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[Illustration: Jókai Mór]
_SPECIAL AUTHORISED EDITION_
IN LOVE WITH THE CZARINA
_AND OTHER STORIES_
BY MAURICE JÓKAI
TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL HUNGARIAN
_WITH THE AUTHOR'S SPECIAL PERMISSION_
BY LOUIS FELBERMANN
AUTHOR OF "HUNGARY AND ITS PEOPLE" ETC.
[Illustration]
LONDON
FREDERICK WARNE & CO.
AND NEW YORK
[_All rights reserved_]
CONTENTS
PAGE
INTRODUCTION 9
IN LOVE WITH THE CZARINA 17
TAMERLAN THE TARTAR 57
VALDIVIA 111
BIZEBAN 141
THE MOONLIGHT SOMNAMBULIST 151
DEDICATED TO
HUNGARY'S GREATEST WRITER
MAURICE JÓKAI
BY LOUIS FELBERMANN
"From him I took it; to him I give it"
EASTERN PROVERB
_London 1894_
INTRODUCTION
The entire Hungarian nation--king and people--have recently been
celebrating the jubilee of Hungary's greatest writer, Maurice Jókai,
whose pen, during half a century of literary activity, has given no less
than 250 volumes to the world. Admired and beloved by his patriotic
fellow-countrymen, Jókai has displayed that kind of genius which
fascinates the learned and unlearned alike, the old and the young. He
enchants the children of Hungary by his fairy-tales, and as they grow up
into men and women he implants within them a passion for their native
land and a knowledge of its splendid history such as only his poetic and
dramatic pen could engrave upon their memory. His versatility of
talent--for, besides being the Hungarian poet-laureate, he is a
novelist, playwright, historian, and orator--enables the Hungarians to
see in him their Heine, their Byron, their Walter Scott, and their
Victor Hugo.
Jókai began his career at a period when Hungary aspired to political
freedom, and his powerful pen, in combination with that of his familiar
friend, Alexander Petofi, Hungary's greatest lyric poet, was mainly
instrumental in rousing the nation to arms. In 1849, when the Hungarian
nation had sustained a cruel defeat, it was Jókai who cheered the
flagging spirits of the Magyars, and by the potency and skill of his
extraordinary pen influenced that reconciliation between Sovereign and
people which was ultimately accomplished by Hungary's greatest
statesman, Francis Deák.
The Hungarian language is one of the richest of Turanian tongues, and
particularly lends itself to the didactic and romantic styles. So far
back as the beginning of the thirteenth century we find traces of
Hungarian literature, and, if it had been permitted to develop, Hungary
might now have possessed a literature second to none in the modern
world. But in consequence of political struggles the Hungarian language
and literature had to give way, at times, either to the Latin or German
races, so much so that as late as 1849 all scientific subjects had to be
taught either in German or in Latin. It was then that a few patriotic
Magyars took the matter acutely to heart, and strove to restore the
language and literature of their country, with the happy result that
Hungary now, in proportion to its population, comes immediately after
Germany in the number of its universities, colleges, and scientific
institutions, where all subjects are taught in the _Hungarian language
only_.
Maurice Jókai is not only one of those who restored Hungarian
literature, but is the creator of a particular style of romance, which
stamps his works as unique, and has caused them to be eagerly read, and
translated into almost every modern language. It is no wonder,
therefore, that the Hungarians, who are a cultured race, should delight
in showing all honour and respect to the veteran author, who has given
to the world over a hundred splendid works on all subjects, comprising
250 volumes.
Jókai is descended from a middle-class family, a fact which he is always
proud to own, and has no ambition to rise in higher spheres of society,
although the greatest people in the land, including the Empress-Queen
herself, favour him with their personal friendship.
He is a tall, fine-looking man, and carries himself well. He generally
dresses in a black-braided costume, which is the favourite national
Hungarian uniform of those patriots who belong to the forty-eight
period, which marks such an epoch in the history of Hungary. In his
younger days his beard was dark and silky, but now he is quite grey. He
occupies a modest house, and leads a very simple life.
To give the full history of such a great writer as Maurice Jókai, the
titles of whose works fill nine pages of the British Museum catalogue,
would be a task of considerable research, and would itself extend to
volumes. I therefore only propose to touch upon a few of the salient
points of his career.
Jókai was born on February 19, 1825, at Komárom, which city, by-the-by,
is known as the "Virgin Fortress of Hungary."
He received his education partly in his native town and at Pozsony, the
ancient capital of Hungary, Pápa and Kecskemét; and in 1846 he passed an
examination as an advocate, though he did not follow the profession
afterwards.
In the same year he took up his abode at Budapest, where in the
following year he assumed the editorship of a paper called _Életképek_
(Pictures of Life).
In 1848 he played an important part in the revolution, both in inciting
the people by his literary writings and as a soldier. In 1849 he married
Rose Laborfalvi, the famous actress. In the same year he followed the
National Hungarian Government, which removed its seat to Debreczen, and
became the editor of the _Esti Lapok_ (Evening News). From that time
activity characterised his literary and general career.
In the political movements of 1861 he was to the front both as member of
parliament and as newspaper editor. In 1860 he was elected member of the
Kisfaludy Society, and in 1861 he became a member of the Hungarian
Academy of Sciences, of which institute he is now a member of the
executive committee. He is also the president of the Petofi Society.
His first novel was "A Hétköznapok" (Days of the Week), which appeared
in 1846, and since then hardly a year elapsed without the issue of
several volumes from his pen.
Amongst his novels the most celebrated are:
"Egy Magyar Nábob" (The Hungarian Nabob).
"Kárpáthy Zoltán."
"A Koszívu Ember Fiai" (The Sons of the Stonehearted Man).
"Szerelem Bolondjai" (Love's Puppet).
"Névtelen Vár" (The Nameless Fortress).
"Erdély Aranykora" (The Golden Period of Transylvania).
"Bálványosvár" (Idol Fortunes).
"Fekete Gyémántok" (Black Diamonds).
"A Jövo Század Regénye" (The Romance of the Future Century).
"Az Új Földesúr" (The New Landlord).
"Nincsen Ördög" (There is no Devil).
"Az Arany Ember" (The Gold Man).
"A Szép Mikhál" (Pretty Michael).
Of his recent novels the most famous is the one published in 1892, in
which Monk Gregory is the hero.
The short stories that we are presenting in this volume belong to his
earliest writings.
Jókai's novels--in which his own strong personality everywhere reveals
itself--are characterised by great imaginative power and by a light,
humorous style which fascinates the reader. It may be said, without much
exaggeration, that in point of wit and humour few living writers can
compare with him. His subjects are principally drawn from history; but
many of his works are remarkable for their vivid descriptions of
Hungarian life, both past and present. In one word it might justly be
said that in reading Jókai's novels one reads the history of Europe, and
in reading Jókai's history one reads a novel drawn from actual life.
As a poet he occupies a unique position, and stands altogether alone:
for his lyrics, ballads, and heroic verse are even sung by the
schoolchildren throughout Hungary. As a dramatist his fame is extensive;
and his "Könyves Kálmán" (Koloman, King of Hungary, surnamed the Book
King), "Dózsa György, The Martyr of Szigetvár," "Az Arany Ember" (The
Golden Man), and "Fekete Gyémántok" (Black Diamonds), have been
incessantly performed with the greatest success.
As a politician he has made a considerable mark, and no one who has had
the privilege of hearing him deliver an oration will forget the music
and sonority of his fine voice. What is less generally known is that he
is an enthusiastic botanical student and an admirable painter.
These are a few outlines of the life of Hungary's greatest writer, and
in the interest of literature let it be hoped that his life may be long
spared, and that his remaining years may be spent in the utmost
happiness. Such is the fervent wish of all his admirers, who are drawn,
not only from this country, but from all civilised peoples, nations, and
languages.
LOUIS FELBERMANN
(_Author of "Hungary and its People"_).
IN LOVE WITH THE CZARINA
In the time of the Czar Peter III. a secret society existed at St.
Petersburg which bore the title of "The Nameless." Its members used to
assemble in the house of a Russian nobleman, Jelagin by name, who alone
knew the personality of each visitor, they being, for the most part,
unknown to one another. Distinguished men, princes, ladies of the Court,
officers of the Guard, Cossack soldiers, young commercial men,
musicians, street-singers, actors and actresses, scientific men,
clergymen and statesmen, used to meet here. Beauty and talent were alone
qualifications for entry into the Society, the members of which were
selected by Jelagin. Everyone addressed the other as "thee" and "thou,"
and they only made use of Christian names such as Anne, Alexandra,
Katharine, Olga, Peter, Alexis, and Ivan. And for what purpose did they
assemble here? To amuse themselves at their ease. Those who, by the
prejudices of caste and rank, were utterly severed, and who occupied the
mutual position of master and slave, tore the chains of their barriers
asunder, and all met here. It is quite possible that he with whom the
grenadier-private is now playing chess is the very same General who
might order him a hundred lashes to-morrow, should he take a step on
parade without his command! And now he contends with him to make a queen
out of a pawn!
It is also probable that the pretty woman who is singing sportive French
songs to the accompaniment of the instrument she strikes with her left
hand, is one of the Court ladies of the Czarina, who, as a rule, throws
half-roubles out of her carriage to the street-musicians! Perhaps she is
a Princess? possibly the wife of the Lord Chamberlain? or even higher in
grade than this? Russian society, both high and low, flower and root,
met in Jelagin's castle, and while there enjoyed equality in the widest
sense of the word. Strange phenomenon! That this should take place in
Russia, where so much is thought of aristocratic rank, official garb,
and exterior pomp; where an inferior is bound to dismount from his horse
upon meeting a superior, where sub-officers take off their coats in
token of salute when they meet those of higher rank, and where generals
kiss the priests' hands and the highest aristocrats fall on their faces
before the Czar! Here they sing and dance and joke together, make fun of
the Government, and tell anecdotes of the High Priests, utterly
fearless, and dispensing with salutations!
Can this be done for love of novelty? The existence of this secret
society was repeatedly divulged to the police, and these cannot be
reproached for not having taken the necessary steps to denounce it; but
proceedings, once begun, usually evaporated into thin air, and led to no
results. The investigating officer either never discovered suspicious
facts, or, if he did, matters were adjourned. Those who were arrested in
connection with the affair were in some way set at liberty in peace and
quietness; every document relating to the matter was either burnt or
vanished, and whole sealed cases of writings were turned into plain
white paper. When an influential officer took energetically in hand the
prosecution of "The Nameless," he was generally sent to a foreign
country on an important mission, from which he did not return for a
considerable period. "The Nameless Society" must have had very powerful
protectors. At the conclusion of one of these free and easy
entertainments, a young Cossack hetman remained behind the crowd of
departing guests, and when quite alone with the host he said to him:
"Jelagin, did you see the pretty woman with whom I danced the mazurka
to-night?"
"Yes, I saw her. Are you smitten with her, as others have been?"
"That woman I must make my wife."
Jelagin gave the Cossack a blow on the shoulder and looked into his
eyes.
"That you will not do! You will not take her as your wife, friend
Jemeljan."
"I shall marry her--I have resolved to do so."
"You will not marry her, for she will not go to you."
"If she does not come I will carry her off against her will."
"You can't marry her, because she has a husband."
"If she has a husband I will carry her off in company with him!"
"You can't carry her off, for she lives in a palace--she is guarded by
many soldiers, and accompanied in her carriage by many outriders."
"I will take her away with her palace, her soldiers, and her carriage. I
swear it by St. Gregory!"
Jelagin laughed mockingly.
"Good Jemeljan, go home and sleep out your love--that pretty woman is
the Czarina!"
The hetman became pale for a moment, his breath stopped; but the next
instant, with sparkling eyes, he said to Jelagin:
"In spite of this, what I have said I have said."
Jelagin showed the door to his guest. But, improbable as it may seem,
Jemeljan was really not intoxicated, unless it were with the eyes of the
pretty woman.
A few years elapsed. The Society of "The Nameless" was dissolved, or
changed into one of another form. Katharine had her husband, the Czar,
killed, and wore the crown herself. Many people said she had him killed,
others took her part. It was urged that she knew what was going to
happen, but could not prevent it--that she was compelled to act as she
did, and to affect, after a great struggle with her generous heart,
complete ignorance of poison being administered to her husband. It was
said that she had acted rightly, and that the Czar's fate was a just
one, for he was a wicked man; and finally, it was asserted that the
whole statement was untrue, and that no one had killed Czar Peter, who
died from intense inflammation of the stomach. He drank too much brandy.
The immortal Voltaire is responsible for this last assertion. Whatever
may have happened, Czar Peter was buried, and the Czarina Katharine now
saw that her late husband belonged to those dead who do not sleep
quietly. They rise--rise from their graves--stretch out their hands from
their shrouds, and touch with them those who have forgotten them. They
turn over in their last resting-place, and the whole earth seems to
tremble under the feet of those who walk above them!
Amongst the numerous contradictory stories told, one, difficult to
believe, but which the people gladly credited, and which caused much
bloodshed before it was wiped out of their memory, was this--that Czar
Peter died neither by his own hand, nor by the hands of others, but that
he still lived. It was said that a common soldier, with pock-marked face
resembling the Czar, was shown in his stead to the public on the
death-couch at St. Petersburg, and that the Czar himself had escaped
from prison in soldier's clothes, and would return to retake his throne,
to vanquish his wife, and behead his enemies! Five Czar pretenders rose
one after the other in the wastes of the Russian domains. One followed
the other with the motto, "Revenge on the faithless!" The usurpers
conquered sometimes a northern, sometimes a southern province,
collected forces, captured towns, drove out all officials, and put new
ones in their places, so that it was necessary to send forces against
them. If one was subjugated and driven away into the ice deserts, or
captured and hung on the next tree, another Czar Peter would rise up in
his place and cause rebellion, alarming the Court circle whilst they
were enjoying themselves; and so things went on continually and
continually. The murdered husband remained unburied, for to-day he might
be put in the earth and to-morrow he would rise again one hundred miles
off, and exclaim, "I still live!" He might be killed there, but would
pop out his head again from the earth, saying, "Still I live." He had a
hundred lives! When five of these Peter pretenders went the way of the
real Czar a sixth rose, and this one was the most dreaded and most
daring of all, whose name will perpetually be inscribed in the
chronicles of the Russian people as a dreadful example to all who will
not be taught wisdom, and his name is Jemeljan Pugasceff! He was born as
an ordinary Cossack in the Don province, and took part in the Prussian
campaign, at first as a paid soldier of Prussia, later as an adherent of
the Czar. At the bombardment of Bender he had become a Cossack hetman.
His extraordinary physical strength, his natural common sense and
inventive power, had distinguished him even at this time, but the peace
which was concluded barred before him the gate of progress. He was sent
with many discharged officers back to the Don. Let them go again and
look after their field labours! Pugasceff's head, however, was full of
other ideas than that of again commencing cheese-making, from which
occupation he had been called ten years before. He hated the Czarina,
and adored her! He hated the proud woman who had no right to tread upon
the neck of the Russians, and he adored the beautiful woman who
possessed the right to tread upon every Russian's heart! He became
possessed with the mad idea that he would tear down that woman from her
throne, and take her afterwards into his arms. He had his plans prepared
for this. He went along the Volga, where the Roskolniks live--they who
oppose the Russian religion, and who were the adherents of the
persecuted fanatics whose fathers and grandfathers had been continually
extirpated by means of hanging, either on trees or scaffolds, and this
only for the sole reason that they crossed themselves downwards, and not
upwards, as they do in Moscow!
The Roskolniks were always ready to plot if they had any pretence and
could get a leader. Pugasceff wanted to commence his scheme with these,
but he was soon betrayed, and fell into the hands of the police and was
carried into a Kasan prison and put into chains. He might thus go on
dreaming! Pugasceff dreamt one night that he burst the iron chains from
his legs, cut through the wall of the prison, jumped down from the
enclosure, swam through the surrounding trench whose depth was filled
with sharp spikes, and that he made his way towards the uninhabited
plains of the Ural Sorodok, without a crust of bread or a decent stitch
of clothing! The Jakics Cossacks are the only inhabitants of the plains
of Uralszk--the most dreaded tribe in Russia--living in one of those
border countries only painted in outline on the map, and a people with
whom no other on the plains form acquaintanceship. They change locality
from year to year. One winter a Cossack band will pay a visit to the
land of the Kirghese, and burn down their wooden huts; next year a
Kirgizian band will render the same service to the Cossacks! Fighting is
pleasanter work in the winter. In the summer everyone lives under the
sky, and there are no houses to be destroyed! This people belong to the
Roskolnik sect. Just a little while previously they had amused
themselves by slaughtering the Russian Commissioner-General Traubenberg,
with his suite, who came there to regulate how far they might be allowed
to fish in the river Jaik, and with this act they thought they had
clearly proved that the Government had nothing to do with their pike!
Pugasceff had just taken refuge amongst them at the time when they were
dividing the arms of the Russian soldiers, and were scheming as to what
they should further do. One lovely autumn night the escaped convict,
after a great deal of wandering in the miserable valley of Jeremina
Kuriza, situated in the wildest part of the Ural Mountains, and in its
yet more miserable town, Jaiczkoi, knocked at the door of the first
Cossack habitation he saw and said that he was a refugee. He was
received with an open heart, and got plenty of kind words and a little
bread. The house-owner was himself poor; the Kirgizians had driven away
his sheep. One of his sons, a priest of the Roskolnik persuasion, had
been carried away from him into a lead-mine; the second had been taken
to serve as a soldier, and had died; the third was hung because he had
been involved in a revolt. Old Kocsenikoff remained at home without sons
or family. Pugasceff listened to the grievances of his host, and said:
"These can be remedied."
"Who can raise for me my dead sons?" said the old man bitterly.
"The one who rose himself in order to kill."
"Who can that be?"
"The Czar."
"The murdered Czar?" asked the old soldier, with astonishment.
"He has been killed six times, and yet he lives. On my way here,
whenever I met with people, they all asked me, 'Is it true that the Czar
is not dead yet, and that he has escaped from prison?' I replied to
them, 'It is true. He has found his way here, and ere long he will make
his appearance before you.'"
"You say this, but how can the Czar get here?"
"He is already here."
"Where is he?"
"I am he!"
"Very well--very well," replied the old Roskolnik. "I understand what
you want with me. I shall be on the spot if you wish it. All is the
same to me as long as I have anyone to lead me. But who will believe
that you are the Czar? Hundreds and hundreds have seen him face to face.
Everybody knows that the visage of the Czar was dreadfully pockmarked,
whilst yours is smooth."
"We can remedy that. Has not someone lately died of black-pox in this
district?"
"Every day this happens. Two days ago my last labourer died."
"Well, I shall lay in his bed, and I shall rise from it like Czar
Peter."
He did what he said. He lay in the infected bed. Two days later he got
the black-pox, and six weeks afterwards he rose with the same wan face
as one had seen on the unfortunate Czar.
Kocsenikoff saw that a man who could play so recklessly with his life
did not come here to idle away his time. This is a country where out of
ten men nine have stored away some revenge of their own for a future
time. Amongst the first ten people to whom Kocsenikoff communicated his
scheme, he found nine who were ready to assist in the daring
undertaking, even at the cost of their lives; but the tenth was a
traitor. He disclosed the desperate plot to Colonel Simonoff, the
commander of Jaiczkoi, and the commander immediately arrested
Kocsenikoff; but Pugasceff escaped on the horse which had been sent out
with the Cossack who came to arrest him, and he even carried off the
Cossack himself! He jumped into the saddle, patted and spurred the
horse, and made his way into the forest.
History records for the benefit of future generations the name of the
Cossack whom Pugasceff carried away with his horse: Csika was the name
of this timid individual! This happened on September 15. Two days
afterwards Pugasceff came back from the forest to the outskirts of the
town Jaiczkoi. Then he had his horse, a scarlet fur-trimmed jacket, and
three hundred brave horsemen. As he approached the town he had trumpets
blown, and demanded that Colonel Simonoff should surrender and should
come and kiss the hand of his rightful master, Czar Peter III.! Simonoff
came with 5000 horsemen and 800 Russian regular troops against the
rebels, and Pugasceff was in one moment surrounded. At this instant he
took a loosely sealed letter from his breast and read out his
proclamation in a ringing voice to the opposing troops, in which he
appealed to the faithful Cossacks of Peter III. to help him to regain
his throne and to aid him to drive away usurpers, threatening with death
those traitors who should oppose his command. On hearing this the
Cossack troops appeared startled, and the exclamation went from mouth to
mouth, "The Czar lives! This is the Czar!" The officers tried to quiet
the soldiers, but in vain. They commenced to fight amongst themselves,
and the uproar lasted till late at night, with the result that it was
not Simonoff who captured Pugasceff, but the latter who captured eleven
of his officers; and when he retreated from the field his three hundred
men had increased to eight hundred. It was a matter of great difficulty
to the Colonel to lead back the rest into the town. Pugasceff set up
his camp outside in the garden of a Russian nobleman, and on his trees
he hung up the eleven officers. His opponent was so much alarmed that he
did not dare to attack him, but lay wait for him in the trenches, at the
mouth of the cannon. Our daring friend was not quite such a lunatic as
to go and meet him. He required greater success, more decisive battles,
and more guns. He started against the small towns which the Government
had built along the Jaik. The Roskolniks received the pseudo-Czar with
wild enthusiasm. They believed that he had risen from the dead to
humiliate the power of the Moscow priests, and that he intended to
adopt, instead of the Court religion, that which had been persecuted. On
the third day 1500 men accompanied him to battle. The stronghold of
Ileczka was the first halting-place he made. It is situated about
seventy versts from Jaiczkoi. He was welcomed with open gates and with
acclamation, and the guard of the place went over to his side. Here he
found guns and powder, and with these he was able to continue his
campaign. Next followed the stronghold of Kazizna. This did not
surrender of its own accord, but commenced heroically to defend itself,
and Pugasceff was compelled to bombard it. In the heat of the siege the
rebel Cossacks shouted out to those in the fort, and they actually
turned their guns upon their own patrols. All who opposed them were
strung up, and the Colonel was taken a prisoner to Pugasceff, who showed
no mercy to anyone who wore his hair long, which was the fashion at the
time amongst the Russian officers, and for this reason the pseudo-Czar
hung every officer who fell into his hands. Now, provided with guns, he
made his way towards the fort of Nisnàja Osfernàja, which he also
captured after a short attack. Those whom he did not kill joined him.
Now he led 4000 men, and therefore he could dare attack the stronghold
of Talitseva, which was defended by two heroes, Bilof and Jelagin. The
Russian authorities took up a firm position in face of the fanatical
rebels, and they would have repulsed Pugasceff, if the hay stores in the
fort had not been burnt down. This fire gave assistance to the rebels.
Bilof and Jelagin were driven out of the fort-gates, and were forced out
into the plains, where they were slaughtered. When the pseudo-Czar
captured the fort of Nisnàja Osfernàja, a marvellously beautiful woman
came to him in the market-place and threw herself at his feet. "Mercy,
my master!" The woman was very lovely, and was quite in the power of the
conqueror. Her tears and excitement made her still more enchanting.
"For whom do you want pardon?"
"For my husband, who is wounded in fighting against you."
"What is the name of your husband?"
"Captain Chalof, who commanded this fort."
A noble-hearted hero no doubt would have set at liberty both husband and
wife, let them be happy, and love one another. A base man would have
hung the husband and kept the wife. Pugasceff killed them both! He knew
very well that there were still many living who remembered that Czar
Peter III. was not a man who found pleasure in women's love, and he
remained true to his adopted character even in its worst extremes.
The rebels appeared to have wings. After the capture of Talicseva
followed that of Csernojecsinszkaja, where the commander took flight on
the approach of the rebel leader, and entrusted the defence of the fort
to Captain Nilsajeff, who surrendered without firing a shot. Pugasceff,
without saying "Thank you," had him hanged. He did not believe in
officers who went over to the enemy. He only kept the common soldiers,
and he had their hair cut short, so that in the event of their escaping
he should know them again! Next morning the last stronghold in the
country, Precsisztenszka, situated in the vicinity of the capital,
Orenburg, surrendered to the rebels, and in the evening the mock Czar
stood before the walls of Orenburg with thirty cannon and a
well-equipped army! All this happened in fifteen days.
Since the moment when he carried off the Cossack who had been sent to
capture him, and met Kocsenikoff, he had occupied six forts, entirely
annihilated a regiment, and created another, with which he now besieged
the capital of the province.
The towns of the Russian Empire are divided by great distances, and
before things were decided at St. Petersburg, Marquis Pugasceff might
almost have occupied half the country. It was Katharine herself who
nicknamed Pugasceff Marquis, and she laughed very heartily and often in
the Court circles about her extraordinary husband, who was preparing to
reconquer his wife, the Czarina. The nuptial bed awaited him--it was the
scaffold!
On the news of Pugasceff's approach, Reinsburg, the Governor of
Orenburg, sent, under the command of Colonel Bilof, a portion of his
troops to attack the rebel. Bilof started on the chase, but he shared
the fate of many lion-hunters. The pursued animal ate him up, and of his
entire force not one man returned to Orenburg. Instead of this,
Pugasceff's forces appeared before its gates.
Reinsburg did not wish to await the bombardment, and he sent his most
trusted regiment, under the command of Major Naumoff, to attack the
rebels. The mock-Czar allowed it to approach the slopes of the mountains
outside Orenburg, and there, with masked guns, he opened such a
disastrous fire upon them that the Russians were compelled to retire to
their fort utterly demoralised. Pugasceff then descended into the plains
and pitched his camp before the town. The two opponents both began with
the idea of tiring each other out by waiting. Pugasceff was encamped on
the snow-fields. The plains of Russia are no longer green in October,
and instead of tents he had huts made of branches of oak. The one force
was attacked by frost--the other by starvation. Finally starvation
proved the more powerful. Naumoff sallied from the fort, and turned his
attention towards occupying those heights whence his forces had been
fired upon a short time previously. He succeeded in making an onslaught
with his infantry upon the rebel lines, but Pugasceff, all of a sudden,
changed his plan of battle, and attacked with his Cossacks the cavalry
of his opponent, who took to flight. The victory fell from the grasp of
Naumoff, and he was compelled to fly with his cannon, breaking his way,
sword in hand, through the lines of the Cossacks. Then Pugasceff
attacked in his turn. He had forty-eight guns, with which he commenced a
fierce bombardment of the walls, which continued until November 9th,
when he ordered his troops to storm the town. The onslaught did not
succeed, for the Russians bravely defended themselves. Pugasceff,
therefore, had to make up his mind to starve out his opponents. The
broad plains and valleys were white with snow, the forests sparkled with
icicles, as though made of silver, and during the long nights the cold
reflection of the moon alone brightened the desolate wastes where the
audacious dream of a daring man kept awake the spirits of his men. The
dream was this: That he should be the husband of the Czarina of All the
Russias.
* * * * *
Katharine II. was passionately fond of playing tarok, and she
particularly liked that variety of the game which was later on named,
after a celebrated Russian general, "Paskevics," and required four
players. In addition to the Czarina, Princess Daskoff, Prince Orloff,
and General Karr sat at her table. The latter was a distinguished
leader of troops--_in petto_--and as a tarok-player without equal. He
rose from the table _semper victor_! No one ever saw him pay, and for
this reason he was a particular favourite with the Czarina. She said if
she could only once succeed in winning a rouble from Karr she would have
a ring welded to it and wear it suspended from her neck. It is very
likely that the mistakes of his opponents aided General Karr's continual
success. The two noble ladies were too much occupied with Orloff's fine
eyes to be able to fix their attention wholly upon the game, whilst
Orloff was so lucky in love that it would have been the greatest
injustice on earth if he had been equally successful at play. Once,
whilst shuffling the cards, some one casually remarked that it was a
scandalous shame that an escaped Cossack like Pugasceff should be in a
position to conquer a fourth of Russia in Europe, to disgrace the
Russian troops time after time, to condemn the finest Russian officers
to a degrading death, and now even to bombard Orenburg like a real
potentate.
"I know the dandy, I know him very well," said Karr. "During the life of
His Majesty I used to play cards with him at Oranienbaum. He is a stupid
youngster. Whenever I called _carreau_, he used to give _coeur_."
"It appears that he plays even worse now," said the Czarina; "now he
throws _pique_ after _coeur_!"
It was the fashion at this time at the Russian Court to throw in every
now and then a French word, and _coeur_ in French means heart, and
_piquer_ means to sting and prick.
"Yes, because our commanders have been inactive. Were I only there!"
"Won't you have the kindness to go there?" asked Orloff mockingly.
"If Her Majesty commands me, I am ready."
"Ah! this tarok-party would suffer a too great loss in you," said
Katharine, jokingly.
"Well, your Majesty might have hunting-parties at Peterhof," he said,
consolingly, to the Czarina.
This was a pleasant suggestion to Katharine, for at Peterhof she had
spent her brightest days, and there she had made the acquaintance of
Orloff. With a smile full of grace, she nodded to General Karr.
"I don't mind, then; but in two weeks you must be back."
"Ah! what is two weeks?" returned Karr; "if your Majesty commands it, I
will seat myself this very hour upon a sledge, and in three days and
nights I shall be in Bugulminszka. On the fourth day I shall arrange my
cards, and on the fifth I shall send word to this dandy that I am the
challenger. On the sixth day I shall give '_Volat_'[1] to the rascal,
and the seventh and eighth days I shall have him as _Pagato ultimo_,[2]
bound in chains, and bring him to your Majesty's feet!"
[Footnote 1: "_Volat_" is an expression used in tarok to denote that no
tricks have been made by an opponent.]
[Footnote 2: This is another term in the game, when the player announces
beforehand that he will make the last trick with the Ace of Trumps.]
The Czarina burst out laughing at the funny technical expressions used
by the General, and entrusted Orloff to provide the celebrated
_Pagato_-catching General with every necessity. The matter was taken
seriously, and Orloff promulgated the imperial _ukase_, according to
which Karr was entrusted with the control of the South Russian troops,
and at the same time he announced to him what forces he would have at
his command. At Bugulminszka was General Freymann with 20,000 infantry,
2000 cavalry, and thirty-two guns, and he would be reinforced by Colonel
Csernicseff, the Governor of Szinbirszk, who had at his command 15,000
horsemen, and twelve guns; while on his way he would meet Colonel
Naumann with two detachments of the Body Guard. He was in particular to
attach the latter to him, for they were the very flower of the army.
Karr left that night. His chief tactics in campaigning consisted in
speediness, but it seems that he studied this point badly, for his great
predecessors, Alexander the Great, Frederick the Great, Hannibal, &c.,
also travelled quickly, but in company with an army, whilst Karr thought
it quite sufficient if he went alone. He judged it impossible to travel
faster than he did, sleighing merrily along to Bugulminszka; but it was
possible. A Cossack horseman who started the same time as he did from
St. Petersburg, arrived thirty-six hours before him, informed Pugasceff
of the coming of General Karr, and acquainted him as to the position of
his troops. Pugasceff despatched about 2000 Cossacks to fall upon the
rear of the General, and prevent his junction with the Body Guard.
Karr did not consult any one at Bugulminszka. He pushed aside his
colleague Freymann in order to be left alone to settle the affair. He
said it was not a question of fighting but of chasing. He must be caught
alive--this wild animal. Csernicseff was already on the way with 1200
horsemen and twelve guns, as he had received instructions from Karr to
cross the river Szakmara and prevent Pugasceff from retreating, while he
himself should, with the pick of the regiment, attack him in front and
thus catch him between two fires. Csernicseff thought he had to do with
clever superiors, and as an ordinary divisional leader he did not dare
to think his General to be so ignorant as to allow him to be attacked by
the magnificent force of his opponent, nor did he think that Pugasceff
would possess such want of tactics as, whilst he saw before him a strong
force, to turn with all his troops to annihilate a small detachment.
Both these things happened. Pugasceff quietly allowed his opponents to
cross over the frozen river. Then he rushed upon them from both sides.
He had the ice broken in their rear, and thus destroyed the entire
force, capturing twelve guns. Csernicseff himself, with thirty-five
officers, was taken prisoner, and Pugasceff had them all hanged on the
trees along the roadway. Then, drunk with victory, he moved with his
entire forces against Karr. He, too, was approaching hurriedly, and,
thirty-six miles from Bugulminszka, the two forces met in a Cossack
village. General Karr was quite astonished to find, instead of an
imagined mob, a disciplined army divided into proper detachments, and
provided with guns. Freymann advised him, as he had sent away the
trusted squadron of Csernicseff, not to commence operations now with the
cavalry, to take the village as the basis of his operations, and to use
his infantry against the rebels. A series of surprises then befell Karr.
He saw the despised rowdy crowd approaching with drawn sabres, he saw
the coolness with which they came on in the face of the fiercest
musketry fire. He saw the headlong desperation with which they rushed
upon his secure position. He recognised that he had found here heroes,
instead of thieves. But what annoyed him most was that this rabble knew
so well how to handle their cannon; for in St. Petersburg, out of
precaution, Cossacks are not enlisted in the artillery, in order that no
one should teach them how to serve guns. And here this ignorant people
handled the guns, stolen but yesterday, as though accustomed to them all
their lifetime, and their shells had already set fire to villages in
many different places. The General ordered his entire line to advance
with a rush, while with the reserve he sharply attacked the enemy in
flank, totally defeating them. His cavalry started with drawn swords
towards the fire-spurting space. Amongst the 1500 horsemen there were
only 300 Cossacks, and in the heat of battle these deserted to the
enemy. Immediately General Karr saw this, he became so alarmed that he
set his soldiers the example of flight. All discipline at an end, they
abandoned their comrades in front, and escaped as best they could.
Pugasceff's Cossacks pursued the Russians for a distance of thirty
miles, but did not succeed in overtaking the General. Fear lent him
wings. Arrived at Bugulminszka, he learnt that Csernicseff's horsemen
had been destroyed, that the Body Guard in his own rear had been taken
prisoners, and that twenty-one guns had fallen into the hands of the
rebels. Upon hearing this bad news he was seized with such a bad attack
of the _grippe_ that they wrapped him up in pillows and sent him home by
sledge to St. Petersburg, where the four-handed card-party awaited him,
and that very night he had the misfortune to lose his XXI.[3]; upon
which the Czarina made the _bon mot_ that Karr allowed himself twice to
lose his XXI. (referring to twenty-one guns), which _bon mot_ caused
great merriment at the Russian Court.
[Footnote 3: The card next to the highest in tarok.]
After this victory, Pugasceff's star (if a demon may be said to possess
one) attained its meridian. Perhaps it might have risen yet higher had
he remained faithful to his gigantic missions, and had he not forgotten
the two passions which had led him on with such astonishing
rapidity--the one being to make the Czarina his wife, the other, to
crush the Russian aristocracy. Which of these two ideas was the boldest?
He was only separated from their realisation by a transparent film.
After Karr's defeat he had an open road to Moscow, where his appearance
was awaited by 100,000 serfs burning to shake off the yoke of the
aristocracy, and form a new Russian empire. Forty million helots awaited
their liberator in the rebel leader. Then, of a sudden, he cast away
from him the common sense he had possessed until now--for the sake of a
pair of beautiful eyes!
After the victory of Bugulminszka a large number of _envoyés_ from the
leaders of the Baskirs appeared before him, and brought him, together
with their allegiance, a pretty girl to be his wife.
The name of the maiden was Ulijanka, and she stole the heart of
Pugasceff from the Czarina. At that time the adventurer believed so
fully in his star that he did not behave with his usual severity.
Ulijanka became his favourite, and the adventurous chief appointed
Salavatké, her father, to be the ruling Prince of Baskirk. Then he
commenced to surround himself with Counts and Princes. Out of the booty
of plundered castles he clothed himself in magnificent Court costumes,
and loaded his companions with decorations taken from the heroic Russian
officers. He nominated them Generals, Colonels, Counts, and Princes. The
Cossack, Csika, his first soldier, was appointed _Generalissimus_, and
to him he entrusted half his army. He also issued roubles with his
portrait under the name of Czar Peter III., and sent out a circular note
with the words, "_Redevivus et ultor_." As he had no silver mines, he
struck the roubles out of copper, of which there was plenty about. This
good example was also followed by the Russians, who issued roubles to
the amount of millions and millions, and made payments with them
generously. Pugasceff now turned the romance of the insurrection into
the parody of a reign. Instead of advancing against the unprotected
cities of the Russian Empire, he attacked the defended strongholds, and,
in the place of pursuing the fairy picture of his dreams which had led
him thus far, he laid himself down in the mud by the side of a common
woman!
Generalissimus Csika was instructed to occupy the fort Ufa, with the
troops who were entrusted to his care. The time was January, 1774, and
it was so terribly cold that nothing like it had been recorded in
Russian chronicles. The trees of the forest split with a noise as though
a battle were proceeding, and the wild fowl fell to the ground along the
roads.
To carry on a siege under such circumstances was impossible. The
hardened earth would not permit the digging of trenches, and it was
impossible to camp on the frozen ground.
The two rebel chiefs occupied the neighbouring towns, and so cut off all
supplies from the neighbouring forests. In Orenburg they had already
eaten up the horses belonging to the garrison, and a certain Kicskoff,
the commissary, invented the idea of boiling the skins of the
slaughtered animals, cutting them into small slices and mixing them with
paste, which food was distributed amongst the soldiers, and gave rise to
the breaking out of a scorbutic disease in the fort which rendered half
the garrison incapable of work. On January the 13th, Colonel
Vallenstierna tried to break his way through the rebel lines with 2500
men, but he returned with hardly seventy. The remainder, about 2000 men,
remained on the field. At any rate, they no longer asked for food! A few
hundred hussars, however, cut their way through and carried to St.
Petersburg the news of what Czar Peter III. (who had now risen for the
seventh time from his grave) was doing! The Czarina commenced to get
tired of her adorer's conquests, so she called together her faithful
generals, and asked which of them thought it possible to undertake a
campaign in the depth of the Russian winter into the interior of the
Russian snow deserts. This did not mean playing at war, nor a triumphal
procession. It meant a battle with a furious people who, in forty years'
time, would trample upon the most powerful European troops. There were
four who replied that in Russia everything was possible which ought to
be done. The names of these four gentlemen were: Prince Galiczin,
General Bibikoff, Colonel Larionoff, and Michelson, a Swedish officer.
Their number, however, was soon reduced to two at the very commencement.
Larionoff returned home after the first battle of Bozal, where the
rebels proved victorious, whilst Bibikoff died from the hardships of the
winter campaign.
Galiczin and Michelson alone remained. The Swede had already gained fame
in the Turkish campaign from his swift and daring deeds, and when he
started from the Fort of Bozal against the rebels his sole troops
consisted of 400 hussars and 600 infantry, with four guns. With this
small force he started to the relief of the Fort of Ufa. Quickly as he
proceeded, Csika's spies were quicker still, and the rebel leader was
informed of the approach of the small body of the enemy. As he expected
that they only intended to reinforce the garrison of Ufa, he merely sent
against them 3000 men, with nine guns, to occupy the mountain passes
through which they would march on their way to Ufa. But Michelson did
not go to Ufa as was expected. He seated his men on sledges, and flew
along the plains to Csika's splendid camp. So unexpected, so daring, so
little to be credited was this move of his, that when he fell on Csika's
vanguard at one o'clock one morning nobody opposed him. The alarmed
rebels hurried headlong to the camp, and left two guns in the hands of
Michelson. The Swedish hero knew well enough that the 3000 men of the
enemy who occupied the mountain pass would at once appear in answer to
the sound of the guns, and that he would thus be caught between two
fires; so he hastily directed his men to entrench themselves beneath
their sledges in the road, and left two hundred infantry with two guns
to defend them, whilst with the remaining troops he made his way towards
the town of Csernakuka, whither Csika's troops had fled. Michelson saw
that he had no time to lose. He placed himself at the head of his
hussars, sounded the charge, and attacked the bulk of his opponents. For
this they were not prepared. The bold attack caused confusion amongst
them, and in a few moments the centre of the camp was cut through, and
the first battery captured. He then immediately turned his attention to
the two wings of the camp. After this, flight became general, and
Csika's troops were dispersed like a cloud of mosquitos, leaving behind
them forty-eight cannon and eight small guns. The victor now returned
with his small body of troops to the sledges they had left behind, and
he then entirely surrounded the 3000 rebels. Those who were not
slaughtered were captured. The victorious hero sent word to the
commander of the Ufa garrison that the road was clear, and that the
cannon taken from his opponents should be drawn thither. A hundred and
twenty versts from Ufa he reached the flying Csika. The Generalissimus
then had only forty-two officers, whilst his privates had disappeared in
every direction of the wind. Michelson got hold of them all, and if he
did not hang them it was only because on the six days' desert march not
a single tree was to be found. In the meantime, Prince Galiczin, whose
troops consisted of 6000 men, went in pursuit of Pugasceff. On this
miserable route he did not encounter the mock Czar until the beginning
of March. Pugasceff waited for his opponent in the forest of Taticseva.
This so-called stronghold had only wooden walls, a kind of ancient
fencing. It was good enough to protect the sheep from the pillaging
Baskirs, but it was not suitable for war. The genius of the rebel leader
did not desert him, and he was well able to look after himself. Round
the fences he dug trenches, where he piled up the snow, on which he
poured water. This, after being frozen, turned almost into stone, and
was, at the same time, so slippery that no one could climb over it. Here
he awaited Galiczin with a portion of his troops, while the remainder
occupied Orenburg. The Russian general approached the hiding-place of
the mock Czar cautiously. The thick fog was of service to him, and the
two opponents only perceived one another when they were standing at
firing distance. A furious hand-to-hand fight ensued. The best of the
rebel troops were there. Pugasceff was always in the front and where the
danger was greatest, but finally the Russians climbed the ice-bulwarks,
captured his guns, and drove him out of the forest. This victory cost
the life of 1000 heroic Russians, but it was a complete one! Pugasceff
abandoned the field with 4000 men and seven guns; but what was a greater
loss still than his army and his guns, was that of the superstitious
glamour which had surrounded him until now. The belief in his
incapability of defeat, that was lost too! The revengeful Czar who had
but yesterday commenced his campaign, now had to fly to the desert,
which promised him no refuge. It was only then that the real horrors of
the campaign commenced. It was a war such as can be imagined in Russia
only, where in the thousands and thousands of square miles of borderless
desert scantily distributed hordes wander about, all hating Russian
supremacy, and all born gun in hand. Pugasceff took refuge amongst these
people. Once again he turned on Galiczin at Kargozki. He was again
defeated, and lost his last gun. His sweetheart, Ulijanka, was also
taken captive--that is, if she did not betray him! From here he escaped
precipitately with his cavalry across the river Mjaes.
Here Siberia commences, and here Russia has no longer villages, but only
military settlements which are divided from each other by a day's march,
across plains and the ancient forests, along the ranges of the Ural
Mountains--the so-called factories.
The Woszkrezenszki factory, situated one day's walk into the desert, is
divided by uncut forests from the Szimszki factory, in both of which
cinnamon and tin paints are made, and here are to be seen the powder
factory of Usiska and the bomb factory of Szatkin, where the exiled
Russian convicts work. At the meeting of the rivers are the small towns
of Stepnàja, Troiczka Uszt, Magitnàja, Petroluskàja, Kojelga, guarded by
native Cossacks, whilst others are garrisoned by disgraced battalions.
Hither came Pugasceff with the remnants of his army. Galiczin pursued
him for some time, but finally came to the conclusion that in this
uninhabited country, where the solitary road is only indicated by
snow-covered trenches, he could not, with his regular troops, reach an
opponent whose tactics were to run away, as far and as fast as possible.
Pugasceff rallied to him all the tribes along the Ural district, who
deserted their homesteads and followed him.
The winter suddenly disappeared, and those mild, short April days
commenced which one can only realise in Siberia, when at night the water
freezes, while in the daytime the melting snow covers the expanse of
waste, every mountain stream becomes a torrent, and the traveller finds
in the place of every brook a vast sea. The runaway might still proceed
by sledge, but the pursuer would only find before him fathomless
morasses. Only one leader had the courage to pursue Pugasceff even into
this land--this was Michelson. Just as the Siberian wolf who has tasted
the blood of the wild boar does not swerve from the track, but pursues
him even amongst reeds and morasses, so the daring leader chased his
opponent from plain to plain. He never had more than 1000 men, cavalry,
artillery, and gunners all told. Every one had to carry provisions for
two weeks, and 100 cartridges. The cavalry had guns as well as sabres,
so that they might also fight on foot, and the artillery were supplied
with axes, so that, if necessary, they might serve as carpenters, and
all prepared to swim should the necessity arise. With this small force
Michelson followed Pugasceff amid the horde of insurrectionary tribes,
surrounded on every side by people upon whose mercy he could not count,
whose language he did not understand, and whose motto was death. Yet he
went amongst them in cold blood, as the sailor braves the terrors of the
ocean. On the 7th of May he was attacked by the father of the pretty
Ulijanka, near the Szimszki factory, with 2000 Baskirs, who were about
to join Pugasceff. Michelson dispersed them, captured their guns, and
discovered from the Baskir captives that Beloborodoff, one of the dukes
created by Pugasceff, was approaching with a large force of renegade
Russian soldiers. Michelson caught up with them near the Jeresen stream,
and drove them into the Szatkin factory. Riding all by himself, so close
to them that his voice could be heard, he commenced by admonishing them
to rejoin the standard of the Czarina. He was fired at more than 2000
times from the windows of the factory, but when they saw that he was
invulnerable they suddenly threw open the gates and joined his forces.
From them he discovered the whereabouts of the mock Czar, who had at the
time once more recovered himself, had captured three strongholds,
Magitnàja, Stepnàja, and Petroluskàja, and was just then besieging
Troiczka. This place he took before the arrival of Michelson, who found
in lieu of a stronghold nothing but ruins, dead bodies, and Russian
officers hanging from the trees. Pugasceff heard of the approach of his
opponent, and, with savage cunning, laid a snare to capture the daring
pursuer. He dressed his soldiers in the uniforms of the dead Russian
soldiers, and sent messengers to Michelson in the name of Colonel Colon
that he should join him beyond Varlamora. Michelson only perceived the
trick when his vanguard was attacked and two of his guns captured.
Although surrounded, he immediately fell upon the flower of Pugasceff's
guard, and cut his way through just where the enemy was strongest. The
net was torn asunder. It was not strong enough. Pugasceff fled before
Michelson, and, with a few hundred followers, escaped into the interior
of Siberia, near the lake of Arga. All of a sudden Michelson found
Szalavatka at his rear with Baskir troops who had already captured the
Szatkin factory, and put to the sword men, women, and children.
Michelson turned back suddenly, and found the Baskir camp strongly
intrenched near the river Aj. The enemy had destroyed the bridges over
the river, and confidently awaited the Imperial troops. At daybreak
Michelson ordered up forty horsemen and placed a rifleman behind the
saddle of each, telling them to swim the river and defend themselves
until the remainder of the troops joined them. His commands were carried
out to the letter amidst the most furious firing of the enemy, and the
Russians gained the other side of the river without a bridge, drawing
with them their cannon bound to trees. The Baskirs were dispersed and
fled, but whilst Michelson was pursuing them with his cavalry he
received news that his artillery was attacked by a fresh force, and he
had to return to their aid. Pugasceff himself, who again was the
aggressor, stood with a regular army on the plains. The battle lasted
till late at night in the forest. Finally the rebels retreated, and
Michelson discovered that his opponents meant to take by surprise the
Fort of Ufa. He speedily cut his way through the forest, and when
Pugasceff thought himself a day's distance from his opponent, he found
him face to face outside the Fort of Ufa. Michelson proved again
victorious, but by this time his soldiers had not a decent piece of
clothing left, nor a wearable shoe, and each man had not more than two
charges. He therefore had to retreat to Ufa for fresh ammunition. It
appears that Michelson was just such a dreaded opponent to Pugasceff as
the man not born of a woman was to Macbeth. Immediately he disappeared
from the horizon, he arose anew, and at each encounter with the
pretender beat him right and left. When Michelson drove him away from
Ufa, Pugasceff totally defeated the Russian leaders approaching from
other directions, London, Melgunoff, Duve, and Jacubovics were swept
away before him, and he burnt before their very eyes the town of Birszk.
With drawn sword he occupied the stronghold of Ossa, where he acquired
guns, and, advancing with lightning rapidity, he stood before Kazan,
which is one of the most noted towns of the province; it is the seat of
an Archbishop, and there is kept the crown which the Russian Czars use
at their coronation. This crown was required by the mock Czar. If he
could get hold of it, and the Archbishop of Kazan would place it on his
head, who could deny that he was the anointed Czar? Generals Brand and
Banner had but 1500 musketry for the defence of Kazan, but the citizens
of the town took also to the guns to defend themselves from within their
ancient walls. The day before the bombardment, General Potemkin,
accompanied by General Larionoff, arrived at Kazan. The Imperialists had
as many generals and colonels in their camp as Pugasceff had corporals
who had deserted their colours, yet the horde led by the rebel stormed
the stronghold of the generals. Pugasceff was the first to scale the
wall, standard in hand, upon which the generals took refuge in the
citadel. Larionoff fled, and on his flight to Nijni Novgorod did not
once look back.
Pugasceff captured the town of Kazan, and gave it up to pillage. The
Archbishop of Kazan received him before the cathedral, bestowed upon him
gold to the value of half-a-million roubles, and promised that he would
place the crown on his head immediately he procured it; it being in the
citadel. Pugasceff set fire to the town in all directions, as he wanted
to effect the surrender of the citadel garrison by that means. Just at
this moment Michelson was on his way. The heroic General hardly allowed
his troops time for rest, but again started in pursuit of Pugasceff. No
news of him was heard, his footsteps alone could be traced. At Burnova
he was attacked by a gang of rebels, whom he dispersed, but they were
not the troops of Pugasceff. At Brajevana he came upon a detachment, but
this also was not the one he was looking for. He then turned towards the
Fort of Ossa, where he found a group of Baskir horsemen, whom he
dispersed, capturing many others, from whom he learnt that Pugasceff had
crossed the river Kuma; and he knew that he would find the rebel at
Kazan. He hastened after him, meeting right and left with camps and
troops belonging to his adventurous opponent. He found no boats on the
river Kuma, so he swam it. Two other rivers lay in his way, but neither
of these prevented his progress, and when he arrived at Arksz he heard
firing in the direction of Kazan. Allowing but one hour's repose to his
troops, he marched through the night, and at daybreak the thick dark
smoke on the horizon told him that Kazan was in flames. Pugasceff's
patrols communicated to their leader that Michelson was again at hand.
The mock Czar cursed upon hearing the news. Was it a devil who was again
at his heels, when he believed him 300 miles off? He decided that this
must not be known to the garrison, who had been forced into the citadel.
He collected from his troops those whom he could spare, and stationed
them in the town of Taziczin, seven miles from Kazan, to prevent the
advance of the dreaded enemy. Just as he was proclaiming himself Czar
Peter III. in the market-place of Taziczin, a miserable-looking woman
rushed in, and fell at his feet, embracing him, and covering him with
kisses. This woman was Pugasceff's wife, who thought her husband lost
long ago. They had been married very young, and Pugasceff himself
believed her no longer living, but the poor woman recognised him by his
voice. Pugasceff did not lose his presence of mind, but, gently lifting
the woman up, he said to his officers:--"Look after this woman; her
husband was a great friend of mine and I owe him much." But every one
knew that the sham-Czar was no other than the husband of Marianka, and
no doubt the appearance of the peasant woman told on the spirits of the
insurgent troops. The most bitter and decisive battle of the
insurrection awaited them. The night divided the two armies, and it was
only in the morning that Michelson could force his way into the town,
whence he sent word to the people of Kazan to come to his assistance.
Pugasceff again attacked him with embittered fury, and as he could not
dislodge him he withdrew the remainder of his troops from Kazan and
encamped on the plain. The third day of the battle, fortune turned to
the side of Pugasceff. They fought for four hours, and Michelson was
already surrounded, when the hero put himself at the head of his small
army and made a desperate rush upon Pugasceff.
The insurrectionary forces were broken asunder. They left 3000 men on
the battlefield, and 5000 captives fell into the hands of the victors.
Kazan was free, but the Russian empire was not so yet.
Pugasceff, trodden a hundred times to the ground, rose once more. After
his defeat at Kazan, he fled, not towards the interior of Siberia, but
straight towards the heart of the Russian empire--towards Moscow. Out of
his army which was split asunder at Kazan he formed 100 battalions, and
with a small number of these, crossed the Volga. Immediately he appeared
on the opposite banks of the river, the entire province was enkindled:
the peasantry rose in revolt against the aristocracy. Within a district
of 100 miles every castle was destroyed, and one town after the other
opened its gates to the mock Czar. The further he advanced the more his
army increased and the faster his insurrectionary red flag travelled
towards the gates of Moscow. On their way the rebels occupied forts,
pillaged and destroyed the towns, and the troops which were sent against
them were captured. Before the Fort of Zariczin an Imperial force
challenged their advance. In the ensuing battle, every Russian officer
fell, and the entire force was captured. Again Pugasceff had 25,000 men
and a large number of guns, and his road would have been clear to Moscow
if the ubiquitous Michelson had not been at his back! This wonderful
hero did not dread his opponents, however numerous, and like the panther
which drives before him the herd of buffaloes, so he drove with his
small body Pugasceff's tremendous army. The rebel felt that this man had
a magic power over him, and that he was in league with fate. Finally, he
found a convenient place outside Sarepta, and here he awaited his
opponent. It is a height which a steep mountain footpath divides, and
this path is intersected by another. Pugasceff placed a portion of his
best troops on the ascending path, whilst to the riff-raff he entrusted
his two wings. If Michelson had caught the bull by the horns with his
ordinary tactics, he ought to have cut through the little footpath
leading to the steep road, and if he had succeeded then, the troops
which were at the point of intersection would have fallen between two
fires, from which they could not have escaped. But Michelson changed his
system of attack. Whilst the bombardment was going on, he, together with
Colonel Melin, rushed upon the wings of the opposing forces. Pugasceff
saw himself fall into the pit he had dug for others. The rebel army,
terror-struck, rushed towards his camp. The forces that flew to his
rescue fell at the mouth of his guns, and he had to cut his way through
his own troops in order to escape from the trap. This was his last
battle! He escaped with sixty men, crossed the Volga, and hid amongst
the bushes of an uninhabited plain.
The Russian troops surrounded the plain, whence Pugasceff and his men
could not escape. And yet he still dreamt of future glory! Amidst the
great desert his old ambition came back to him--he pictured the golden
dome of the Kremlin, and the conquered Czarina. And with these dreams he
suffered the tortures of hunger. For days and days he had no nourishment
but horse-flesh roasted on the reeds, which was made palatable by
meadow-grass in place of salt. One night, as he was sitting over the
fire and roasting his meagre dinner on a wooden spit, one of the three
Cossacks who formed his body-guard said to him, "You have played your
comedy long enough, Pugasceff!" The adventurer sprang up from his place.
"Slave, I am your Czar!" and whilst saying this he slew the speaker. The
two others made a rush at him, struck him to the ground, bound him, tied
him to a horse, and thus took him to Ural Sorodok and delivered him to
General Szuvarof. It was the very same Ural Sorodok whence he had
started upon his bold undertaking. From here he was taken to Moscow. The
sentence passed upon him was that he should be cut up alive into small
pieces. The Czarina confirmed the sentence, though her beautiful eyes
had had great share of responsibility for the sinner's fate. The hangman
was more merciful. It was not specified in the sentence where he should
commence the work of slaughter, so he began at once with the head, and
for this oversight he was sent to Siberia! Katharine about this time
changed her favourite. Instead of Orloff, Potemkin, a fine fellow, was
chosen.
TAMERLAN THE TARTAR
CHAPTER I
All around, as far as eye could range, not a palm, nor a plant, nor a
blade of grass was to be seen. From one end of the horizon to the other,
nothing on which the rising sun could cast a shadow! There was only a
small hillock in the centre of this desert, and against this a man was
resting, spreading out his hands upon the square stone which stood upon
it. He had either just risen from sleep or from the recital of prayer,
and, kneeling, he greeted the rising sun. His dress was similar to that
of an Eastern mendicant, for he was covered with a long woollen cloak,
and one could see through his wide-hanging sleeves the wounds on his
arms which had been scorched by the sun. He was short, and lame with a
crippled foot, and, although his hair and beard were already white, his
face, which was ruddy and youthful, belied his age, for on his forehead
no wrinkles were to be seen, and his eyes were bright and sparkling. The
expression of his face was as grave and gentle as that of a philosopher
or a pilgrim.
To the eastern horizon of the desert, along the stony plain of Szivasz,
a red pyramid arrested the sun's rays, and appeared through the morning
mists like a red shadow, whilst westward, a long black streak of cloud
seemed to hover, which the morning breeze was powerless to agitate and
the light of dawn could not kindle into colour. Throughout the whole
extent of the plains not a human voice was to be heard, but in the
melancholy quietude some continuous and dismal sounds attracted the ear,
proceeding apparently from the interior of the earth. Far and wide as
the waste extended were these heartrending and distressing noises to be
heard. It seemed as though the earth were sobbing, or as though one
could recognise the sighs and groans ascending from lost souls in
purgatory, numbed into faint echoes in their transit from the depths
below. Or even as though the air were filled with the loud screams of
evil spirits, coming and going one knew not whence or whither. On the
face of the lonely wanderer no expression of fear was visible. He did
not shrink shudderingly from the phantom of the plain, nor from the
desolate picture spread before him. If he could pass the night alone
amidst these ghostly surroundings, was it likely that he would be afraid
in the sunlight?
He knelt once again upon the hillock, touching the stone with his
forehead, speaking in low murmurs as though into the sand:
"Oh! Wisdom beyond all wisdoms! grant to me to acquire thy knowledge
that I may wander throughout the world, and accomplish what Thou hast
left unfinished."
Whilst saying this he rose, and, with dignified mien, gazed around the
expanse of plain. These plains were the blessed soil of Irán. But
yesterday it was the fourth paradise of Asia, while to-day it is a
desert.
The little hillock was the sepulchre of Abu Mozlim who killed half a
million of people in his fierce and continuous fights.
The philosopher, wanderer, and mendicant who rested upon it was Timur
(the man of the iron sword), nicknamed also Timur Lenk (the lame), who
in the language of flatterers was called Gurgan (the high and mighty
lord), Szabil Kirán (the master of all time), or Djeihangir (the
conqueror of the world)--one of the greatest of all conquerors. On his
head rested the crowns of twenty-seven countries, and from the Indus to
the Volga twenty-seven nationalities groaned under his yoke.
It was he himself, the dreaded Tamerlan. The red pyramid to the east was
a pyramid of skulls, which had been piled up from the heads of 90,000
soldiers captured during the war, whilst the immovable cloud towards the
west was the smoke rising from Szivasz, which only two days ago was
inhabited by 100,000 people and to-day held as many graves!
The hollow murmuring from the centre of the earth was caused by the
cries of 4000 Armenians, whom the victorious conqueror had caused to be
buried alive in one vast timber-lined grave, so that their screams could
be heard for some time. It was their moans which came from beneath the
earth, whilst the cripple rested on his club, made from the horn of the
buffalo, and gazed with a satisfied air around the desert wastes which,
yesterday a paradise, had been battered down by his horses' hoofs into a
dismal plain. What he saw and heard was delight to his heart. The air of
the desert mourned, and the earth moaned in concert.