CAMP FIRES.
Dschingiz Khan had died in 1227, and by the year 1234 his son and
successor, Oktai, had completed the subjugation of Northern China. Two
years later he sent his nephew Batu westwards at the head of 500,000
men, and in less than six years the latter had overrun nearly one
quarter of the circumference of the earth.
The boundless steppes of Asia, and the lands lying between the River
Ural and the Dnieper, with all their various peoples, were speedily
brought under his sway. In the autumn of 1237 the Mongolian catapults
had reduced Riazan to a heap of ruins; Moscow perished in the flames;
and with the capture of Kieff, then the handsomest and best fortified
city of Northern Europe, all Russia sank under the yoke of the Mongols,
who ruled her for centuries. Kieff had fallen towards the end of 1240,
and Batu had then divided his forces, sending 50,000 men to Poland,
where they burnt Cracow and Breslau, and then proceeded to Silesia,
where, on April 9th, they defeated an army of Germans, Poles, and
Bohemians near Liegnitz; they then devastated Moravia, and entering
Hungary on the north-west, presently rejoined Batu, who himself had made
a straight line from Kieff for Hungary, entering it, as already said, by
the pass of Verecz, on the north-east.
The third division of Mongols had gone south, skirting the eastern
Carpathians and entering Transylvania at two different points.
One portion of this division had rejoined Batu at the river Sajó, in
time for the pitched battle now imminent.
When first the Hungarian camp was pitched Batu had surveyed it from an
eminence with a grim smile of satisfaction.
"There are a good many of them!" he exclaimed, "but they can't get away!
They have penned themselves up as if they were so many sheep in a fold!"
With the return of Duke Kálmán after his victory at the bridge, all
danger was believed to be over for the night, and save for a few
merry-makers, the exultant army slept profoundly. There were few
watchers but the King, the Duke, the Archbishop, and the few others
gathered in the royal tent.
On the other side of the Sajó a different and wilder scene was being
enacted.
The night was dark, but the Mongol camp was brilliantly illuminated by
the blaze of a bonfire so huge, that its light shone far and wide.
It was never the Khan's way to extinguish his camp fires; quite the
contrary. He wished his enemy to see them, and to suppose that his army
was stationary.
Thanks to his innumerable spies, he was well aware of all that had taken
place early in the night, and had not been in the least surprised by the
recent sortie. It was, in fact, just what he had wished to provoke, by
way of diverting the attention of the Hungarians from that which was
taking place farther up the river.
If a few hundred scape-goats had perished, what matter? there were
plenty more to take their place. And they were not even Mongols, but
slaves, Russians, Kuns, etc., who had been forced into his service.
While these wretches, with the trembling Libor perforce among them, were
bearing the brunt of the Hungarian onset, and being thoroughly beaten,
Batu had sent a large force across the Sajó farther up and this, under
cover of the darkness, was now stealthily drawing nearer and nearer to
the Hungarian camp. It moved forward in absolute silence, and without
attracting any notice.
Batu and several of his chief leaders were just now standing on a low
hill, all mounted, armed, and ready for battle. Below was the Mongol
host, mounted also and armed with bows, spears, and short, curved
swords. A wild, terrible-looking host they were, short of stature, broad
in the chest, flat in the face; with small, far-apart eyes, and flat
noses. They were clad in ox-hide so thick as to be proof against most
weapons, and consisting of small pieces, like scales, sewn together. So
they are described by Thomas, Archdeacon of Spalatro, who had but too
good opportunity of seeing what they were like. He adds that their
helmets were either of leather or iron, and that their black and white
flags were surmounted by a bunch of wool; that their horses, ridden
bare-backed and unshod, were small but sturdy, well inured to fatigue
and fasting, and as nimble and sure-footed in climbing rocks as the
chamois. Scanty food and short rest sufficed these hardy animals even
after three days of fatigue.
Their masters were not accustomed to much in the way of
creature-comforts for themselves. They carried nothing in the way of
stores or supplies, which gave them great advantage in the matter of
speed; they ate no bread, and lived on flesh, blood, and mare's milk.
Wherever they went, they dragged along with them a large number of armed
captives, especially Kuns, whom they forced into battle, and killed
whenever they did not fight as desperately as they desired. They did not
themselves care to rush into danger, but were quite content to let their
captives do the worst of the fighting while they reaped the victory. In
spite of their enormous numbers they made no noise whether they were in
camp, on the march, or on the field of battle.
Thus far Archdeacon Thomas.
When to this description we add the fact that they had had continuous
practice in warfare for years past, that a career of well-nigh unbroken
victory had given them perfect self-confidence, while it spread such
terror among those whom they attacked as paralysed the courage even of
the stoutest hearts, it is not difficult to understand how it was that
everything fell before them, and they were able to found an empire
vaster than any which had before, or has since, existed.
But to return to the Khan and his train of chiefs, among whom was to be
seen Libor the Knéz--not the Libor of old days, but a much less
comfortable-looking individual. Mongol fare did not seem to have agreed
with him too well, for he looked worn and wasted, and his every movement
betrayed his nervousness. Yet he was at the Khan's side, perfectly safe,
and surely a hundred-fold more fortunate than the miserable captives
whom the Mongols held so cheap that they cared not a jot whether they
lived or died.
Libor was a Mongol now; he wore a round helmet of leather, carried a
scimitar, rode one of the tough little Mongol horses, and was in high
favour with his terrible master.
Batu was an undersized man, and the reverse of stout. His eyes, set far
apart and slant-wise, were small, but they burnt like live coals, and
were as restless as those of a lynx. His low forehead, flat nose,
fearfully large mouth, and projecting ears, made him altogether
strikingly like the figures, in gold on a black ground, to be seen on
antique Chinese furniture.
He was marked out from those about him, however, by his dignified
bearing, and by the pure white of his leathern garments.
It is true that his dignity was of the lion-like order, animal, that is
to say, rather than human; but it was very pronounced. And there was a
sort of rude splendour and glitter in his costume, too; for the white
leather, the fur of which was turned inwards, was covered all over with
strange designs, looking like so many dragons or other imaginary
monsters.
He was mounted on a slim, dapple-brown horse, of purest breed, and all
his arms, even his bow, were profusely decorated with precious stones.
Of all the ape-faced circle, there is no denying that he was the best
looking ape of them all, even if we include Libor, who was dainty enough
in appearance, though fear just now was making him not indeed like an
ape, but like a large hare, with quivering nostrils!
The camp was far from deserted, in spite of the large force detached,
for there could not have been altogether fewer than 300,000 Mongols on
the Sajó, and in addition, there were nearly half as many more of the
miserable beings who had been first conquered and then forced to join
the great host. Round about the hill where stood the Khan were
multitudes of felt or leather tents, and thousands of temporary
mud-huts, for the trees afforded but little shelter as yet, it being
now about the middle of April. Tents and huts were full of armed men,
also of women, who wore the scantiest of clothing, and of children, who
wore no clothing at all.
Besides these, there were many women captives, who lay about in groups
under the trees, with ears and noses cut off, the picture of exhaustion
and misery, and so brutalised by slavery and suffering that they looked
more like a herd of mutilated animals than human beings.
Any good-looking women captured by the Mongols were given up to their
own women, who fell upon them like furies, tortured without mercy, and
then murdered all but those wanted as slaves.
The camp extended far into the depths of the wood, where the chiefs kept
order such as it was, with their whips.
As Batu reached the top of the hill, his harsh voice was to be heard
giving some peremptory order, at which those about him bent their heads
low in respectful submission, and a dozen women, his wives, appeared
upon the scene, muffled up in white woollen garments, and mounted upon
beautiful horses, which were smothered in fringes, straps, etc., of
leather. They were followed by an armed guard, and preceded, oriental
fashion, by a band of singers chanting a melancholy dirge.
They had come to take their leave of the Khan, who was sending them to
his home, and on reaching the foot of the hill they were helped to
dismount. Whereupon they threw back their snow-white veils, which were
of wool like their other wraps, and Batu Khan looked at them in dead
silence. There was no trace either of pain, or pleasure, or of any other
emotion, unless it were vanity and ambition, upon his wild features.
The women burst into a furious fit of weeping; but it was evidently the
result of great effort, not of any irrepressible distress. Men are much
like overgrown children, and have always liked to deceive themselves and
be deceived; and this weeping and lamentation were the proper thing, the
conventional way of saying "farewell!"
And yet, if they but looked on themselves, the sight was surely enough
to move anyone to tears; for these women were all strikingly beautiful,
and their beauty was enhanced by an expression--and this not forced--of
profound sorrow and dejection.
Who they were, and whence they came--whether they were Russian girls
from the Volga and Don, Caucasians from the Caspian, fair Slavonians, or
white-faced Wallachians, who could say? But all were beautiful, all had
an air of distinction about them, and all looked overwhelmed with woe
unutterable.
They gathered round the Khan, and his horse pricked its ears and
whinnied as if it would take part in the proceedings; for, though Batu's
horses were all his friends and tent-mates, far more beloved than his
people, this one was an especial favourite, its sire, so the story went,
having lived to the age of a hundred.
When he had had enough of the ceremonial weeping, Batu raised his hand,
as who should say, "That will do! You have done your duty, now you can
go!"
And instantly the sobs were checked, and smiles were forced to take
their place, while the poor goods and chattels raised their hands
towards their master, but whether as a mere token of farewell, whether
in blessing, or perchance in secret cursing, who could tell!
Another signal and away they hurried down the hill; and a few moments
after the white figures had disappeared out of the glare and were lost
to sight in the recesses of the wood.
The women gone, Batu put spurs to his horse and raced down the slope,
his chiefs following as best they might. With the light flashing
blood-red about him, with his spear quivering uplifted above his head,
himself and his horse absolutely one, he dashed on with the rush of a
whirlwind, and wherever he went he seemed to say, "Look and admire!" And
indeed, the Khan looked his best, when he was thus exhibiting his
horsemanship, and in spite of his ape-like features, might almost have
passed for some gallant, if wild cavalier.
He and his train galloped away into the darkness, followed by a select
body of mounted men; and as soon as they were out of sight, the
remaining squadrons were drawn up in regular order. Tents were taken
down, and they and their belongings were packed on horses or in waggons,
and in a short time, though the bonfire still blazed, it cast its light
upon a deserted camp.
Followed by a herd of women, the entire force moved in dead silence
towards the Sajó, where Batu had his first line of battle.
Day was beginning to break when the Hungarian camp was roused by
startling cries, and those who rushed from the King's tent to learn the
meaning of them were met by terror-stricken shouts of "The Tartars! The
Tartars are upon us!" "They are yonder, close at hand!" "The guard at
the bridge has been overpowered, massacred, put to flight," etc.
Looking out between the wooden walls, Master Peter descried at the
distance of about a quarter of an hour's march, a dark mass of something
which appeared to be in the form of a crescent, but of a size too vast
to be measured by the eye. It was like a wall of stone, as solid, as
silent, and as motionless; and for a moment he was in doubt as to what
it might be, until the neighing of a horse, and the briefer, rarer sound
of a signal-horn brought the truth home to him.
The Mongols had come up in the night; the camp was surrounded on three
sides; and nothing but the most desperate determination could save them!
So much was evident even to his inexperienced eyes, and the silence of
these savage folk, who could howl like the very wolves at other times,
had something so weird and terrible about it that Master Peter was not
the only brave man to feel his heart quake and his blood run cold.
The victory of the Duke and Ugrin but a few hours before had been
delusive indeed, for they had hardly returned in triumph to the camp
when Batu sent down to the bridge seven of the gigantic engines of war
which played so large a part in the Mongol invasion.
Suddenly, without the least warning, the detachment left on guard found
itself assailed by a fierce and heavy storm of stones and pieces of
rock; and what added to their terror was the fact that they could not
see their enemy, and that there were no stones or rocks anywhere near
the river. Seized by superstitious panic, those who escaped being
crushed or wounded fled back to the camp, where instantly all was uproar
and confusion.
Master Peter rushed back to the King as fast as he could for the
turmoil, the narrow ways, and the tent-ropes; and indignation filled his
soul at some of the sights he saw: luxurious young nobles, for instance,
making their leisurely toilets, combing and arranging their hair, having
their armour put on with the greatest care, and finally drawing on new
gloves! What he heard during his hurried passage was not much more
reassuring. There was plenty of courage and confidence expressed; plenty
of contempt for the despicable foe; plenty of assurance that Mongol
spears and arrows would prove ineffectual against iron armour; but also
there was among some contempt, openly expressed, for their own leaders,
though they looked upon the victory as already won.
"It will be a hard day's work!" muttered Peter Szirmay to himself, while
his thoughts flew to Dora in her lonely castle. He had little doubt that
the Hungarians must conquer in the end, in spite of the huge odds
against them, but still--! and even if they did, he himself might fall!
What would become of her?
"God and the Holy Virgin protect her!"