraculous icon — The Savior Not Made by Hands — to be brought to the capital. When the icon reached the Frolovskie Gates of the Kremlin, the Tsar renamed them the Spasskie (Savior) Gates. To this day, the most famous tower in Russia bears the name of our ancestral city’s protector.

       The Scythian Deer and the Ushkuy Vessel

Another central totemic image is the Ushkuy — the legendary sailing and rowing vessel used in Rus from the 11th to the 15th centuries.

There are two theories regarding the origin of the name. One suggests it comes from the Oskuy River (a tributary of the Volkhov), where these boats were built. They were crafted in two variants: a river version (12–14 meters long, with a straight sail and open deck) and a sea version (with a lateen sail and holds at both ends). An Ushkuy could carry up to 30 warriors, using a stern oar instead of a rudder.

However, the linguist Max Vasmer proposed a more profound origin: the word comes from the Pomor term "Oshkuy", meaning Polar Bear. This is why the high prow of these ships was often adorned with a carved head of a white bear. For the Khlynin clan, the Ushkuy is not just a boat; it is a symbol of our ancestral connection to the Arctic seas and the daring spirit of the North.

[Image: A reconstruction of a 12th-century Ushkuy with a carved polar bear head]

       The Mottos of the Khlynin Clan

The heraldic research of the Khlynin lineage defines several key mottos that reflect our historical identity.

1. The Primary Motto: "Freedom from the sea – power from the land!" (Latin: Fiduciam super maria — potestatem in terra!) This motto perfectly encapsulates the dual nature of the clan: our ancient roots in Ushkuynic culture (the water element) and our Cossack heritage (the bond with the land).

2. "Strong in memory – powerful in lineage for the good of all!" (Latin: Memoria — potentem futura utilitatem) This speaks to the military and civil service of the Khlynin-Khlynov representatives who guard the borders of the Fatherland today.

3. "We accept the fight!" (Latin: Non accipies pugna) A testament to the clan's resilience and readiness to face any challenge.

3.1. The Ancient War Cry: "Saryn na kichku!" Translated into modern English, it literally means: "Blondes to the stern of the ship!" Many have forgotten that this was the ancient battle cry of the Cossacks and Ushkuyniki. While often dismissed as "pirate slang," it carried a deeper meaning. Since the Khlynins and other Cossacks often liberated slaves from captured ships, the cry meant: "Move the captives and the fair-haired [Slavic] brothers to the upper deck (the stern) for safety — surrender now, or be destroyed!" * Sary/Saryn — "fair-haired" or "the common folk."

Kichka — the upper deck or prow of the vessel.

       CHAPTER 6: THE SCIENCE OF BLOOD

       DNA Genealogy and the Ethnic Map of the Khlynins

What is the ethnic identity of those who bear the name Khlynin? In the past, we had to rely on folklore or linguistics. Today, thanks to the revolution in DNA genealogy, we can look directly into the "biological archives" of our cells.

As the author of this study, I have conducted the most extensive genetic testing currently available for both my paternal (Y-DNA) and maternal (mtDNA) lines. By analyzing the unbroken male line of the Khlynin name, we can finally map our place on the great tree of nations.

The Paternal Code: From "Russian Aryans" to Vikings

The paternal markers — passed from father to son for millennia — reveal a fascinating journey: R-M198; R-M417; R-Z282; R-CTS3402; R-YP1116.

On the global genetic map, these markers identify us as "Russian Aryans." More specifically, the Khlynin lineage now boasts its own distinct subclade: R-YP1112.

       Our genetic makeup is a sophisticated European cocktail:

54% West Slavic origin: Territories of modern-day Poland, Czechia, Slovakia, and Belarus.

33% East Slavic origin: Central and Southern Russia.

11% Baltic and Finno-Ugric origin: The "Varangian-Veps" roots of the Karelia region.

2% Anglo-Welsh-Scottish origin: A direct echo of Viking expeditions.

In short, it is 100% European. However, the Khlynin-Khlynov name is broad. Depending on where our ancestors served — as Boyar children, musketeers (Streltsy), or Cossacks — some branches may carry mutations from the Turkic (Bulgar), Buryat, Mordvin, or Caucasian peoples. Our ancestors were restless; they served from the peaks of the Elbrus to the Pamir Mountains, absorbing the history and perhaps the genes of the frontiers they guarded.

       The Silent Centuries: Paternal Cousins

While many modern Khlynins have yet to take a DNA test (a significant expense in Russia), my results have already "pulled" cousins from the depths of time. While I have no close matches within the last 300 years, I have found 3rd and 4th cousins at a distance of 500–600 years.

These distant relatives are 80% Russian, concentrated in Kursk, Tula, Ryazan, Orenburg, and along the Voronezh - Volgograd - Astrakhan line. The remaining percentages lead back to the ancient soil of Novgorod, Lithuania, Finland, and the Scandinavian peninsula (Sweden and Norway). My list of distant matches on FamilyTreeDNA now includes over 700 surnames, stretching back over a millennium.

       The Maternal Side: Princes and Visigoths

History is never one-sided. While this book focuses on the Khlynin lineage, the blood that flows in my veins — and the veins of my sons — is also shaped by my mother’s extraordinary heritage.

My mother’s father belonged to the house of von Bethes-Esterhazy. This line leads into a completely different, yet equally deep history: the legendary Esterhàzy family, the ancient rulers and magnates of Hungary, Prussia, and the Habsburg Empire. Her genetic map reaches into the lands of the Visigoths, Austria, and Croatia.

Furthermore, her direct maternal line (mtDNA) leads back to Sweden, Italy, and Greece. It is a fascinating paradox: while our female ancestors for generations considered themselves "Cossacks of long standing," their DNA whispers of Mediterranean shores and Viking hearths.

       A Living Chain

This "genetic cocktail" is what my sons, Vladimir, Pierre-Paul and Vasili, carry today. To describe the history of just one person’s full ancestry could fill a library. However, even this focused look back 850 to 1,000 years proves one thing: we are not "mankurts" (people without memory).

The privilege of a recorded pedigree, once reserved for the aristocracy, is now a right reclaimed through science. If you wish to preserve your lineage, you must record it today. Our parents are the living bridges to the past; once they depart, the gate to these memories closes forever.

       The Global Tree

In the 20th century, the era of high-speed travel changed everything. Khlynins and Khlynovs no longer reside only in the Russian heartland or Western Europe. We are now in China, Australia, North America, and South America. The branches of our tree are growing globally, planting roots in every continent.

      
       PART II: THE ECHO OF THE AGES
      
       CHAPTER 7: The Khlynins of Pervye Malye Alabukhi
       (The Senior Branch in the "Wild Field")

Searching for the roots and branches of a family tree across the mossy expanses of the Russian archival service is no easy task. The most accessible documents turned out to be the "Tax Declarations," known as Revision Lists (Revizskiye Skazki), for the Borisoglebsk District dated 1833 and 1834 (File No. 1151). Other invaluable aids were the metric books of the Archangel Michael Church in the village of Malye Alabukhi from 1803–1810 (Fund No. 1049, File No. 47) and even the 1917 voter lists for the Constituent Assembly.

These "documentary tools" are available today to anyone seeking their roots. In my research, I did not limit myself to the Khlynin name; I traced the connections between our kin and other villagers — who stood as godparents at baptisms, who attended funerals, and how families intertwined through marriage. Discovering which landlord owned the village where your ancestors lived also provides a fascinating lens through which to view Russian history.

       Seven Generations in the "Wild Field"

At least seven generations of my ancestors lived in the village of Malye Alabukhi. First mentioned during the reign of Peter the Great in the census of 1719, it was a "newly settled" outpost. As Russia's borders moved south, Borisoglebsk and its surrounding settlements lost their strategic military status as buffers against Kalmyk and Tatar raids.

Malye Alabukhi was likely founded around 1698 to guard against "restless Crimean and Nogai people" who would often raid these lands, taking servicemen and villagers into captivity. Peter the Great later turned this region into a naval depot for harvesting the famous Tellerman oak forests to build his Azov fleet, which spurred local industry and agriculture.

       Princes, Admirals, and "The Most Dangerous Woman in Russia"

Through the archives, I discovered that our village was owned by the powerful Kushelev-Bezborodko and Volkonsky families. Until 1834, the landlord was Admiral Grigory Kushelev, who effectively led the Russian Navy under Tsar Paul I. Later, the estate passed to his son, Alexander, who was married to Princess Alexandra Repnina-Volkonskaya.

In 1862, the estate was purchased by Prince Mikhail Volkonsky, the son of the famous Decembrist rebel Sergei Volkonsky. His wife, Princess Elizaveta Grigorievna Volkonskaya, was a remarkable figure. She was the first woman in Russian history to seriously engage in theological and historical scholarship. Her research into the "papal primacy" and the history of the early Church led her to convert to Catholicism in 1887—a bold and illegal act at the time.

The Procurator of the Holy Synod, Konstantin Pobedonostsev, famously called her "the most dangerous woman in Russia." Yet, Tsar Alexander III protected her, reportedly saying: "To me, she will always remain Orthodox."

       The Verdict of the "Society of Homeowners" (1880)

Genealogist Evgeny Pazhitnov uncovered a remarkable document from June 16, 1880: a formal "verdict" from the peasants of Malye Alabukhi expressing gratitude to Princess Volkonskaya for her financial aid following a devastating fire.

Among the 63 homeowners who signed this document was my ancestor: No. 25. Yakov Nikitin Khlynin. This document proves that by 1880, following the abolition of serfdom in 1861, our ancestors were "owner-peasants" (krestyane-sobstvenniki), taking full responsibility for their lands and community affairs.

       The Mystery of the Silver Seal

There is a "cherry on top" of this historical journey. In December 2022, I decided to investigate a family heirloom: a silver seal with a crystal handle. It was passed down from my grandfather, Ivan Maksimovich, to my father, Vasily, and finally to me. The seal had been closed by a soldered silver plate for over a hundred years.

I took it to a jeweler in Victoria, BC, who carefully removed the silver plating. Unfortunately, a century of oxidation and the soldering process had obscured the original engraving. I was heartbroken.

However, while writing this chapter, it dawned on me: could this be the very "official seal of the village elder" mentioned in the 1880 document? It is possible that after the elder, Stepan Kolchev, finished his term, or through family ties, the seal found its way to my grandfather. I will pass it to my sons; perhaps one day, modern technology will allow them to reveal the hidden image beneath the silver.

       The Tree Grows

Today, I know the names of my relatives in Malye Alabukhi back to the 8th generation (the 9th for my sons). Our branch likely stems from four brothers who settled there in the early 1700s: Petr, Vasily, Daniil, and Ivan. They were the pioneers, likely moving from Belev, Khlynino (Kursk), or Gremyachy (Tula) during the Petrine reforms to defend the New Russia.

The names of their sons and daughters read like a litany of Old Russia:

The Men: Semyon, Naum, Savva, Vladimir, Andrei, Alexei, Alexander, Gavriil, Dmitry, Nikolai, Maksim, Ivan, Egor, Nikita, Kalina, Fedor, Philip, Timofey, Pavel, Miroslav, Yuri, and Iakov.

The Women: Anastasia, Tatiana, Domna, Marfa, Darya, Maria, Praskovya, Agrafena, Natalya, Alexandra, Matrena, Vasilisa, Solomonida, and Fevronya.

By the mid-19th century, the Khlynins began moving toward the Volga, Tsaritsyn, and the Don and Kuban steppes. But their heart remained in the black earth of Malye Alabukhi — a place of "Large Perch" (Alabukha) and independent spirits.

      
       CHAPTER 8: ALABUSHKA
A Short Story by Vladimir Angelblazer

Bright rays of sunlight pierced through the floodplain "kokoshnik" of hazel and willow, entwined with garlands of wild hops, swaying merrily on the green petals of early June. This urema — the dense riverside thicket along the small and medium rivers of the Voronezh region — has preserved its virgin, almost primordial beauty in its best corners, despite the crowded villages, farmsteads, and small towns that line the banks of the Alabushka, the Vorona, and the Khopyor.

Summer. School holidays. A fair-haired boy of seven sat naked on a khlyn — a small sandy spit—gazing into the green-eyed Alabushka River. In his hands, he held a net made of wire and gauze, containing a freshly caught perch fry. Closely examining the fish, little Miroshka whispered inquisitively: "Alabushka, Alabushka! Where are your grandfathers? Who are your grandmothers?"

The bug-eyed, striped fry thrashed about, trying to use its tiny red "hand-fins" to spring back into the water. Without waiting for an answer, Miroshka lowered the net into the cool depths and patiently waited for a new inhabitant of the underwater kingdom to appear.

Miroshka loved spending his holidays with Grandma Ulya in Malye Alabukhi more than at the Pioneer camp in Borisoglebsk. There was more freedom here. Older brothers. Orchards and vegetable gardens where one could play the brigand until the first sting of nettles on one's backside. A world of adventure and the discovery of new flooded meadows, sandy ravines with the fossilized remains of ancient trees. Fishing, and hunting rats in the collective farm granaries. And in the evenings — the starry sky, campfires, and stories, stories, stories... Miroshka loved telling stories; they came to him naturally, of their own accord. He especially loved telling his peers about the stars, life on the Moon, and other universes.

During the summer, the population of Alabukhi at least doubled. Normally home to fifteen hundred souls, it swelled with children brought to stay with their grandparents. In the difficult years of revolution, civil strife, and the dekulakization that tore through the Cossack lands, Grandma Ulya alone gave life to twelve Khlynins. Not all survived. Those who remained were Domasha (Domna), Sankya (Alexander), Vovkya (Vladimir), Masha (Maria), Ganya (Agatha), Nastya (Anastasia), Vasyatkya (Vasily), and Tanyushka (Tatiana).

Alexander, Vladimir, and Maria returned from the Great Patriotic War alive—Glory to the Gods.

In the summer, Grandma Ulya ran her own large "kindergarten," overseen by Aunt Domasha. Domasha never managed to marry; the wars had scattered all her suitors. As the eldest daughter, she had practically raised her younger siblings, and later, she tended to the small children of her brothers and sisters during the summer months. For Miroshka, Domna Ivanovna became his godmother.

The settlements of Pervye and Vtorye Malye Alabukhi survive to this day. According to the 2010 census, 914 souls lived in the first, and 214 in the second. The Voronezh toponymist Valentin Prokhorov found documents from 1782 showing that Alabukhi already had its own church and had emerged no later than the mid-18th century. The village took its name from the Alabushka River, which means "perch" or "perch river," derived from the Turkic alabuga.

But whether the name is truly Turkic remains an open question. In many Turkic languages, Alabuga translates as "mottled bull." The city of Yelabuga (Alabuga) on the Kama River has existed since 1780. While the perch is indeed "mottled" with the stripes of a Ussuri tiger, could this little fish truly be a "mottled bull"? It is also strange that Alabukhi in the Tambov province appears in archives at almost the same time as the Bulgar settlement of Yelabuga. Among the long-time residents of the Alabukhi villages, no genetic traces of "Bulgar-Turks" have yet been established.

Questions, questions...

The little "Alabushka" fish swam away from the shore, flicked its tail, and vanished into the depths to find its grandfather and grandmother...

Miroshka stretched sweetly, warmed by the sun. A cuckoo counted out the hour of noon. It was time to head back to help with the chores — to scythe grass for the goats and pull weeds from the strawberry patch. His shorts and t-shirt were dry. Miroshka climbed under the frame of his Orlyonok bicycle and pedaled along the black earthen track, where plantains and burdocks smiled at his fly-bitten legs.

Grandmother had prepared fresh milk for her grandsons, with crunchy white bread straight from the oven. It was the most delicious food in the world! Miroshka did not yet know of the existence of "French brioche" or coffee.

It was the summer of 1969. Pervye Milye Alabukhi. Gribanovka.
      

       CHAPTER 9: THE SAGA OF SKAGUL TOSTE THE VIKING

When Miroshka furiously hacked at the hated nettles with a stick, advancing along the wattle fence, he imagined himself a Cossack. He struck from right to left and left to right, cutting "down to the saddle" at the very root, raising clouds of dust with the tip of his imaginary saber. The nettles did not surrender; they stung back. They stood taller than the little Cossack and fell, severed, right onto his head. The sweaty boy paid no mind to the blisters blooming on his arms, legs, and neck. Was he lost in the fray, or simply enduring?

Miroslav had no idea that through his veins flowed not only the blood of the ushkuynik and the Don Cossack "Khlyn," but also that of Skagul Toste (c. 975 AD), the great-grandfather of the King of Sweden and founder of the Stenkil dynasty. This sea-wanderer was the father of Jarl Ulf Tostesson and the grandfather of the Jarl and Mayor of Ladoga, Ragnvald Ulfsson the Old (1019–1045). Did his descendants migrate, or perhaps return, to Rus?

The Fagrskinna (or "Fair Skin") is an Old Norse saga detailing the 11th-century history of Norway. It became a primary source for Snorri Sturluson’s (1178–1241) monumental collection of sagas known as the Heimskringla—the "Circle of the World." This work introduces the history of nations and kings from Byzantium and Ancient Rus to England. Naturally, the protagonists are the Vikings—conquerors of seas, discoverers of continents, traders, and raiders. For in those days, who didn't raid? It was the language of trade and violence, of slavery and love. The drakkar, the ushkuy, the galley, the oar, and the Damascus steel sword. Routsi. Rus. Rowers. Varangians. Rus.

The Riddle of the Northmen
 
Archaeologists say the first human settlements in Westrogothia (V;sterg;tland) appeared around the 8th century BC. Back then, there was no Sweden, no Gothenburg port, no SAAB factory in Trollh;ttan, and no Volvo plant in Sk;vde.

The 4th to 7th centuries AD were marked by the "Great Migration of Peoples" under the pressure of Huns from Eastern Siberia and Vikings, known in Latin sources as "Normans" and in Russian chronicles as "Varangians." Who were these Vikings really? The scientific debates never cease. Yet, the Laurentian Codex (1377) states: "Those Varangians were called Rus, just as others are called Swedes, others Normans and Angles, and others Gotlanders—and so were these."

The ethnic diversity of the Vikings is now a recognized fact. The "Baltic Slavs"—specifically the Wends, Wagrians, Rani, and Estonians—frequently visited Denmark, Sweden, and England on retaliatory raiding missions. They, too, are mentioned in the sagas as Vikings. The Franks called all northerners "Normans," including the Slavs, Rus, Finns, and others, not just Scandinavians.

Thor Heyerdahl once noted: "The 13th-century historian Snorri reports that on the banks of the Tanais (Don) River live people called 'Ases,' and they have a temple called a 'hof.' The god Odin is the chieftain of the Ases. I looked at the map and saw the city of Azov on the left bank of the Don. A chain formed: As-hof—Azov! It means Odin came from the Don!"

"Russians Do Not Surrender!"

Miroshka could almost hear the clang of swords and the creak of wooden hulls as Vikings and Cossacks set off on their great expeditions for "zipuns" (spoils). The dust from his stick rose higher and higher, and Bor'ka the goat bolted in terror to the back of the yard, losing his chance to chew on the fresh nettles.

"Saryn na kichku!" the boy shouted fiercely. "Bee-ee-ee!" came the insulting reply from the bushes.

Having successfully cleared the "Tellerman hazel" fence of nettles, a proud Miroshka headed behind the house to the "crane" well to drink some ice-cold, sweet water. He was met by two older cousins emerging from the cherry orchard—blue-eyed Sanya Latyshev and eagle-nosed Kolya Rastyapin, the eldest of the brood. Their smug faces and purple-red fingers revealed that the ripe cherries hadn't stayed on the branches for long. Locusts.

Suddenly, the gate behind Miroshka slammed shut. He felt it in his spine: Grandma Ulya had taken her position with her walking stick. Usually unable to see "two or three fingers" in front of her face, she possessed sniper-like vision at long distances.

Shading her eyes like the hero Ilya Muromets, Ulyana "fired" loudly: "Kolka! Sanka! What are you doing? Them cherries ain't even ripe! You just idlin' about? Go catch some crayfish with the nets for supper instead!"

Caught red-handed, the boys froze. From behind the bushes, the mischievous faces of Tanyushka, Lenka, and Mishka peeked out, similarly smeared with cherry juice. Suddenly, Miroshka, finally feeling the full sting of the nettles, began to jump and cry wildly. His skin was on fire. Kolya, realizing what was happening, hauled a full bucket from the creaking well and doused the "Gypsy dancer" with water. The folk remedy worked; the itching began to fade. The Healer. They waited to see what would happen next.

Miroshka’s suffering reconciled the grandmother with the "looters" of her famous "Vladimir cherries." For generations before the revolution, the Khlynins had supplied berries and fruit to the Tsar’s table—long before Princess Elizaveta Volkonskaya bought the estate in 1862. The eighty-year-old grandmother was kind and quick to forgive. Grandchildren were, after all, the continuation of the lineage.

The barefoot pack, led by Kolya and Sanya, headed off to the "Koster" swimming hole, bringing the nets and a hemp sack for crayfish. Sharik the dog broke loose from his tether with a loud bark. Woof! Hurrah! Another adventure!

As the sun began to set, the Khlynin family gathered around a round table, much like the ancient Viking clans of old. They raised their glasses to their ancestors and the legacy left behind. And from the Hall of Eternity, with a loving gaze, the Viking Skagul Toste—sitting at the round table of Valhalla with his brothers and Odin—watched over his distant descendants.

"Skol! Routsi! Skol!"

       CHAPTER 10: THE SPLINTERS OF THE "KIROV FOREST" IN KHLYNOV
       (A Reflection: Why is the Name Khlynov Still Erased?)

Miroshka Nesdinich, with the stubbornness inherent in his patronymic Nesda (the Unyielding), continued to answer comments on his article on the historical portal Rodnaya Vyatka. Born in Great Novgorod, having founded Khlynov with a gang of ushkuyniki in 1181 and lived through his descendants into the 21st century, he found it astonishing that the web of lies and betrayal woven in the struggle for power was still alive among the Russian people.

"The truth cannot be hidden forever!" he thought. Where is the People’s Veche (Assembly), the boyar councils, the Cossack freedom? Why has all this been stolen and replaced by a "circular debt of slavery" instead of a "circular debt of dignity"?

The legal concept of "correal obligation" — where several persons are each responsible for the same debt — entered Russian Law (Russkaya Pravda) from Roman Law. Its first practitioner was our great-grandfather, Oleg the Seer, who demanded tribute from Byzantium. But the Eastern Roman Empire (the Greeks) deceived us. The Byzantine state launched its tentacles of political and religious leprosy into the soul of the Russian people, moving from Oleg to Vladimir the Baptizer, and eventually to Ivan III and Ivan IV (the "Terrible"). This Byzantine virus struck the very heart of the Russian mind, raising some "from rags to riches" while casting others into the chains of serfdom.

The clan of the Moscow boyar Andrei "The Mare" (Kobyla), which gave rise to the Romanovs, succeeded in planting this Eastern Roman model through famine and the "Time of Troubles" (1598–1618). Step by step, they surrendered Russian customs to the "cunning Greeks" and later to the "Anglo-Saxon Germans."

       The Holstein-Gottorp Colonization

By the time of the later "Russian" Tsars, the bloodline had completely changed. Emperor Alexander II, for instance, was paternally descended from Charles Peter Ulrich of Schleswig-Holstein-Gottorp (the murdered Peter III). His maternal line led to Prussian grandfathers and Mecklenburg-Strelitz grandmothers.

Peter the Great himself — whose true origins are clouded in doubt — left Russia a legacy in the form of Catherine I (born Marta Skavronska), a common servant who took a Russian name. Peter’s legitimate wife, Evdokia Lopukhina, descended from the Circassian princely house of Rededya, was the last truly Russian (not foreign) spouse on the throne. She ended her days in a convent, discarded and replaced.

Miroshka watched the raindrops snake down the glass of his living room. It was mid-October on Buyan Island — the time of the frequent tears of the clouds. In the three years of his publications, he had seen how "someone" had actively erased and rewritten the history of Khlynov on the internet, including the official Wikipedia pages for the city of Kirov.

Independent research leads to one conclusion: the city of Khlynov and the Khlynovitsa River were the original names. Later, after the civil war known as the "Pugachev Rebellion," Sophia of Anhalt-Zerbst (known as Catherine the Great) continued the German colonization. She wiped out the "incorrect" Russian history—from the perspective of German historians like M;ller and Schl;zer—even in the names of rivers and towns. While writing letters to the French philosopher Voltaire, the Empress oversaw the enslavement of nations and the "liberties" of the court. Her Generalissimo, Alexander Suvorov, crushed uprisings across the empire. Suvorov himself noted his Swedish origins: his ancestors "Juda and Suvor" arrived from Sweden in 1622.

       The Erasing of Names

The Europeanization of ancient Rus was reflected in the replanning and renaming of cities. In 1780, Catherine II turned the multi-ethnic Khlynov into Vyatka, turning it into a place of exile for anti-monarchical freethinkers like Alexander Herzen and the mason-architect Vitberg.

The Romanovs hid the true, non-foreign face of history to hold power. It is no surprise that the Bolsheviks did the same, renaming "Romanov Vyatka" to Kirov. Why was the city not returned to its original name, Khlynov, after the Revolution? Because the name "Khlynov" was tied to the ushkuyniki and the Cossacks — a spirit of independence that did not fit the ideology of the Bolsheviks, who had declared "Red Terror" against the Cossacks.

The ushkuyniki of Khlynov had caused more trouble for the Grand Princes and the Golden Horde than Pugachev ever did, and for centuries! Ivan III, who began the Greco-Roman occupation after marrying Sophia Palaiologina, finally destroyed the "parliamentarism" of Novgorod and Khlynov in 1489. But it was Catherine II who executed the final blow by erasing the name from the maps. The "German Romanovs" colonized Russia and implemented the religious-philosophical idea of the "Third Rome," which brought only the stripping of titles and serfdom to the common people.

       The Return of the Icon

Miroshka is no "conspiracy theorist," though he has witnessed many conspiracies over a thousand years. He remembers the death of parents, sons, and brothers. For him, the past and present are a singular, factual reality. The giant fir trees cut by the Novgorod ushkuyniki were washed ashore to become the fortress of Khlynov.

Eight hundred years later, not a splinter remains — the "new nobility" is rewriting history again, grasping for power in Moscow from the offices of "Kirovles." But Miroshka knows that the "Old Believer" icon, The Savior Not Made by Hands, brought from Khlynov, has not yet been returned to its rightful place on the inner side of the Spasskaya Tower of the Moscow Kremlin...

Sitting at his desk, he saw a double rainbow illuminate the leaden sky, sowing hope for fair weather by evening. There is no sadness for the rainy day that has passed. Morning follows the night. Life must be conscious. Notice the essential; discard the trivial.

Recorded while looking at the yellowed Cathedral codes, monastery tales, and birch-bark notes — the myths and legends that accidentally or intentionally survived in the river of history.

Buyan Island, the Kingdom of Tsar Saltan. October 24, 2020, 2:00 AM Pacific Time.    
      
       CHAPTER 11: "WATCH IT!"
       (Smotri u Menya!)

After his shift at the "Barrikady" plant, Vassili Ivanovich would return home to the Angarsky district. He walked in a worn grey suit, brown sandals, and a white shirt with a collar faded from sweat and constant washing. In his hand, he carried a string bag containing a loaf of bread as dark as his old shoes.

Returning to his second-floor apartment in a red-brick house — built by the very Nazi prisoners of war who had leveled Stalingrad to its foundations — he would shed his jacket and "grow" into an old naval striped telnyashka. Then, he would descend into the ravine behind the house. Peasant hands had transformed this "no man's land" into a blooming garden of apple and cherry trees. Each resident had their own plot, tending to it as if it were their own sacred soil.

Vassili Ivanovich loved spending long summer evenings there. He built a rabbit hutch, which required constant cleaning and sacks of waste to be hauled away. He gathered feed with a scythe from the empty lots and roadsides. The cherry and apricot trees bore heavy fruit, fed by the sultry, sun-drenched soil of Volgograd.

The thick black hair of the forty-five-year-old man had not yet begun to grey. He would smile kindly and talk to his rabbits. The hardest time for him was autumn, when the rabbits had to be "sent off for meat and pelts." For this task, Vassili would call over the fence to a neighbor, who — for a couple of bottles of Pshenichnaya vodka — would play the role of butcher and furrier. With the sad business done, the men would sit on a wooden bench, smoking and drinking the "bitter stuff," chasing it with cucumbers and herbs grown in the ravine. Children of the war, they would reminisce about the past and discuss the present with a certain gloom. It was 1975. The "little white one" (vodka) was slowly taking hold of their emotions. Crossing his legs, Vassili Ivanovich would begin to quietly sing: "Charming eyes, you have charmed me..."

He expected his "audience" — his wife, Ilona Pavlovna — to be pleased by the good mood drifting up from the ravine. But she would set aside the school notebooks she was grading, look down from the balcony, and feel only heartbreak at the "unrefined" state of the chief engineer. This talented man had long since stopped receiving awards for his innovations at the plant. Now, the main currency was a bottle of vodka. It was the "gold standard" of the Soviet working class, a force that destroyed families and crippled the lives of good people. Vassili Ivanovich was not a hopeless drunk; he never lay in the gutter and always brought his paycheck home. He was a respected leader at the plant, a clever and resourceful man. His photo hung on the "Board of Honor."

Yet, the regularity of the drink was perhaps a way to extinguish the internal suffering caused by the plot of his life. Miroshka saw how his mother suffered. She was from a "different planet." A straight-A student, a teacher of Russian literature, and a self-taught musician with a magnificent soprano, she had somehow chosen "Vasya," the handsome village lad, as her life partner. The spark had ignited during the war in the town of Borisoglebsk, at the city market.

In 1944, Vasily was fourteen, and Ilona was eleven. He was helping his father sell grain from the collective farm in Malye Alabukhi, while she was bartering her father’s cast-iron pots for food or money. Her father, Paul Peter von Bethes-Esterhazy, worked at the foundry. Besides defense production, they cast pots for Russian ovens.

In the heat of that summer, Ilona poured fresh well water into a round black pot. "A ruble for a drink! It's sweet!" she would shyly cry. Vasya could never quench his thirst, fueled by his infatuation with the girl with the long braid. One day, during a lunch break, her father appeared — a tall, sixty-year-old man leaning on a wooden cane. Clean-shaven with a Solingen razor and wearing a cap pulled low, he looked every bit the former military officer. And so he was. Paul had been a prisoner during the Great War, a young Hungarian count swept up in the whirlwind of revolution to become an internationalist Bolshevik.

When he saw his daughter selling water instead of the pots he had cast with his own hands, Paul Peter was overcome with indignation. He struck the pot with his cane with all his might. The noisy market went silent as the water droplets sparkled like a rainbow and the empty iron pot rolled across the cobblestones with the ring of a bell. Vasya and Ilona, terrified, remembered that day for the rest of their lives. That event stitched their fates together. Years later, when a tipsy Vassili Ivanovich would start a song, he would always drift into the memory: "Do you remember, Ilka?" Their children, Tanyusha and Miroshlav, learned the story by heart.

Miroshka loved his father. He was his friend and mentor. They fished together and caught crayfish in the Vorona River. From him, Miroshka learned to understand the forest and the river, to distinguish the wedding songs of the nightingale, and to "talk" to the cuckoo. The Russian banya with its birch or oak whisks became an inseparable part of Miroshka’s life. His father passed down the male genes and the "Khlynin" spiritual wit. He carried his tired son on his shoulders and gave his own blood when Miroshka lost his after an accident at a construction site. Vasily Ivanovich was proud of his son, watching him on the blue TV screen as Miroshka marched across Red Square as a young drummer, opening the military parade.

The mechanical engineer was not a man of long speeches. He would often say, briefly and simply: "Miroshka! Watch it!" (Smotri u menya!). Then came a long, ornate pause. Miroshka would look at his father, confused, wondering what exactly he was supposed to "watch."

His mother passed away at sixty-nine; his father lived to see his eightieth birthday. Those strong Russian genes did their work. But that phrase — "Watch it!"—remained undeciphered for a long time. Until one day, Miroshka said the same thing to his own sons: "Watch it!" And suddenly, with total clarity, he saw his father sitting on that bench in the ravine, surrounded by rabbits and the acrid smoke of Belomor-Kanal cigarettes, saying: "Son! Look at me! Be better than me! Live better than me! Reach the heights in this life! Don’t be 'cunning,' but be resourceful! Live by justice! Live by the law of Providence, not by ulterior motives!"

All those codes were hidden in just two phrases: "Miroshka, you old rogue! Watch it!"

Recorded while looking into the past of my parents. Buyan Island, the Kingdom of Tsar Saltan. September 19, 2021.

        CHAPTER 12: MY FATHER WAS AN ENGINEER

Have you ever wondered what your grandparents actually did for a living? I always knew my father was an engineer at a plant. As a "humanities guy," I assumed he sharpened some metal bits, adjusted gears, and did other incomprehensible "technical stuff." Perhaps at some local small-town factory, that would have been the case. He began his career at the "Mashzavod" in Gribanovka, and even then, every "bit of stuff" was vital to the national economy.

While gathering information on the Khlynin lineage, I had unfairly overlooked my father’s biography. I thought: he wasn't a general, he didn't work at top-secret sites, he didn't launch Yuri Gagarin into space. I wasn't even sure if he was ever a member of the Komsomol. What could a country boy from Malye Alabukhi achieve as an engineer?

But recently, I looked back at his thirty years at the "Barrikady" (Barricades) Plant, and I was struck by a sense of pride and profound shock. It turns out my father was a Senior Design Engineer for the kind of "hardware" that would make any highly-paid engineer at Lockheed Martin or Boeing swell with pride. And this was my father — with his modest engineer’s salary, carrying a string bag from the grocery store with a loaf of bread, some buckwheat, and a bottle of Pshenichnaya!

       The Giant of the Volga

The history of the plant is staggering. Founded in 1913 by decree of Emperor Nicholas II and built by the British company Vickers Limited, it was designed to produce large-caliber naval and coastal artillery. Through the revolutions, the World Wars, and the industrialization of the USSR, it became Plant No. 221. During the Great War, it produced a thousand artillery pieces a month before being evacuated during the Battle of Stalingrad.

By the time my father began his tenure, the plant was the cradle of the Soviet Union's "nuclear umbrella." While I was a student at the Moscow Military Music School from 1973 to 1980, marching with a drum across Red Square, Vassili Ivanovich Khlynin was designing and producing the ground equipment for missile systems that changed the course of the Cold War.

       The Lexicon of Power

In the West, these systems were known by fearsome NATO codenames. My father worked on:

The "Temp-2S": Known to NATO as the SS-16 Sinner.

The "Tochka": Known as the SS-21 Scarab.

The "Pion" (Peony): A massive 203-mm self-propelled gun designed to destroy high-value targets at tactical depths.

The "Pioneer": The infamous SS-20 Saber, a medium-range ballistic missile.

The "Oka": Known as the SS-23 Spider.

He also worked on naval launchers like the "Uragan" (NATO: SA-N-7 Gadfly) and the 152-mm "Akatsiya" (Acacia) howitzers.

My father never lied to me, but he lived behind a curtain of state secrets. When I asked what he did, he would simply say he was building "drilling rigs." Looking back, I realize he wasn't entirely untruthful — the plant did produce civilian equipment for the energy and metallurgical sectors. I remember once, he used a lathe to craft a miniature anvil and specialized tools for my flute teacher, Alexander Terekhin. "Romanych" was overjoyed; he had been repairing the students' woodwinds with nothing but makeshift tools.

       The Collapse and the Legacy

In the 1980s, while I studied International Law in Moscow, my father continued his work under Chief Designer Alexander Nadiradze on the "Topol" (NATO: SS-25 Sickle).

When the USSR collapsed, the "Barrikady" plant was officially designated a site of "strategic importance for the defense and security of the state." But the 1990s were cruel. My father had reached retirement age, but the plant wouldn't let him go. Salaries weren't paid for months. Skilled workers left to sell Chinese trinkets at flea markets just to feed their children. Yet, almost as "volunteers," men like my father stayed. They continued to produce the "Iskander-M," the "Topol-M," and the "Yars" and "Bulava" missiles.

They applied their ingenuity to everything: from the "Bereg" mobile coastal artillery to automated systems for the North-Donets lock system, and even "Ivolga" washing machines and spans for the great bridge across the Volga in Volgograd.

       The Cycle Continues

Our parents depart, and we are next in line. A new generation has grown. My father, Vassili Ivanovich Khlynin, passed away quietly and modestly in 2010 at the age of eighty, surrounded by his family.

To thousands of village boys like him, the Soviet era brought immense suffering, but also the fulfillment of a professional destiny. Most of the Great Designers and Engineers of the USSR came from families where the parents could neither read nor write — people who could never have dreamt of rockets.

I wish our parents and our children had built only grand civilian projects. But is that ever truly possible? Today, some of these weapons are turned against brothers and sisters. My father and the workers who forged these "Scythes" and "Spiders" must be turning in their graves.

Recorded while looking into the professional biography of my father at the "Barrikady" plant in Tsaritsyn-Stalingrad-Volgograd. Buyan Island, the Kingdom of Tsar Saltan. April 28, 2022.


       CHAPTER 13: THE SIGN
       (The Kursk Root Icon of the Mother of God)

The Pacific Ocean. Western Canada. The city of Victoria, British Columbia. The Church of St. Sophia (ROCOR), founded by the renowned enlightener Prince Nikita Sergeyevich Galitzine. From the outside, it is an ordinary Canadian-style house, lacking domes or bell towers. Inside, however, it is a true sanctuary, adhering to the canons of a Christian basilica.

Bright sunlight poured through the windows at 9:00 AM on Tuesday, May 22, 2019. The air was thick with the scent of frankincense — the kind that makes demons weep bitter tears. A choir of parishioners sang Orthodox psalms in English, their voices tender and melodic. Votive lamps and beeswax candles flickered before the icons. At the center of it all sat the Kursk Root Icon of the Mother of God "of the Sign" (Znamenie) — the principal relic of the morning Liturgy. I stood in the right aisle, holding my tablet high to record the event.

       The Sacred Thread

In the Khlynin family tree, there is a branch that nurtured generations of Cossacks at the source of the Don, in the village of Gremyachee and the hamlet of Khlynino in the Kursk region. They settled there after the Great Prince Ivan III destroyed the free city of Khlynov in 1489. Our roots are spiritually bound to two icons: the "Saviour Not Made by Hands" from Khlynov (which gave the Spasskaya Tower of the Kremlin its name) and this very "Kursk Root Icon."

A few days prior, I had "accidentally" met a fellow Cossack, Larisa Chernova, who brought me the "Good News": the miraculous icon had arrived in Victoria. Could I believe my ears? This relic, painted in 1295, a witness to centuries of turmoil, was now here on the Pacific coast.

I thought: "Is this a sign? Yes, definitely. I must introduce my sons, Vassili and Peter, to this relic. Will they feel its mystical essence?"

       Tales of Grandma Ulya

In my childhood, my grandmother Ulyana used to tell us "family fairy tales" about our heroic ancestors. Though she was nearly illiterate, her speech was like music. One of her stories was about Tit Khlynin, a Cossack who protected the "Kursk Mother of God" during the Russian Civil War.

"Once upon a time lived Tit Khlynin," she would say. "By the direct order of General Denikin, he escorted the holy monks to the steamship 'Saint Nicholas' to save the icon from the Red infidels."

Years later, my research confirmed the truth behind her "fairy tale." In October 1919, the icon was indeed rescued from the Kursk monastery to save it from Bolshevik desecration. Under the protection of Cossacks, it traveled through Taganrog, Rostov-on-Don, and Novorossiysk. In 1920, it was sent to Serbia, then briefly to Crimea to "encourage the White Army," and finally, on the dreadnought General Alexeyev, it left Russia forever. After years in Serbia and Germany, it found its permanent home at the Synod of Bishops in Manhattan, New York.

The path of God is inscrutable. I discovered that the man who brought the icon to America, Metropolitan Anastasy (Gribanovsky), was born in the village of Gribanovka — the same place where my grandmother was born. Perhaps his father had once taught my grandmother the law of God. Everything is interconnected.

       A Liturgy in English

I listened to the English words of the prayer. To my Russian soul, they felt distant, yet the melody was the same. The soul sings along regardless of the language. My sons, Vasya and Petya, arrived late, but they arrived. For these young Canadians, who constantly question 21st-century religion, setting aside their worldly affairs to come to church was a feat bordering on a miracle.

Petya tried to cross himself twice, confused by the ritual. Then, a minor scandal: the Archdeacon’s wife noticed Vassili was wearing shorts! A typical Canadian boy — shorts in winter and summer. But in an Orthodox temple... he was promptly escorted to the narthex (the "world of sinners"). Despite this, they waited until the end. Perhaps they, too, were waiting for a miracle?

       The Island of Death

What happened to the Cossack Tit Khlynin in exile? No miracle occurred for him personally. Archive records show he never returned home. Like thousands of others evacuated from Novorossiysk, he ended up on the Island of Lemnos in the Aegean Sea.

The Cossacks called it the "Island of Death." They lived in "tin palaces" made of clay and old fuel cans. They suffered from rats, lice, hunger, and bitter winds. Over 500 people, mostly children and the elderly, died there and were buried at Cape Punda. Tit Khlynin eventually moved to Yugoslavia, where he was killed during World War II in August 1944.

       The "Odigitria" of the Diaspora

Why did they hold on? They found strength in the history of the icon itself. In 1383, Tatars had hacked the icon in two. Legend says that when a priest named Bogolyub joined the pieces together, they miraculously grew back into one. This became a metaphor for the Russian people — torn apart by war, yet seeking to be made whole again.

The icon has visited the sick (including the young Seraphim of Sarov), survived a revolutionary bomb in 1898, and followed the exiles across the globe. It is the Odigitria — the "She Who Shows the Way."

And on that day in Victoria, another circle closed. The bishop who accompanied the icon, Archbishop Gabriel, was the great-grandson of a priest named Gavriil Luchinin... from Khlynov (Vyatka).

       The Khlynin Clergy

Were there priests among the Khlynins? Yes.

Ivan Khlynin, a Cossack priest, was arrested in 1931 near Malye Alabukhi.

Archpriest Vladimir Khlynov was the confessor to the Royal Family (the Romanovs) during their imprisonment in Tobolsk in 1917. He later perished in the Solovki labor camp.

Nun Ekaterina Khlynina was sentenced to five years in Kazakhstan in 1931.

Could we, the Khlynins of today, miss a meeting with our own past? A Sign? Yes, a Sign.

       A Prayer to the Most Holy Theotokos before Her Kursk-Root Icon "Of the Sign"

"O Queen of Heaven! Who can count the great multitude of Thy wonders? Who can number the cries of prayerful petitions, the streams of tender tears, and the grateful sighs poured out before Thy holy icon? For it is entirely enveloped in the sorrows of the people, the weeping of the oppressed, and the joyful praise of those who have found comfort.

People who bore the Hagarene yoke fell down before it; Moscow wept before it in the Time of Troubles; Kursk cried out to it during enemy invasions. All the land wailed in days of deadly disease and misfortune, and Thou didst turn all those sorrows into joy.

Therefore, even now, bless the Russian land. Save our country from sin, perdition, and temptation. Pour out Thy grace upon the labors of the field and upon every good public endeavor. Remember, O Most Holy Virgin, by name all those present and praying, and all people who stand in need of Thy consolation, help, and mercy.

For Thou knowest the secrets of our hearts; therefore, fulfill the petitions of all according to their needs. Especially lead the lost back to repentance, and grant us all wisdom through the light of Gospel love and good works. Show the Archpastors, pastors, and all the faithful to be steadfast in Orthodoxy unto death; guide us into the Kingdom of Heaven and grant that we may live with Christ forever and ever. Amen."

Recorded while looking at the sky, on Buyan Island, in the kingdom of the glorious Tsar Saltan. May 28, 2019.


       CHAPTER 14: HOW THE TOPONYMIC TRACES OF RUSSIAN KIN ARE ERASED
       (A Study of Memory and Names)

Miroslav chose not to put a question mark in the title of his toponymic notes; the reality was already clear. For hundreds of years, life on the Russian land — even in its most remote corners — endured, preserving traditions and names. Today, in the age of science and technology, it seems to be dying out. Settlements, villages, and even entire cities are vanishing. Our present is receding into the past, washed away like the historical debris of spring floods (khlyn). There are fewer places left for toponymists to study; the names of the Russian clans who lived on this land are disappearing, severing the connection between the past and the future through the sins of the present.

Ancient terms like votchina (patrimony), pomestye (estate), selo, and derevnya are falling out of our vocabulary. They are being replaced by alien, industrial names: "Dawn of Communism," "Lenin Collective Farm," or modern fabrications like "Agro-complex Volzhsky" and "KubanFruit Russia" — entities torn from their ancient toponymic roots.

       The Great Renamers

The reformers in power changed the names of cities without a second thought. Sophia Augusta Frederica of Anhalt-Zerbst, known as Catherine II, rebuilt Russian cities in the European fashion and renamed those that displeased her.

The city of Khlynov, which grew from a fortress in 1181 within the Vyatka Veche Republic, was renamed Vyatka by her decree on September 11, 1780. Later, on December 5, 1934, other reformers renamed it Kirov to honor the Bolshevik Sergei Kostrikov (alias Kirov).

The people of Vyatka have been unlucky: their history has been rewritten repeatedly. Local historians are still battling over the true founding date of Khlynov. Recently, they concocted a theory that the Novgorod "trailblazers" (ushkuyniki) first named the fortress Vyatka, and then — for some unknown reason 280 years later — renamed it Khlynov. It is nonsense. They claim "Khlynov" comes from the word khlyn, meaning a "rogue" or "swindler." But this is a stumbling block of etymology.

       The Mystery of the Root "Khlyn"

Who are these interpreters of the ancient Russian word? From Vladimir Dal to Max Vasmer, the definitions are contradictory:

Khlyn (Õëûíü): A quiet trot of a horse; a flood or deposit of sand on meadows after a spring overflow.

Khlynit (Õëûíèòü): To walk lazily (Vologda) or to swindle (Saratov).

Khlynovets (Õëûíîâåö): A term used for residents of Vyatka, sometimes meaning an idler or a shrewd trader.

The surname Khlynin originates from "khlyn" — the deposit left by floodwaters on floodplains. Khlynin Ivan was recorded as a peasant in Belev as early as 1606.

While the root Khlyn is found in various places, a simultaneous hydronym (river) and toponym (town) exists only in the Vyatka land: the Khlynovitsa River and the city of Khlynov (est. 1181). After the fall of the Vyatka Republic in 1489, the Khlynins were scattered. They founded villages named Khlynovo or Khlynino in Moscow, Ryazan, and Kursk regions. Yet, there are no other rivers in Russia with the root Khlyn except the one in Vyatka. The verb khlynut (to gush or surge), however, remains essential to the Russian language.

       The Legend of Miroshka the Rogue

Through chronicles and family legends, the silhouette of the Khlynin-Khlynov clan emerges. Between 1151 and 1204, there lived in Great Novgorod a boyar and posadnik named Miroslav (Miroshêa) Nesdinich, nicknamed Khlyn. He likely earned the nickname because his estate was in a part of Novgorod regularly flooded by the Volkhov River.

In 1173, Miroshka and the ushkuyniki set out to settle new lands. According to the "Tale of the Land of Vyatka," they founded the fortress of Khlynov and named the river Khlynovitsa in honor of their leader.

Miroska’s sons, Boris and Dmitry, could not hold onto their power in Novgorod. Dmitry fell victim to the slander of rival boyars who accused the family of creating an "oligarchic clan." In 1207, the "Miroshkinich" (Khlynin) estate was burned. Dmitry was buried beside his father in the St. George Cathedral of the Yuriev Monastery. In 2016, archaeologists found 12th-century stone sarcophagi there. I wonder — if DNA tests were conducted on those remains, would they match the Y-chromosome of the modern Khlynins?

       The Geography of Disappearance

After the final defeat of the Khlynov Republic in 1489 by Ivan III, the noble families were forcibly relocated to Moscow lands. This began a new chapter of service for the Khlynins as "boyar children" (minor nobility) and Cossacks.

Moscow Region: Two villages named Khlynovo existed. One remains today in the Ramenskoye district with only 17 residents. The other was abolished and exists only as a garden association.

Ryazan Region: The village of Khlynino in the Putyatinsky district has dwindled to 12 people.

Kursk Region: Two villages remain. In Zheleznogorsk Khlynino, our relatives — Old Believers Alexander and Andrei Khlynin — still live. Records from 1866 show 423 residents; by 2010, only 60 remained.

Miroslav realized that as he recorded these names, the places themselves were vanishing. Our family traces are being erased from the map of Russia.

What can we do to change the course of history?

The Photograph: One of our Orenburg branches of the Yaik Cossacks, the Khlynins! From left to right: Safron Sidorovich, Nikolai Sidorovich, Mikhail Sidorovich (father of the boy in the papakha, Alexander Mikhailovich), and Vasily Sidorovich (A hero who died on November 24, 1942, near Stalingrad, as a T-34 tank driver). Photo taken in 1932, Orenburg.


       CHAPTER 15: DOMASHA

Domna Ivanovna Khlynina was born in 1911. She was the eldest daughter of Ivan Maksimovich Khlynin and Ulyana Vasilyevna Ryabikina. Of the twelve children Ulyana brought into the world, only eight survived; the Civil War and famine claimed four infants. This was the price paid for the right of the others to live.

Domna Ivanovna was affectionately called Domasha. A "Thumbelina" of small stature with green eyes, she was adorned with long, curly, light-brown braids. Personal happiness eluded her; instead, she spent her life immersed in the care of her younger siblings, and later, their children and grandchildren. The ten years granted to her for finding a suitor before the Second World War flew by too quickly. They say the man she loved dearly vanished in the early 1930s, branded an "enemy of the people" and an agent of unimaginable foreign intelligence services. She remained a virgin, dedicating her short life to God and her family.

Born before the October Revolution of 1917, she was given the Latin name Domna — meaning "lady of the house" or "homemaker" — chosen from the church calendar. Remarkably, she became exactly that. Fragile in appearance but always in motion, Domasha traveled from the home of one sister to another, or to her brother’s house, always bearing gifts for the children. In our family, beautiful things were never thrown away; they found a second life through the skill of her hands. She sewed and knitted, and we wore those downy shawls, mittens, and scarves through the freezing Voronezh winters. She even painted intricate designs on children’s valenki (felt boots). On white and grey felt, the boys saw knights, horses, and bears, while the girls marveled at fantastic flowers.

The children always anticipated her "sweet" arrivals: homemade cherry or apple jam from Grandma’s garden, honeycomb from Sister Anastasia’s apiary, or pickled watermelons from Sister Agafya. This woman, with her angelic, icon-like face, was a cherished messenger of news and joy. To us, the cousins, Aunt Domasha was a holiday in human form.

       The Godmother

For Miroshka and Tanyushka, "Domn Ivanna" became their godmother at the Cathedral of the Sign. In the 1960s, the Znamensky Cathedral was the only church open to believers in the city of Borisoglebsk. Vladimir Ivanovich Khlynin — a hero of the Great War, a Communist, and the eldest brother — became the godfather, while Domna Ivanovna served as the godmother.

Before Miroshka was even a "Little Octobrist," he was baptized and introduced to the Vatopedi Icon of the Mother of God, "Consolation and Comfort." The Virgin Mary gazed at him intently, holding her crowned infant by the right hand, as if trying to warn Miroshka of something. To five-year-old Miroslav, the Cathedral seemed immense, its gilded iconostas — a gift from Emperor Nicholas II — shining brilliantly. That brilliance is his primary memory of the baptism, for his young mind was preoccupied with the promise made by Godfather Volodya: ice cream, a scooter, and the "giant Ferris wheel" in the city park that would lift him into the clouds.

       A Life of Service

Miroshka never knew exactly where Aunt Domasha "officially" lived. Like a fairy godmother, she simply appeared whenever a child was too sick for daycare or school and parents had no one to leave them with. She brewed medicinal herbs, applied mustard plasters and cupping glasses, read fairy tales, and checked the homework of the first-graders.

Aunt Domasha lived an inconspicuous and relatively short life of sixty-six years (1911–1977). At the time of her passing, Miroshka was studying at the Suvorov Military School and was unable to attend her funeral.

What else is there to tell or remember about her? Let us instead be silent for a moment and look at her "photo-icon." She will come to life and ask: "How are we doing here, my little Cossack?"


Recorded while looking at the symbols and signs of my godmother, Domasha. Buyan Island, the Kingdom of the glorious Tsar Saltan. October 27, 2021.    


       CHAPTER 16: CONCLUSION
       The Immortal Soul and a Living Legacy

These are the primary symbols of the KHLYNIN LINEAGE. I encourage you to reproduce them within your own families. Embroider them upon your festive clothing, paint them onto your household items, and let your family flags fly high!

The history of the Khlynins reflects the very soul of ancient Russian beliefs and the sacred tradition of naming. I call upon all branches of the Khlynin-Khlynov family — and indeed, all who read these words — to look closely at your own ancestors. To bring the spirits of your forefathers into a single family circle at the table of modern history is a magnificent and holy task.

Your children and grandchildren will thank you, and your ancestors will join your "information portal" — you will surely feel their presence! You will hear them whisper:

"Do not fear death! Fear only a base and ignoble life. Love those who live beside you now. Build kind relationships and sacred bonds — then you will have as many friends in the spirit world as you had on Earth. Hell is not found in demons and boiling cauldrons; Hell is total loneliness and the eternal oblivion of the soul. The body is mortal, but the soul is eternal!"

“The homeland is never small... we just grow!”

Homeland is never small; it's just that we grow,
Beyond its borders, we wander, we go.
But always, its memories we carry,
In our hearts, they never tarry.

As we grow, we explore new lands,
But never forget where we first stand.
Our roots firmly planted in its soil,
Its essence in us, forever loyal.

We may travel far and wide,
To distant shores, we may abide.
But the scent of our land we know,
From its aroma, our love does grow.

The place where we took our first steps,
And where our hearts have safely kept
The memories of our childhood days,
And all the joy in so many ways.

The mountains, the rivers, the sea,
All part of our identity.
The songs we sing, the words we say,
Echoing through time, come what may.

For no matter where we go,
The love for our homeland does grow.
And when we return, we understand,
Its vastness and beauty, forever grand.

So, let us never forget,
The land that raised us, with respect.
For it's not small; it's just that we,
Grow beyond its borders, child-like and free.
      



       GLOSSARY OF TERMS

Historical, Administrative, and Cultural Concepts

Boyar (Áîÿðèí): A member of the highest rank of the feudal aristocracy in ancient Rus. Boyars were the advisors to the princes and held significant political power, often forming their own governing councils.

Birch Bark Manuscript (Áåðåñòÿíàÿ ãðàìîòà): Letters and documents written on the prepared bark of a birch tree. These archaeological finds are unique to the Novgorod region and provide a direct "voice" of the people, ranging from business ledgers to personal love letters.

Cossack (Êàçàê): Originally "free people" or "frontiersmen." In the context of the Khlynin lineage, they represent the warrior class that defended the southern and eastern frontiers of the expanding Russian state, known for their skill in horsemanship and independent governance.

Grivna (Ãðèâíà): The primary currency and unit of weight in ancient Rus, typically in the form of silver ingots. A "silver grivna" was a substantial sum, often used for international trade or major fines.

Lyudin End (Ëþäèí êîíåö): One of the five ancient districts (districts) of Great Novgorod. It was the historical residence of the Khlynin ancestors and the site of significant archaeological excavations.

Posadnik (Ïîñàäíèê): Often translated as Mayor. In the Novgorod Republic, the Posadnik was the highest elected official, chosen by the Veche to lead the administration, command the army alongside the Prince, and oversee the courts.

Saryn na Kichku! (Ñàðûíü íà êè÷êó!): An ancient war cry. In its historical context, it was an order to move the common people and captives to the upper deck (the kichka) during a naval engagement to ensure their safety and clear the path for combat.

Streltsy (Ñòðåëüöû): Literally "Shooters." They were the elite standing infantry of the Russian Tsardom from the 16th to the early 18th century, armed with firearms and poleaxes.

Tysyatsky (Òûñÿöêèé): Literally "The Thousand-man." A high-ranking military and judicial official in Novgorod, originally representing the non-noble population and the merchant class.

Ushkuy (Óøêóé): A versatile, shallow-draft sailing and rowing vessel. Its design allowed it to navigate both the rough northern seas and shallow river systems, making it the primary tool of the northern pioneers and warriors.

Ushkuyniki (Óøêóéíèêè): The decentralized military-commercial expeditions of Novgorod. Often described as "river pirates" by their rivals, they were in reality the explorers, warriors, and elite scions who expanded the influence of Northern Rus to the East and the Volga.

Varangians (Âàðÿãè): The Rus' term for the Scandinavians (Vikings) who traveled, traded, and settled in Eastern Europe. They formed the ruling dynasties of early Rus and integrated into the Boyar elite.

Veche (Âå÷å): The supreme popular assembly in the Novgorod Republic. It was a form of direct democracy where free citizens gathered to decide on war, peace, and the election of officials.

White-Landed (Áåëîìåñòíûå): A status of land ownership (specifically for Cossacks and Streltsy) that was exempt from state taxes in exchange for permanent military service.



TABLE OF CONTENTS
FOREWORD: The Bridge of Memory ........................................................... 1 Reflections on the suitcase of a father and the call of the blood.

PART I: THE ANCHOR OF HISTORY
CHAPTER 1: Who Was the First Khlyn? ...................................................... 5

The Mystery of the Rusty-Brown Suitcase

From the Yaik to the Don: A Cossack Legacy

The Search for the Progenitor: Miroshka "Khlyn" Nesdinich

CHAPTER 2: The Discovery Miroshka "Khlyn" .................................. 12

The Gyuryatinich-Rogovich Clan: From Swedish Jarls to Russian Boyars

Ragnvald the Old and the Legend of Ladoga

The "Khlyn" Hypothesis: Water, Horses, and the Power of Nature

CHAPTER 3: The Rise and Fall of the First Oligarchy ................................. 24

The Mayoralty of Miroshka: Treaties with the "Latin Nations"

Birch Bark Chronicles: Voices from the 12th Century Soil

Dmitr’s Boards: The Financial Scandal that Shook Novgorod

The Great Fire and the Flight to the East

CHAPTER 4: The Republic of River Pirates (Ushkuyniki) ............................. 38

The Founding of Khlynov: A Fortress of Independent Spirits

Ushkuyniki vs. The Tsars: The Long Struggle for Autonomy

"Saryn na Kichku!": Deciphering the Ancient War Cry

CHAPTER 5: Symbols and Heraldic Signs of the Khlynin Clan
 ............................................... 50

The Varangian Shield: A Reconstruction of the Clan Coat of Arms

The Purple Flag: A Symbol of Byzantine and Imperial Dignity

The Miraculous Icon: Why the Kremlin’s Spasskaya Tower Bears Our Name

Totems of the Clan: The Polar Bear and the Scythian Deer

CHAPTER 6: The Science of Identity (DNA Genealogy) ............................. 65

Mapping the Y-Chromosome: The R-YP1112 Signature

The "Swedish Trace": A Genetic Link Across the Baltic

Ethnic Mosaic: From Ilmen Slavs to Global Frontiers

PART II: THE ECHO OF THE AGES

CHAPTER 7: The Khlynins of Pervye Malye Alabukhi

CHAPTER 8:ALABUSHKA

CHAPTER 9: THE SAGA OF SKAGUL TOSTE THE VIKING

CHAPTER 10: THE SPLINTERS OF THE "KIROV FOREST" IN KHLYNOV

CHAPTER 11: "WATCH IT!"

CHAPTER 12: MY FATHER WAS AN ENGINEER

CHAPTER 13: THE SIGN (The Kursk Root Icon of the Mother of God)

CHAPTER 14: HOW THE TOPONYMIC TRACES OF RUSSIAN KIN ARE ERASED

CHAPTER 15: DOMASHA

CHAPTER 16: CONCLUSION. The Immortal Soul and a Living Legacy

...........................................................

Building the Information Portal for Future Generations

The Commandment of the Ancestors: "Fear only an Ignoble Life"

APPENDIX 85

Archival Documents and Family Trees

Glossary of Terms (Boyar, Posadnik, Ushkuy)

       BOOK BLURB: Heritage of the Ancestors

What is hidden in your father's old suitcase? For Vladimir Angelblazer, it was the key to a thousand-year-old mystery.

In Heritage of the Ancestors: The Khlynin Ushkuyniki, the author embarks on a relentless quest to decode his rare surname. What begins as a collection of family stories from the Russian steppe transforms into a high-stakes historical detective story. From the DNA of Swedish Viking Jarls to the power-hungry Mayors of Great Novgorod, Angelblazer traces a lineage of "independent spirits" who refused to bow to kings or tsars.

Discover the world of the Ushkuyniki — the medieval river-pirates of the North — and the rise and fall of the first Russian oligarchs. Through archaeological finds, birch bark manuscripts, and cutting-edge genetic science, this book reveals:

How one family’s greed sparked a revolution in 1207.

Why the most famous tower of the Moscow Kremlin is named after a "pirate" fortress.

The secret meaning behind the ancient war cry: "Saryn na kichku!"

This is more than a genealogy; it is a manifesto for anyone seeking their roots in a globalized world. It is a reminder that while the body is mortal, the memory of the clan is an immortal bridge to the soul.

"Do not fear death. Fear only an ignoble life."