Pan Michael: An Historical Novel of Poland, the Ukraine, and Turkey

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  Pan Michael was not idle in his stanitsa, and his men lived inperpetual toil. One hundred, sometimes a smaller number, remained as agarrison in Hreptyoff; the rest were on expeditions continually. Themore considerable detachments were sent to clear out the ravines ofUshytsa; and they lived, as it were, in endless warfare, for bands ofrobbers, frequently very numerous, offered powerful resistance, andmore than once it was needful to fight with them regular battles. Suchexpeditions lasted days, and at times tens of days. Pan Michael sentsmaller parties as far as Bratslav for news of the horde andDoroshenko. The task of these parties was to bring in informants, andtherefore to capture them on the steppes. Some went down the Dniesterto Mohiloff and Yampol, to maintain connection with commandants inthose places; some watched on the Moldavian side; some built bridgesand repaired the old road.

  The country in which such a considerable activity reigned becamepacified gradually; those of the inhabitants who were more peaceful,and less enamoured of robbery, returned by degrees to their desertedhabitations, at first stealthily, then with more confidence. A fewJewish handicraftsmen came up to Hreptyoff itself; sometimes a moreconsiderable Armenian merchant looked in; shopkeepers visited the placemore frequently: Volodyovski had therefore a not barren hope that ifGod and the hetman would permit him to remain a longer time in command,that country which had grown wild would assume another aspect. Thatwork was merely the beginning; there was a world of things yet to bedone: the roads were still dangerous; the demoralized people enteredinto friendship more readily with robbers than with troops, and for anycause hid themselves again in the rocky gorges; the fords of theDnieper were often passed stealthily by bands made up of Wallachians,Cossacks, Hungarians, Tartars, and God knows what people. These sentraids through the country, attacking in Tartar fashion villages andtowns, gathering up everything which let itself be gathered; for a timeyet it was impossible to drop a sabre from the hand in those regions,or to hang a musket on a nail; still a beginning was made, and thefuture promised to be favorable.

  It was necessary to keep the most sensitive ear toward the easternside. From Doroshenko's forces and his allied chambuls were detached atshort intervals parties larger or smaller; and while attacking thePolish commands, they spread devastation and fire in the region about.But since these parties were independent, or at least seemed so, thelittle knight crushed them without fear of bringing a greater storm onthe country; and without ceasing in his resistance, he sought themhimself in the steppe so effectually that in time he made attackdisgusting to the boldest.

  Meanwhile Basia managed affairs in Hreptyoff. She was delightedimmensely with that soldier-life which she had never seen before soclosely,--the movement, marches, returns of expeditions, the prisoners.She told the little knight that she must take part in one expedition atleast; but for the time she was forced to be satisfied with this, thatshe sat on her pony occasionally, and visited with her husband andZagloba the environs of Hreptyoff. On such expeditions she hunted foxesand bustards; sometimes the fox stole out of the grass and shot alongthrough the valleys. Then they chased him; but Basia kept in front tothe best of her power, right after the dogs, so as to fall on thewearied beast first and thunder into his red eyes from her pistol. PanZagloba liked best to hunt with falcons, of which the officers had anumber of pairs very well trained.

  Basia accompanied him too; but after Basia Pan Michael sent secretly anumber of tens of men to give aid in emergency, for though it was knownalways in Hreptyoff what men were doing in the desert for twenty milesaround, Pan Michael preferred to be cautious. The soldiers loved Basiamore every day, for she took pains with their food and drink; shenursed the sick and wounded. Even the sullen Mellehovich, whose headpained him continually, and who had a harder and a wilder heart thanothers, grew bright at the sight of her. Old soldiers were in rapturesover her knightly daring and close knowledge of military affairs.

  "If the Little Falcon were gone," said they, "she might take command,and it would not be grievous to fall under such a leader."

  At times it happened too that when some disorder arose in the serviceduring Pan Michael's absence, Basia reprimanded the soldiers, andobedience to her was great; old warriors were more grieved by reprovalfrom her mouth than by punishment, which the veteran Pan Michaelinflicted unsparingly for dereliction of duty. Great discipline reignedalways in the command, for Volodyovski, reared in the school of PrinceYeremi, knew how to hold soldiers with an iron hand; and, moreover, thepresence of Basia softened wild manners somewhat. Every man tried toplease her; every man thought of her rest and comfort; hence theyavoided whatever might annoy her.

  In the light squadron of Pan Nikolai Pototski there were many officers,experienced and polite, who, though they had grown rough in continualwars and adventures, still formed a pleasant company. These, with theofficers from other squadrons, often spent an evening with the colonel,telling of events and wars in which they had taken part personally.Among these Pan Zagloba held the first place. He was the oldest, hadseen most and done much; but when, after one and the second goblet, hewas dozing in a comfortable stuffed chair, which was brought for himpurposely, others began. And they had something to tell, for there weresome who had visited Sweden and Moscow; there were some who had passedtheir years of youth at the Saitch before the days of Hmelnitski; therewere some who as captives had herded sheep in the Crimea; who inslavery had dug wells in Bagchesarai; who had visited Asia Minor; whohad rowed through the Archipelago in Turkish galleys; who had beatenwith their foreheads on the grave of Christ in Jerusalem; who hadexperienced every adventure and every mishap, and still had appearedagain under the flag to defend to the end of their lives, to the lastbreath, those border regions steeped in blood.

  When in November the evenings became longer and there was peace on theside of the broad steppe, for the grass had withered, they used toassemble in the colonel's house daily. Hither came Pan Motovidlo, theleader of the Cossacks,--a Russian by blood, a man lean as pincers andtall as a lance, no longer young; he had not left the field for twentyyears and more. Pan Deyma came too, the brother of that one who hadkilled Pan Ubysh; and with them Pan Mushalski, a man formerly wealthy,but who, taken captive in early years, had rowed in a Turkish galley,and escaping from bondage, had left his property to others, and withsabre in hand was avenging his wrongs on the race of Mohammed. He wasan incomparable bowman, who, when he chose, pierced with an arrow aheron in its lofty flight. There came also the two partisans. Pan Vilgaand Pan Nyenashinyets, great soldiers, and Pan Hromyka and PanBavdynovich, and many others. When these began to tell tales and tothrow forth words quickly, the whole Oriental world was seen in theirnarratives,--Bagchesarai and Stambul, the minarets and sanctuaries ofthe false prophet, the blue waters of the Bosphorus, the fountains, andthe palace of the Sultan, the swarms of men in the stone city, thetroops, the janissaries, the dervishes, and that whole terriblelocust-swarm, brilliant as a rainbow, against which the Commonwealthwith bleeding breast was defending the Russian cross, and after it allthe crosses and churches in Europe.

  The old soldiers sat in a circle in the broad room, like a flock ofstorks which, wearied with flying, had settled on some grave-mound ofthe steppe and were making themselves heard with great uproar. In thefireplace logs of pitch-pine were burning, casting out sharp gleamsthrough the whole room. Moldavian wine was heated at the fire by theorder of Basia; and attendants dipped it with tin dippers and gave itto the knights. From outside the walls came the calls of the sentries;the crickets, of which Pan Michael had complained, were chirping in theroom and whistling sometimes in the chinks stuffed with moss; theNovember wind, blowing from the north, grew more and more chilly.During such cold it was most agreeable to sit in a comfortable,well-lighted room, and listen to the adventures of the knights.

  On such an evening Pan Mushalski spoke as follows:--

  "May the Most High have in His protection the whole sacredCommonwealth, us all, and among us especially her grace, the lady her
epresent, the worthy wife of our commander, on whose beauty our eyes arescarcely worthy to gaze. I have no wish to rival Pan Zagloba, whoseadventures would have roused the greatest wonder in Dido herself andher charming attendants; but if you, gentlemen, will give time to hearmy adventures, I will not delay, lest I offend the honorable company.

  "In youth I inherited in the Ukraine a considerable estate nearTarashcha. I had two villages from my mother in a peaceable region nearYaslo; but I chose to live in my father's place, since it was nearerthe horde and more open to adventure. Knightly daring drew me towardthe Saitch, but for us there was nothing there at that time; I went tothe Wilderness in company with restless spirits, and experienceddelight. It was pleasant for me on my lands; one thing alone pained mekeenly,--I had a bad neighbor. He was a mere peasant, fromByalotserkov, who had been in his youth at the Saitch, where he rose tothe office of kuren ataman, and was an envoy from the Cossacks toWarsaw, where he became a noble. His name was Didyuk. And you,gentlemen, must know that the Mushalskis derive their descent from acertain chief of the Samnites, called Musca, which in our tongue means_mucha_ (fly). That Musca, after fruitless attacks on the Romans, cameto the court of Zyemovit, the son of Piast, who renamed him, forgreater convenience, Muscalski, which later on his posterity changed toMushalski. Feeling that I was of such noble blood, I looked with greatabomination on that Didyuk. If the scoundrel had known how to respectthe honor which met him, and to recognize the supreme perfection of therank of noble above all others, perhaps I might have said nothing. Buthe, while holding land like a noble, mocked at the dignity, and saidfrequently: 'Is my shadow taller now? I was a Cossack, and a CossackI'll remain; but nobility and all you devils of Poles are that forme--' I cannot in this place relate to you, gentlemen, what foulgesture he made, for the presence of her grace, the lady, will not inany way permit me to do so. But a wild rage seized me, and I began topersecute him. He was not afraid; he was a resolute man, and paid mewith interest. I would have attacked him with a sabre; but I did notlike to do so, in view of his insignificant origin. I hated him as theplague, and he pursued me with venom. Once, on the square in Tarashcha,he fired at me, and came within one hair of killing me; in return, Iopened his head with a hatchet. Twice I invaded his house with myservants, and twice he fell upon mine with his ruffians. He could notmaster me, neither could I overcome him. I wished to use law againsthim; bah! what kind of law is there in the Ukraine, when ruins of townsare still smoking? Whoever can summon ruffians in the Ukraine may jeerat the Commonwealth. So did he do, blaspheming besides this commonmother of ours, not remembering for a moment that she, by raising himto the rank of noble, had pressed him to her bosom, given himprivileges in virtue of which he owned land and that boundless libertywhich he could not have had under any other rule. If we could have metin neighbor fashion, arguments would not have failed me; but we did notsee each other except with a musket in one hand and a firebrand in theother. Hatred increased in me daily, until I had grown yellow. I wasthinking always of one thing,--how to seize him. I felt, however, thathatred was a sin; and I only wished, in return for his insults tonobility, to tear his skin with sticks, and then, forgiving him all hissins, as beseemed me, a true Christian, to give command to shoot himdown simply. But the Lord God ordained otherwise.

  "Beyond the village I had a nice bee farm, and went one day to look atit. The time was near evening. I was there barely the length of ten'Our Fathers,' when some clamor struck my ears. I looked around. Smokelike a cloud was over the village. In a moment men were rushing towardme. The horde! the horde! And right there behind the men a legion, Itell you. Arrows were flying as thickly as drops in a rain shower; andwherever I looked, sheep-skin coats and the devilish snouts of thehorde. I sprang to horse! But before I could touch the stirrup with myfoot, five or six lariats were on me. I tore away, for I was strongthen. _Nec Hercules!_ Three months afterward I found myself withanother captive in a Crimean village beyond Bagchesarai. Salma Bey wasthe name of my master. He was a rich Tartar, but a sullen man and cruelto captives. We had to work under clubs, to dig wells, and toil in thefields. I wished to ransom myself; I had the means to do so. Through acertain Armenian I wrote letters to Yaslo. I know not whether theletters were delivered, or the ransom intercepted; it is enough thatnothing came. They took me to Tsargrad[18] and sold me to be agalley-slave.

  "There is much to tell of that city, for I know not whether there is agreater and a more beautiful one in the world. People are there asnumerous as grass on the steppe, or as stones in the Dniester; strongbattlemented walls; tower after tower. Dogs wander through the citytogether with the people; the Turks do not harm them, because they feeltheir relationship, being dog brothers themselves. There are no otherranks with them but lords and slaves, and there is nothing moregrievous than Pagan captivity. God knows whether it is true, but Iheard in the galleys that the waters in Tsargrad, such as theBosphorus, and the Golden Horn too, which enters the heart of the city,have come from tears shed by captives. Not a few of mine were shedthere.

  "Terrible is the Turkish power, and to no potentate are so many kingssubject as to the Sultan. The Turks themselves say that were it not forLehistan,--thus they name our mother,--they would have been lords ofthe earth long ago. 'Behind the shoulders of the Pole,' say they, 'therest of the world live in injustice; for the Pole,' say they, 'lieslike a dog in front of the cross, and bites our hands.' And they areright, for it is that way, and it will be that way. And we here inHreptyoff and the commands farther on in Mohiloff, in Yampol, inRashkoff,--what else are we doing? There is a world of wickedness inour Commonwealth; but still I think that God will account to us forthis service sometime, and perhaps men too will account to us.

  "But now I will return to what happened to me. The captives who live onland, in towns and villages, groan in less suffering than those who rowin galleys. For the galley-slaves when once riveted on the bench nearthe oars are never unriveted, day or night, or festival; they must livethere in chains till they die; and if the vessel goes down in a battle,they must go with it. They are all naked; the cold freezes them; therain wets them; hunger pinches them; and for that there is no help buttears and terrible toil, for the oars are so heavy and large that twomen are needed at one of them.

  "They brought me in the night and riveted my chains, having put me infront of some comrade in misery whom in the darkness I could notdistinguish. When I heard that beating of the hammer and the sound ofthe fetters, dear God! it seemed to me that they were driving the nailsof my coffin; I would have preferred even that. I prayed, but hope inmy heart was as if the wind had blown it away. A kavadji stifled mygroans with blows; I sat there in silence all night, till day began tobreak. I looked then on him who was to work the same oar with me. Odear Jesus Christ! can you guess who was in front of me, gentlemen?Didyuk!

  "I knew him at once, though he was naked, had grown thin, and the beardhad come down to his waist,--for he had been sold long before to thegalleys. I gazed on him, and he on me; he recognized me. We said not aword to each other. See what had come to us! Still, there was suchrancor in both that not only did we not greet each other, but hatredburst up like a flame in us, and delight seized the heart of each thathis enemy had to suffer the same things as he. That very day the galleymoved on its voyage. It was strange to hold one oar with your bitterestenemy, to eat from one dish with him food which at home with us dogswould not eat, to endure the same tyranny, to breathe the same air, tosuffer together, to weep face to face. We sailed through theHellespont, and then the Archipelago. Island after island is there, andall in the power of the Turk. Both shores also,--a whole world! Oh, howwe suffered! In the day, heat indescribable. The sun burned with suchforce that the waters seemed to flame from it; and when those flamesbegan to quiver and dance on the waves, you would have said that afiery rain was falling. Sweat poured from us, and our tongues cleavedto the roofs of our mouths. At night the cold bit us like a dog. Solacefrom no place; nothing but suffering, sorrow for lost happiness,torment and pain. Words cannot te
ll it. At one station in the Grecianland we saw from the galley famous ruins of a temple which the Greeksreared in old times. Column stands there by column; as if gold, thatmarble is yellow from age. All was seen clearly, for it was on a steepheight, and the sky is like turquoise in Greece. Then we sailed onaround the Morea. Day followed day, week followed week; Didyuk and Ihad not exchanged a word, for pride and rancor dwelt still in ourhearts. But we began to break slowly under God's hand. From toil andchange of air the sinful flesh was falling from our bones; wounds,given by the lash, were festering in the sun. In the night we prayedfor death. When I dozed a little, I heard Didyuk say, 'O Christ, havemercy! Holy Most Pure, have mercy! Let me die.' He also heard and sawhow I stretched forth my hands to the Mother of God and her Child. Andhere it was as if the sea had blown hatred from the heart. There wasless of it, and then less. At last, when I had wept over myself, I weptover him. We looked on each other then differently. Nay! we began tohelp each other. When sweating and deathly weariness came on me, herowed alone; when he was in a similar state, I did the same for him.When they brought a plate of food, each one considered that the otherought to have it. But, gentlemen, see what the nature of man is!Speaking plainly, we loved each other already, but neither wished tosay the word first. The rogue was in him, the Ukraine spirit!We changed only when it had become terribly hard for us andgrievous, and we said to-day, 'to-morrow we shall meet the Venetianfleet--' Provisions too were scarce, and they spared everything on usbut the lash. Night came; we were groaning in quiet, and he in his way,I in mine, were praying still more earnestly. I looked by the light ofthe moon; tears were flowing down his beard in a torrent. My heartrose, and I said, 'Didyuk, we are from the same parts; let us forgiveeach other our offences.' When he heard this, dear God! didn't the mansob, and pull till his chains rattled! We fell into each other's armsover the oar, kissing each other and weeping. I cannot tell you howlong we held each other, for we forgot ourselves, but we were tremblingfrom sobs."

  Here Pan Mushalski stopped, and began to remove something from aroundhis eyes with his fingers. A moment of silence followed; but the coldnorth wind whistled from between the beams, and in the room the firehissed and the crickets chirped. Then Pan Mushalski panted, drew a deepbreath, and continued:--

  "The Lord God, as will appear, blessed us and showed us His favor; butat the time we paid bitterly for our brotherly feeling. While we wereembracing, we entangled the chains so that we could not untangle them.The overseers came and extricated us, but the lash whistled above usfor more than an hour. They beat us without looking where. Blood flowedfrom me, flowed also from Didyuk; the two bloods mingled and went inone stream to the sea. But that is nothing! it is an old story--to theglory of God!

  "From that time it did not come to my head that I was descended fromthe Samnites, and Didyuk a peasant from Byalotserkov, recentlyennobled. I could not have loved my own brother more than I loved him.Even if he had not been ennobled, it would have been one to me,--thoughI preferred that he should be a noble. And he, in old fashion, as oncehe had returned hatred with interest, now returned love. Such was hisnature.

  "There was a battle on the following day. The Venetians scattered tothe four winds the Turkish fleet. Our galley, shattered terribly by aculverin, took refuge at some small desert island, simply a rocksticking out of the sea. It was necessary to repair it; and since thesoldiers had perished, and hands were lacking, the officers were forcedto unchain us and give us axes. The moment we landed I glanced atDidyuk; but the same thing was in his head that was in mine. 'Shall itbe at once?' inquired he of me. 'At once!' said I; and without thinkingfurther, I struck the chubachy on the head; and Didyuk struck thecaptain. After us others rose like a flame! In an hour we had finishedthe Turks; then we repaired the galley somehow, took our seats in itwithout chains, and the Merciful God commanded the winds to blow us toVenice.

  "We reached the Commonwealth on begged bread. I divided my estate atYaslo with Didyuk, and we both took the field again to pay for ourtears and our blood. At the time of Podhaytse Didyuk went through theSaitch to join Sirka, and with him to the Crimea. What they did thereand what a diversion they made, you, gentlemen, know.

  "On his way home Didyuk, sated with vengeance, was killed by an arrow.I was left; and as often as I stretch a bow, I do it for him, and thereare not wanting in this honorable company witnesses to testify that Ihave delighted his soul in that way more than once."

  Here Pan Mushalski was silent, and again nothing was to be heard butthe whistling of the north wind and the crackling of the fire. The oldwarrior fixed his glance on the flaming logs, and after a long silenceconcluded as follows:--

  "Nalevaiko and Loboda have been; Hmelnitski has been; and nowDoroshenko has come. The earth is not dried of blood; we are wranglingand fighting, and still God has sown in our hearts some seeds of love,and they lie in barren ground, as it were, till under the oppressionand under the chain of the Pagan, till from Tartar captivity, they givefruit unexpectedly."

  "Trash is trash!" said Zagloba, waking up suddenly.