The Deluge: An Historical Novel of Poland, Sweden, and Russia. Vol. 1 (of 2)

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The Deluge: An Historical Novel of Poland, Sweden, and Russia. Vol. 1 (of 2) Page 15

by Henryk Sienkiewicz


  CHAPTER XI.

  Usually when the warm rays of the sun begin to break through the wintryveil of clouds, and when the first buds appear on the trees and thegreen fleece spreads over the damp fields, a better hope enters thehearts of men. But the spring of 1655 brought not the usual comfort tothe afflicted inhabitants of the Commonwealth. The entire easternboundary, from the north to the wilderness on the south, was bound asit were by a border of flame; and the spring torrents could not quenchthe conflagration, but that border grew wider continually and occupiedbroader regions. And besides there appeared in the sky signs of evilomen, announcing still greater defeats and misfortunes. Time after timefrom the clouds which swept over the heavens were formed as it werelofty towers like the flanks of fortresses, which afterward rolled downwith a crash. Thunderbolts struck the earth while it was still coveredwith snow, pine-woods became yellow, and the limbs of trees crossed oneanother in strange sickly figures; wild beasts and birds fell down anddied from unknown diseases. Finally, strange spots were seen on thesun, having the form of a hand holding an apple, of a heart piercedthrough, and a cross. The minds of men were disturbed more and more;monks were lost in calculating what these signs might mean. A wonderfulkind of disquiet seized all hearts.

  New and sudden wars were foretold, God knows from what source. Anominous report began to circulate from mouth to mouth in villages andtowns that a tempest was coming from the side of the Swedes. Apparentlynothing seemed to confirm this report, for the truce concluded withSweden had six years yet to run; and still people spoke of the dangerof war, even at the Diet, which Yan Kazimir the king had called on May19 in Warsaw.

  Anxious eyes were turned more and more to Great Poland, on which thestorm would come first. Leshchynski, the voevoda of Lenchytsk, andNarushevich, chief secretary of Lithuania, went on an embassy toSweden; but their departure, instead of quieting the alarmed, increasedstill more the disquiet.

  "That embassy smells of war," wrote Yanush Radzivill.

  "If a storm were not threatening from that direction, why were theysent?" asked others.

  Kanazyl, the first ambassador, had barely returned from Stockholm; butit was to be seen clearly that he had done nothing, since immediatelyafter him important senators were sent.

  However people of more judgment did not believe yet in the possibilityof war. "The Commonwealth," said they, "has given no cause, and thetruce endures in full validity. How could oaths be broken, the mostsacred agreements violated, and a harmless neighbor attacked in robberfashion? Besides, Sweden remembers the wounds inflicted by the Polishsabre at Kirchholm and Putsk; and Gustavus Adolphus, who in westernEurope found not his equal, yielded a number of times to PanKonyetspolski. The Swedes will not expose such great military glory wonin the world to uncertain hazard before an opponent against whom theyhave never been able to stand in the field. It is true that theCommonwealth is exhausted and weakened by war; but Prussia and GreatPoland, which in the last wars did not suffer at all, will ofthemselves be able to drive that hungry people beyond the sea to theirbarren rocks. There will be no war."

  To this alarmists answered again that even before the Diet at Warsawcounsel was taken by advice of the king at the provincial diet inGrodno concerning the defence of the boundary of Great Poland, andtaxes and soldiers assigned, which would not have been done unlessdanger was near.

  And so minds were wavering between fear and hope; a grievousuncertainty weighed down the spirits of people, when suddenly an endwas put to it by the proclamation of Boguslav Leshchynski, commander inGreat Poland, summoning the general militia of the provinces of Poznanand Kalisk for the defence of the boundaries against the impendingSwedish storm.

  Every doubt vanished. The shout, "War!" was heard throughout GreatPoland and all the lands of the Commonwealth.

  That was not only a war, but a new war. Hmelnitski, reinforced byButurlin, was raging in the south and the east; Hovanski and Trubetskoion the north and east; the Swede was approaching from the west! Thefiery border had become a fiery wheel.

  The country was like a besieged camp; and in the camp evil washappening. One traitor, Radzeyovski, had fled from it, and was in thetent of the invaders. He was guiding them to ready spoil, he waspointing out the weak sides; it was his work to tempt the garrisons.And in addition there was no lack of ill will and envy,--no lack ofmagnates quarrelling among themselves or angry with the king by reasonof offices refused, and ready at any moment to sacrifice the cause ofthe nation to their own private profit; there was no lack of dissidentswishing to celebrate their own triumph even on the grave of thefatherland; and a still greater number was there of the disorderly, theheedless, the slothful, and of those who were in love with themselves,their own ease and well being.

  Still Great Poland, a country wealthy and hitherto untouched by war,did not spare at least money for defence. Towns and villages of noblesfurnished as many infantry as were assigned to them; and before thenobles moved in their own persons to the camp many-colored regiments ofland infantry had moved thither under the leadership of captainsappointed by the provincial diet from among men experienced in the artof war.

  Tan Stanislav Dembinski led the land troops of Poznan, Pan VladyslavVlostovski those of Kostsian, and Pan Golts, a famous soldier andengineer, those of Valets. The peasants of Kalisk were commanded by PanStanislav Skshetuski, from a stock of valiant warriors, a cousin of thefamous Yan from Zbaraj. Pan Katsper Jyhlinski led the millers andbailiffs of Konin. From Pyzdri marched Pan Stanislav Yarachevski, whohad spent his youth in foreign wars; from Ktsyna, Pan PyotrSkorashevski, and from Naklo, Pan Kosletski. But in military experienceno one was equal to Pan Vladyslav Skorashevski, whose voice waslistened to even by the commander in Great Poland himself and thevoevodas.

  In three places--at Pila, Uistsie, Vyelunie--had the captains fixed thelines on the Notets, waiting for the arrival of the nobles summoned tothe general militia. The infantry dug trenches from morning tillevening, looking continually toward the rear to see if the wished forcavalry were coming.

  The first dignitary who came was Pan Andrei Grudzinski, voevoda ofKalisk. He lodged in the house of the mayor, with a numerous retinue ofservants arrayed in white and blue colors. He expected that the noblesof Kalisk would gather round him straightway; but when no one appearedhe sent for Captain Stanislav Skshetuski, who was occupied in diggingtrenches at the river.

  "Where are my men?" asked he, after the first greetings of the captain,whom he had known from childhood.

  "What men?" asked Pan Stanislav.

  "The general militia of Kalisk."

  A smile of pain mingled with contempt appeared on the swarthy face ofthe soldier.

  "Serene great mighty voevoda," said he, "this is the time for shearingsheep, and in Dantzig they will not pay for badly washed wool. Everynoble is now at a pond washing or weighing, thinking correctly that theSwedes will not run away."

  "How is that?" asked the troubled voevoda; "is there no one here yet?"

  "Not a living soul, except the land infantry. And, besides, the harvestis near. A good manager will not leave home at such a season."

  "What do you tell me?"

  "But the Swedes will not run away, they will only come nearer,"repeated the captain.

  The pock-pitted face of the voevoda grew suddenly purple. "What are theSwedes to me? But this will be a shame for me in the presence of theother lords if I am here alone like a finger."

  Pan Stanislav laughed again: "Your grace will permit me to remark,"said he, "that the Swedes are the main thing here, and shame afterward.Besides, there will be no shame; for not only the nobles of Kalisk, butall other nobles, are absent."

  "They have run mad!" exclaimed Grudzinski.

  "No; but they are sure of this,--if they will not go to the Swedes, theSwedes will not fail to come to them."

  "Wait!" said the voevoda. And clapping his hands for an attendant, hegave command to bring ink, pen, and paper; then he sat down and beganto write. In half an our he had co
vered the paper; he struck it withhis hand, and said,--

  "I will send another call for them to be here at the latest _pro die 27praesentis_ (on the 27th of the present month), and I think that surelythey will wish at this last date _non deesse patriae_ (not to fail thecountry). And now tell me have you any news of the enemy?"

  "We have. Wittemberg is mustering his troops on the fields at Dama."

  "Are there many?"

  "Some say seventeen thousand, others more."

  "H'm! then there will not be so many of ours. What is your opinion?Shall we be able to oppose them?"

  "If the nobles do not appear, there is nothing to talk about."

  "They will come; why should they not come? It is a known fact that thegeneral militia always delay. But shall we be able to succeed with theaid of the nobles?"

  "No," replied Pan Stanislav, coolly. "Serene great mighty voevoda, wehave no soldiers."

  "How no soldiers?"

  "Your grace knows as well as I that all the regular troops are in theUkraine. Not even two squadrons were sent here, though at this momentGod alone knows which storm is greater."

  "But the infantry, and the general militia?"

  "Of twenty peasants scarcely one has seen war; of ten, one knows how tohold a gun. After the first war they will be good soldiers, but theyare not soldiers now. And as to the general militia let your grace askany man who knows even a little about war whether the general militiacan stand before regulars, and besides such soldiers as the Swedes,veterans of the whole Lutheran war, and accustomed to victory."

  "Do you exalt the Swedes, then, so highly above your own?"

  "I do not exalt them above my own; for if there were fifteen thousandsuch men here as were at Zbaraj, quarter soldiers and cavalry, I shouldhave no fear. But with such as we have God knows whether we can doanything worth mention."

  The voevoda placed his hands on his knees, and looked quickly into theeyes of Pan Stanislav, as if wishing to read some hidden thought inthem. "What have we come here for, then? Do you not think it better toyield?"

  Pan Stanislav spat in answer, and said: "If such a thought as that hasrisen in my head, let your grace give command to impale me on a stake.To the question do I believe in victory I answer, as a soldier, that Ido not. But why we have come here,--that is another question, to whichas a citizen I will answer. To offer the enemy the first resistance, sothat by detaining them we shall enable the rest of the country to makeready and march, to restrain the invasion with our bodies until we fallone on the other."

  "Your intention is praiseworthy," answered the voevoda, coldly; "but itis easier for you soldiers to talk about death than for us, on whomwill fall all the responsibility for so much noble blood shed in vain."

  "What is noble blood for unless to be shed?"

  "That is true, of course. We are ready to die, for that is the easiestthing of all. But duty commands us, the men whom providence has madeleaders, not to seek our own glory merely, but also to look forresults. War is as good as begun, it is true; but still CarolusGustavus is a relative of our king, and must remember this fact.Therefore it is necessary to try negotiations, for sometimes more canbe effected by speech than by arms."

  "That does not pertain to me," said Pan Stanislav, dryly.

  Evidently the same thought occurred to the voevoda at that moment, forhe nodded and dismissed the captain.

  Pan Stanislav, however, was only half right in what he said concerningthe delay of the nobles summoned to the general militia. It was truethat before sheep-shearing was over few came to the camp between Pilaand Uistsie; but toward the 27th of June,--that is, the date mentionedin the second summons--they began to assemble in numbers considerableenough.

  Every day clouds of dust, rising by reason of the dry and settledweather, announced the approach of fresh reinforcements one afteranother. And the nobles travelled noisily on horses, on wheels, andwith crowds of servants, with provisions, with wagons, and abundance onthem of every kind of thing, and so loaded with weapons that many a mancarried arms of every description for three lances, muskets, pistols,sabres, double-handed swords and hussar hammers, out of use even inthat time, for smashing armor. Old soldiers recognized at once by theseweapons men unaccustomed to war and devoid of experience.

  Of all the nobles inhabiting the Commonwealth just those of GreatPoland were the least warlike. Tartars, Turks, and Cossacks had nevertrampled those regions which from the time of the Knights of the Crosshad almost forgotten how war looked in the country. Whenever a noble ofGreat Poland felt the desire for war he joined the armies of thekingdom, and fought there as well as the best; but those who preferredto stay at home became real householders, in love with wealth and withease,--real agriculturists, filling with their wool and especially withtheir wheat the markets of Prussian towns. But now when the Swedishstorm swept them away from their peaceful pursuits, they thought itimpossible to pile up too many arms, provide too great supplies, ortake too many servants to protect the persons and goods of the master.

  They were marvellous soldiers, whom the captains could not easily bringto obedience. For example, one would present himself with a lancenineteen feet long, with a breastplate on his breast, but with a strawhat on his head "for coolness;" another in time of drill would complainof the heat; a third would yawn, eat, or drink; a fourth would call hisattendant; and all who were in the ranks thought it nothing out of theway to talk so loudly that no man could hear the command of an officer.And it was difficult to introduce discipline, for it offended thebrotherhood terribly, as being opposed to the dignity of a citizen. Itis true that "articles" were proclaimed, but no one would obey them.

  An iron ball on the feet of this army was the innumerable legion ofwagons, of reserve and draft horses, of cattle intended for food, andespecially of the multitude of servants guarding the tents, utensils,millet, grits, hash, and causing on the least occasion quarrels anddisturbance.

  Against such an army as this was advancing from the side of Stettin andthe plains on the Oder, Arwid Wittemberg, an old leader, whose youthhad been passed in the thirty years' war; he came at the head ofseventeen thousand veterans bound together by iron discipline.

  On one side stood the disordered Polish camp, resembling a crowd at acountry fair, vociferous, full of disputes, discussions about thecommands of leaders, and of dissatisfaction; composed of worthyvillagers turned into prospective infantry, and nobles taken straightfrom sheep-shearing. From the other side marched terrible, silentquadrangles, which at one beck of their leaders turned, with theprecision of machines, into lines and half-circles, unfolding intowedges and triangles as regularly as a sword moves in the hands of afencer, bristling with musket-barrels and darts: genuine men of war,cool, calm; real masters who had attained perfection in their art. Whoamong men of experience could doubt the outcome of the meeting and onwhose side the victory must fall?

  The nobles, however, were assembling in greater and greater numbers;and still earlier the dignitaries of Great Poland and other provincesbegan to meet, bringing bodies of attendant troops and servants. Soonafter the arrival of Pan Grudzinski at Pila came Pan KryshtofOpalinski, the powerful voevoda of Poznan. Three hundred haiduks in redand yellow uniforms and armed with muskets went before the carriage ofthe voevoda; a crowd of attendant nobles surrounded his worthy person;following them in order of battle came a division of horsemen withuniforms similar to those of the haiduks; the voevoda himself was in acarriage attended by a jester, Staha Ostrojka, whose duty it was tocheer his gloomy master on the road.

  The entrance of such a great dignitary gave courage and consolation toall; for those who looked on the almost kingly majesty of the voevoda,on that lordly face in which under the lofty vaulting of the foreheadthere gleamed eyes wise and severe, and on the senatorial dignity ofhis whole posture, could hardly believe that any evil fate could cometo such power.

  To those accustomed to give honor to office and to person it seemedthat even the Swedes themselves would not dare to raise a sacrilegioushand agai
nst such a magnate. Even those whose hearts were beating intheir breasts with alarm felt safer at once under his wing. He wasgreeted therefore joyfully and warmly; shouts thundered along thestreet through which the retinue pushed slowly toward the house of themayor, and all heads inclined before the voevoda, who was as visible ason the palm of the hand through the windows of the gilded carriage. Tothese bows Ostrojka answered, as well as the voevoda, with the sameimportance and gravity as if they had been given exclusively to him.

  Barely had the dust settled after the passage of Opalinski whencouriers rushed in with the announcement that his cousin was coming,the voevoda of Podlyasye, Pyotr Opalinski, with his brother-in-lawYakob Rozdrajevski, the voevoda of Inovratslav. These brought each ahundred and fifty armed men, besides nobles and servants. Then not aday passed without the arrival of dignitaries such as SendzivoiCharnkovski, the brother-in-law of Krishtof Opalinski, and himselfcastellan of Kalisk; Maksymilian Myaskovski, the castellan of Kryvinsk;and Pavel Gembitski, the lord of Myendzyrechka. The town was so filledwith people that houses failed for the lodging even of nobles. Theneighboring meadows were many-colored with the tents of the generalmilitia. One might say that all the various colored birds had flown toPila from the entire Commonwealth. Red, green, blue, azure, white weregleaming on the various coats and garments; for leaving aside thegeneral militia, in which each noble wore a dress different from hisneighbor, leaving aside the servants of the magnates, even the infantryof each district were dressed in their own colors.

  Shop-keepers came too, who, unable to find places in the market-square,built a row of booths by the side of the town, on these they soldmilitary supplies, from clothing to arms and food. Field-kitchens weresteaming day and night, bearing away in the steam the odor of hash,roast meat, millet; in some liquors were sold. Nobles swarmed in frontof the booths, armed not only with swords but with spoons, eating,drinking, and discussing, now the enemy not yet to be seen, and now theincoming dignitaries, on whom nicknames were not spared.

  Among the groups of nobles walked Ostrojka, in a dress made ofparty-colored rags, carrying a sceptre ornamented with bells, and withthe mien of a simple rogue. Wherever he showed himself men came aroundin a circle, and he poured oil on the fire, helped them to backbite thedignitaries, and gave riddles over which the nobles held their sidesfrom laughter, the more firmly the more biting the riddles.

  On a certain midday the voevoda of Poznan himself came to the bazaar,speaking courteously with this one and that, or blaming the kingsomewhat because in the face of the approaching enemy he had not sent asingle squadron of soldiers.

  "They are not thinking of us, worthy gentlemen," said he, "and leave uswithout assistance. They say in Warsaw that even now there are too fewtroops in the Ukraine, and that the hetmans are not able to make headagainst Hmelnitski. Ah, it is difficult! It is pleasanter to see theUkraine than Great Poland. We are in disfavor, worthy gentlemen, indisfavor! They have delivered us here as it were to be slaughtered."

  "And who is to blame?" asked Pan Shlihtyng, the judge of Vskov.

  "Who is to blame for all the misfortunes of the Commonwealth," askedthe voevoda,--"who, unless we brother nobles who shield it with ourbreasts?"

  The nobles, hearing this, were greatly flattered that the "Count inBnino and Opalenitsa" put himself on an equality with them, andrecognized himself in brotherhood; hence Pan Koshutski answered,--

  "Serene great mighty voevoda, if there were more such counsellors asyour grace near his Majesty, of a certainty we should not be deliveredto slaughter here; but probably those give counsel who bow lower."

  "I thank you, brothers, for the good word. The fault is his who listensto evil counsellors. Our liberties are as salt in the eye to thosepeople. The more nobles fall, the easier will it be to introduce_absolutum dominium_ (absolute rule)."

  "Must we die, then, that our children may groan in slavery?"

  The voevoda said nothing, and the nobles began to look at one anotherand wonder.

  "Is that true then?" cried many. "Is that the reason why they sent ushere under the knife? And we believe! This is not the first day thatthey are talking about _absolutum dominium_. But if it comes to that,we shall be able to think of our own heads."

  "And of our children."

  "And of our fortunes, which the enemy will destroy _igne et ferro_(with fire and sword)."

  The voevoda was silent. In a marvellous manner did this leader add tothe courage of his soldiers.

  "The king is to blame for all!" was shouted more and more frequently.

  "But do you remember, gentlemen, the history of Yan Olbracht?" askedthe voevoda.

  "The nobles perished for King Olbracht. Treason, brothers!"

  "The king is a traitor!" cried some bold voices.

  The voevoda was silent.

  Now Ostrojka, standing by the side of the voevoda, struck himself anumber of times on the legs, and crowed like a cock with suchshrillness that all eyes were turned to him. Then he shouted, "Graciouslords! brothers, dear hearts! listen to my riddle."

  With the genuine fickleness of March weather, the stormy militiachanged in one moment to curiosity and desire to hear some new strokeof wit from the jester.

  "We hear! we hear!" cried a number of voices.

  The jester began to wink like a monkey and to recite in a squeakingvoice,--

  "After his brother he solace! himself with a crown and a wife, But let pilory go down to the grave with his brother. He drove out the vice-chancellor; hence now has the fame Of being vice-chancellor to--the vice-chancellor's wife."

  "The king! the king! As alive! Yan Kazimir!" they began to cry fromevery side; and laughter, mighty as thunder, was heard in the crowd.

  "May the bullets strike him, what a masterly explanation!" cried thenobles.

  The voevoda laughed with the others, and when it had grown somewhatcalm he said, with increased dignity: "And for this affair we must paynow with our blood and our heads. See what it has come to! Here,jester, is a ducat for thy good verse."

  "Kryshtofek! Krysh dearest!" said Ostrojka, "why attack others becausethey keep jesters, when thou not only keepest me, but payest separatelyfor riddles? Give me another ducat and I'll tell thee another riddle."

  "Just as good?"

  "As good, only longer. Give me the ducat first."

  "Here it is!"

  The jester slapped his sides with his hands, as a cockwith his wings, crowed again, and cried out, "Gracious gentlemen,listen! Who is this?"

  "He complains of self-seeking, stands forth as a Cato; Instead of a sabre he took a goose's tail-feather He wanted the legacy of a traitor, and not getting that He lashed the whole Commonwealth with a biting rhyme.

  "God grant him love for the sabre! less woe would it bring. Of his satire the Swedes have no fear. But he has barely tasted the hardships of war When following a traitor he is ready to betray his king."

  All present guessed that riddle as well as the first. Two or threelaughs, smothered at the same instant, were heard in the assembly; thena deep silence fell.

  The voevoda grew purple, and he was the more confused in that all eyeswere fixed on him at that moment. But the jester looked on one nobleand then on another; at last he said, "None of you gentlemen can guesswho that is?"

  When silence was the only answer, he turned with the most insolent miento the voevoda: "And thou, dost thou too not know of what rascal thespeech is? Dost thou not know? Then pay me a ducat."

  "Here!" said the voevoda.

  "God reward thee. But tell me, Krysh, hast thou not perchance tried toget the vice-chancellorship after Radzeyovski?"

  "No time for jests," replied Opalinski; and removing his cap to allpresent: "With the forehead, gentlemen! I must go to the council ofwar."

  "To the family council thou didst wish to say, Krysh," added Ostrojka;"for there all thy relatives will hold council how to be off." Then heturned to the nobles and imitating the voevoda in his bows, he added,"
And to you, gentlemen, that's the play."

  Both withdrew; but they had barely gone a few steps when an immenseoutburst of laughter struck the ears of the voevoda, and thundered longbefore it was drowned in the general noise of the camp.

  The council of war was held in fact, and the voevoda of Poznanpresided. That was a strange council! Those very dignitaries took partin it who knew nothing of war; for the magnates of Great Poland did notand could not follow the example of those "kinglets" of Lithuania orthe Ukraine who lived in continual fire like salamanders.

  In Lithuania or the Ukraine whoever was a voevoda or a chancellor was aleader whose armor pressed out on his body red stripes which never leftit, whose youth was spent in the steppes or the forests on the easternborder, in ambushes, battles, struggles, pursuits, in camp or intabors. In Great Poland at this time dignitaries were in office who,though they had marched in times of necessity with the general militia,had never held positions of command in time of war. Profound peace hadput to sleep the military courage of the descendants of those warriors,before whom in former days the iron legions of the Knights of the Crosswere unable to stand, and turned them into civilians, scholars, andwriters. Now the stern school of Sweden was teaching them what they hadforgotten.

  The dignitaries assembled in council looked at one another withuncertain eyes, and each feared to speak first, waiting for what"Agamemnon," voevoda of Poznan, would say.

  But "Agamemnon" himself knew simply nothing, and began his speech againwith complaints of the ingratitude and sloth of the king, of thefrivolity with which all Great Poland and they were delivered to thesword. But how eloquent was he; what a majestic figure did he present,worthy in truth of a Roman senator! He held his head erect whilespeaking; his dark eyes shot lightnings, his mouth thunderbolts; hisiron-gray beard trembled with excitement when he described the futuremisfortunes of the land.

  "For in what does the fatherland suffer," said he, "if not in its sons?and we here suffer, first of all. Through our private lands, throughour private fortunes won by the services and blood of our ancestors,will advance the feet of those enemies who now like a storm areapproaching from the sea. And why do we suffer? For what will they takeour herds, trample our harvests, burn our villages built by our labor?Have we wronged Radzeyovski, who, condemned unjustly, hunted like acriminal, had to seek the protection of strangers? No! Do we insistthat that empty title 'King of Sweden,' which has cost so much bloodalready, should remain with the signature of our Yan Kazimir? No! Twowars are blazing on two boundaries; was it needful to call forth athird? Who was to blame, may God, may the country judge him! We washour hands, for we are innocent of the blood which will be shed."

  And thus the voevoda thundered on further; but when it came to thequestion in hand he was not able to give the desired advice.

  They sent then for the captains leading the land infantry, andspecially for Vladyslav Skorashevski, who was not only a famous andincomparable knight, but an old, practised soldier, knowing war as hedid the Lord's Prayer. In fact, genuine leaders listened frequently tohis advice; all the more eagerly was it sought for now.

  Pan Skorashevski advised then to establish three camps,--at Pila,Vyelunie, and Uistsie,--so near one another that in time of attack theymight give mutual aid, and besides this to cover with trenches thewhole extent of the river-bank occupied by a half-circle of camps whichwere to command the passage.

  "When we know," said Skorashevski, "the place where the enemy willattempt the crossing, we shall unite from all three camps and give himproper resistance. But I with the permission of your great mightylordships, will go with a small party to Chaplinko. That is a lostposition, and in time I shall withdraw from it; but there I shall firstget knowledge of the enemy, and then will inform your great mightylordships."

  All accepted this counsel, and men began to move around somewhat morebriskly in the camp. At last the nobles assembled to the number offifteen thousand. The land infantry dug trenches over an extent of sixmiles. Uistsie, the chief position, was occupied by the voevoda ofPoznan and his men. A part of the knights remained in Vyelunie, a partin Pila, and Vladyslav Skorashevski went to Chaplinko to observe theenemy.

  July began; all the days were clear and hot. The sun burned on theplains so violently that the nobles hid in the woods between the trees,under the shade of which some of them gave orders to set up theirtents. There also they had noisy and boisterous feasts; and still moreof an uproar was made by the servants, especially at the time ofwashing and watering the horses which, to the number of severalthousand at once, were driven thrice each day to the Notets and Berda,quarrelling and fighting for the best approach to the bank. But in thebeginning there was a good spirit in the camp; only the voevoda ofPoznan himself acted rather to weaken it.

  If Wittemberg had come in the first days of July, it is likely that hewould have met a mighty resistance, which in proportion as the menwarmed to battle might have been turned into an invincible rage, ofwhich there were often examples. For still there flowed knightly bloodin the veins of these people, though they had grown unaccustomed towar.

  Who knows if another Yeremi Vishnyevetski might not have changedUistsie into another Zbaraj, and described in those trenches a newillustrious career of knighthood? Unfortunately the voevoda of Poznanwas a man who could only write; he knew nothing of war.

  Wittemberg, a leader knowing not merely war but men, did not hasten,perhaps on purpose. Experience of long years had taught him that anewly enrolled soldier is most dangerous in the first moments ofenthusiasm, and that often not bravery is lacking to him, but soldierlyendurance, which practice alone can develop. More than once have newsoldiers struck like a storm on the oldest regiments, and passed overtheir corpses. They are iron which while it is hot quivers, lives,scatters sparks, burns, destroys, but which when it grows cold is amere lifeless lump.

  In fact, when a week had passed, a second, and the third had come, longinactivity began to weigh upon the general militia. The heat becamegreater each day. The nobles would not go to drill, and gave as excusethat their horses tormented by flies would not stand in line, and as tomarshy places they could not live from mosquitoes. Servants raisedgreater and greater quarrels about shady places, concerning which itcame to sabres among their masters. This or that one coming home in theevening from the water rode off to one side from the camp not toreturn.

  Evil example from above was also not wanting. Pan Skorashevski hadgiven notice from Chaplinko that the Swedes were not distant, when atthe military council Zygmunt Grudzinski got leave to go home; on thisleave his uncle Andrei Grudzinski, voevoda of Kalisk, had greatlyinsisted. "I have to lay down my head and my life here," said he; "letmy nephew inherit after me my memory and glory, so that my services maynot be lost." Then he grew tender over the youth and innocence of hisnephew, praising the liberality with which he had furnished one hundredvery choice soldiers; and the military council granted the prayer ofthe uncle.

  On the morning of July 16, Zygmunt with a few servants left the campopenly for home, on the eve almost of a siege and a battle. Crowds ofnobles conducted him amid jeering cries to a distance beyond the camp.Ostrojka led the party, and shouted from afar after the departing,--

  "Worthy Pan Zygmunt, I give thee a shield, and as third nameDeest!"[13]

  "Vivat Deest-Grudzinski!"

  "But weep not for thy uncle," continued Ostrojka. "He despises theSwedes as much as thou; and let them only show themselves, he willsurely turn his back on them."

  The blood of the young magnate rushed to his face, but he pretended notto hear the insults. He put spurs to his horse, however, and pushedaside the crowds, so as to be away from the camp and his persecutors assoon as possible, who at last, without consideration for the birth anddignity of the departing, began to throw clods of earth at him and tocry,--

  "Here is a gruda, Grudzinski![14] You hare, you coward!"

  They made such an uproar that the voevoda of Poznan hastened up with anumber of captains to quiet them, and explain that Grudzins
ki had takenleave only for a week on very urgent affairs.

  Still the evil example had its effect; and that same day there wereseveral hundred nobles who did not wish to be worse than Grudzinski,though they slipped away with less aid and more quietly. StanislavSkshetuski, a captain from Kalisk and cousin of the famous Yan ofZbaraj, tore the hair on his head; for his land infantry, following theexample of "officers," began to desert from the camp. A new council ofwar was held in which crowds of nobles refused absolutely to take part.A stormy night followed, full of shouts and quarrels. They suspectedone another of the intention to desert. Cries of "Either all or none!"flew from mouth to mouth.

  Every moment reports were given out that the voevodas were departing,and such an uproar prevailed that the voevodas had to show themselvesseveral times to the excited multitude. A number of thousands of menwere on their horses before daybreak. But the voevoda of Poznan rodebetween the ranks with uncovered head like a Roman senator, andrepeated from moment to moment the great words,--

  "Worthy gentlemen, I am with you to live and die."

  He was received in some places with vivats; in others shouts ofderision were thundering. The moment he had pacified the crowd hereturned to the council, tired, hoarse, carried away by the grandeur ofhis own words, and convinced that he had rendered inestimable serviceto his country that night. But at the council he had fewer words in hismouth, twisted his beard, and pulled his foretop from despair,repeating,--

  "Give counsel if you can; I wash my hands of the future, for it isimpossible to make a defence with such soldiers."

  "Serene great mighty voevoda," answered Stanislav Skshetuski, "theenemy will drive away that turbulence and uproar. Only let the cannonplay, only let it come to defence, to a siege, these very nobles indefence of their own lives must serve on the ramparts and not bedisorderly in camp. So it has happened more than once."

  "With what can we defend ourselves? We have no cannon, nothing butsaluting pieces good to fire off in time of a feast."

  "At Zbaraj Hmelnitski had seventy cannon, and Prince Yeremi only a feweight-pounders and mortars."

  "But he had an army, not militia,--his own squadrons famed in theworld, not country nobles fresh from sheep-shearing."

  "Send for Pan Skorashevski," said the castellan of Poznan. "Make himcommander of the camp. He is at peace with the nobles, and will be ableto keep them in order."

  "Send for Skorashevski. Why should he be in Drahim or Chaplinko?"repeated Yendrei Grudzinski, the voevoda of Kalisk.

  "Yes, that is the best counsel!" cried other voices.

  A courier was despatched for Skorashevski. No other decisions weretaken at the council; but they talked much, and complained of the king,the queen, the lack of troops, and negligence.

  The following morning brought neither relief nor calm spirits. Thedisorder had become still greater. Some gave out reports that thedissidents, namely the Calvinists, were favorable to the Swedes, andready on the first occasion to go over to the enemy. What was more,this news was not contradicted by Pan Shlihtyng nor by Edmund andYatsck Kurnatovski, also Calvinists, but sincerely devoted to thecountry. Besides they gave final proof that the dissidents formed aseparate circle and consulted with one another under the lead of anoted disturber and cruel man. Pan Rei, who serving in Germany duringhis youth as a volunteer on the Lutheran side, was a great friend ofthe Swedes. Scarcely had this suspicion gone out among the nobles whenseveral thousand sabres were gleaming, and a real tempest rose in thecamp.

  "Let us punish the traitors, punish the serpents, ready to bite thebosom of their mother!" cried the nobles.

  "Give them this way!"

  "Cut them to pieces! Treason is most infectious, worthy gentlemen. Tearout the cockle or we shall all perish!"

  The voevodas and captains had to pacify them again, but this time itwas more difficult than the day before. Besides, they were themselvesconvinced that Rei was ready to betray his country in the most openmanner; for he was a man completely foreignized, and except hislanguage had nothing Polish in him. It was decided therefore to sendhim out of the camp, which at once pacified somewhat the angrymultitude. Still shouts continued to burst forth for a long time,--

  "Give them here! Treason, treason!"

  Wonderful conditions of mind reigned finally in the camp. Some fell incourage and were sunk in grief; others walked in silence, withuncertain steps, along the ramparts, casting timid and gloomy glancesalong the plains over which the enemy had to approach, or communicatedin whispers worse and worse news. Others were possessed of a sort ofdesperate, mad joy and readiness for death. In consequence of thisreadiness they arranged feasts and drinking-bouts so as to pass thelast days of life in rejoicing. Some thought of saving their souls, andspent the nights in prayer. But in that whole throng of men no onethought of victory, as if it were altogether beyond reach. Still theenemy had not superior forces; they had more cannon, better trainedtroops, and a leader who understood war.

  And while in this wise on one side the Polish camp was seething,shouting, and feasting, rising up with a roar, dropping down to quiet,like a sea lashed by a whirlwind, while the general militia wereholding diets as in time of electing a king, on the other side, alongthe broad green meadows of the Oder, pushed forward in calmness thelegions of Sweden.

  In front marched a brigade of the royal guard, led by Benedykt Horn, aterrible soldier, whose name was repeated in Germany with fear. Thesoldiers were chosen men, large, wearing lofty helmets with rimscovering their ears, in yellow leather doublets, armed with rapiers andmuskets; cool and constant in battle, ready at every beck of theleader.

  Karl Schedding, a German, led the West Gothland brigade, formed of tworegiments of infantry and one of heavy cavalry, dressed in armorwithout shoulder-pieces. Half of the infantry had muskets; the othersspears. At the beginning of a battle the musketeers stood in front, butin case of attack by cavalry they stood behind the spearmen, who,placing each the butt of his spear in the ground, held the pointagainst the onrushing horses. At a battle in the time of Sigismund III.one squadron of hussars cut to pieces with their sabres and with hoofsthis same West Gothland brigade, in which at present Germans servedmainly.

  The two Smaland brigades were led by Irwin, surnamed Handless, for hehad lost his right hand on a time while defending his flag; but to makeup for this loss he had in his left such strength that with one blow hecould hew off the head of a horse. He was a gloomy warrior, lovingbattles and bloodshed alone, stern to himself and to soldiers. Whileother captains trained themselves in continual wars into followers of acraft, and loved war for its own sake, he remained the same fanatic,and while slaying men he sang psalms to the Lord.

  The brigade of Westrmanland marched under Drakenborg; and that ofHelsingor, formed of sharpshooters famed through the world, underGustav Oxenstiern, a relative of the renowned chancellor,--a youngsoldier who roused great hopes. Fersen commanded the East Gothlandbrigade; the Nerik and Werland brigades were directed by Wittemberghimself, who at the same time was supreme chief of the whole army.

  Seventy-two cannon pounded out furrows in the moist meadows; ofsoldiers there were seventeen thousand, the fierce plunderers of allGermany, and in battle they were so accurate, especially the infantry,that the French royal guard could hardly compare with them. After theregiments followed the wagons and tents. The regiments marched in line,ready each moment for battle. A forest of lances was bristling abovethe mass of heads, helmets, and hats; and in the midst of that forestflowed on toward the frontier of Poland the great blue banners withwhite crosses in the centre. With each day the distance decreasedbetween the two armies.

  At last on July 27, in the forest at the village of Heinrichsdorf, theSwedish legions beheld for the first time the boundary pillar ofPoland. At sight of this the whole army gave forth a mighty shout;trumpets and drums thundered, and all the flags were unfurled.Wittemberg rode to the front attended by a brilliant staff, and all theregiments passed before him, presenting arms,--the cavalry with drawnrapiers, the cannon w
ith lighted matches. The time was midday; theweather glorious. The forest breeze brought the odor of resin.

  The gray road, covered with the rays of the sun,--the road over whichthe Swedish regiments had passed,--bending out of the Heinrichsdorfforest, was lost on the horizon. When the troops marching by it hadfinally passed the forest, their glances discovered a gladsome land,smiling, shining with yellow fields of every kind of grain, dotted inplaces with oak groves, in places green from meadows. Here and thereout of groups of trees, behind oak groves and far away rose bits ofsmoke to the sky; on the grass herds were seen grazing. Where on themeadows the water gleamed widely spread, walked storks at theirleisure.

  A certain calm and sweetness was spread everywhere over that landflowing with milk and honey, and it seemed to open its arms ever widerand wider before the army, as if it greeted not invaders but guestscoming with God.

  At this sight a new shout was wrested from the bosoms of all thesoldiers, especially the Swedes by blood, who were accustomed to thebare, poor, wild nature of their native land. The hearts of aplundering and needy people rose with desire to gather those treasuresand riches which appeared before their eyes. Enthusiasm seized theranks.

  But the soldiers, tempered in the fire of the Thirty Years' War,expected that this would not come to them easily; for that grainlandwas inhabited by a numerous and a knightly people, who knew how todefend it. The memory was still living in Sweden of the terrible defeatof Kirchholm, where three thousand cavalry under Hodkyevich ground intodust eighteen thousand of the best troops of Sweden. In the cottages ofWest Gothland, Smaland, or Delakarlia they told tales of those wingedknights, as of giants from a saga. Fresher still was the memory of thestruggles in the time of Gustavus Adolphus, for the warriors were notyet extinct who had taken part in them. But that eagle of Scandinavia,ere he had flown twice through all Germany, broke his talons on thelegions of Konyetspolski.

  Therefore with the gladness there was joined in the hearts of theSwedes a certain fear, of which the supreme chief, Wittemberg himself,was not free. He looked on the passing regiments of infantry andcavalry with the eye with which a shepherd looks on his flock;then he turned to the rear man, who wore a hat with a feather, and alight-colored wig falling to his shoulders.

  "Your grace assures me," said he, "that with these forces it ispossible to break the army occupying Uistsie?"

  The man with the light wig smiled and answered: "Your grace may relycompletely on my words, for which I am ready to pledge my head. If atUistsie there were regular troops and some one of the hetmans, I firstwould give counsel not to hasten, but to wait till his royal Graceshould come with the whole army; but against the general militia andthose gentlemen of Great Poland our forces will be more thansufficient."

  "But have not reinforcements come to them?"

  "Reinforcements have not come for two reasons,--first, because all theregular troops, of which there are not many, are occupied in Lithuaniaand the Ukraine; second, because in Warsaw neither the King YanKazimir, the chancellor, nor the senate will believe to this momentthat his royal Grace Karl Gustav has really begun war in spite of thetruce, and notwithstanding the last embassies and his readiness tocompromise. They are confident that peace will be made at the lasthour,--ha, ha!"

  Here the rear man removed his hat, wiped the sweat from his red face,and added: "Trubetskoi and Dolgoruki in Lithuania, Hmelnitski in theUkraine, and we entering Great Poland,--behold what the government ofYan Kazimir has led to."

  Wittemberg gazed on him with a look of astonishment, and asked, "But,your grace, do you rejoice at the thought?"

  "I rejoice at the thought, for my wrong and my innocence will beavenged; and besides I see, as on the palm of my hand, that the sabreof your grace and my counsels will place that new and most beautifulcrown in the world on the head of Karl Gustav."

  Wittemberg turned his glance to the distance, embraced with it theoak-groves, the meadows, the grain-fields, and after a while said:"True, it is a beautiful country and fertile. Your grace may be surethat after the war the king will give the chancellorship to no one elsebut you."

  The man in the rear removed his cap a second time. "And I, for my part,wish to have no other lord," added he, raising his eyes to heaven.

  The heavens were clear and fair; no thunderbolt fell and crashed to thedust the traitor who delivered his country, groaning under two warsalready and exhausted, to the power of the enemy on that boundary.

  The man conversing with Wittemberg was Hieronim Kailzeyovski, lateunder-chancellor of the Crown, now sold to Sweden in hostility to hiscountry.

  They stood a time in silence. Meanwhile the last two brigades, those ofNerik and Wermland, passed the boundary; after them others began todraw in the cannon; the trumpets still played unceasingly; the roar andrattle of drums outsounded the tramp of the soldiers, and filled theforest with ominous echoes. At last the staff moved also. Radzeyovskirode at the side of Wittemberg.

  "Oxenstiern is not to be seen," said Wittemberg. "I am afraid thatsomething may have happened to him. I do not know whether it was wiseto send him as a trumpeter with letters to Uistsie."

  "It was wise," answered Radzeyovski, "for he will look at the camp,will see the leaders, and learn what they think there; and this anykind of camp-follower could not do."

  "But if they recognize him?"

  "Rei alone knows him, and he is ours. Besides, even if they shouldrecognize him, they will do him no harm, but will give him supplies forthe road and reward him. I know the Poles, and I know they are readyfor anything, merely to show themselves polite people before strangers.Our whole effort is to win the praise of strangers. Your grace may beat rest concerning Oxenstiern, for a hair will not fall from his head.He has not come because it is too soon for his return."

  "And does your grace think our letters will have any effect?"

  Radzeyovski laughed. "If your grace permits, I will foretell what willhappen. The voevoda of Poznan is a polished and learned man, thereforehe will answer us very courteously and very graciously; but because heloves to pass for a Roman, his answer will be terribly Roman. He willsay, to begin with, that he would rather shed the last drop of hisblood than surrender, that death is better than dishonor, and the lovewhich he bears his country directs him to fall for her on theboundary."

  Radzeyovski laughed still louder. The stern face of Wittembergbrightened also.

  "Your grace does not think that he will be ready to act as he writes?"asked Wittemberg.

  "He?" answered Radzeyovski. "It is true that he nourishes a love forhis country, but with ink; and that is not over-strong food. His loveis in fact more scant than that of his jester who helps him to putrhymes together. I am certain that after that Roman answer will comegood wishes for health, success, offers of service, and at last arequest to spare his property and that of his relatives, for whichagain he with all his relatives will be thankful."

  "And what at last will be the result of our letters?"

  "The courage of the other side will weaken to the last degree, senatorswill begin to negotiate with us, and we shall occupy all Great Polandafter perhaps a few shots in the air."

  "Would that your grace be a true prophet!"

  "I am certain that it will be as I say, for I know these people. I havefriends and adherents in the whole country, and I know how to begin.And that I shall neglect nothing is made sure by the wrong which Iendure from Van Kazimir, and my love for Karl Gustav. People with usare more tender at present about their own fortunes than the integrityof the Commonwealth. All those lands upon which we shall now march arethe estates of the Opalinskis, the Charnkovskis, the Grudzinskis; andbecause they are at Uistsie in person they will be milder innegotiating. As to the nobles, if only their freedom of disputing atthe diets is guaranteed, they will follow the voevodas."

  "By knowledge of the country and the people your grace renders the kingunexampled service, which cannot remain without an equally noteworthyreward. Therefore from what you say I conclude that I may look on thislan
d as ours."

  "You may, your grace, you may, you may," repeated Radzeyovskihurriedly, a number of times.

  "Therefore I occupy it in the name of his Royal Grace Karl Gustav,"answered Wittemberg, solemnly.

  While the Swedish troops were thus beginning beyond Heinrichsdorf towalk on the land of Great Poland, and even earlier, for it was on July18, a Swedish trumpeter arrived at the Polish camp with letters fromRadzeyovski and Wittemberg to the voevodas.

  Vladyslav Skorashevski himself conducted the trumpeter to the voevodaof Poznan, and the nobles of the general militia gazed with curiosityon the "first Swede," wondering at his valiant bearing, his manly face,his blond mustaches, the ends combed upward in a broad brush, and hisreally lordlike mien. Crowds followed him to the voevoda; acquaintancescalled to one another, pointing him out with their fingers, laughedsomewhat at his boots with enormous round legs, and at the longstraight rapier, which they called a spit, hanging from a belt richlyworked with silver. The Swede also cast curious glances from under hisbroad hat, as if wishing to examine the camp and estimate the forces,and then looked repeatedly at the crowd of nobles whose orientalcostumes were apparently novel to him. At last he was brought to thevoevoda, around whom were grouped all the dignitaries in the camp.

  The letters were read immediately, and a council held. The voevodacommitted the trumpeter to his attendants to be entertained in soldierfashion; the nobles took him from the attendants, and wondering at theman as a curiosity, began to drink for life and death with him.

  Pan Skorashevski looked at the Swede with equal scrutiny; but becausehe suspected him to be some officer in disguise, he went in fact toconvey that idea in the evening to the voevoda. The latter, however,said it was all one, and did not permit his arrest.

  "Though he were Wittemberg himself, he has come hither as an envoy andshould go away unmolested. In addition I command you to give him tenducats for the road."

  The trumpeter meanwhile was talking in broken German with those nobleswho, through intercourse with Prussian towns, understood that language.He told them of victories won by Wittemberg in various lands, of theforces marching against Uistsie, and especially of the cannon of arange hitherto unknown and which could not be resisted. The nobles weretroubled at this, and no small number of exaggerated accounts began tocirculate through the camp.

  That night scarcely any one slept in Uistsie. About midnight those mencame in who had stood hitherto in separate camps, at Pila and Vyelunie.The dignitaries deliberated over their answer to the letters tilldaylight, and the nobles passed the time in stories about the power ofthe Swedes.

  With a certain feverish curiosity they asked the trumpeter about theleaders of the army, the weapons, the method of fighting; and everyanswer of his was given from mouth to mouth. The nearness of theSwedish legions lent unusual interest to all the details, which werenot of a character to give consolation.

  About daylight Stanislav Skshetuski came with tidings that the Swedeshad arrived at Valch, one day's march from the Polish camp. There roseat once a terrible hubbub; most of the horses with the servants were atpasture on the meadows. They were sent for then with all haste.Districts mounted and formed squadrons. The moment before battle wasfor the untrained soldier the most terrible; therefore before thecaptains were able to introduce any kind of system there reigned for along time desperate disorder.

  Neither commands nor trumpets could be heard; nothing but voices cryingon every side: "Yan! Pyotr! Onufri! This way! I wish thou wert killed!Bring the horses! Where are my men? Yan! Pyotr!" If at that moment onecannon-shot had been heard, the disorder might easily have been turnedto a panic.

  Gradually, however, the districts were ranged in order. The inborncapacity of the nobles for war made up for the want of experience, andabout midday the camp presented an appearance imposing enough.The infantry stood on the ramparts looking like flowers in theirmany-colored coats, smoke was borne away from the lighted matches, andoutside the ramparts under cover of the guns the meadows and plain wereswarming with the district squadrons of cavalry standing in line onsturdy horses, whose neighing roused an echo in the neighboring forestsand filled all hearts with military ardor.

  Meanwhile the voevoda of Poznan sent away the trumpeter with an answerto the letter reading more or less as Radzeyovski had foretold,therefore both courteous and Roman; then he determined to send a partyto the northern bank of the Notets to seize an informant from theenemy.

  Pyotr Opalinski, voevoda of Podlyasye, a cousin of the voevoda Poznan,was to go in person with a party together with his own dragoons, ahundred and fifty of whom he had brought to Uistsie; and besides thisit was given to Captains Skorashevski and Skshetuski to call outvolunteers from the nobles of the general militia, so that they mightalso look in the eyes of the enemy.

  Both rode before the ranks, delighting the eye by manner andposture,--Pan Stanislav black as a beetle, like all the Skshetuskis,with a manly face, stern and adorned with a long sloping scar whichremained from a sword-blow, with raven black beard blown aside by thewind; Pan Vladyslav portly, with long blond mustaches, open underlip, and eyes with red lids, mild and honest, reminding one less ofMars,--but none the less a genuine soldier spirit, as glad to be infire as a salamander,--a knight knowing war as his ten fingers, and ofincomparable daring. Both, riding before the ranks extended in a longline, repeated from moment to moment,--

  "Now, gracious gentlemen, who is the volunteer against the Swedes? Whowants to smell powder? Well, gracious gentlemen, volunteer!"

  And so they continued for a good while without result, for no manpushed forward from the ranks. One looked at another. There were thosewho desired to go and had no fear of the Swedes, but indecisionrestrained them. More than one nudged his neighbor and said, "Go you,and then I'll go." The captains were growing impatient, till all atonce, when they had ridden up to the district of Gnyezno, a certain mandressed in many colors sprang forth on a hoop, not from the line butfrom behind the line, and cried,--

  "Gracious gentlemen of the militia, I'll be the volunteer and ye willbe jesters!"

  "Ostrojka! Ostrojka!" cried the nobles.

  "I am just as good a noble as any of you!" answered the jester.

  "Tfu! to a hundred devils!" cried Pan Rosinski; under-judge, "a truceto jesting! I will go."

  "And I! and I!" cried numerous voices.

  "Once my mother bore me, once for me is death!"

  "As good as thou will be found!"

  "Freedom to each. Let no man here exalt himself above others."

  And as no one had come forth before, so now nobles began to rush outfrom every district, spurring forward their horses, disputing with oneanother and fighting to advance. In the twinkle of an eye there werefive hundred horsemen, and still they were riding forth from the ranks.Pan Skorashevski began to laugh with his honest, open laugh.

  "Enough, worthy gentlemen, enough! We cannot all go."

  Then the two captains put the men in order and marched.

  The voevoda of Podlyasye joined the horsemen as they were riding out ofcamp. They were seen as on the palm of the hand crossing the Notets;after that they glittered some time on the windings of the road, thenvanished from sight.

  At the expiration of half an hour the voevoda of Poznan ordered thetroops to their tents, for he saw that it was impossible to keep themin the ranks when the enemy were still a day's march distant. Numerouspickets were thrown out, however; it was not permitted to drive horsesto pasture, and the order was given that at the first low sound of thetrumpet through the mouthpiece all were to mount and be ready.

  Expectation and uncertainty had come to an end, quarrels and disputeswere finished at once, for the nearness of the enemy had raised theircourage as Pan Skshetuski had predicted. The first successful battlemight raise it indeed very high; and in the evening an event took placewhich seemed of happy omen.

  The sun was just setting,--lighting with enormous glitter, dazzling theeyes, the Notets, and the pine-woods beyond,--when on the other side ofthe
river was seen first a cloud of dust, and then men moving in thecloud. All that was living went out on the ramparts to see what mannerof guests these were. At that moment a dragoon of the guards rushed infrom the squadron of Pan Grudzinski with intelligence that the horsemenwere returning.

  "The horsemen are returning with success! The Swedes have not eatenthem!" was repeated from mouth to mouth.

  Meanwhile they in bright rolls of dust approached nearer and nearer,coming slowly; then they crossed the Notets.

  The nobles with their hands over their eyes gazed at them; for theglitter became each moment greater, and the whole air was filled withgold and purple light.

  "Hei! the party is somewhat larger than when it went out," saidShlihtyng.

  "They must be bringing prisoners, as God is dear to me!" cried a noble,apparently without confidence and not believing his eyes.

  "They are bringing prisoners! They are bringing prisoners!"

  They had now come so near that their faces could be recognized. Infront rode Skorashevski, nodding his head as usual and talking joyouslywith Skshetuski; after them the strong detachment of horse surrounded afew tens of infantry wearing round hats. They were really Swedishprisoners.

  At this sight the nobles could not contain themselves; and ran forwardwith shouts: "Vivat Skorashevski! Vivat Skshetuski!"

  A dense crowd surrounded the party at once. Some looked at theprisoners; some asked, "How was the affair?" others threatened theSwedes.

  "Ah-hu! Well now, good for you, ye dogs! Ye wanted to war with thePoles? Ye have the Poles now!"

  "Give them here! Sabre them, make mince-meat of them!"

  "Ha, broad-breeches! ye have tried the Polish sabres?"

  "Gracious gentlemen, don't shout like little boys, for the prisonerswill think that this is your first war," said Skorashevski; "it is acommon thing to take prisoners in time of war."

  The volunteers who belonged to the party looked with pride on thenobles who overwhelmed them with questions: "How was it? Did theysurrender easily? Had you to sweat over them? Do they fight well?"

  "They are good fellows," said Rosinski, "they defended themselves well;but they are not iron,--a sabre cuts them."

  "So they couldn't resist you, could they?"

  "They could not resist the impetus."

  "Gracious gentlemen, do you hear what is said,--they could not resistthe impetus. Well, what does that mean? Impetus is the main thing."

  "Remember if only there is impetus!--that is the best method againstthe Swedes."

  If at that moment those nobles had been commanded to rush at the enemy,surely impetus would not have been lacking; but it was well into thenight when the sound of a trumpet was heard before the forepost. Atrumpeter arrived with a letter from Wittemberg summoning the nobles tosurrender. The crowds hearing of this wanted to cut the messenger topieces; but the voevodas took the letter into consideration, though thesubstance of it was insolent.

  The Swedish general announced that Karl Gustav sent his troops to hisrelative Yan Kazimir, as reinforcements against the Cossacks, thattherefore the people of Great Poland should yield without resistance.Pan Grudzinski on reading this letter could not restrain hisindignation, and struck the table with his fist; but the voevoda ofPoznan quieted him at once with the question,--

  "Do you believe in victory? How many days can we defend ourselves? Doyou wish to take the responsibility for so much noble blood which maybe shed to-morrow?"

  After a long deliberation it was decided not to answer, and to wait forwhat would happen. They did not wait long. On Saturday, July 24, thepickets announced that the whole Swedish army had appeared before Pila.There was as much bustle in camp as in a beehive on the eve ofswarming.

  The nobles mounted their horses; the voevodas hurried along the ranks,giving contradictory commands till Vladyslav Skorashevski tookeverything in hand; and when he had established order he rode out atthe head of a few hundred volunteers to try skirmishing beyond theriver and accustom the men to look at the enemy.

  The cavalry went with him willingly enough, for skirmishing consistedgenerally of struggles carried on by small groups or singly, and suchstruggles the nobles trained to sword exercise did not fear at all.They went out therefore beyond the river, and stood before the enemy,who approached nearer and nearer, and blackened with a long line thehorizon, as if a grove had grown freshly from the ground. Regiments ofcavalry and infantry deployed, occupying more and more space.

  The nobles expected that skirmishers on horseback might rush againstthem at any moment. So far they were not to be seen; but on the lowhills a few hundred yards distant small groups halted, in which were tobe seen men and horses, and they began to turn around on the place.Seeing this, Skorashevski commanded without delay, "To the left! to therear!"

  But the voice of command had not yet ceased to sound when on the hillslong white curls of smoke bloomed forth, and as it were birds of somekind flew past with a whistle among the nobles; then a report shook theair, and at the same moment were heard cries and groans of a fewwounded.

  "Halt!" cried Skorashevski.

  The birds flew past a second and a third time; again groans accompaniedthe whistle. The nobles did not listen to the command of the chief, butretreated at increased speed, shouting, and calling for the aid ofheaven. Then the division scattered, in the twinkle of an eye, over theplain, and rushed on a gallop to the camp. Skorashevski was cursing,but that did no good.

  Wittemberg, having dispersed the skirmishers so easily pushed onfarther, till at last he stood in front of Uistsie, straight before thetrenches defended by the nobles of Kalish. The Polish guns began toplay, but at first no answer was made from the Swedish side. The smokefell away quietly in the clear air in long streaks stretching betweenthe armies, and in the spaces between them the nobles saw the Swedishregiments, infantry and cavalry, deploying with terrible coolness as ifcertain of victory.

  On the hills the cannon were fixed, trenches raised; in a word, theenemy came into order without paying the least attention to the ballswhich, without reaching them, merely scattered sand and earth on themen working in the trenches.

  Pan Skshetuski led out once more two squadrons of the men of Kalish,wishing by a bold attack to confuse the Swedes. But they did not gowillingly; the division fell at once into a disorderly crowd, for whenthe most daring urged their horses forward the most cowardly heldtheirs back on purpose. Two regiments of cavalry sent by Wittembergdrove the nobles from the field after a short struggle, and pursuedthem to the camp. Now dusk came, and put an end to the bloodlessstrife.

  There was firing from cannon till night, when firing ceased; but such atumult rose in the Polish camp that it was heard on the other bank ofthe Notets. It rose first for the reason that a few hundred of thegeneral militia tried to slip away in the darkness. Others, seeingthis, began to threaten and detain them. Sabres were drawn. The words"Either all or none" flew again from mouth to mouth. At every moment itseemed most likely that all would go. Great dissatisfaction burst outagainst the leaders: "They sent us with naked breasts against cannon,"cried the militia.

  They were enraged in like degree against Wittemberg, because withoutregard to the customs of war he had not sent skirmishers againstskirmishers, but had ordered to fire on them unexpectedly from cannon."Every one will do for himself what is best," said they; "but it is thecustom of a swinish people not to meet face to face." Others were inopen despair. "They will smoke us out of this place like badgers out ofa hole," said they. "The camp is badly planned, the trenches are badlymade, the place is not fitted for defence." From time to time voiceswere heard: "Save yourselves, brothers!" Still others cried: "Treason!treason!"

  That was a terrible night: confusion and relaxation increased everymoment; no one listened to commands. The voevodas lost their heads, anddid not even try to restore order; and the imbecility of the generalmilitia appeared as clearly as on the palm of the hand. Wittembergmight have taken the camp by assault on that night with the greatestease.

 
; Dawn came. The day broke pale, cloudy, and lighted a chaotic gatheringof people fallen in courage, lamenting, and the greater number drunk,more ready for shame than for battle. To complete the misfortune, theSwedes had crossed the Notets at Dzyembovo and surrounded the Polishcamp.

  At that side there were scarcely any trenches, and there was nothingfrom behind which they could defend themselves. They should have raisedbreastworks without delay. Skorashevski and Skshetuski had implored tohave this done, but no one would listen to anything.

  The leaders and the nobles had one word on their lips, "Negotiate!" Menwere sent out to parley. In answer there came from the Swedish camp abrilliant party, at the head of which rode Radzeyovski and GeneralWirtz, both with green branches.

  They rode to the house in which the voevoda of Poznan was living; buton the way Radzeyovski stopped amid the crowd of nobles, bowed with thebranch, with his hat, laughed, greeted his acquaintances, and said in apiercing voice,--

  "Gracious gentlemen, dearest brothers, be not alarmed! Not as enemiesdo we come. On you it depends whether a drop of blood more will beshed. If you wish instead of a tyrant who is encroaching on yourliberties, who is planning for absolute power, who has brought thecountry to final destruction,--if you wish, I repeat, a good ruler, anoble one, a warrior of such boundless glory that at bare mention ofhis name all the enemies of the Commonwealth will flee,--giveyourselves under the protection of the most serene Karl Gustav.Gracious gentlemen, dearest brothers, behold, I bring to you theguarantee of all your liberties, of your freedom, of your religion. Onyourselves your salvation depends. Gracious gentlemen, the most sereneSwedish king undertakes to quell the Cossack rebellion, to finish thewar in Lithuania; and only he can do that. Take pity on the unfortunatecountry if you have no pity on yourselves."

  Here the voice of the traitor quivered as if stopped by tears. Thenobles listened with astonishment; here and there scattered voicescried, "Vivat Radzeyovski, our vice-chancellor!" He rode farther, andagain bowed to new throngs, and again was heard his trumpet-like voice:"Gracious gentlemen, dearest brothers!" And at last he and Wirtz withthe whole retinue vanished in the house of the voevoda of Poznan.

  The nobles crowded so closely before the house that it would have beenpossible to ride on their heads, for they felt and understood thatthere in that house men were deciding the question not only of them butof the whole country. The servants of the voevodas, in scarlet colors,came out and began to invite the more important personages to thecouncil. They entered quickly, and after them burst in a few of thesmaller; but the rest remained at the door, they pressed to thewindows, put their ears even to the walls.

  A deep silence reigned in the throng. Those standing nearest thewindows heard from time to time the sound of shrill voices from withinthe chamber, as it were the echo of quarrels, disputes, and fights.Hour followed hour, and no end to the council.

  Suddenly the doors wore thrown open with a crash, and out burstVladyslav Skorashevski. Those present pushed back in astonishment. Thatman, usually so calm and mild, of whom it was said that wounds might behealed under his hand, had that moment a terrible face. His eyes werered, his look wild, his clothing torn open on his breast; both handswere grasping his hair, and he rushed out like a thunderbolt among thenobles, and cried with a piercing voice,--

  "Treason! murder! shame! We are Sweden now, and Poland no longer!"

  He began to roar with an awful voice, with a spasmodic cry, and to tearhis hair like a man who is losing his reason. A silence of the gravereigned all around. A certain fearful foreboding seized all hearts.

  Skorashevski sprang away quickly, began to run among the nobles and crywith a voice of the greatest despair: "To arms, to arms, whoso believesin God! To arms, to arms!"

  Then certain murmurs began to fly through the throngs,--certainmomentary whispers, sudden and broken, like the first beatings of thewind before a storm. Hearts hesitated, minds hesitated, and in thatuniversal distraction of feelings the tragic voice was callingcontinually, "To arms, to arms!"

  Soon two other voices joined his,--those of Pyotr Skorashevski andStanislav Shshetuski. After them ran up Klodzinski, the gallant captainof the district of Pozpan. An increasing circle of nobles began tosurround them. A threatening murmur was heard round about; flames ranover the faces and shot out of the eyes; sabres rattled. VladyslavSkorashevski mastered the first transport, and began to speak, pointingto the house in which the council was being held,--

  "Do you hear, gracious gentlemen? They are selling the country therelike Judases, and disgracing it. Do you know that we belong to Polandno longer? It was not enough for them to give into the hands of theenemy all of you,--camp, army, cannon. Would they were killed! Theyhave affirmed with their own signatures and in your names that weabjure our ties with the country, that we abjure our king; that thewhole land--towns, towers, and we all--shall belong forever to Sweden.That an army surrenders happens, but who has the right to renounce hiscountry and his king? Who has the right to tear away a province, tojoin strangers, to go over to another people, to renounce his ownblood? Gracious gentlemen, this is disgrace, treason, murder,parricide! Save the fatherland, brothers! In God's name, whoever is anoble, whoever has virtue, let him save our mother. Let us give ourlives, let us shed our blood! We do not want to be Swedes; we do not,we do not! Would that he had never been born who will spare his bloodnow! Let us rescue our mother!"

  "Treason!" cried several hundred voices, "treason! Let us cut them topieces."

  "Join us, whoever has virtue!" cried Skshetuski.

  "Against the Swedes till death!" added Klodzinski.

  And they went along farther in the camp, shouting: "Join us! Assemble!There is treason!" and after them moved now several hundred nobles withdrawn sabres.

  But an immense majority remained in their places; and of those whofollowed some, seeing that they were not many, began to look around andstand still.

  Now the door of the council-house was thrown open, and in it appearedthe voevoda of Poznan, Pan Opalinski, having on his right side GeneralWirtz, and on the left Radzeyovski. After them came Andrei Grudzinski,voevoda of Kalisk; Myaskovski, castellan of Kryvinsk; Gembitski,castellan of Myendzyrechka, and Andrei Slupski.

  Pan Opalinski had in his hand a parchment with seals appended; he heldhis head erect, but his face was pale and his look uncertain, thoughevidently he was trying to be joyful. He took in with his glance thecrowds, and in the midst of a deathlike silence began to speak with apiercing though somewhat hoarse voice,--

  "Gracious gentlemen, this day we have put ourselves under theprotection of the most serene King of Sweden. Vivat Carolus GustavusRex!"

  Silence gave answer to the voevoda; suddenly some loud voice thundered,"Veto!"

  The voevoda turned his eyes in the direction of the voice and said:"This is not a provincial diet, therefore a veto is not in place. Andwhoever wishes to veto let him go against the Swedish cannon turnedupon us, which in one hour could make of this camp a pile of ruins."

  Then he was silent, and after a while inquired, "Who said Veto?"

  No one answered.

  The voevoda again raised his voice, and began still more emphatically:"All the liberties of the nobles and the clergy will be maintained;taxes will not be increased, and will be collected in the same manneras hitherto; no man will suffer wrongs or robbery. The armies of hisroyal Majesty have not the right to quarter on the property of noblesnor to other exactions, unless to such as the quota of the Polishsquadrons enjoy."

  Here he was silent, and heard an anxious murmur of the nobles, as ifthey wished to understand his meaning; then he beckoned with his hand.

  "Besides this, we have the word and promise of General Wirtz, given inthe name of his royal Majesty, that if the whole country will followour saving example, the Swedish armies will move promptly intoLithuania and the Ukraine, and will not cease to war until all thelands and all the fortresses of the Commonwealth are won back. VivatCarolus Gustavus Rex!"

  "Vivat Carolus Gustavus Rex
!" cried hundreds of voices. "Vivat CarolusGustavus Rex!" thundered still more loudly in the whole camp.

  Here, before the eyes of all, the voevoda of Poznan turned toRadzeyovski and embraced him heartily; then he embraced Wirtz; then allbegan to embrace one another. The nobles followed the example of thedignitaries, and joy became universal. They gave vivats so loud thatthe echoes thundered throughout the whole region. But the voevoda ofPoznan begged yet the beloved brotherhood for a moment of quiet, andsaid in a tone of cordiality,--

  "Gracious gentlemen! General Wittemberg invites us today to a feast inhis camp, so that at the goblets a brotherly alliance may be concludedwith a manful people."

  "Vivat Wittemberg! vivat! vivat! vivat!"

  "And after that, gracious gentlemen," added the voevoda, "let us go toour homes, and with the assistance of God let us begin the harvest withthe thought that on this day we have saved the fatherland."

  "Coming ages will render us justice," said Radzeyovski.

  "Amen!" finished the voevoda of Poznan.

  Meanwhile he saw that the eyes of many nobles were gazing at andscanning something above his head. He turned and saw his own jester,who, holding with one hand to the frame above the door, was writingwith a coal on the wall of the council-house over the door: "MeneTekel-Peres."[15]

  In the world the heavens were covered with clouds, and a tempest wascoming.

 

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