RUSSIA UNDER MONGOL RULE
After Yuri’s death on the Siti, in 1238, the Vladimir throne of
Dolgoruki and Big Nest was taken by his eldest brother, Yaroslav.
Yaroslav thought of his birthplace in that splendid time when his
father’s power covered Russia, and his capital, with its magnificent
edifices, was considered as the chief of all cities. In his youth he
had shared with Yuri, his brother, in the deeds and humiliation of that
time when the first place among princes was won by Mystislav the
Gallant, who took the Vladimir throne and gave it to their eldest
brother, Constantine, after that prince had been deprived of seniority
by Big Nest, because of disobedience. In manhood Yaroslav had worked
with Yuri at one time, at another against him, in Chernigoff and
Novgorod. He had ruled in Pereyaslavl; he had ruled in Novgorod many
times in succession, and in Kief more than once.
Yaroslav’s previous life had passed, not merely without fruitful
action, but even in action which dimmed his reputation. It had passed
in barren wars, which were for the greater part the mere wanton,
fighting amusement of princes. Only in riper years, when, in time of
bitter slavery, he held the throne of Vladimir under Mongols, and when
he had passed through the woe of the Russian land in common with all
people, did he redeem his past errors and receive that respect which
made his name memorable and won for him that love which he could not
obtain earlier.
When Yaroslav returned to Vladimir the people met him with grateful
tears and a touching delight, with prayers to the Almighty and with
thankfulness. All saw in him now a prince who had suffered with the
people, and a still greater merit was this,—that he was ready to suffer
with them in future. Everything that had happened before the Mongol
tempest seemed now very distant, a past gone forever, but a past with
its terrible relics. What Yaroslav had seen while returning to Vladimir
was ghastly to look at and remember. He had passed through places worse
than a desert. Vladimir was one half destroyed, one half charred and
blackened. There were dead bodies everywhere,—in the streets, in the
houses, in the churches. Yaroslav’s first task was to cleanse, to clear
out and purify, to bury the dead; clear away the ruins; summon the
people from forests and dens of concealment; to struggle with hunger,
which threatened to increase, and with pestilence, which follows
closely on hunger; to restore order; and begin anew to establish that
which had been created by generations of labor and had been lost in
that one Mongol horror.
Novgorod, which had survived, owing to the fact that the Mongols
considered it a part of Vladimir, now by necessity became more nearly
connected with the capital; besides the destruction and ruin of
Southern Russia had greatly affected Novgorod by barring the road to
princes from Kief or Chernigoff. Above all, by a marvelous provision,
Alexander, son of Yaroslav, rose now among princes, and his immense
work in those days of anguish strengthened Northern Russia and saved
it. When Yaroslav in 1237 undertook to reign in Kief, he seated in
Novgorod his son, Alexander, who later on was famous for his victory on
the Neva, which gave him his second name, Nevski. Though Alexander
became Novgorod’s favorite, that city could never live long in peace
even with the best of its princes, and Alexander thought more than once
of leaving the place. In 1240 he went away with his mother, the
daughter of Mystislav the Gallant, his wife, and his court to
Pereyaslavl Beyond the Forest. Then when at the city’s request Yaroslav
sent his second son, Novgorod wanted Alexander back. At that time the
Mongols attacked anew, wasting Murom and towns on the Klyazma. There
was terror again in every place, so that no man knew how to save
himself. Then envoys from Batu came to Yaroslav, demanding his presence
with the tribute of Vladimir. Yaroslav, doing all things demanded, went
to the Horde with Constantine, his son, and some boyars, taking with
him the tribute. Batu received his declaration of obedience with
courtesy and commanded that he call himself Prince of Kief. “Be the
head of all,” said Batu, and Constantine Batu sent to bow down before
the Grand Khan in Mongolia.
Constantine spent more than a year and a half on his journey. After
Yaroslav had submitted to Batu, the other princes followed his example.
The Khan confirmed those subordinates and the Mongol yoke was
established, with all its burdens increasing in weight as each year
came.
The tribute was not appointed at first with precision, but the Khan
declared that he would send men to arrange all things, and describe the
Russian land. It would be evident then what the income would be for
each principality.
When in 1245 Constantine returned from Mongolia, where he had found
favor with the Grand Khan, Batu summoned Yaroslav a second time.
Ogotai, the Grand Khan, was now dead, and in his place Kuyuk, a son of
Ogotai, was reigning. To his enthronement went many vassals, all
subject rulers, also Khans, relatives of Jinghis. Batu sent his
brothers to this assembly, but did not go himself. Being sovereign in
the Horde, one part of which was found in Asia, while the other
extended deeply into Europe, he thought himself next to Jinghis, even
when that mighty conqueror was living, and now, after the death of
Ogotai, he felt nearer to the Grand Khan than ever. To increase the
splendor of the festival, he sent his vassals to represent him,
selecting from all those who ruled under him only the great ones. Hence
he commanded Prince Yaroslav to visit Mongolia.
Yaroslav, crushed more by misfortune than by his fifty-five years,
found it difficult to endure this long, torturing journey, but he went
without murmuring, understanding well that safety for Russia was to be
purchased only by unconditional obedience to the will of the conqueror.
Beyond the Caspian were monotonous sand plains. In reaching Central
Asia he had to cross stretches of dry and parched land, waterless
regions without inhabitants, where many of his men died while
struggling with drought and great spaces. In the Kwarezmian kingdom
they met ruins of cities; plains covered with skulls, bones and
skeletons, monuments of Jinghis Khan’s terrible slaughters. On these
endless expanses, Yaroslav met legions of many tongued people, all of
whom, in common with Russians, were under the Mongol yoke. Beyond
Kwarezm stretched boundless deserts and steppes. Again new trials and a
road unspeakably difficult and exhausting, along which were still other
traces of Jinghis Khan’s triumphs. And again and again Yaroslav was met
by the ever present conquerors, commanding subject tribes.
But all that he suffered on the road seemed as nothing compared with
what he had to see and endure at the Mongol capital. Kuyuk had
assembled all subject sovereigns, so that of rulers and the highest
persons near them four thousand were present. The gifts which those
persons brought with them formed whole camps filled with treasure. Of
silver and gold alone there were five hundred wagon-loads. During the
time of festivities, Yaroslav was not merely a witness of feasts, he
took part in them. Among guests they gave him the first place, and
distinguished him by a goblet of honor. But that special “honor” shown
Yaroslav was of the kind given when a victor honors the chief among
many captives, and from this honor he died somewhat later.
At the end of the festivities, when Yaroslav had taken farewell of his
hosts and was on the eve of departure, he died suddenly. Considering
the place, no one thought his death natural. Each man of the Horde knew
well from observation that whoever came there depended on fate for
salvation. There were so many Khans and Khan’s wives and they had so
many relatives that it was hard to please all, nay, impossible. No man
could answer this question: “Have I succeeded?” No man could discover
the springs through which decisions were made and brought to
fulfilment.
It was noised about in the Horde that Yaroslav had been poisoned. Some
thought that the Mongols did not like his strong influence at home, and
would not let him go back to Vladimir; others said that his own
relatives had calumniated the Grand Prince to Batu, and Batu had
written about him to Kuyuk, that stern-faced and marvelous Mongol, of
whom it was said by his intimates that no man had ever seen a smile on
his face, or heard a jest from his lips. This Grand Khan had been
gracious to Yaroslav, but it was whispered most cautiously that Kuyuk’s
mother, Turákina, had given Yaroslav a cup of honor with her own hands
at parting, and poisoned him. His faithful boyars brought back his body
and buried it at the side of his brother, and of Big Nest, his father.
Yaroslav was not distinguished for civil, or military exploits. He was
not renowned for one of the great deeds in history, but his name became
memorable and is honored to this day in Russia. In him men saw the
first prince who, insulted by pagans, bowed with humility before a
Heaven-sent misfortune, and who did not fall into despair through empty
pride, or through personal haughtiness. They saw in him not a
conquering prince, but a man who with suffering and grief bowed down
and beat the earth with his forehead before the savage Mongol, in order
to save Russian people. His image was fixed in the national mind as the
image of one who had suffered for Russia, as a prince whose lot it was
not to magnify himself, but to endure insults for the sake of those
under him. In the popular mind, he was the first of those men who
humbled themselves to save others.
At that time all Russians looked on Mongol subjection as a terrible
misfortune, as something that could not be avoided in any way. It
seemed at first to be the fate of the country. Nothing bright or
gladsome could be seen ahead for ages, no light of salvation, even in
the distance. Captivity, the yoke, the Mongols, such was the cruel
period which began when Yaroslav had reached advanced manhood. In
addition, they gave this as praise to him, that he had inspired in his
children, especially in Alexander, the same kind of fortitude in
suffering, and had left as a testament to that son to seek salvation
for the people through devotion. This thankful memory of the prince,
who had given the first notable example of humility and firmness in
misfortune, lived in his descendants for generations.
When the great-grandsons of Yaroslav had lived at last to the hope that
God would free the Russians, they honored more than their fathers had
the memory of their great-grandfather, the sufferer who had died in
Mongolia, who had in his day, with much weariness, warded off ruin from
Russia.
In the terrible time of Russia’s captivity under Batu, Yaroslav’s son,
Alexander, the favorite son of Feodosia, daughter of Mystislav the
Gallant, appeared next as the savior of Russia. He had before his
father’s death become celebrated for discretion, for magnificent valor,
for victories and for kindness even to enemies. He was unbending and
severe only to crime and disobedience. One of the most noted knights of
the West, who was sent by the Livonian Order to confer with Alexander,
said on his return: “I have traveled many lands, and seen many
sovereigns, but such a man I have not met thus far.” Batu in his old
age at the Golden Horde, said, after he had received Alexander Nevski:
“The truth has been told me; there is not another prince like
Alexander.”
Nevski was never defeated in battle, and never made any man his enemy.
But this was the wonderful trait in him; neither among princes nor
other men was any his equal in humility. The Mongol yoke was a terrible
test of submissiveness and endurance. When the Mongols had strengthened
themselves, and had become firmly established, the yoke became the more
difficult to carry. The people believed that it had been inflicted by
Providence, and looked on it as a punishment for the injustice of many
generations, but no man understood this belief of theirs so well, and
felt the consciousness of Russia, as did Alexander Nevski. The younger
princes were too inexperienced, too proud to comprehend the position,
and bend to it. The strongest of these, Daniel of Galitch, blushed for
shame at being tributary to the Mongols, and instead of meeting them
with humility, took measures which were useless and vain, measures
which ended in nothing. Alexander’s career as a prince began in his
childhood. In 1228 he was first made prince in Novgorod at eight years
of age, when his father was disputing with Michael of Chernigoff. Later
on he was prince in Novgorod a second time, when his father returned to
the ruins of Vladimir. By being in Novgorod, Alexander was undoubtedly
saved from the sword of the Mongol.
In 1238, when eighteen years old, Alexander married a Polovtsi
princess. From the wedding feast he was forced to go to the banks of
the Sheloni, where there were many and bloody attacks of the Chuds,
urged on by the Germans of Riga, and led by them, aided also by
Lithuanians at the direct and indirect instance of the Knights of
Livonia. These attacks became more and more threatening, and at last
were insufferable. Alexander defeated those invaders, but at this time
new enemies showed themselves,—the Swedes, who strove to rouse the more
eastern tributaries of Novgorod, and to fix their power in the Chud
regions, where St. Petersburg now stands.
The Mongol yoke, in addition to other evils, roused all the enemies of
Russia to greater activity. The Livonian Knights put aside every
ceremony, and their haughtiness went beyond bounds. They seized for all
time, as they thought, the lands named by them Esthonia, and threatened
to take Pskoff and even Novgorod. The Pope demanded from Waldemar of
Denmark, the destroyer of Wends, and from the Swedes, too, a campaign
against the “faithless Ruthenians.” He demanded the subjection of
Russian lands bordering on Sweden, so that all might be brought to the
one true religion.
In 1240, when the Mongols were marching on Kief, Swedish ships entered
the Neva and closed the old Russian way to the Baltic. The Chud tribe,
Ijora, long subject to Novgorod, was defenseless; the Swedes claimed
the whole country. The Swedish king’s son-in-law, Birger, sent this
message to Alexander: “If thou hast courage, come hither; I have taken
thy land and am occupying it.”
Novgorod lands were now in great peril and a cry of discouragement rose
throughout the city. Novgorod regiments were summoned immediately, and
the city sent to Yaroslav of Vladimir for assistance. But Alexander
would not wait for reinforcements; he was satisfied with the moderate
forces of Novgorod, and was ready to set out at once. After mass in
Holy Sophia, the bishop went to the square with Alexander and blessed
him for action. Then the prince said to all, in the words uttered on
that same square by Mystislav, his grandfather: “God is not with might,
but with justice.”
The Ijoras greatly feared Swedish supremacy; this fear gave them
strength in the encounter, and the Swedes, though they outnumbered
Alexander’s men, were defeated decisively. Alexander himself did not
leave the battle-field all that day of July 15, 1240. He was in the
most dangerous places, guiding every movement of the army, and left the
mark of his own weapon on Birger’s face. Night saved a remnant of the
Swedes, who sailed away in the darkness. So the fame of Alexander
sprang up in that dreary time of Mongol captivity, in that day of
general suffering and helplessness, and his countrymen of the South and
East, crushed in spirit and on the verge of despair, found some
consolation in the fact that their brethren of the North had been led
to victory by their prince, who alone had success in that time of
trial. After this battle the people surnamed him Nevski (of the Neva)
in reward for his bravery and this great victory, the anniversary of
which was for three centuries celebrated throughout Russia with solemn
memorial services.
But if the Swedes were forced to give peace for a time, the Germans of
Riga had no wish to respect the boundaries of Novgorod. The Livonian
Knights acted as pleased them along the Pskoff borders, and roused
subject tribes against Novgorod whenever they found it possible. Soon
after the battle with the Swedes, Nevski, as now we may call him, could
not agree longer with Novgorod, hence he retired to Pereyaslavl with
his wife, his mother, and attendants. The complaints made by Novgorod
were those made against all Vladimir princes, namely: “They wish to
connect Novgorod lands with their own, and that is impossible. What has
gone to the Vladimir prince is his, and what is of Novgorod belongs to
Novgorod. In Volok and Torjok, for example, the princes were to
maintain one half the tax-collectors; one half were to be appointed by
them, and one half by Novgorod, but they manage all the work with their
own half. The princes entice Novgorod men in numbers to go to Vladimir,
and in Novgorod places they settle Vladimir men. Besides, they acquire
villages by purchase and by gifts, and in exchange they take in their
own names, and in the names of their princesses, villages belonging to
Novgorod. They permit their followers from Vladimir, and their other
favorites to act in the same way. Places in Novgorod which have been
assigned to the princes are managed by Vladimir men, and not men of
Novgorod. Such things must not be!”
Another part of those complaints was regarding meadows given up for the
personal use of the princes, their hunting and fishing grounds, and bee
places. It was also asserted that the prince built his own towns on
Novgorod land; that he governed, judged and managed Novgorod without
considering the posadnik; that he took places from Novgorod men and
gave them to outsiders without consulting the posadnik. In view of all
these accusations and quarrels, Nevski refused to govern, and left the
city.
The Livonian Knights had seized Pskoff, where that most disorderly son
of a disorderly father, Yaroslav, son of Vladimir and nephew of
Mystislav the Gallant, was active. He had been taken prisoner once and
sent captive to Pereyaslavl, but was freed somewhat later. With him
were associated certain Novgorod traitors, who were in Pskoff, and
these men now, for the second time, went over to the Germans of Riga.
By the help of such traitors, the Livonian Knights not only got
possession of Izborsk and Yurieff, but of Pskoff also, and those
deserters were rewarded by being made posadniks and managers. Now the
Germans demanded children as hostages from the loyal Russians of
Pskoff, from fathers of families, and those children were taken to
Riga. When they were, as they thought, firmly settled in Pskoff, the
knights roused those Chud tribes which they controlled and broke into
Novgorod regions. Already they had conquered the two tribes connected
with Novgorod, and had erected a fortress, Koporia, at Lake Ladoga.
Novgorod men turned, with a prayer for assistance, to Yaroslav of
Vladimir, asking him to send his son Alexander to them. But Nevski
refused with decision, so Yaroslav sent Andrei, a younger son. To
others enemies were now added Lithuanians, who ravaged in various
directions south of Novgorod, while the Germans with their Chud
subjects came within thirty versts of the city. They seized all the
cattle and horses, so that earth-tillers had no animals to work with.
The Novgorod men sent to Yaroslav a second time, saying: “Give thy son
Alexander, we pray thee.”
Their prayer was heard. Nevski arrived, and all was changed quickly. A
good army was assembled at once. Men of Ladoga, Karelia, and Ijora went
under his banners with gladness. Alexander razed the fortress of
Koporia to its lowest foundation, and defeated the Germans; some he
sent as prisoners to Novgorod, others he set at liberty. Strict and
stern judgment reached only those Chuds who had gone over to the enemy.
Spies and men who had given information to the Germans he hanged as a
lesson to the others.
Many persons came then from Pskoff with accounts of the terrible
disorder reigning there. They begged Nevski to free them, not only from
Germans, but also from traitorous Russians. The Germans dissembled no
longer. What they had taken, they said, was now sacredly theirs, and
they would never give up what belonged to them.
In 1241 Nevski occupied all approaches to Pskoff, and then captured the
city itself. The neighboring Chuds, who had deserted to the Germans, he
pacified strictly. He took possession of their country and burned it.
Some of the people he cut down where he met them; others he took
captive. Those Russian friends of the Germans, who were posadniks in
various places, he put in chains and sent to Novgorod for imprisonment.
The worst among spies and informers were put to death. The worthless,
treacherous Prince Yaroslav, who was related to Nevski by his mother,
humiliated himself and left the enemy, and Alexander sent him to Torjok
to fight against Lithuanians.
Thus Pskoff was freed from the Germans, and from traitors. The Livonian
Knights would not acknowledge this position and war with them became
unavoidable. These knights of the Sword boasted that with one blow they
would end every Russian success; they would not let the Slav language
dominate the German; Nevski would be taken alive to serve as a
spectacle. It was said that the Bishop of Riga himself would appear
with his warriors, and from Wenden and Fellin all the forces of the
Order were coming; that the Danish king was sending assistance.
Nevski, not wishing a siege in the city, marched out of Pskoff to meet
the assailants. A small detachment of Pskoff men sent forward to forage
met such defeat that it brought all to terror. Their voevoda and others
were slain, many people were captured; a mere handful came back with
the tidings that the enemy was near in great strength. Nevski turned
then to the Chud lake, to that spot known as Voroni Kamen (Raven
Stone), and fixed his camp near the cliff there. It was at the end of
March, but winter in that northern country was still in full vigor. The
Pskoff lake had strong ice on it and the whole region about was still
snow-covered. The Germans came with a large force. The whole power of
the Order was present, and they brought all their subject tribes with
them. The two armies met on the Pskoff lake. But this time the Russians
were not few in number: new regiments had come. Yaroslav had not left
his son unassisted; Novgorod troops had been sent under Andrei, his
brother, and reinforced by these warriors, Alexander was strong, and
all were rejoiced to be under him. Courage was great among Nevski’s
men. “We are ready to die for thee. The day has come to give our lives
for the cause!” said his warriors in one outburst. Alexander had the
gift of inspiring his men with confidence both in him and in their own
ability to meet the enemy successfully. Before the battle he prayed:
“Judge, O God, and give sentence between us and our haughty opponents.
O, give us not to suffer from the noisy tongue.” And he made the sign
of the cross. A like prayer was on the lips of all his warriors.
This renowned battle began on Sunday, April 5, at daybreak. From the
vigor of the struggle and the multitude fighting on both sides it was
called a slaughter, and from the place where it was fought on the lake
it was called “the Ice Slaughter.” “The conflict was stubborn and very
venomous,” says the chronicler. “The rattle from the breaking of
lances, and the clashing of swords was as if a frozen sea had broken
its ice and was fighting furiously with the pieces.” The Germans rushed
into the battle confident of victory and proud of their skill. They
advanced boldly with their wedge, which the Russians called in derision
“a pig snout,” or simply “a pig.” Pressing heavily on, they succeeded
in breaking through one of the regiments, but Nevski struck the side of
this wedge, bending the rear of it, and the ranks were thrown into
confusion; they had no place of refuge; they were driven seven versts
and utterly defeated.
More than four hundred famous knights fell in this battle; fifty more
were made prisoners, and most of the Chuds were either slain or taken
captive. The Master of the Order fled with a poor remnant of his
forces, and, trembling for Livonia and Riga, sent messages to Denmark
immediately, imploring the king to rescue the Holy Virgin of Riga from
the “faithless Ruthenians.”
All Pskoff went forth with images, crosses, and banners, to meet
Nevski. After this great victory Alexander returned to Novgorod, where
envoys from the Order soon appeared with homage, and spoke thus in the
name of the Germans: “We yield Pskoff and other towns which we have
taken with the sword. Prisoners we will exchange for our men whom you
have captured.” Peace was concluded on these terms.
As Livonia and Sweden belonged to the Latin religion, Nevski’s fame was
heard throughout Western Europe. In Rome at this period they had not
for a moment lost sight of one of Russia’s strong men, Daniel of
Galitch, and now they turned sharp attention to Alexander Nevski.
Lithuanian raids not only did not cease after Nevski had sent the
worthless Yaroslav to Torjok, but that prince himself came near being
captured, while trying to repulse them. The Tver men joined this prince
at Torjok, and suffered a dreadful reverse there. The Lithuanian bands
killed a multitude of men, took herds of horses, and, with animals and
prisoners, hurried homeward. Pursued to Toropets, they seized that
place, and, entering it with all their booty, thought themselves safe
behind strong defenses. But Nevski hurried from Novgorod, took
Toropets, seized the prisoners, saved the booty, and killed or captured
all the Lithuanians. Some he slew while attacking the city; others
while they were fleeing. He destroyed eight bands of those invaders,
then he dismissed the Novgorod men and with his own following set out
for Vitebsk, where his little son Vassili lived with relatives of his
mother. On the way he came upon many bands of Lithuanians, which he
exterminated. Taking the boy from Vitebsk, he turned toward Novgorod.
On the road to that city he met new bands and crushed them. Seven times
did he crush Lithuanians. After that they feared Nevski and dared not
annoy him.
Alexander, now famous in many countries and nations, had not as yet
been troubled by Batu, who considered him a subject. In this way he had
an exceptional position among all the princes, though he did not hold
himself free, and grieved greatly over the sorrow and suffering of
Yaroslav, his father. Still, as a prince of Great Novgorod, where his
palace was near the cross-covered dome of Sophia, he, with the Novgorod
people, could still say: “We have not been conquered by Mongols.”
At the Horde they were satisfied for the time with Yaroslav’s
obedience, and made no demand on Nevski. But they were waiting for the
moment in which to summon him with greatest emphasis. Only after
Yaroslav’s death did Batu’s words come to Nevski: “Does Alexander not
know that God has subjected to me many kingdoms and peoples? Will the
Prince of Novgorod be alone in opposing my lordship? If he will
preserve his lands intact and uninjured, let him come hither to look at
my rule in its glory and honor.”
Alexander in every weighty question of conduct sought counsel from
spiritual advisers. At this time in Russia two men named Cyril enjoyed
special confidence. One of these was renowned for his difficult and
peace-bringing labors; he was Cyril, a native of Galitch, and at that
time Metropolitan of Kief and all Russia. The second Cyril was Bishop
of Rostoff, and was then in Vladimir. To this second Cyril Nevski went
for advice touching one point: Should he go to Batu or avoid going? Had
he the strength to endure torments which would be inflicted most surely
if he would not reject Christ the Saviour in case they required him to
do so? He did not trust in his own strength completely. Alexander
opened his mind thus to Cyril. The bishop encouraged him to go, and to
die if the need came, but to avoid death were that possible.
Alexander went to Sarai and met with high favor. His younger brother,
Andrei, had been at the Golden Horde earlier. All then remembered how
firm Russian princes could be on occasions; they had not forgotten
Prince Michael of Chernigoff and the way that he died when his hour
came.
The prompt coming of Alexander pleased the aged Batu, who did not force
him to bow down to the sun or to fire. Moreover, he praised him before
his own favorites. Still Alexander and his brother, Andrei, were
commanded to go and bow down to the Grand Khan in Asia.
The two brothers, with dismal forebodings, set out on the journey which
had caused the death of their father; they were more fortunate,
however, than he, for they returned to their country uninjured. Each
brought with him different impressions. Whether going or coming, Andrei
did not cease to exhibit his hatred of Mongols and his anger at the
general obedience given to that people. “Is it possible that we are to
be forever friendly with pagans, and serve them? Better leave all and
escape to other countries.” So thought Andrei. That this was his mind
was shown by his deeds performed later. Alexander, at every step
through the great destructive land of the Mongols, became sterner and
more and more thoughtful, as if he were beholding the sufferings of his
father as he passed through those same deserts and sand plains.
After an absence of less than two years, Alexander returned, in 1249,
with a face of stern thoughtfulness and an expression which had changed
altogether the youthful appearance of him who had conquered at the Neva
and the Raven Stone.
Where each prince was to reign was a difficult question in Russia at
that time. The will of the Khan, if not the only law, was at least the
supreme law for princes. The old rules were both observed and rejected.
The man who found in those rules his own profit sought to make others
observe them, but if they obstructed his way, he tried to ride over
them. The Khan could appoint whomsoever he pleased to hold any place;
all knew that very clearly, hence enterprising young princes worked
against their seniors. At the Horde appointments were given not
unfrequently through respect for the ancient Russian law, to which
princes appealed in petitions. But if a petitioner was unable to retain
the place given him, the Khan might or might not assist him.
In a word, confusion was common during the early years of Mongol
dominion. Nevski had no direct reason to strive for the throne of
Vladimir. He, like all the sons of Yaroslav, was second to his uncles,
the brothers of his father. Sviatoslav, the eldest of these, to whom
Yaroslav had given Suzdal, was confirmed by Batu as Prince of Vladimir.
But, as if to prove that in this gloomy time every right was
confounded, Sviatoslav had barely assumed power when there appeared
among his nephews an unprincipled, ambitious prince who dispossessed
his uncle of the throne and seated himself there immediately. That was
Prince Michael, Nevski’s youngest brother. For his boldness they called
him “Plucky Michael.” But his rule was short, for he was soon killed in
battle by Lithuanians. Being the youngest of Yaroslav’s sons, Michael
had not received a large portion,—he got only Moscow. While guarding
this little province he met Lithuanians near the Kaluga, frontier on
the Potva; from that small river his corpse was brought back and buried
in Vladimir.
This quarrel between uncle and nephew occurred while Nevski and his
brother Andrei were journeying to Mongolia.
But the death of Prince Michael did not restore rule to Sviatoslav, his
uncle, who, freed from one rival, met another straightway. Nevski would
not oppose his uncle, though he might have done so with some show of
justice, for his father, when Grand Prince, had given Suzdal to
Sviatoslav as an inheritance.
The Vladimir principality came to Nevski as Yaroslav’s eldest son.
Though Sviatoslav had taken Vladimir as against his brother’s children,
and had been confirmed in this by Batu, the “Plucky” had not been slow
in ejecting his uncle. Now, after Michael’s death, Vladimir was
princeless. Nevski did not care, as it seems, for Vladimir at that
time, and would not contend for it. Andrei had a different view of the
question; he would not yield to his uncle, and strove at the Horde to
supplant him. Batu for some reason found it unjust to return the
principality to Sviatoslav; so he gave it to Andrei. But he remembered
that Nevski was older, and Andrei did not deny the fact, hence the Khan
made this decision: let Nevski be Grand Prince of Kief and at the head
of all princes; let Andrei be Prince of Vladimir. Thus, because of the
title given Nevski at the Horde and by his seniority, there were two
so-called Grand Princes in Russia in 1250, but the Prince of Vladimir
was the real Grand Prince, since his was the Grand Principality.
That such a position was impossible became clear very quickly even to
Mongols. But for the time Nevski was silent, and ruled not in Kief, but
in Pereyaslavl, when not in Novgorod. His heart was too heavy and his
soul too greatly tortured to fight about places with his uncle or his
brothers. He would not contend at the Horde with other princes. He had
an important object of his own, though at that time he thought it not
attainable.
To Novgorod, where Alexander lived mainly, came an embassy from Rome
like that which had once gone to Daniel of Galitch. The envoys were two
cardinals of distinction. The Pope informed Nevski that these men were
skilled in speech and fitted to teach the law of God perfectly. They
brought a letter from “His Holiness,” which mentioned the Livonian
Knights and Rome’s ceaseless care in protecting Christian lands from
savage races, and stated that the Pope wished to incline Prince
Alexander to receive the teachings of the Latin Church, and show
obedience to the See held by God’s vicegerent. “The greatest ruler,”
wrote the Pope, “is not lessened, but exalted through obedience. Hence
we persuade thee, O prince, to recognize the Roman Church as thy
mother, obey her first priest, and bring all thy subjects to join us.
Know if thou take advantage of our disposition we will exalt thee among
other princes to the very pinnacle of glory.” To convince him the more,
the Pope assured Nevski that Yaroslav, his father, had died in the
Latin communion. “From Plano Karpini, our envoy sent to the Mongols,”
wrote the Pope, “we received news that thy father gave obedience to the
Church. This would have been known to the world had not sudden death
seized him. In view of that happy death it is clear that he is in
communion with the blessed, a happiness which we wish thee to share
with him finally.”
That Plano Karpini saw Yaroslav in Mongolia is undoubted, for in his
writings he describes the visit to the Grand Prince minutely, and how
he knew him, also Yaroslav’s death, but of this conversion there is not
a syllable.
Nevski received the envoys, but avoided discussion. He informed them
that he would take counsel and give an answer in writing. The Pope was
encouraged by the fall of Byzantium and the rise of Baldwin’s empire,
which forced the Patriarch to Nicea, thus hindering communication
between him and Russia, and also through the conquest of Russia itself
by the Mongols. Hence his hope to win the two most important Russian
princes, Daniel of Galitch, and Alexander Nevski.
Daniel at first roused in the Pope hopes which were not justified
later. Nevski on the contrary gave absolute refusal at the outset, and
thus relieved the Pope from further explanations. He consulted his
spiritual advisers and prepared a written answer stating briefly and
clearly: “We know sacred history; we adhere to the teachings of the
Apostles, and the traditions of the Fathers. We follow the seven
ecumenical councils, but we do not recognize your teaching.”
In his letter the Pope praised Nevski because he had not recognized the
Khan. It is hardly possible that the West knew not of Nevski’s journey
to Mongolia, for the Livonian Knights knew that he had been there, and
whatever they knew Rome knew also. Nevski did not see how peace, power
and glory could come to Russia through papal supremacy, but to hear the
Pope’s statement that the West could not think of Nevski as a subject
of the Mongols must have grieved his spirit. It reminded him, who had
tamed invading Germans at the Raven Stone and elsewhere, that he must
bear the Mongol yoke on his shoulders. The gloomy vision was not
brightened by the fact that he, a Grand Prince of Kief, had no domain
whatever, and that Andrei, his brother, through whimsical rule in
Vladimir, was ruining power where it really existed. In the Horde
itself the friendly Batu was growing senile, and it was evident to all
men who knew the situation that power was slipping from him. But those
eager to rule at the Horde had not yet ventured on action. Sartak,
Batu’s son, was reigning in his father’s name, and though Berkai, his
uncle, was threatening Sartak, even with death, neither the son nor the
brother had real power.
Ulavchi, Batu’s favorite, was the man who managed every affair at the
Horde. Whoever went to Sarai at that period, however much he pleased
Berkai or Sartak, could do nothing, unless first of all he gave
presents to Ulavchi, and came to an agreement with him. Toward the end
of his long life Batu became so feeble that for two or three years
before his death no one heard of him; it was as though he had already
ceased to exist. By some accounts he died in 1255, by others two years
earlier. It was difficult to tell who held power at Sarai during that
period. No matter where one looked, disorder was evident.
In Vladimir, Sviatoslav, the uncle, still struggled with his nephew,
and ceased not his complaints at the Horde. Andrei, that nephew,
continued to boast of his hatred toward Mongols, and to rouse Russians
against them. He did not go regularly with the tribute, and he
decreased the sum each time. He disturbed people’s minds; he not only
roused opposition to tax collectors, but, as if to exhibit his
feelings, he met them contemptuously and annoyed them. He did not
restrain the expression of popular hatred, which was great of itself,
but strove to excite and extend it. At the Horde the baskaks made
complaint of the prince and were bitterly dissatisfied.
Andrei blamed Alexander for inactivity, and persuaded their brother,
Yaroslav, to join him and give an example to their elders that they
were not to be friends or servants of the Mongols. (Yaroslav was Prince
of Tver later on, and from him came the line of Tver princes who fought
so stubbornly with Moscow.)
At Sarai the gloomy disorder of the Horde was increasing, and, with the
utmost humility that a man could exhibit in submitting himself to
demands there, it was impossible to get a just arrangement of affairs
in Russia. No matter how Sviatoslav struggled, Mongols paid no
attention, for he was poor in comparison with others. But his nephew,
Andrei, when he appeared at the Horde with obeisance, scattered gold
before those whom he found there of use to him. Notwithstanding all his
keen hatred of Mongols, he even exchanged hospitality with the most
important ones, that is, with those who “had influence,” and the
complaints raised by tax collectors against Andrei were left
unconsidered.
Thus passed one year of his reign, and the second began, which for him
ended badly. It was reported that they were ready at the Horde to
settle with Andrei severely. A detachment of Mongols, commanded by
Nevruya, was sent to Vladimir, and the meaning of such a military
promenade was well known to all Russians. The following was the Horde
statement concerning the prince: “Andrei has no fear in his heart; he
offends and annoys those men sent from the Horde to him. The Khan has
commanded to punish him. What has been done with the gold and silver
which Andrei has collected? Everything written in his letters and all
that he has quoted is false. Let him feel Mongol anger because of his
insolence. He might have lived in truth and honesty, then no evil would
be done in his country; his people would not suffer. But now let every
harm come. Let his people perish!”
In such straits as this what could Nevski do? He could not defend his
foolish brother. Andrei himself knew well that Alexander could not act
against the Mongols. On hearing of Nevruya’s march, Alexander rushed to
Sartak, at the Horde. Whether he went of his own will or at the call of
the Khan is uncertain. Hitherto he had avoided visits, no matter what
honor might come from them, but this time his decision was quick and
effective. The Khan, in his anger, had sent a detachment of Mongols to
Vladimir. What could he do to allay that anger? Of course he could tell
the whole truth to the Khan without concealment, but it would injure
Andrei. He could excuse Andrei only by laying the blame on his youth
and his lack of good sense. This he did, and succeeded.
Soon after his return an event occurred which sent him again to the
Horde. Sviatoslav, his uncle, fell ill, and died somewhat later. While
alive this uncle was senior and demanded the Vladimir principality.
Alexander would not act against Sviatoslav. Michael had seized the
crown from his uncle; Andrei held it not through his right or by force,
he held it through the Khan’s pleasure. But a clear road to the throne
was now open to Nevski. A younger brother should not be preferred to an
elder. By his foolish conduct Andrei had incurred the Khan’s anger, and
with it great suffering for the country. Alexander could remain silent
no longer. He begged the Khan to recognize him as Grand Prince and
guaranteed peace in Vladimir.
They saw at the Horde that his right was undoubted. Still they wished
at the same time to punish and give a sharp lesson to all who might
need it. The command had been given; the Mongols had already set out on
their “promenade.” Alexander remained with Sartak, who was then ruling.
He preferred to intercede from time to time in so far as was possible,
and not to witness the bloodshed and suffering in his birthplace.
Nevruya sent his commanders, Kotya and Olabuh, with a legion of
warriors to plunder Suzdal. Andrei complained of the indifference of
other princes, some of whom he said served the Mongols against their
own brothers, and others were like Sviatoslav, his uncle, who on a time
summoned eaters of raw flesh to help him against his own people. “O
Lord!” exclaimed he, “how long must we fight with each other and bring
in Mongols?”
Nevruya reached the walls of Vladimir, but Andrei and Yaroslav had left
the city before his arrival. The Mongols overtook them in Pereyaslavl,
where Andrei gave battle, preferring to fight in Alexander’s territory
rather than in his own. The battle was stubborn, but it was won by the
Mongols. Andrei fled to Novgorod, and thence to Pskoff, but through
fear of the Mongols neither city would admit him. Then he went farther,
either beyond the Baltic or to Riga, taking with him his princess, the
daughter of Daniel of Galitch.
Yaroslav, after this vain attempt to assist Andrei, saved himself by
fleeing first to Ladoga and thence to Pskoff, but his wife was killed
and his children were taken into captivity. The Mongols inflicted great
suffering and slaughtered a multitude of people. Those who were able to
escape fled, and, scattering through forests, lived among wild beasts,
as men had lived during Batu’s invasion. Nevruya withdrew after that,
and Alexander returned from the Horde to Vladimir, where his first work
was to collect the people, and resettle ruined places.