That same night the prince held a long consultation with the voevoda of
Venden and with the Swedish envoys. The result of the treaty had
disappointed his expectations, and disclosed to him a threatening
future. It was the prince's plan to make the announcement in time of
feasting, when minds are excited and inclined to agreement. He expected
opposition in every event, but he counted on adherents also; meanwhile
the energy of the protest had exceeded his reckoning. Save a few tens
of Calvinist nobles and a handful of officers of foreign origin, who as
strangers could have no voice in the question, all declared against the
treaty concluded with Karl Gustav, or rather with his field-marshal and
brother-in-law, Pontus de la Gardie.
The prince had given orders, it is true, to arrest the stubborn
officers of the army, but what of that? What will the squadrons say?
Will they not think of their colonels? Will they not rise in mutiny to
rescue their officers by force? If they do, what will remain to the
proud prince beyond a few dragoon regiments and foreign infantry? Then
the whole country, all the armed nobles, and Sapyeha, voevoda of
Vityebsk,--a terrible opponent of the house of Radzivill, ready to
fight with the whole world in the name of the unity of the
Commonwealth? Other colonels whose heads he cannot cut off, and Polish
squadrons will go to Sapyeha, who will stand at the head of all the
forces of the country, and Prince Radzivill will see himself without an
army, without adherents, without significance. What will happen then?
These were terrible questions, for the position was terrible. The
prince knew well that if he were deserted the treaty on which he had
toiled so much in secret would by the force of events lose all meaning
and the Swedes would despise him, or take revenge for the discovered
deceit. But he had given them his Birji as a guaranty of his loyalty;
by that he had weakened himself the more.
Karl Gustav was ready to scatter rewards and honors with both hands for
a powerful Radzivill, but Radzivill weak and deserted by all he would
despise; and if the changing wheel of fortune should send victory to
Yan Kazimir, final destruction would come to that lord who this day in
the morning had no equal in the Commonwealth.
When the envoys and the voevoda of Venden had gone, the prince seized
with both hands his head weighed down with care, and began to walk with
swift steps through the room. From without came the voices of the
Scottish guards and the rattle of the departing carriages of the
nobles. They drove away quickly and hurriedly, as if a pest had fallen
on the lordly castle of Kyedani. A terrible disquiet rent the soul of
Radzivill. At times it seemed to him that besides himself there was
some other person who walked behind him and whispered in his ear,
"Abandonment, poverty, and infamy as well!" But he, the voevoda of
Vilna and grand hetman, was already trampled upon and humiliated! Who
would have admitted yesterday that in all Kyedani, in Lithuania, nay,
in the whole world, there could be found a man who would dare to shout
before his eyes, "Traitor!" Nevertheless he had heard it, and he lives
yet, and they who spoke that word are living too. Perhaps if he were to
re-enter that hall of the banquet he would still hear as an echo among
the cornices and under the vaults, "Traitor! traitor!"
And wild, mad rage seized at moments the breast of the oligarch. His
nostrils dilated, his eyes shot lightnings, veins came out on his
forehead. Who here dares to oppose his will? His enraged mind brought
before his eyes the picture of punishments and torments for rebels who
had the daring not to follow his feet like a dog. And he saw their
blood flowing from the axes of executioners, he heard the crunching of
their bones broken by the wheel, and he took delight in and sated
himself with visions of blood.
But when more sober judgment reminded him that behind those rebels is
an army, that he cannot take their heads with impunity, an unendurable
and hellish unquiet came back and filled his soul, and some one
whispered anew in his ear, "Abandonment, poverty, judgment, and
infamy!"
How is that? Is it not permitted to Radzivill to decide the fate of the
country,--to retain it for Yan Kazimir or give it to Karl Gustav,--to
give, to convey, to present, to whom it may please him?
The magnate looked before himself with amazement.
Who then are the Radzivills? Who were they yesterday? What was said
everywhere in Lithuania? Was that all deception? Will not Prince
Boguslav join the grand hetman with his regiments, after him his uncle
the Elector of Brandenberg, and after all three Karl Gustav, the
Swedish king, with all his victorious power, before which recently all
Germany trembled through the length and the breadth of it? Did not the
Polish Commonwealth itself extend its arms to the new master, and yield
at the mere report of the approach of the lion of the North? Who will
offer resistance to that unrestrained power?
On one side the King of Sweden, the Elector of Brandenberg, the
Radzivills, in case of necessity Hmelnitski too, with all his power,
and the hospodar of Wallachia, and Rakotsy of Transylvania,--almost
half Europe; on the other side the voevoda of Vityebsk with Mirski, Pan
Stankyevich, and those three nobles who had just come from Lukovo, and
also a few rebellious squadrons! What is that?--a jest, an amusement.
Then suddenly the prince began to laugh loudly. "By Lucifer and all the
Diet of hell, it must be that I have gone mad! Let them all go to the
voevoda of Vityebsk!"
But after a while his face had grown gloomy again: "The powerful admit
only powerful to alliance. Radzivill casting Lithuania at the feet of
the Swedes will be sought for; Radzivill asking aid against Lithuania
will be despised. What is to be done?"
The foreign officers will stay with him, but their power is not enough;
and if the Polish squadrons go over to the voevoda of Vityebsk, he will
have the fate of the country in his hands. Each foreign officer will
carry out commands, it is true; but he will not devote his whole soul
to the cause of Radzivill, he will not give himself to it with ardor,
not merely as a soldier, but as an adherent. For devotion there is
absolute need, not of foreigners, but of men of his own people to
attract others by their names, by their bravery, by their reputation,
by their daring example and readiness to do everything. He must have
adherents in the country, even for show.
Who of his own men responded to the prince? Kharlamp, an old, worn-out
soldier, good for service and nothing more; Nyevyarovski, not loved in
the army and without influence; besides these a few others of still
less distinction; no man of another kind, no man whom an army would
follow, no man to be the apostle of a cause.
There remained Kmita, young, enterprising, bold, covered with great
knightly glory, bearing a famous name, standing at the head of a
powerful squadron, partly fitted out at his own expense,--a man as it
were created to be the leader of all the bold and restless spirits in
Lithuania, and withal full of ardor. If he should take up the cause of
Radzivill, he would take it up with the faith which youth gives, he
would follow his hetman blindly, and spread the faith in his name; and
such an apostle means more than whole regiments, whole divisions of
foreigners. He would be able to pour his faith into the heart of the
young knighthood, to attract it and fill the camp of Radzivill with
men.
But he too had hesitated evidently. He did not cast his baton, it is
true, at the feet of the hetman, but he did not stand at his side in
the first moment.
"It is impossible to reckon on any one, impossible to be sure of any
man," thought the prince, gloomily. "They will all go to the voevoda of
Vityebsk, and no man will wish to share with me."
"Infamy!" whispered his conscience.
"Lithuania!" answered, on the other hand, pride.
It had grown dim in the room, for the wicks had burned long on the
candles, but through the windows flowed in the silver light of the
moon. Radzivill gazed at those rays and fell into deep thought.
Gradually something began to grow dark in those rays; certain figures
rose up each moment, increasing in number, till at last the prince saw
as it were an army coming toward him from the upper trails of the sky
on the broad road of the moonbeams. Regiments are marching, armored
hussars and light horse; a forest of banners are waving; in front rides
some man without a helmet, apparently a victor returning from war.
Around is quiet, and the prince hears clearly the voice of the army and
people, "Vivat defensor patriae! vivat defensor patriae! (Live the
defender of the country!)" The army approaches, each moment increasing
in number; now he can see the face of the leader. He holds the baton in
his hand; and by the number of bunchuks (horse-tails on his standard).
Radzivill can see that he is the grand hetman.
"In the name of the Father and the Son!" cries the prince, "that is
Sapyeha, that is the voevoda of Vityebsk! And where am I, and what is
predestined to me?"
"Infamy!" whispers his conscience.
"Lithuania!" answers his pride.
The prince clapped his hands; Harasimovich, watching in the adjoining
room, appeared at once in the door and bent double.
"Lights!" said the prince.
Harasimovich snuffed the candles, then went out and returned with a
candlestick in his hand.
"Your Highness," said he, "it is time to repose; the cocks have crowed
a second time."
"I have no wish to sleep," replied the prince. "I dozed, and the
nightmare was suffocating me. What is there new?"
"Some noblemen brought a letter from Nyesvyej from the Prince Michael,
but I did not venture to enter unsummoned."
"Give me the letter at once!"
Harasimovich gave the sealed letter; the prince opened it, and began to
read as follows:--
May God guard and restrain your highness from such plans as might bring
eternal infamy and destruction to our house! Set your mind on a
hair-shirt rather than on dominion. The greatness of our house lies at
my heart also, and the best proof of this is in the efforts which I
made in Vienna that we should have a vote in the diets of the Empire.
But I will not betray the country nor my king for any reward or earthly
power, so as not to gather after such a sowing a harvest of infamy
during life and damnation after death. Consider, your highness, the
services of your ancestors and their unspotted fame; think of the mercy
of God while the time is fitting. The enemy have surrounded me in
Nyesvyej, and I know not whether this letter will reach your hands; but
though destruction threatens me every moment, I do not ask God to
rescue me, but to restrain your highness from those plans and bring you
to the path of virtue. Even if something evil is done already, it is
possible yet to draw back, and it is necessary to blot out the offences
with a swift hand. But do not expect aid from me, for I say in advance
that without regard to bonds of blood, I will join my forces with those
of Pan Gosyevski and the voevoda of Vityebsk; and a hundred times
rather would I turn my arms against your highness than put my hands
voluntarily to that infamous treason. I commend your highness to God.
Michael Kazimir,
_Prince in Nyesvyej and Olyta, Chamberlain of the
Grand Principality of Lithuania_.
When the hetman had finished the letter he dropped it on his knee, and
began to shake his head with a painful smile on his face.
"And he leaves me, my own blood rejects me, because I wished to adorn
our house with a glory hitherto unknown! Ah! it is difficult! Boguslav
remains, and he will not leave me. With us is the Elector and Karl
Gustav; and who will not sow will not reap."
"Infamy!" whispered his conscience.
"Is your highness pleased to give an answer?" asked Harasimovich.
"There will be no answer."
"May I go and send the attendants?"
"Wait! Are the guards stationed carefully?"
"They are."
"Are orders sent to the squadrons?"
"They are."
"What is Kmita doing?"
"He was knocking his head against the wall and crying about disgrace.
He was wriggling like a mudfish. He wanted to run after the
Billeviches, but the guards would not let him. He drew his sabre; they
had to tie him. He is lying quietly now."
"Has the sword-bearer of Rossyeni gone?"
"There was no order to stop him."
"I forgot!" said the prince. "Open the windows, for it is stifling and
asthma is choking me. Tell Kharlamp to go to Upita for the squadron and
bring it here at once. Give him money, let him pay the men for the
first quarter and let them get merry. Tell him that he will receive
Dydkyemie for life instead of Volodyovski. The asthma is choking me.
Wait!"
"According to order."
"What is Kmita doing?"
"As I said, your highness, he is lying quietly."
"True, you told me. Give the order to send him here. I want to speak
with him. Have his fetters taken off."
"Your highness, he is a madman."
"Have no fear, go!"
Harasimovich went out. The prince took from a Venetian cabinet a case
with pistols, opened it, and placed it near at hand on the table by
which he sat.
In a quarter of an hour Kmita entered, attended by four Scottish
soldiers. The prince ordered the men to withdraw, and remained face to
face with Kmita.
There did not seem to be one drop of blood in the visage of the young
man, so pale was it, but his eyes were gleaming feverishly; for the
rest he was calm, resigned, though apparently sunk in endless despair.
Both were silent for a while. The prince spoke first.
"You took oath on the crucifix not to desert me."
"I shall be damned if I keep that oath, damned if I break it. It is all
one to me!"
"Even if I had brought you to evil, you would not be responsible."
"A month ago judgments and punishments threatened me for killing;
to-day it seems to me that then I was as innocent as a child."
"Before you leave this room, you will feel absolved from all your
previous sins," said the prince.
Suddenly, changing his tone, he inquired with a certain confidential
kindness, "What do you think it was my duty to do in the face of two
enemies, a hundred-fold stronger than I, enemies against whom I could
not defend this country?"
"To die!" answered Kmita, rudely.
"You soldiers, who can throw off so easily the pressing burden are to
be envied. To die! For him who has looked death in the eyes and is not
afraid, there is nothing in the world simpler. Your head does not ache
over this, and it will occur to the mind of none that if I had roused
an envenomed war and had died without making a treaty, not a stone
would be left on a stone in this country. May God not permit this, for
even in heaven my soul could not rest. _O, terque, quaterque beati_ (O
thrice and four times blessed) are ye who can die! Do you think that
life does not oppress me, that I am not hungry for everlasting sleep
and rest? But I must drain the chalice of gall and vinegar to the
bottom. It is needful to save this unhappy land, and for its salvation
to bend under a new burden. Let the envious condemn me for pride, let
them say that I betrayed the country to exalt myself. God has seen me,
God is the judge whether I desire this elevation, and whether I would
not resign it could matters be otherwise. Find you who desert me means
of salvation; point out the road, ye who call me a traitor, and this
night I will tear that document and rouse all the squadrons from
slumber to move on the enemy."
Kmita was silent.
"Well, why are you silent?" exclaimed Radzivill, in a loud voice. "I
will make you grand hetman in my place and voevoda of Vilna. You must
not die, for that is no achievement, but save the country. Defend the
occupied provinces, avenge the ashes of Vilna, defend Jmud against
Swedish invasion, nay, defend the whole Commonwealth, drive beyond the
boundaries every enemy! Rush three on a thousand; die not,--for that is
not permitted,--but save the country."
"I am not hetman and voevoda of Vilna," answered Kmita, "and what does
not belong to me is not on my head. But if it is a question of rushing
the third against thousands I will go."
"Listen, then, soldier! Since your head has not to save the country,
leave it to mine."
"I cannot!" said Kmita, with set teeth.
Radzivill shook his head. "I did not count on the others, I looked for
what happened; but in you I was deceived. Interrupt not, but listen. I
placed you on your feet, I freed you from judgment and punishment, I
gathered you to my heart as my own son. Know you why? Because I thought
that in you was a daring soul, ready for grand undertakings. I needed
such men, I hide it not. Around me was no man who would dare to look at
the sun with unflinching eye. There were men of small soul and petty
courage. To such never show a path other than that on which they and
their fathers have travelled, for they will halt saying that you have
sent them on a devious way. And still, where, if not to the precipice,
have we all come by these old roads? What is happening to the
Commonwealth which formerly could threaten the world?"
Here the prince seized his head in his hands and repeated thrice: "O
God! God! God!"
After a while he continued: "The time of God's anger has come,--a time
of such misfortunes and of such a fall that with the usual methods we
cannot rise from this sickness; and if I wish to use new ones, which
alone can bring us salvation, even those desert me on whose readiness I
counted, whose duty it was to have confidence, who took oath on the
cross to trust me. By the blood and wounds of Christ! Did you think
that I submitted to the protection of Karl Gustav forever, that in
truth I think to join this country to Sweden, that the treaty, for
which I am called a traitor, will last beyond a year? Why do you look
with astonished eyes? You will be still more astonished when you hear
all. You will be more astonished, for something will happen which no
one will think of, no one admit, which the mind of a common man has not
power to grasp. But I say to you, Tremble not, for in this is the
country's salvation; do not draw back, for if I find no one to help me,
possibly I may perish, but with me will perish the Commonwealth and ye
all for the ages. I alone can save, but I must bend and trample all
obstacles. Woe to him who opposes me; for God himself will crush him
through me, whether he be the voevoda of Vityebsk or Pan Gosyevski or
the army, or a refractory nobility. I wish to save the Commonwealth;
and to me all ways, all methods are good for that end. Rome in times of
disaster named dictators,--such power, nay, greater and more lasting,
is needful to me. Not pride draws me to it,--whoso feels equal to this
power let him take it instead of me. But if no one does I will take the
power, though these walls should fall first on my head!"
Then the prince stretched both his hands upward, as if in fact he
wished to support the arches falling upon his head, and there was in
him something so gigantic that Kmita opened his eyes and gazed as if he
had never seen him before; and at last he asked with changed voice:
"Whither art thou striving, your highness? What do you wish?"
"A crown!" cried Radzivill.
"Jesus, Mary!"
A moment of deep silence followed; but an owl on the tower of the
castle began to hoot shrilly.
"Listen," said the prince, "it is time to tell you all. The
Commonwealth is perishing, and must perish. There is no salvation on
earth for it. The question is to save first from the ruin this country
(Lithuania), this our immediate fatherland, and then--then make the
whole Commonwealth rise from its own ashes, as the ph[oe]nix rises. I
will do this; and the crown, which I desire, I will place as a burden
on my head, so as to bring out from this great tomb a new life. Do not
tremble! The ground will not open, everything stands on its own place;
but new times are coming. I give this country to the Swedes so as to
stop with Swedish arms another enemy, to drive him beyond the
boundaries, to win back what is lost, and force with the sword a treaty
from that enemy in his own capital. Do you hear me? But in rocky,
hungry Sweden there are not men enough, not forces enough, not sabres
enough to take possession of this immense Commonwealth. They may defeat
our army once and a second time; but to hold us in obedience they
cannot. If one Swede were given as a guard to every ten men in this
land, there would still be many tens of them without guards. Karl
Gustav knows this well, and neither does he wish nor is he able to take
the whole Commonwealth. He will occupy Royal Prussia, most of Great
Poland, and will be content with that. But to hold in coming time these
acquisitions securely, he must break the union of the kingdom with us;
otherwise he could not remain in those provinces. What will happen then
to this country? To whom will it be given? Well, if I refuse the crown
which God and fortune places on my head, it will be given to him who at
this moment is in possession. But Karl Gustav is not willing to consent
to this act, which would increase a neighboring power too greatly, and
create for himself a formidable enemy. But if I refuse the crown, he
will be forced to consent. Have I the right, then, to refuse? Can I
allow that to take place which would threaten us with final ruin? For
the tenth and the hundredth time I ask, Where are there other means of
salvation? Let the will of God, then, be done! I take this burden on my
shoulders. The Swedes are on my aide; the elector, our relative,
promises aid. I will free the country from war! With victories and
extension of boundaries will begin the rule of my house. Peace and
prosperity will flourish; fire will not burn towns and villages. Thus
it will be, thus it must be. So help me God and the holy cross! I feel
within me power and strength from heaven, I desire the happiness of
this land, and that is not yet the end of my plans. And by those
heavenly lights I swear, by those trembling stars, that if only
strength and health remain to me, I will build anew all this edifice,
now tumbling to ruins; I will make it stronger than ever."
Fire was flashing from the pupils and eyes of the prince; his whole
form shed an uncommon halo.
"Your highness," cried Kmita, "I cannot grasp that thought; my head is
bursting, my eyes fear to look ahead."
"Besides," said Radzivill, as if pursuing the further course of his own
thoughts, "the Swedes will not deprive Yan Kazimir of the kingdom nor
of rule, but will leave him in Mazovia and Little Poland. God has not
given him posterity. An election will come in time. Whom will they
choose to the throne if they wish a further union with Lithuania? When
did the kingdom grow strong and crush the Knights of the Cross? After
Vladyslav Yagyello had mounted the throne. It will be the same this
time. The Poles can call to the throne only him who will be reigning
here. They cannot and will not call another, for they would perish,
because the breath would not remain in their breasts between the
Germans and the Turks, and as it is, the Cossack cancer is gnawing the
kingdom. They can call no one else! Blind is he who does not see this;
foolish who does not understand it. Both countries will unite again and
become one power in my house. Then I shall see if those kinglets of
Scandinavia will remain in their Prussia and Great Poland acquired
to-day. Then I will say to them, _Quos ego!_ and with this foot will
crush their lean ribs, and create a power such as the world has not
seen, such as history has not described; perhaps I may carry the cross
with fire and sword to Constantinople, and in peace at home terrify the
enemy. Thou great God, who orderest the circuits of the stars, grant me
to save this ill-fated land, for thy glory and that of all Christendom;
give me men to understand my thought, men to put their hands to
salvation. There is where I stand!" Here the prince opened his arms,
and raised his eyes aloft: "Thou seest me, thou judgest me!"
"Mighty prince, mighty prince!" cried Kmita.
"Go, desert me, cast the baton at my feet, break your oath, call me
traitor! Let no thorn be lacking in that prickly crown which they have
put on my head. Destroy ye the country, thrust it over the precipice,
drag away the hand that could save it, and go to the judgment of God!
Let him decide between us."
Kmita cast himself on his knees before Radzivill. "Mighty prince, I am
with you to the death! Father of the country, savior!"
Radzivill put both hands on his head, and again followed a moment of
silence. Only the owl hooted unceasingly on the tower.
"You will receive all that you have yearned for and wished," said the
prince, with solemnity. "Nothing will miss you, and more will meet you
than your father and mother desired. Rise, future grand hetman and
voevoda of Vilna!"
It had begun to dawn in the sky.