UNDER MONGOL YOKE
Amid the wreck of principalities there was one state remaining erect.
Novgorod was defended by its remoteness and its uninviting climate.
The Mongols had not thought it worth while to attempt the reduction of
the warlike state, so the stalwart Republic stood alone amid the
general ruin. All the rest were under the Tatar yoke. Of Princes
there were none. All had either been slaughtered or fled. Proud
_boyars_ saw their wives and daughters the slaves of barbarians.
Delicate women who had always lived in luxury were grinding corn and
preparing coarse food for their terrible masters.
After the conquest was completed the Mongol sovereign exacted only
three things from the prostrate state--homage, tribute, and a military
contingent when required. They might retain their land and their
customs, might worship any god in any way; their Princes might dispute
for the thrones as before; but no Prince--not the Grand Prince
himself--could ascend a throne until he had permission from the Great
Khan, to whom also every dispute between royal claimants must be
deferred. Then when finally the messenger came from the sovereign with
the _yarlik_, or royal sanction, the Prince must listen kneeling, with
his head in the dust. And if then he was invited (?) to the Mongol
court to pay homage, he must go, even though it required (as Marco Polo
tells us) four years to make the journey across the plains and the
mountains and rivers and the Great Desert of Gobi!
When Yaroslaf II., third Grand Prince of Suzdal, succeeded to the
Principality, he was _invited_ to pay this visit. After reaching
there, and after all the degrading ceremonies to which he was
subjected--kissing the stirrup of his Suzerain, and licking up the
drops which fell from his cup as he drank--then this Prince of the
family of Rurik perished from exhaustion in the Desert of Gobi on his
return journey. But this was not all. The yoke was a heavy as well as
a degrading one. Each Prince with his _Drujina_ must be always ready
to lead an army in defense of the Mongol cause if required; and, last
of all, the poll-tax bore with intolerable weight upon everyone, rich
or poor, excepting only the ecclesiastics and the property of the Greek
Church, which with a singular clemency they exempted.
What sort of a despotism was it, and what sort of a being, that could
wield such a power from such a distance! that, across a continent it
took four years to traverse, could compel such obedience; could by a
word or a nod bring proud Princes with rage and rebellion in their
hearts to his court--not to be honored and enriched, but degraded and
insulted; then in shame to turn back with their _boyars_ and
retinues,--if indeed they were permitted to go back at all,--one-half
of whom would perish from exhaustion by the way. What was the secret
of such a power? Even with all the modern appliances for conveying the
will of a sovereign to-day, with railroads to carry his messengers and
telegraph wires to convey his will, would it be conceivable to exert
such an authority?
And--listen to the language of a proud Russian Prince at the Court of
the Great Khan: "Lord--all-powerful Tsar, if I have done aught against
you, I come hither to receive life or death. I am ready for either.
Do with me as God inspires you." Or still another: "My Lord and
master, by thy mercy hold I my principality--with no title but thy
protection and investiture--thy _yarlik_; while my uncle claims it not
by your favor but by right!" It was such pleading as this that
succeeded; so it is easy to see how Princes at last vied with each
other in being abject. In this particular case the presumptuous uncle
was ordered to lead his victorious nephew's horse by the bridle, on his
way to his coronation at Moscow. So the path to success was through
the dust, and it was the wily Princes of Moscow that most patiently
traveled that road with important results to Russia.
Novgorod, as we have said, had alone escaped from these degradations.
Her Prince Alexander was son of Yaroslaf, the Grand Prince who perished
in the desert on his way home. At the time of the invasion Alexander
was leading an army against the Swedes and the Livonian Knights in
defense of his Baltic provinces. It was Latin Christianity _versus_
Greek, and by a great victory upon the banks of the Neva he earned
undying fame and the surname of _Nevski_. Alexander Nevski is
remembered as the hero of the Neva and of the North; yet even he was
finally compelled to grovel at the feet of the barbarians. Novgorod
alone had stood erect, had paid no tribute and offered no homage to the
Khan. At last, when its destruction was at hand, thirty-six years
after the invasion, Nevski had the heroism to submit to the inevitable.
He advised a surrender. It needed a soul of iron to brave the
indignation of the republic. "He offers us servitude!" they cried.
The _Posadnik_ who conveyed the counsel to the _Vetché_ was murdered on
the spot. But Alexander persisted, and he prevailed. His own son
refused to share his father's disgrace, and left the state. Again and
again the people withdrew the consent they had given. Better might
Novgorod perish! But finally, when Alexander Nevski declared that he
would go, that he would leave them to their fate, they yielded, and the
Mongols came into a silent city, passing from house to house making
lists of the inhabitants who must pay tribute.
Then the unhappy Prince went to prostrate himself before the Khan at
Saraï. But his heart had broken with his spirit. He had saved his
state, but the task had been too heavy for him. He died from
exhaustion on his journey home (1260).
On account of internal convulsions in the Great Tatar Empire, now
united by Kublai-Khan, the fourth in succession from Genghis-Khan, the
Golden-Horde had separated from the parent state, and its Khan was
absolute ruler of Russia. So from this time the ceremony of
investiture was performed at Saraï; and the humiliating pilgrimages of
the Princes were made to that city.
The religion of the Mongols at the time of the invasion was a paganism
founded upon sorcery and magic; but they soon thereafter adopted
Islamism, and became ardent followers of the Prophet (1272). Although
they never attempted to Tatarize Russia, 250 years of occupation could
not fail to leave indelible traces upon a civilization which was even
more than before Orientalized. The dress of the upper classes became
more Eastern--the flowing caftan replaced the tunic, the blood of the
races mingled to some extent; even the Princes and _boyars_ contracting
marriages with Mongol women, so that in some of the future sovereigns
the blood of the Tatar was to be mingled with that of Rurik.
A weaker nation would have been crushed and disheartened by such
calamities as have been described. But Russia was not weak. She had a
tremendous store of vigor for good or for evil. Life had always been a
terrible conflict, with nature and with man, and when there had been no
other barbarians to fight, they had fought each other. Every muscle
and every sinew had always been in the highest state of activity, and
was toughened and strong, with an inextinguishable vitality. Such
nations do not waste time in sentimental regrets. Their wounds, like
those of animals, heal quickly, and they are urged on by a sort of
instinct to wear out the chains they cannot break. By the time
Novgorod came under the Tatar yoke the entire state had adjusted itself
to its condition of servitude. Its internal economy was
re-established, the peasants, in their _Mirs_ or communes, sowed and
reaped, and the people bought and sold, only a little more patient and
submissive than before. The burden had grown heavier, but it must be
borne and the tribute paid. The Princes, with wits sharpened by
conflict, fought as they always had, with uncles, cousins, and brothers
for the thrones; and then governed with a severity as nearly as
possible like the one imposed upon themselves by their own master--the
Great Khan.
The germ of future Russia was there; a strong, patient, toiling people
firmly held by a despotic power which they did not comprehend, and
uncomplainingly and as a matter of course giving nearly one-half of the
fruit of their toil for the privilege of living in their own land!
When her sovereigns had Tatar blood in their veins and Tatar ideals in
their hearts, Russia was on the road to absolutism. All things were
tending toward a centralized unity of an iron and inexorable type--a
type entirely foreign to the natural free instincts of the Slavonic
people themselves.