The thunder of the guns of Kudák was heard also by the forces
descending in boats under the command of old Barabash and Krechovski.
These forces were composed of six thousand registered Cossacks, and one
of picked German infantry led by Colonel Hans Flick.
Pan Nikolai Pototski, the hetman, hesitated long before he sent the
Cossacks against Hmelnitski; but since Krechovski had an immense
influence over them, and Pototski trusted Krechovski absolutely, he
merely commanded the Cossacks to take the oath of allegiance, and sent
them off in the name of God.
Krechovski was a soldier full of experience and of great reputation in
previous wars. He was a client of the Pototskis, to whom he was
indebted for everything,--his rank of colonel, his nobility, which they
obtained for him in the Diet, and finally for broad lands situated near
the confluence of the Dniester and Lada, which he held for life. He was
connected, therefore, by so many bonds with the Commonwealth and the
Pototskis, that a shadow of a suspicion could not rise in the mind of
the hetman. Krechovski was, besides, a man in his best days, for he was
scarcely fifty years old, and a great future was opening before him in
the service of the country. Some were ready to see in him the successor
of Stephen Hmeletski, who, beginning his career as a simple knight of
the steppe, ended it as voevoda of Kieff and senator of the
Commonwealth. It was for Krechovski to advance by the same road, along
which he was impelled by bravery, a wild energy, and unbridled
ambition, equally eager for wealth and distinction. Through this
ambition he had struggled a short time before for the starostaship of
Lita; and when at last Pan Korbut received it, Krechovski buried the
disappointment deep in his heart, but almost fell ill of envy and
mortification. This time fortune seemed to smile on him again; for
having received from the hetman such an important military office, he
could consider that his name would reach the ears of the king; and that
was important, for afterward he had only to bow to receive the reward,
with the words dear to the heart of a noble: "He has bowed to us and
asked that we grant him; and we remembering his services, do grant,
etc." In this way were wealth and distinction acquired in Russia; in
this way enormous expanses of the empty steppe, which hitherto had
belonged to God and the Commonwealth, passed into private hands; in
this way a needy stripling grew to be a lord, and might strengthen
himself with the hope that his descendants would hold their seats among
senators.
Krechovski was annoyed that in the office committed to him he must
divide authority with Barabash; still it was only a nominal division.
In reality, the old colonel of Cherkasi, especially in the latter time,
had grown so old and worn that his body alone belonged to this earth;
his mind and soul were continually sunk in torpidity and lifelessness,
which generally precede real death. At the beginning of the expedition
he roused up and began to move about with considerable energy, as if at
the sound of the trumpet the old soldier's blood had begun to course
more vigorously within him, for he had been in his time a famous
Cossack and a leader in the steppe; but as soon as they started the
plash of the oars lulled him, the songs of the Cossacks and the soft
movement of the boats put him to sleep, and he forgot the world of God.
Krechovski ordered and managed everything. Barabash woke up only to
eat; having eaten his fill, he inquired, as was his custom, about this
and that. He was put off with some kind of answer; then he sighed and
said,--
"I should be glad to die in some other war, but God's will be done!"
Connection with the army of the crown marching under Stephen Pototski
was severed at once. Krechovski complained that the hussars and the
dragoons marched too slowly, that they loitered too long at the
crossings, that the young son of the hetman had no military experience;
but with all that he gave orders to move on.
The boats moved along the shores of the Dnieper to Kudák, going farther
and farther from the armies of the crown.
At last one night the thunder of cannon was heard. Barabash slept
without waking. Flick, who was sailing ahead, entered the scout-boat
and repaired to Krechovski.
"Colonel," said he, "those are the cannon of Kudák! What are we to do?"
"Stop your boats. We will spend the night in the reeds."
"Apparently Hmelnitski is besieging the fortress. In my opinion we
ought to hurry to the relief."
"I do not ask you for opinions, but give orders. I am the commander."
"But, Colonel--"
"Halt and wait!" said Krechovski. But seeing that the energetic German
was twitching his beard and not thinking of going away without a
reason, he added more mildly: "The castellan may come up to-morrow
morning with the cavalry, and the fortress will not be taken in one
night."
"But if he does not come up?"
"Well, we will wait even two days. You don't know Kudák. They will
break their teeth on the walls, and I will not go to relieve the place
without the castellan, for I have not the right to do so. That is his
affair."
Every reason seemed to be on Krechovski's side. Flick therefore
insisted no longer, and withdrew to his Germans. After a while the
boats began to approach the right bank and push into the reeds, that
for a width of more than forty rods covered the river, which had spread
widely in that part. Finally the plash of oars stopped; the boats were
hidden entirely in the reeds, and the river appeared to be wholly
deserted. Krechovski forbade the lighting of fires, singing of songs,
and conversation. Hence there fell upon the place a quiet unbroken save
by the distant cannon of Kudák.
Still no one in the boats except Barabash slept. Flick, a knightly man
and eager for battle, wished to hurry straight to Kudák. The Cossacks
asked one another in a whisper what might happen to the fortress. Would
it hold out or would it not hold out? Meanwhile the noise increased
every moment. All were convinced that the castle was meeting a violent
assault.
"Hmelnitski isn't joking; but Grodzitski isn't joking, either,"
whispered the Cossacks. "What will come tomorrow?"
Krechovski was probably asking himself the very same question, as,
sitting in the prow of his boat, he fell into deep thought. He knew
Hmelnitski intimately and of old. Up to that time he had always
considered him a man of uncommon gifts, to whom only a field was
wanting to soar like an eagle; but now Krechovski doubted him. The
cannon thundered unceasingly; therefore it must be that Hmelnitski was
really investing Kudák.
"If that is true," thought Krechovski, "he is lost. How is it possible,
having roused the Zaporojians and secured the assistance of the Khan,
having assembled forces such as none of the Cossack leaders has
hitherto commanded, instead of marching with all haste to the Ukraine,
rousing the people and attaching to himself the town Cossacks, breaking
the hetmans as quickly as possible, and gaining the whole country
before new troops could come to its defence, that he, Hmelnitski, an
old soldier, is storming an impregnable fortress, capable of detaining
him for a whole year? And is he willing that his best forces should
break themselves on the walls of Kudák, as a wave of the Dnieper is
dashed on the rocks of the Cataracts? And will he wait under Kudák till
the hetmans are reinforced and surround him, like Nalivaika at
Solonitsa?"
"If he does, he is a lost man," repeated Krechovski once more. "His own
Cossacks will give him up. The unsuccessful assault will cause
discontent and disorder. The spark of rebellion will go out at its very
birth, and Hmelnitski will be no more terrible than a sword broken at
the hilt. He is a fool! Therefore," thought Krechovski, "to-morrow I
will land my Cossacks and Germans on the bank, and the following night
will fall on him unexpectedly, when he is weakened by assaults. I will
cut the Zaporojians to pieces, and throw down Hmelnitski bound at the
feet of the hetman. It is his own fault, for it might have been
otherwise."
The unbridled ambition of Krechovski soared on the wings of a falcon.
He knew well that young Pototski could not arrive on the following
night by any possibility. Who, then, was to sever the head of the
hydra? Krechovski! Who was to put down the rebellion which might wrap
the whole Ukraine in a terrible conflagration? Krechovski! The old
hetman might be angry for a while that this had taken place without the
participation of his son; but he would soon get over that, and
meanwhile all the rays of glory and the favors of the king would
descend on the conqueror's head. No! It would be necessary, however, to
divide the glory with old Barabash and with Grodzitski.
Krechovski scowled darkly; but suddenly his face grew bright. "They
will bury that old block Barabash in the ground to-morrow or next day.
Grodzitski, if he can only remain at Kudák to frighten the Tartars from
time to time with his cannon, will ask for no more. Krechovski alone
will remain. If he can only become hetman of the Ukraine!"
The stars twinkled in the sky, and it appeared to the colonel that
those were the jewels in his baton; the wind sounded in the reeds, and
it seemed to him the rustling of the hetman's standard. The guns of
Kudák thundered unceasingly.
"Hmelnitski has given his throat to the sword," continued the colonel
in thought, "but that is his own fault. It might have been otherwise.
If he had gone straight to the Ukraine, it might have been otherwise.
There all is seething and roaring; there lies powder, only waiting for
a spark. The Commonwealth is powerless, but it has forces in the
Ukraine; the king is not young, and is sickly. One battle won by the
Zaporojians will bring incalculable results."
Krechovski covered his face with his hands, and sat motionless. The
stars came down nearer and nearer, and settled gradually on the steppe.
The quail hidden in the grass began to call. Soon the day would break.
At last the meditations of the colonel became strengthened into a fixed
purpose. Next day he would strike Hmelnitski and grind him in the dust.
Over his body he would go to wealth and dignities. He would be the
instrument of punishment in the hands of the Commonwealth, its
defender, in the future its dignitary and senator. After victory over
the Zaporojians and the Tartars they would refuse him nothing.
Still, they had not given him the starostaship of Lita. When he
remembered this, Krechovski clenched his fists. They had not given him
this, in spite of the powerful influence of his protectors the
Pototskis, in spite of his military services, simply because he was a
new man and his rival drew his origin from princes. In that
Commonwealth it was not enough to be a noble, it was necessary to wait
till that nobility was covered with must like old wine, till it was
rusty like iron.
Hmelnitski alone could introduce a new order of things, to which the
king himself would become favorable; but the unfortunate man had
preferred to beat out his brains against the walls of Kudák.
The colonel gradually grew calm. They had refused him the
starostaship,--what of that? They would strive all the more to
recompense him, especially after his victory,--after quenching the
rebellion, after freeing the Ukraine from civil war, yes, the whole
Commonwealth! They would refuse him nothing; then he would not need
even the Pototskis.
His drowsy head inclined upon his breast, and he fell asleep, dreaming
of starostaships, of dignities, of grants from the king and the Diet.
When he woke it was daybreak. In the boats all were still sleeping. In
the distance the waters of the Dnieper were gleaming in a pale,
fugitive light. Around them reigned absolute stillness. It was the
stillness that roused him. The cannon of Kudák had ceased to roar.
"What is that?" thought Krechovski. "The first attack is repulsed, or
maybe Kudák is taken?"
But that was unlikely. No; the beaten Cossacks were lying somewhere at
a distance from the fortress, licking their wounds, and the one-eyed
Grodzitski was looking at them through the port-hole, aiming his guns
anew. To-morrow they would repeat the storm, and again break their
teeth. The day had now come. Krechovski roused the men in his own boat,
and sent a boat for Flick. Flick came at once.
"Colonel," said Krechovski, "if the castellan does not come before
evening, and if the storm is repeated during the night, we will move to
the relief of the fortress."
"My men are ready," answered Flick.
"Issue powder and balls to them."
"I have done so."
"We land during the night and go by the steppe in the greatest quiet.
We will come upon them with a surprise."
"Gut! sehr gut! But mightn't we go on a little in the boats? It is
twenty miles to the fortress,--rather far for infantry."
"The infantry will mount Cossack horses."
"Gut! sehr gut!"
"Let the men lie quietly in the reeds, not go on shore; make no noise,
kindle no fires, for smoke would betray us. We must not be revealed."
"There is such a fog that the smoke will not be seen."
Indeed the river, the inlet overgrown with reeds, in which the boats
were hidden, and the steppe were covered as far as the eye could see
with a white, impenetrable fog. But it was only the beginning of day;
so the fog might rise and uncover the expanse of the steppe.
Flick departed. The men in the boats woke gradually. Krechovski's
commands to keep quiet and take the morning meal without tumult were
made known. No person going along the shore or sailing in the middle of
the river would have even imagined that in the adjoining thicket
several thousand men were hidden. The horses were fed from the hand, so
that they should not neigh. The boats, covered with fog, lay tied up in
the reeds. Here and there only passed a small two-oared boat carrying
biscuits and commands; with this exception, the silence of the grave
reigned everywhere.
Suddenly in the reeds, rushes, and shore-grass all around the inlet
were heard strange and very numerous voices, calling,--
"Pugú! pugú!"
Then quiet.
"Pugú! pugú!"
And again silence, as if those voices, calling on the banks, waited for
an answer.
But there was no answer. The calling sounded a third time, but more
quickly and impatiently.
"Pugú! pugú!"
This time from the side of the boats was heard in the middle of the fog
the voice of Krechovski,--
"But who is there?"
"A Cossack from the meadows."
The hearts of the Cossacks hidden in the boats beat unquietly. That
mysterious call was well known to them. In that manner the Zaporojiana
made themselves known to one another in their winter quarters; in that
way in time of war they asked to conference their brothers, the
registered and town Cossacks, among whom were many belonging in secret
to the Brotherhood.
The voice of Krechovski was heard again; "What do you want?"
"Bogdan Hmelnitski, the Zaporojian hetman, announces that his cannon
are turned on the Poles."
"Inform the Zaporojian hetman that ours are turned to the shore."
"Pugú! Pugú!"
"What more do you want?"
"Bogdan Hmelnitski, the Zaporojian hetman, invites his friend Colonel
Krechovski to a conference."
"Let him give hostages."
"Ten kuren atamans."
"Agreed."
That moment the shores of the inlet bloomed with Zaporojians as if with
flowers; they stood up from the grass in which they had been hidden.
From the steppe approached their cavalry and artillery, tens and
hundreds of their banners, flags, and bunchuks. They marched with
singing and beating of kettledrums. All this was rather like a joyful
greeting than a collision of hostile forces.
The Cossacks on the river answered with shouts. Meanwhile boats came up
bringing the kuren atamans. Krechovski entered one of the boats and
went to the shore. There a horse was given him, and he was conducted
immediately to Hmelnitski.
Seeing him, Hmelnitski removed his cap, and then greeted him cordially.
"Colonel," said he, "my old friend and comrade! When the hetman of the
crown commanded you to seize me and bring me to the camp, you did not
do it, but you warned me so that I might save myself by flight; for
that act I am bound to you in thankfulness and brotherly love."
While saying this he stretched out his hand kindly; but the swarthy
face of Krechovski remained cold as ice. "Now, therefore, after you
have saved yourself, worthy hetman, you excite rebellion!"
"I go to ask reparation for the wrongs inflicted on myself, on you, on
the whole Ukraine, with the charter of Cossack rights granted by the
king in my hand, and with the hope that our merciful sovereign will not
count it evil in me."
Krechovski looked quickly into the eyes of Hmelnitski, and asked with
emphasis: "Have you invested Kudák?"
"I? Do you think I have lost my mind? I passed Kudák without a shot,
though the old blind man celebrated it with guns. I was hurrying not to
Kudák, but to the Ukraine, and to you, my old friend and benefactor."
"What do you wish, then, of me?"
"Come a little way in the steppe, and we will talk."
They spurred their horses, and rode on. They remained about an hour. On
returning, the face of Krechovski was pale and terrible. He took quick
farewell of Hmelnitski, who said,--
"There will be two of us in the Ukraine, and above us the king, and no
man else."
Krechovski turned to the boats. Old Barabash, Flick, and the elders
waited for him with impatience. "What's going on? What's going on?" he
was asked on every side.
"Come out on the shore!" answered Krechovski, with a commanding voice.
Barabash raised his sleepy lids; a certain wonderful fire was gleaming
in his eyes. "How is that?" asked he.
"Come to the shore; we yield!"
A wave of blood rushed to the pale and faded face of Barabash. He rose
from the kettle on which he had been sitting, straightened himself up,
and suddenly that bent and decrepit old man was changed into a giant
full of life and power.
"Treason!" roared he.
"Treason!" repeated Flick, grasping after the hilt of his rapier.
But before he could draw it Krechovski's sabre whistled, and with one
blow Flick was stretched on the ground. Then Krechovski sprang into the
scout-boat standing there, in which four Zaporojians were sitting with
oars in their hands, and cried: "To the boats!"
The scout-boat shot on like an arrow. Krechovski, standing in the
centre of it, with his cap on his bloody sabre, his eyes like flames,
cried with a mighty voice,--
"Children, we will not murder our own. Long life to Hmelnitski, the
Zaporojian hetman!"
"Long life!" repeated hundreds and thousands of voices.
"Destruction to the Poles!"
"Destruction!"
The roar from the boats answered the shouts of the Zaporojians on land.
But many men in the boats did not know what was going on till the news
spread everywhere that Krechovski had gone over to the Zaporojians. A
regular furor of joy seized the Cossacks. Six thousand caps flew into
the air; six thousand muskets roared. The boats trembled under the feet
of the brave fellows. A tumult and uproar set in. But that joy had to
be sprinkled with blood; for old Barabash preferred to die rather than
betray the flag under which he had served a lifetime. A few tens of the
men of Cherkasi declared for him, and a struggle began, short but
terrible,--like all struggles in which a handful of men, asking not
quarter but death, defend themselves in a mass. Neither Krechovski nor
any one of the Cossacks expected such resistance. The lion of other
days was roused in the old colonel. The summons to lay down his arms he
answered with shots; and he was seen, with baton in hand and streaming
white hair, giving orders with a voice of thunder and the energy of
youth. His boat was surrounded on every side. The men of those boats
which could not press up jumped into the water, and by swimming or
wading among the reeds, and then seizing the edge of the boat, climbed
it with fury. The resistance was short. The faithful Cossacks of
Barabash, stabbed, cut to pieces, torn asunder with hands, lay dead in
the boat. The old man with sabre in hand defended himself yet.
Krechovski pushed forward toward him. "Yield!" shouted he.
"Traitor! destruction!" answered Barabash, raising his sabre to strike.
Krechovski drew back quickly into the crowd. "Strike!" cried he to the
Cossacks.
It seemed that no one wished to raise his hand first on the old man.
But unfortunately the colonel slipped in blood and fell. When lying he
did not rouse that respect or that fear, and immediately a number of
lances were buried in his body. The old man was able only to cry:
"Jesus, Mary!"
They began to cut the prostrate body to pieces. The severed head was
hurled from boat to boat, like a ball, until by an awkward throw it
fell into the water.
There still remained the Germans, with whom the settlement was more
difficult, for the regiment was composed of one thousand old soldiers
trained in many wars. The valiant Flick had fallen, it is true, by the
hand of Krechovski, but there remained at the head of the regiment
Johann Werner, lieutenant-colonel, a veteran of the Thirty Years' War.
Krechovski was certain of victory, for the German boats were hemmed in
on every side by the Cossacks; still he wished to preserve for
Hmelnitski such a respectable reinforcement of incomparable infantry,
splendidly armed, therefore he preferred to begin a parley with them.
It seemed for a time that Werner would agree, for he conversed calmly
with Krechovski and listened attentively to promises of which the
faithless colonel was not sparing. The pay in which the Commonwealth
was in arrears was to be paid on the spot, and an additional year in
advance. At the expiration of the year the soldiers might go where they
pleased, even to the camp of the king.
Werner, appeared to meditate over these conditions, but meanwhile he
had quietly issued a command for the boats to press up to him, so that
they formed a close circle. On the edge of that circle stood a wall of
infantry,--well-grown and powerful men, dressed in yellow coats and
caps of the same color, in perfect battle-array, with the left foot
forward and muskets at the right side ready to fire. Werner stood in
the first rank with drawn sword, and meditated long; at last he raised
his head.
"Colonel, we agree!"
"You will lose nothing in your new service," cried Krechovski, with
joy.
"But on condition--"
"I agree to that, besides."
"If that is true, then all is settled. Our service with the
Commonwealth ends in three months. At the end of three months we will
go over to you."
A curse was leaving Krechovski's mouth, but he restrained the outburst.
"Are you joking, worthy lieutenant?"
"No!" answered Werner, phlegmatically; "our soldierly honor commands us
to keep our agreement. Our service ends in three months. We serve for
money, but we are not traitors. If we were, nobody would hire us, and
you yourselves would not trust us; for who could guarantee that we
should not go over again to the hetmans in the first battle?"
"What do you want, then?"
"We want you to let us go."
"Why, you crazy man, that is impossible! I shall order you to be cut to
pieces."
"And how many of your own will you lose?"
"A foot of you will not leave here!"
"And half of your men will not remain."
Both spoke the truth; therefore Krechovski, although the coolness of
the German roused all his blood, and rage began to overpower him, did
not wish to begin the battle for a while.
"Till the sun leaves the inlet," said he, "think the matter over; after
that I will give the order to touch the triggers!"
And he went off hurriedly in his boat to counsel with Hmelnitski.
The silence of expectation began. The Cossack boats surrounded in a
dense circle the Germans, who maintained the cool bearing possible only
to old and experienced soldiers in the presence of danger. To the
threats and insults which burst out on them every moment from the
Cossack boats, they answered with contemptuous silence. It was in truth
an imposing spectacle,--that calm in the midst of increasing outbursts
of rage on the part of the Cossacks, who, shaking their lances and
muskets threateningly, gnashed their teeth and, cursing, waited
impatiently the signal for battle.
Meanwhile the sun, turning from the south to the west, removed
gradually its golden rays from the inlet, which was slowly covered with
shade. At length it was completely covered. Then the trumpet began to
sound, and immediately after the voice of Krechovski was heard in the
distance,--
"The sun has gone down! Have you decided yet?"
"We have!" answered Werner. And turning to the soldiers, he waved his
naked sword. "Fire!" commanded he, with a quiet phlegmatic voice.
There was a roar! The plash of bodies falling into the water, the cries
of rage, and rapid firing answered the voice of German muskets. Cannon
drawn up on shore answered with a deep roar, and began to hurl balls on
the German boats. Smoke covered the inlet completely, and only the
regular salvos of the muskets amidst the shouts, roaring, whistle of
Tartar arrows, and the rattle of guns and muskets, announced that the
Germans were still defending themselves.
At sunset the battle was still raging, but appeared to be weaker.
Hmelnitski, with his companions Krechovski, Tugai Bey, and some
atamans, came to the shore to observe the struggle. The dilated
nostrils of the hetman inhaled the smoke of powder, and his ears took
in with pleasure the sound of the drowning and dying Germans. All three
of the leaders looked on the slaughter as on a spectacle, which at the
same time was a favorable omen for them.
The struggle was coming to an end. As the musketry ceased, the shouts
of Cossack triumph rose louder and louder to the sky.
"Tugai Bey," said Hmelnitski, "this is our first victory."
"There are no captives!" blurted out the murza. "I want no such
victories as this!"
"You will get captives in the Ukraine. You will fill all Stamboul and
Galata with your prisoners!"
"I will take even you, if there is no one else!" Having said this, the
wild Tugai Bey laughed ominously; then he added: "Still I should be
glad to have those 'Franks.'"
The battle had ended. Tugai Bey turned his horse to the camp.
"Now for Jóltiya Vodi!" cried Hmelnitski.