The Knights of the Cross/Volume 2/Chapter 77

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

CHAPTER LXXVII.

The Grand Master Conrad died only a year later. Yasko of Zgorzelitse, Yagenka's brother, first heard the news in Sieradz, both of his death and of the election of Ulrich von Jungingen; he was the first also to bring it to Bogdanets, where, as well as in all noble houses, it shook souls and hearts to their depth. "Such times are come as have not been hitherto," said old Matsko, with solemnity, while Yagenka brought at the first moment all the children to Zbyshko, and began herself to take farewell of him, as if he had to set out next morning.

Matsko and Zbyshko knew, it is true, that war would not break out as suddenly as fire in a chimney, but nevertheless they believed that it would come to war, and they began to prepare. They chose horses, arms, exercised their attendants and servants in the military art,—the mayors of villages managing by German law, who were obliged to appear in expeditions on horseback, and the poorer nobles and possessors were glad to join themselves to the more wealthy. The same thing was done on all other estates. Everywhere hammers were beating in forges, everywhere men were cleaning old armor, rubbing bows and straps with tallow melted in kettles, wagons were ironed, supplies of provisions, both grits and dried meat, were prepared. In churches on Sundays and holidays people inquired for news; they were sad when tidings of peace came, for every man carried deep in his soul the conviction that there was absolute need to finish immediately with that dreadful enemy of the whole Polish race, and that the kingdom could not flourish in strength, peace, and labor till, according to the words of Saint Bridget, the teeth of the Order were broken and its right hand cut from it.

In Kresnia more especially did men gather around Matsko and Zbyshko as persons who knew the Order and knew what war with the Germans was. People not only asked news of them, but inquired about methods against the Germans. "How are we to fight best with them?" asked they. "What is their style of warfare? In what are they superior to the Poles, and in what inferior? When lances are broken, is it easier to smash the armor on them with an axe, or is a sword better?"

In truth Matsko and his nephew were expert in these things, so people listened to them with great attention, all the more since the conviction was universal that the war would not be easy, that the Poles would have to measure themselves with the foremost knights of all nations, and not be satisfied with crushing the enemy at this point or that, but crush thoroughly "to the foundation," or perish utterly. So nobles said then among one another and among landowners: "Since it is necessary, we must go through it,—their death or ours." And to that generation of men who bore in their souls a prophetic feeling of coming greatness this did not decrease willingness,—on the contrary, it increased that willingness every day and hour; but they approached the work without empty boasting and self-praise, or rather they approached it with a certain resolute concentration, with gravity, and prepared for death.

"Destruction is written down for them or for us."

But meanwhile time passed and extended, and there was no war. There were reports, it is true, of disagreements between King Vladislav Yagello and the Order, and also reports touching the land of Dobryn, which had been purchased years before, and touching boundary disputes and a certain Drezdenko of which they heard then much for the first time, but concerning which both sides were disputing, as was said; but there was no war. Some began to doubt if there would be, for there had always been disputes, but they ended usually in meetings, negotiations, and the despatch of envoys. In fact news went out that this time two certain envoys of the Order had come to Cracow, while Polish envoys had gone to Malborg. There were reports of mediation by the kings of Bohemia and Hungary, and even by the Pope himself. At a distance from Cracow people knew nothing in detail, hence various, though frequently strange and impossible, reports circulated through the country; but there was no war.

At last even Matsko, within whose memory not a few threats of war had been made and negotiations had taken place, did not know what to think of the whole situation, so he set out for Cracow to obtain more reliable data. He did not remain long in the city, for on the sixth week he returned, and returned with a face greatly brightened; so when the nobility, curious for news, as usual surrounded him in Kresnia, he answered their numerous queries with the question,—

"Well, are your lances and spears and axes sharpened?"

"But what? Well now! By the wounds of God! what news? Whom have you seen?" called out people from all sides.

"Whom have I seen? Zyndram of Mashkovitse! But what news? Such news that ye will have to saddle your horses at once, I think."

"As God is true! How is that? Tell."

"Have ye heard of Drezdenko?"

"Of course we have heard. But the little castle is like many a one, and there is no more land there than with you in Bogdanets, we think."

"That is a vain cause for war—is it not?"

"Of course it is a vain cause for war. There were greater, but afterward nothing came of them."

"But do ye know what a saying Zyndram uttered because of Drezdenko?"

"Tell quickly, for the caps are burning our heads!"

"He said this to me: 'A blind man was going along the road and he fell over a stone. He fell because he was blind, still a stone was the cause of his fall.' This Drezdenko is such a stone."

"How is that? How? But the Order is standing yet."

"Ye do not understand? Then I will tell you again in this way. If a vessel is too full one drop will make the liquid in it overflow."

Such great enthusiasm seized those knights that Matsko had to restrain it, for they wished to mount their horses and ride to Sieradz.

"Be ready," said he, "but wait patiently. They will not forget us, be sure."

So the people continued in readiness, but they waited long, so long indeed that some began to doubt a second time.

But Matsko did not doubt, for as the coming of birds announces spring, he, as a man of experience, knew how to infer from various signs that war was approaching, and a great war.

First of all, such immense hunts had been ordered in all forests and wildernesses of the crown as the oldest men could not remember. Beaters were assembled in thousands to drive in game. In these hunts fell whole herds of buffaloes, bulls, deer, wild boar, and also smaller animals. The forests were smoking for entire weeks; meat was dried, smoked, salted for future use and sent to the chief towns of provinces, and thence to be stored at Plotsk. It was evident that the question was one of supplies for great armies. Matsko knew well what to think of this, for Vitold had ordered the very same kind of hunts before each large expedition to Lithuania. But there were other signs also. For instance, peasants had begun to flee in crowds from "under the German" to the kingdom and to Mazovia. To the district of Bogdanets mainly the subjects of German knights in Silesia had come, but people saw that everywhere the same movement was going on, but especially in Mazovia. Hlava, who was managing in Spyhov in Mazovia sent from there between ten and twenty Mazovians who had fled to him from Prussia. These men had begged permission to take part in the war "on foot," for they wished to avenge wrongs on the Knights whom they hated with all their souls. They said that some boundary villages in Prussia were almost wholly deserted, for the free land tillers had moved out of them with their wives and children to the Mazovian Principalities.

The Knights of the Cross hanged, it is true, all fugitives whom they caught, but nothing could restrain the unfortunate people, and many a one of them preferred to die rather than live under the terrible yoke of the Germans. Later "grandfathers" (minstrels) from Prussia swarmed through the whole kingdom. All went to Cracow. They came from Dantzig, from Malborg, from Torun, and even from distant Krolevets, from all Prussian towns and from all places where there were commandants. Among them were not only minstrels, but sextons, organists, various cloister servants, and even clerics and priests. It was thought that they would bring information touching everything carried out in Prussia, such as: military preparations, strengthening of castles, garrisons, mercenary troops, and foreign officers. In fact people whispered to one another that the voevodas in the chief towns of provinces, and, in Cracow, members of the city council, had shut themselves in with those visitors for whole hours, listening to them and writing down the facts which they gave. Some went back unobserved to Prussia and then returned anew to the kingdom. News came from Cracow that the king and the lords of the council knew through them of every step taken by the Knights of the Cross.

The opposite took place in Malborg. A certain spiritual personage who had fled from that capital stopped at Konietspole and told the masters there that Ulrich von Jungingen and other Knights of the Order did not trouble themselves about news from Poland, feeling certain that with one blow they would conquer and overturn all the kingdom, "so that not a trace would be left of it." He repeated therewith the words of the Grand Master Ulrich uttered at a feast in Malborg: "The more there are of them the cheaper will sheepskin coats be in Prussia." Hence they prepared for war with delight and intoxication, confident in their own strength, and in the aid which all, even the most distant kingdoms, would send them; but in spite of these signs of war preparations and efforts, the war did not come so quickly as people wished.

It was tedious at home for Zbyshko of Bogdanets also. All things had long since been made ready, the soul in him was rushing forth to battle and to glory, hence each day's delay annoyed him. and frequently he mentioned this to his uncle, just as if war or peace depended on Matsko.

"You see you promised to a certainty that it would come, and now there is nothing and nothing," said Zbyshko.

"Thou art wise, but not very!" answered Matsko. "Dost thou not see what is happening?"

"But if the king at the last hour agrees? They say that he does not want war."

"They say so, for he does not. But who, if not he, shouted: 'I should not be a king were I to permit them to take Drezdenko! ' but as the Germans took Drezdenko they keep it to this hour. Of course the king does not wish to spill Christian blood, but the lords of the council who have quick wit, feeling the superior power of the Poles, are pushing the Germans to the wall—and I may say this to thee, that if Drezdenko were not in question, something else would be discovered."

"As I have heard, the Grand Master Conrad himself took Drezdenko, and he feared the king, surely."

"He feared him, for he knew Polish strength better than others, but even he was unable to restrain the greed of the Order. In Cracow they told me as follows: Old von Ost, the heir of Drezdenko, at the time when the Knights seized Nova Marchia, did homage as feudatory of the king, for that had been Polish land for ages, so he wished to belong to the kingdom. But the Knights of the Cross invited him to Malborg, made him drunk with wine, and enticed from him a document. Then the king's patience failed him at last."

"By my faith it must have failed him!" exclaimed Zbyshko.

"It is as Zyndram said," added Matsko. "Drezdenko is only a stone over which the blind man stumbled."

"If the Germans give up Drezdenko, what will happen?"

"Another stone will be discovered. But the Order will not give up that which it has once swallowed, unless we open its stomach, and God grant us soon to do that."

"No!" cried Zbyshko, strengthened in spirit, "Conrad might have surrendered it, Ulrich will not. He is a true knight on whom there is no stain, but he is terribly passionate."

So they conversed with each other, and meanwhile an event came like a stone which, pushed down a steep mountain-path by the foot of a traveller, rushes to the abyss with ever growing impetus. Suddenly the news thundered throughout the whole country that the Knights had attacked and plundered Santok, which had been mortgaged to the Yohánites. The new Grand Master, Ulrich, when the Polish envoys came to congratulate him on his election, left Malborg purposely. From the first moment of his government he commanded to use German instead of Latin in communications with the king and Poland, and thus showed at last what he was. The lords at Cracow, who were urging to war in secret, understood that he was urging to it publicly, and not only publicly, but blindly and with such insolence toward the Polish people as the Grand Masters had never shown, even when their power was really greater and the kingdom was less than at that time.

But dignitaries of the Order, less passionate and craftier than Ulrich, men who knew Vitold, strove to win him to their side by gifts, and used flattery which passed every measure so that one would have had to seek for its like in those times when temples and altars were reared to Roman Cæsars while still living. "The Order has two benefactors," said the envoys of the Order as they bowed down before the viceroy of Yagello: "the first is God, the second Vitold, for this reason every wish and every word of Vitold is sacred for the Knights of the Cross." And they implored Vitold to mediate in the affair of Drezdenko with this idea, that if, as a subject of the king, he would undertake to judge his superior, he would offend him thereby, and the good relations between them would be broken, if not forever, at least for a long time. But since the lords who formed the council in Cracow knew of everything which was done and planned in Malborg, the king also chose Vitold as arbiter.

And the Order regretted the choice. The dignitaries of the Order to whom it seemed that they knew the Grand Prince, did not know him sufficiently, for Vitold not only adjudged Drezdenko to the Poles, but, knowing also, and divining how the affair must end, roused Jmud again and more fiercely,—showing a more and more threatening visage to the Order, he began to assist Jmud with men, with weapons, and with grain sent from fertile lands in Poland.

When this took place all,—throughout every land of the immense State, understood that the decisive hour had struck.

It had struck indeed.

Once in Bogdanets, when old Matsko, Zbyshko and Yagenka were sitting in front of the castle gate, enjoying the warmth and the marvellous weather, an unknown man appeared suddenly on a foaming horse, he reined back his steed before the gate, threw at the feet of the Knights something that looked like a garland woven from the osier and the common willow. Then he shouted:"Vitsi! Vitsi!" (the summons, the summons) and shot away.

They sprang to their feet in great excitement. Matsko's face became threatening and solemn. Zbyshko stepped forward to urge the messenger to hasten on with his summons; then he turned with fire in his eyes, and shouted,—

"War! God has given it at last! War!"

"And not such a war as we have seen before, but a great one!" added Matsko, with solemnity.

Then he turned to the servants, who in one moment gathered around their master.

"Sound horns on the watch tower toward the four sides of the world!" shouted he; "and let others run to the villages for the mayors! Bring out the horses and attach them to the wagons! Do it in a breath!!"

His voice had not ceased to sound yet when the servants hurried in different directions to carry out his orders, which, moreover, were not difficult, since all had been ready long before: men, wagons, horses, armor, arms, provisions. The knights had nothing to do but take their seats and drive on.

But before starting Zbyshko asked Matsko,—

"Will you not remain at home?"

"I? What is in thy head?"

"According to law you can stay, for you are a man of advanced years, and there should be some protector for Yagenka and the children."

"Well, listen to that! I have waited to white hairs for this hour."

It sufficed to look at his cold, resolute face to know that words were of no use in that case. Besides, notwithstanding his seventh cross,^[1] the man was as sound as an oak, yet; his arms moved easily in their joints, and an axe wielded by them just whistled through the air. He could not, it is true, spring in full armor on to a horse without touching the stirrups, but there were many young men, especially knights of western Europe, who could not do that either; he had immense training, however, in knightly deeds, and in all that region there was not a warrior of more experience.

It was evident also that Yagenka had no fear of remaining alone, for on hearing her husband's words she rose, kissed his hand, and said,—

"Be not troubled about me, dear Zbyshko, for the castle is a good one; and know this, that I am not over timid; to me neither crossbow nor lance is a novelty. It is not the time now to think of wife and children, when there is need to save the country. God will be our guardian."

Her eyes filled quickly with tears, which rolled down in great drops on her beautiful lily-like face, and pointing to the group of children she spoke on with emotion, and a quivering voice,—

"Hei! were it not for those little ones, I should lie at thy feet till I received permission to go to the war with thee."

"Yagus!" cried Zbyshko, seizing her in his arms.

She embraced his neck, nestling up to him with all her strength, and said, "Only come back to me, my golden, my only one, my dearest of all!"

"But thank God every day that he has given thee such a wife," added Matsko, in a deep voice.

An hour later they lowered the flag from the watchtower in sign that the master was absent.

Zbyshko and Matsko permitted Yagenka with the children to accompany them as far as Sieradz. One hour later all set out with men and a whole train of wagons. The day was clear and still. The forests were in a motionless quiet. The herds on the fields and fallow lands enjoyed the midday rest, chewing their cuds slowly, as if in thought. Because of the dryness of the air there rose in one and another place along the roads rolls of yellow dust, and above those rolls gleamed, as it were, numberless little fires glittering in the sunlight; Zbyshko pointed them out to his wife and children, saying,—

"Do ye know what is glittering there above the dust? Those are spears, lances, and darts. It is clear that the summons has reached every one, and the people are marching against the Germans from all sides."

In fact such was the case. Not far beyond the boundary of Bogdanets they met Yagenka's brother, Yasko, who, as heir of Zgorzelitse, was quite wealthy; he marched with three lancers, and took with him twenty men. Soon after, at a crossroad, rose up toward them from beyond dust-clouds the face of Stan of Rogov, overgrown with hair; he was not, it is true, a friend of the lords of Bogdanets, but this time he called from a distance,—

"Bear down on the dog brothers!" He bowed toward them with good will, and galloped on farther in the grayish dust.

They met also old Vilk of Brozova. His head trembled a little from age, but he too was marching on, to avenge the death of his son, whom the Germans had slain in Silesia. And as they approached Sieradz the clouds of dust on the road were more and more frequent, and when from afar the tower of the city was visible the whole road was swarming with knights and their wagons, with armed townspeople who were all marching to the place of muster. Seeing that numerous, healthy, stalwart people, stubborn in battle and enduring beyond all others in foul weather, in rains, in cold, and every kind of toil, old Matsko was strengthened in spirit.

And such a stream of well-equipped warriors were approaching towns not only in the kingdom, but throughout the whole immense extent of the lands ruled by Yagello and Vitold. From the Carpathians and the Black Sea to the shores of the Baltic peoples were hurrying to restrain the German inundation, and put an end to the quarrel of ages with one giant effort.

1. Seven X.'s—seventy years.