With Fire and Sword

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

  But Chernota was mistaken in supposing that the colonel would declare for war. Krechovski, with his quick mind, understood that now or never might he obtain from the Commonwealth those starostaships and dignities of which he dreamed. He understood that at the pacification of the Cossacks they would try to detach and satisfy him before many others, with which Pan Pototski, being in captivity, would not be able to interfere. On this account he spoke as follows:—

  “My calling is to give battle, not advice; but as we are in council, I feel impelled to give my present opinion, since I have earned your favor as well if not better than others. Why did we kindle war? We kindled present war for the restoration of our liberties and rights, and the voevoda of Bratslav writes that this restoration will take place. Therefore, either it will, or it will not. If it will not, then war; if it will, peace! Why spill blood in vain? Let them pacify us, and we will pacify the crowd, and the war will stop. Our father Hmelnitski has arranged and thought out all this wisely,—that we are on the side of his Majesty the King, who will give us a reward for that; and if the lordlings will oppose, then he will let us have our sport with them, and we will have it. I should not advise to send the Tartars off; let them arrange themselves in camps in the Wilderness, and stay till we have one thing or another.”

  Hmelnitski’s face brightened when he heard these words; and now the colonels in immense majority, began to call for a suspension of war and an embassy to Warsaw, to ask the Lord of Brusiloff to come in person to negotiate. Chernota still shouted and protested; but the colonel fixed threatening eyes on him and said,—

  “You, Chernota, Colonel of Gadyach, call for war and bloodshed; but when the light cavalry of Dmukhovski advanced upon you at Korsún, you squealed like a little pig, ‘Oh, brothers, my own brothers, save me!’ and you ran away in the face of your whole regiment.”

  “You lie!” roared Chernota. “I am not afraid of the Poles, nor of you.”

  Krechovski squeezed the baton in his hand and sprang toward Chernota; others began also to belabor the Gadyach colonel with their fists. The tumult increased. On the square the Brotherhood bellowed like a herd of wild bulls.

  Then Hmelnitski himself rose a second time.

  “Gentlemen, colonels, friends,” said he, “you have decided to send envoys to Warsaw, to mention our faithful services to his most serene Majesty the King, and to ask for a reward. But also whoever wishes war may have it,—not with the king nor the Commonwealth, for we have never carried on war with either, but with our greatest enemy, who is now red with Cossack blood, who at Starets bathed himself in it, and still does not cease to bathe himself, and continues in his hatred of the Zaporojian armies; to whom I sent a letter and envoys asking him to abandon that hatred, but who cruelly murdered my envoys, gave no answer to me, not paying respect to your chief, through which he is guilty of contempt against the whole Zaporojian army. And now, having come from the Trans-Dnieper, he has destroyed Pogrébische, punishing innocent people, for whom I have shed bitter tears. From Pogrébische, as I was informed this morning, he marched to Nyemiroff, and left no person alive there. And since the Tartars from fear and terror will not march against him, he will be seen soon on the way to destroy us here, innocent people, against the will of our affectionate king and the whole Commonwealth; for in his insolence he regards no man, and as he is now rebelling, so is he always ready to rebel against the will of his Majesty the King.”

  It grew very still in the assembly; Hmelnitski drew breath and spoke on:—

  “God has rewarded us with a victory over the hetmans, but Yeremi is worse than the hetmans and all the kinglets,—a son of Satan, living by pure injustice. Against whom I should march myself were it not that in Warsaw he would begin to cry, through his friends, that I do not want peace, and blacken our innocence before the king. That this should not happen, it is necessary that his Majesty the King and the whole Commonwealth should know that I do not want war, that I am sitting here in quiet, and that he first comes on us with war. Therefore I am not able to move, I must remain for negotiations with the voevoda of Bratslav. That he, devil’s son, should not break our power, it is necessary to make a stand against him and destroy his power as we did that of our enemies, those gentlemen, the hetmans at Jóltiya Vodi and Korsún. Therefore I ask some of you to go against him of your own will, and I will write to the king that that took place aside from me, and for our absolute defence against the hatred and attacks of Vishnyevetski.”

  Profound silence reigned in the assembly. Hmelnitski continued:—

  “To whomsoever wishes to go on this undertaking I will give men enough, good men, and I will give cannon and artillerists, so that with God’s aid he may sweep aside our enemy and gain a victory over him.”

  But not one of the colonels stepped forward.

  “Sixty thousand chosen men I will give,” said crafty Hmelnitski.

  Silence. And they were all fearless warriors, whose battle-shouts had echoed more than once around the walls of Tsargrad.[12] And perhaps for this very reason each one of them feared to lose the glory he possessed, by meeting the terrible Yeremi.

  Hmelnitski eyed the colonels, who under the influence of that glance looked to the ground. The face of Vygovski put on a look of satanic malice.

  “I know a hero,” said Hmelnitski, mournfully, “who would speak at this moment, and not avoid this work, but he is not among us.”

  “Bogun!” exclaimed some voices.

  “Yes. He has already swept away Yeremi’s garrison at Vassílyevka; but they wounded him in the engagement, and he lies now in Cherkasi struggling with Mother Death. And since he is not here, there is no one here as I see. Where is Cossack renown? Where are the Pavlyuks, the Nalivaikas, the Lobodas, and the Ostranitsas?”

  A short, thick man, with a blue and gloomy face, and a mustache red as fire over a crooked mouth, and with green eyes, rose from the bench, pushed forward toward Hmelnitski, and said, “I will go.” This was Maksim Krívonos.

  Shouts of “Glory to him!” rose in thunder; but he stood with his baton at his side, and spoke with a hoarse and halting voice,—

  “Do not think, Hetman, that I feel fear. I should have stood up at first, but I thought, ‘There are better than I!’ But matters being as they are, I will go. Who are you? [turning to the colonels]. You are the heads and the hands; but I have no head, only hands and a sword. Once my mother bore me! War is my mother and my sister. Vishnyevetski slaughters, I will slaughter; he hangs, and I will hang. But you, Hetman, give me good warriors; for with a mob you can do nothing with Vishnyevetski. And so I go to take castles, kill, slaughter, hang! Death to the white hands!”

  Another ataman stepped forward. “I will go with you, Maksim.” This was Pulyan.

  “And Chernota of Gadyach, and Gladki of Mirgorod, and Nosach will go with you,” said Hmelnitski.

  “We will,” said they, in one voice; for the example of Krívonos roused them, and courage entered them.

  “Against Yeremi, against Yeremi!” thundered shouts through the assembly. “Cut! slay!” repeated the Brotherhood; and after a time the council became a carousal. The regiments assigned to Krívonos drank deeply, for they were going to death. They knew this well themselves, but there was no fear in their hearts. “Once our mother bore us!” repeated they after their leader; and on this account they spared nothing on themselves, as is usual before death. Hmelnitski permitted and encouraged this; the crowd followed their example. The legions began to sing songs in a hundred thousand voices. Horses let loose and prancing through the camp raised clouds of dust, and caused indescribable disorder. They were chased with cries and shouts and laughter. Great crowds loitered along the river, fired muskets, crowded and pushed to the quarters of the hetman himself, who finally ordered Yakubovich to drive them away. Then began fighting and confusion, till a drenching rain drove them all to the wagons and tents.

  In the evening a storm burst forth
in the sky. Thunder rolled from one end of the clouds, to the other; lightning flashed through the whole country, now with white and now with ruddy blaze. In the light of these flashes Krívonos marched out of camp at the head of sixty thousand men,—some from the best warriors, the rest from the mob.

  CHAPTER XXVII.

  Krívonos marched then from Bélaya Tserkoff through Skvira and Pogrébische to Makhnovka. Wherever he passed, traces of human habitation vanished. Whoever did not join him perished under the knife. Grain was burned standing, with forests and gardens. At the same time the prince carried annihilation in his hand. After the razing of Pogrébische, and the baptism of blood which Pan Baranovski gave to Nyemiroff, the prince’s army destroyed a number of other considerable bands, and halted in camp at Raigorod, where during a month they scarcely got off their horses. They were weakened by toil, and death had decreased them notably. Rest was necessary, for the hands of these reapers in the harvest of blood had relaxed. The prince wavered, therefore, and thought whether it would not be better to go for a time to a more peaceable region to rest and recruit his forces, especially his horses, which were more like skeletons of beasts than living creatures, since they had not eaten grain for a month, subsisting only on trampled grass.

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

  The prince was greatly pleased, and invited thankfully to his quarters the voevoda, who could not cease wondering at the poverty and simplicity of the place. For the prince, by so much as he lived like a king in Lubni, by that much did he permit himself no comfort in the field, wishing to give an example to the soldiers. He lived therefore in one room, which the voevoda of Kieff, squeezing through the narrow door, 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 an attendant slept, always ready for service. This simplicity greatly astonished the voevoda, who lived in comfort and carried carpets with him. He entered finally, and gazed with curiosity on the prince, wondering how so great a spirit could find its place in such simplicity and poverty. He had seen Yeremi from time to time at the Diets in Warsaw, was in fact a distant relative of his, but did not know him intimately. Now, when he began to speak with him, he recognized at once that he had to do with an extraordinary man; and he, an old senator and soldier, who used to clap his senatorial colleagues on the shoulders, and say to Prince Dominik Zaslavski, “My dear,” and was familiar with the king himself, could not attain familiarity like this with Vishnyevetski, though the prince received him kindly, for he was thankful for the reinforcements.

  “Worthy voevoda,” said he, “praise be to God that you have come with your 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 that you hasten to save me.”

  “And is there hurry?”

  “Periculum in mora, periculum in mora! Ruffians to the number of several thousand have appeared, with Krívonos at their head, who, as I have heard, was sent against you; but having received information that you had moved on Konstantinoff, he went there, and on the road has invested Makhnovka, and has wrought such desolation that no tongue can describe it.”

  “I have heard of Krívonos, and waited for him here; but since I find that he has missed me, I must seek him. Really the affair will not bide delay. Is there a strong garrison in Makhnovka?”

  “There are two hundred Germans in the castle, very good men, who will hold out yet for some time. But the worst is, that many nobles have assembled in the town with their families, and the place is fortified only by earthworks and palisades, and cannot resist long.”

  “In truth, the affair suffers no delay,” repeated the prince. Then turning to his attendant, he said: “Jelenksi, run for the colonels!”

  The voevoda of Kieff was sitting meanwhile on a bench, and panting. He had some expectation of supper; for he was hungry, and liked good eating.

  Presently the tramp of armed men was heard, and the prince’s officers entered,—black, thin, bearded, with sunken eyes, with traces of indescribable labor on their faces. They bowed in silence to the prince and 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 Krívonos.”

  “Hi!” said the voevoda of Kieff; and he looked in wonderment at Pan Kryshtof, the sub-judge of Bratslav.

  The prince continued: “Ponyatovski and Vershul will march first; after them Baranovski will go with his dragoons, and in an hour we will move with the cannon of Vurtsel.”

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

  “But, your Highness,” said he, “are your soldiers able to reach Makhnovka? 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 a concert.”

  “I see that; I see they are sulphurous fellows. But my men are road-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. The voevoda stared at the under-judge, struck his palms on his knees, and said,—

  “Ah! I have got what I wanted, you see. As God lives, he will kill me with hunger. Here is swimming in hot water for you! I come for aid, and think that after great solicitation they will move in two or three days; but now they won’t give us time to draw breath. May the devil take them! The stirrup-strap has galled my leg; my traitor of an attendant buckled it badly. My stomach is empty. The devil take them! Makhnovka is Makhnovka; but my stomach is my stomach. I am an old soldier, have fought in more wars probably than he has, but never in such 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 eat anything. They look like ghosts, don’t they?”

  “Yes; but they have fiery courage,” answered Pan Kryshtof, who was in love with soldier life. “God bless us, what disorder and tumult in other camps when it comes to marching—how much running, arranging wagons, sending for horses! But now, do you hear? the light cavalry is on the march.”

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

  But young Pan Aksak clasped his boyish hands. “Ah, that is a mighty leader!” said he in ecstasy.

  “Oh, there is milk under your nose!” snapped the voevoda. “Cunctator too 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 worth
y voevoda,” said the prince, laughing and taking hold of him by the shoulder, “forgive me, forgive me! With all my heart. But in war one forgets these things.”

  “Well, Pan Kryshtof, haven’t I told you that they don’t eat?” asked the voevoda, turning to the under-judge of Bratslav.

  The supper did not last long, and a couple of hours later even the infantry had left Raigorod. The army marched through Vinnitsa and Litin to Hmelnik; on the way Vershul met a Tartar party in Saverovka, which he and Volodyovski destroyed, and freed a few hundred captives,—almost all young women. There began the ruined country; all around were traces of the hand of Krívonos. Strijavka was burned, and its population put to death in a terrible manner. Apparently the unfortunates had resisted Krívonos; therefore the savage chief had delivered them to sword and flame. On an oak-tree at the entrance to the village hung Pan Strijovski himself, whom Tishkyevich’s men recognized at once. He was entirely naked, and had around his neck an enormous necklace of heads strung 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 on both sides of the road a long row of “Cossack candles,"—that is, people with hands raised above their heads, and tied to stakes driven into the ground, wound around with straw steeped in pitch and set on fire at the hands. The greater part of them had only their hands burned, for the rain had evidently stopped the further burning. But those bodies were terrible, with their distorted faces and black stumps of hands stretched to heaven. The odor of putrefaction spread round about. Above the stakes whirled circles of ravens and crows, which at the approach of the troops flew away with an uproar from the nearer stakes to sit on the farther ones. A number of wolves galloped off before the regiments to the thicket. The men marched on in silence through the alley, and counted the “candles.” There were between three and four hundred of them.