Ogniem i mieczem. English by Henryk Sienkiewicz

  CHAPTER XXVII.

  Krivonos marched then from Belaya Tserkoff through Skvira andPogrebische to Makhnovka. Wherever he passed, traces of humanhabitation vanished. Whoever did not join him perished under the knife.Grain was burned standing, with forests and gardens. At the same timethe prince carried annihilation in his hand. After the razing ofPogrebische, and the baptism of blood which Pan Baranovski gave toNyemiroff, the prince's army destroyed a number of other considerablebands, and halted in camp at Raigorod, where during a month theyscarcely got off their horses. They were weakened by toil, and deathhad decreased them notably. Rest was necessary, for the hands of thesereapers in the harvest of blood had relaxed. The prince wavered,therefore, and thought whether it would not be better to go for a timeto a more peaceable region to rest and recruit his forces, especiallyhis horses, which were more like skeletons of beasts than livingcreatures, since they had not eaten grain for a month, subsisting onlyon trampled grass.

  But after they had halted a week tidings were brought thatreinforcements were coming. The prince went out to meet them, andreally met Pan Yanush Tishkyevich, the voevoda of Kieff, who came withfifteen hundred good men, and with him Pan Krishtof Tishkyevich,under-judge of Bratslav; young Pan Aksak, quite a youth yet, but with awell-armed company of his own; and many nobles, such as the Senyuts,the Palubinskis, the Jitinskis, the Yelovitskis, the Kyerdeis, theBoguslavskis,--some with escorts, others without. The entire forceformed nearly two thousand horse, besides attendants.

  The prince was greatly pleased, and invited thankfully to his quartersthe voevoda, who could not cease wondering at the poverty andsimplicity of the place. For the prince, by so much as he lived like aking in Lubni, by that much did he permit himself no comfort in thefield, wishing to give an example to the soldiers. He lived thereforein one room, which the voevoda of Kieff, squeezing through the narrowdoor, was hardly able to enter, by reason of his enormous thickness,till he ordered his attendant to push him from behind. In the cottage,besides the table, wooden benches, and a bed covered with horse-skin,there was nothing except a little room near the door, in which anattendant slept, always ready for service. This simplicity greatlyastonished the voevoda, who lived in comfort and carried carpets withhim. He entered finally, and gazed with curiosity on the prince,wondering how so great a spirit could find its place in such simplicityand poverty. He had seen Yeremi from time to time at the Diets inWarsaw, was in fact a distant relative of his, but did not know himintimately. Now, when he began to speak with him, he recognized at oncethat he had to do with an extraordinary man; and he, an old senator andsoldier, who used to clap his senatorial colleagues on the shoulders,and say to Prince Dominik Zaslavski, "My dear," and was familiar withthe king himself, could not attain familiarity like this withVishnyevetski, though the prince received him kindly, for he wasthankful for the reinforcements.

  "Worthy voevoda," said he, "praise be to God that you have come withyour people, for I have worked here to my last breath."

  "I have noticed, by your soldiers, that they have worked, poor fellows,which disturbs me not a little, for I have come with the request thatyou hasten to save me."

  "And is there hurry?"

  "Periculum in mora, periculum in mora! Ruffians to the number ofseveral thousand have appeared, with Krivonos at their head, who, as Ihave heard, was sent against you; but having received information thatyou had moved on Konstantinoff, he went there, and on the road hasinvested Makhnovka, and has wrought such desolation that no tongue candescribe it."

  "I have heard of Krivonos, and waited for him here; but since I findthat he has missed me, I must seek him. Really the affair will not bidedelay. Is there a strong garrison in Makhnovka?"

  "There are two hundred Germans in the castle, very good men, who willhold out yet for some time. But the worst is, that many nobles haveassembled in the town with their families, and the place is fortifiedonly by earthworks and palisades, and cannot resist long."

  "In truth, the affair suffers no delay," repeated the prince. Thenturning to his attendant, he said: "Jelenksi, run for the colonels!"

  The voevoda of Kieff was sitting meanwhile on a bench, and panting. Hehad some expectation of supper; for he was hungry, and liked goodeating.

  Presently the tramp of armed men was heard, and the prince's officersentered,--black, thin, bearded, with sunken eyes, with traces ofindescribable labor on their faces. They bowed in silence to the princeand his guests, and waited for his words.

  "Gentlemen, are the horses at their places?"

  "Yes, ready as always."

  "It is well. In an hour we will move on Krivonos."

  "Hi!" said the voevoda of Kieff; and he looked in wonderment at PanKryshtof, the sub-judge of Bratslav.

  The prince continued: "Ponyatovski and Vershul will march first; afterthem Baranovski will go with his dragoons, and in an hour we will movewith the cannon of Vurtsel."

  The colonels bowed and left the room, and soon the trumpets were heardsounding to horse. The voevoda of Kieff did not expect such haste, anddid not indeed wish it, since he was hungry and tired. He counted onresting about a day with the prince, and then moving. Now he would haveto mount his horse at once, without sleeping or eating.

  "But, your Highness," said he, "are your soldiers able to reachMakhnovka? I see they are terribly tired, and the road is a long one."

  "Don't let your head ache over that. They go to a battle as to aconcert."

  "I see that; I see they are sulphurous fellows. But my men areroad-weary."

  "You have just said, 'Periculum in mora.'"

  "Yes; but we might rest for the night. We have come from near Hmelnik."

  "Worthy voevoda, we have come from Lubni and the Trans-Dnieper."

  "We were a whole day on the road."

  "We a whole month."

  The prince went out to arrange in person the order of march. Thevoevoda stared at the under-judge, struck his palms on his knees, andsaid,--

  "Ah! I have got what I wanted, you see. As God lives, he will kill mewith hunger. Here is swimming in hot water for you! I come for aid, andthink that after great solicitation they will move in two or threedays; but now they won't give us time to draw breath. May the deviltake them! The stirrup-strap has galled my leg; my traitor of anattendant buckled it badly. My stomach is empty. The devil take them!Makhnovka is Makhnovka; but my stomach is my stomach. I am an oldsoldier, have fought in more wars probably than he has, but never insuch helter-skelter fashion. Those are devils, not men; they don't eat,don't sleep,--just fight. As God is dear to me, they never eatanything. They look like ghosts, don't they?"

  "Yes; but they have fiery courage," answered Pan Kryshtof, who was inlove with soldier life. "God bless us, what disorder and tumult inother camps when it comes to marching--how much running, arrangingwagons, sending for horses! But now, do you hear? the light cavalry ison the march."

  "Is it possible? Why, this is terrible," said the voevoda.

  But young Pan Aksak clasped his boyish hands. "Ah, that is a mightyleader!" said he in ecstasy.

  "Oh, there is milk under your nose!" snapped the voevoda. "Cunctatortoo was a great leader! Do you understand?"

  At this moment the prince came in. "Gentlemen, to horse! We march."

  The voevoda did not restrain himself. "Order something for us to eat.Prince, for I am hungry," cried he, in an outburst of ill-humor.

  "Oh, my worthy voevoda," said the prince, laughing and taking hold ofhim by the shoulder, "forgive me, forgive me! With all my heart. But inwar one forgets these things."

  "Well, Pan Kryshtof, haven't I told you that they don't eat?" asked thevoevoda, turning to the under-judge of Bratslav.

  The supper did not last long, and a couple of hours later even theinfantry had left Raigorod. The army marched through Vinnitsa and Litinto Hmelnik; on the way Vershul met a Tartar party in Saverovka, whichhe and Volodyovski destroyed, and freed a few hundred captives,--almostall young women. There began the ruined countr
y; all around were tracesof the hand of Krivonos. Strijavka was burned, and its population putto death in a terrible manner. Apparently the unfortunates had resistedKrivonos; therefore the savage chief had delivered them to sword andflame. On an oak-tree at the entrance to the village hung PanStrijovski himself, whom Tishkyevich's men recognized at once. He wasentirely naked, and had around his neck an enormous necklace of headsstrung on a rope; they were the heads of his wife and six children.Everything in the village itself was burned to the ground. They saw onboth sides of the road a long row of "Cossack candles,"--that is,people with hands raised above their heads, and tied to stakes driveninto the ground, wound around with straw steeped in pitch and set onfire at the hands. The greater part of them had only their handsburned, for the rain had evidently stopped the further burning. Butthose bodies were terrible, with their distorted faces and black stumpsof hands stretched to heaven. The odor of putrefaction spread roundabout. Above the stakes whirled circles of ravens and crows, which atthe approach of the troops flew away with an uproar from the nearerstakes to sit on the farther ones. A number of wolves galloped offbefore the regiments to the thicket. The men marched on in silencethrough the alley, and counted the "candles." There were between threeand four hundred of them.

  They passed at length that unfortunate village, and breathed the freshair of the field. But traces of destruction extended farther. It wasthe first half of July. The grain was almost ripe, for an early harvestwas looked for. But entire fields were partly burned, partly trampled,tangled, trodden into the earth. It might have been thought that ahurricane had passed over the land. In fact, the most terrible of allhurricanes had passed,--civil war. The soldiers of the prince had seenmore than once rich neighborhoods ruined by Tartar raids; but such astorm, such mad destruction, they had never seen. Forests were burnedas well as grain. Where fire had not devoured the trees the bark andleaves were swept from them by a tongue of fire; they were scorched byits breath, smoked, blackened, and the tree-trunk stuck up like askeleton. The voevoda of Kieff looked, and could not believe his eyes.Maidyanoe, Zbar,--villages, houses,--nothing but burned ruins! On oneside and another the men had run off to Krivonos; the women andchildren had been taken captive by that part of the horde which Vershuland Volodyovski had crushed out. On the earth a wilderness; in the airflocks of ravens, crows, jackdaws, and vultures, which had flownhither, God knows whence, to the Cossack harvest. Fresher traces of thepassage of troops were seen each moment. From time to time they cameupon broken wagons, bodies of cattle and men not yet decayed, brokencups, brass kettles, bags of wet flour, ruins still smoking, stacks ofgrain recently begun and left unfinished.

  The prince urged his regiments on to Hmelnik without drawing breath.The old voevoda seized himself by the head, repeating sadly,--

  "My Makhnovka, my Makhnovka! I see we shall not come in time."

  Meanwhile news was brought to Hmelnik that Makhnovka was besieged, notby old Krivonos himself, but by his son with several thousand men, andthat it was he who had committed such inhuman devastations along theroad. The place was already taken, according to accounts. The Cossackson capturing it had cut to pieces the nobles and the Jews, and takenthe women of the nobles to camp, where a fate worse than death awaitedthem. But the castle, under the leadership of Pan Lyeff, held out yet.The Cossacks stormed it from the Bernardine monastery, in which theyhad put the monks to death. Pan Lyeff, using all his strength andpowder, gave no hope of holding out longer than one night.

  The prince therefore left the infantry, the guns, and the main strengthof the army, which he ordered to go to Bystrika, and galloped on to therelief with the voevoda, Pan Kryshtof, Pan Aksak, and two thousandsoldiers. The old voevoda was for delay, for he had lost his head.

  "Makhnovka is lost! We shall arrive too late! We would better leave it,defend other places, and provide them with garrisons."

  But the prince would not listen to him. The under-judge of Bratslavurged the advance, and the troops rushed to the fight.

  "Since we have come thus far, we will not leave without blood," saidthe colonels; and they went on.

  About two miles and a half from Makhnovka a few riders, moving as fastas their horses could carry them, halted in front of the troops. It wasPan Lyeff and his companions. Seeing him, the voevoda of Kieff guessedat once what had happened.

  "The castle is taken!" he cried.

  "It is!" answered Pan Lyeff; and that moment he fainted, for he was cutwith swords, was shot through, and had lost much blood. But the othersbegan to tell what had taken place. The Germans on the wall were cutdown to the last man, for they preferred to die rather than yield. PanLyeff had forced his way through the thick of the mob and the brokengates. In the rooms of the tower a few tens of nobles were defendingthemselves; to those speedy succor should be given.

  The cavalry swept on with all speed. Soon the town and castle werevisible on a hill, and above them a dense cloud of smoke from the firewhich had already begun. The day was coming to an end. The sky wasflushed with gigantic golden and purple lights, which the troopsmistook at once for a conflagration. By these flashes the Zaporojianregiments could be seen, and dense masses of a mob rushing through thegates to meet the Polish troops,--the more confidently since no one inthe town knew of the approach of Yeremi. It was supposed that thevoevoda of Kieff alone was marching with succor. It was evident thatvudka had blinded them entirely, or the recent capture of the castlehad inspired them with immeasurable insolence; for they descended thehill boldly, and only when they had reached the plain did they form forbattle, which they did with great readiness, thundering with theirdrums and trumpets. In view of this a shout of joy went up from everyPolish breast, and the voevoda of Kieff had an opportunity to admire asecond time the discipline of Vishnyevetski's troops. Halting in viewof the Cossacks, they formed at once in battle-array, the heavy cavalryin the centre, the light horse at the wings, so that there was nonecessity of man[oe]uvres, they could begin on the spot.

  "Oh, Pan Kryshtof, what men!" said the voevoda. "They fell into orderat once; they could give battle without a leader."

  But the prince, like a provident chief, flew, with baton in hand,between the companies, examined, and gave final orders. The eveningtwilight was reflected on his silver armor, and he was like a brightflame flying between the ranks, he alone glistening amid the darkarmor.

  Three regiments formed the centre of the foremost line. The first ofthese was led by the voevoda of Kieff himself, the second by young PanAksak, the third by Pan Kryshtof Tishkyevich; after these, in thesecond line, were the dragoons under Baranovski, and finally thegigantic hussars of the prince, led by Pan Yan. Vershul, Kushel, andPonyatovski occupied the wings. There were no cannon, for Vurtsel hadremained in Bystrika. The prince galloped to the voevoda, motioned withhis baton, and said,--

  "Do you begin, because of the injustice done you!"

  The voevoda in turn waved his hand; the soldiers bent in their saddlesand moved on. It was evident at once by his style of leadership thatthe voevoda, though heavy and dilatory,--for he was bent with age,--wasan experienced and valiant soldier. To spare his troops he did notstart them at the highest speed, but led them slowly, quickening themarch as he approached the enemy. He went himself in the front rank,with baton in hand; his attendant merely carried his long and heavysword, but not heavy for the hand of the old voevoda. The mob on foothurried with scythes and flails against the cavalry, in order torestrain the first impetus and lighten the attack for the Zaporojians.When they were separated by only a few tens of yards, the people ofMakhnovka recognized the voevoda by his gigantic stature andcorpulence, and began to cry out,--

  "Hi! serene great mighty voevoda, the harvest is near; why don't youorder out your subjects? Our respects, serene lord! We will perforatethat stomach of yours."

  They sent a shower of bullets on the cavalry, but without harm, for thehorses were going like a whirlwind and struck mightily. The clatter offlails and the sound of scythes were heard on the armor; then cries andgroans. The
lances opened a way in the dense mass of the mob, throughwhich the infuriated horses rushed like a tempest, trampling,overturning, mashing. And as on the meadow when a rank of mowersadvance, the rich grass disappears before them and they go on swingingthe handles of their scythes, just so did the broad avalanche of themob contract, melt, disappear, pushed by the breasts of horses. Unableto keep their places, they began to waver. Then thundered the shout,"Save yourselves!" and the whole mass, throwing down scythes, flails,forks, guns, rushed back in wild dismay on the Zaporojian regimentsbehind. But the Zaporojians, fearing lest the fleeing throng shoulddisorder their ranks, placed their lances against them; the mob, seeingthis resistance, rushed with a howl of despair to both sides, but wereimmediately hurled back by Kushel and Ponyatovski, who had just movedfrom the wings of the prince's division.

  The voevoda, now riding over the bodies of the mob, was in the front ofthe Zaporojians and rushed toward them. They too rushed at him, wishingto answer momentum with momentum. They struck each other like two wavesgoing in opposite directions, which when they meet form a foamingridge. So horses rose before horses, the riders like a wave, the swordsabove the wave like foam. The voevoda discovered that he was notworking with a mob now, but with stern and trained Zaporojian warriors.The two lines pressed each other mutually, bent, neither being able tobreak the other. Bodies fell thickly, for there man met man, and steelstruck steel. The voevoda himself, putting his baton under his belt,and taking the sword from his attendant, worked in the sweat of hisbrow, puffing like a blacksmith's bellows. And with him the twoSenyuts, the Kyerdeis, the Boguslavskis, the Yelovitskis, and thePolubinskis wriggled as if in boiling water.

  But on the Cossack side the fiercest of all was Ivan Burdabut, thelieutenant-colonel of the Kalnik regiment, a Cossack of giganticstrength and stature. He was the more terrible because he had a horsewhich fought as well as its master. More than one man reined in hissteed and drew back so as not to meet that centaur spreading death anddesolation. The brothers Senyut sprang at him; but the horse caught inits teeth the face of Andrei the younger and mashed it in the twinkleof an eye. Seeing this, the elder brother, Rafal, struck the beastabove the eyes; he wounded, but did not kill it, for the sabre hit thegreat bronze button on the forehead of the horse. At that momentBurdabut plunged a weapon under the beard of Senyut, and deprived himof life. So fell the two brothers, and lay in their gilded armor in thedust, under the hoofs of horses; but Burdabut rushed on like a flame tomore distant ranks, and struck in a flash the attendant of PrincePolubinski, a sixteen-year-old stripling, whose right shoulder he cutoff together with the arm. Seeing this, Pan Urbanski, wishing to avengethe death of a relative, tired at Burdabut in the very face, butmissed,--only shot away his ear and dashed him with blood. Terriblethen was Burdabut with his horse, both black as night, both coveredwith blood, both with wild eyes and distended nostrils, raging like atempest. And Pan Urbanski did not escape death; for like anexecutioner, Burdabut cut off his head with a blow, and the head of oldJitinski in his eightieth year, and the heads of the two Nikchemnis,each with one stroke. Others began to draw back with terror, especiallyas behind the Cossack gleamed a hundred Zaporojian sabres, and ahundred lances, already moistened in blood.

  The furious chief saw at last the voevoda, and giving an awful shout ofjoy, hurried toward him, hurling down horses and riders in his path.But the voevoda did not retreat. Trusting in his uncommon strength,puffing like a wounded wild boar, he raised the sword above his headand urging on his horse rushed to Burdabut. His end would have comewithout doubt,--and Fate had already caught in her shears the thread ofhis life, which she afterward cut in Okra--had not Silnitski, hissword-bearer, hurled himself like lightning on the Cossack and seizedhim by the waist before his sword was satisfied. While Burdabut wasputting him aside, the Kyerdeis shouted, summoning assistance for thevoevoda; several tens of people sprang forth at once, and separated himfrom Burdabut. Then a stubborn fight set in. But the wearied regimentsof the voevoda began to yield to greater Zaporojian strength, drawback, and break ranks, when Pan Kryshtof, under-judge of Bratslav, andPan Aksak hurried up with fresh regiments. True, new Cossack regimentsrushed in at that moment to the fight; but still below stood theprince, with the dragoons of Baranovski and the hussars of Skshetuski,who had taken no part as yet in the action.

  Then the bloody conflict raged anew. Darkness had already fallen, butflames had caught the outer houses of the town. The fire lighted thefield of struggle, and both lines, Polish and Cossack, were seendistinctly pounding each other at the foot of the hill; the colors ofthe standards could be seen, and even the faces of the men. Vershul,Ponyatovski, and Kushel had already been in fire and action; for havingfinished with the mob, they struck the Cossack wings, which under theirpressure began to move toward the hill. The long line of combatantsbent its ends toward the town, and began to extend out more and more;for when the Polish wings advanced, the centre, pressed by superiorCossack power, retreated toward the prince. Three new Cossack regimentswent to break it; but at that moment the prince pushed on Baranovski'sdragoons, and these raised the strength of the combatants.

  The hussars alone remained with the prince. From a distance they seemedlike a dark grove growing straight from the ground,--a terribleavalanche of iron men, horses, and lances. The breeze of eveningstirred the banners above their heads, and they stood quietly, notfretting for battle before the issue of command; patient, for trainedand experienced in many a fight they knew that their portion of bloodwould not miss them. The prince, in his silver armor, with gilded batonin hand, strained his eyes toward the battle; and on the left wingSkshetuski, standing a little sideways at the end,--being lieutenant,his sleeve was rolled up on his shoulder,--with arm bare to the elbow,and holding in his powerful hand a broadsword instead of a baton,waited calmly for the order.

  The prince shaded with his left hand his eyes from the glare of theburning. The centre of the Polish half-circle retreated graduallytoward him, overborne by superior power which was not long kept back byPan Baranovski,--the same who had razed Nyemiroff. The prince saw, asif on his hand, the heavy work of the soldiers. The long lightning ofsabres raised itself above the black line of heads, then vanished inthe blows. Riderless horses dropped out of that avalanche ofcombatants, and neighing ran along the plain with floating mane; theflames of the burning for a background, they were like beasts of hell.The red banner floating for a time over the throng fell suddenly torise no more; but the eye of the prince ran along the line of combat asfar as the hill toward the town, where at the head of two pickedregiments stood young Krivonos, waiting the moment to hurl himself onthe centre and break the weakened ranks of the Poles.

  At length he started, running with a terrible shout straight on thedragoons of Baranovski; but the prince was waiting for that moment too.

  "Lead on!" cried he to Skshetuski.

  Skshetuski raised his broadsword, and the iron host shot past.

  They did not run long, for the line of battle had approached themconsiderably. Baranovski's dragoons opened to the right and left withlightning speed to clear a way for the hussars against the Cossacks.The hussars swept through this pass with their whole momentum againstthe victorious companies of Krivonos.

  "Yeremi! Yeremi!" shouted the hussars.

  "Yeremi!" repeated the whole army.

  The terrible name contracted the hearts of the Zaporojians with ashudder of fear. In that moment they learned for the first time that itwas not the voevoda of Kieff who was leading, but the prince himself.Besides, they were unable to resist the hussars, who crushed them withtheir weight as falling walls crush people standing beneath. The onlysafety for them was to open toward both sides, let the hussars through,and then strike them on the flanks; but those flanks were alreadyguarded by the dragoons and light horse of Vershul, Kushel, andPonyatovski, who, having dislodged the Cossack wings, pushed them tothe centre. Now the form of battle changed, for the light regimentsbecame as it were the two sides of a street, along the centre of whichflew the hus
sars with wild impetus, driving, breaking, pushing,overturning men and horses; and before them fled bellowing and howlingthe Cossacks to the hill and the town. If the wing of Vershul had beenable to join the wing of Ponyatovski, the Cossacks would have beensurrounded and cut to pieces; but neither Vershul nor Ponyatovski couldmake the junction by reason of the exceeding rush of fugitives, whomthey struck, however, at the flanks till their arms grew weak fromcutting.

  Young Krivonos, though valiant and furious, when he understood that hisown inexperience had to meet such a leader as the prince, lost presenceof mind and fled at the head of others to the town. Pan Kushel, who wasnearsighted, standing at the flank, saw the fugitive, urged on hishorse, and gave the young leader a sabre-stroke in the face. He did notkill him, for his helmet turned the sword-edge; but he sprinkled himwith blood and deprived him still more of courage. He came near payingfor the deed with his life, for that moment Burdabut turned on him withthe remnant of the Kalnik regiment.

  Twice had Burdabut tried to make head against the hussars, but, twicepushed back and beaten by a power as if supernatural, he was obliged togive way with the rest. At last, having collected his men, hedetermined to strike Kushel on the flank and burst through his dragoonsto the open field; but before he could break them the road to the townand the hill was so packed with people that a quick retreat becameimpossible. The hussars, in view of this press of men, restrained theironset, and having broken their lances, began to hew with swords. Thenthere was a struggle, confused, disorderly, furious, merciless,seething in the press, uproar, and heat, amid the steam from men andhorses. Body fell upon body, horses' hoofs sank in the quiveringflesh. At points the masses were so dense that there was no room forsabre-strokes; so they fought with the hilts, with knives, with fists.Horses began to whine. Here and there voices were heard: "Mercy,Poles!" These voices grew louder, increased, outsounded the clash ofswords, the bite of iron on the bones of men, the groans and theterrible death-rattle of the perishing. "Mercy, mercy!" was heard withincreasing plaintiveness; but mercy shone not above that avalanche ofstragglers as the sun above a storm; only the flames of the town shoneabove them.

  But Burdabut at the head of the men of Kalnik asked for no mercy. Helacked room for battle. He opened a way with his dagger. He met the bigPan Dzik, and punching him in the stomach rolled him from his horse.Dzik, crying, "O Jesus!" raised himself no more from under the hoofswhich tore out his entrails. There was room enough at once. Burdabutlaid open with his sabre the head and helmet of Sokolski; then hebrought down, together with their horses, Pans Priyam and Chertovich,and there was still more room. Young Zenobius Skalski slashed at hishead, but the sabre turned in his hand and struck with its side.Burdabut gave Skalski a back-hand blow with his left fist in the face,and killed him on the spot. The men of Kalnik followed him, cutting andstabbing with their daggers. "A wizard! a wizard!" the hussars began tocry out. "Iron cannot harm him! he is frantic!" He had foam on hismustaches, and rage in his eyes. At last Burdabut saw Skshetuski, andrecognizing an officer by the upturned sleeve, rushed upon him.

  All held their breaths, and the battle stopped, looking at the struggleof the two terrible knights. Pan Yan was not frightened at the cry of"Wizard;" but anger boiled in his breast at the sight of so muchdestruction. He ground his teeth and pushed on the enemy with fury. Thehorses of both were thrown on their haunches. The whistle of steel washeard, and suddenly the sabre of the Cossack flew into pieces under theblow of the Polish sword. It seemed as if no power could save Burdabut,when he sprang and grappled with Skshetuski, so that both appeared toform one body, and a knife gleamed above the throat of the hussar.

  Death stood before the eyes of Pan Yan at that moment, for he could notuse his sword. But quick as lightning he dropped the sword, which hungby a strap, and seized the hand of the enemy in his own. For a whilethe two hands trembled convulsively in the air; but iron must have beenthe grip of Pan Yan, for the Cossack howled like a wolf, and before theeyes of all the knife fell from his stiffened fingers as grain issqueezed out of its husk. Skshetuski let drop the crushed hand, andgrasping the Cossack by the shoulder bent his terrible forehead to thepummel of the saddle, then drawing with his left hand the baton fromhis own belt, he struck once, twice. Burdabut coughed, and fell fromhis horse.

  At the sight of this the men of Kalnik groaned and hastened to takevengeance. Now the hussars sprang forward and cut them to pieces.

  At the other end of the hussar avalanche the battle did not cease for amoment, for the throng was less dense. Pan Longin, girt with Anusia'sscarf, raged with his broadsword. The morning after the battle theknights looked with wonder on those places, pointing out shoulders cutoff with armor, heads split from the forehead to the beard, bodies cutinto halves, an entire road of men and horses. They whispered to oneanother, "See, Podbipienta fought here!" The prince himself examinedthe bodies; and though that morning he was very much afflicted byvarious reports, he wondered, for he had never seen such blows in hislife.

  But meanwhile the battle seemed to approach its end. The heavy cavalrypushed on again, driving before it the Zaporojian regiments which wereseeking refuge in the direction of the hill and the town. The regimentsof Kushel and Ponyatovski barred return to the fugitives. Surrounded onall sides, they defended themselves to the very last; but with theirdeath they saved others, for two hours later when Volodyovski enteredthe place in advance with his Tartars of the guard, he did not find asingle Cossack. The enemy, taking advantage of the darkness,--for rainhad put out the fire,--had seized the empty wagons of the town in ahurry, and forming a train with that quickness peculiar to Cossacksalone, left the town, passed the river, and destroyed the bridgesbehind them.

  The few tens of nobles who had defended themselves in the castle wereliberated. Then the prince commanded Vershul to punish the townspeoplewho had joined the Cossacks, and set out in pursuit of the enemyhimself. But he could not capture the tabor without cannon andinfantry. The enemy having gained time by burning the bridges, for itwas necessary to go far along the river around a dam to cross,disappeared so quickly that the wearied horses of the prince's cavalrywere barely able to come up with them. Still the Cossacks, thoughfamous for fighting in tabors, did not defend themselves so bravely asusual. The terrible certainty that the prince himself was pursuingthem, so deprived them of courage that they despaired of escapealtogether. Their end would surely have come,--for after a wholenight's firing Baranovski had seized forty wagons and two cannon,--hadit not been for the voevoda of Kieff, who opposed further pursuit andwithdrew his men. Between him and the prince sharp words arose, whichwere heard by many of the colonels.

  "Why do you," asked the prince, "wish to let the enemy escape, when youshowed such bravery against them in battle? The glory which you wonyesterday, you have lost to-day by negligence."

  "I do not know," said the voevoda, "what spirit lives in you, but I ama man of flesh and blood. After labor I need rest; so do my men. Ishall always attack the enemy as I have to-day, when they present afront, but I will not pursue them when defeated and fleeing."

  "Cut them to pieces!" shouted the prince.

  "What will come of that work?" asked the voevoda. "If we destroy thesepeople, the elder Krivonos will come, burn, destroy, kill, as his sonhas in Strijavka, and innocent people will suffer for our rage."

  "Oh, I see," said the prince, with anger, "you belong with thechancellor and with those commanders of theirs, to the peace faction,which would put down rebellion through negotiations; but, by the livingGod, nothing will come of that as long as I have a sabre in my fist!"

  To this Tishkyevich answered: "I belong not to a faction, but toGod,--for I am an old man, and shall soon have to stand before him; andbe not surprised if I do not wish to have too great a burden of blood,shed in civil war, weighing me down. If you are angry because thecommand passed you by, then I say that for bravery the command belongedto you rightly. Still perhaps it is better that they did not give it toyou, for you would have drowned not the rebellion alone in blood
, butwith it this unhappy country."

  The Jupiter brows of Yeremi contracted, his neck swelled, and his eyesbegan to throw out such lightning that all present were alarmed for thevoevoda; but at that moment Pan Yan approached quickly, and said,--

  "Your Highness, there is news of the elder Krivonos."

  Immediately the thoughts of the prince were turned in anotherdirection, and his anger against the voevoda decreased. In the meanwhile four men were brought in who had come with tidings. Two of themwere orthodox priests, who on seeing the prince threw themselves ontheir knees before him.

  "Save us! save us!" cried they, stretching their hands to him.

  "Whence do you come?"

  "We are from Polonnoe. The elder Krivonos has invested the castle andthe town; if your sabre is not raised above his neck, we shall allperish."

  The prince answered: "I know that a mass of people have taken refugethere in Polonnoe, but mostly Russians, as I am informed. Your meritbefore God is that instead of joining the rebellion you oppose it andremain with your mother the Commonwealth; still I fear some treason onyour part, such as I found in Nyemiroff."

  Thereupon the envoys began to swear by all the saints in heaven thatthey were waiting for him as a savior, as prince, and that there wasnot a thought of treason in them. They spoke the truth; for Krivonos,having surrounded them with fifty thousand men, vowed their destructionfor this special reason,--that, being Russians, they would not join therebellion.

  The prince promised them aid; but since his main forces were inBystrika, he was obliged to wait. The envoys went away with consolationin their hearts. The prince turned to the voevoda, and said,--

  "Pardon me! I see now that we must let the young Krivonos go, so as tocatch the old one. I judge therefore that you will not leave me in thisundertaking."

  "Of course not!" answered the voevoda.

  Then the trumpets sounded the retreat to the regiments who had followedthe Cossacks. It was necessary to rest and eat, and let the horses drawbreath. In the evening a whole division arrived from Bystrika, and withit Pan Stakhovich, an envoy from the voevoda of Bratslav. Pan Kiselwrote the prince a letter full of homage, saying that like a secondMarius he was saving the country from the last abyss; he wrote also ofthe joy which the arrival of the prince from the Trans-Dnieper rousedin all hearts, and wished him success; but at the end of the letterappeared the reason for which it was written. Kisel stated thatnegotiations had been begun, that he with other commissioners was goingto Belaya Tserkoff, and had hopes of restraining and satisfyingHmelnitski. Finally he begged the prince not to press so hard on theCossacks before negotiations, and to desist from military action as faras possible.

  If the prince had been told that all his Trans-Dnieper possessions weredestroyed, and all the towns levelled to the earth, he would not havebeen pained so acutely as he was over that letter. Skshetuski,Baranovski, Zatsvilikhovski, the two Tishkyevichi, and the Kyerdeiswere present. The prince covered his eyes with his hands, and pushedback his head as if an arrow had struck him in the heart.

  "Disgrace! disgrace! God grant me to die rather than behold suchthings!"

  Deep silence reigned among those present, and the prince continued,--

  "I do not wish to live in this Commonwealth, for to-day I must beashamed of it. The Cossack and the peasant mob have poured blood on thecountry, and joined pagandom against their own mother. The hetmans arebeaten, the armies swept away. The fame of the nation is trampled upon,its majesty insulted, churches are burned, priests and nobles cut down,women dishonored, and what answer does the Commonwealth give to allthese defeats and this shame, at the very remembrance of which ourancestors would have died? Here it is! She begins negotiations with thetraitor, the disgracer, the ally of the Pagan, and offers himsatisfaction. Oh, God grant me death! I repeat it, since there is nolife in the world for us who feel the dishonor of our country and bringour heads as a sacrifice for it."

  The voevoda of Kieff was silent, and the under-judge of Bratslavanswered after a while,--

  "Pan Kisel does not compose the Commonwealth."

  "Do not speak to me of Pan Kisel," said the prince; "for I know wellthat he has a whole party behind him. He has struck the mind of theprimate, the chancellor, and Prince Dominik, and many lords who to-dayin the interregnum bear rule in the Commonwealth and represent itsmajesty, but rather disgrace it by weakness unworthy of a great people;for this conflagration is to be quenched by blood, and not bynegotiations, since it is better for a knightly nation to perish thanto become low-lived and rouse the contempt of the whole world forthemselves."

  The prince again covered his eyes with his hands. The sight of thatpain and sorrow was so sad that the colonels knew not what to do byreason of the tears that came into their eyes.

  "Your Highness," Zatsvilikhovski made bold to say, "let them use theirtongues; we will continue to use our swords."

  "True," answered the prince; "and my heart is rent with the thought ofwhat we shall do farther on. When we heard of the defeat of our countrywe came through burning forests and impassable swamps, neither sleepingnor eating, using the last power we had to save our mother fromdestruction and disgrace. Our hands drop down from toil, hunger isgnawing our entrails, wounds are torturing us, but we regard no toil ifwe can only stop the enemy. They say that I am angry because commandhas not come to me. Let the whole world judge if those are more fittedfor it who got it; but I, gentlemen, take God and you to witness that Ias well as you do not bring my blood in sacrifice for rewards anddignities, but out of pure love for the country. But when we are givingthe last breath in our bodies, what do they tell us? Well, that thegentlemen in Warsaw, and Pan Kisel in Gushchi are thinking ofsatisfaction for our enemy. Infamy, infamy!"

  "Kisel is a traitor!" cried Baranovski.

  Thereupon Pan Stakhovich, a man of dignity and courage, rose, andturning to Baranovski, said,--

  "Being a friend of the voevoda of Bratslav, and an envoy from him, Ipermit no man to call him a traitor. His beard too has grown gray fromtrouble, and he serves his country according to his understanding,--itmay be mistakenly, but honorably!"

  The prince did not hear this answer, for he was plunged in meditationand in pain. Baranovski did not dare to pick a quarrel in his presence;he only fastened his eyes steadily on Pan Stakhovich, as if wishing tosay, "I shall find you," and put his hand on his sword-hilt.

  Meanwhile Yeremi recovered from his revery, and said gloomily: "Thereis no other choice but to fail in upholding obedience (for during theinterregnum they are the government) or the honor of our country forwhich we are laboring to devote--"

  "From disobedience flows all the evil in the Commonwealth," said thevoevoda of Kieff, with seriousness.

  "Are we therefore to permit the disgrace of our country? And ifto-morrow we are commanded to go with ropes around our necks to TugaiBey and Hmelnitski, are we to do that for obedience' sake?"

  "Veto!" called Pan Kryshtof.

  "Veto!" repeated Kyerdei.

  The prince turned to the colonels. "Speak, veterans!" said he.

  Pan Zatsvilikhovski began: "Your Highness, I am seventy years old. I aman orthodox Russian, I was a Cossack commissioner, and Hmelnitskihimself called me father, and ought rather to speak for negotiations;but if I have to speak for _disgrace_ or _war_, then till I go to thegrave I shall say war!"

  "War!" said Skshetuski.

  "War, war!" repeated several voices, in fact those of all present."War, war!"

  "Let it be according to your words," said the prince, seriously; and hestruck the open letter of Kisel with his baton.