Next morning the king marched farther and reached Lublin. There he
received information that Sapyeha had repulsed Boguslav’s invasion, and
was advancing with a considerable army; he left Lublin the same day,
merely strengthening the garrison of that place.
The next object of his expedition was Zamost; for if he could occupy
that strong fortress he would acquire a fixed base for further war, and
such a notable preponderance that he might look for a successful end
with all hope. There were various opinions touching Zamost. Those Poles
still remaining with Karl contended that it was the strongest fortress
in the Commonwealth, and brought as proof that it had withstood all the
forces of Hmelnitski.
But since Karl saw that the Poles were in no wise skilled in
fortification, and considered places strong which in other lands would
scarcely be held in the third rank; since he knew also that in Poland
no fortress was properly mounted,—that is, there were neither walls
kept as they should be, not earthworks, nor suitable arms,—he felt well
touching Zamost. He counted also on the spell of his name, on the fame
of an invincible leader, and finally on treaties. With treaties, which
every magnate in the Commonwealth was authorized to make, or at least
permitted himself to make, Karl had so far effected more than with
arms. As an adroit man, and one wishing to know with whom he had to
deal, he collected carefully all information touching the owner of
Zamost. He inquired about his ways, his inclinations, his wit and
fancy.
Yan Sapyeha, who at that time by his treason still spotted the name, to
the great affliction of Sapyeha the hetman, gave the fullest
explanations to the king concerning Zamoyski. They spent whole hours in
council. But Yan Sapyeha did not consider that it would be easy for the
king to captivate the master of Zamost.
“He cannot be tempted with money,” said Yan, “for he is terribly rich.
He cares not for dignities, and never wished them, even when they
sought him themselves. As to titles, I have heard him at the court
reprimand Des Noyers, the queen’s secretary, because in addressing him
he said, ‘Mon prince.’ ‘I am not a prince,’ answered he, ‘but I have
had archdukes as prisoners in my Zamost.’ The truth is, however, that
not he had them, but his grandfather, who among our people is surnamed
the Great.”
“If he will open the gates of Zamost, I will offer him something which
no Polish king could offer.”
It did not become Yan Sapyeha to ask what that might be; he merely
looked with curiosity at Karl Gustav. But the king understood the look,
and answered, gathering, as was his wont, his hair behind his ears,—
“I will offer him the province of Lyubelsk as an independent
principality; a crown will tempt him. No one of you could resist such a
temptation, not even the present voevoda of Vilna.”
“Endless is the bounty of your Royal Grace,” replied Sapyeha, not
without a certain irony in his voice.
But Karl answered with a cynicism peculiar to himself: “I give it, for
it is not mine.”
Sapyeha shook his head: “He is an unmarried man and has no sons. A
crown is dear to him who can leave it to his posterity.”
“What means do you advise me to take?”
“I think that flattery would effect most. The man is not too
quick-witted, and may be easily over-reached. It is necessary to
represent that on him alone depends the pacification of the
Commonwealth; it is necessary to tell him that he alone may save it
from war, from all defeats and future misfortunes; and that especially
by opening the gates. If the fish will swallow that little hook, we
shall be in Zamost; otherwise not.”
“Cannon remain as the ultimate argument.”
“H’m! To that argument there is something in Zamost with which to give
answer. There is no lack of heavy guns there; we have none, and when
thaws come it will be impossible to bring them.”
“I have heard that the infantry in the fortress is good; but there is a
lack of cavalry.”
“Cavalry are needed only in the open field, and besides, since
Charnyetski’s army, as is shown, is not crushed, he can throw in one or
two squadrons for the use of the fortress.”
“You see nothing save difficulties.”
“But I trust ever in the lucky star of your Royal Grace.”
Yan Sapyeha was right in foreseeing that Charnyetski would furnish
Zamost with cavalry needful for scouting and seizing informants. In
fact, Zamoyski had enough of his own, and needed no assistance
whatever; but Charnyetski sent the two squadrons which had suffered
most at Golamb—that is, the Shemberk and Lauda—to the fortress to rest,
recruit themselves and change their horses, which were fearfully cut
up. Sobiepan received them hospitably, and when he learned what famous
soldiers were in them he exalted these men to the skies, covered them
with gifts, and seated them every day at his table.
But who shall describe the joy and emotion of Princess Griselda at
sight of Pan Yan and Pan Michael, the most valiant colonels of her
great husband? Both fell at her feet shedding warm tears at sight of
the beloved lady; and she could not restrain her weeping. How many
reminiscences of those old Lubni days were connected with them; when
her husband, the glory and love of the people, full of the strength of
life, ruled with power a wild region, rousing terror amid barbarism
with one frown of his brow, like Jove. Such were those times not long
past; but where are they now? To-day the lord is in his grave,
barbarians have taken the land, and she, the widow, sits on the ashes
of happiness, of greatness, living only with her sorrow and with
prayer.
Still in those reminiscences sweetness was so mingled with bitterness
that the thoughts of those three flew gladly to times that were gone.
They spoke then of their past lives, of those places which their eyes
were never to see, of the past wars, finally of the present times of
defeat and God’s anger.
“If our prince were alive,” said Pan Yan, “there would be another
career for the Commonwealth. The Cossacks would be rubbed out, the
Trans-Dnieper would be with the Commonwealth, and the Swede would find
his conqueror. God has ordained as He willed of purpose to punish us
for sins.”
“Would that God might raise up a defender in Pan Charnyetski!” said
Princess Griselda.
“He will!” cried Pan Michael. “As our prince was a head above other
lords, so Charnyetski is not at all like other leaders. I know the two
hetmans of the kingdom, and Sapyeha of Lithuania. They are great
soldiers; but there is something uncommon in Charnyetski; you would
say, he is an eagle, not a man. Though kindly, still all fear him; even
Pan Zagloba in his presence forgets his jokes frequently. And how he
leads his troops and moves them, passes imagination. It cannot be
otherwise than that a great warrior will rise in the Commonwealth.”
“My husband, who knew Charnyetski as a colonel, prophesied greatness
for him,” said the princess.
“It was said indeed that he was to seek a wife in our court,” put in
Pan Michael.
“I do not remember that there was talk about that,” answered the
princess.
In truth she could not remember, for there had never been anything of
the kind; but Pan Michael, cunning at times, invented this, wishing to
turn the conversation to her ladies and learn something of Anusia; for
to ask directly he considered improper, and in view of the majesty of
the princess, too confidential. But the stratagem failed. The princess
turned her mind again to her husband and the Cossack wars; then the
little knight thought: “Anusia has not been here, perhaps, for God
knows how many years.” And he asked no more about her. He might have
asked the officers, but his thoughts and occupations were elsewhere.
Every day scouts gave notice that the Swedes were nearer; hence
preparations were made for defence. Pan Yan and Pan Michael received
places on the walls, as officers knowing the Swedes and warfare against
them. Zagloba roused courage in the men, and told tales of the enemy to
those who had no knowledge of them yet; and among warriors in the
fortress there were many such, for so far the Swedes had not come to
Zamost.
Zagloba saw through Pan Zamoyski at once; the latter conceived an
immense love for the bulky noble, and turned to him on all questions,
especially since he heard from Princess Griselda how Prince Yeremi had
venerated Zagloba and called him _vir incomparabilis_ (the incomparable
man). Every day then at table all kept their ears open; and Zagloba
discoursed of ancient and modern times, told of the wars with the
Cossacks, of the treason of Radzivill, and how he himself had brought
Pan Sapyeha into prominence among men.
“I advised him,” said he, “to carry hempseed in his pocket, and use a
little now and then. He has grown so accustomed to this that he takes a
grain every little while, puts it in his mouth, bites it, breaks it,
eats it, spits out the husk. At night when he wakes he does the same.
His wit is so sharp now from hempseed that his greatest intimates do
not recognize him.”
“How is that?” asked Zamoyski.
“There is an oil in hempseed through which the man who eats it
increases in wit.”
“God bless you,” said one of the colonels; “but oil goes to the
stomach, not to the head.”
“Oh, there is a method in things!” answered Zagloba. “It is needful in
this case to drink as much wine as possible; oil, being the lighter, is
always on top; wine, which goes to the head of itself, carries with it
every noble substance. I have this secret from Lupul the Hospodar,
after whom, as is known to you, gentlemen, the Wallachians wished to
create me hospodar; but the Sultan, whose wish is that the hospodar
should not have posterity, placed before me conditions to which I could
not agree.”
“You must use a power of hempseed yourself,” said Sobiepan.
“I do not need it at all, your worthiness; but from my whole heart I
advise you to take it.”
Hearing these bold words, some were frightened lest the starosta might
take them to heart; but whether he failed to notice them or did not
wish to do so, it is enough that he merely laughed and asked,—
“But would not sunflower seeds take the place of hemp?”
“They might,” answered Zagloba; “but since sunflower oil is heavier, it
would be necessary to drink stronger wine than that which we are
drinking at present.”
The starosta understood the hint, was amused, and gave immediate order
to bring the best wines. Then all rejoiced in their hearts, and the
rejoicing became universal. They drank and gave vivats to the health of
the king, the host, and Pan Charnyetski. Zagloba fell into good humor
and let no one speak. He described at great length the affair at
Golamb, in which he had really fought well, for, serving in the Lauda
squadron, he could not do otherwise. But because he had learned from
Swedish prisoners taken from the regiments of Dubois of the death of
Prince Waldemar, Zagloba took responsibility for that death on himself.
“The battle,” said he, “would have gone altogether differently were it
not that the day before I went to Baranov to the canon of that place,
and Charnyetski, not knowing where I was, could not advise with me.
Maybe the Swedes too had heard of that canon, for he has splendid mead,
and they went at once to Golamb. When I returned it was too late; the
king had attacked, and it was necessary to strike at once. We went
straight into the fire; but what is to be done when the general militia
choose to show their contempt for the enemy by turning their backs? I
don’t know how Charnyetski will manage at present without me.”
“He will manage, have no fear on that point,” said Volodyovski.
“I know why. The King of Sweden chooses to pursue me to Zamost rather
than seek Charnyetski beyond the Vistula. I do not deny that
Charnyetski is a good soldier; but when he begins to twist his beard
and look with his wildcat glance, it seems to an officer of the
lightest squadron that he is a dragoon. He pays no attention to a man’s
office; and this you yourselves saw when he gave orders to drag over
the square with horses an honorable man, Pan Jyrski, only because he
did not reach with his detachment the place to which he was ordered.
With a noble, gracious gentlemen, it is necessary to act like a father,
not like a dragoon. Say to him, ‘Lord brother,’ be kind, rouse his
feelings,—he will call to mind the country and glory, will go farther
for you than a dragoon who serves for a salary.”
“A noble is a noble, and war is war,” remarked Zamoyski.
“You have brought that out in a very masterly manner,” answered
Zagloba.
“Pan Charnyetski will turn the plans of Karl into folly,” said
Volodyovski. “I have been in more than one war, and I can speak on this
point.”
“First, we will make a fool of him at Zamost,” said Sobiepan, pouting
his lips, puffing, and showing great spirit, staring, and putting his
hands on his hips. “Bah! Tfu! What do I care? When I invite a man I
open the door to him. Well!”
Here Zamoyski began to puff still more mightily, to strike the table
with his knees, bend forward, shake his head, look stern, flash his
eyes, and speak, as was his habit, with a certain coarse carelessness.
“What do I care? He is lord in Sweden; but Zamoyski is lord for himself
in Zamost. _Eques polonus sum_ (I am a Polish nobleman), nothing more.
But I am in my own house; I am Zamoyski, and he is King of Sweden; but
Maximilian was Austrian, was he not? Is he coming? Let him come. We
shall see! Sweden is small for him, but Zamost is enough for me. I will
not yield it.”
“It is a delight, gracious gentlemen, to hear not only such eloquence,
but such honest sentiments,” cried Zagloba.
“Zamoyski is Zamoyski!” continued Pan Sobiepan, delighted with the
praise. “We have not bowed down, and we will not. I will not give up
Zamost, and that is the end of it.”
“To the health of the host!” thundered the officers.
“Vivat! vivat!”
“Pan Zagloba,” cried Zamoyski, “I will not let the King of Sweden into
Zamost, and I will not let you out.”
“I thank you for the favor; but, your worthiness, do not do that, for
as much as you torment Karl with the first decision, so much will you
delight him with the second.”
“Give me your word that you will come to me after the war is over.”
“I give it.”
Long yet did they feast, then sleep began to overcome the knights;
therefore they went to rest, especially as sleepless nights were soon
to begin for them, since the Swedes were already near, and the advance
guards were looked for at any hour.
“So in truth he will not give up Zamost,” said Zagloba, returning to
his quarters with Pan Yan and Volodyovski. “Have you seen how we have
fallen in love with each other? It will be pleasant here in Zamost for
me and you. The host and I have become so attached to each other that
no cabinet-maker could join inlaid work better. He is a good
fellow—h’m! If he were my knife and I carried him at my belt, I would
whet him on a stone pretty often, for he is a trifle dull. But he is a
good man, and he will not betray like those bull-drivers of Birji. Have
you noticed how the magnates cling to old Zagloba? I cannot keep them
off. I’m scarcely away from Sapyeha when there is another at hand. But
I will tune this one as a bass-viol, and play such an aria on him for
the Swedes that they will dance to death at Zamost. I will wind him up
like a Dantzig clock with chimes.”
Noise coming from the town interrupted further conversation. After a
time an officer whom they knew passed quickly near them.
“Stop!” cried Volodyovski; “what is the matter?”
“There is a fire to be seen from the walls. Shchebjeshyn is burning!
The Swedes are there!”
“Let us go on the walls,” said Pan Yan.
“Go; but I will sleep, since I need my strength for to-morrow,”
answered Zagloba.