Pan Michael

"That was Satan!" said the spahis and mamelukes to one another. "Whoso meets that man, to him death is predestined! Satan, no other!"

The Polish skirmishers remained awhile to show that they held the field; then, giving forth three shouts of victory, they withdrew under cover of their guns, from which Pan Pototski gave command to renew fire. But the Turks began to retreat altogether. For a time yet their burnooses gleamed in the sun, and their colored kefis and glittering head-pieces; then the blue sky hid them.

On the field of battle there remained only the Turks and Poles slain with swords. Servants came out from the castle to collect and bury the Poles. Then ravens came to labor at the burial of the Pagans, but their stay was not long, for that evening new legions of the Prophet frightened them away.

CHAPTER LIV

On the following day, the vizir himself arrived before Kamenyets at the head of a numerous army of spahis, janissaries, and the general militia from Asia. It was supposed at once, from the great number of his forces, that he would storm the place; but he wished merely to examine the walls. Engineers came with him to inspect the fortress and earthworks. Pan Myslishevski went out this time against the vizir with infantry and a division of mounted volunteers. They began to skirmish again; the action was favorable for the besieged, though not so brilliant as on the first day. Finally, the vizir commanded the janissaries to move to the walls for a trial. The thunder of cannon shook at once the town and the castle. When the janissaries were near the quarters of Pan Podchaski, all fired at once with a great outburst; but as Pan Podchaski answered from above with very well-directed shots, and there was danger that cavalry might flank the janissaries, they retreated on the Jvanyets road, and returned to the main camp.

In the evening, a certain Cheh (Bohemian) stole into the town; he had been a groom with the aga of the janissaries, and being bastinadoed, had deserted. From him the Poles learned that the Turks had fortified themselves in Jvanyets, and occupied broad fields on this side of Dlujek. They asked the fugitive carefully what the general opinion among the Turks was, – did they think to capture Kamenyets or not? He answered that there was good courage in the army, and the omens were favorable. A couple of days before, there had risen on a sudden from the earth in front of the Sultan's pavilion, as it were a pillar of smoke, slender below, and widening above in the form of a mighty bush. The muftis explained that that portent signified that the glory of the Padishah would reach the heavens, and that he would be the ruler to crush Kamenyets, – an obstacle hitherto invincible. That strengthened hearts greatly in the army. "The Turks," continued the fugitive, "fear Pan Sobieski, and succor; from time past they bear in mind the peril of meeting the troops of the Commonwealth in the open field, though they are willing to meet Venetians, Hungarians, or any other people. But since they have information that there are no troops in the Commonwealth, they think generally that they will take Kamenyets, though not without trouble. Kara Mustafa, the kaimakan, has advised to storm the walls straightway; but the more prudent vizir prefers to invest the town with regular works, and cover it with cannon-balls. The Sultan, after the first skirmishes, has inclined to the opinion of the vizir; therefore it is proper to look for a regular siege."

Thus spoke the deserter. Hearing this news. Pan Pototski and the bishop, the chamberlain, Pan Volodyovski, and all the other chief officers were greatly concerned. They had counted on storms, and hoped with the defensiveness of the place to repulse them with great loss to the enemy. They knew from experience that during storms assailants suffer great losses; that every attack which is repulsed shakes their courage, and adds boldness to the besieged. As the knights at Zbaraj grew enamoured at last of resistance, of battles and sorties, so the inhabitants of Kamenyets might acquire love for battle, especially if every attack ended in defeat for the Turks and victory for the town. But a regular siege, in which the digging of approaches and mines, the planting of guns in position, mean everything, might only weary the besieged, weaken their courage, and make them inclined to negotiation. It was difficult also to count on sorties, for it was not proper to strip the walls of soldiers, and the servants or townspeople, led beyond the walls, could hardly stand before janissaries.

Weighing this, all the superior officers were greatly concerned, and to them a happy result of the defence seemed less likely. In fact, it had small chance of success, not only in view of the Turkish power, but in view of themselves. Pan Volodyovski was an incomparable soldier and very famous, but he had not the majesty of greatness. Whoso bears the sun in himself is able to warm all everywhere; but whoso is a flame, even the most ardent, warms only those who are nearest. So it was with the little knight. He did not know how to pour his spirit into others, and could not, just as he could not give his own skill with the sword. Pan Pototski, the supreme chief, was not a warrior, besides, he lacked faith in himself, in others, in the Commonwealth. The bishop counted on negotiations mainly; his brother had a heavy hand, but also a mind not much lighter. Relief was impossible, for the hetman, Pan Sobieski, though great, was then without power. Without power was the king, without power the whole Commonwealth.

On the 16th of August came the Khan with the horde, and Doroshenko with his Cossacks, and occupied an enormous area on the fields, beginning with Ronen. Sufan Kazi Aga invited Pan Myslishevski that day to an interview, and advised him to surrender the place, for if he did he would receive such favorable conditions as had never been heard of in the history of sieges. The bishop was curious to know what those favors were; but he was shouted down in the council, and a refusal was sent back in answer. On August 18, the Turks began to advance, and with them the Sultan.

They came on like a measureless sea, – infantry, janissaries, spahis. Each pasha led the troops of his own pashalik, therefore inhabitants of Europe, Asia, and Africa. Behind them came an enormous camp with loaded wagons drawn by mules and buffaloes. That hundred-colored swarm, in various dresses and arms, moved without end. From dawn till night those leaders marched without stopping, moved from one place to another, stationed troops, circled about in the fields, pitched tents, which occupied such a space that from the towers and highest points of Kamenyets it was possible in no wise to see fields free from canvas. It seemed to people that snow had fallen and filled the whole region about them. The camp was laid out during salvos of musketry, for the janissaries shielding that work did not cease to fire at the walls of the fortress; from the walls an unbroken cannonade answered. Echoes were thundering from the cliffs; smoke rose and covered the blue of the sky. Toward evening Kamenyets was enclosed in such fashion that nothing save pigeons could leave it. Firing ceased only when the first stars began to twinkle.

For a number of succeeding days firing from the walls and at the walls continued without interruption. The result was great damage to the besiegers; the moment a considerable group of janissaries collected within range, white smoke bloomed out on the walls, balls fell among the janissaries, and they scattered as a flock of sparrows when some one sends fine shot at them from a musket. Meanwhile the Turks, not knowing evidently that in both castles and in the town there were guns of long range, pitched their tents too near. This was permitted, by the advice of Pan Michael; and only when time of rest came, and troops, escaping from heat, had crowded into those tents, did the walls roar with continuous thunder. Then rose a panic; balls tore tents, broke poles, struck soldiers, hurled around sharp fragments of rocks. The janissaries withdrew in dismay and disorder, crying with loud voices; in their retreat they overturned other tents, and carried alarm with them everywhere. On the men disordered in this way Pan Michael fell with cavalry, and cut them till strong bodies of horsemen came to their aid. Ketling directed this fire mainly; besides him, the Polish mayor made the greatest havoc among the Pagans. He bent over every gun, applied the match himself, and covering his eyes with his hand, looked at the result of the shot, and rejoiced in his heart that he was working so effectively.

The Turks were digging approaches, however, making intrenchments and fixing heavy guns in them. But before they began to fire from these guns, an envoy of the Turks came under the walls, and fastening to a dart a letter from the Sultan, showed it to the besieged. Dragoons were sent out; these brought the envoy at once to the castle. The Sultan, summoning the town to surrender, exalted his own might and clemency to the skies.

"My army" (wrote he) "may be compared to the leaves of the forest and the sands of the sea. Look at the heavens; and when you see the countless stars, rouse fear in your hearts, and say one to another, 'Behold, such is the power of the believers!' But because I am a sovereign, gracious above other sovereigns, and a grandson of the God of Justice, I receive my right from above. Know that I hate stubborn men; do not oppose, then, my will; surrender your town. If you resist, you will all perish under the sword, and no voice of man will rise against me."

They considered long what response to give to that letter, and rejected the impolitic counsel of Zagloba to cut off a dog's tail and send it in answer. They despatched a clever man skilled in Turkish; Yuritsa was his name. He bore a letter which read as follows: —

"We do not wish to anger the Sultan, but we do not hold it our duty to obey him, for we have not taken oath to him, but to our own lord. Kamenyets we will not surrender, for an oath binds us to defend the fortresses and churches while our lives last."

After this answer the officers went to their places on the walls. Bishop Lantskoronski and the starosta took advantage of this, and sent a new letter to the Sultan, asking of him an armistice for four weeks. When news of this went along the gates, an uproar and clatter of sabres began. "But I believe," repeated this man and that, "that we are here burning at the guns, and behind our shoulders they are sending letters without our knowledge, though we are members of the council." At the evening kindya the officers went in a body to the starosta, with the little knight and Pan Makovetski at their head, both greatly afflicted at what had happened.

"How is this?" asked Makovetski. "Are you thinking already of surrender, that you have sent a new envoy? Why has this happened without our knowledge?"

"In truth," added the little knight, "since we are called to a council, it is not right to send letters without our knowledge. Neither will we permit any one to mention surrender; if any one wishes to mention it, let him withdraw from authority."

While speaking he was terribly roused; being a soldier of rare obedience, it caused him the utmost pain to speak thus against his superiors. But since he had sworn to defend the castle till his death he thought, "It behooves me to speak thus."

The starosta was confused and answered, "I thought this was done with general consent."

"There is no consent. We will die here!" cried a number of voices.

"I am glad to hear that," said the starosta; "for in me faith is dearer than life, and cowardice has never come near me, and will not. Remain, gracious gentlemen, to supper; we will come to agreement more easily."

But they would not remain.

"Our place is at the gates, not at the table," said the little knight.

At this time the bishop arrived, and learning what the question was, turned at once to Pan Makovetski and Volodyovski.

"Worthy men!" said he, "each has the same thing at heart as you, and no one has mentioned surrender. I sent to ask for an armistice of four weeks; I wrote as follows; 'During that time we will send to our king for succor, and await his instructions, and further that will be which God gives.'"

When the little knight heard this he was excited anew, but this time because rage carried him away, and scorn at such a conception of military matters. He, a soldier since childhood, could not believe his ears, could not believe that any man would propose a truce to an enemy, so as to have time himself to send for succor.

The little knight looked at Makovetski and then at other officers; they looked at him. "Is this a jest?" asked a number of voices. Then all were silent.

"I fought through the Tartar, Cossack, Moscow, and Swedish wars," said Pan Michael, at last, "and I have never heard of such reasons. The Sultan has not come hither to please us, but himself. How will he consent to an armistice, when we write to him that at the end of that time we expect aid?"

"If he does not agree, there will be nothing different from what there is now," said the bishop.

"Whoso begs for an armistice exhibits fear and weakness, and whoso looks for succor mistrusts his own power. The Pagan dog believes this of us from that letter, and thereby irreparable harm has been done."

"I might be somewhere else," said the bishop; "and because I did not desert my flock in time of need, I endure reprimand."

The little knight was sorry at once for the worthy prelate; therefore he took him by the knees, kissed his hands, and said, —

"God keep me from giving any reprimand here; but since there is a council, I utter what experience dictates to me."

"What is to be done, then? Let the fault be mine; but what is to be done? How repair the evil?" asked the bishop.

"How repair the evil?" repeated Volodyovski.

And thinking a moment, he raised his head joyously, —

"Well, it is possible. Gracious gentlemen, I pray you to follow me."

He went out, and after him the officers. A quarter of an hour later all Kamenyets was trembling from the thunder of cannon. Volodyovski rushed out with volunteers; and falling upon sleeping janissaries in the approaches, ha slashed them till he scattered and drove the whole force to the tabor.

Then he returned to the starosta, with whom he found the bishop. "Here," said he, joyously, – "here is help for you."

CHAPTER LV

After that sortie the night was passed in desultory firing; at daylight it was announced that a number of Turks were standing near the castle, waiting till men were sent out to negotiate. Happen what might, it was needful to know what they wanted; therefore Pan Makovetski and Pan Myslishevski were appointed at the council to go out to the Pagans.

A little later Pan Kazimir Humyetski joined them, and they went forth. There were three Turks, – Muhtar Bey, Salomi, the pasha of Rushchuk, and the third Kozra, an interpreter. The meeting took place under the open sky outside the gate of the castle. The Turks, at sight of the envoys, began to bow, putting their finger-tips to their hearts, mouths, and foreheads; the Poles greeted them politely, asking why they had come. To this Salomi answered, —

"Dear men! a great wrong has been done to our lord, over which all who love justice must weep; and for which He who was before the ages will punish you, if you do not correct it straightway. Behold, you sent out of your own will Yuritsa, who beat with the forehead to our vizir and begged him for a cessation of arms. When we, trusting in your virtue, went out of the trenches, you began to fire at us from cannon, and rushing out from behind walls, covered the road with corpses as far as the tents of the Padishah; which proceeding cannot remain without punishment, unless you surrender at once the castles and the town, and show great regret and repentance."

To this Makovetski gave answer, —

"Yuritsa is a dog, who exceeded his instructions, for he ordered his attendant to hang out a white flag, for which he will be judged. The bishop on his own behalf inquired privately if an armistice might be arranged; but you did not cease to fire in time of sending those letters. I myself am a witness of that, for broken stones wounded me in the mouth; wherefore you have not the right to ask us to cease firing. If you come now with an armistice ready, it is well; if not, tell your lord, dear men, that we will defend the walls and the town as before, until we perish, or what is more certain, till you perish, in these rocks. We have nothing further to give you, except wishes that God may increase your days, and permit you to live to old age."

After this conversation the envoys separated straightway. The Turks returned to the vizir; Makovetski, Humyetski, and Myslishevski to the castle. They were covered with questions as to how they had sent off the envoys. They related the Turkish declaration.

"Do not receive it, dear brothers," said Kazimir Humyetski. "In brief, these dogs wish that we should give up the keys of the town before evening."

To this many voices gave answer, repeating the favorite expression, —

"That Pagan dog will not grow fat with us. We will not surrender; we will drive him away in confusion. We do not want him."