Bogun, though a brave, clear-sighted leader, had no luck in this
expedition against the supposed division of Prince Yeremi. He was
merely confirmed in the belief that the prince had really moved his
whole force against Krívonos; for this was the information given by the
captives from among Zagloba's men, who believed most sacredly that the
prince was marching after them. Nothing remained then for the
unfortunate ataman but to withdraw with all speed to Krívonos; but the
task was not easy. Scarcely on the third day was a party of two hundred
and a few tens of Cossacks collected around him; the others had either
fallen in the fight, were lying wounded on the field of struggle, or
were wandering yet among the ravines and reeds, not knowing what to do,
how to turn, or where to go. Besides, the party left to Bogun was not
good for much; for it was beaten, inclined to flee at every alarm,
demoralized, frightened. And it was made up too of chosen men; better
soldiers it would be difficult to find in the whole Saitch. But the
heroes didn't know with what a small force Pan Volodyovski had struck
them, and that, thanks only to the unexpected attack on sleeping and
unprepared men, could he inflict such a defeat. They believed most
sacredly that they had been fighting, if not with the prince himself,
at least with a strong detachment several times more numerous than it
was. Bogun raged like fire; cut in the hand, run over, sick, beaten, he
had let his inveterate enemy out of his hands, and belittled his own
fame. For now those Cossacks who on the eve of the defeat would have
followed him blindly to the Crimea, to hell, and against the prince
himself, had lost faith and courage, and were thinking only how to
carry their lives out of the defeat. Still Bogun had done everything
that a leader was bound to do; he had neglected nothing, he had
established pickets at a distance from the house, and rested only
because the horses which had come from Kamenyets almost at one course
were altogether unfit for the road. But Volodyovski, whose youth had
been passed in surprising and hunting Tartars, approached the pickets
like a fox in the night, seized them before they could shout or fire,
and fell upon them in such fashion that Bogun could escape only in his
shirt and trousers. When the chief thought of this the light grew dark
in his eyes, his head swam, and despair gnawed his soul like a mad dog.
He who on the Black Sea had rushed upon Turkish galleys, and galloped
on the necks of Tartars to Perekop, and lighted up the eyes of the Khan
with the blaze of his villages, and under the hand of the prince near
Lubni itself had cut a garrison to pieces at Vassílyevka, had to flee
in his shirt, bareheaded and without a sabre,--for he had lost that too
in his meeting with the little knight. So at the stopping-places where
the horses were fed, when no man was looking, the chief seized himself
by the head and cried: "Where is my Cossack glory, where my sabre
friend?" When he cried in this way a wild raving carried him away, and
then he drank as if he were not a creature of God, and wanted to march
against the prince, attack all his forces,--perish and disappear for
the ages.
He wished it, but the Cossacks did not. "Though you kill us, father, we
will not go!" was their gloomy answer to his outbursts; and vainly in
accesses of fury he cut at them with his sabre and singed their faces
with his pistol,--they would not, they did not go.
You would have said that the ground was slipping away from the ataman's
feet, for this was not the end of his misfortune. Fearing on account of
probable pursuit to go straight to the south, and thinking that perhaps
Krívonos had already given up the siege, he rushed straight to the
east, and came upon the party of Pan Podbipienta. Pan Longin, wakeful
as a stork, did not permit an attack, but falling first on Bogun,
defeated him the more easily because his Cossacks were unwilling to
fight; when he had defeated him he turned him over to Skshetuski, who
beat him worst of all; so that Bogun, after long wanderings in the
steppes with a few horses only, without glory, without Cossacks,
without booty, without informants, made his way back at last to
Krívonos.
But the wild Krívonos, usually so terrible to subordinates whom fortune
did not favor, was not angry this time. He knew from his own experience
what an affair with Yeremi meant; therefore he even petted Bogun,
comforted him, quieted him, pacified him, and when he fell into a
violent fever, gave orders to nurse and cure him with all care.
The four officers of the prince, having filled the country with terror
and dismay, returned safely to Yarmolintsi, where they remained several
days to give rest to the men and horses. There, when they came into the
same quarters, they gave to Skshetuski, each in turn, an account of
what had happened to them and what they had accomplished; then they sat
down by the bottle to relieve their hearts in friendly converse and
satisfy their mutual curiosity.
But Zagloba gave little chance to any man to speak. He had no desire to
listen, but wished only that others should listen to him,--in truth it
came out that he had the most to tell.
"Gentlemen," said he, "I fell into captivity, it is true; but fortune
turns around. Bogun has been all his life victorious, but we beat him
this time. That is how it is usually in war. To-day you tan people,
to-morrow they tan you. But God punished Bogun because he fell upon us,
sleeping sweetly the sleep of the just, and roused us in such a
dishonorable way. Ho, ho! he thought to terrify me with his filthy
tongue; but I tell you here, gentlemen, that I cornered him so that he
lost his boldness, became confused, and said what he didn't want to
say. What's the use of talking long? If I hadn't got into captivity,
Pan Michael and I would not have defeated him. I say both of us,
because in this affair magna pars fui, and I shall not cease to insist
on it to my death. So God give me health! Hear my reasons further: If I
and Volodyovski had not beaten him, then Podbipienta would not have
beaten him, and further Skshetuski would not have beaten him; and
finally if we hadn't beaten him he would have beaten us, and who was
the cause that this didn't take place?"
"Ah! it is with you as with a fox," said Pan Longin; "you wave your
tail here, slink away there, and always get out."
"It's a foolish hound that runs after his own tail, for he will not
catch it and will not smell anything honorable, and besides will lose
his wind. How many men have you lost?"
"Twelve in all, and some wounded; they didn't strike us very hard."
"And you, Pan Michael?"
"About thirty, for I fell upon them unawares."
"And you, Lieutenant?"
"As many as Pan Longin."
"And I lost two. See yourselves who is the best leader! That's the
question. Why did we come here? On the service of the prince, to get
news of Krívonos. Well, I tell you, gentlemen, that I first got news of
him, and from the best source, because I got it from Bogun; and I know
that he is at Kamenyets, but he thinks of raising the siege, for he is
afraid. I know this openly; but I know something else which will put
joy into your heart, and of which I have not spoken because I wanted
that we should counsel about it together. I was sick till now, for
weariness overpowered me, and my bowels rose up against that villanous
binding on a stick. I thought my blood would boil over."
"Tell us, for God's sake!" cried Volodyovski, "have you heard anything
of our unfortunate lady?"
"Yes, God bless her," said Zagloba.
Skshetuski rose to his full height and then sat down. There followed
such a silence that the buzzing of the mosquitoes was heard on the
windows till Zagloba began again,--
"She lives, I know that certainly; she is in Bogun's hands. Gentlemen,
it is a terrible thing; however, God has not permitted harm or disgrace
to meet her. Bogun himself told me this,--he who would rather boast of
something else."
"How can that be? how can that be?" asked Skshetuski, feverishly.
"If I lie, may a thunderbolt strike me!" said Zagloba, with importance,
"for this is a sacred thing. Listen to what Bogun said when he wished
to jeer at me before I settled him at last. 'Did you think,' said he,
'that you brought her to Bar for a peasant; that I was a peasant to
constrain her by force; that I was not to be married in Kieff in the
church, and monks sing for me, and three hundred candles burn for
me,--me, an ataman, a hetman!' And he stamped his feet and threatened
me with his knife, for he thought he was frightening me; but I told him
to frighten the dogs!"
Skshetuski had now recovered himself. His monk's face lighted up;
gladness and uncertainty played on it again. "Where is she now, where
is she?" he asked hurriedly. "If you have found that out, then you have
come from heaven."
"He did not tell me that, but two words are enough for a wise head.
Remember, gentlemen, he jeered me all the while till I planted him, and
then he went in. 'First I'll take you,' said he, 'to Krívonos, and then
I would invite you to the wedding; but now there is war, so it will not
come off soon.' Think of it, gentlemen,--'not come off soon;' therefore
we have plenty of time. Secondly, think,--'first to Krívonos, then to
the wedding;' therefore in no way is she at the camp of Krívonos, but
somewhere farther, where the war has not reached."
"You are a man of gold," said Volodyovski.
"I thought at first," said the delightfully flattered Zagloba, "that
maybe he had sent her to Kieff; but no, for he said he would go for the
wedding to Kieff with her. If they will go, it means that she is not
there; and he is too shrewd to take her there now, for if Hmelnitski
should push into Red Russia, Kieff could be taken easily by the
Lithuanian forces."
"Surely, surely!" cried Pan Longin. "Now, as God is just to me, no man
could change minds with you."
"But I shouldn't change with every one, lest I might get soup instead
of reason,--a thing which might easily happen among the Lithuanians."
"Oh, he is beginning again!" said Pan Longin.
"Well, since she is not with Krívonos nor in Kieff, where is she?"
"There's the difficulty."
"If you have worked it out, then tell me quickly, for fire is burning
me," said Skshetuski.
"Beyond Yampol," said Zagloba, and rolled his one sound eye
triumphantly.
"How do you know?" inquired Volodyovski.
"How do I know? Here is how: I was sitting in the stable,--for that
brigand had me shut up in the stable, may the wild boars rip him!--and
the Cossacks were talking among themselves all around. I put my ear to
the wall then, and what did I hear? 'Now maybe the ataman will go
beyond Yampol,' said one; and then the other answered, 'Be silent, if
your young head is dear to you!' I'll give my neck that she is beyond
Yampol."
"Oh, as sure as God is in heaven!" cried Volodyovski.
"He did not take her to the Wilderness; therefore, according to my
head, he must have hidden her somewhere between Yampol and Yagorlik. I
was once in that region when the judges of the king and the Khan met;
for in Yagorlik, as you know, cattle questions of the boundary are
tried, of which cases there is never a lack. Along the whole Dniester
there are ravines, hidden places, and reeds in which living by
themselves are people who know no authority, dwell in the wilderness,
and see no neighbors. He has hidden her surely among such wild
solitaries, for he would be surest of her there."
"But how can we go there now, when Krívonos bars the way?" asked Pan
Longin. "Yampol too, I hear, is a nest of robbers."
To this Skshetuski replied: "Though I had to risk my life ten times, I
should try to save her. I will go disguised and look for her. God will
help me, I shall find her."
"I will go with you, Yan," said Volodyovski.
"And I as a minstrel with my lute. Believe me, gentlemen, that I have
more experience than any of you; but since the lute has disgusted me to
the last degree, I'll take bagpipes."
"I too shall be good for something," said Podbipienta.
"Of course," added Zagloba. "Whenever we need to cross the Dnieper you
will carry us over, like Saint Christopher."
"I thank you from my soul, gentlemen," said Pan Yan; "and I accept your
readiness with a willing heart. There is nothing to be compared with
trusty friends, of whom as I see Providence has not deprived me. May
the great God grant me to repay you with my health and property!"
"We are all as one man!" shouted Zagloba. "God is pleased with concord,
and you will find that we shall soon see the fruit of our labors."
"Then nothing else remains to me," said Skshetuski, after a moment's
silence, "but to deliver up the squadron to the prince, and start at
once. We will go by the Dniester, along through Yampol to Yagorlik, and
look everywhere. But if, as I hope, Hmelnitski is already crushed or
will be before we reach the prince, then public service will not be in
the way. Certain regiments will go to the Ukraine, to finish the
remnant of the rebellion, but they will get on without us."
"Wait!" said Volodyovski; "doubtless after Hmelnitski, Krívonos's turn
will come; maybe we shall go together with the regiments to Yampol."
"No, we must go there before," answered Zagloba. "But first of all give
up the squadron, so as to have free hand. I hope, too, that the prince
will be satisfied with us."
"Especially with you."
"That's true, for I shall bring him the best news. Believe me, I expect
a reward."
"When shall we take the road?"
"We must rest till morning," said Volodyovski. "Let Skshetuski command,
however, for he is chief here; but I forewarn you, if we start to-day
my horses will all give out."
"I know that it is impossible to start to-day," said Skshetuski; "but I
think after good oats we can go to-morrow."
They started on the following day. According to the orders of the
prince, they were to return to Zbaraj and wait further orders. They
went consequently through Kuzmin, aside from Felstin, to Volochisk,
from which the old highway led through Hlebanovka to Zbaraj. The roads
were bad; for rain was falling, though quietly. Pan Longin, going ahead
with one hundred horses, broke up a few disorderly bands that had
gathered around the rear of the forces of the commander-in-chief. At
Volochisk they stopped for the night.
But they had barely begun a pleasant sleep after the long road, when
they were roused by an alarm, and the guards informed them that cavalry
detachments were approaching. Immediately came the news that it was
Vershul's Tartar squadron, therefore their own men. Zagloba, Pan
Longin, and Volodyovski met at once in Skshetuski's room; and right
after them rushed in, like a storm, an officer of the light cavalry,
breathless and covered with mud. When he had looked at him, Skshetuski
cried out: "Vershul!"
"Yes, it is I," said the newly arrived, unable to catch his breath.
"From the prince?"
"Yes. Oh for breath, breath!"
"What news? All over with Hmelnitski?"
"All--over with--the Commonwealth!"
"By the wounds of Christ, what do you say? Defeat!"
"Defeat, disgrace, shame!--without a battle--a panic--oh! oh!"
Skshetuski could not believe his ears. "But speak! speak, in the name
of the living God! The commanders--"
"Ran away."
"Where is our prince?"
"Retreating--without an army--I am here from the prince--the order to
Lvoff--at once--they are pursuing us--"
"Who? Vershul, Vershul, come to your senses, man! Who is pursuing?"
"Hmelnitski and the Tartars."
"In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!" cried Zagloba. "The
earth is opening."
But Skshetuski understood already what the matter was. "Questions later
on; now to horse!"
"To horse! to horse!"
The hoofs of the horses under Vershul's Tartars were clattering by the
windows. The townspeople, roused by the arrival of troops, burst from
their houses with lanterns and torches in their hands. The news flew
through the town like lightning. The alarm was sounded. The town,
silent a moment before, was filled with yells, tramping of horses,
shouting of orders, and wailing of Jews. The inhabitants wishing to
leave with the troops got ready wagons, in which they put their wives
and children, with featherbeds. The mayor, at the head of a number of
citizens, came to beg Skshetuski not to depart at once, but to convoy
the inhabitants even to Tarnopol. Skshetuski would not listen; for the
order received was explicit, to go to Lvoff as fast as his breath would
let him. They hurried away therefore; and on the road Vershul,
recovering breath, told what had happened, and how.
"Since the Commonwealth has been a commonwealth," said he, "never has
it borne such a defeat. Tsetsora, Jóltiya Vodi, Korsún, are nothing in
comparison."
Skshetuski, Volodyovski, and Pan Longin bent down to the necks of their
horses, now grasping their own heads, now raising their hands to
heaven. "The thing passes human belief," said they. "But where was the
prince?"
"Deserted by all, thrust aside on purpose; he did not command, in fact,
his own division."
"Who had command?"
"No man, and all men. I have been long in service, I have eaten my
teeth in war, and yet up to this day I have not seen such armies and
such leaders."
Zagloba, who had no great love for Vershul and knew him but little,
began to shake his head and smack his lips; at last he said,--
"My dear sir, either your vision is confused, or you have taken some
partial defeat for a general one; for what you relate passes
imagination completely."
"That it passes imagination, I confess; and I'll say more to you,--that
I should gladly give my head to be severed if by some miracle it should
appear that I am mistaken."
"But how did you get to Volochisk first after the defeat? For I don't
wish to admit that you were the first to run away. Where, then, are the
forces in flight? In what direction are they fleeing? What has happened
to them? Why didn't the fugitives get ahead of you? To all these
questions I seek an answer in vain."
Vershul at any other time would not have permitted such questions, but
at that moment he could think of nothing but the defeat; therefore he
merely answered,--
"I came first to Volochisk, for the others are retreating to Ojigovtsi,
and the prince hurried me off on purpose toward the place in which he
thought you were, so the avalanche might not catch you through hearing
the news too late; and secondly, because the five hundred horse which
you have are no small comfort to him, for the greater part of his
division is killed or in flight."
"Wonderful things!" said Zagloba.
"It's a terror to think of! Desperation seizes one, the heart is cut,
tears flow," said Volodyovski, wringing his hands. "The country
destroyed; disgrace after death,--such forces dispersed, lost. It
cannot be that there is anything but the end of the world and the
approach of the last judgment."
"Don't interrupt him," said Skshetuski; "let him tell all."
Vershul was silent for a time, as if collecting his strength; nothing
was heard but the plashing of hoofs in the mud, for rain was falling.
It was still the depth of night, and very dark, because cloudy; and in
that darkness and rain the words of Vershul, who began thus to speak,
had a wonderful sound of ill-omen,--
"If I had not expected to fall in battle, I should have lost my reason.
You speak of the last judgment,--and I think it will come soon, for
everything is going to pieces; wickedness rises above virtue, and
antichrist is walking through the world. You have not seen what took
place; but if you are not able to bear even the story of it, how is it
with me, who saw with my own eyes the defeat and measureless disgrace?
God gave us a happy beginning in this war. Our prince, after getting
satisfaction at Cholganski Kamen from Pan Lashch, gave the rest to
oblivion, and made peace with Prince Dominik. We were all pleased with
this concord,--really a blessing of God. The prince gained a second
victory at Konstantinoff, and took the place; for the enemy left it
after the first storm. Then we marched to Pilavtsi, though the prince
did not advise going there. But immediately on the road various
machinations were manifest against him,--ill-will, envy, and evident
intrigue. He was not listened to in councils, no attention was paid to
his words, and above all, efforts were made to separate our division,
so that the prince should not have it all in hand. If he should oppose,
the blame of defeat would be thrown on him. He was silent, therefore,
suffered and endured. By order of the commander-in-chief the light
cavalry, together with Vurtsel and the cannon. Colonel Makhnitski,
Osinski, and Koritski, were detached, so that there remained with the
prince only the hussars and Zatsvilikhovski, two regiments of dragoons,
and I, with a part of my squadron,--altogether not more than two
thousand men. And they paid no attention to the prince; he was
despised; and I heard how the clients of Prince Dominik said: 'They
won't say now, after the victory, that it came through Vishnyevetski.'
And they said openly that if such immeasurable glory covered Yeremi,
his candidate, Prince Karl, could carry the election, and they want
Kazimir. The whole army was infected with factions, so that harangues
were held in circles, as if they were sending delegates to the Diets;
they were thinking of everything but battle, just as if the enemy had
been beaten already. But if I were to tell you of the feasting and the
applauding, you would not believe me. The legions of Pyrrhus were
nothing in comparison with those armies, all in gold, jewels, and
ostrich feathers, with two hundred thousand camp followers. Legions of
wagons followed us, horses dropped dead under the weight of gold-tipped
and silken tents; wagons were breaking under provision chests. You
would have thought we were going to the conquest of the world. Nobles
of the general militia shook their sticks, saying, 'This is how we will
pacify the trash, and not kill them with swords.' We old soldiers,
accustomed to fighting without talking, had a foreboding of evil at the
sight of this unheard of pride. Then began tumults against Kisel,--that
he was a traitor; and tumults for him,--that he was a worthy senator.
They cut one another with sabres when they were drunk; there were no
commanders of camps, no one looked after order; there was no general.
Each one did what he liked, went where it pleased him best, stopped,
took his place where it suited him; and the camp followers raised such
an uproar! Oh, merciful God! that was a carnival, not a campaign,--a
carnival at which the salvation of the Commonwealth was danced away,
drunk away, ridden away, and chaffered away, to the last bit."
"But we are still alive," said Volodyovski.
"And God is in heaven," added Skshetuski.
A moment of silence followed; then Vershul said,--
"We shall perish totally, unless God performs a miracle and ceases to
chastise us for our sins and shows us unmerited mercy. At times I do
not believe myself what I saw with my own eyes, and it seems to me that
a nightmare was choking me in my sleep."
"Tell further," said Zagloba; "you came to Pilavtsi, and then what?"
"We stopped. What the commanders counselled I know not. At the last
judgment they will answer for that; if they had struck Hmelnitski at
once he would have been shattered and swept away, as God is in heaven,
in spite of disorder, insubordination, tumult, and want of a leader. On
their side was panic among the rabble; they were already taking counsel
how to give up Hmelnitski and the elders, and he himself was meditating
flight. Our prince rode from tent to tent, begged, implored,
threatened. 'Let us strike,' said he, 'before the Tartar comes!' He
tore the hair from his head. Men looked at one another, but did nothing
and nothing. They drank, they had meetings. Reports came that the
Tartars were marching,--the Khan with two hundred thousand horsemen.
The commanders counselled and counselled. The prince shut himself up in
his tent, for they had set him aside altogether. In the army they began
to say that the chancellor had forbidden Prince Dominik to give battle;
that negotiations were going on. Still greater disorder appeared. At
last the Tartars came, but God gave us luck the first day. The prince
and Pan Osinski fought, and Pan Lashch did very well. They drove the
Tartar horde from the field, cut them up considerably; but afterward--"
Here Vershul's voice died in his breast.
"But afterward?" asked Zagloba.
"--came the terrible, inexplicable night which I remember. I was on
guard with my men by the river, when on a sudden I heard firing of
cannon in the Cossack camp as if in applause, and I heard shouts. Then
it occurred to me that yesterday it was said in the camp that the whole
Tartar force had not arrived yet,--only Tugai Bey with a part. I
thought then: 'If they are making such uproarious applause, the Khan
must have come in his own person.' Then in our camp rose a tumult. I
hurried thither with a few men. 'What's the matter?' They shout to me:
'The commanders have gone!' I hasten to Prince Dominik's quarters,--he
is not to be found; to Ostrorog,--he is gone; to Konyetspolski,--he is
not there! Jesus of Nazareth! Soldiers are flying over the square;
there are shouts, tumult, yells, blazing torches. 'Where are the
commanders? where are the commanders?' cry some. 'To horse! to horse!'
cry others. Still others: 'Save yourselves, brothers! Treason!
treason!' Hands are raised to heaven, faces are pale, eyes wild. They
rush, trample, suffocate one another, mount their horses, flee
weaponless at random. Others leave helmets, breastplates, arms, tents.
The prince rides up at the head of the hussars in his silver armor,
with six torches around him. He stands in the stirrups and cries: 'I am
here, gentlemen! Rally around me!' What can he do? They don't hear him,
don't see him; they rush on his hussars, break their ranks, overturn
horses and men. We were barely able to save the prince himself. Then
over the trampled-out fires, in darkness, like a dammed-up torrent,
like a river, the whole army in wild panic rush from the camp, flee,
scatter, disappear. No more an army, no more leaders, no more a
Commonwealth,--nothing but unwashed disgrace and the foot of the
Cossack on your neck!"
Here Vershul began to groan and to pull at his horse, for the madness
of despair had caught him. This madness he communicated to the others,
and they rode on in that rain and night as if bewildered. They rode a
long time. Zagloba broke silence first,--
"Without battle. Oh, the rascals! Oh, such sons of-- You remember what
lordly figures they cut at Zbaraj,--how they promised to eat Hmelnitski
without pepper and salt. Oh, the scoundrels!"
"How could they?" shouted Vershul. "They ran away after the first
battle gained over the Tartars and the mob,--after a battle in which
the general militia fought like lions."
"The finger of God is in this," said Skshetuski; "but there is some
secret too, which must be explained."
"If the army had fled, why that sort of thing happens in the world,"
said Volodyovski; "but here the leaders left the camp first, as if on
purpose to lighten the victory for the enemy and give the army to
slaughter."
"True, true!" said Vershul. "It is said even that they did this on
purpose."
"On purpose? By the wounds of Christ, that cannot be!"
"It is said they did so on purpose; but why? Who can discover, who can
guess?"
"May their graves crush them, may their race perish, and only a memory
of infamy remain behind them!" said Zagloba.
"Amen!" said Skshetuski.
"Amen!" said Volodyovski.
"Amen!" repeated Pan Longin.
"There is one man who can save the fatherland yet, if they give him the
baton and the remaining power of the Commonwealth. There is only one,
for neither the army nor the nobles will hear of another."
"The prince!" said Skshetuski.
"Yes."
"We will rally to him; we will perish with him. Long live Yeremi
Vishnyevetski!" cried Zagloba.
"Long life!" repeated a few uncertain voices. But the cry died away
immediately; for when the earth was opening under their feet and the
heavens seemed falling on their heads, there was no time for shouts.
Day began to break, and in the distance appeared the walls of Tarnopol.