BATTLE OF KULIKOVO
Michael, deserted by Olgerd, made peace with Dmitri but only to go to
the Horde, which he visited January, 1371. Judging by what he
accomplished, he was received well by Mamai, who ruled the Horde then
through his creature, Khan Mamant Sultan. Michael got not only a patent
for the Grand Principality, but an offer of troops against Dmitri “the
rebel,” for such was Dmitri in the eyes of Mamai, at least officially.
Michael refused the troops, and only took Sari Hodja, the envoy. The
good-will of Mamai and the new Khan cost Michael much treasure, for
besides what he carried to Sarai, he was forced to a debt of ten
thousand grievens, an immense sum for that time, and as surety he
engaged to send his son, Ivan, to Mamai.
Moscow had agents at the Horde always, and from these men Dmitri knew
the situation even before Michael had turned his face homeward. Agents
were sent to each city to bring all to oath that they would not accept
Michael, and would not permit him to be Prince of Vladimir. All people
were on the side of Dmitri, and he and his cousin, at the head of a
large army, at once moved against Pereyaslavl.
When Michael arrived and announced his appointment, the Vladimir men
would not receive him. They sent word to him that they did not believe
he had a patent, and he was forced to retreat. Sari Hodja, Michael’s
Mongol friend, summoned Dmitri to Vladimir to hear the Khan’s patent
read. “I will not go to the reading,” replied Dmitri. “I will not let
any one enter Vladimir, and to thee, O envoy, thy way is open.” But the
boyars who carried this answer were to give Sari Hodja gifts of honor,
and in private invite him to make Moscow happy with his presence.
Sari Hodja, who had received rich gifts from Prince Michael, hesitated.
He expressed great reverence for the Tver prince, and conducted him to
the Mologa, where he delivered the Khan’s patent. He spoke long of his
unfailing devotion, then took farewell. After that Sari Hodja went
straightway to Moscow, where they gave him more gifts than he had ever
dreamed possible. He marveled at the beauty and excellence of the city,
and praised Dmitri for his winning ways, and his kindness. He
complained, however, that the Grand Prince had not visited the loving
Khan, from whom he guaranteed a good reception. At parting he repeated
that he would never forget Dmitri, and when at the Horde would tell of
his kindness.
It was time indeed for Dmitri to beware of breaking with the Mongols.
More than once sharp reminders had come from Mamai, and even war had
been threatened. Michael, armed with the Khan’s patent, was taking
district after district and installing his agents in every disputed
place. Novgorod men had informed Michael that if he were in truth
appointed instead of Dmitri, they were ready to kiss the cross to him.
Dmitri counseled with his boyars and the metropolitan: “Should he make
war on the Horde; or should he take refuge in phrases?” No matter how
grievous was the latter, his advisers feared to counsel resistance,
hence Dmitri decided that he would go to the Khan and come to terms
with him if possible. When this decision was published, there was deep
discouragement in Moscow. All feared an evil issue, and Dmitri wrote
his will before starting. The metropolitan went with him to the Oká,
and blessed him at parting. Soon after the departure of the Grand
Prince, envoys came from Olgerd to conclude peace with Moscow. Prince
Vladimir and the council of boyars, with the metropolitan at the head
of it, made peace with Lithuania. Then followed the betrothal of
Yelena, Olgerd’s daughter, to Dmitri’s cousin, Vladimir; some months
later the marriage was solemnized. Such favorable news came from the
Horde that there was no evil word for Sari Hodja in Moscow. At Sarai
they rejoiced at Dmitri’s arrival. His grandfather, Kalitá, had been
Uzbek’s friend. Dmitri was a nephew of Simeon the Proud and a son of
Ivan, Simeon’s brother. All those princes had been faithful friends of
the Horde, and had always obeyed it. Dmitri received great honor. The
gifts that he had brought to Mamai, to the Khan and his wives, and to
magnates were such as had not been seen for a long time. Other princes
could not bring as rich gifts at that period. When Dmitri learned that
Ivan, son of Michael, was in pledge at the Horde for ten thousand
grievens, he offered the money immediately, and they answered that he
might take the youth and keep him till all was paid back by his father.
Mamai and Dmitri met face to face and took note of each other. They
examined the lists of tribute, a work which, though tedious, was
finished at last with satisfaction. A patent was given to the Grand
Prince and he returned home; with him went notable envoys, who
conducted Ivan, son of Michael, and delivered him in Moscow as pledge
for his father’s debt.
Dmitri learned later that he had not left the Horde before the
following Mongol message was sent to Michael of Tver: “We gave thee the
Grand Principality, and offered troops to install thee. Thou didst
refuse both our power and our warriors, resolving to sit in the Grand
Principality with thy own force. Ask no aid of us further; but sit
there with the assistance of whomever may please thee.”
So Dmitri returned to Moscow with good results and much honor, having
strengthened his position, and in all questions put his enemies to
shame. He began at once to restore the integrity of Moscow’s
possessions, destroyed in his absence by Michael, who had occupied some
Moscow towns on the border, and ravaged others. After his instalment at
Novgorod, Michael had replaced Dmitri’s agents with his own men, and
Novgorod had given him an oath paper. When Dmitri returned from the
Horde with a new patent and honor, Novgorod broke immediately with
Michael, and joined Moscow.
The next year, 1372, the war became more determined, especially since
Ryazan was on Michael’s side. It was clear that Tver and Ryazan were
leagued against Moscow more unsparingly than ever, and against
Novgorod, which was now aiding Moscow. Olgerd, who had given his
daughter in marriage to Dmitri’s cousin, Vladimir, refrained from
action for a time. But even from the beginning, his restraint seemed
like ridicule, for he sent a number of princes with succor to Michael:
Prince Drutskoi, Andrei, the Polotsk prince, one of his own sons, his
brother, Keistut, and his son, Vitold; who brought with them many Poles
and Lithuanians. Moscow again had to meet, not so much Tver, as Olgerd.
The war with Ryazan was ended in one crushing battle. The daring Oleg
of Ryazan had shown himself hostile to Moscow in the days of Dmitri’s
father, and had claimed, if not all places joined to Kolomna, at least
those included with Lopasnya. When Olgerd invaded Moscow the second
time, Ryazan troops helped Dmitri. A Pronsk prince, however, commanded
them, and those princes defended themselves against the Ryazan prince
through their friendship with Moscow. Oleg now demanded Lopasnya as the
price of his aid against Olgerd, and this caused a break between him
and Dmitri. Dmitri replied that they had not defended Moscow, they had
stood only on their own boundary; that Olgerd had burned and ruined
Moscow. But Dmitri, lest Oleg might complain to the Khan, said he would
discuss with him the question of boundaries. Oleg wished for something
more real than promises, so he took Lopasnya with a strong hand, and
held it,—occupied the region that he wanted.
The hatred between the people under Dmitri and Oleg reached back to the
days of Big Nest, when Moscow was nothing but the Kutchkovo village and
Ryazan men broke in through Lopasnya and plundered it cruelly. But
Moscow had grown enormously since that time. It had become the chief
city, called its ruler Grand Prince of All Russia, and looked upon the
Ryazan men as “raging, arrogant, savage, half-witted people.”
Dmitri had a veteran leader, a man of rare gifts and long practice, a
leader tried in many campaigns, knowing well the tricks of war and the
meaning of every move made by an enemy; besides, he was Dmitri’s chief
confidant, his brother-in-law, married to his sister, Anna. Men usually
called him Prince Volynski, adding the nickname, Bobrok. This Bobrok of
Volynia was now to chasten Oleg, the Ryazan prince.
Oleg, who had assembled an army, marched out against Moscow. The battle
was merciless; one of the most renowned conflicts of that epoch. The
name of the field, Skornistchevo, on which it took place, was made
famous. Oleg fought stubbornly, but notwithstanding his valor and
bravery, he had to flee with a few attendants. Bobrok took Ryazan, and
placed there Vladimir of Pronsk.
Michael of Tver undertook now to harass the heart of the Moscow
possessions. The week after Easter his allies surprised Pereyaslavl,
which they plundered and burned, leaving naught save the fortress
behind them. Next they seized all the neighboring settlements. Keistut
struck this blow with such suddenness that he surprised men at work in
the fields, and on the road going to market or elsewhere, but he could
not capture the fortress. The Tver prince, attacking Dmitroff,
plundered it, and led away multitudes of people. Then the allies turned
on Kashin and ruined it. The Kashin prince hastened to Moscow. The
allies went home, but the Tver prince, on reaching Torjok, seized the
town, and installed his officials. News came now that Olgerd was
approaching, and the place was declared where Michael was to meet him.
Meanwhile Dmitri sent men to Torjok, and from Novgorod came boyars and
others. They expelled Tver officials; those who did not escape they
took captive. They stopped Tver merchants and seized their property.
News that Torjok had gone over to Dmitri, and that Novgorod was on that
side, enraged Michael. He hastened with all his troops to Torjok, to
that “adjunct of Tver,” as he called it. “Yield up those who have
seized my people and robbed them. Put back my lieutenants; I ask
nothing further,” was Michael’s demand, and from daylight he waited
till midday.
In Torjok at that moment were Novgorod men famed as great
warriors,—among them Abakumovitch, notorious for freebooting trips on
the Volga, and elsewhere; but especially renowned for that exploit
which seemed a miracle, and beyond human strength: the courageous and
desperate journey along the Ob River, through all Siberia. With him
were other “daredevils,” and “Novgorod land pirates.” These men would
not yield to the Tver prince. They raised a great shout of defiance,
and gathering their forces, marched out against him.
Abakumovitch fell in the first shock of the encounter. The battle was
merciless, but Michael was the victor. Some fled from the field to save
themselves, others hastened back to the stronghold. Michael’s men fired
the town from that side whence the wind came. The wind was fierce on
that day, and the flames consumed everything. The destruction was
absolute. Some, in trying to save their property, were burned in their
houses or courtyards; others fled to the Church of the Redeemer and
were stifled by smoke, or, rushing out of the fire and the town, were
seized by the enemy; many more were drowned in the river while fleeing.
Michael’s warriors were furious, raging. They stripped women and
maidens, some of whom, from shame, drowned themselves; they stripped
monks and nuns, doing what even pagans had not dreamed of doing. Torjok
had never suffered so greatly, even from Mongols.
The unexpected movement of Moscow troops and of Moscow’s allies toward
Kaluga informed all that Olgerd was coming. This time every measure had
been taken to prevent his drawing near to the capital. Less than two
weeks after Torjok had been ruined the Tver prince was at Lyubutsk,
whither Olgerd was hastening, and where, somewhat later, the two armies
joined forces. Oleg of Ryazan was instructed to march thither also. The
forces of Moscow were marching toward the same place.
On the twelfth of June there was a desperate battle, and Olgerd for the
first time was thoroughly beaten in those regions. He withdrew, or
rather fled, but Dmitri followed on closely. Olgerd halted in a place
intersected with gullies, and strengthened his position on heights well
secured in steep, rocky places. Dmitri halted directly opposite and
entrenched himself. The two forces stood face to face, and remained
many days there, watching each other. Only a wooded ravine, abrupt and
steep, lay between them.
Olgerd, who had planned to surprise his opponents, fell into a trap,
and had at last to ask peace of Dmitri. We have not all the details of
that peace, but enough are preserved to give an idea of the advantage
gained by Moscow. Olgerd was on the verge of destruction, and only
because of that did he accept the peace given. With this peace
hostilities with Tver and Lithuania ended, so far as a treaty could end
them. Lithuania and Tver bound themselves not to invade Moscow lands in
future; and Olgerd was not to take the part of his brother-in-law. All
the places seized by Michael were to be returned, and all the property
restored to the owners. Tver officials must be removed, if not Dmitri
had the right to eject them. Peace with Tver was concluded with a
special agreement by which Michael’s son, Ivan, at that time in Moscow,
would be free when his father paid the debt incurred by Dmitri because
of him.
But barely had Moscow by this victory in the west over Olgerd turned
away every danger on that side, when she was threatened by the Mongols.
Mamai, enraged at the growing success of Dmitri, was the more incensed
by his want of respect for the Mongols. Not only were all princes of
the “Lower Land,” even those of Tver and Ryazan, in subjection to
Moscow, so that Dmitri seemed to be more important than the Khan, and
his commands to be obeyed with more accuracy, but it seems besides that
Dmitri had not paid tribute in recent days. In every case, in treaties
with the princes of that time, this clause was added: “Whether we are
to be at peace or war with the Mongols, to give the Horde tribute, or
refuse it, of that we are to decide in common.”
When Mamai made war on the Grand Prince, he alleged as chief cause
non-payment of tribute. Dmitri, to ward off invasion, gave an
obligation to stop no stipulated payment. Mamai then demanded more than
had been agreed upon. Moreover, the princes of Ryazan and Nizni
regions, and other subordinates of Moscow, treated rudely, and even
insulted the Mongols, and when they had learned to insult they went
further,—they attacked the Khan’s warriors. To inspire obedience in
Dmitri’s chief ally, his father-in-law, Saraiko, a murza, was sent by
the Khan from Sarai to Nizni. But the Nizni prince, who no doubt
consulted with Dmitri, had no fear of the envoy. Seeing that Saraiko
had with him a thousand attendants, the Nizni prince lodged these
Mongols in different places, as if to show honor. Saraiko, though
maintained in luxury, was, as it were, in detention.
The Grand Prince had his well-wishers in Sarai, and paid his friends
there liberally. They lived under various disguises, but were getting
information for Moscow at all times. From them news was brought that
Mamai, who had long threatened Moscow, had decided at last to
accomplish his wishes. But Moscow was ready, and the troops sent by
Mamai to punish the city merely ravaged Ryazan, which, as things stood
at that time, was no injury to Moscow.
All the summer of 1373 Dmitri had his main forces on the bank of the
Oká, and had divisions widely disposed waiting for the Mongols. The
Mongols, on their part, had friends in Moscow and secret spies
everywhere. They had information that Moscow was looking for uninvited
guests, hence they did not cross the Oká.
If 1373, the year following the Tver peace, passed quietly for Moscow,
it was because a strong army stood “on the brink,” and did not let in
the Mongols from Ryazan parts. There was perfect concord in the Grand
Prince’s family. The devotion of his cousin, Vladimir, seemed reflected
in the boyars and officials. The greater number of the boyars had
served Kalitá also. Young men followed old, but the families continued.
For example a descendant of Protasi, a noted boyar in Kalitá’s time,
was commander in Moscow for Dmitri, and his brother, Timofei, was
renowned as a voevoda and counselor. The commander himself, Vassili
Velyaminoff, who died in 1374, left three sons, men as faithful as he
had been, except one, who gave truth to the proverb: “No family without
a deformity.” One of Velyaminoff’s sons had married the sister of
Dmitri’s wife; and the other son, Polyekt, was connected with a
princely house also. One of Dmitri’s sons had married Polyekt’s
daughter.
Ivan Kvashnya, another of the Grand Prince’s intimate boyars,
commanding beyond the Volga, was a son of Rodion Nestorvitch, renowned
under Kalitá. Feodor Svibl was a great-grandson of Akinfi, a Moscow
boyar, who was killed while serving Tver, after leaving the service of
Moscow. Still another, Feodor Kashka, was a son of the noted Andrei
Kobyla, more correctly Kambil (this Andrei Kambil was the ancestor of
the Romanoffs, now reigning in Russia). Dmitri had also many faithful
servants and friends, who had come to Moscow during his own reign.
First among these recent men was Dmitri, the Volynian prince called
Bobrok, who had married Anna, the sister of the Grand Prince. There was
a wonderous zeal in serving Dmitri; only one rebel appeared, the son of
Vassili Velyaminoff, who left three sons: Mikula, Polyekt, and a third
named Ivan.
When the commander died Dmitri did not appoint any one to take the
place left vacant by him. This offended Ivan, who had hoped to receive
the office. Being disappointed, he began an intrigue, or more correctly
a conspiracy. He found no confederate among boyars or the people. A
merchant in silk and Eastern stuffs, a certain Nekomat, became his
associate. Whether he was of Moscow origin, or came from Novgorod, or
what were his habits, no one could declare surely: “Ivan and Nekomat
began work with many lies to the ruin of people,” is what the
chronicler states of them. They went to Tver and roused Michael to
strive again for the patent. They assured the Tver prince that many
people in Moscow would rise to assist him. “We have associates
everywhere,” said they. They persuaded Michael that success at the
Horde was beyond peradventure. Nekomat appeared as a man who knew the
Horde well, and was conversant with every affair among Mongols. Of
course it was not because of what these men could do, or say, that
Mamai upheld Michael. But they undertook to work for the Tver prince at
the Horde because Mamai was enraged at Dmitri. And they met with
success.
Not only was Michael appointed Grand Prince again, but Mamai engaged to
send an army; Michael this time had begged for Mongol warriors. Atchi
Hodja, the envoy, brought the Khan’s patent, but he did not bring the
warriors. Thereupon Michael turned to Olgerd for aid, and, while
waiting for men from the Horde and Lithuania, broke the peace with
Moscow. He sent envoys to renounce the oath given Dmitri.
The Grand Prince was not slow in his answer; he summoned his allies and
commanded them all to hasten. Then, collecting his forces, he marched
toward Volok, whither his subordinates and allies were hurrying. They
assembled quickly and in formidable numbers. Their rage against Michael
was boundless. “How many times has he brought Olgerd against us; how
much harm has he done, and how often? Now he is on the Khan’s side, and
assisting him. If we let Michael go further, the Mongols will destroy
us.” And from Volok they marched directly against Tver. Michael shut
himself in for a siege there, and strengthened his chief city quickly.
The besiegers, to reach the place, built two bridges over the Volga.
The Novgorod men, remembering Michael’s recent offense, and how Torjok
had been ruined, hastened to Dmitri’s assistance. Tver men fought with
desperate valor, quenching fires and repairing breaches. While the
siege was progressing, Staretsa Zubtsoff and other towns fell to
Moscow, which, with its allies, seized every place on the march, and
took captives. They destroyed or mastered all things.
No matter how great might be Michael’s resistance, he was vanquished.
He could have no hope of Mongol aid, or of aid from Olgerd. The
Lithuanians did come, but when they drew near they hesitated, then
turned and marched home. From the Horde was heard no word of any kind;
famine touched Tver decisively. Michael, overpowered at all points, was
forced to depute the Tver bishop and the oldest boyars to ask peace of
the Grand Prince.
Dmitri gave a stern peace, but a just one. He deprived Michael forever
of the claim to rival Moscow, and subjected him to Moscow primacy. He
permitted him to style himself, and to be within certain limits Grand
Prince in Tver regions; but it was established that Kashin must be
independent of Michael. Every clause was defined very strictly, and in
case of dispute Dmitri agreed to let Oleg of Ryazan act as arbiter. No
man could think of Oleg as partial to Moscow. Further Michael was not
to seek Moscow, or the Grand Principality, or Novgorod for himself, or
his children, or any of his family, and was not to accept the Grand
Principality of Vladimir from the Mongols.
On his part Dmitri was not to take Tver under any circumstances. The
following article is noteworthy: “Whether we are to be at peace with
the Horde, or to give tribute will be decided in council together. If
the Mongols attack any prince, we are all to resist. Should the Grand
Prince of Moscow move on the Horde, the Tver prince must go with him.”
Michael abjured all alliance with Olgerd, his brothers, and his family.
Further he bound himself to fight against Lithuania, should it attack
Moscow, or any Moscow ally. Boyars and free men might pass from one
prince to the other, rights were considered as equal on both sides in
this regard; two men were excluded, however, Ivan and Nekomat; their
property was forfeited, and they themselves declared traitors.
Thus ended that bloody war of 1375 between Tver and Moscow, and there
was quiet for a time. But even now Michael did not yield in his heart;
he still hoped to triumph over Dmitri. He did not relinquish his
alliance with Olgerd. On the contrary, he worked hard to strengthen it.
That very year his son, Ivan, pledged lately for the Horde debt,
married Olgerd’s niece, Keistut’s daughter. Lithuania waged war on
Smolensk for co-operation with Moscow. Olgerd’s forces burned,
plundered, and led captive. “Why did ye help ruin Tver?” asked they, as
they taunted their victims. The Lithuanian friendship brought less
fruit, however, than Michael had hoped from it.
One year and six months later, 1377, Olgerd died, and then began grave
and protracted disorders. Yagello killed Keistut, his uncle, and
married Yedviga of Poland, thus causing new and great complications.
No sooner had the storm on the west apparently subsided, than another
storm moved from the east against Moscow.
The Mongols attacked Nizni-Novgorod and ravaged it unsparingly, thus
striking the Grand Prince through his allies, the chief one of whom was
his father-in-law. “Why did ye help Moscow, and march against Tver?”
asked they, as they plundered Nizni. Farther south they declared: “We
do thus because ye fought against the Tver prince.”
Nizni men rose now to take revenge; they killed Saraiko, the envoy, and
his thousand attendants. This happened while Dmitri of Nizni was absent
and his son was ruling for a short time. The old prince, fearing a
Mongol attack on his city, had commanded to hold Saraiko’s men apart
from him. When Vassili, the prince’s son, obeyed these instructions,
Saraiko became alarmed, and fled to the episcopal palace with a few of
his attendants. This flight seemed an attack to some people, and they
rose to protect the bishop. Mongols, in self-defense, used arrows, one
of which, without wounding the bishop, stuck fast in his mantle. This
roused a whole multitude, who rushed to clear the palace of Mongols. A
struggle began which extended till Saraiko had fallen, with all of his
attendants. “The pagan thought,” said the people, “to do what he
wanted, but he and all of his men with him have perished.” After this
December, 1375, and January, 1376, the territories of Nizni in all of
their extent, from the east to the Sura, and south to the Piana, were
doomed to fire and the sword without mercy.
Dmitri of Moscow went beyond the Oká with an army to guard against
Mongol forces, which, as he heard, were advancing. The Grand Prince, in
defending the lands of his father-in-law, found it needful to fill the
Trans-Sura with a great dread of Russia. He sent strong detachments
under Bobrok of Volynia, with Ivan and Vassili, two sons of the Nizni
prince. They marched to the present Kazan, and their victory was
signal. Kazan rendered homage to the Grand Prince’s leader by giving
him two thousand rubles, in the money of their period, and three
thousand rubles to the army. Kazan received a Moscow official and
engaged to pay tribute. The Khan counted those lands as his own beyond
question, hence this victory increased Mamai’s rage very greatly.
In 1377 news came from beyond the Sura that a new Mongol prince,
Arabshah, had appeared there and fixed his camp at a place called
Volchi Vodi (Wolf Water), but that place, as it seemed, was not enough;
he was extending his power in many directions. The terror of his name
touched Kazan, and the Volga, and alarmed Nizni also. The Nizni prince
begged aid of Moscow a second time. The affair seemed so serious that
Dmitri himself went with his forces. As there were no tidings of the
new conqueror, Dmitri, after waiting a fortnight, returned to his
capital; he left, however, a part of his forces composed of men from
Vladimir and Murom.
Soon reports came of Arabshah and his army. People said that he was
near, but no one knew in what spot he was lurking. Scouts made
fruitless efforts to find him. At last the Nizni prince sent forward
his son, Ivan, with a Novgorod force, and sent also the Moscow
commanders with the regiments left by Dmitri. They were to cross the
Piana, and guard the lands south of it. Finding themselves in a
primitive region, called by the Russians in those days “The Wild
Fields,” these warriors had no fear of natives; they thought only to
amuse themselves. There were but a few villages, and those few were in
secluded places; a person might pass very near and not see them. The
country was one of forests and grass; it was well-watered, abounding in
game, and in honey. Prince Ivan and his men found life there agreeable.
They went hunting, and moved about everywhere, thoughtless of peril,
taking no precautions whatever.
Soon news came that Arabshah was approaching. Still there was no trace
of him anywhere. The wily natives were hiding Mamai’s forces, which
were lurking very near the Nizni army. They had been led in unobserved,
and had surrounded the Russians completely. On August 2, 1377, they
destroyed Ivan’s men,—it may be said, without fighting. The Mongols,
arranged in five divisions, struck at once from five sides, and only
when attacked and facing death did the men of that camp gain their
senses. They grasped for their shields, swords and lances. No one had
weapons at hand; some were in cases, others in wagons; some warriors
were half dressed. The slaughter was thorough. The Mongols had only to
strike, thrust, and hew down their victims. Prince Ivan sprang into the
river on horseback, and was drowned there. Thousands of common men, and
many officers, perished.
Three days later the triumphant Mongols were at Nizni. The prince,
having no men to defend the place, fled to Suzdal. Those who had means
to flee saved themselves. Those who had not means were slain, or went
into captivity. The city was burned, and on August 7 the Mongols turned
back, taking with them a multitude of captives. Of Nizni there remained
little but charred ruins.
Prince Dmitri Kirdyapa searched for the body of his brother, which he
at last found, and buried in the single stone church left in Nizni.
Thirty-two churches had been burned.
Reports now came that Arabshah was slaying all who had survived beyond
the Sura, but this was not true.
Arabshah was seeking new fields, and soon fell on Ryazan. Oleg met him
and was terribly defeated. The Ryazan prince came very near being
captured. Wounded and covered with blood, he tore himself free of the
Mongols and escaped. About this time another calamity befell the Nizni
region; it was visited by a robber attack of the “Filthy Mordva,” as
the natives were called by the Russians. The Nizni prince, coming home
at that juncture, set out to punish those “eaters of hedgehogs and
wolves” for their attack, and their perfidy in bringing in Mongols by
stealth to kill Russians. Boris, Ivan’s youngest brother, hunted some
of those robbers into the Piana; the greater part of the others were
slain; very few went back to their haunts beyond the river. But the
people in Moscow were not satisfied with this punishment. They resolved
to seize the elders who had led in the Mongols, and to fill with terror
the whole region lying south of the Piana.
In January, 1378, Dmitri of Moscow sent men to his father-in-law. One
of his best leaders, Svibla, went with them. The Moscow men entered the
land where their friends had been slaughtered, and cut down the
inhabitants. Throughout the winter villages vanished at touch of the
Russians. Some of the elders were slain straightway when captured,
others were taken to Nizni and hunted to death with dogs on the ice of
the Volga.
The Mordva land was considered by the Mongols as not the least among
those lands which belonged to their Khan. The death of its elders for
assisting Horde warriors roused Mamai’s wrath to the utmost, and he
resolved to punish Moscow most famously.
Nizni, which had recovered somewhat from the first Mongol destruction,
was destroyed now a second time. The old prince, who had fled to his
brother Boris at Gorodets, sent word that he would pay a ransom. Every
ransom was rejected. They made the whole province empty, and rushed
home to join the men making ready to punish Dmitri of Moscow.
The Mongol army assembled in vast numbers. It marched under many
princes. The chief leader was one of Mamai’s greatest warriors,
Baigitch, his faithful assistant. Moscow forces were mustered with
promptness. Dmitri at that time was friendly with Oleg, the Ryazan
prince, who agreed to give prompt aid against Mamai. It was only ten
miles beyond Oleg’s chief city that Dmitri met the whole Mongol army
encamped on the Voja. The opponents found themselves face to face with
the river between them. The Mongols were on the left bank, the Russians
on the right, where, unobserved by the enemy, they had found a good
place for battle, and fixed their camp near it.
August 11, 1378, the Mongols, thinking to crush their opponents by
numbers, crossed the Voja. The time was past midday. They had no
thought of fighting immediately, but Dmitri did not give his foe time
to rest, or select a place after crossing. He rushed with all speed to
the struggle. The Pronsk prince attacked one flank, Velyaminoff the
other. Dmitri himself struck the center. The battle, though fierce, was
not long in duration. The Mongols were broken at all points, and before
night the whole bank was strewn with their corpses. The remnant, in
recrossing the river, were drowned in great numbers. The victors could
not hunt the enemy in darkness, and this saved a few of the Khan’s men.
Next morning, though a dense fog covered the country, pursuit was
resumed. The vanquished had cast aside everything; their road was well
marked with weapons, carts, and baggage, but they themselves were far
away. Complete victory came from this battle. Baigitch was left dead on
the field, as were many Horde magnates.
On August 30, 1379, at four o’clock after midday, the first man put to
death publicly in Moscow was beheaded. Ivan, son of Vassili
Velyaminoff, was taken to the Kutchkovo Polye. That great square was
crowded with people, and when the criminal, whose father and whole
family had been loved and honored by the city, was brought forth, tears
stood in the eyes of many, and when the sword glistened and fell, a
groan filled the place. A little more than two years later there was a
similar spectacle on the same spot. Nekomat had been found and he also
was beheaded for high treason.
The battle on the Voja raised Moscow’s position immensely. “God
assisted the Grand Prince; the Mongols turned and fled,” was the
general statement, and was received as a harbinger of freedom from the
Mongols, the dawn of a brighter and better period.
The great worker, the good metropolitan Alexis, died that same year,
six months before the battle. As they stood around his grave, the
people remembered, with tears, all his labors, and their petition was
“Forget us not, in thy prayers, O Alexis, for thy words before God are
effective.” Dmitri stood at the coffin with Vassili, his heir, then six
years of age, and another son of four, with his cousin, Vladimir, and
many other princes. Dmitri, the godson of Alexis, could remember well
how he, a boy of eight years, had met the metropolitan on his return
from the Horde after curing Berdibek’s mother, Taidula, bringing back
her signet-ring, and great honor.
Alexis lived to the age of eighty-five. With his office he had
inherited many difficult tasks from Feognost, who preceded him. There
were many troubles in the Church at that time. Alexis had suffered much
from intrigues at the Byzantine capital, where, through the influence
of Poland, a metropolitan was appointed for Galitch; and another for
Lithuania and Rus through the influence of Olgerd. Both of these laid
claim to authority which belonged to Alexis by right and historically,
hence the struggle was endless, and the final solution seemed
exceedingly difficult, if not absolutely impossible.
But the greatest of all griefs and the worst was that caused by Dmitri,
the Grand Prince. It came about as follows: In the time of Ivan Kalitá,
the church Spas na Ború had been founded, and some years later a
monastery was built near it. This monastery was favored beyond others
by the Grand Prince; not only its abbot, but its monks had high honor.
The people of Moscow esteemed very greatly a deep noble voice in church
service. There was a priest then in Moscow whose voice surpassed all
that men remembered. This priest so pleased the Grand Prince that he
raised him from low degree to such a height that people fell to asking
with curiosity: “Who is this Mityai? Why has he power and importance?”
It proved that Mityai was the son of a priest from Kolomna, who had a
church in Tashilov. This priest had been able to rear his son
carefully, and settle him in Kolomna. Men said of Mityai that he was
skilled in letters, a master at reading and singing, and at quoting
from records. He knew the church service to perfection. He could find a
proverb for any case. In a word he was dexterous in many things. He so
enchanted the Grand Prince that Dmitri made him his confidant, then
seal-keeper, and sometime later his confessor. In this position he
passed many years most successfully.
The Spas na Ború abbot, whom the people named “Drink Not,” because he
not only drank nothing spirituous himself, but would not permit any
monk under him to use liquor, was relieved of his office, and shut
himself up in a cell for meditation and silence. Mityai became a monk,
and then was made abbot in Ioann’s place. This happened when Alexis was
aged and failing, about two years before his last day came. He was not,
perhaps, greatly astonished to see the seal-keeper made abbot, but the
haste in making him a monk had offended the metropolitan deeply.
Notwithstanding all this, and while Mityai was no more than a novice,
Dmitri said, in the presence of Alexis, that the abbot would make a
grand metropolitan.
These were not chance words, which might be recalled upon second
thought; they were said purposely to define the position. The only
reply was silence. After that Dmitri asked the metropolitan to bless
the abbot as his successor. Alexis was unwilling; Dmitri insisted, and
thus it continued for a long time. The metropolitan listened with
mildness, not wishing to offend by refusal, but he did not give the
blessing.
Time passed; the insistence continued. Dmitri did not desist; the
metropolitan, though mild, was unbending. Dmitri’s requests became more
emphatic, more frequent, and finally seemed demands. He beset the
metropolitan, he sent the oldest boyars to ask for the blessing, and
Alexis said at last with vexation, or weariness: “I will consent if
God, His Holy Mother, the Patriarch and an Oecumenical Council will
bless him.” They took his words as consent, and announced that the
metropolitan had named a successor.
As soon as Alexis was dead, Mityai left his position of abbot, and, by
order of Dmitri, took the highest office and performed most of the
duties that pertained to it. The death of Alexis roused great
excitement. Cyprian, then acting in Kief, declared himself Metropolitan
of all Russia. But meanwhile there was a crisis in Tsargrad. The
Patriarch Philotheos, who had ordained Cyprian, was expelled. Makarios,
who succeeded him, did not hold the ordination of Cyprian as binding,
and was quick to seize the situation. He wrote to Moscow immediately,
asking them not to recognize Cyprian, but to send all the papers in
Mityai’s case. He honored Mityai as the first priest of Moscow, and
intrusted the Church to him till he could be installed as chief pastor
in Russia; he also invited him to Tsargrad.
The dislike of the people for Cyprian was changed now to something like
sympathy, though they knew little of his good or bad qualities. They
were offended by the brusque, dictatorial way of the Patriarch at
Tsargrad. The people thought that, inspired by hope of gain, Makarios
was favoring Mityai, and they were deeply angered. At the report that
he had been installed, Mityai became hateful to them. This meant favor
for Cyprian.
During Mityai’s tenure of office, February, 1378, to August, 1379,
there was a new crisis in Tsargrad. Andronicus, the Emperor, was
dethroned, and Makarios, the Patriarch, excluded. The new Patriarch
decided in favor of Mityai, so the exclusion of Makarios was not
harmful to Mityai; it only delayed his affair, since the new Patriarch,
Nilos, was not installed,—he was only appointed. Meanwhile, Mityai
enjoyed every right of his office, save the power to ordain men. The
chronicler states that no one had so much glory and honor in Moscow as
Mityai. At that time he seemed the very model of majesty. Imposing of
stature, lofty and vigorous, with a flowing beard and a beautiful
countenance, of smooth and clear speech, a master of ancient sayings,
and of proverbs from books, from spiritual experience, and from popular
knowledge, he surpassed all men in dignity of mind and body. No man in
his office had dressed in such taste, and so imposingly.
The Grand Prince was delighted; he was flattered by the success of his
favorite and adviser. But by common men and the clergy, Mityai was
detested; none desired him. Bishops, abbots and monks were imploring
Heaven not to let Mityai become metropolitan. Mityai relied on the
Grand Prince, and cared not a whit for his enemies. All the more were
people opposed to him that he was haughty, stern and harsh to
subordinates; he judged them himself, by his own power, and punished
severely.
News was received now that Cyprian was approaching Moscow with a train
of attendants and servants requiring forty-six horses. Measures were
taken at once not to admit him. Couriers with letters addressed to him
were seized; sentries were stationed in needed places to stop him, and,
as Cyprian neared Moscow, he was arrested. The boyars sent to capture
him took all his property, covered him with ridicule and curses, and
confined him, without food, in a damp, loathsome chamber. Envoys from
the Patriarch, traveling with Cyprian, were insulted. They, with their
Patriarch and Emperor, were called “Lithuanians.” What the servants of
Cyprian had was taken from them; they were seated on their horses
without saddles, and the horses were lashed away from the city. The
next day at nightfall, after Cyprian had been twenty-four hours without
food, and in confinement, he was conducted from Moscow by the boyars
who had seized him. Stopping at no great distance from the city,
Cyprian wrote to Sergai and Feodor, the abbots, touching what he had
suffered. He opposed the unlawful claims of Mityai, and cursed the men
who had arrested him.
After this event, Mityai had a talk with the Grand Prince. “It is
written in the rules of the Apostles,” said he, “that two or three
bishops may ordain a new bishop. If I have thy favor, command all the
bishops in thy dominion to assemble in Moscow and ordain me.” Dmitri
and his intimate boyars approved of this proposal. It would save
trouble, and the expense of going to Tsargrad. Command was then given
to all bishops in Russia to assemble. They came, one after another, and
went to be blessed by the new, so-called, metropolitan. But Dionisi,
the Bishop of Suzdal, being indignant at Mityai, would not approach
him. Bowing to the assembly and the Grand Prince, he spoke as follows:
“We have come at thy command, and we see that thou wishest, through us,
to create a metropolitan, but we may not break the law given to us.
Blessing must be had from the Patriarch. That is the law given
anciently.”
The appointed metropolitan, seeing his plan put to shame, and provoked
by men who incited both him and Dionisi, sent a reprimand to the latter
in these words: “Why not come to me for a blessing? Have I not power
over thee, and in the metropolis? Knowest who I am?” Dionisi then went
to Mityai, and answered: “Thou sayst that thou hast power over me; thou
hast none. If thou hast power, say thyself who, according to Scripture,
is greater, a priest or a bishop? It is for thee to bow before me and
be blessed, for thou art a priest, while I am a bishop.” “Thou hast
called me a priest?” shouted Mityai. “Me, an abbot, and an appointed
metropolitan! Know then that thou wilt not be even a priest during my
day. With my own hands I will strip off thy vestments; only wait till I
come from the Patriarch!”
A fierce quarrel rose between them. Dionisi declared that he himself
would go to the Patriarch. The following words may have burst from him:
“We shall see who, thou or I, will be metropolitan!” Mityai told the
Grand Prince that Dionisi uttered them, and begged him to repress the
Suzdal bishop.
The Grand Prince detained Dionisi, and a strong guard was placed over
him. He was informed that he could go to Tsargrad only after Mityai had
returned. Dmitri was annoyed beyond measure. The meeting had failed,
and there was great scandal. Nothing could save Mityai now but
ordination from the Patriarch. The Grand Prince hastened the journey,
and was ready to do everything to make it successful and splendid. On
second thought, it seemed unsafe to confine the Suzdal bishop. He was
respected by the people, his diocese was important, he had wide
connections among the clergy. Dmitri freed him on this promise: “I will
not go to Tsargrad without thy permission; the abbot of the Troitski
monastery will guarantee my promise.” But after returning to his
diocese, and meditating a while, Dionisi sailed down the Volga to
Sarai, and hurried off to Tsargrad, thus breaking his word and
betraying his bondman.
The indignant Mityai, who had urged keeping Dionisi in detention, and
had tried to persuade the Grand Prince not to trust either Dionisi or
his bondman, gave full expression now to his rage against the abbot and
the bishop. He represented them as keen and persistent conspirators
against him. Dmitri, confused and saddened, knew not how to pacify his
favorite. Again he advised him to hasten to Tsargrad, and declared that
he was more anxious than ever to make the journey a triumph.
It was natural that Mityai should look on the Troitski abbot with
suspicion. There were reports that the late metropolitan had held
secret converse with the abbot about taking his office, and Mityai
found in him, as he thought, a rival. Either he did not know that
Sergai had refused, or he did not believe in the refusal. He was
convinced that Sergai and Dionisi had asked Alexis to keep back his
blessing. Mityai proved to the Grand Prince that the abbot and Dionisi
had caused all the opposition of Alexis, who up to death had not
yielded. And if, in his anger, Mityai had told Dionisi that he would
strip off his vestments, he announced to Sergai in his rage that he
would drive out all the Troitski monks, and destroy the whole
monastery. “I pray the Lord,” said Sergai in answer, “not to let the
boaster destroy sacred places and expel blameless persons.” When the
monks spoke of Mityai’s departure and the terror which would return
with him, the abbot said merely: “God knows whether he will ever see
Tsargrad, much less be anointed.”
Meanwhile preparations for the journey were unparalleled. Those who had
said recently that ordination in Moscow would save expense and trouble
were only thinking now how to add grandeur to the occasion. All were
aware that the Grand Prince loved Mityai. No one knew this better than
Mityai himself, and he tested it thoroughly. For years he had been the
Grand Prince’s seal-keeper; he knew well that a small sheet of paper
brings death to a man, or brings fortune, if only the name and the seal
of the prince be upon it, and the right words stand above them. So he
said to his patron at parting, “If I have thy favor, give me a few
blanks with thy seal and thy name on them. Should I need a thousand
pieces of money, or if a want of some other kind touches me, I can
place on that paper the right words.”
Dmitri not merely consented, he praised such forethought. “Let it be as
thou sayest,” replied he, and he gave him not one, but a number of
papers. In the summer of 1379, when Mityai started, by way of Kolomna,
the Grand Prince, with his children and his oldest boyars, also bishops
and abbots and the clergy, with a concourse of people, escorted him
outside the city. On the journey he was accompanied by three
abbots,—Ivan of Moscow, Pimen of Pereyaslavl, and the abbot from
Kolomna, also other clergy, boyars and servants, “a very great
regiment.” They went through Ryazan to Mongol regions. Mamai had heard
that Mityai was going to Tsargrad, and he commanded a halt in the
journey. But on learning that an appointed metropolitan was going to
the Patriarch (and no doubt Mityai gave him presents), he not only left
a free road to him, but added also a patent freeing him and the Russian
clergy from tribute. On arriving at Feodosia, they took a Genoese ship,
and sailed over “the abysses of the Euxine.”
When the Black Sea was behind them, and they were nearing the city of
Constantinople, Mityai fell ill and died suddenly. As soon as land was
reached, they buried him in the suburb of Galata.
The pastors of the church were greatly troubled, not through losing
Mityai, but to decide who might fill the void left by him. Every one
learned quickly what had happened, and a violent death was mentioned.
But a more important question in that “great regiment” was to find a
metropolitan. Some wished Ioann of Moscow, while others insisted on
Pimen. When most men favored Pimen, Joann rose against them, and
threatened exposure. They answered by putting him in irons and choosing
Pimen unanimously. Pimen took Mityai’s robes with all his money and
papers. He found the signed blanks, and on one of them wrote the wish,
as it were, of the Grand Prince to make Pimen metropolitan; other
blanks were used to procure money. When Dmitri’s desire was presented
to the Council, the Emperor and Patriarch expressed great surprise,
since Russia had a metropolitan already. At subsequent meetings the
surprise was omitted—rich presents had been given meanwhile. Pimen was
confirmed as metropolitan.
But the trouble which began with Mityai was merely the commencement of
disorder, and drew after it a series which did not end till long after
Dmitri’s time. Dmitri found no rest in Church matters after the day he
raised up his favorite, Mityai. “I know not,” said the Grand Prince,
“how the metropolitan died, or how the deceit began. I did not send
Pimen to be metropolitan, and I will not receive him. I have no wish
whatever to see the man.” Somewhat later, Dmitri sent for Cyprian, and
received him with honor at the place where this same Cyprian had been
so basely insulted. But during the ceremony, and even while Dmitri was
kissing Cyprian, this message was delivered: “Pimen, the metropolitan,
is journeying from Tsargrad. He has passed through the Horde, and is
coming.”
The Grand Prince would not receive Pimen, who was stopped at Kolomna.
His vestments and his money were taken from him, and he was sent to
confinement at Chuhloma. The “whole regiment” of his counselors and
attendants were scattered, and some were imprisoned. Still later on
Cyprian was expelled a second time. The Patriarch took Pimen’s part and
declared Cyprian’s position illegal, and Dmitri received the
metropolitan whom he had refused to see earlier. Pimen, now recognized
in Moscow, and welcomed with solemnity, enjoyed the honor shown
previously to Cyprian. Cyprian’s day had been brief; Pimen’s day was
brief also. It was quite impossible to live with that self-made,
intriguing church dignitary.
At last the Grand Prince decided to appoint Dionisi of Suzdal, the
bishop who had quarreled with Mityai, and who, in spite of his promise,
had fled to Tsargrad, and seen the ordination of Pimen. Dionisi had
been raised to the dignity of archbishop by the Patriarch, who gave
office to all men whom he feared through their knowledge of Pimen’s
peculiar investment.
After three years and six months Dionisi returned to Suzdal with papers
from the Patriarch. As an eye-witness, he knew every detail of Pimen’s
ordination, and he explained all to the Grand Prince. In that year,
1383, Dionisi was sent by Dmitri to Tsargrad to secure the expulsion of
Pimen. Later on Dionisi was ordained metropolitan, but on the way home
he was arrested in Kief, where he died three years later in prison.
Pimen, expelled from his office, and even deprived of communication,
did not yield to Cyprian.
In the midst of these troubles rose the terrible question of meeting
the Mongols, a question of salvation or ruin for Russia. Mamai had
roused the whole Mongol power to destroy Russia utterly. He intended to
appear as a second Batu, to reconquer, then rule as might please him.
All of 1379 was spent by Mamai in preparation; no matter how he strove
to conceal these preparations, they became more and more evident.
Moscow spies at the Horde capital gave clear notice of all that was
going on, and at last Dmitri declared to his boyars and counselors:
“Mamai is marching against us!”
The Grand Prince had been greatly troubled by the coming war and its
perils, but he became cheerful and resolute when all doubt had
vanished, and he prepared for the trial with alacrity. The danger was
great, for Oleg of Ryazan and Yagello were assisting the Mongols. They
had, in fact, formed an alliance with Mamai. Toward the end of 1379,
Dmitri mustered his warriors. He sent then to Michael of Tver, called
him brother, and asked for assistance. Michael deputed his relative, a
Holm prince, with his contingent; a Kashin prince came also, leading
his men.
Dmitri summoned forces from Pskoff and Novgorod. Novgorod hurried
forward an excellent quota. Pskoff sent word that it would take part in
the struggle. The Nizni prince furnished men from both sides of the
Volga.
In 1380 Mamai boasted that he had assembled half a million warriors. He
had left the Lower Don and was moving on Varony. Besides Mongol
warriors, he had many hired troops in his army, Turks and Armenians.
One complete regiment was made up of Genoese from Kaffa. Mamai, who
wished to repeat the success of Batu, intended to cross the Don River,
and so march that Oleg and Yagello might join him and strengthen his
forces in season. He boasted tremendously. “We need supplies for the
winter,” said he to his Mongols. “We are going to eat Russian bread,
and grow rich on Russian treasure.” “Does Mitya, [10] my servant in
Moscow, know that I am going to see him?” asked he, laughing, in
presence of some Russians. “With me are twelve hordes with three
kingdoms, and thirty-three princes, besides foreign leaders. We have
seven hundred and three thousand warriors. Can Mitya, my servant,
entertain us all?”
Oleg of Ryazan turned to the Mongol with these words: “To Mamai, the
free Eastern Grand Khan above Khans, I, thy appointed and sworn
servant, pray thee. Thou art marching to punish Dmitri, thy servitor.
The time is near, Serene Khan, when thy hands will hold all the riches
of Moscow. Free me, thy slave, through thy grace from disaster. Dmitri
and I are thy slaves, but I am obedient and humble; I serve thee.
Dmitri is refractory and insolent.” Papers like these, seized by
Dmitri’s swift horsemen, revealed what his enemies were plotting.
Interesting was Oleg’s correspondence with Yagello: “Grand Prince
Yagello, I write to thee gladly. Thou hast been thinking this long time
to punish Dmitri; the time has now come to do so. Mamai is marching on
Moscow with countless warriors. My envoys have gone to Mamai with many
gifts and with worship. Thou wilt send things of as much higher value
as thou art above me in greatness. When the Khan comes and Dmitri
escapes to distant regions, we will sit in Moscow or Vladimir. At the
Khan’s command, we will divide Moscow between us; thou from Lithuania,
I from Ryazan.”
It is noteworthy that Mamai, while delighted with their offers of
service, declared to each of the princes as follows: “As much Russian
land as ye wish in my dominion I will give as reward, and ye will utter
strong oath to me.” And then, with Mongol haughtiness, he added: “I do
not need your assistance, but since ye have been abused I reward, and
show you favor.” He informed them suggestively that he considered the
campaign against Moscow as undertaken only to punish disobedience. “The
terror of me will crush Moscow,” said he, as if to chide them for
exalting his glory in the triumph then approaching. For invincible
majesty like his, it was no exploit to quell Dmitri.
When the summer of 1380 began, Yagello set out to join Mamai. News came
to Moscow in season. Swift couriers hastened in many directions. All
were anxious, all were impatient. Each man sent out seemed to go at a
snail’s pace. Soon reports were confirmed by the statement: “Mamai is
coming!” Meanwhile, regiment after regiment was appearing at Moscow,
and marching on farther toward Kolomna. Somewhat later news came that
Mamai had halted, or was moving more slowly; that he was waiting for
his allies. He and Yagello had agreed to meet at the Oká, and enter
Moscow regions in early September. All of Dmitri’s men were to be at
Kolomna before the first half of August had ended.
As there was no metropolitan at that time in Moscow, Dmitri went to the
Troitski abbot, Sergai, for a blessing. He shared his food with the
holy hermit, and noting among the monks present two of great strength
and stature, by name Peresvait and Oslyaba, he asked as a favor that
they should go with him. In the world they had been boyars, and
noteworthy persons. At parting, Sergai gave this comfort in words to
Dmitri: “The Lord will defend, He will help thee. He will put down thy
enemies and give thee great glory.”
August 20, Dmitri left Moscow and found his whole army waiting at
Kolomna. There was a general review at that place, and a redistribution
of parts of the army. When everything was in order, prayer was offered
up in the open field, and then all the army sang “Spasi Gospodi pyudi
Tvoya” (O Lord, save Thy people). It may be that never had the strength
and great meaning of these words been felt more profoundly in Russia
than in Kolomna on that day.
The army was divided into the center, the left and the right wing, the
rear and the vanguard, each of which divisions was again subdivided in
the same way. Dmitri was in the center with his chief voevodas. Among
the first of these was Bobrok of Volynia, to whom the most difficult
work in that march had been given. The next famed voevodas were Mikula
and Nikolai Velyaminoff. On the right wing marched Vladimir, Dmitri’s
cousin; the left wing was led by Glaib, among the most beloved of the
leaders, a prince from Bryansk, whose name his friends had changed to
Brenko. When all places were assigned, the army advanced toward the
Don, marching so as to intercept the advance of Yagello.
As soon as the army had moved from Kolomna, scouting parties were sent
out on all sides to learn clearly the positions of Mamai, Yagello and
Oleg. In the first days of September, the army reached the Don country,
and on September 6, 1380, Dmitri’s men beheld the brown river. They
encamped directly in front of that spot where the small river Nepryadva
enters the Don. Some of the voevodas were in favor of waiting for the
Mongols without crossing the river, but in this case Dmitri showed
resolve and immense firmness. He wished to cross the river and give
Mamai battle immediately. When all opposing reasons were given, he
answered: “I have not come to the Don to watch Mongols.” Just then one
of the two monks who had come with him from the Troitski monastery gave
him a letter from the abbot, which contained these words, and seemed to
Dmitri to point out the true order of action: “March on, O Prince
Dmitri, Our Lord the Holy Trinity will assist thee.”
Meanwhile, a Mongol prisoner had been brought in from Mamai’s outpost;
not a simple warrior, but a man who, because he feared torture, gave
true information. “The Khan is waiting,” said he, “for Oleg of Ryazan,
and Yagello. He does not know that the Moscow prince has reached the
Don.” To the question “Is his force great?” the man answered: “An
immense multitude; it is countless.”
From the west now came tidings that Yagello was at Odoeff. Again the
question rose—“Shall we cross the river, or wait here for the enemy?”
“It is better to cross,” declared some. “We shall bring fear to Mamai’s
men.” Others objected. “Wait on this side,” said they, “it is safer.
Mamai is mighty; to attack him may ruin us.” But the first men insisted
that the blow should be given before Yagello could join with the
Mongols, and they instanced how Nevski had beaten the Swedes by
crossing a river, and how Yaroslav the Lawgiver, by passing the
Dnieper, had crushed Sviatopolk the Cursed. “If we stay here,” added
Andrei and Dmitri, Yagello’s two brothers, “we shall give a weak
battle; if we cross each man will think, ‘We cannot escape, we must
win, though we die in the struggle.’ The Mongols may be many, but are
we not Orthodox Christians? God is in truth, not in numbers.” “But if
we leave Oleg in the rear?” asked others. “It is better to withdraw to
one side, intrench, and wait; see what Oleg will do. How can we leave
him behind us?”
Dmitri rose then and began speaking: “I,” said he, “address no man
apart, but speak to all equally. I have not come to stand guard over
Oleg, or to watch the Don River. Better never leave home than come
hither and do nothing.” He gave command then to find fords and pass
over immediately. “Dear friends and brothers,” said he, as he rode
through the regiments later, “we are preparing to cross the river. On
the other side we shall find that which God sends us. Either we shall
win and redeem all, or we shall lay down our lives for our brothers,
Orthodox Christians.” “We are ready to die or to conquer!” responded
the whole army.
Dmitri’s decision was timely and wise. Simeon Melik, his boyar, rushed
in and declared that he had been battling with outposts; that Mamai was
at Gusin Brod and knew of Dmitri’s arrival, that he was hastening on to
prevent him from crossing, and thus delay battle till after the coming
of Yagello. It was learned that Yagello had marched from Odoeff, and
that Mamai was informed of his movements. There was no time for
loitering; on the contrary, moments might be decisive.
September 7, Dmitri’s army was on the right bank of the river A ford
had been found near the Nepryadva, and when the moon, full on September
1, touched the horizon, all the regiments had crossed and were
encamped. The army extended along the Nepryadva about three miles and a
half, with its rear toward the river, which had a steep bank, and was
hidden by a forest. In front of the army was a wide open region of
gentle hillsides, and slightly raised flat land. That eve of the Holy
Virgin’s Nativity, September 7, O.S., was calm and warm, and the moon
was shining clearly. Just at midnight, when all the warriors were at
rest, the Grand Prince and Bobrok of Volynia rode out to examine the
battle-field. When out a good distance they looked around at their
sleeping army, that host of two hundred thousand men. Here and there
they could see the dying flame of a camp-fire; farther off at one side,
or behind them, were numberless distant lights of small watch-fires.
From the Nepryadva and the Don came at intervals the cry of a
night-bird, or the plashing of wings on the water; and from the forest
the howling of wolves was heard, or the screech of an owl, as if the
odor of flesh had enticed them.
Bobrok, who knew well the tricks of war, and their practice, learned in
countless expeditions and battles, showed Dmitri how to estimate the
enemy’s strength and position by the “earth throbbing,” as people
called it in those days. Both men dismounted, put their ears to the
earth, and listened. They heard a sound from tens of thousands of
horses, a sound as if myriads of people were building a city, or as if
an army of men had met, on a great boundless market-square, in
discussion. The coming day seemed mysterious, ominous, from this deep
“earth throbbing.” Bobrok, however, gave hope to Dmitri, and as he had
faith in his own heart, he assured the Grand Prince of triumph, but
triumph which would verge very closely on failure. “Thou wilt overcome
the Mongols,” said he, “but many and many of thy faithful men will fall
by pagan hands.” “God’s will be done,” replied Dmitri, sadly.
After they had examined the battle-ground carefully, they returned
without speaking. The broad field of Kulikovo was cut in two by a
depression, at the bottom of which flowed the small Smolka River. Near
its mouth stood a dense forest, but its farther extent and all the
upper part of the depression was composed of level eminences, the
gentle slopes from each facing another. On the high field touched by
the Nepryadva the Russian army had arranged itself. From beyond the
elevation, which faced the army, the Mongols were expected. Toward this
elevation stretched from the steep bank of the Nepryadva another
depression containing a forest of oak trees. This was the Lower Dubik,
at the bottom of which was a small stream, also called Dubik, which
flowed into the Nepryadva. The beginning of this Dubik depression began
far beyond Kulikovo, but when it approached the Nepryadva it branched
off in the flat expanse into small side slopes, which, becoming less
marked, ceased at last near the foot of that eminence beyond which
began the gentle slopes toward the Smolka. That was therefore the
highest place in all the eminence. It was clear that on that place the
Mongols would camp; from that point they would move to the battle. In
general the position seemed favorable to Dmitri.
The well known tactics of the Mongols of spreading out widely and
enclosing the enemy, which they did through numerical preponderance,
could not be used by Mamai at Kulikovo. He could not turn either flank
or reach the rear of the Russians. The abrupt bank of the Smolka, on
which rested the left wing of the army, seemed unapproachable, through
its woody entanglement, for some distance before it reached the Don,
and the right wing rested on the rugged bank of the Nepryadva, which
had no ford at any point. Besides, the descent from the eminence to be
occupied by the Mongols to the center of the plain of Kulikovo was to
some extent difficult. The great point was to give Mamai no time to
make plans after coming, and for the Russians to advance as far from
the Don as was needed, and quickly. The Mongol cavalry would be
confused from lack of room to develop. It is true that in case of
defeat the destruction of the Russians seemed certain. Escape would be
cut off on three sides, and advance would be blocked by the enemy. But
the army had crossed, so that no man might think of retreating. The
forest which covered the lower course of the Smolka gave also the
chance of secreting a division of warriors to meet the Mongols, in case
they should try to encircle the rear; or, if they should force the
Russian center and cut it in two, this division would meet them. In
view of this plan, the various parts of the army were assigned to
positions.
On September 8, the Virgin’s Nativity,—when day and night are of equal
length, the sun rising at six and setting at the same hour in the
evening,—the whole country was covered with a dense fog. Time passed,
and still the sky was not visible. Meanwhile the regiments were taking
their positions. The men under Bobrok and Vladimir the Brave took a
place on the left wing. To them were added Novgorod forces commanded by
Dmitri of Nizni. He was to stay on that wing and not leave it, but
Bobrok and Vladimir, after the battle began, were to enter the forest
and wait till Bobrok gave the signal for action. The right wing, which
touched the Nepryadva, was commanded by Andrei and Dmitri, sons of
Olgerd. To their forces were joined the Pskoff and Starodub men, with
Rostoff troops and others. The Grand Prince took his place in the
center, made up of warriors from Moscow, Vladimir and Suzdal. This was
the great, the strong regiment, divided again into portions. Its left
flank, which touched on the Nizni men, was commanded by Bailozero
princes; its advance lines were led by Nikolai, and the center by
Timofei Velyaminoff with Prince Glaib, known as Brenko. The right
flank, which touched on the forces of Andrei and Dmitri, was commanded
by other great boyars.
About an hour before midday the fog disappeared, and the day became
radiant. The Grand Prince rode through the regiments, encouraging all
to have firm faith in God, and stand steadfast for Christ’s sacred
Church, and the whole Russian land. “We are ready to die or win!” was
the answer. The eagerness for action grew irrepressible, as the murmur
spread over those two hundred thousand men: “The Mongols are coming!
the Mongols!” The Grand Prince rushed to his regiment, and with the
words: “God is our refuge and strength,” the army began to move
forward. The awe of the moment filled every man. Each wished to surpass
every other in valor. There was no chance then for speaking; all voices
were merged in the thunder of marching.
The Mongols, who appeared an hour before midday, did not stay on the
height, as had been their purpose. Urged to action by the rapid
approach of the Russians, Mamai’s legions rolled down like a flood to
the field of Kulikovo. As they drew near the Russians a Mongol champion
of great size and threatening aspect rode out in front of the army, and
challenged any one to meet him. Hearing these words a man on the
Russian side turned to those about him, saying: “Fathers and brothers,
forgive me, the sinful. Pray for me, brother Oslyaba!” This was the
monk Peresvait. When Mamai’s champion saw him, he spurred on with all
his might. The Russian urged his horse unsparingly, and the two men
struck each other squarely with their lances; both horses fell, but
rose again. The Mongol dropped to the earth and remained there.
Peresvait was borne back to his place alive, but he died soon after.
Trumpets on both sides now sounded for action, and the great battle
began. At midday they were fighting breast to breast; face to face.
Lances broke as if reeds; arrows came as numerous as raindrops. Dust
dimmed the sun; people fell like grass when scythes are cutting. A
horse was killed under Dmitri; he mounted another. Later he was seen on
foot, limping and wounded. After that no man beheld him till the battle
was over.
When the Russians began the struggle, they had the Dubik on the west
and the Smolka on the east at the left, and looked themselves toward
the south. Bobrok and Vladimir retired to the forest and hid there, as
they had been commanded. On the left wing from which they had
withdrawn, was the Nizni prince. The Mongols moved at midday on the
center, where stood the Grand Prince’s standard. In the first ranks
were the valiant boyars, Simeon Melik and Nikolai Velyaminoff. The sun
was in the face of the Russians; the wind was against them. The Mongols
had the sunlight on their shoulders; their faces were shaded; the wind
was on their side and helped them. The main force and weight of the
enemy was hurled at the “great regiment” in the center, rather more
towards its left flank. On the right wing it was easier for the
Russians, despite the superior and growing force of the enemy. Mamai’s
tent, commanding the field, was on the height called Red Hill (Krasno
Gora); from there he followed the battle, and sent reinforcements,
which rushed with great shouts to the places appointed; and for miles
in the width and the length of it the whole field of Kulikovo groaned
with the giant battle.
The sound of the terrible conflict rose and fell from edge to edge of
the land, like deep bursts of thunder. No matter how the Mongols were
cut down with swords, raised on spears, or hewn with axes, they pressed
into every place. Legion rushed in after legion, numerous as in Batu’s
day; a multitude so great that in places they were troubled by their
own immense numbers. At times they were so crowded, that, throwing away
weapons, they fought empty-handed, and falling, were trampled. After a
time, it seemed that the Mongols were conquerors. Half the field on the
left of the Russians appeared to be won by Mamai’s men; but the
Russians remembered how their ancestors had died on the Kalka; and
praying, “O God, do not suffer us to perish like our fathers on the
Kalka,” they sprang up again. “And it was a wonder,” said an
eye-witness, “to see how those thousands fought on the Kulikovo.” Each
man tried to surpass the other. But the foe was not second in valor. At
two o’clock the battle was raging in all its fury and its terror.
Neither could conquer the other; attack and resistance were equal. Then
Mamai’s warriors stormed at the center, and, though driven back, rushed
again to the onset and displaced the left wing of the enemy.
Mamai, from Krasno Gora, saw the Russian ranks weaken, saw that banners
and flags had gone down in great numbers, and he sent his last strong
reserve forward. The left wing was torn from the center. There remained
but a few wretched remnants of the regiments from Nizni, and the center
itself held its place with terrible effort. Andrei, son of Olgerd, had
to send from the right wing part of his forces to strengthen the
center, now ready to separate into fragments. Passing around the rear,
behind the men fighting under Brenko, this reinforcement came out where
the left wing had been forced from the center, and the rent was
repaired by its coming. The balance of the battle was established. The
Vladimir and Suzdal regiments had been brought to disorder, because in
their ranks were men without training, taken recently from the plough.
These, thinking that the end had come, were breaking. Now they rallied,
and, under the valiant Timofei Velyaminoff, they prevented the Mongols
from winning. The struggle at that point had grown desperate. The
Mongols in their turn were thrown into disorder, and fell back after
suffering a pitiless slaughter. All on the Russian side were encouraged
by this new advantage, and they paid back the enemy with mighty
strokes.
Thus the battle raged on till three o’clock, when came the moment of
greatest intensity. Mamai, looking from his height, was quivering from
excitement, anxiety, and anger. Doubt in the power at his disposal was
beginning to seize him, when all at once an immense shout of joy was
sent up by the Mongols. The center had been displaced by Mamai’s men.
Toward the Don the Russian line had given away very sensibly. The right
Russian wing kept its position from the height, the left wing could not
be discovered; only Mongol troops were visible on that part of the
field. Simeon Melik and Nikolai Velyaminoff were both dead. The “great
regiment” was almost annihilated.
After shattering Timofei Velyaminoff and Brenko forces, the Mongols
turned toward the left wing, They found little resistance there from
the forces of the Bailozero princes, and still less from those of
Dmitri of Nizni. Thus the whole Russian left and center were pushed
more and more from their original positions by the enemy, and driven
toward the Don.
The right wing had suffered less from the Mongols,—even had the
advantage.
The sons of Olgerd not only repulsed the extreme Mongol left, but
advanced on it. They were held back, however, by the fact that the
center could not advance with them. The entire center was overborne and
pushed back by the immense force of Mongols, but still it did not let
itself be broken. Then Pskoff troops and others were sent to support
the left wing. The two sons of Olgerd repelled every onset from
horsemen, till at last, though not moving forward, they found
themselves in advance of all other forces. At four after midday, the
great standard of the Grand Prince went down, and nearly at the same
time Brenko died. Judging by his dress, the Mongols took him for the
Grand Prince, and shouts of triumph filled all the battle-field. The
princes of Bailozero had fallen. There also, among the piles of dead,
lay the two princes Tarusski, and many others. But the struggling army
made the enemy pay dearly for every step they gained; they fought
breast to breast, and retreated, it might be said, advancing one step
and falling back two, to advance then another step. The field was
covered with bodies, the body of a Russian on the body of a Mongol. The
Russian power was failing, yielding, falling back,—on the point of
breaking.
Mamai was triumphant. From the height of Red Hill the left wing and the
center of the Russian army seemed broken into fragments.
All this was seen by Vladimir and Bobrok of Volynia from their ambush.
“Why are we idle so long?” asked Vladimir, reproaching Bobrok, and
eager to rush into action. Bobrok restrained him, and followed every
movement with the utmost care and anxiety. Men sent by him to watch
from the tree-tops gave details. “Wait, wait a little longer,” said
Bobrok. Meanwhile the turn made by the Russians was so great that,
facing them always, the Mongols came at last to present their rear
ranks to the regiments in ambush, while the Russian left wing was
almost where it had stood at the opening of the battle. The right wing
had repulsed all attacks and remained in its original position. The men
in ambush were enraged at Bobrok. “Why are we here? What are we doing?”
“Why do we wait to see our comrades slaughtered?” “If we begin at the
wrong time,” said Bobrok, “all will be lost.” When at last he saw that
the moment had come, he said: “Pray to the Lord now, my brothers. This
is the moment!”
All made the sign of the cross and rushed forward. The regiment
appeared like a terrible storm in the midst of the battle. Those
warriors had sprung, as it were, from the earth behind the enemy.
Strong, fresh and eager for hours to join in the action, directed by
heroes like Bobrok and Vladimir, they decided the battle.
Wearied as they had been, though upheld by the flush and glory of
triumph, the terror of the Mongols became now in one moment unbounded.
Struck in the rear and the flank by fresh warriors, they were in a
hopeless position. Every Mongol who had strength to leave the field
fled. The left and right wings of the Russian forces, under Dmitri of
Nizni and the sons of Olgerd, rushed after the fugitives. The defeat
and the ruin of Mamai’s men was complete. He and his magnates fled,
leaving all things behind them. Bobrok’s fresh troops followed
throughout the night. The rest of the army, which was wearied, held the
field of that desperate slaughter.
Vladimir left pursuit to Bobrok, and returned. His one question was:
“Where is the Grand Prince; where is my cousin Dmitri?” No one could
answer. “Look for him! Look for him!” cried Vladimir. They sought him
in all places, and at last two warriors found him not far from where
the battle had opened. There were many trees freshly felled in that
place. Among the branches of one of these trees, they saw, as they
thought, a dead body. On examination they found that the man was
breathing, and then they recognized the Grand Prince. One of the men
remained with him, while the other rushed with the news to Vladimir.
Dmitri was bruised and injured internally, and though he recovered his
life was cut short by the wounds received in that terrible battle.
Five centuries have passed since that memorable day, but the name of
Dmitri of the Don is still fresh in the minds of the people, and on
“Dmitri’s Saturday,” the anniversary of the battle, prayers are offered
by the Church in remembrance of the men who on the field of Kulikovo
laid down their lives for fatherland and faith.
The victory gave immense gain to Moscow. It strengthened that city’s
supremacy greatly. But the liberation of Russia from the Mongols was
still in the future, and distant. It was not till a century and four
years later that final freedom was attained, in the reign of Dmitri’s
great-grandson, Ivan Veliki.