Usually when the warm rays of the sun begin to break through the wintry
veil of clouds, and when the first buds appear on the trees and the
green fleece spreads over the damp fields, a better hope enters the
hearts of men. But the spring of 1655 brought not the usual comfort to
the afflicted inhabitants of the Commonwealth. The entire eastern
boundary, from the north to the wilderness on the south, was bound as
it were by a border of flame; and the spring torrents could not quench
the conflagration, but that border grew wider continually and occupied
broader regions. And besides there appeared in the sky signs of evil
omen, announcing still greater defeats and misfortunes. Time after time
from the clouds which swept over the heavens were formed as it were
lofty towers like the flanks of fortresses, which afterward rolled down
with a crash. Thunderbolts struck the earth while it was still covered
with snow, pine-woods became yellow, and the limbs of trees crossed one
another in strange sickly figures; wild beasts and birds fell down and
died from unknown diseases. Finally, strange spots were seen on the
sun, having the form of a hand holding an apple, of a heart pierced
through, and a cross. The minds of men were disturbed more and more;
monks were lost in calculating what these signs might mean. A wonderful
kind of disquiet seized all hearts.
New and sudden wars were foretold, God knows from what source. An
ominous report began to circulate from mouth to mouth in villages and
towns that a tempest was coming from the side of the Swedes. Apparently
nothing seemed to confirm this report, for the truce concluded with
Sweden had six years yet to run; and still people spoke of the danger
of war, even at the Diet, which Yan Kazimir the king had called on May
19 in Warsaw.
Anxious eyes were turned more and more to Great Poland, on which the
storm would come first. Leshchynski, the voevoda of Lenchytsk, and
Narushevich, chief secretary of Lithuania, went on an embassy to
Sweden; but their departure, instead of quieting the alarmed, increased
still more the disquiet.
"That embassy smells of war," wrote Yanush Radzivill.
"If a storm were not threatening from that direction, why were they
sent?" asked others.
Kanazyl, the first ambassador, had barely returned from Stockholm; but
it was to be seen clearly that he had done nothing, since immediately
after him important senators were sent.
However people of more judgment did not believe yet in the possibility
of war. "The Commonwealth," said they, "has given no cause, and the
truce endures in full validity. How could oaths be broken, the most
sacred agreements violated, and a harmless neighbor attacked in robber
fashion? Besides, Sweden remembers the wounds inflicted by the Polish
sabre at Kirchholm and Putsk; and Gustavus Adolphus, who in western
Europe found not his equal, yielded a number of times to Pan
Konyetspolski. The Swedes will not expose such great military glory won
in the world to uncertain hazard before an opponent against whom they
have never been able to stand in the field. It is true that the
Commonwealth is exhausted and weakened by war; but Prussia and Great
Poland, which in the last wars did not suffer at all, will of
themselves be able to drive that hungry people beyond the sea to their
barren rocks. There will be no war."
To this alarmists answered again that even before the Diet at Warsaw
counsel was taken by advice of the king at the provincial diet in
Grodno concerning the defence of the boundary of Great Poland, and
taxes and soldiers assigned, which would not have been done unless
danger was near.
And so minds were wavering between fear and hope; a grievous
uncertainty weighed down the spirits of people, when suddenly an end
was put to it by the proclamation of Boguslav Leshchynski, commander in
Great Poland, summoning the general militia of the provinces of Poznan
and Kalisk for the defence of the boundaries against the impending
Swedish storm.
Every doubt vanished. The shout, "War!" was heard throughout Great
Poland and all the lands of the Commonwealth.
That was not only a war, but a new war. Hmelnitski, reinforced by
Buturlin, was raging in the south and the east; Hovanski and Trubetskoi
on the north and east; the Swede was approaching from the west! The
fiery border had become a fiery wheel.
The country was like a besieged camp; and in the camp evil was
happening. One traitor, Radzeyovski, had fled from it, and was in the
tent of the invaders. He was guiding them to ready spoil, he was
pointing out the weak sides; it was his work to tempt the garrisons.
And in addition there was no lack of ill will and envy,--no lack of
magnates quarrelling among themselves or angry with the king by reason
of offices refused, and ready at any moment to sacrifice the cause of
the nation to their own private profit; there was no lack of dissidents
wishing to celebrate their own triumph even on the grave of the
fatherland; and a still greater number was there of the disorderly, the
heedless, the slothful, and of those who were in love with themselves,
their own ease and well being.
Still Great Poland, a country wealthy and hitherto untouched by war,
did not spare at least money for defence. Towns and villages of nobles
furnished as many infantry as were assigned to them; and before the
nobles moved in their own persons to the camp many-colored regiments of
land infantry had moved thither under the leadership of captains
appointed by the provincial diet from among men experienced in the art
of war.
Tan Stanislav Dembinski led the land troops of Poznan, Pan Vladyslav
Vlostovski those of Kostsian, and Pan Golts, a famous soldier and
engineer, those of Valets. The peasants of Kalisk were commanded by Pan
Stanislav Skshetuski, from a stock of valiant warriors, a cousin of the
famous Yan from Zbaraj. Pan Katsper Jyhlinski led the millers and
bailiffs of Konin. From Pyzdri marched Pan Stanislav Yarachevski, who
had spent his youth in foreign wars; from Ktsyna, Pan Pyotr
Skorashevski, and from Naklo, Pan Kosletski. But in military experience
no one was equal to Pan Vladyslav Skorashevski, whose voice was
listened to even by the commander in Great Poland himself and the
voevodas.
In three places--at Pila, Uistsie, Vyelunie--had the captains fixed the
lines on the Notets, waiting for the arrival of the nobles summoned to
the general militia. The infantry dug trenches from morning till
evening, looking continually toward the rear to see if the wished for
cavalry were coming.
The first dignitary who came was Pan Andrei Grudzinski, voevoda of
Kalisk. He lodged in the house of the mayor, with a numerous retinue of
servants arrayed in white and blue colors. He expected that the nobles
of Kalisk would gather round him straightway; but when no one appeared
he sent for Captain Stanislav Skshetuski, who was occupied in digging
trenches at the river.
"Where are my men?" asked he, after the first greetings of the captain,
whom he had known from childhood.
"What men?" asked Pan Stanislav.
"The general militia of Kalisk."
A smile of pain mingled with contempt appeared on the swarthy face of
the soldier.
"Serene great mighty voevoda," said he, "this is the time for shearing
sheep, and in Dantzig they will not pay for badly washed wool. Every
noble is now at a pond washing or weighing, thinking correctly that the
Swedes will not run away."
"How is that?" asked the troubled voevoda; "is there no one here yet?"
"Not a living soul, except the land infantry. And, besides, the harvest
is near. A good manager will not leave home at such a season."
"What do you tell me?"
"But the Swedes will not run away, they will only come nearer,"
repeated the captain.
The pock-pitted face of the voevoda grew suddenly purple. "What are the
Swedes to me? But this will be a shame for me in the presence of the
other lords if I am here alone like a finger."
Pan Stanislav laughed again: "Your grace will permit me to remark,"
said he, "that the Swedes are the main thing here, and shame afterward.
Besides, there will be no shame; for not only the nobles of Kalisk, but
all other nobles, are absent."
"They have run mad!" exclaimed Grudzinski.
"No; but they are sure of this,--if they will not go to the Swedes, the
Swedes will not fail to come to them."
"Wait!" said the voevoda. And clapping his hands for an attendant, he
gave command to bring ink, pen, and paper; then he sat down and began
to write. In half an hour he had covered the paper; he struck it with
his hand, and said,--
"I will send another call for them to be here at the latest _pro die 27
praesentis_ (on the 27th of the present month), and I think that surely
they will wish at this last date _non deesse patriæ_ (not to fail the
country). And now tell me have you any news of the enemy?"
"We have. Wittemberg is mustering his troops on the fields at Dama."
"Are there many?"
"Some say seventeen thousand, others more."
"H'm! then there will not be so many of ours. What is your opinion?
Shall we be able to oppose them?"
"If the nobles do not appear, there is nothing to talk about."
"They will come; why should they not come? It is a known fact that the
general militia always delay. But shall we be able to succeed with the
aid of the nobles?"
"No," replied Pan Stanislav, coolly. "Serene great mighty voevoda, we
have no soldiers."
"How no soldiers?"
"Your grace knows as well as I that all the regular troops are in the
Ukraine. Not even two squadrons were sent here, though at this moment
God alone knows which storm is greater."
"But the infantry, and the general militia?"
"Of twenty peasants scarcely one has seen war; of ten, one knows how to
hold a gun. After the first war they will be good soldiers, but they
are not soldiers now. And as to the general militia let your grace ask
any man who knows even a little about war whether the general militia
can stand before regulars, and besides such soldiers as the Swedes,
veterans of the whole Lutheran war, and accustomed to victory."
"Do you exalt the Swedes, then, so highly above your own?"
"I do not exalt them above my own; for if there were fifteen thousand
such men here as were at Zbaraj, quarter soldiers and cavalry, I should
have no fear. But with such as we have God knows whether we can do
anything worth mention."
The voevoda placed his hands on his knees, and looked quickly into the
eyes of Pan Stanislav, as if wishing to read some hidden thought in
them. "What have we come here for, then? Do you not think it better to
yield?"
Pan Stanislav spat in answer, and said: "If such a thought as that has
risen in my head, let your grace give command to impale me on a stake.
To the question do I believe in victory I answer, as a soldier, that I
do not. But why we have come here,--that is another question, to which
as a citizen I will answer. To offer the enemy the first resistance, so
that by detaining them we shall enable the rest of the country to make
ready and march, to restrain the invasion with our bodies until we fall
one on the other."
"Your intention is praiseworthy," answered the voevoda, coldly; "but it
is easier for you soldiers to talk about death than for us, on whom
will fall all the responsibility for so much noble blood shed in vain."
"What is noble blood for unless to be shed?"
"That is true, of course. We are ready to die, for that is the easiest
thing of all. But duty commands us, the men whom providence has made
leaders, not to seek our own glory merely, but also to look for
results. War is as good as begun, it is true; but still Carolus
Gustavus is a relative of our king, and must remember this fact.
Therefore it is necessary to try negotiations, for sometimes more can
be effected by speech than by arms."
"That does not pertain to me," said Pan Stanislav, dryly.
Evidently the same thought occurred to the voevoda at that moment, for
he nodded and dismissed the captain.
Pan Stanislav, however, was only half right in what he said concerning
the delay of the nobles summoned to the general militia. It was true
that before sheep-shearing was over few came to the camp between Pila
and Uistsie; but toward the 27th of June,--that is, the date mentioned
in the second summons--they began to assemble in numbers considerable
enough.
Every day clouds of dust, rising by reason of the dry and settled
weather, announced the approach of fresh reinforcements one after
another. And the nobles travelled noisily on horses, on wheels, and
with crowds of servants, with provisions, with wagons, and abundance on
them of every kind of thing, and so loaded with weapons that many a man
carried arms of every description for three lances, muskets, pistols,
sabres, double-handed swords and hussar hammers, out of use even in
that time, for smashing armor. Old soldiers recognized at once by these
weapons men unaccustomed to war and devoid of experience.
Of all the nobles inhabiting the Commonwealth just those of Great
Poland were the least warlike. Tartars, Turks, and Cossacks had never
trampled those regions which from the time of the Knights of the Cross
had almost forgotten how war looked in the country. Whenever a noble of
Great Poland felt the desire for war he joined the armies of the
kingdom, and fought there as well as the best; but those who preferred
to stay at home became real householders, in love with wealth and with
ease,--real agriculturists, filling with their wool and especially with
their wheat the markets of Prussian towns. But now when the Swedish
storm swept them away from their peaceful pursuits, they thought it
impossible to pile up too many arms, provide too great supplies, or
take too many servants to protect the persons and goods of the master.
They were marvellous soldiers, whom the captains could not easily bring
to obedience. For example, one would present himself with a lance
nineteen feet long, with a breastplate on his breast, but with a straw
hat on his head "for coolness;" another in time of drill would complain
of the heat; a third would yawn, eat, or drink; a fourth would call his
attendant; and all who were in the ranks thought it nothing out of the
way to talk so loudly that no man could hear the command of an officer.
And it was difficult to introduce discipline, for it offended the
brotherhood terribly, as being opposed to the dignity of a citizen. It
is true that "articles" were proclaimed, but no one would obey them.
An iron ball on the feet of this army was the innumerable legion of
wagons, of reserve and draft horses, of cattle intended for food, and
especially of the multitude of servants guarding the tents, utensils,
millet, grits, hash, and causing on the least occasion quarrels and
disturbance.
Against such an army as this was advancing from the side of Stettin and
the plains on the Oder, Arwid Wittemberg, an old leader, whose youth
had been passed in the thirty years' war; he came at the head of
seventeen thousand veterans bound together by iron discipline.
On one side stood the disordered Polish camp, resembling a crowd at a
country fair, vociferous, full of disputes, discussions about the
commands of leaders, and of dissatisfaction; composed of worthy
villagers turned into prospective infantry, and nobles taken straight
from sheep-shearing. From the other side marched terrible, silent
quadrangles, which at one beck of their leaders turned, with the
precision of machines, into lines and half-circles, unfolding into
wedges and triangles as regularly as a sword moves in the hands of a
fencer, bristling with musket-barrels and darts: genuine men of war,
cool, calm; real masters who had attained perfection in their art. Who
among men of experience could doubt the outcome of the meeting and on
whose side the victory must fall?
The nobles, however, were assembling in greater and greater numbers;
and still earlier the dignitaries of Great Poland and other provinces
began to meet, bringing bodies of attendant troops and servants. Soon
after the arrival of Pan Grudzinski at Pila came Pan Kryshtof
Opalinski, the powerful voevoda of Poznan. Three hundred haiduks in red
and yellow uniforms and armed with muskets went before the carriage of
the voevoda; a crowd of attendant nobles surrounded his worthy person;
following them in order of battle came a division of horsemen with
uniforms similar to those of the haiduks; the voevoda himself was in a
carriage attended by a jester, Staha Ostrojka, whose duty it was to
cheer his gloomy master on the road.
The entrance of such a great dignitary gave courage and consolation to
all; for those who looked on the almost kingly majesty of the voevoda,
on that lordly face in which under the lofty vaulting of the forehead
there gleamed eyes wise and severe, and on the senatorial dignity of
his whole posture, could hardly believe that any evil fate could come
to such power.
To those accustomed to give honor to office and to person it seemed
that even the Swedes themselves would not dare to raise a sacrilegious
hand against such a magnate. Even those whose hearts were beating in
their breasts with alarm felt safer at once under his wing. He was
greeted therefore joyfully and warmly; shouts thundered along the
street through which the retinue pushed slowly toward the house of the
mayor, and all heads inclined before the voevoda, who was as visible as
on the palm of the hand through the windows of the gilded carriage. To
these bows Ostrojka answered, as well as the voevoda, with the same
importance and gravity as if they had been given exclusively to him.
Barely had the dust settled after the passage of Opalinski when
couriers rushed in with the announcement that his cousin was coming,
the voevoda of Podlyasye, Pyotr Opalinski, with his brother-in-law
Yakob Rozdrajevski, the voevoda of Inovratslav. These brought each a
hundred and fifty armed men, besides nobles and servants. Then not a
day passed without the arrival of dignitaries such as Sendzivoi
Charnkovski, the brother-in-law of Krishtof Opalinski, and himself
castellan of Kalisk; Maksymilian Myaskovski, the castellan of Kryvinsk;
and Pavel Gembitski, the lord of Myendzyrechka. The town was so filled
with people that houses failed for the lodging even of nobles. The
neighboring meadows were many-colored with the tents of the general
militia. One might say that all the various colored birds had flown to
Pila from the entire Commonwealth. Red, green, blue, azure, white were
gleaming on the various coats and garments; for leaving aside the
general militia, in which each noble wore a dress different from his
neighbor, leaving aside the servants of the magnates, even the infantry
of each district were dressed in their own colors.
Shop-keepers came too, who, unable to find places in the market-square,
built a row of booths by the side of the town, on these they sold
military supplies, from clothing to arms and food. Field-kitchens were
steaming day and night, bearing away in the steam the odor of hash,
roast meat, millet; in some liquors were sold. Nobles swarmed in front
of the booths, armed not only with swords but with spoons, eating,
drinking, and discussing, now the enemy not yet to be seen, and now the
incoming dignitaries, on whom nicknames were not spared.
Among the groups of nobles walked Ostrojka, in a dress made of
party-colored rags, carrying a sceptre ornamented with bells, and with
the mien of a simple rogue. Wherever he showed himself men came around
in a circle, and he poured oil on the fire, helped them to backbite the
dignitaries, and gave riddles over which the nobles held their sides
from laughter, the more firmly the more biting the riddles.
On a certain midday the voevoda of Poznan himself came to the bazaar,
speaking courteously with this one and that, or blaming the king
somewhat because in the face of the approaching enemy he had not sent a
single squadron of soldiers.
"They are not thinking of us, worthy gentlemen," said he, "and leave us
without assistance. They say in Warsaw that even now there are too few
troops in the Ukraine, and that the hetmans are not able to make head
against Hmelnitski. Ah, it is difficult! It is pleasanter to see the
Ukraine than Great Poland. We are in disfavor, worthy gentlemen, in
disfavor! They have delivered us here as it were to be slaughtered."
"And who is to blame?" asked Pan Shlihtyng, the judge of Vskov.
"Who is to blame for all the misfortunes of the Commonwealth," asked
the voevoda,--"who, unless we brother nobles who shield it with our
breasts?"
The nobles, hearing this, were greatly flattered that the "Count in
Bnino and Opalenitsa" put himself on an equality with them, and
recognized himself in brotherhood; hence Pan Koshutski answered,--
"Serene great mighty voevoda, if there were more such counsellors as
your grace near his Majesty, of a certainty we should not be delivered
to slaughter here; but probably those give counsel who bow lower."
"I thank you, brothers, for the good word. The fault is his who listens
to evil counsellors. Our liberties are as salt in the eye to those
people. The more nobles fall, the easier will it be to introduce
_absolutum dominium_ (absolute rule)."
"Must we die, then, that our children may groan in slavery?"
The voevoda said nothing, and the nobles began to look at one another
and wonder.
"Is that true then?" cried many. "Is that the reason why they sent us
here under the knife? And we believe! This is not the first day that
they are talking about _absolutum dominium_. But if it comes to that,
we shall be able to think of our own heads."
"And of our children."
"And of our fortunes, which the enemy will destroy _igne et ferro_
(with fire and sword)."
The voevoda was silent. In a marvellous manner did this leader add to
the courage of his soldiers.
"The king is to blame for all!" was shouted more and more frequently.
"But do you remember, gentlemen, the history of Yan Olbracht?" asked
the voevoda.
"The nobles perished for King Olbracht. Treason, brothers!"
"The king is a traitor!" cried some bold voices.
The voevoda was silent.
Now Ostrojka, standing by the side of the voevoda, struck himself a
number of times on the legs, and crowed like a cock with such
shrillness that all eyes were turned to him. Then he shouted, "Gracious
lords! brothers, dear hearts! listen to my riddle."
With the genuine fickleness of March weather, the stormy militia
changed in one moment to curiosity and desire to hear some new stroke
of wit from the jester.
"We hear! we hear!" cried a number of voices.
The jester began to wink like a monkey and to recite in a squeaking
voice,--
"After his brother he solaced himself with a crown and a wife,
But let glory go down to the grave with his brother.
He drove out the vice-chancellor; hence now has the fame
Of being vice-chancellor to--the vice-chancellor's wife."
"The king! the king! As alive! Yan Kazimir!" they began to cry from
every side; and laughter, mighty as thunder, was heard in the crowd.
"May the bullets strike him, what a masterly explanation!" cried the
nobles.
The voevoda laughed with the others, and when it had grown somewhat
calm he said, with increased dignity: "And for this affair we must pay
now with our blood and our heads. See what it has come to! Here,
jester, is a ducat for thy good verse."
"Kryshtofek! Krysh dearest!" said Ostrojka, "why attack others because
they keep jesters, when thou not only keepest me, but payest separately
for riddles? Give me another ducat and I'll tell thee another riddle."
"Just as good?"
"As good, only longer. Give me the ducat first."
"Here it is!"
The jester slapped his sides with his hands, as a cock
with his wings, crowed again, and cried out, "Gracious gentlemen,
listen! Who is this?"
"He complains of self-seeking, stands forth as a Cato;
Instead of a sabre he took a goose's tail-feather
He wanted the legacy of a traitor, and not getting that
He lashed the whole Commonwealth with a biting rhyme.
"God grant him love for the sabre! less woe would it bring.
Of his satire the Swedes have no fear.
But he has barely tasted the hardships of war
When following a traitor he is ready to betray his king."
All present guessed that riddle as well as the first. Two or three
laughs, smothered at the same instant, were heard in the assembly; then
a deep silence fell.
The voevoda grew purple, and he was the more confused in that all eyes
were fixed on him at that moment. But the jester looked on one noble
and then on another; at last he said, "None of you gentlemen can guess
who that is?"
When silence was the only answer, he turned with the most insolent mien
to the voevoda: "And thou, dost thou too not know of what rascal the
speech is? Dost thou not know? Then pay me a ducat."
"Here!" said the voevoda.
"God reward thee. But tell me, Krysh, hast thou not perchance tried to
get the vice-chancellorship after Radzeyovski?"
"No time for jests," replied Opalinski; and removing his cap to all
present: "With the forehead, gentlemen! I must go to the council of
war."
"To the family council thou didst wish to say, Krysh," added Ostrojka;
"for there all thy relatives will hold council how to be off." Then he
turned to the nobles and imitating the voevoda in his bows, he added,
"And to you, gentlemen, that's the play."
Both withdrew; but they had barely gone a few steps when an immense
outburst of laughter struck the ears of the voevoda, and thundered long
before it was drowned in the general noise of the camp.
The council of war was held in fact, and the voevoda of Poznan
presided. That was a strange council! Those very dignitaries took part
in it who knew nothing of war; for the magnates of Great Poland did not
and could not follow the example of those "kinglets" of Lithuania or
the Ukraine who lived in continual fire like salamanders.
In Lithuania or the Ukraine whoever was a voevoda or a chancellor was a
leader whose armor pressed out on his body red stripes which never left
it, whose youth was spent in the steppes or the forests on the eastern
border, in ambushes, battles, struggles, pursuits, in camp or in
tabors. In Great Poland at this time dignitaries were in office who,
though they had marched in times of necessity with the general militia,
had never held positions of command in time of war. Profound peace had
put to sleep the military courage of the descendants of those warriors,
before whom in former days the iron legions of the Knights of the Cross
were unable to stand, and turned them into civilians, scholars, and
writers. Now the stern school of Sweden was teaching them what they had
forgotten.
The dignitaries assembled in council looked at one another with
uncertain eyes, and each feared to speak first, waiting for what
"Agamemnon," voevoda of Poznan, would say.
But "Agamemnon" himself knew simply nothing, and began his speech again
with complaints of the ingratitude and sloth of the king, of the
frivolity with which all Great Poland and they were delivered to the
sword. But how eloquent was he; what a majestic figure did he present,
worthy in truth of a Roman senator! He held his head erect while
speaking; his dark eyes shot lightnings, his mouth thunderbolts; his
iron-gray beard trembled with excitement when he described the future
misfortunes of the land.
"For in what does the fatherland suffer," said he, "if not in its sons?
and we here suffer, first of all. Through our private lands, through
our private fortunes won by the services and blood of our ancestors,
will advance the feet of those enemies who now like a storm are
approaching from the sea. And why do we suffer? For what will they take
our herds, trample our harvests, burn our villages built by our labor?
Have we wronged Radzeyovski, who, condemned unjustly, hunted like a
criminal, had to seek the protection of strangers? No! Do we insist
that that empty title 'King of Sweden,' which has cost so much blood
already, should remain with the signature of our Yan Kazimir? No! Two
wars are blazing on two boundaries; was it needful to call forth a
third? Who was to blame, may God, may the country judge him! We wash
our hands, for we are innocent of the blood which will be shed."
And thus the voevoda thundered on further; but when it came to the
question in hand he was not able to give the desired advice.
They sent then for the captains leading the land infantry, and
specially for Vladyslav Skorashevski, who was not only a famous and
incomparable knight, but an old, practised soldier, knowing war as he
did the Lord's Prayer. In fact, genuine leaders listened frequently to
his advice; all the more eagerly was it sought for now.
Pan Skorashevski advised then to establish three camps,--at Pila,
Vyelunie, and Uistsie,--so near one another that in time of attack they
might give mutual aid, and besides this to cover with trenches the
whole extent of the river-bank occupied by a half-circle of camps which
were to command the passage.
"When we know," said Skorashevski, "the place where the enemy will
attempt the crossing, we shall unite from all three camps and give him
proper resistance. But I with the permission of your great mighty
lordships, will go with a small party to Chaplinko. That is a lost
position, and in time I shall withdraw from it; but there I shall first
get knowledge of the enemy, and then will inform your great mighty
lordships."
All accepted this counsel, and men began to move around somewhat more
briskly in the camp. At last the nobles assembled to the number of
fifteen thousand. The land infantry dug trenches over an extent of six
miles. Uistsie, the chief position, was occupied by the voevoda of
Poznan and his men. A part of the knights remained in Vyelunie, a part
in Pila, and Vladyslav Skorashevski went to Chaplinko to observe the
enemy.
July began; all the days were clear and hot. The sun burned on the
plains so violently that the nobles hid in the woods between the trees,
under the shade of which some of them gave orders to set up their
tents. There also they had noisy and boisterous feasts; and still more
of an uproar was made by the servants, especially at the time of
washing and watering the horses which, to the number of several
thousand at once, were driven thrice each day to the Notets and Berda,
quarrelling and fighting for the best approach to the bank. But in the
beginning there was a good spirit in the camp; only the voevoda of
Poznan himself acted rather to weaken it.
If Wittemberg had come in the first days of July, it is likely that he
would have met a mighty resistance, which in proportion as the men
warmed to battle might have been turned into an invincible rage, of
which there were often examples. For still there flowed knightly blood
in the veins of these people, though they had grown unaccustomed to
war.
Who knows if another Yeremi Vishnyevetski might not have changed
Uistsie into another Zbaraj, and described in those trenches a new
illustrious career of knighthood? Unfortunately the voevoda of Poznan
was a man who could only write; he knew nothing of war.
Wittemberg, a leader knowing not merely war but men, did not hasten,
perhaps on purpose. Experience of long years had taught him that a
newly enrolled soldier is most dangerous in the first moments of
enthusiasm, and that often not bravery is lacking to him, but soldierly
endurance, which practice alone can develop. More than once have new
soldiers struck like a storm on the oldest regiments, and passed over
their corpses. They are iron which while it is hot quivers, lives,
scatters sparks, burns, destroys, but which when it grows cold is a
mere lifeless lump.
In fact, when a week had passed, a second, and the third had come, long
inactivity began to weigh upon the general militia. The heat became
greater each day. The nobles would not go to drill, and gave as excuse
that their horses tormented by flies would not stand in line, and as to
marshy places they could not live from mosquitoes. Servants raised
greater and greater quarrels about shady places, concerning which it
came to sabres among their masters. This or that one coming home in the
evening from the water rode off to one side from the camp not to
return.
Evil example from above was also not wanting. Pan Skorashevski had
given notice from Chaplinko that the Swedes were not distant, when at
the military council Zygmunt Grudzinski got leave to go home; on this
leave his uncle Andrei Grudzinski, voevoda of Kalisk, had greatly
insisted. "I have to lay down my head and my life here," said he; "let
my nephew inherit after me my memory and glory, so that my services may
not be lost." Then he grew tender over the youth and innocence of his
nephew, praising the liberality with which he had furnished one hundred
very choice soldiers; and the military council granted the prayer of
the uncle.
On the morning of July 16, Zygmunt with a few servants left the camp
openly for home, on the eve almost of a siege and a battle. Crowds of
nobles conducted him amid jeering cries to a distance beyond the camp.
Ostrojka led the party, and shouted from afar after the departing,--
"Worthy Pan Zygmunt, I give thee a shield, and as third name
Deest!"[13]
"Vivat Deest-Grudzinski!"
"But weep not for thy uncle," continued Ostrojka. "He despises the
Swedes as much as thou; and let them only show themselves, he will
surely turn his back on them."
The blood of the young magnate rushed to his face, but he pretended not
to hear the insults. He put spurs to his horse, however, and pushed
aside the crowds, so as to be away from the camp and his persecutors as
soon as possible, who at last, without consideration for the birth and
dignity of the departing, began to throw clods of earth at him and to
cry,--
"Here is a gruda, Grudzinski![14] You hare, you coward!"
They made such an uproar that the voevoda of Poznan hastened up with a
number of captains to quiet them, and explain that Grudzinski had taken
leave only for a week on very urgent affairs.
Still the evil example had its effect; and that same day there were
several hundred nobles who did not wish to be worse than Grudzinski,
though they slipped away with less aid and more quietly. Stanislav
Skshetuski, a captain from Kalisk and cousin of the famous Yan of
Zbaraj, tore the hair on his head; for his land infantry, following the
example of "officers," began to desert from the camp. A new council of
war was held in which crowds of nobles refused absolutely to take part.
A stormy night followed, full of shouts and quarrels. They suspected
one another of the intention to desert. Cries of "Either all or none!"
flew from mouth to mouth.
Every moment reports were given out that the voevodas were departing,
and such an uproar prevailed that the voevodas had to show themselves
several times to the excited multitude. A number of thousands of men
were on their horses before daybreak. But the voevoda of Poznan rode
between the ranks with uncovered head like a Roman senator, and
repeated from moment to moment the great words,--
"Worthy gentlemen, I am with you to live and die."
He was received in some places with vivats; in others shouts of
derision were thundering. The moment he had pacified the crowd he
returned to the council, tired, hoarse, carried away by the grandeur of
his own words, and convinced that he had rendered inestimable service
to his country that night. But at the council he had fewer words in his
mouth, twisted his beard, and pulled his foretop from despair,
repeating,--
"Give counsel if you can; I wash my hands of the future, for it is
impossible to make a defence with such soldiers."
"Serene great mighty voevoda," answered Stanislav Skshetuski, "the
enemy will drive away that turbulence and uproar. Only let the cannon
play, only let it come to defence, to a siege, these very nobles in
defence of their own lives must serve on the ramparts and not be
disorderly in camp. So it has happened more than once."
"With what can we defend ourselves? We have no cannon, nothing but
saluting pieces good to fire off in time of a feast."
"At Zbaraj Hmelnitski had seventy cannon, and Prince Yeremi only a few
eight-pounders and mortars."
"But he had an army, not militia,--his own squadrons famed in the
world, not country nobles fresh from sheep-shearing."
"Send for Pan Skorashevski," said the castellan of Poznan. "Make him
commander of the camp. He is at peace with the nobles, and will be able
to keep them in order."
"Send for Skorashevski. Why should he be in Drahim or Chaplinko?"
repeated Yendrei Grudzinski, the voevoda of Kalisk.
"Yes, that is the best counsel!" cried other voices.
A courier was despatched for Skorashevski. No other decisions were
taken at the council; but they talked much, and complained of the king,
the queen, the lack of troops, and negligence.
The following morning brought neither relief nor calm spirits. The
disorder had become still greater. Some gave out reports that the
dissidents, namely the Calvinists, were favorable to the Swedes, and
ready on the first occasion to go over to the enemy. What was more,
this news was not contradicted by Pan Shlihtyng nor by Edmund and
Yatsck Kurnatovski, also Calvinists, but sincerely devoted to the
country. Besides they gave final proof that the dissidents formed a
separate circle and consulted with one another under the lead of a
noted disturber and cruel man. Pan Rei, who serving in Germany during
his youth as a volunteer on the Lutheran side, was a great friend of
the Swedes. Scarcely had this suspicion gone out among the nobles when
several thousand sabres were gleaming, and a real tempest rose in the
camp.
"Let us punish the traitors, punish the serpents, ready to bite the
bosom of their mother!" cried the nobles.
"Give them this way!"
"Cut them to pieces! Treason is most infectious, worthy gentlemen. Tear
out the cockle or we shall all perish!"
The voevodas and captains had to pacify them again, but this time it
was more difficult than the day before. Besides, they were themselves
convinced that Rei was ready to betray his country in the most open
manner; for he was a man completely foreignized, and except his
language had nothing Polish in him. It was decided therefore to send
him out of the camp, which at once pacified somewhat the angry
multitude. Still shouts continued to burst forth for a long time,--
"Give them here! Treason, treason!"
Wonderful conditions of mind reigned finally in the camp. Some fell in
courage and were sunk in grief; others walked in silence, with
uncertain steps, along the ramparts, casting timid and gloomy glances
along the plains over which the enemy had to approach, or communicated
in whispers worse and worse news. Others were possessed of a sort of
desperate, mad joy and readiness for death. In consequence of this
readiness they arranged feasts and drinking-bouts so as to pass the
last days of life in rejoicing. Some thought of saving their souls, and
spent the nights in prayer. But in that whole throng of men no one
thought of victory, as if it were altogether beyond reach. Still the
enemy had not superior forces; they had more cannon, better trained
troops, and a leader who understood war.
And while in this wise on one side the Polish camp was seething,
shouting, and feasting, rising up with a roar, dropping down to quiet,
like a sea lashed by a whirlwind, while the general militia were
holding diets as in time of electing a king, on the other side, along
the broad green meadows of the Oder, pushed forward in calmness the
legions of Sweden.
In front marched a brigade of the royal guard, led by Benedykt Horn, a
terrible soldier, whose name was repeated in Germany with fear. The
soldiers were chosen men, large, wearing lofty helmets with rims
covering their ears, in yellow leather doublets, armed with rapiers and
muskets; cool and constant in battle, ready at every beck of the
leader.
Karl Schedding, a German, led the West Gothland brigade, formed of two
regiments of infantry and one of heavy cavalry, dressed in armor
without shoulder-pieces. Half of the infantry had muskets; the others
spears. At the beginning of a battle the musketeers stood in front, but
in case of attack by cavalry they stood behind the spearmen, who,
placing each the butt of his spear in the ground, held the point
against the onrushing horses. At a battle in the time of Sigismund III.
one squadron of hussars cut to pieces with their sabres and with hoofs
this same West Gothland brigade, in which at present Germans served
mainly.
The two Smaland brigades were led by Irwin, surnamed Handless, for he
had lost his right hand on a time while defending his flag; but to make
up for this loss he had in his left such strength that with one blow he
could hew off the head of a horse. He was a gloomy warrior, loving
battles and bloodshed alone, stern to himself and to soldiers. While
other captains trained themselves in continual wars into followers of a
craft, and loved war for its own sake, he remained the same fanatic,
and while slaying men he sang psalms to the Lord.
The brigade of Westrmanland marched under Drakenborg; and that of
Helsingor, formed of sharpshooters famed through the world, under
Gustav Oxenstiern, a relative of the renowned chancellor,--a young
soldier who roused great hopes. Fersen commanded the East Gothland
brigade; the Nerik and Werland brigades were directed by Wittemberg
himself, who at the same time was supreme chief of the whole army.
Seventy-two cannon pounded out furrows in the moist meadows; of
soldiers there were seventeen thousand, the fierce plunderers of all
Germany, and in battle they were so accurate, especially the infantry,
that the French royal guard could hardly compare with them. After the
regiments followed the wagons and tents. The regiments marched in line,
ready each moment for battle. A forest of lances was bristling above
the mass of heads, helmets, and hats; and in the midst of that forest
flowed on toward the frontier of Poland the great blue banners with
white crosses in the centre. With each day the distance decreased
between the two armies.
At last on July 27, in the forest at the village of Heinrichsdorf, the
Swedish legions beheld for the first time the boundary pillar of
Poland. At sight of this the whole army gave forth a mighty shout;
trumpets and drums thundered, and all the flags were unfurled.
Wittemberg rode to the front attended by a brilliant staff, and all the
regiments passed before him, presenting arms,--the cavalry with drawn
rapiers, the cannon with lighted matches. The time was midday; the
weather glorious. The forest breeze brought the odor of resin.
The gray road, covered with the rays of the sun,--the road over which
the Swedish regiments had passed,--bending out of the Heinrichsdorf
forest, was lost on the horizon. When the troops marching by it had
finally passed the forest, their glances discovered a gladsome land,
smiling, shining with yellow fields of every kind of grain, dotted in
places with oak groves, in places green from meadows. Here and there
out of groups of trees, behind oak groves and far away rose bits of
smoke to the sky; on the grass herds were seen grazing. Where on the
meadows the water gleamed widely spread, walked storks at their
leisure.
A certain calm and sweetness was spread everywhere over that land
flowing with milk and honey, and it seemed to open its arms ever wider
and wider before the army, as if it greeted not invaders but guests
coming with God.
At this sight a new shout was wrested from the bosoms of all the
soldiers, especially the Swedes by blood, who were accustomed to the
bare, poor, wild nature of their native land. The hearts of a
plundering and needy people rose with desire to gather those treasures
and riches which appeared before their eyes. Enthusiasm seized the
ranks.
But the soldiers, tempered in the fire of the Thirty Years' War,
expected that this would not come to them easily; for that grainland
was inhabited by a numerous and a knightly people, who knew how to
defend it. The memory was still living in Sweden of the terrible defeat
of Kirchholm, where three thousand cavalry under Hodkyevich ground into
dust eighteen thousand of the best troops of Sweden. In the cottages of
West Gothland, Smaland, or Delakarlia they told tales of those winged
knights, as of giants from a saga. Fresher still was the memory of the
struggles in the time of Gustavus Adolphus, for the warriors were not
yet extinct who had taken part in them. But that eagle of Scandinavia,
ere he had flown twice through all Germany, broke his talons on the
legions of Konyetspolski.
Therefore with the gladness there was joined in the hearts of the
Swedes a certain fear, of which the supreme chief, Wittemberg himself,
was not free. He looked on the passing regiments of infantry and
cavalry with the eye with which a shepherd looks on his flock;
then he turned to the rear man, who wore a hat with a feather, and a
light-colored wig falling to his shoulders.
"Your grace assures me," said he, "that with these forces it is
possible to break the army occupying Uistsie?"
The man with the light wig smiled and answered: "Your grace may rely
completely on my words, for which I am ready to pledge my head. If at
Uistsie there were regular troops and some one of the hetmans, I first
would give counsel not to hasten, but to wait till his royal Grace
should come with the whole army; but against the general militia and
those gentlemen of Great Poland our forces will be more than
sufficient."
"But have not reinforcements come to them?"
"Reinforcements have not come for two reasons,--first, because all the
regular troops, of which there are not many, are occupied in Lithuania
and the Ukraine; second, because in Warsaw neither the King Yan
Kazimir, the chancellor, nor the senate will believe to this moment
that his royal Grace Karl Gustav has really begun war in spite of the
truce, and notwithstanding the last embassies and his readiness to
compromise. They are confident that peace will be made at the last
hour,--ha, ha!"
Here the rear man removed his hat, wiped the sweat from his red face,
and added: "Trubetskoi and Dolgoruki in Lithuania, Hmelnitski in the
Ukraine, and we entering Great Poland,--behold what the government of
Yan Kazimir has led to."
Wittemberg gazed on him with a look of astonishment, and asked, "But,
your grace, do you rejoice at the thought?"
"I rejoice at the thought, for my wrong and my innocence will be
avenged; and besides I see, as on the palm of my hand, that the sabre
of your grace and my counsels will place that new and most beautiful
crown in the world on the head of Karl Gustav."
Wittemberg turned his glance to the distance, embraced with it the
oak-groves, the meadows, the grain-fields, and after a while said:
"True, it is a beautiful country and fertile. Your grace may be sure
that after the war the king will give the chancellorship to no one else
but you."
The man in the rear removed his cap a second time. "And I, for my part,
wish to have no other lord," added he, raising his eyes to heaven.
The heavens were clear and fair; no thunderbolt fell and crashed to the
dust the traitor who delivered his country, groaning under two wars
already and exhausted, to the power of the enemy on that boundary.
The man conversing with Wittemberg was Hieronim Kailzeyovski, late
under-chancellor of the Crown, now sold to Sweden in hostility to his
country.
They stood a time in silence. Meanwhile the last two brigades, those of
Nerik and Wermland, passed the boundary; after them others began to
draw in the cannon; the trumpets still played unceasingly; the roar and
rattle of drums outsounded the tramp of the soldiers, and filled the
forest with ominous echoes. At last the staff moved also. Radzeyovski
rode at the side of Wittemberg.
"Oxenstiern is not to be seen," said Wittemberg. "I am afraid that
something may have happened to him. I do not know whether it was wise
to send him as a trumpeter with letters to Uistsie."
"It was wise," answered Radzeyovski, "for he will look at the camp,
will see the leaders, and learn what they think there; and this any
kind of camp-follower could not do."
"But if they recognize him?"
"Rei alone knows him, and he is ours. Besides, even if they should
recognize him, they will do him no harm, but will give him supplies for
the road and reward him. I know the Poles, and I know they are ready
for anything, merely to show themselves polite people before strangers.
Our whole effort is to win the praise of strangers. Your grace may be
at rest concerning Oxenstiern, for a hair will not fall from his head.
He has not come because it is too soon for his return."
"And does your grace think our letters will have any effect?"
Radzeyovski laughed. "If your grace permits, I will foretell what will
happen. The voevoda of Poznan is a polished and learned man, therefore
he will answer us very courteously and very graciously; but because he
loves to pass for a Roman, his answer will be terribly Roman. He will
say, to begin with, that he would rather shed the last drop of his
blood than surrender, that death is better than dishonor, and the love
which he bears his country directs him to fall for her on the
boundary."
Radzeyovski laughed still louder. The stern face of Wittemberg
brightened also.
"Your grace does not think that he will be ready to act as he writes?"
asked Wittemberg.
"He?" answered Radzeyovski. "It is true that he nourishes a love for
his country, but with ink; and that is not over-strong food. His love
is in fact more scant than that of his jester who helps him to put
rhymes together. I am certain that after that Roman answer will come
good wishes for health, success, offers of service, and at last a
request to spare his property and that of his relatives, for which
again he with all his relatives will be thankful."
"And what at last will be the result of our letters?"
"The courage of the other side will weaken to the last degree, senators
will begin to negotiate with us, and we shall occupy all Great Poland
after perhaps a few shots in the air."
"Would that your grace be a true prophet!"
"I am certain that it will be as I say, for I know these people. I have
friends and adherents in the whole country, and I know how to begin.
And that I shall neglect nothing is made sure by the wrong which I
endure from Yan Kazimir, and my love for Karl Gustav. People with us
are more tender at present about their own fortunes than the integrity
of the Commonwealth. All those lands upon which we shall now march are
the estates of the Opalinskis, the Charnkovskis, the Grudzinskis; and
because they are at Uistsie in person they will be milder in
negotiating. As to the nobles, if only their freedom of disputing at
the diets is guaranteed, they will follow the voevodas."
"By knowledge of the country and the people your grace renders the king
unexampled service, which cannot remain without an equally noteworthy
reward. Therefore from what you say I conclude that I may look on this
land as ours."
"You may, your grace, you may, you may," repeated Radzeyovski
hurriedly, a number of times.
"Therefore I occupy it in the name of his Royal Grace Karl Gustav,"
answered Wittemberg, solemnly.
While the Swedish troops were thus beginning beyond Heinrichsdorf to
walk on the land of Great Poland, and even earlier, for it was on July
18, a Swedish trumpeter arrived at the Polish camp with letters from
Radzeyovski and Wittemberg to the voevodas.
Vladyslav Skorashevski himself conducted the trumpeter to the voevoda
of Poznan, and the nobles of the general militia gazed with curiosity
on the "first Swede," wondering at his valiant bearing, his manly face,
his blond mustaches, the ends combed upward in a broad brush, and his
really lordlike mien. Crowds followed him to the voevoda; acquaintances
called to one another, pointing him out with their fingers, laughed
somewhat at his boots with enormous round legs, and at the long
straight rapier, which they called a spit, hanging from a belt richly
worked with silver. The Swede also cast curious glances from under his
broad hat, as if wishing to examine the camp and estimate the forces,
and then looked repeatedly at the crowd of nobles whose oriental
costumes were apparently novel to him. At last he was brought to the
voevoda, around whom were grouped all the dignitaries in the camp.
The letters were read immediately, and a council held. The voevoda
committed the trumpeter to his attendants to be entertained in soldier
fashion; the nobles took him from the attendants, and wondering at the
man as a curiosity, began to drink for life and death with him.
Pan Skorashevski looked at the Swede with equal scrutiny; but because
he suspected him to be some officer in disguise, he went in fact to
convey that idea in the evening to the voevoda. The latter, however,
said it was all one, and did not permit his arrest.
"Though he were Wittemberg himself, he has come hither as an envoy and
should go away unmolested. In addition I command you to give him ten
ducats for the road."
The trumpeter meanwhile was talking in broken German with those nobles
who, through intercourse with Prussian towns, understood that language.
He told them of victories won by Wittemberg in various lands, of the
forces marching against Uistsie, and especially of the cannon of a
range hitherto unknown and which could not be resisted. The nobles were
troubled at this, and no small number of exaggerated accounts began to
circulate through the camp.
That night scarcely any one slept in Uistsie. About midnight those men
came in who had stood hitherto in separate camps, at Pila and Vyelunie.
The dignitaries deliberated over their answer to the letters till
daylight, and the nobles passed the time in stories about the power of
the Swedes.
With a certain feverish curiosity they asked the trumpeter about the
leaders of the army, the weapons, the method of fighting; and every
answer of his was given from mouth to mouth. The nearness of the
Swedish legions lent unusual interest to all the details, which were
not of a character to give consolation.
About daylight Stanislav Skshetuski came with tidings that the Swedes
had arrived at Valch, one day's march from the Polish camp. There rose
at once a terrible hubbub; most of the horses with the servants were at
pasture on the meadows. They were sent for then with all haste.
Districts mounted and formed squadrons. The moment before battle was
for the untrained soldier the most terrible; therefore before the
captains were able to introduce any kind of system there reigned for a
long time desperate disorder.
Neither commands nor trumpets could be heard; nothing but voices crying
on every side: "Yan! Pyotr! Onufri! This way! I wish thou wert killed!
Bring the horses! Where are my men? Yan! Pyotr!" If at that moment one
cannon-shot had been heard, the disorder might easily have been turned
to a panic.
Gradually, however, the districts were ranged in order. The inborn
capacity of the nobles for war made up for the want of experience, and
about midday the camp presented an appearance imposing enough.
The infantry stood on the ramparts looking like flowers in their
many-colored coats, smoke was borne away from the lighted matches, and
outside the ramparts under cover of the guns the meadows and plain were
swarming with the district squadrons of cavalry standing in line on
sturdy horses, whose neighing roused an echo in the neighboring forests
and filled all hearts with military ardor.
Meanwhile the voevoda of Poznan sent away the trumpeter with an answer
to the letter reading more or less as Radzeyovski had foretold,
therefore both courteous and Roman; then he determined to send a party
to the northern bank of the Notets to seize an informant from the
enemy.
Pyotr Opalinski, voevoda of Podlyasye, a cousin of the voevoda Poznan,
was to go in person with a party together with his own dragoons, a
hundred and fifty of whom he had brought to Uistsie; and besides this
it was given to Captains Skorashevski and Skshetuski to call out
volunteers from the nobles of the general militia, so that they might
also look in the eyes of the enemy.
Both rode before the ranks, delighting the eye by manner and
posture,--Pan Stanislav black as a beetle, like all the Skshetuskis,
with a manly face, stern and adorned with a long sloping scar which
remained from a sword-blow, with raven black beard blown aside by the
wind; Pan Vladyslav portly, with long blond mustaches, open under
lip, and eyes with red lids, mild and honest, reminding one less of
Mars,--but none the less a genuine soldier spirit, as glad to be in
fire as a salamander,--a knight knowing war as his ten fingers, and of
incomparable daring. Both, riding before the ranks extended in a long
line, repeated from moment to moment,--
"Now, gracious gentlemen, who is the volunteer against the Swedes? Who
wants to smell powder? Well, gracious gentlemen, volunteer!"
And so they continued for a good while without result, for no man
pushed forward from the ranks. One looked at another. There were those
who desired to go and had no fear of the Swedes, but indecision
restrained them. More than one nudged his neighbor and said, "Go you,
and then I'll go." The captains were growing impatient, till all at
once, when they had ridden up to the district of Gnyezno, a certain man
dressed in many colors sprang forth on a hoop, not from the line but
from behind the line, and cried,--
"Gracious gentlemen of the militia, I'll be the volunteer and ye will
be jesters!"
"Ostrojka! Ostrojka!" cried the nobles.
"I am just as good a noble as any of you!" answered the jester.
"Tfu! to a hundred devils!" cried Pan Rosinski; under-judge, "a truce
to jesting! I will go."
"And I! and I!" cried numerous voices.
"Once my mother bore me, once for me is death!"
"As good as thou will be found!"
"Freedom to each. Let no man here exalt himself above others."
And as no one had come forth before, so now nobles began to rush out
from every district, spurring forward their horses, disputing with one
another and fighting to advance. In the twinkle of an eye there were
five hundred horsemen, and still they were riding forth from the ranks.
Pan Skorashevski began to laugh with his honest, open laugh.
"Enough, worthy gentlemen, enough! We cannot all go."
Then the two captains put the men in order and marched.
The voevoda of Podlyasye joined the horsemen as they were riding out of
camp. They were seen as on the palm of the hand crossing the Notets;
after that they glittered some time on the windings of the road, then
vanished from sight.
At the expiration of half an hour the voevoda of Poznan ordered the
troops to their tents, for he saw that it was impossible to keep them
in the ranks when the enemy were still a day's march distant. Numerous
pickets were thrown out, however; it was not permitted to drive horses
to pasture, and the order was given that at the first low sound of the
trumpet through the mouthpiece all were to mount and be ready.
Expectation and uncertainty had come to an end, quarrels and disputes
were finished at once, for the nearness of the enemy had raised their
courage as Pan Skshetuski had predicted. The first successful battle
might raise it indeed very high; and in the evening an event took place
which seemed of happy omen.
The sun was just setting,--lighting with enormous glitter, dazzling the
eyes, the Notets, and the pine-woods beyond,--when on the other side of
the river was seen first a cloud of dust, and then men moving in the
cloud. All that was living went out on the ramparts to see what manner
of guests these were. At that moment a dragoon of the guards rushed in
from the squadron of Pan Grudzinski with intelligence that the horsemen
were returning.
"The horsemen are returning with success! The Swedes have not eaten
them!" was repeated from mouth to mouth.
Meanwhile they in bright rolls of dust approached nearer and nearer,
coming slowly; then they crossed the Notets.
The nobles with their hands over their eyes gazed at them; for the
glitter became each moment greater, and the whole air was filled with
gold and purple light.
"Hei! the party is somewhat larger than when it went out," said
Shlihtyng.
"They must be bringing prisoners, as God is dear to me!" cried a noble,
apparently without confidence and not believing his eyes.
"They are bringing prisoners! They are bringing prisoners!"
They had now come so near that their faces could be recognized. In
front rode Skorashevski, nodding his head as usual and talking joyously
with Skshetuski; after them the strong detachment of horse surrounded a
few tens of infantry wearing round hats. They were really Swedish
prisoners.
At this sight the nobles could not contain themselves; and ran forward
with shouts: "Vivat Skorashevski! Vivat Skshetuski!"
A dense crowd surrounded the party at once. Some looked at the
prisoners; some asked, "How was the affair?" others threatened the
Swedes.
"Ah-hu! Well now, good for you, ye dogs! Ye wanted to war with the
Poles? Ye have the Poles now!"
"Give them here! Sabre them, make mince-meat of them!"
"Ha, broad-breeches! ye have tried the Polish sabres?"
"Gracious gentlemen, don't shout like little boys, for the prisoners
will think that this is your first war," said Skorashevski; "it is a
common thing to take prisoners in time of war."
The volunteers who belonged to the party looked with pride on the
nobles who overwhelmed them with questions: "How was it? Did they
surrender easily? Had you to sweat over them? Do they fight well?"
"They are good fellows," said Rosinski, "they defended themselves well;
but they are not iron,--a sabre cuts them."
"So they couldn't resist you, could they?"
"They could not resist the impetus."
"Gracious gentlemen, do you hear what is said,--they could not resist
the impetus. Well, what does that mean? Impetus is the main thing."
"Remember if only there is impetus!--that is the best method against
the Swedes."
If at that moment those nobles had been commanded to rush at the enemy,
surely impetus would not have been lacking; but it was well into the
night when the sound of a trumpet was heard before the forepost. A
trumpeter arrived with a letter from Wittemberg summoning the nobles to
surrender. The crowds hearing of this wanted to cut the messenger to
pieces; but the voevodas took the letter into consideration, though the
substance of it was insolent.
The Swedish general announced that Karl Gustav sent his troops to his
relative Yan Kazimir, as reinforcements against the Cossacks, that
therefore the people of Great Poland should yield without resistance.
Pan Grudzinski on reading this letter could not restrain his
indignation, and struck the table with his fist; but the voevoda of
Poznan quieted him at once with the question,--
"Do you believe in victory? How many days can we defend ourselves? Do
you wish to take the responsibility for so much noble blood which may
be shed to-morrow?"
After a long deliberation it was decided not to answer, and to wait for
what would happen. They did not wait long. On Saturday, July 24, the
pickets announced that the whole Swedish army had appeared before Pila.
There was as much bustle in camp as in a beehive on the eve of
swarming.
The nobles mounted their horses; the voevodas hurried along the ranks,
giving contradictory commands till Vladyslav Skorashevski took
everything in hand; and when he had established order he rode out at
the head of a few hundred volunteers to try skirmishing beyond the
river and accustom the men to look at the enemy.
The cavalry went with him willingly enough, for skirmishing consisted
generally of struggles carried on by small groups or singly, and such
struggles the nobles trained to sword exercise did not fear at all.
They went out therefore beyond the river, and stood before the enemy,
who approached nearer and nearer, and blackened with a long line the
horizon, as if a grove had grown freshly from the ground. Regiments of
cavalry and infantry deployed, occupying more and more space.
The nobles expected that skirmishers on horseback might rush against
them at any moment. So far they were not to be seen; but on the low
hills a few hundred yards distant small groups halted, in which were to
be seen men and horses, and they began to turn around on the place.
Seeing this, Skorashevski commanded without delay, "To the left! to the
rear!"
But the voice of command had not yet ceased to sound when on the hills
long white curls of smoke bloomed forth, and as it were birds of some
kind flew past with a whistle among the nobles; then a report shook the
air, and at the same moment were heard cries and groans of a few
wounded.
"Halt!" cried Skorashevski.
The birds flew past a second and a third time; again groans accompanied
the whistle. The nobles did not listen to the command of the chief, but
retreated at increased speed, shouting, and calling for the aid of
heaven. Then the division scattered, in the twinkle of an eye, over the
plain, and rushed on a gallop to the camp. Skorashevski was cursing,
but that did no good.
Wittemberg, having dispersed the skirmishers so easily, pushed on
farther, till at last he stood in front of Uistsie, straight before the
trenches defended by the nobles of Kalish. The Polish guns began to
play, but at first no answer was made from the Swedish side. The smoke
fell away quietly in the clear air in long streaks stretching between
the armies, and in the spaces between them the nobles saw the Swedish
regiments, infantry and cavalry, deploying with terrible coolness as if
certain of victory.
On the hills the cannon were fixed, trenches raised; in a word, the
enemy came into order without paying the least attention to the balls
which, without reaching them, merely scattered sand and earth on the
men working in the trenches.
Pan Skshetuski led out once more two squadrons of the men of Kalish,
wishing by a bold attack to confuse the Swedes. But they did not go
willingly; the division fell at once into a disorderly crowd, for when
the most daring urged their horses forward the most cowardly held
theirs back on purpose. Two regiments of cavalry sent by Wittemberg
drove the nobles from the field after a short struggle, and pursued
them to the camp. Now dusk came, and put an end to the bloodless
strife.
There was firing from cannon till night, when firing ceased; but such a
tumult rose in the Polish camp that it was heard on the other bank of
the Notets. It rose first for the reason that a few hundred of the
general militia tried to slip away in the darkness. Others, seeing
this, began to threaten and detain them. Sabres were drawn. The words
"Either all or none" flew again from mouth to mouth. At every moment it
seemed most likely that all would go. Great dissatisfaction burst out
against the leaders: "They sent us with naked breasts against cannon,"
cried the militia.
They were enraged in like degree against Wittemberg, because without
regard to the customs of war he had not sent skirmishers against
skirmishers, but had ordered to fire on them unexpectedly from cannon.
"Every one will do for himself what is best," said they; "but it is the
custom of a swinish people not to meet face to face." Others were in
open despair. "They will smoke us out of this place like badgers out of
a hole," said they. "The camp is badly planned, the trenches are badly
made, the place is not fitted for defence." From time to time voices
were heard: "Save yourselves, brothers!" Still others cried: "Treason!
treason!"
That was a terrible night: confusion and relaxation increased every
moment; no one listened to commands. The voevodas lost their heads, and
did not even try to restore order; and the imbecility of the general
militia appeared as clearly as on the palm of the hand. Wittemberg
might have taken the camp by assault on that night with the greatest
ease.
Dawn came. The day broke pale, cloudy, and lighted a chaotic gathering
of people fallen in courage, lamenting, and the greater number drunk,
more ready for shame than for battle. To complete the misfortune, the
Swedes had crossed the Notets at Dzyembovo and surrounded the Polish
camp.
At that side there were scarcely any trenches, and there was nothing
from behind which they could defend themselves. They should have raised
breastworks without delay. Skorashevski and Skshetuski had implored to
have this done, but no one would listen to anything.
The leaders and the nobles had one word on their lips, "Negotiate!" Men
were sent out to parley. In answer there came from the Swedish camp a
brilliant party, at the head of which rode Radzeyovski and General
Wirtz, both with green branches.
They rode to the house in which the voevoda of Poznan was living; but
on the way Radzeyovski stopped amid the crowd of nobles, bowed with the
branch, with his hat, laughed, greeted his acquaintances, and said in a
piercing voice,--
"Gracious gentlemen, dearest brothers, be not alarmed! Not as enemies
do we come. On you it depends whether a drop of blood more will be
shed. If you wish instead of a tyrant who is encroaching on your
liberties, who is planning for absolute power, who has brought the
country to final destruction,--if you wish, I repeat, a good ruler, a
noble one, a warrior of such boundless glory that at bare mention of
his name all the enemies of the Commonwealth will flee,--give
yourselves under the protection of the most serene Karl Gustav.
Gracious gentlemen, dearest brothers, behold, I bring to you the
guarantee of all your liberties, of your freedom, of your religion. On
yourselves your salvation depends. Gracious gentlemen, the most serene
Swedish king undertakes to quell the Cossack rebellion, to finish the
war in Lithuania; and only he can do that. Take pity on the unfortunate
country if you have no pity on yourselves."
Here the voice of the traitor quivered as if stopped by tears. The
nobles listened with astonishment; here and there scattered voices
cried, "Vivat Radzeyovski, our vice-chancellor!" He rode farther, and
again bowed to new throngs, and again was heard his trumpet-like voice:
"Gracious gentlemen, dearest brothers!" And at last he and Wirtz with
the whole retinue vanished in the house of the voevoda of Poznan.
The nobles crowded so closely before the house that it would have been
possible to ride on their heads, for they felt and understood that
there in that house men were deciding the question not only of them but
of the whole country. The servants of the voevodas, in scarlet colors,
came out and began to invite the more important personages to the
council. They entered quickly, and after them burst in a few of the
smaller; but the rest remained at the door, they pressed to the
windows, put their ears even to the walls.
A deep silence reigned in the throng. Those standing nearest the
windows heard from time to time the sound of shrill voices from within
the chamber, as it were the echo of quarrels, disputes, and fights.
Hour followed hour, and no end to the council.
Suddenly the doors wore thrown open with a crash, and out burst
Vladyslav Skorashevski. Those present pushed back in astonishment. That
man, usually so calm and mild, of whom it was said that wounds might be
healed under his hand, had that moment a terrible face. His eyes were
red, his look wild, his clothing torn open on his breast; both hands
were grasping his hair, and he rushed out like a thunderbolt among the
nobles, and cried with a piercing voice,--
"Treason! murder! shame! We are Sweden now, and Poland no longer!"
He began to roar with an awful voice, with a spasmodic cry, and to tear
his hair like a man who is losing his reason. A silence of the grave
reigned all around. A certain fearful foreboding seized all hearts.
Skorashevski sprang away quickly, began to run among the nobles and cry
with a voice of the greatest despair: "To arms, to arms, whoso believes
in God! To arms, to arms!"
Then certain murmurs began to fly through the throngs,--certain
momentary whispers, sudden and broken, like the first beatings of the
wind before a storm. Hearts hesitated, minds hesitated, and in that
universal distraction of feelings the tragic voice was calling
continually, "To arms, to arms!"
Soon two other voices joined his,--those of Pyotr Skorashevski and
Stanislav Shshetuski. After them ran up Klodzinski, the gallant captain
of the district of Pozpan. An increasing circle of nobles began to
surround them. A threatening murmur was heard round about; flames ran
over the faces and shot out of the eyes; sabres rattled. Vladyslav
Skorashevski mastered the first transport, and began to speak, pointing
to the house in which the council was being held,--
"Do you hear, gracious gentlemen? They are selling the country there
like Judases, and disgracing it. Do you know that we belong to Poland
no longer? It was not enough for them to give into the hands of the
enemy all of you,--camp, army, cannon. Would they were killed! They
have affirmed with their own signatures and in your names that we
abjure our ties with the country, that we abjure our king; that the
whole land--towns, towers, and we all--shall belong forever to Sweden.
That an army surrenders happens, but who has the right to renounce his
country and his king? Who has the right to tear away a province, to
join strangers, to go over to another people, to renounce his own
blood? Gracious gentlemen, this is disgrace, treason, murder,
parricide! Save the fatherland, brothers! In God's name, whoever is a
noble, whoever has virtue, let him save our mother. Let us give our
lives, let us shed our blood! We do not want to be Swedes; we do not,
we do not! Would that he had never been born who will spare his blood
now! Let us rescue our mother!"
"Treason!" cried several hundred voices, "treason! Let us cut them to
pieces."
"Join us, whoever has virtue!" cried Skshetuski.
"Against the Swedes till death!" added Klodzinski.
And they went along farther in the camp, shouting: "Join us! Assemble!
There is treason!" and after them moved now several hundred nobles with
drawn sabres.
But an immense majority remained in their places; and of those who
followed some, seeing that they were not many, began to look around and
stand still.
Now the door of the council-house was thrown open, and in it appeared
the voevoda of Poznan, Pan Opalinski, having on his right side General
Wirtz, and on the left Radzeyovski. After them came Andrei Grudzinski,
voevoda of Kalisk; Myaskovski, castellan of Kryvinsk; Gembitski,
castellan of Myendzyrechka, and Andrei Slupski.
Pan Opalinski had in his hand a parchment with seals appended; he held
his head erect, but his face was pale and his look uncertain, though
evidently he was trying to be joyful. He took in with his glance the
crowds, and in the midst of a deathlike silence began to speak with a
piercing though somewhat hoarse voice,--
"Gracious gentlemen, this day we have put ourselves under the
protection of the most serene King of Sweden. Vivat Carolus Gustavus
Rex!"
Silence gave answer to the voevoda; suddenly some loud voice thundered,
"Veto!"
The voevoda turned his eyes in the direction of the voice and said:
"This is not a provincial diet, therefore a veto is not in place. And
whoever wishes to veto let him go against the Swedish cannon turned
upon us, which in one hour could make of this camp a pile of ruins."
Then he was silent, and after a while inquired, "Who said Veto?"
No one answered.
The voevoda again raised his voice, and began still more emphatically:
"All the liberties of the nobles and the clergy will be maintained;
taxes will not be increased, and will be collected in the same manner
as hitherto; no man will suffer wrongs or robbery. The armies of his
royal Majesty have not the right to quarter on the property of nobles
nor to other exactions, unless to such as the quota of the Polish
squadrons enjoy."
Here he was silent, and heard an anxious murmur of the nobles, as if
they wished to understand his meaning; then he beckoned with his hand.
"Besides this, we have the word and promise of General Wirtz, given in
the name of his royal Majesty, that if the whole country will follow
our saving example, the Swedish armies will move promptly into
Lithuania and the Ukraine, and will not cease to war until all the
lands and all the fortresses of the Commonwealth are won back. Vivat
Carolus Gustavus Rex!"
"Vivat Carolus Gustavus Rex!" cried hundreds of voices. "Vivat Carolus
Gustavus Rex!" thundered still more loudly in the whole camp.
Here, before the eyes of all, the voevoda of Poznan turned to
Radzeyovski and embraced him heartily; then he embraced Wirtz; then all
began to embrace one another. The nobles followed the example of the
dignitaries, and joy became universal. They gave vivats so loud that
the echoes thundered throughout the whole region. But the voevoda of
Poznan begged yet the beloved brotherhood for a moment of quiet, and
said in a tone of cordiality,--
"Gracious gentlemen! General Wittemberg invites us today to a feast in
his camp, so that at the goblets a brotherly alliance may be concluded
with a manful people."
"Vivat Wittemberg! vivat! vivat! vivat!"
"And after that, gracious gentlemen," added the voevoda, "let us go to
our homes, and with the assistance of God let us begin the harvest with
the thought that on this day we have saved the fatherland."
"Coming ages will render us justice," said Radzeyovski.
"Amen!" finished the voevoda of Poznan.
Meanwhile he saw that the eyes of many nobles were gazing at and
scanning something above his head. He turned and saw his own jester,
who, holding with one hand to the frame above the door, was writing
with a coal on the wall of the council-house over the door: "Mene
Tekel-Peres."[15]
In the world the heavens were covered with clouds, and a tempest was
coming.