Skshetuski slept a number of days, and when he woke he had a violent
fever, and suffered long. He talked of Zbaraj, of the prince, of the
starosta of Krasnovstav; he talked with Pan Michael, with Zagloba; he
cried, "Not this way!" to Pan Longin; of the princess alone he spoke
not a word. It was clear that the great power with which he had
confined in himself the memory of her did not desert him a moment even
in weakness and pain. At that moment, he seemed to see hanging over him
the chubby face of Jendzian, precisely as he saw it when the prince
after the battle of Konstantinoff sent him with troops to Zaslav to cut
down lawless bands, and Jendzian appeared to him unexpectedly at his
night quarters. This face brought confusion to his mind; for it seemed
to him that time halted in its flight, and that nothing had changed
from that period. So he is again at Khomor, is sleeping in the cottage,
is marching to Tarnopol to give over his troops; Krívonos, beaten at
Konstantinoff, has fled to Hmelnitski; Jendzian has come from Gushchi,
and sits with him. Skshetuski wanted to talk,--wanted to order the lad
to have the horse saddled,--but could not. And again it comes into his
head that he is not at Khomor; that since that time too was the taking
of Bar. Here Skshetuski halted in his pain, and his unfortunate head
sank in darkness. He knows nothing now, sees nothing; but at times out
of that chaos comes the heroism of Zbaraj, the siege. He is not at
Khomor then? But still Jendzian is sitting over him, bending toward
him. Through an opening in the shutters a narrow bright ray comes into
the room, and lights completely the face of the youth, full of care and
sympathy.
"Jendzian!" cried Skshetuski, suddenly.
"Oh, my master! do you know me already?" cried the youth, and fell at
the feet of his master. "I thought you would never wake again!"
A moment of silence followed; only the sobbing of the youth could be
heard as he continued to press the feet of his master.
"Where am I?" asked Skshetuski.
"In Toporoff. You came from Zbaraj to the king. Praise be to God!"
"And where is the king?"
"He went with the army to rescue the prince.'"
Silence followed. Tears of joy continued to flow along the face of
Jendzian, who after a while began to repeat with a voice of emotion:
"That I should look on your body again!" Then he opened the shutters
and the window.
Fresh morning air came into the room, and with it the bright light of
day. With this light came all Skshetuski's presence of mind. Jendzian
sat at the foot of the bed.
"Then I came out of Zbaraj?"
"Yes, my master. No one could do that but you, and on your account the
king went to the rescue."
"Pan Podbipienta tried before me, but he perished--"
"Oh, for God's sake! Pan Podbipienta,--such a liberal man, so virtuous!
My breath leaves me. How could they kill such a strong man?"
"They shot him with arrows."
"And Pan Volodyovski and Zagloba?"
"They were well when I came out."
"Praise be to God! They are great friends of yours, my master--But the
priest won't let me talk."
Jendzian was silent, and for a time was working at something with his
head. Thoughtfulness was expressed on his ruddy face. After a while he
said: "My master?"
"Well, what is it?"
"What will be done with the fortune of Pan Podbipienta? Very likely he
has villages and every kind of property beyond measure--unless he has
left it to his friends; for, as I hear, he has no relatives."
Skshetuski made no answer. Jendzian knew then that he did not like the
question, and began as follows:--
"But God be praised that Pan Zagloba and Pan Volodyovski are well. I
thought that the Tartars had caught them. We went through a world of
trouble together--But the priest won't let me talk. Oh, my master, I
thought that I should never see them again; for the horde so pressed
upon us that there was no help."
"Then you were with Pan Volodyovski and Zagloba? They did not tell me
anything about that."
"For they didn't know whether I was dead or alive."
"And where did the horde press on you so?"
"Beyond Ploskiri, on the road to Zbaraj. For, my master, we travelled
far beyond Yampol--But the priest Tsetsishovski won't let me talk."
A moment of silence.
"May God reward you for all your good wishes and labors," said
Skshetuski; "for I know why you went there. I was there before you to
no purpose."
"Oh, my master, if only that priest-- But this is how it is. 'I must go
with the king to Zbaraj, and do you,' says he, 'take care of your
master; don't you tell him anything, for the soul will go out of him.'"
Pan Yan had parted long since from every hope to such a degree that
even these words of Jendzian did not rouse in him the least spark. He
lay for a time motionless, and then inquired: "Where did you come from
to Tsetsishovski and the army?"
"The wife of the castellan, Pani Vitovska, sent me from Zamost to
inform her husband that she would join him at Toporoff. She is a brave
lady, my master, and wishes to be with the army, so as not to be away
from her husband. I came to Toporoff the day before you. She will be
here soon,--ought to be here now. But what if he has gone away with the
king?"
"I don't understand how you could be in Zamost when you went with
Volodyovski and Zagloba beyond Yampol. Why didn't you come to Zbaraj
with them?"
"You see, my master, the horde pressed us sorely. There was no help. So
they two alone resisted a whole chambul, and I fled and never drew
bridle till I reached Zamost."
"It was happy they were not killed; but I thought you were a better
fellow. Was it manly of you to leave them in such straits?"
"But, my master, if there had been only three of us, I should not have
left them, you may be sure; but there were four of us; therefore they
threw themselves against the horde, and ordered me to save--if I were
sure that joy wouldn't kill you--for beyond Yampol we found--but since
the priest--"
Skshetuski began to look at the youth, and to open and shut his eyes
like a man waking from sleep. Suddenly it seemed as though something
had broken within him, for he grew pale, sat up in the bed, and cried
with a thundering voice: "Who was with you?"
"My master, my master!" called the youth, struck with the change that
had come on the face of the knight.
"Who was with you?" cried Skshetuski; and seizing Jendzian by the
shoulder, he shook him, began himself to tremble as in a fever, and
press the youth in his iron hands.
"I'll tell anyhow," shouted Jendzian, "let the priest do what he likes.
The princess was with us, and she is now with Pani Vitovska."
Pan Yan grew rigid; he closed his eyes, and his head fell heavily on
the pillow.
"Help!" cried Jendzian. "Surely, my master, you have breathed your
last. Help! What have I done? Better I had been silent. Oh, for God's
sake! my master, dearest master, but speak! For God's sake! the priest
was right. My master, my master!"
"Oh, this is nothing!" said Skshetuski at length. "Where is she?"
"Praise be to God that you have revived! Better for me to say nothing.
She is with Pani Vitovska; you will soon see them here. Praise be to
God, my master! only don't die; you will see them soon. The priest gave
her to Pani Vitovska for safe keeping, because there are libertines in
the army. Bogun respected her, but misfortune is easily found. I had a
world of trouble; but I told the soldiers, 'She is a relative of Prince
Yeremi,' and they respected her. I had to give away no small money on
the road."
Skshetuski lay motionless again; but his eyes were open, turned to the
ceiling, and his face very serious. It was evident he was praying. When
he had finished, he sprang up, sat on the bed, and said: "Give me my
clothes, and have the horse saddled."
"If you knew, my master, what a plenty of everything there is; for the
king before going gave much, and others gave. And there are three
splendid horses in the stable--if I only had one like them--but you
would better lie and rest a little, for you have no strength yet."
"There is nothing the matter with me. I can sit on a horse. In the name
of the living God, make haste!"
"I know that your body is of iron; let it be as you say! But defend me
from the priest! Here are your clothes; better cannot be had from the
Armenian merchants. You can choose, and I'll tell them to bring wine,
for I told the priest's servant to heat some."
Jendzian occupied himself with the food, and Skshetuski began to put on
hastily the clothes presented by the king and others. But from time to
time he seized the youth by the shoulders and pressed him to his bosom.
Jendzian told him everything from the beginning,--how Bogun, stricken
down by Volodyovski, but already partly recovered, had met him in
Vlodava, and how he had learned of the princess from him, and received
the baton; how he had gone subsequently with Volodyovski and Zagloba to
Valadinka, and having killed the witch and Cheremís, had taken away the
princess; and finally, what peril they were in while fleeing before the
forces of Burlai.
"Pan Zagloba killed Burlai," interrupted Skshetuski, feverishly.
"He is a valiant man," answered Jendzian. "I have never seen his equal;
for one is brave, another eloquent, a third cunning, but all these are
sitting together in Zagloba. But the worst of all that happened was in
those woods behind Ploskiri, when the horde pursued us. Pan Volodyovski
with Zagloba remained behind to attract them and stop the pursuit, I
rushed off sidewise toward Konstantinoff, leaving Zbaraj; for I thought
this way,--that after they had killed the little man and Zagloba they
would pursue us to Zbaraj. Indeed, I don't know how the Lord in his
mercy rescued the little man and Pan Zagloba. I thought they were cut
to pieces. Meanwhile I with the princess slipped through between
Hmelnitski, who was marching from Konstantinoff, and Zbaraj, to which
the Tartars were marching."
"They did not go there, for Pan Kushel stopped them. But hurry!"
"Yes, if I had known that! But I did not know it; therefore I pressed
through with the princess between the Tartars and the Cossacks, as
through a defile. Happily the country was empty; nowhere did we meet a
living man, neither in the villages nor in the towns, for all had fled,
each where he could, before the Tartars. But my soul was sitting on my
shoulders from terror, lest that should catch me which I did not escape
in the end."
Skshetuski stopped dressing and asked: "What was that?"
"This, my master. I came upon the division of the Cossack Donyéts,
brother of that Horpyna with whom the princess was lodged in the
ravine. Fortunately I knew him well, for he saw me with Bogun. I
brought him a greeting from his sister, showed him Bogun's baton, and
told him all, how Bogun had sent me for the lady, and how he was
waiting for me beyond Vlodava. But being Bogun's friend, he knew that
his sister had been guarding the lady. As a matter of course, I thought
he would let me go and give me provisions and money for the road; but,
said he: 'Ahead there the general militia is assembling; you'll fall
into the hands of the Poles. Stay with me. We'll go to Hmelnitski, to
his camp; there the girl will be safest of all, for there Hmelnitski
himself will take care of her for Bogun.' When he told me this I
thought I should die, for what could I say to it? I said then: 'Bogun
is waiting for me, and my life depends on bringing her at once.' But he
said: 'We'll tell Bogun; but don't you go, for the Poles are on that
side.' Then I began to dispute, and he disputed, till at last he said:
'It is a wonder to me that you are afraid to go among the Cossacks. Ho!
ho! are you not a traitor?' Then I saw there was no other help but to
slip away by night, for he had already begun to suspect me. Seven
sweats came out on me, my master. I had prepared everything for the
road, when Pan Pelka, from the armies of the king, fell upon us that
night."
"Pan Pelka?" asked Pan Yan, holding his breath.
"Yes, my master. A splendid partisan,--Pan Pelka, who was killed the
other day. May the Lord light his soul! I don't know whether there is
any one who could lead a detachment better and creep up to the enemy
better than he, unless Volodyovski alone. Pan Pelka came then, and cut
up the detachment of Donyéts so that not a foot got away. They took
Donyéts himself prisoner. They drew him on a stake with oxen a couple
of weeks ago,--served him right! But with Pan Pelka I had trouble
not a little, for he was a man desperately intent on the virtue of
women,--God light his soul! I was afraid that the princess, who had
escaped harm from the Cossacks, would be worse treated by her own. But
I told Pan Pelka that the lady was a relative of our prince. And I must
tell you that he, whenever he mentioned our prince, removed his hat,
and was always preparing to enter his service. He respected the
princess therefore, and conducted us to Zamost to the king; and there
the priest Tsetsishovski--he is a very holy priest, my master--took us
in care, and gave the lady to Pani Vitovska, wife of the castellan of
Sandomir."
Skshetuski drew a deep breath, then threw himself on the neck of
Jendzian. "You shall be a friend to me, a brother, not a servant. When
was Pani Vitovska to come here?"
"The week after I left, but it is now ten days. You lay eight days
without consciousness."
"Let us go, let us go!" exclaimed Skshetuski, "for joy is tearing me to
pieces."
But before he had finished speaking the tramp of horses was heard
outside, and the window was suddenly darkened by horses and men.
Skshetuski saw through the glass, first the old priest Tsetsishovski,
and then the emaciated faces of Zagloba, Volodyovski, Kushel, and other
acquaintances among the red dragoons of the prince. A shout of joy was
given forth, and in a moment a crowd of knights with the priest at the
head of them burst into the room.
"Peace concluded at Zborovo, the siege raised!" cried the priest.
But Skshetuski inferred this immediately by the look of his companions
of Zbaraj; and at once he was in the embraces of Zagloba and
Volodyovski, who disputed for him with each other.
"They told us that you were alive," cried Zagloba, "but the joy is the
greater that we see you so soon in health. We have come here for you,
purposely. Yan, you don't know with what glory you have covered
yourself, and what reward awaits you."
"The king has rewarded you," said the priest, "but the King of Kings
has provided something better."
"I know already," said Skshetuski. "May God reward you! Jendzian has
told all."
"And joy did not kill you? So much the better! Vivat Skshetuski! vivat
the princess!" shouted Zagloba. "Well, Yan, we didn't whisper a word to
you about her, for we didn't know that she was alive. But Jendzian is a
cunning rogue; he escaped with her, _vulpes astuta!_ The prince is
waiting for you both. Oh, we went for her to Yagorlik. I killed the
hellish monster that was guarding her. Those twelve boys got out of
your sight, but now you'll see them, and more. I'll have grandchildren,
gentlemen! Jendzian, tell us if you met great obstacles. Imagine to
yourself that I with Pan Michael checked the whole horde. I rushed
first on the Tartar regiment. They were trembling before us; nothing
could help them. Pan Michael stood up well too. Where is my daughter?
Let me see my daughter."
"God give you happiness, Yan!" said the little knight, taking
Skshetuski again by the shoulders.
"God reward you for all you have done for me! Words fail me. My life
and blood would not suffice to repay," answered Skshetuski.
"Enough of this!" cried Zagloba. "Peace is concluded,--a fool's peace,
gentlemen, but the position was difficult. It is well that we have left
that pestilent Zbaraj. There will be peace now, gentlemen. It is by our
labors, especially mine; for if Burlai had been living the negotiations
would have come to nothing. We'll go to the wedding. After that, Yan,
keep your eyes open. But you cannot guess what a wedding present the
prince has for you! I'll tell you some other time; but where the
hangman is my daughter? Let me have my daughter. Bogun won't get her
this time; first he'll have to break the rope that binds him. Where is
my dearest daughter?"
"I was just getting into the saddle to meet Pani Vitovska," said
Skshetuski. "Let us go, for I am losing my senses."
"Come on, gentlemen! Let us go with him, not to lose time. Come on!"
"The lady of Sandomir cannot be far distant," said the priest.
"To horse!" added Pan Michael.
But Skshetuski was already outside the door, and sprang on his horse as
lightly as if he had not just risen from a bed of sickness. Jendzian
kept close to his side, for he preferred not to be alone with the
priest. Volodyovski and Zagloba joined them, and they rode as fast as
their horses could gallop in advance of all. The whole party of nobles
and red dragoons flew along by the Toporoff road like poppy leaves
borne by the wind.
"Come on!" cried Zagloba, beating his horse with his heels.
And so they flew on about ten furlongs, till at the turn of the highway
they saw before them a line of wagons and carriages surrounded by a
number of attendants. Seeing armed men in front of them, some of these
hurried with all speed to inquire who they were.
"Ours, from the king's army!" cried Zagloba. "And who is coming there?"
"The lady of Sandomir," was the answer. Such emotion seized Skshetuski
that not knowing what he did, he slipped from the horse and stood
tottering at the roadside. He removed his cap, his temples were covered
with drops of perspiration, and he trembled in every limb in presence
of his happiness. Pan Michael sprang also from the saddle, and caught
his enfeebled friend by the shoulder.
Behind them all the others formed with uncovered heads at the side of
the highway. Meanwhile the line of wagons and carriages had come up and
begun to pass by. In company with Pani Vitovska were travelling a
number of other ladies, who looked with astonishment, not understanding
what this military procession at the roadside could mean.
At last, in the centre of the retinue, appeared a carriage richer than
the rest. The eyes of the knights beheld through its open windows the
dignified countenance of the gray-haired lady, and at her side the
sweet and beautiful face of the princess.
"Daughter!" roared Zagloba, rushing straight to the carriage,
"daughter! Skshetuski is with us, my daughter!"
They began to cry, "Stop! stop!" along the line. Hurry and confusion
followed; then Kushel and Volodyovski conducted or rather drew
Skshetuski to the carriage; he had weakened altogether, and became
heavier every moment in their hands. His head hung upon his breast; he
could walk no farther, and fell on his knees at the steps of the
carriage.
But a moment later the strong and beautiful arms of the princess held
his weakened and emaciated head.
Zagloba, seeing the astonishment of the lady of Sandomir, cried: "This
is Skshetuski, the hero of Zbaraj. He worked through the enemy; he
saved the army, the prince, the whole Commonwealth. May God bless them,
and long may they live!"
"Long may they live! Vivant! vivant!" cried the nobles.
"Long may they live! Long may they live!" repeated the Vishnyevetski
dragoons, till the thunder of their voices was heard over the fields of
Toporoff.
"To Tarnopol, to the prince, to the wedding!" cried Zagloba. "Well,
daughter, your sorrows are over, and for Bogun the executioner and the
sword."
The priest Tsetsishovski had his eyes raised to heaven, and his lips
repeated the wonderful words: "They sowed in tears, and reaped in joy."
Skshetuski was seated in the carriage at the side of the princess, and
the retinue moved on. The day was wonderfully bright; the oak-groves
and the fields were floating in sunlight. Low down on the fallow land,
and higher above them, and still higher in the blue air drifted here
and there silver threads of spider-web, which in the later autumn cover
the fields in those parts as if with snow. And there was great
stillness all around; but the horses snorted distinctly in the retinue.
"Pan Michael," said Zagloba, knocking his stirrup against that of
Volodyovski, "something has caught me by the throat, and holds me as in
that hour when Pan Longin--eternal rest to him!--went out from Zbaraj.
But when I think that these two have found each other at last, it is as
light in my heart as if I had drunk a quart at a draught. If the
accident of marriage does not strike you, in old age we'll nurse their
children. Every one is born for something special, Pan Michael, and
both of us it seems are better for war than wedlock."
The little knight made no answer, but began to move his mustaches more
vigorously than usual.
They were going to Toporoff and thence to Tarnopol, where they were to
join Prince Yeremi, and thence with his troops to the wedding at Lvoff.
On the way Zagloba told the lady of Sandomir what had happened
recently. She learned therefore that the king, after a murderous,
indecisive battle, had concluded a treaty with the Khan, not over
favorable, but securing peace to the Commonwealth, for some time at
least. Hmelnitski in virtue of the treaty remained hetman, and had the
right to select for himself forty thousand registered Cossacks, for
which concession he swore loyalty and obedience to the king and the
estates.
"It is an undoubted fact," said Zagloba, "that it will come to war
again with Hmelnitski; but if only the baton does not pass by our
prince, all will go differently."
"Tell Skshetuski the most important thing," said Volodyovski, urging
his horse nearer.
"True," answered Zagloba, "I wanted to begin with that, but I couldn't
catch my breath till now. You know nothing, Yan, of what has happened
since you came out,--that Bogun is a captive of the prince."
Skshetuski and the princess were astonished at this unexpected news to
such a degree that they could not speak a word. Helena merely raised
her hands, a moment of silence followed; then she asked: "How? In what
manner?"
"The finger of God is there," answered Zagloba,--"nothing else but the
finger of God. The negotiations were concluded, and we were just
marching out of that pestilent Zbaraj. The prince hurried with the
cavalry to the left wing to watch lest the horde should attack the
army, for frequently they do not observe treaties; when suddenly a
leader with three hundred horse rushed upon the cavalry of the prince."
"Only Bogun could do such a thing," said Skshetuski.
"It was he too. But it is not for Cossacks to fall upon soldiers of
Zbaraj. Pan Michael surrounded and cut them to pieces; and Bogun,
wounded by him a second time, went into captivity. He has no luck with
Pan Michael, and he must be convinced of it now, since that was the
third time he tried him; but he was only looking for death."
"It appeared," added Volodyovski, "that Bogun wished to reach Zbaraj
from Valadinka; but the road was a long one. He failed; and when he
learned that peace was concluded, his mind was confused from rage, and
he cared for nothing."
"Who draws the sword will perish by the sword, for such is the
fickleness of fortune," said Zagloba. "He is a mad Cossack, and the
madder since he is desperate. A terrible uproar arose on his account
between us and ruffiandom. We thought that it would come to war again,
for the prince cried first of all that they had broken the treaty.
Hmelnitski wanted to save Bogun; but the Khan was enraged at him, for,
said he, 'he has exposed my word and my oath to contempt.' The Khan
threatened Hmelnitski with war, and sent a messenger to the king with
notice that Bogun was a private robber, and with a request that the
prince would not hesitate, but treat Bogun as a bandit. It is probable
too that it was important for the Khan to get the captives away in
quiet. Of these the Tartars have taken so many that it will be possible
to buy a man in Stamboul for two hob-nails."
"What did the prince do with Bogun?" inquired Skshetuski, unquietly.
"The prince was about to give orders to shave a stake for him at once,
but he changed his mind and said: 'I'll give him to Skshetuski; let him
do what he likes with him.' Now the Cossack is in Tarnopol under
ground; the barber is taking care of his head. My God, how many times
the soul tried to go out of that man! Never have dogs torn the skin of
any wolf as we have his. Pan Michael alone bit him three times. But he
is a solid piece; though, to tell the truth, an unhappy man. But let
the hangman light him! I have no longer any ill-feeling against him,
except that he threatened me terribly and without cause; for I drank
with him, associated with him as with an equal, till he raised his hand
against you, my daughter. I might have finished him at Rozlogi. But I
know of old that there is no thankfulness in the world, and there are
few who give good for good. Let him--" Here Zagloba began to nod his
head. "And what will you do with him, Yan?" asked he. "The soldiers say
you will make an outrider of him, for he is a showy fellow; but I
cannot believe you would do that."
"Surely I shall not. He is a soldier of eminent daring, and because he
is unhappy is another reason that I should not disgrace him with any
servile function."
"May God forgive him everything!" said the princess.
"Amen!" answered Zagloba. "He prays to Death, as to a mother, to take
him, and he surely would have found it if he had not been late at
Zbaraj."
All grew silent, meditating on the marvellous changes of fortune, till
in the distance appeared Grabovo, where they stopped for their first
refreshments. They found there a crowd of soldiers returning from
Zborovo; Vitovski, the castellan of Sandomir, who was going with his
regiment to meet his wife, and Marek Sobieski, with Pshiyemski and many
nobles of the general militia who were returning home by that road. The
castle at Grabovo had been burned, as well as all the other buildings;
but as the day was wonderful,--warm and calm,--without seeking shelter
for their heads, all disposed themselves in the oak-grove under the
open sky. Large supplies of food and drink were brought, and the
servants immediately set about preparing the evening meal. Pan
Vitovski had tents pitched in the oak grove for the ladies and the
dignitaries,--a real camp, as it were. The knights collected before the
tents, wishing to see the princess and Pan Yan. Others spoke of the
past war; those who had not been at Zbaraj asked the soldiers of the
prince for the details of the siege; and it was noisy and joyous,
especially since God had given so beautiful a day.
Zagloba, telling for the thousandth time how he had killed Burlai, took
the lead among the nobles; Jendzian, among the servants who were
preparing the meal. But the adroit young fellow seized the fitting
moment, and drawing Skshetuski a little aside, bent obediently to his
feet. "My master," said he, "I should like to beg a favor."
"It would be difficult for me to refuse you anything," answered
Skshetuski, "since through you everything that is best has come to
pass."
"I thought at once," said the youth, "that you were preparing some
reward for me."
"Tell me what you want."
Jendzian's ruddy face grew dark, and from his eyes shot hatred and
stubbornness. "One favor I ask,--nothing more do I want. Give me Bogun,
my master."
"Bogun!" said Skshetuski, with astonishment. "What do you want to do
with him?"
"Oh, my master, I'll think of that. I'll see that my own is not lost,
and that he shall pay me with interest for having put me to shame in
Chigirin. I know surely that you will have him put out of the way. Let
me pay him first."
Skshetuski's brows contracted. "Impossible!" said he, with decision.
"Oh, for God's sake! I'd rather die," cried Jendzian, piteously. "To
think that I have lived for disgrace to fasten to me."
"Ask what you like, I'll refuse you nothing; but this cannot be. Ask
your grandfather if it is not more sinful to keep such a promise than
to abandon it. Do not touch God's punishing hand with your own, lest
you suffer. Be ashamed, Jendzian! This man as it is prays to God for
death; and besides he is wounded and in bonds. What do you want to be
to him,--an executioner? Do you want to put shame on a man in bonds, to
kill a wounded man? Are you a Tartar or a Cossack man-slayer? While I
live I will not permit this, and do not mention it to me!"
In the voice of Pan Yan there was so much power and will that the youth
lost every hope at once; therefore he added with a tearful voice: "When
he is well he could manage two like me, and when he is sick it is not
becoming to take vengeance. When shall I pay him for what I have
suffered?"
"Leave vengeance to God," said Pan Yan.
The youth opened his mouth. He wished to say something more, inquire
about something; but Pan Yan turned away and went to the tents, before
which a large assembly had collected. In the centre sat Pani Vitovska,
at her side the princess, around them the knights. In front of them
stood Zagloba, cap in hand. He was telling those who had been only at
Zborovo of the siege of Zbaraj. All listened to him with breathless
attention; their faces moved with emotion, and those who had not taken
part in the siege regretted that they had not been there. Pan Yan sat
near the princess, and taking her hand, pressed it to his lips: then
they leaned one against the other and sat quietly. The sun was already
leaving the sky, and evening was gradually coming. Skshetuski was lost
in attention, as if hearing something new for himself. Zagloba wiped
his brows, and his voice sounded louder and louder. Fresh memory or
imagination brought before the eyes of the knights those bloody deeds.
They saw therefore the ramparts as if surrounded by a sea, and the
raging assaults; they heard the tumult and the howling, the roar of
cannon and musketry; they saw the prince, in silver armor, standing on
the ramparts, amidst the hail of bullets; then suffering, famine; those
red nights in which death circled like a great ill-omened bird over the
intrenchments; the departure of Podbipienta, of Skshetuski. All
listened, sometimes raising their eyes to heaven or grasping their
swords, and Zagloba finished thus:--
"It is now one tomb, one mighty mound; and if beneath it are not now
lying the glory of the Commonwealth, the flower of its knighthood, the
prince voevoda, I, and all of us, whom the Cossacks themselves call the
lions of Zbaraj, it is owing to him!" And he pointed to Skshetuski.
"True as life!" cried Marek Sobieski and Pan Pshiyemski.
"Glory to him,--honor, thanks!" strong voices began to cry. "Vivat
Skshetuski! vivat the young couple! Long life to the hero!" was cried
louder and louder.
Enthusiasm seized all present. Some ran for the goblets; others threw
their caps in the air. The soldiers began to rattle their sabres, and
soon was heard one general shout: "Glory! glory! Long life!"
Skshetuski, like a true Christian knight, dropped his head obediently;
but the princess rose, shook her tresses, a glow came in her face, her
eyes were gleaming with pride,--for this knight was to be her husband,
and the glory of the husband falls on the wife like the light of the
sun on the earth.
Late at night the assembly parted, going in two directions. Vitovski,
Pshiyemski, and Sobieski marched with their regiments toward Toporoff;
but Skshetuski, with the princess and the squadron of Volodyovski, to
Tarnopol. The night was clear as day. Myriads of stars shone in the
sky; the moon rose and illuminated the fields covered with spider-webs.
The soldiers began to sing. Then white mists rose from the meadows and
turned the land as it were into one gigantic lake, shining in the light
of the moon.
On such a night Skshetuski once went forth from Zbaraj, and on such a
night now he felt the heart of Kurtsevichovna beating near his own.
EPILOGUE.
But this tragedy of history was finished neither at Zborovo nor Zbaraj,
and not even the first act of it. Two years later all Cossackdom rushed
forth to do battle with the Commonwealth. Hmelnitski rose mightier than
ever before; and with him marched the Khan of all the hordes, attended
by the same leaders who had fought at Zbaraj,--the wild Tugai Bey, Urum
Murza, Artimgirei, Nureddin, Galga, Amurat, and Subahazi. Pillars of
flame and groans of men went on before them; thousands of warriors
covered the fields, filled the forests; half a million of mouths sent
forth shouts of war, and it seemed to men that the end of the
Commonwealth had come.
But the Commonwealth had risen from its lethargy, had broken with the
past policy of the chancellor, with treaties and negotiations. It was
seen at last that the sword alone could win enduring peace. When the
king therefore marched against the hostile inundation, there went with
him an army of one hundred thousand soldiers and nobles, besides
legions of irregulars and attendants.
No one living of the personages in the foregoing narrative was absent.
Prince Yeremi Vishnyevetski was there with his whole division, in which
were serving, as of old, Skshetuski and Volodyovski, with the volunteer
Zagloba; both hetmans, Pototski and Kalinovski, were there, ransomed at
that time from Tartar captivity. There were present also Stephen
Charnetski, later on the crusher of Karl Gustav, the Swedish king; Pan
Pshiyemski, commander of all the artillery; General Ubald: Pan
Artsishevski; Marek Sobieski, starosta of Krasnostav, with his brother,
Yan Sobieski, starosta of Yavorov, afterward King Yan III.; Ludvik
Weyher, voevoda of Pomorie; Yakob, voevoda of Marienburg;
Konyetspolski, the standard-bearer; Prince Dominik Zaslavski; the
bishops, the dignitaries of the Crown, the senators,--the whole
Commonwealth, with its supreme leader the king.
On the fields of Berestechko those many legions met at last, and there
was fought one of the greatest battles of history,--a battle the echoes
of which thundered through all contemporary Europe. It lasted for three
days. During the first two the fates wavered; on the third a general
engagement decided the victory.
Prince Yeremi began that engagement; and he was seen in front of the
entire left wing as, armorless and bareheaded, he swept like a
hurricane over the field against those gigantic legions, formed of all
the mounted heroes of the Zaporojie, and all the Tartars,--Crimean,
Nogai, and Bélgorod,--of Silistrian and Rumelian Turks, Urumbalis,
Janissaries, Serbs, Wallachians, Periotes, and other wild warriors
assembled from the Ural, the Caspian, and the swamps of Mæotis to the
Danube. As a river vanishes from the eye in the foaming waves of the
sea, so vanished from the eye the regiments of the prince in that sea
of the enemy. A cloud of dust moved on the plain like a mad whirlwind
and covered the combatants.
The whole army and the king stood gazing on this superhuman struggle.
Leshchinski, the vice-chancellor, raised aloft the wood of the Holy
Cross, and with it blessed the perishing.
Meanwhile, on the other flank, the army of the king was approached by
the whole Cossack tabor, two hundred thousand strong, bristling with
cannon, which vomited fire. It was like a dragon pushing slowly out of
the woods his gigantic claws.
But before the bulk of the enemy had issued from the dust in which
Vishnyevetski's regiments had disappeared, horsemen began to drop away
from their ranks, then tens, hundreds, thousands, and tens of thousands
of them, and rush to the height on which stood the Khan surrounded by
his chosen guard. The wild legions fled in mad panic and disorder,
pursued by the Poles. Thousands of Cossacks and Tartars strewed the
battle-field; and among them lay, cut in two by a double-handed sword,
the sworn enemy of the Poles but the trusty ally of the Cossacks, the
wild and manful Tugai Bey.
The terrible prince had triumphed.
But the king looked with the eye of a leader on the triumph of the
prince, and determined to break the hordes before the Cossacks could
come up. All the forces moved, all the cannon thundered, scattering
death and disorder. Soon the brother of the Khan, the lordly Amurat,
fell struck in the breast with a bullet. The hordes roared with pain.
Wounded in the very beginning of the battle, the Khan looked on the
field with dismay. From the distance came Pshiyemski in the midst of
cannon and fire, and the king with the horse; from both flanks the
earth thundered beneath the weight of the cavalry rushing to the fight.
Then Islam Girei quivered, left the field, and fled; and after him fled
in disorder all the hordes,--the Wallachians, the Urumbali, the mounted
warriors of the Zaporojie, the Silistrian Turks, and the renegades,--as
a cloud before a whirlwind.
The despairing Hmelnitski caught up with the fugitives, wishing to
prevail on the Khan to return to the battle; but the Khan, bellowing
with rage at the sight of the hetman, ordered the Tartars to seize,
bind him to a horse, and bear him away.
Now there remained but the Cossack tabor. The leader of that tabor,
colonel of Krapivna, Daidyalo, knew not what had happened to
Hmelnitski; but seeing the defeat and shameful flight of all the
hordes, he stopped the advance, and pushing back with the tabor, halted
in the marshy forks of the Pleshova.
Now a storm burst in the heavens, and measureless torrents of rain
rushed down. "God was washing the land after a just battle." The rain
lasted some days, and some days the armies of the king rested, wearied
from struggles; during this time the tabor surrounded itself with
ramparts, and was changed into a gigantic movable fortress.
With the return of fair weather began a siege, the most wonderful ever
seen in life. The hundred thousand warriors of the king besieged the
twice one hundred thousand Zaporojians. The king needed cannon,
provisions, ammunition. The Zaporojians had immeasurable supplies of
powder and all necessaries, and besides seventy cannon of heavier and
lighter calibre. But at the head of the king's armies was the king, and
the Cossacks had not Hmelnitski. The armies of the king were
strengthened by a recent victory; the Cossacks were in doubt of
themselves.
Several days passed; hope of the return of Hmelnitski and the Khan
disappeared. Then negotiations began. The Cossack colonels came to the
king, and beat the forehead to him, asking for pardon; they visited the
senators' tents, seizing them by their garments, promising to get
Hmelnitski even from under the earth and deliver him to the king.
The heart of Yan Kazimir was not opposed to forgiveness. He wished to
let the rabble return to their homes if all the officers were
surrendered; these he determined to keep till Hmelnitski should be
rendered up. But such an agreement was not to the mind of the officers,
who, from the enormity of their offences, had no hope of forgiveness.
Therefore in time of negotiations battles continued, desperate sallies,
and every day Polish and Cossack blood flowed in abundance. The
Cossacks fought in the daytime with bravery and the rage of despair;
but at night whole clouds of them hung round the camp of the king,
howling dismally for pardon.
Daidyalo was inclined to compromise, and was willing to give his head
as a sacrifice to the king, if he could only ransom the army and the
people. But dissension rose in the Cossack camp. Some wished to
surrender, others to defend themselves to the death; but all were
thinking how to escape from the tabor. To the boldest, however, this
seemed impossible. The tabor was surrounded by the forks of the river
and by immense swamps. Defence was possible for whole years, but to
retreat only one road was open,--through the armies of the king. Of
that road no one in the camp thought.
Negotiations, interrupted by battles, dragged on lazily. Dissensions
among the Cossacks became greater and more frequent. In one of these
Daidyalo was deposed from leadership, and a new man chosen. His name
gave fresh strength to the fallen spirits of the Cossacks, and striking
a loud echo in the camp of the king, roused in some hearts forgotten
memories of past sorrows and misfortunes. The name of the new leader
was Bogun. He had already occupied a lofty position among the Cossacks
in council, and in action the general voice indicated him as the
successor of Hmelnitski.
Bogun, foremost of the Cossack colonels, stood with the Tartars at
Berestechko at the head of fifty thousand men. He took part in the
three days' cavalry fight, and defeated with the Khan and the hordes by
Yeremi, he succeeded in bringing out of the defeat the greater part of
his forces and finding shelter in the camp. Then after Daidyalo the
party opposed to conciliation gave him chief command, hoping that he
was the one man able to save the tabor and the army.
In truth the young leader would not hear of negotiations. He wanted
battle and blood, even if he had to drown in that blood himself. But
soon he saw that with his troops it was vain to think of passing with
armed hand over the bodies of the king's army. Therefore he grasped
after other means.
History has preserved the memory of those matchless efforts which to
contemporaries seemed worthy of a giant, and which might have saved the
army and the mob.
Bogun determined to pass through the bottomless swamp of the Pleshova,
and build over those quagmires a bridge of such make that all the
besieged might cross. Whole forests began then to fall under the axes
of the Cossacks and sink in the swamp. Wagons, tents, coats, sheepskins
were thrown in, and the bridge extended day by day. It appeared that
there was nothing impossible to that leader.
The king deferred the assault, from aversion to bloodshed. But seeing
these gigantic works, he recognized that there was no other way, and
ordered the trumpets to sound in the evening for the final struggle.
No one knew of that intention in the Cossack camp, and the bridge
lengthened all night as before. In the morning Bogun went forth at the
head of the officers to examine the work.
It was Monday, July 7, 1651. The morning of that day rose pale, as if
from fright; the dawn was bloody in the east; the sun appeared, red,
sickly; a sort of bloody reflection lighted the woods and forests. From
the Polish camp they were driving the horses to pasture; the Cossack
tabor sounded with the voices of awakened men. Fires were lighted, the
morning meal prepared. All saw the departure of Bogun, his retinue and
the cavalry going with him, by the aid of which he intended to drive
away the voevoda of Bratslav, who had occupied the rear of the tabor
and was injuring the Cossack works with his cannon.
The crowd looked on the departure quietly, and even with hope in their
hearts. Thousands of eyes followed the young commander, and thousands
of mouths said: "God bless thee, my falcon!"
The leader, the retinue, and the cavalry receded gradually from the
tabor, came to the edge of the forest, glittered once more in the early
sunlight, and began to disappear in the thicket. Then some awful,
terrified voice shouted, or rather howled, at the gate of the tabor:
"Save yourselves, men!"
"The officers are fleeing!" roared hundreds and thousands of voices.
The roar passed through the crowd, as when a whirlwind strikes a
pine-wood; and then a terrible, unearthly cry burst forth from two
hundred thousand throats: "Save yourselves! Save yourselves! The Poles!
The officers are fleeing!" Masses of men rose at once, like a mad
torrent. Fires were trodden out, wagons and tents overturned, palings
broken to pieces, men trampled and suffocated. Piles of bodies barred
the road. They rushed over corpses, amidst howls, shouts, uproar,
groans. Crowds poured from the square, burst on to the bridge, stuck in
the swamp; the drowning seized one another with convulsive embraces,
and crying to heaven for mercy, sank in the cold moving swamp. On the
bridge began a battle and slaughter for place. The waters of the
Pleshova were filled with bodies. The Nemesis of history took terrible
payment for Pilavtsi with Berestechko.
The awful shouts came to the ears of the young leader, and he knew at
once what had happened. But in vain did he return at that moment to the
tabor; in vain did he turn to meet the crowd with hands raised to
heaven. His voice was lost in the roar of thousands. The terrible river
of fugitives bore him away, with his horse, his retinue, and all the
cavalry, and carried him on to destruction.
The armies of the king were amazed at the sight of this movement, which
some mistook at first for a desperate attack. But it was difficult not
to believe the eyes of all. A few moments later, when their amazement
had passed, all the regiments, without waiting even for command, rushed
upon the enemy. First went like a whirlwind the dragoon regiment; in
the front of it Volodyovski, with sabre above his head.
The day of vengeance, defeat, and judgment had come, Whoever was not
trampled or drowned went under the sword. The rivers were so filled
with blood, that it could not be told whether blood or water flowed in
them. The bewildered crowds, still more disordered, began to trample
and push one another into the water, and drown. Death filled those
awful forests, and reigned in them the more terribly since strong
divisions began to defend themselves with rage. Battles were fought in
the swamp, on the stumps, in the field. The voevoda of Bratslav cut off
retreat to the fugitives. In vain did the king give orders to restrain
the soldiers. Mercy had perished; and the slaughter lasted till
night,--a slaughter such as the oldest warriors did not remember, and
at the recollection of which the hair rose on their heads in later
times.
When at last darkness covered the earth, the victors themselves were
terrified at their work. No "Te Deum" was sung, and not tears of joy,
but of regret and sorrow, flowed from the eyes of the king.
So ended the first act in the drama of which Hmelnitski was the author.
But Bogun did not lay down his head with others in that day of horror.
Some say that, seeing the defeat, he was the first to save himself by
flight; others, that a certain knight of his acquaintance saved him. No
one was able to reach the truth. This alone is certain, that in
succeeding wars his name came out frequently among the names of the
most noted leaders of the Cossacks. A shot from some vengeful hand
struck him a few years later, but even then his last day did not come.
After the death of Prince Vishnyevetski, from military toils, when the
domains of Lubni fell away from the body of the Commonwealth, Bogun
obtained possession of the greater part of their area. It was said that
at last he would not recognize Hmelnitski over him. Hmelnitski himself,
broken, cursed by his own people, sought aid from abroad; but the
haughty Bogun refused every guardianship, and was ready to defend his
Cossack freedom with the sword.
It was said, too, that a smile never appeared on the lips of this
strange man. He lived not in Lubni, but in a village which he raised
from its ashes, and which was called Rozlogi.
Intestine wars survived him, and continued for a long time; then came
the plague and the Swedes. The Tartars were almost continual visitors
in the Ukraine, carrying legions of people into captivity. The
Commonwealth became a desert; a desert the Ukraine. Wolves howled on
the ruins of former towns, and a land once flourishing became a mighty
graveyard. Hatred grew into the hearts and poisoned the blood of
brothers.
NOTES.
POLISH ALPHABET.
Since the Polish alphabet has many peculiar phonetic combinations which
are difficult to one who does not know the language, it was decided to
transliterate the names of persons and places in which such
combinations occur in this book. The following are the letters and
combinations which are met with most frequently:--
Polish Letters. English Sounds.
_c_ _ts_
_cz_ _ch_ in "chief"
_sz_ _sh_ in "ship"
_szcz_ _shch_
_rz_ _r_ followed by the French _j_
_w_ _v_
_[.z]_ _j_ in French
In this transliteration _ch_ retains its ordinary English sound. _Kh_
is used as the German _ch_, or the Gaelic _ch_ in "loch;" so is _h_, as
in Hmelnitski, and a few names in which it is used at the beginning and
preceding a consonant, where it has the power of the German _ch_. _J_
is the French _j_; the vowels _e_, _i_, _u_, are, respectively, _ai_ in
"bait," _ee_ in "beet," _oo_ in "pool," when long; when short, "bet,"
"bit," "put" would represent their values.
The following names will illustrate the method of this
transliteration:--
Polish Form of Name. Form in Transliteration.
Potocki Pototski
Kulczinski Kulchinski
Gdeszinski Gdeshinski
Leszczinski Leshchinski
Rzendzian Jendzian
Woronczenko Voronchenko
[.Z]abkowski Jabkovski
In Jendzian the initial _R_ has been omitted, on account of the extreme
difficulty of its sound to any one not a Pole. In Skrzetuski, a very
difficult name also, _sh_ has been used instead of the French _j_,
because in this word the two sounds are almost identical, and the sound
of _sh_ is known to all, while _j_ is not.
ACCENT.
All Polish words, with few exceptions, are accented on the syllable
next the last, the penult. The exceptions are foreign names, some
compounds, some words with enclitics. Polish names of men and places
are generally accented on the penult. In Russian--both of the Ukraine
and the North, or of Little and Great Russia--there is much freedom in
placing the accent. In this book there are many Russian names of men
and places; but the majority of names are accented on the penult. It
has been thought best, therefore, to state this fact, and place accents
only on words accented on syllables other than the penult. Some of
these were accented in the body of the book; the rest are accented
here. The following names of men are accented on the last syllable:--
Balaban Burdabut
Barabash Chernota
Bogun
The following names of places are accented as indicated:--
Bakche Seraí Korovái
Bazalúk Mírgorod
Bélgorod Perekóp
Bóguslav Sekírnaya
Gálata Sléporod
Hassan Pashá Volochísk
Kámenyets Yagorlík
Polish names in _ski_ and _vich_ are adjectives, regularly declined,
with masculine and feminine endings. The titles of address _Pan_,
_Pani_, _Panna_, refer respectively to a gentleman, a married lady, an
unmarried lady. The following are examples:--
Pan Kurtsevich, Pani Kurtsevichova,
Panna Kurtsevichovna.
These three forms when applied to one family refer to the father,
mother, and an unmarried daughter.
The ending in _ski_ is not so complicated; for instance,--
Pan Pototski, Pani Pototska,
Panna Pototska.
The names in _vich_ denote descent; those in _ski_, origin in, or
lordship over, a place.
Nikolai Pototski, Grand Hetman, captured at Korsún, was Pan Pototski,
which means lord of Potok (Potok being the name of the place which he
inherited); he was also Pan Krakovski, lord of Krakov (Cracow), because
he was castellan of Krakov (Cracow), an office to which he was
appointed by the king.
The names of villages which Zagloba mentions as belonging to
Podbipienta are curious enough, whether real or invented by the
whimsical narrator; as is also the name Povsinoga, which he gives the
tall Lithuanian, and which means "tramp." The villages--taken in the
order in which he gives them on page 540--Myshikishki, Psikishki,
Pigvishki, Sirutsiani, Tsiaputsiani, Kapustsiana glowa, Baltupye,
are--excluding the first two, the meanings of which are given on page
20--Crabapple town, Homespunville, Simpletown, Cabbagehead, and
Slabtown.
The soup botvinia, mentioned in connection with Podbipienta and Pan
Kharlamp, which is made of vegetables and fish in eastern Russia, may
be made, it seems, without fish in Lithuania. The word is used
figuratively to designate a rustic or stay-at-home villager.
OFFICES AND THINGS.
_Balalaika_, a stringed instrument used in southern Russia, resembling
the guitar.
_Cástellan_, the chief of a town or city under Polish rule, as well as
the district connected with it. The castellan was always a senator, and
was appointed by the king.
_Chambul_, a party of mounted Tartars.
_Koshevói_, chief of a Cossack camp.
_Kurén_, a company or group of Cossacks as well as the barracks in
which they lived.
_Sotnik_, a captain of Cossacks. This word is exactly equivalent to
"centurion," and is derived from _sto_, "one hundred," with the
nominative ending _nik_.
_Stanitsa_, a Cossack village.
_Stárosta_, chief of a town under Polish control.
_Starshiní_, elders. This word meant for the Cossacks the whole body of
their officers.
_Telega_, the ordinary springless wagon of Russia, smaller than the
country wagon in the United States.
_Teorbán_, or _Torbán_, a large musical instrument of twenty strings or
more.
_Voevoda_, governor and commander of troops in a province,
corresponding to the military governor of modern times. This office was
common to the Poles and the Russians of the East or Moscow.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: The author uses Skshetuski, the family name of his hero,
oftener than Yan, his Christian name, prefixing Pan = Mr. in both
cases. I have taken the liberty of using Yan oftener than Skshetuski
because more easily pronounced in English.]
[Footnote 2: Tear-trousers.]
[Footnote 3: Tear-cowl.]
[Footnote 4: Dog entrails.]
[Footnote 5: Mouse entrails.]
[Footnote 6: This is the popular form in Little Russian; therefore it
is quoted.]
[Footnote 7: The right bank of the Dnieper was called Russian; the
left, Tartar.]
[Footnote 8: Hmelnitski is made to apply the title Tsar to the Khan,
either to give him more importance in the eyes of the Cossacks or
because Tugai Bey was present.]
[Footnote 9: The author uses sometimes the word _vudka_ and sometimes
_gorailka_. The first is Polish; the second Little Russian. Both mean a
liquor distilled generally from rye. When _vudka_ is used it might mean
that the liquor was from Poland, and when _gorailka_ that it was of
Ukraine origin; but here the words are used indifferently.]
[Footnote 10: _Krívonos_ signifies "crooked nose;" _Prostonos_,
"straight nose."]
[Footnote 11: "Holota" (Nakedness) was used as a nickname in those days
to designate a poor nobleman. Abstract nouns were used by the Cossacks
also as names; e. g., Colonel Chernota, which means "blackness."]
[Footnote 12: City of the Tsar = Constantinople.]
[Footnote 13: A pun on "Pulyan," which in Polish means "half Yan," or
John.]
[Footnote 14: "Hmel," a nickname for Hmelnitski among the Poles, =
"hops."]
[Footnote 15: Holota (Nakedness) was often given as a nickname to a
poor noble.]
[Footnote 16: Nicknames given by Hmelnitski to the three Polish
commanders.]
[Footnote 17: _Kapustsiani_, "of cabbage," the masculine form of the
adjective. _Kapustsiana glowa_ means "a cabbage head; a stupid fellow."
_Glowa_ is the ordinary word for _head_ in Polish, and takes the
feminine adjective ending in _a_: hence _Kapustsiana_. For explanation
of the other names see list of names and places.]
[Footnote 18: This means, "Everything or nothing;" "Carry the day or go
to a monastery."]
[Footnote 19: Circassians from the Caucasus.]
[Footnote 20: _Div_ is a Persian word for "demon" or "evil spirit."
This word meant "a divinity" in times anterior to Zoroaster, and is
identical with the root _div_ in our word "divine." In India and Europe
it retained its original signification, and became of evil import only
in Persia, in consequence of the triumph of Zoroastrianism.]
[Footnote 21: "Panowie" is the plural of Pan.]