MICHAEL OF CHERNIGOFF
Michael of Chernigoff wished to show how a Russian prince could bear
himself when in despair over the ruin of his country, and when he felt
that a Christian could not live under Mongols. Unlike his family,
Michael was not noted for mental endowments. He had been ambitious; he
had sought power as keenly as others and more than once had begged
pardon of Daniel, saying that he had not kept his oath; but, with all
his human failings and weakness, he preserved in his soul with more
vividness than many the testament, “I am a Christian.” He had been in
some ways distinguished. To begin with, he was an only son, and,
according to family tradition, a son given in answer to prayerful
entreaties. He and the wife of Yuri of Vladimir, that princess who had
perished in the burning church and the blazing city, were the two
children of Chermny. In addition to general weakness, he had suffered
since childhood from a seemingly incurable disorder, which subjected
him to marvelous illusions. He sought relief in vain and was unsparing
of outlay. The greatest physicians of that time were powerless; no help
could be found for him. At last, by the prayers of a saint, he was
freed from the disease. He was cured by a miracle before age settled
down on him.
Michael heard that in Pereyaslavl Nikita, an old man, was living on the
top of a pillar, and was saving his soul there. The prince took with
him two intimate boyars and some attendants, and went to that land
beyond the forest. Never had he been so troubled with hellish attacks,
never had they so tormented and overcome him as when he was nearing the
place where Nikita was winning salvation. He had dreadful visions, and
when awake he was as if demented. The boyars who were sent to Nikita to
inform him of Michael’s arrival, received from the saint a staff with
the command to give it to Michael. The prince took the gift and from
that hour he was freed from his trouble. He went to the pillar
serenely, and a blessing was given him. On the place where his tent had
stood and where he was cured, the prince erected a cross, and wrote on
it the date of his recovery, May 16, 1186. A chapel stands on that spot
to-day. He gave liberal gifts to the Pereyaslavl monastery, and
returned home to be well ever after.
If, to such peculiarities of Michael in youth, we add other traits,
they are those forms of his kindly disposition which touched even the
hearts of the stern men of Novgorod, when he was prince in their city.
They never forgot that when they crushed Michael’s enemies, who were
partisans of Yaroslav, son of Big Nest, Michael did not let Novgorod
drown one of those persons in the Volkof, or inflict death upon any
man. Besides, the prince did not take any property from men whose
effects were subjected to seizure; he persuaded Novgorod adherents not
to divide for their own use the goods of the guilty, but to use them
for the public good. Later on those men boasted that they had taken
nothing, but had used all to build a second bridge in the city at the
persistent advice of Prince Michael.
In 1245 this only son of Chermny, and grandson of Sviatoslav, “the
sister’s son,” was in such a position that the fate of other princes
could not be compared with it for hopelessness. Through nearness to the
Golden Horde his inheritance was a part of the immediate possessions of
Batu, and, speaking correctly, Michael had nothing left to him. His
wife, a sister of Daniel and Vassilko, had found a refuge with her
brothers; the husband of his only daughter, Vassilko, son of
Constantine of Vladimir, had been killed most cruelly, and later his
widow became a nun in Suzdal. All of Michael’s near relatives had lost
their lives mercilessly. His only son, Rostislav, was more a cause of
suffering than of pleasure. As has already been stated, he was
betrothed and about to marry a daughter of King Bela. Michael went to
Hungary to be present at the marriage, but the king, upon hearing that
Chernigoff was utterly ruined, changed his mind very quickly, and
father and son found it well to leave the country.
Michael felt bitter pain in his heart at this proof of the falsehood
and selfishness of mankind. But when the king himself had been struck
by the Mongol tempest, he changed his mind and agreed to the marriage.
Whether Michael consented this time or not, he did not go to the
wedding. Still, out of love for his son he could not refrain later on
from a journey to see the young couple. He experienced then a new
sorrow and a suffering far greater than that which had struck him the
first time, for King Bela and his son both turned from Michael: the
first from his daughter’s father-in-law, the second from his own
father.
Having lost all in this world that was dear to him, Michael returned to
the ashes of Chernigoff, accompanied by only one faithful person,
Feodor, his intimate boyar. Each now took an oath to the other that he
would give an example of how men will die if there is Christian faith
in them. This was at the time when Batu had declared to all Russia that
he considered its subjection accomplished, and invited the princes and
common men who had fled and were then in concealment to come back to
their places, and live as was proper for subjects. Up to the time of
that declaration towns, hamlets and villages were deserted. Men had
settled down to live among wild beasts, and were hiding wherever
concealment was possible. When this announcement was made by Batu, the
people returned to the ashes of their dwellings, and the princes
explained to them what would now be their duties. Those of the princes
who were left assembled from all parts of conquered Russia and went to
Batu at the Horde. There they begged him for the power which had so
recently been their own. And to each who bowed down before him in
submission, and according to Mongol ceremony, the Khan gave the place
which seemed good to him.
Michael did not go to the Horde to get power in Chernigoff. He had no
desire now for the deceits of this transient existence; he went to lay
down his life among Mongols, but he wished to so die that his death
would be a sermon to Russia, and strengthen the souls of all
Christians. He said to Ioann, his confessor: “I wish to stand with him
before Batu,” and he pointed to Feodor, his boyar. “Many go to that
place and accomplish the will of the pagan,” replied Father Ioann.
“Being tempted by this world’s deceitful glory they walk between fires,
they bow down before the sun, trees, and other objects. Do that not, O
Michael, but declare before pagans that it is a sin to worship things
created.” “With the aid of thy prayers, holy father,” said the prince,
and the boyar, “as is pleasing to God, so will it be in our action. We
wish to shed our blood for Christ’s holy teaching.” Ioann blessed them
for their high undertaking, and added: “If ye will appear as new
martyrs in our wild, sinful century, do this for the strengthening of
people.” With faith and with many exhortations, the priest gave them
additional communion bread to take with them, to use in case of need,
and blessed the two men for the journey, saying: “May God give you
strength, and send His holy Spirit to uphold you.”
When Michael reached the Horde, and announced his arrival, Batu
commanded the wizards and witches to present him in the usual way. They
led the prince and his boyar toward the Khan’s residence, and soon they
saw a multitude of people, Mongols, Russians and others. Some were
bowing to fires and bushes; others were muttering words and looking at
the sun, or gazing at the fire. Women were whispering toward the fires
and throwing into them chips of food, scraps of cloth, silk, and satin,
bits of down, and little bundles of fur plucked from costly peltry
brought as presents to the ruler. All things brought as gifts were
first made pure by this ceremony of burning. Then the wizards told
those to be presented to the Khan how they should pass between the two
fires and be purified.
Wizards now came to Michael and Feodor and asked them to approach. But
when they neared the fires and saw people passing between them, Michael
halted. “I think,” said he, “that we ought not to follow.”
The wizards urged. “We are Christians,” answered Michael, “and will not
worship any created thing. We will not go between your fires, and will
not bow down to idols.” These bold words put an end to the pending
presentation. The two men were led aside and left in peace.
Batu, when informed of this refusal to conform to established
ceremonies, sent to persuade Michael with kindness. The Mongols knew
how to soften orders by decreasing ceremonial so much that disobedience
would seem simply stubbornness. Batu sent a man of high degree named
Eldage, who had great power of persuasion. “Why offend the Khan?” asked
Eldage. “Is anything difficult demanded?” But Michael would not bend to
idols. “Why not carry out the Khan’s directions?” continued Eldage.
“Only refrain from offending him and thou wilt be honored; thou wilt
receive thy principality. Whoso will not bow to the sun is not worthy
to look at it. Why not bow before fire? Preserve thy life; receive thy
principality. If thou wilt not carry out the Khan’s orders, think what
will happen to you.”
But Michael was immovable. “Because of our sins, God has given us to
you,” said he. “Say to the Khan from me: ‘I bow to thee, O sovereign,
because God has given rule to thee and this world’s glory, but I will
never bow to that which these people are worshiping.’” “Let it be known
to thee,” broke in Eldage, “that thou hast lost life already.” “I am
willing to die for Christ,” replied Michael.
But even after this, Batu gave some chance for pardon. Many Russians
now came to Michael and endeavored to change his decision. Most
important of all was Boris, his own grandchild, his daughter’s youthful
son, the first born of Vassilko, son of Constantine, and grandson of
Big Nest. The Russians began imploring and persuading Michael not to
risk life for mere ceremony. His grandson fell at his feet. “O my
father, my lord, bow down, do the will of the Khan,” begged he,
weeping. “God himself sees,” added the boyars of the young prince,
“that thou art constrained and not acting of thy own will. Would He
take account of such an action?”
“I do not wish to be a Christian in name,” replied Michael, “and yet do
the deeds of a pagan.” The boyars denied not the sin, but they took it
from him. They said that since he had given a promise to suffer for
Christ they would take on themselves that promise and obtain pardon.
The young prince clung to his grandfather; he begged, he implored, and
wept. Eldage saw with pleasure that Michael was weakening, and said
nothing further. But Feodor, the boyar, fearing lest Michael might
falter at sight of those who were imploring and weeping, led him to one
side and spoke thus to him: “Remember the words of Ioann, which he took
from the Gospel: ‘Whosoever will save his life shall lose it.’ Remember
also the words: ‘Whoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny
before my father, which is in heaven.’”
All surrounded Michael again, and again they entreated. “No, no,”
answered Michael; and on a sudden he loosened the sword from his side
and hurled it to a distance. Then he slipped from his shoulder the
princely mantle and threw it away from him, saying: “Take the glory of
this world, I want it no longer.”
Eldage’s delight became anger, and turning in rage to Michael, he said
sternly, “Life or death, choose now between them!” Those were his last
words. “I am a Christian,” replied Michael. “Go and say to the Khan
that I will not go between fires, I will not bow down to idols.”
Eldage walked away, leaving all in deep sorrow. Michael and Feodor read
the psalms; those who were near made the sign of the cross with them.
No one used arguments now. Men saw how Michael and Feodor took the
communion bread which they had received from the priest Ioann, and
brought with them.
Suddenly the people cried, “They are coming! they are coming!” A party
of horsemen rode up. These were the men sent to kill Michael and
Feodor, who were repeating aloud, “Thy martyrs, O Lord, who have not
rejected Thee, suffering for Christ’s sake, undergoing many torments.”
The executioners rushed at Michael, stretched apart his arms, and
throwing him to the earth backward, they fell to beating the old man
with fists on the breast and near the heart, with much violence. When
he was half dead they turned him face downward and jumped on him,
stamping with their heels till life left him. They had to murder him
with blows, and not with the sword, since that was the Mongol method
with princes. The corpse was then decapitated by one of the Mongol
spectators. This man proved to be a thief and a renegade from Russia,
who had gone over to the enemy. He whispered afterward to the boyar:
“Bow down and thou wilt live. Perhaps they will give thee Michael’s
dominion.” Feodor made no answer, but turning to the executioners he
said: “I am ready to follow my prince.” And he was killed also.
It was the Mongol custom to give the bodies of their victims to the
dogs to be eaten, but the multitude of Russians living at the Horde
gathered them nightly, when the dogs were loosened, and prayed above
them. Thus the bodies of the martyrs were saved, and taken to
Chernigoff, where they rested till Tsar Ivan Vassilivitch wished to
have them. The bodies of Michael and his boyar are now in the cathedral
of the Archangel Michael in Moscow.