THE OLDEST PERIOD (continued 2)

Ígor leads his soldiers to the Don: the birds in the thicket forbode his misfortune; the wolves bristle up and howl a storm in the mountain clefts; the eagles screech and call the beasts to a feast of bones; the foxes bark for the crimson shields. O Russian land, you are already beyond the mound![41] Night is long and murky; the dawn withholds the light; mist covers the fields; the nightingale’s song is silent; the cawing of the crows is heard. The Russians bar the long fields with their crimson shields, seeking honour for themselves and glory for the Prince.

IV

Early in the morning, on the Friday, they crushed the pagan Pólovts host, and, spreading like arrows over the field, seized fair Pólovts maidens, and with them gold and gold-worked stuffs and costly velvet; with cloaks and coats and Pólovts lace they bridged their way over bogs and muddy places. A red flag, white pennon, red panache, silver cross-beam, for the brave son of Svyatosláv!...[42] Olég’s valiant brood has flown afar and dreams in the field! They thought not to offend the falcon, gerfalcon, nor you, black raven, pagan Pólovts! But Gza ran like a grey wolf, with Konchák[43] in his track, to the great Don.

V

Very early the next morning a bloody dawn announces the day. Black clouds come from the sea and try to veil four suns,[44] while blue lightnings quiver through them. There is to be a mighty thunder, and the rain is to go down in arrows by the great Don! There spears will be broken; there swords will be blunted against Pólovts helmets on the Kayála,[45] by the great Don. O Russian land, you are already beyond the mound!

Behold the winds, Stribóg’s[46] grandchildren, blow arrows from the sea on Ígor’s valiant army. The earth groans, the rivers flow turbid; dust covers the fields; the banners whisper. The Pólovtses come from the Don, and from the sea, and from all sides: the Russian army recedes. The devil’s children fill the field with their cries, but the brave Russians line it with their crimson bucklers.

Grim Aurochs Vsévolod! You stand in the van; you pour arrows on the warriors; you thunder with steel swords against their helmets. Wherever you, Aurochs, lead, gleaming with your golden helmet, there fall the heads of the pagan Pólovtses, their Avar[47] helmets cloven by your tempered swords, Grim Aurochs Vsévolod! What wound does he brook, O brothers, having forgotten his honours and manner of life, and Chernígov town, his paternal golden throne, and the caresses of his sweetheart, Glyeb’s fair daughter,[48] and the habits and customs of his home?

VI

Troyán’s age is past, gone are the years of Yarosláv; past are the expeditions of Olég,[49] the son of Svyatosláv. That Olég had fostered discord with his sword, and had sowed arrows over the land. In Tmútorokan city he stepped into the golden stirrup. Great Yarosláv, that was, heard the tocsin,[50] and Vsévolod’s son Vladímir closed his ears all the days at Chernígov.[51] But Glory brought Borís,[52] the son of Vyachesláv, before the judgment seat and bedded him, brave young prince, on the green feather grass of the steppe, through Olég’s offence....

Then, in the days of Olég Gorislávich,[53] feuds were sown and grew, and Dazhbóg’s[54] grandchildren perished, and the years of men were shortened by the discord of the princes. In those days the warriors rarely walked behind the plough in the Russian land, but the ravens croaked as they divided the dead bodies, and crows chattered, flying to the banquet. Such were the wars and expeditions then, but the like of this war was never known.

VII

From early morning until evening, from evening until daylight fly tempered arrows, thunder the swords against the helmets, resound the steel spears in a strange field, within the country of the Pólovtses. The black earth beneath the hoofs was sown with bones, and watered with blood, and a harvest of sorrow went up in the Russian land.

What noise is that, what din, so early in the morning before dawn? Ígor leads his army; he is sorry for his beloved brother Vsévolod. They fought a day, they fought another[55]; upon the third at noon fell the standards of Ígor. The brothers separated on the bank of the swift Kayála. Here there was not enough of bloody wine; here the brave Russians ended the feast: they gave their host their fill to drink, and themselves fell for the Russian land. The grass withered from sorrow, and the trees in anguish bent down to the earth.[56]

VIII

There befell a hapless hour, O brothers! Already had the wilderness covered Russia’s hosts, when Mischief arose in the hosts of Dazhbóg’s grandchildren: she walked as a maiden in Troyán’s land,[57] splashed her swan pinions in the blue sea,[58] and splashing them in the Don, recalled heavy times.

Through the feuds of the princes ruin came from the pagans, for brother spoke to brother: “This is mine and that is mine also,” and the princes said of trifling matters, “They are important,” and created discord among themselves; and the pagans came from all sides victorious into the Russian land.

Oh, far has the falcon[59] flown, driving the birds by the sea, but Ígor’s brave army will rise no more! Konchák called, and Gza raced over the Russian land, hurling fire from a flaming horn.[60] Russian women wept, saying: “No longer will our thoughts reach our dear ones, nor shall we ever see them with our eyes, nor be adorned with tinkling gold and silver!”

And Kíev groaned under its sorrow, and Chernígov on account of its misfortunes. Sadness spread over the Russian land, and a heavy gloom. The princes fostered discord among themselves, and the pagans victoriously overran the country, receiving tribute, a squirrel[61] from each house.

It is Ígor and Vsévolod, Svyatosláv’s brave sons, who through their discord had wakened dishonour which their father, Svyatosláv[62] of Kíev, the great, the mighty, had put to sleep: he had invaded the Pólovts land and had carried terror to them, with his mighty armies and tempered swords; had levelled their hills and ravines, ruffled their rivers and lakes, dried up their streams and swamps; and, like a whirlwind, had snatched pagan Kobyák[63] away from his mighty, steel-clad Pólovts army by the Ázov Sea, until Kobyák fell in Kíev city, in the council-room of Svyatosláv. Germans, Venetians, Greeks and Moravians sing the glory of Svyatosláv, but blame Prince Ígor who had merged his wealth in the Kayála, the Pólovts river, and had filled it with Russian gold. Here Ígor was unseated from his golden saddle and placed upon the saddle of a slave.

IX

The city walls were silent, and merriment was dead. Svyatosláv saw a troubled dream: “In Kíev on the mount you enveloped me last night,” he said, “in a black shroud on a bed of yew; they poured out to me blue wine mixed with bitterness; from empty quivers they showered large gems upon my lap, and tried to comfort me. Already are there boards without a cross beam in my hall of gold, and all night have the devilish crows been cawing.”[64] ...

The boyárs spoke to the Prince: “Prince, sorrow has enthralled your mind. Two falcons flew from their paternal throne of gold to find the city of Tmútorokan, and anxious to drink from the Don with their helmets. The falcons’ wings have been clipped by the pagan swords, and they have been enmeshed in iron fetters. On the third day it was dark: two suns were dimmed,[65] two red torches went out, and with them two young moons, Olég[66] and Svyatosláv, were shrouded in darkness. On Kayála river darkness veiled the day: the Pólovtses had invaded the Russian land, like a litter of lynxes.... Fair Gothic[67] maidens sing upon the shore of the blue sea, tinkling with the Russian gold: they sing the times of Bus, recall Sharokán’s[68] revenge. But we, your druzhína, are anxious for the feast.”

Then great Svyatosláv uttered golden words, mingled with tears: “Oh, my nephews, Ígor and Vsévolod! Too early did you begin to strike the land of the Pólovtses with your swords, and to seek glory for yourselves. You were vanquished ingloriously, for ingloriously have you spilled the blood of the pagans! Your brave hearts are forged with hard steel and tempered in daring exploits. See what you have done with my silvery hair! I no longer see with me my mighty, warlike brother Izyasláv with his Chernígov druzhína.... They overwhelmed their enemies with dirks, not bearing bucklers, but raising a warcry and resounding the glory of their forefathers. But you spoke: ‘We alone will vanquish! Let us ourselves gain the future glory, and share the glory of our fathers!’ Why should not an old man feel young again? When the falcon is moulting, he drives the birds far away, and allows not his nest to be hurt. But alas, the princes will not aid me! My years have turned to nothing. At Rim[69] they cry under the swords of the Pólovtses, and Vladímir[70] groans under his wounds. Bitterness and sorrow has befallen the son of Glyeb!”

X

Grand Prince Vsévolod![71] Fly from afar not only in thought, but come to protect your paternal throne: for you could dry up the Vólga[72] with your oars, and empty the Don with your helmets. If you were here, a Pólovts slave-girl would be worth a dime, and a man-slave—half a rouble.[73] And you know, together with the brave sons of Glyeb, how to hurl the Greek fire on land.

You, Grim Aurochs Rúrik and David![74] Did not your golden helmets swim in blood? Did not your valiant druzhína bellow like aurochses, when they were wounded by tempered swords in a strange field? Put your feet, O lords, into your golden stirrups to avenge the insult to the Russian land, the wounds of Ígor, the valiant son of Svyatosláv!

Yarosláv Osmomýsl of Gálich![75] You sit high upon your throne wrought of gold, propping with your iron-clad army the Carpathian mountains, barring the king’s path, closing the gates of the Danube, hurling missiles higher than the clouds, sitting in judgment as far as the Danube. Your thunders pass over the land, and you hold the key to the gates of Kíev; sitting on your paternal throne, you slay the sultans in their lands. Slay, O lord, Konchák, the pagan villain, to avenge the Russian land, the wounds of Ígor, the valiant son of Svyatosláv!

And you, valiant Román[76] and Mstisláv! A brave thought carries you into action.[77] You fly high in your onslaught, like a falcon circling in the air, about to swoop down upon the birds. You wear iron hauberks under Latin helmets, and the earth has trembled from you in many a pagan land: the Lithuanians, Yatvyágans, Deremélans and Pólovtses threw down their warclubs and bent their heads under those tempered swords. But now, O Prince, Ígor’s sun is dimmed,—the tree, alas, has shed its leaves. Along the Ros[78] and the Sulá the Pólovtses have sacked the towns, but Ígor’s brave army will rise no more. The Don calls you, O Prince, and the other princes to victory!

Olég’s sons have hastened to the war. Íngvar and Vsévolod,[79] and the three sons of Mstisláv,[80] a mighty winged brood! Not by the lot of war have you acquired power. Of what good are your golden helmets, and Polish warclubs and shields? Bar the enemy’s way with your sharp arrows, to avenge the Russian land, the wounds of Ígor, the valiant son of Svyatosláv!

XI

The Sulá no longer flows with a silvery stream by Pereyáslavl town,[81] and the Dviná flows turbid by mighty Pólotsk, agitated by the pagans. Izyasláv,[82] Vasílko’s son, alone made his sharp swords ring against the Lithuanian helmets, outstripping the glory of his grandfather Vsesláv, but himself was worsted by Lithuanian swords, and fell under crimson shields, upon the bloodstained grass. Lying on his death-bed, he spoke[83]: “O Prince, the birds have covered your druzhína with their wings, and the beasts have lapped their blood.” There was not present the brother Bryachisláv, nor the other, Vsévolod; alone he lost the pearl soul out of his valiant body through the golden necklace. The voices were subdued, merriment died away. The trumpets blare at Goródno.

Yarosláv and all grandchildren of Vsesláv![84] Furl your standards, sheath your blunted swords, for you have leaped away from your grandfather’s glory! You have with your discords invited the pagan hosts against the Russian land, against the life of Vsesláv, for through your strife has come the enslavement by the Pólovts land.

In the seventh age of Troyán,[85] Vsesláv cast his lot for his beloved maiden.[86] He bestrode his horse, and galloped to the city of Kíev, and with the thrust of the spear possessed himself of golden-throned Kíev. He galloped hence as a grim beast to the south of Byélgorod,[87] and disappeared in the blue mist; next morning he clanked with the battering-ram, and opened the gates of Nóvgorod; he shattered the glory of Yarosláv,[88] and raced as a wolf to the Nemíga from Dudútki.[89]

On the Nemíga, ricks are stacked with heads, and they flail with tempered chains; the body is placed on the threshing-floor, and the soul is winnowed from the body. Not with grain were sown the bloody banks of the Nemíga, but with the bones of Russian sons.

Prince Vsesláv sat in judgment over his people, apportioned cities to the princes, but himself raced a wolf[90] in the night, and by cockcrow reached from Kíev to Tmútorokan, and as a wolf crossed the path of great Khors.[91] When they rang the bell in the church of St. Sophia for matins, early in the morning at Pólotsk, he heard the ringing in Kíev. Though his cunning soul could pass into another body, yet he often suffered woe. Thus wise Boyán of old has justly said: “Neither the cunning, nor the agile, nor the swift bird can escape the judgment of the Lord!”

Oh, the Russian land must groan as it recalls the former days and the ancient princes! It was not possible to nail Vladímir to the hills of Kíev[92]: now there are standards of Rúrik, and others of David....[93]

XII

Yaroslávna’s[94] voice is heard; like a cuckoo in a lonely spot she calls plaintively in the morning: “I will fly,” she says, “like a cuckoo along the Danube,[95] will wet my beaver sleeve in the river Kayála, will wipe off the Prince’s bloody wounds on his manly body!”

Yaroslávna weeps in the morning at Putívl town on the wall, saying: “O wind, mighty wind! Why, master, do you blow so strong? Why do you on your light wings carry the Khan’s arrows against the warriors of my beloved one? Is it not enough for you to blow on high below the clouds, rocking the ships on the blue sea? Why, master, have you dispersed my happiness over the grass of the steppe?”

Yaroslávna weeps in the morning at Putívl town on the wall, saying: “O famous Dnieper, you have pierced the rocky mountains across the country of the Pólovtses! You have rocked on your waves the boats of Svyatosláv as far as the army of Kobák.[96] Fondly bring to me, master, my sweetheart, that I may not in the morning send tears after him out to sea.”

Yaroslávna weeps in the morning at Putívl town on the wall, saying: “Bright, three times bright sun, you give warmth and joy to all! Why, master, have you thrust your burning beams on the warriors of my beloved one? Why have you in the waterless plain dried up their bows, and sealed their quivers in sorrow?”

XIII

The sea is agitated at midnight: mists are borne in the darkness. God shows to Ígor a way out of the land of the Pólovtses into the country of Russia to his father’s golden throne. The evening twilight has gone out. Ígor sleeps; Ígor is awake: Ígor in his thought measures the plains from the great Don to the small Donéts. His steed is ready at midnight. Ovlúr whistles beyond the river, gives a sign to the Prince,—Prince Ígor will be no more!

The earth resounded, the grass rustled, the Pólovts’ tents trembled. But Ígor raced like an ermine in the reeds, like a white duck over the water; he jumped on a swift steed, dismounted as a light-footed wolf, and hastened to the plain of the Donéts; and as a falcon flew through the mist, killing geese and swans for his breakfast and dinner and supper. When Ígor flew as a falcon, Ovlúr raced as a wolf, shaking off the cold dew, for they had worn out their swift steeds.

The Donéts spoke: “Prince Ígor, great is your honour, and the grief to Konchák, and joy to the Russian land!”

Ígor spoke: “O Donéts, great is your honour, having rocked the Prince on your wave, having spread out for him the green grass on your silver banks, having cloaked him with warm mists under green trees. You have guarded him as a duck on the water, as a gull on the waves, as a mallard in the air. Not thus the river Stúgna[97]: though having a scanty stream, it has swallowed other brooks, and has spread the floods over the bushes. To the young Prince Rostisláv the Dnieper has closed its dark banks. Rostisláv’s mother weeps for the young Prince. The flowers faded in their sorrow, and the trees bent in anguish to the ground.”

It is not magpies that are in a flutter: Gza and Konchák ride in Ígor’s track. Then the raven did not croak, the jackdaws were silent, the magpies did not chatter, only leaped from branch to branch. The woodpeckers indicated the road to the river by their pecking; the nightingales announced the day by their merry song.

Said Gza to Konchák: “Since the falcon is flying to his nest, let us shoot the fledgling[98] with our golden darts.”

Said Konchák to Gza: “Since the falcon is flying to his nest, let us enmesh the fledgling with a fair maiden!”

And Gza spoke to Konchák: “If we enmesh him with a fair maiden, we shall have neither the young falcon, nor the fair maiden, and the birds will attack us in the Pólovts plain.”

XIV

Boyán has said: “Hard it is for you, O head, to be without your shoulders; ill it is for you, O body, to be without a head.” Even so is the Russian land without Ígor.

The sun shines in the heaven,—Prince Ígor in the land of Russia! Maidens sing at the Danube: their voices are carried over the sea to Kíev. Ígor rides over the Boríchev,[99] to the church of the Holy Virgin of Pirogóshch. The country is happy, the towns rejoice; they sing songs to the elder princes, and then to the younger. Let us sing the glory of Ígor Svyatoslávich, of Grim Aurochs Vsévolod, Vladímir Ígorevich! Hail, princes and druzhína, who battle for the Christians against the pagan host! Glory to the princes and the druzhína! Amen!

FOOTNOTES:

The Holy Virgin’s Descent into Hell. (XII. century.)

In spite of the prohibition of the Church, apocryphal literature reached Russia from Byzantium by way of Bulgaria, and not only spread all over Russia as a possession of the people, but even crept into ecclesiastical literature, serving frequently the same purpose as the writings of the Church Fathers. These apocryphal productions, of which there is a very large number, held sway over the people from the twelfth to the seventeenth century, and even now form the background of many popular tales and songs, especially of those of the “wandering people” and beggars. One of the most beautiful stories of this kind is The Holy Virgin’s Descent into Hell, the Russian manuscript of which goes back to the twelfth century. Similar stories were also current in Italy, where there were colonies of Bulgarian Manicheans, who were most active in disseminating them. Dante was, no doubt, acquainted with them when he wrote his Divine Comedy.

The Holy Virgin wished to see the torments of the souls, and She spoke to Michael, the archistrategos: “Tell me all things that are upon earth!” And Michael said to Her: “As you say, Blessed One: I shall tell you all things.” And the Holy Virgin said to him: “How many torments are there, that the Christian race is suffering?” And the archistrategos said to Her: “Uncountable are the torments!” And the Blessed One spoke to him: “Show me, in heaven and upon earth!”

Then the archistrategos ordered the angels to come from the south, and Hell was opened. And She saw those that were suffering in Hell, and there was a great number of men and women, and there was much weeping. And the Blessed One asked the archistrategos: “Who are these?” And the archistrategos said: “These are they who did not believe in the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost, but forgot God and believed in things which God has created for our sakes; they called everything God: the sun and the moon, the earth and water, beasts and reptiles. They changed Troyán, Khors, Velés, Perún[100] to gods, and believed in evil spirits. They are even now held in evil darkness, therefore they suffer such torments.”

And She saw in another place a great darkness. Said the Holy Lady: “What is this darkness, and who are those who dwell therein?” Spoke the archistrategos: “Many souls dwell in this place.” Spoke the Holy Virgin: “Let the darkness be dispersed that I may see the torment.” And the angels who watched over the torment answered: “We have been enjoined not to let them see light until the coming of your blessed Son who is brighter than seven suns.” And the Holy Virgin was saddened, and She raised Her eyes to the angels and looked at the invisible throne of Her Father and spoke: “In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost! Let the darkness be taken off that I may see this torment.”

And the darkness was lifted, and seven heavens were seen, and there dwelt there a great multitude of men and women, and there was loud weeping and a mighty noise. When the Holy Virgin saw them, She spoke to them, weeping tears: “What have you done, wretched and unworthy people, and what has brought you here?” There was no voice, nor an answer from them. And the watching angels spoke: “Wherefore do you not speak?” And the tormented said: “Blessed One! We have not seen light for a long time, and we cannot look up.” The Holy Virgin looking at them wept bitterly. And the tormented, seeing Her, said: “How is it, Holy Virgin, you have visited us? Your blessed Son came upon earth and did not ask for us, nor Abraham the patriarch, nor Moses the prophet, nor John the Baptist, nor Paul the apostle, the Lord’s favourite. But you, Holy Virgin and intercessor, you are a protection for the Christian people.”... Then spoke the Holy Virgin to Michael the archistrategos: “What is their sin?” And Michael said: “These are they who did not believe in the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost, nor in you, Holy Virgin! They did not want to proclaim your name, nor that from you was born our Lord Jesus Christ who, having come in the flesh, has sanctified the earth through baptism: it is for this that they are tormented here.” Weeping again, the Holy Virgin spoke to them: “Wherefore do you live in error? Do you not know that all creation honours my name?” When the Holy Virgin said this, darkness fell again upon them.

The archistrategos spoke to Her: “Whither, Blessed One, do you want to go now? To the south, or to the north?” The Blessed One spoke: “Let us go out to the south!” And there came the cherubim and the seraphim and four hundred angels, and took the Holy Virgin to the south where there was a river of fire. There was a multitude of men and women there, and they stood in the river, some to their waists, some to their shoulders, some to their necks and some above their heads. Seeing this, the Holy Virgin wept aloud and asked the archistrategos: “Who are they that are immerged up to their waists in the fire?” And the archistrategos said to Her: “They are those who have been cursed by their fathers and mothers,—for this the cursed ones suffer torment here.” And the Holy Virgin said: “And those who are in the fiery flame up to their necks, who are they?” The angel said to Her: “They are those who have eaten human flesh,—for this they are tormented here.” And the Holy One said: “Those who are immerged in the fiery flame above their heads, who are they?” And the archistrategos spoke: “Those are they, Lady, who holding the cross have sworn falsely.”... The Holy One spoke to the archistrategos: “I beg you this one thing, let me also enter, that I may suffer together with the Christians, for they have called themselves the children of my Son.” And the archistrategos said: “Rest yourself in paradise!” And the Holy One said: “I beg you, move the hosts of the seven heavens and all the host of the angels that we may pray for the sinners, and God may accept our prayer and have mercy upon them. I beg you, order the angelic host to carry me to the heavenly height and to take me before the invisible Father!”

The archistrategos so ordered, and there appeared the cherubim and seraphim and carried the Blessed One to the heavenly height, and put Her down at the throne of the invisible Father. She raised Her hands to Her blessed Son and said: “Have mercy, O Master, upon the sinners, for I have seen them, and I could not endure: let me be tormented together with the Christians!” And there came a voice to Her and said: “How can I have mercy upon them? I see the nails in my Son’s hands.” And She said: “Master! I do not pray for the infidel Jews, but for the Christians I ask Thy forgiveness!” And a voice came to Her: “I see how they have had no mercy upon my children, so I can have no mercy upon them.”

Spoke again the Holy One: “Have mercy, O Master, upon the sinners,—the creation of Thine own hands, who proclaim Thy name over the whole earth and even in their torments, and who in all places say: “Most Holy Lady, Mother of God, aid us!” Then the Lord spoke to Her: “Hear, Holy Mother of God! There is not a man who does not praise Thy name. I will not abandon them, neither in heaven, nor upon earth.” And the Holy Virgin said: “Where is Moses, the prophet? Where are all the prophets? And you, fathers, who have never committed a sin? Where is Paul, God’s favourite? Where is the Sunday, the pride of the Christian? And where is the power of the worshipful cross through which Adam and Eve were delivered from their curse?” Then Michael the archistrategos and all the angels spoke: “Have mercy, O Master, upon the sinners!” And Moses wept loud and said: “Have mercy upon them, O Lord! For I have given them Thy Law!” And John wept and said: “Have mercy, O Master! I preached Thy gospel to them.” And Paul wept and said: “Have mercy, O Master! For I carried Thine epistles to the churches.”

And those that were in the darkness heard of this, and they all wept with one voice and said: “Have mercy upon us, Son of God! Have mercy upon us, King of all eternity!” And the Master said: “Hear all! I have planted paradise, and created man according to my image, and made him lord over paradise, and gave him eternal life. But they have disobeyed me and sinned in their selfishness and delivered themselves to death.... You became Christians only in words, and did not keep my commands; for this you find yourselves now in the fire everlasting, and I ought not to have mercy upon you! But to-day, through the goodness of my Father who sent me to you, and through the intercession of my Mother who wept much for you, and through Michael, the archistrategos of the gospel, and through the multitude of my martyrs who have laboured much in your behalf, I give you from Good Thursday to the holy Pentecost, day and night, for a rest, and you praise the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost!” And they all answered: “Glory be to Thy goodness! Glory to the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost, now and for ever!”

FOOTNOTES:

Daniel the Prisoner. (XIII. century.)

For some unknown reason Daniel had been imprisoned in an island in the Lake of Lach, in the Government of Olónetsk. He seems to have belonged to the druzhína of Yarosláv Vsévolodovich of Pereyáslavl, who died in 1247 as Grand Prince of Vladímir. That is all that is known about the life of this layman, one of the few in the old period whose writing has come down to our times. The begging letter which he addressed to the Prince is composed of incorrectly quoted biblical passages and popular saws and proverbs; many of these he drew from an ancient collection, The Bee, in which moral subjects are arranged in chapters. In their turn, Daniel’s saws have largely entered into the composition of a very popular collection of the same kind, The Emerald.

LETTER TO PRINCE YAROSLÁV VSÉVOLODOVICH

We will blare forth, O brothers, on the reasoning of our mind, as on a trumpet forged of gold. We will strike the silver organs, and will proclaim our wisdom, and will strike the thoughts of our mind, playing on the God-inspired reeds, that our soul-saving thoughts might weep loud. Arise, my glory! Arise, psalter and cymbals, that I may unfold my meaning in proverbs, and that I may announce my glory in words.... Knowing, O lord, your good disposition, I take refuge in your customary kindness, for the Holy Writ says: Ask and you shall receive. David has said: There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard. Neither will we be silent, but will speak out to our master, the most gracious Yarosláv Vsévolodovich.

Prince my lord! Remember me in your reign, for I, your slave, and son of your slave, see all men warmed by your mercy as by the sun; only I alone walk in darkness, deprived of the light from your eyes, like the grass growing behind a wall, upon which neither the sun shineth nor the rain falleth. So, my lord, incline your ears to the words of my lips, and deliver me from all my sorrow.

Prince my lord! All get their fill from the abundance of your house; but I alone thirst for your mercy, like a stag for a spring of water. I was like a tree that stands in the road and that all passers-by strike;—even thus I am insulted by all, for I am not protected by the terror of your wrath, as by a firm palisade.

Prince my lord! The rich man is known everywhere, even in a strange city, while the poor man walketh unseen in his own. The rich man speaketh and all are silent, and his words are elated to the clouds; but let the poor man speak out, and all will call out to him, for the discourse of those is honoured whose garments are bright. But you, my lord, look not at my outer garb, but consider my inner thoughts, for my apparel is scanty, and I am young in years, but old in mind, and I have soared in thought like an eagle in the air.

Prince my lord! Let me behold your fair face and form. Your lips drop honey; your utterances are like paradise with its fruit; your hands are filled with gold of Tharsos; your cheeks are a vessel of spices; your throat is like a lily dropping myrrh—your mercy; your look is as the choice Lebanon; your eyes are like a well of living water; your belly is like an heap of wheat, feeding many; your head riseth above my head....

Prince my lord! Look not at me as a wolf at a lamb; but look at me as a mother at her babe. Look, O lord, at the birds of the air, that neither plough, nor sow, nor gather into granaries, but rely upon God’s kindness. Let not your hand be closed against giving alms to the needy. For it is written: Give to him who asketh of you, open to him who knocketh, that you may not forfeit the kingdom of heaven. For it is also written: Confide your sorrow to the Lord, and He will nurture you until eternity. Deprive not the needy wise man of his bread, but extol him to the clouds, like pure gold in a dirty vessel; but the silly rich man is like a silken pillow-case stuffed full of straw.

Prince my lord! Though I am not a valiant man in war, yet am I strong in words, and I cull the sweetness of words, mixing them, as sea-water in a leather bottle, and wind them and adorn them with cunning parables, and I am glib of speech and ... my lips are pleasing, like a stream of the river rapids.

Prince my lord! As an oak is strong by the multitude of its roots, thus is our city under your domination. The helmsman is the head of the vessel, and you, Prince, are the head of your people. I have seen an army without a prince;—you might say: a big beast without its head. Men are the heads of women, and princes—of men, and God—of the prince. As the pillow-case that is adorned with silk makes a pleasant appearance, even thus you, our Prince, are glorified and honoured in many lands through the multitude of your men. As the net does not hold the water, but keeps a multitude of fish, even thus you, our Prince, keep not the wealth, but distribute it among the strong, making them brave, for you will gain gold and cities through them. Hezekiah, the King of the Jews, boasted before the messengers of the King of Babylon, when he showed them the treasure of his gold. But they answered: “Our kings are richer than you, not with the treasure of gold, but with a multitude of brave and wise men.” (For men will gain gold, but gold will not gain men.) Water is the mother of the fish, and you are Prince of your people. Spring adorns the earth with flowers, and you, Prince, adorn us with your mercy. The sun alone warms with its rays, and you, Prince, adorn and revive with your mercy.

Prince my lord! I have been in great distress, and have suffered under the yoke of work: I have experienced all that is evil. Rather would I see my foot in bast shoes in your house than in crimson boots in the court of a boyár. Rather would I serve you in homespun than in purple in the court of a boyár. Improper is a golden ring in the nose of a swine, and a good garment upon a peasant. Even if a kettle were to have golden rings in its handles, its bottom would not escape blackness and burning. Even thus a peasant: let him be ever so haughty and insolent, he will not escape his blemish, the name of a peasant. Rather would I drink water in your house, than mead in the court of a boyár; rather would I receive a roasted sparrow from your hand than a shoulder of mutton from the hand of a bad master.

Often has my bread, earned by work, tasted as wormwood in my mouth, and my drink I have mingled with tears. Serving a good master, you gain your liberty in the end, but serving a bad master, you only gain an increase of your labour. Solomon has said: Better is one wise man than ten brave men without understanding; better is one clever man than ten rulers of cities. Daniel has said: A brave man, O Prince, you will easily acquire, but a wise man is dear; for the counsel of the wise is good, and their armies are strong, and their cities safe. The armies of others are strong, but without understanding, and they suffer defeat. Many, arming themselves against large cities, start out from smaller towns; as Svyatosláv, the son of Ólga, said on his way to Constantinople to his small druzhína: “We do not know, O brothers, whether the city is to be taken by us, or whether we are to perish from the city: for if God is with us, who is against us?”...

Not the sea draweth the ships, but the winds; even thus you, O Prince, fall not yourself into grieving, but counsellors lead you into it. Not the fire causeth the iron to be heated, but the blowing of the bellows. A wise man is not generally valiant in war, but strong in counsel; so it is good to gather wise men around you. It is good to pasture horses in a fertile field (and to fight for a good prince). Often armies perish through lack of order. If the armies are strongly placed, they will, though they be defeated, make a good running fight; thus Svyatopólk, who was guilty of killing his brothers, was so fortified, that Yarosláv barely overcame him at night. Similarly Bonyák the Scurfy through cunning routed the Hungarians at Gálich: when the latter fortified themselves behind ramparts, the first scattered like hunting men over the land; thus they routed the Hungarians, and badly defeated them.

Prince my lord! I have not been brought up in Athens, nor have I studied with the philosophers, but I have pored over books, like a bee over all kinds of flowers: from them have I gathered sweetness of speech, mingling wisdom with it, as sea-water in a leather bottle....

Serapión, Bishop of Vladímir. (XIII. century.)

Serapión had been abbot of the monastery of the Grottoes in Kíev, and in 1274 he was made bishop of Vladímir and Súzdal. He died in 1275. We have five of his sermons, which are distinguished for a certain simple, stern eloquence. The thirteenth century produced very few writers, and Serapión’s sermons have an additional interest because they contain references to the Tartar invasion.

A SERMON ON OMENS

The Lord’s blessing be with you!

You have heard, brothers, what the Lord Himself has said in the gospel: in the last years there will be signs in the sun, in the moon, and in the stars, and earthquakes in many places, and famine. What had been foretold by the Lord then, is now fulfilled in our days.[101] We have seen many times the sun perished, the moon darkened, and the stars disturbed, and lately we have seen with our own eyes the quaking of the earth. The earth, firm and immovable from the beginning by the order of God, is in motion to-day, trembling on account of our sins, being unable to bear our lawlessness. We did not obey the gospel, did not obey the apostles, nor the prophets, nor the great luminaries, I mean Basil and Gregory the theologues, John Chrysostom, and the other holy fathers, by whom the faith was confirmed, the heretics repelled, and God made known to all the nations. They have taught us without interruption, but we are living in lawlessness.

It is for this that God is punishing us with signs and earthquakes. He does not speak with His lips, but chastises with deeds. God has punished us with everything, but has not dispelled our evil habits: now He shakes the earth and makes it tremble: He wants to shake off our lawlessness and sins from the earth like leaves from a tree. If any should say that there have been earthquakes before, I shall not deny it. But what happened to us afterwards? Did we not have famine, and plague, and many wars? But we did not repent, until finally there came upon us a ruthless nation, at the instigation of God, and laid waste our land, and took into captivity whole cities, destroyed our holy churches, slew our fathers and brothers, violated our mothers and sisters. Now, my brothers, having experienced that, let us pray to our Lord, and make confession, lest we incur a greater wrath of the Lord, and bring down upon us a greater punishment than the first.

Much is still waiting for our repentance and for our conversion. If we turn away from corrupt and ruthless judgments, if we do away with bloody usury and all rapacity, thefts, robbery, blasphemy, lies, calumny, oaths, and denunciations, and other satanic deeds,—if we do away with all that, I know well that good things will come to us in this life and in the future life. For He Himself hath said: Turn to me, and I will turn to you. Keep away from everything, and I will withhold your punishment. When will we, at last, turn away from our sins? Let us spare ourselves and our children! At what time have we seen so many sudden deaths? Many were taken away before they could care for their houses; many lay down well in the evening and never arose again. Have fear, I pray you, of this sudden parting! If we wander in the will of the Lord, God will comfort us with many a comfort, will cherish us as His sons, will take away from us earthly sorrow, will give us a peaceful exit into the future life, where we shall enjoy gladness, and endless happiness with those who do the will of the Lord.

I have told you much, my brothers and children, but I see our punishments will not be diminished, nor changed. Many take no heed, as if they weened themselves to be immortal. I am afraid that the word of God will come to pass with them: If I had not spoken to them, they would not have sinned; but now they have no excuse for their sin. And I repeat to you, if we do not change, we shall have no excuse before the Lord. I, your sinful pastor, have done the command of God in transmitting His word to you.

FOOTNOTES:

The Zadónshchina. (XIV. century.)

The Zadónshchina, i. e., The Exploits beyond the Don, has come down in two versions, and is an interesting poetical account of the battle at Kulikóvo (1380). The Word of Ígor’s Armament had taken a strong hold on the author, who seems to have been a certain Sofóniya of Ryazán. Not only are there many parallels in the two poems, but whole passages are bodily taken from the older text, with corruption of some phrases, the meaning of which was not clear to the author of the Zadónshchina.

THE ZADÓNSHCHINA

Let us go, O brothers, into the midnight country, the lot of Japheth,[102] the son of Noah, from whom has risen the most glorious Russia; let us there ascend the Kíev mountains, and look by the smooth Dnieper over the whole Russian land, and hence to the Eastern land, the lot of Shem, the son of Noah, from whom were born the Chinese,[103] the pagan Tartars, the Mussulmans. They had defeated the race of Japheth on the river Kayála.[104] And ever since, the Russian land has been unhappy, and from the battle of the Kálka[105] up to Mamáy’s defeat it has been covered with grief and sorrow, weeping and lamenting its children. The Prince and the boyárs, and all the brave men who had left all their homes, and wealth, and wives, children, and cattle, having received honour and glory of this world, have laid down their heads for the Russian land and the Christian faith.

Let us come together, brothers and friends, sons of Russia! Let us join word to word! Let us make the Russian land merry, and cast sorrow on the eastern regions that are to the lot of Shem! Let us sing about the victory over the heathen Mamáy, and an eulogy to the Grand Prince Dmítri Ivánovich and his brother,[106] Prince Vladímir Andréevich!... We shall sing as things have happened, and will not race in thought, but will mention the times of the first years; we will praise the wise Boyán,[107] the famous musician in Kíev town. That wise Boyán put his golden fingers on the living strings, sang the glory of the Russian princes, to the first Prince Rúrik, Ígor Rúrikovich and Svyatosláv, Yaropólk, Vladímir Svyatoslávich, Yarosláv Vladímirovich, praising them with songs and melodious musical words.—But I shall mention Sofóniya of Ryazán, and shall praise in songs and musical words the Prince Dmítri Ivánovich and his brother, Prince Vladímir Andréevich, for their bravery and zeal was for the Russian land and the Christian faith. For this, Grand Prince Dmítri Ivánovich and his brother, Prince Vladímir Andréevich, sharpened their hearts in bravery, arose in their strength, and remembered their ancestor, Prince Vladímir of Kíev, the tsar of Russia.

O lark, joy of beautiful days! Fly to the blue clouds, look towards the strong city of Moscow, sing the glory of Grand Prince Dmítri Andréevich! They have risen like falcons from the Russian land against the fields of the Pólovtses. The horses neigh at the Moskvá; the drums are beaten at the Kolómna; the trumpets blare at Serpukhóv; the glory resounds over the whole Russian land. Wonderfully the standards stand at the great Don; the embroidered flags flutter in the wind; the gilded coats of mail glisten. The bells are tolled in the vyéche[108] of Nóvgorod the Great. The men of Nóvgorod stand in front of St. Sophia, and speak as follows: “We shall not get in time to the aid of Grand Prince Dmítri Ivánovich.” Then they flew together like eagles from the whole midnight country. They were not eagles that flew together, but posádniks[109] that went out with 7000 men from Nóvgorod the Great to Grand Prince Dmítri Ivánovich and to his brother Vladímir Andréevich.

All the Russian princes came to the aid of Grand Prince Dmítri Ivánovich, and they spoke as follows: “Lord Grand Prince! Already do the pagan Tartars encroach upon our fields, and take away our patrimony. They stand between the Don and Dnieper, on the river Mechá.[110] But we, lord, will go beyond the swift river Don, will gain glory in all the lands, will be an object of conversation for the old men, and a memory for the young.”

Thus spoke Grand Prince Dmítri Ivánovich to his brothers, the Russian princes: “My dear brothers, Russian princes! We are of the same descent, from Grand Prince Iván Danílovich.[111] So far we brothers have not been insulted either by falcon, or vulture, or white gerfalcon, or this dog, pagan Mamáy.”

Nightingale! If you could only sing the glory of these two brothers, Ólgerd’s sons,[112] Andréy of Pólotsk and Dmítri of Bryansk, for they were born in Lithuania on a shield of the vanguard, swaddled under trumpets, raised under helmets, fed at the point of the spear, and given drink with the sharp sword. Spoke Andréy to his brother Dmítri: “We are two brothers, sons of Ólgerd, grandchildren of Gedemín, great-grandchildren of Skoldimér. Let us mount our swift steeds, let us drink, O brother, with our helmets the water from the swift Don, let us try our tempered swords.”

And Dmítri spoke to him: “Brother Andréy! We will not spare our lives for the Russian land and Christian faith, and to avenge the insult to Grand Prince Dmítri Ivánovich. Already, O brother, there is a din and thunder in the famous city of Moscow. But, brother, it is not a din or thunder: it is the noise made by the mighty army of Grand Prince Dmítri Ivánovich and his brother Prince Vladímir Andréevich; the brave fellows thunder with their gilded helmets and crimson shields. Saddle, brother Andréy, your good swift steeds, for mine are ready, having been saddled before. We will ride out, brother, into the clear field, and will review our armies, as many brave men of Lithuania as there are with us, but there are with us of the brave men of Lithuania seven thousand mailed soldiers.”

Already there have arisen strong winds from the sea; they have wafted a great cloud to the mouth of the Dnieper, against the Russian land; bloody clouds have issued from it, and blue lightnings flash through them. There will be a mighty din and thunder between the Don and the Dnieper, and bodies of men will fall on the field of Kulikóvo, and blood will flow on the river Nepryádva, for the carts have already creaked between the Don and Dnieper, and the pagan Tartars march against the Russian land. Grey wolves howl: they wish at the river Mechá to invade the Russian land. Those are not grey wolves: the infidel Tartars have come; they wish to cross the country in war, and to conquer the Russian land. The geese have cackled and the swans have flapped their wings,—pagan Mamáy has come against the Russian land and has brought his generals....

What is that din and thunder so early before daybreak? Prince Vladímir Andréevich has reviewed his army and is leading it to the great Don. And he says to his brother, Grand Prince Dmítri Ivánovich: “Slacken not, brother, against the pagan Tartars, for the infidels are already in the Russian land, and are taking away our patrimony!”...

The falcons and gerfalcons have swiftly flown across the Don, and have swooped down on the many flocks of swans: the Russian princes have attacked the Tartar might, and they strike with their steel lances against the Tartar armour; the tempered swords thunder against the Tartar helmets on the field of Kulikóvo, on the river Nepryádva. Black is the earth under the hoofs, but they had sowed the field with Tartar bones, and the earth was watered with their blood, and mighty armies passed by and trampled down hills and fields, and the rivers, springs and lakes were turbid. They uttered mighty cries in the Russian land ... and they vanquished the Tartar horde on the field of Kulikóvo, on the river Nepryádva.

On that field mighty clouds encountered, and in them lightnings frequently flashed, and terrible thunders clapped: it is the Russian brave warriors who were engaging the pagan Tartars for the great insult, and their mighty gilded armour glistened, and the Russian princes thundered with their tempered swords against the Tartar helmets....

At that time neither soldiers nor shepherds called in the field near the Don, in the land of Ryazán, but only ravens croaked for the sake of the bodies of the dead, so that it was a terror and a pity to hear: for the grass was watered with blood, and the trees were bent to the ground with sorrow, and the birds sang pitiful songs. All princesses and wives of the boyárs and generals wept for the slain. Fedósya, the wife of Mikúla Vasílevich,[113] and Mary, the wife of Dmítri, wept early in the morning at Moscow, standing on the city wall, and spoke as follows: “Don, Don, you are a swift river, and have cut through stone walls, and flow through the land of the Pólovtses! Bring back my beloved one to me!”...

All over the Russian land there spread joy and merriment: the Russian glory was borne through the land, but shame and destruction came on the pagan Tartars, evil Mussulmans.... The Grand Prince by his own bravery and with his druzhína vanquished pagan Mamáy for the sake of the Russian land and the Christian faith. The pagans deposited their own arms under the Russian swords, and the trumpets were not sounded, their voices were silent. Mamáy galloped away from his druzhína, howled like a grey wolf, and ran away to the city of Khafest....[114]

FOOTNOTES:

Afanási Nikítin. (XV. century.)

Nikítin set out about 1468 for India, whence he returned in 1474. He wrote out an account of his many adventures, which is interesting for its sober though rather one-sided narration. It stands alone in the old Russian literature as the writing of a layman bent on a commercial enterprise. His Travel to India has been translated by Count Wielhorsky for the Hakluyt Society.

TRAVEL TO INDIA

I, poor sinner, brought a stallion to the land of India; with God’s help I reached Junir all well, but it cost me a hundred roubles.

The winter began from Trinity day, and we wintered at Junir and lived there two months; but day and night for four months there is but rain and dirt. At this time of the year the people till the ground, sow wheat, tuturegan (?), peas, and all sorts of vegetables. Wine is kept in large skins (?) of Indian goats....

Horses are fed on peas; also on kichiris, boiled with sugar and oil; early in the morning they get shishenivo. Horses are not born in that country, but oxen and buffaloes; and these are used for riding, conveying goods, and every other purpose.

Junir stands on a stony island; no human hand built it—God made the town. A narrow road, which it takes a day to ascend, admitting of only one man at a time, leads up a hill to it.

In the winter, the people put on the fata, and wear it around the waist, on the shoulders, and on their head; but the princes and nobles put trowsers on, a shirt and a caftan, wearing a fata on the shoulders, another as a belt round the waist, and a third round their head.

O God, true God, merciful God, gracious God!

At Junir the Khan took away my horse, and having heard that I was no Mahommedan, but a Russian, he said: “I will give thee the horse and a thousand pieces of gold, if thou wilt embrace our faith, the Mahommedan faith; and if thou wilt not embrace our Mahommedan faith, I shall keep the horse and take a thousand pieces of gold upon thy head.” He gave me four days to consider, and all this occurred during the fast of the Assumption of our Lady, on the eve of our Saviour’s day (18th of August).

And the Lord took pity upon me because of His holy festival, and did not withdraw His mercy from me, His simple servant, and allowed me not to perish at Junir among the infidels. On the eve of our Saviour’s day there came a man from Khorassan, Khozaiocha Mahmet, and I implored him to pity me. He repaired to the Khan into the town, and praying him delivered me from being converted, and took from him my horse. Such was the Lord’s wonderful mercy on the Saviour’s day.

Now, Christian brethren of Russia, whoever of you wishes to go to the Indian country may leave his faith in Russia, confess Mahomet, and then proceed to the land of Hindostan. Those Mussulman dogs have lied to me, saying I should find plenty of our goods; but there is nothing for our country. All goods for the land of Mussulmans, as pepper and colours, and these are cheap.

The rulers and the nobles in the land of India are all Khorassanians. The Hindoos walk all on foot and walk fast. They are all naked and bare-footed, and carry a shield in one hand and a sword in the other. Some of the servants are armed with straight bows and arrows.

Elephants are greatly used in battle. The men on foot are sent first, the Khorassanians being mounted in full armour, man as well as horse. Large scythes are attached to the trunks and tusks of the elephants, and the animals are clad in ornamental plates of steel. They carry a citadel, and in the citadel twelve men in armour with guns and arrows.

There is a place Shikhbaludin Peratyr, a bazaar Aladinand, and a fair once a year, where people from all parts of India assemble and trade for ten days. As many as 20,000 horses are brought there for sale from Beder, which is 20 kors distant, and besides every description of goods; and that fair is the best throughout the land of Hindostan. Everything is sold or bought in memory of Shikhbaludin, whose fête falls on the Russian festival of the Protection of the Holy Virgin (1st October).

In that Aland (Aladinand?) there is a bird, gukuk, that flies at night and cries gukuk, and any roof it lights upon, there the man will die; and whoever attempts to kill it will see fire flashing from its beak. Wild cats rove at night and catch fowls; they live in the hills and among stones. As to monkeys, they live in the woods and have their monkey knyaz, who is attended by a host of armed followers. When any of them is caught they complain to their knyaz, and an army is sent after the missing; and when they come to a town they pull down the houses and beat the people; and their armies, it is said, are many. They speak their own tongues and bring forth a great many children; and when a child is unlike its father or its mother, it is thrown out on the highroad. Thus they are often caught by the Hindoos, who teach them every sort of handicraft, or sell them at night, that they might not find their way home, or teach them dancing.—From India in the Fifteenth Century, in the Hakluyt Society Publications, London, 1857.

FOOTNOTES:

Apocryphal Legends about King Solomon. (XV. century.)

Among the many apocryphal stories of the Old Testament that were current in Russia the largest number centre about King Solomon. They are mostly derived from Byzantine sources which, in their turn, are often based on Jewish apocryphal accounts; thus the Story of Kitovrás (evidently transformed from Centaurus) is also given in the Talmud. Kitovrás is mentioned in Russian literature in the fourteenth century, but the following passage is from a manuscript of the fifteenth.

THE STORY OF KITOVRÁS

Then came Solomon’s turn to learn about Kitovrás. He found out that his habitation was in a distant wilderness. Solomon, in his wisdom, prepared a steel rope and a steel hoop, and on this he wrote an incantation in the name of God. And he sent his best boyár with his men, and ordered them to take with them wine and mead, and the fleece of sheep. And they came to the appointed place, and behold, there were three wells, but he was not there. By the instruction of Solomon, they emptied the three wells, and closed the springs with the fleeces of the sheep, and filled two of the wells with wine, and the third one with mead, but they themselves hid themselves nearby, for they knew that he would come to the wells to drink water. And he came, for he was very thirsty, and he lay down to drink, but seeing the wine, he said: “Nobody becomes wise from drinking wine.” But as he was very thirsty, he said again: “You are the wine that gladdens the hearts of men,” and he emptied all three wells, and lay himself down to sleep. The wine heated him up, and he fell into a deep sleep. Then the boyár approached him, put the hoop upon his neck, and tied the steel rope to him. When Kitovrás awoke, he wanted to tear himself loose. But Solomon’s boyár said to him: “The name of the Lord is upon you with a prohibition”; and he, seeing the name of the Lord upon him, went meekly along.

His habit was not to go by the crooked road, but by the straight road; and when he arrived in Jerusalem, they levelled the road for him, and palaces were destroyed, for he would not go by the crooked road. They came to the house of a widow. She wept loud, and she begged Kitovrás with the following words: “I am a poor widow.” He turned around the corner, without leaving the street, and he broke a rib, and said: “A gentle word breaks bones, but a harsh word rouses anger.” As he was led through the market-place, he heard a man say: “Is there not a shoe that will wear seven years?” and Kitovrás laughed out loud. And he saw another man who was telling fortunes, and he laughed; and he saw a wedding ceremony, and he wept....

Solomon asked Kitovrás: “Wherefore did you laugh at the man that asked for a shoe that would last seven years?” And Kitovrás answered: “As I looked at him, I saw that he would not live seven days.” And Solomon said: “Wherefore did you laugh at the fortune-teller?” And Kitovrás said: “He was telling people hidden things, and he did not himself know that a gold treasure was right under him.” And the King said: “Go and find out!” They went, and they found that it was so. And the King said: “Wherefore did you weep when you saw the wedding?” And he said: “I felt sorry for the groom, for I knew he would not live another thirty days.” And the King had the matter investigated, and he found that it was so.

Andréy Mikháylovich Kúrbski. (1528-1583.)

Kúrbski was a descendant of the Yarosláv princes who, as he was proud of mentioning, derived their origin from the great Vladímir. At twenty years of age he took part in an expedition against Kazán, and a few years later he distinguished himself at the storming of that Tartar city. Iván the Terrible personally decorated him for his valour in these and other expeditions against the Tartars, and sent him with an army to Livonia to operate against the Livonian order. In 1563 Kúrbski lost an important battle against Poland. Fearing a terrible vengeance from the cruel Tsar, not only for this defeat, but also for having belonged to the party of Sylvester and Adáshev, he fled to Poland, where he was received with open arms by King Sigismund. As soon as he had reached the city of Volmar, then in the hands of the Lithuanians, he sent his faithful servant Váska Shibánov with an epistle (here given) to the Tsar. Iván, upon learning from Shibánov that the letter he brought him was from the traitor Kúrbski, struck the sharp point of his staff through the messenger’s foot and ordered him to read its contents. Shibánov did so, without expressing any pain, though he was bleeding profusely.

Kúrbski had belonged in Moscow to the circle of the enlightened churchman Maksím the Greek, who believed in the importance of profane studies. Kúrbski had acquired some knowledge of Latin and Greek, which he perfected in his exile. In Poland he devoted himself to literary studies, translating Chrysostom and Eusebius, and writing a series of four epistles to Iván the Terrible, and others to other prominent personages in Poland. His greatest merit consists in his having written a History of Iván the Terrible, which is the first work in the Russian language to deserve the name of history; for, while the older chronicles gave accounts of events, Kúrbski subordinated them to a general idea which runs through the whole work.

THE STORMING OF KAZÁN

If I wrote everything that took place around the city, there would be a whole book of it. But it is worth mentioning that they used charms against the Christian army by which they caused a great rainstorm. From the beginning of the siege, and when the sun just began to rise, there walked out upon the walls of the city, in our sight, now their old men, now their women, and they began to howl satanic words, all the time waving their garments to our army and turning around in an improper manner. Then there arose a wind, clouds were formed, however clear the day may have begun, and there came such a downpour of rain that all the dry places were changed into bogs and filled with water. And this happened only over our army, and not elsewhere, so that it did not proceed from the condition of the atmosphere.

Seeing this, the Tsar was advised to send to Moscow for the wood from the Saviour’s cross, which is worked into the rood that always lies near the crown of the Tsar. With God’s aid, they reached Moscow in a very short time, travelling by water to Nízhni Nóvgorod in swift Vyátka boats, making the journey in three or four days, and from Nóvgorod to Moscow by fast relays. When the rood was brought, into which is worked the wood from the Saviour’s cross on which our Lord Jesus Christ suffered in the flesh for men, the presbyters made a procession with Christian ceremonies and blessed the water according to church use; through the vivifying power of the cross, the pagan charms disappeared from that very hour completely....

At the end of the seventh week[115] of the city’s investment, we were ordered to prepare the next day before daybreak for a general assault. This was to be the signal: when the powder would explode and would demolish the wall, which had previously been undermined and under which forty-eight barrels of powder had been placed. More than half of the infantry was ordered to the assault, a third of the army, or a little more, remaining in the field to guard the Tsar. We were ready early in the morning, as we were ordered, about two hours before daybreak. I was sent to make the assault at the lower gate, above the river Kazán, and I had with me twelve thousand soldiers. At the four sides of the city were placed strong and brave men, some of them with large detachments.... The Tsar of Kazán and his senators had been informed about all this, and they were prepared against us, as we against them....

Then God helped us! My brother was the first to mount upon the city wall by a ladder, and other brave soldiers were with him. Hacking and spearing the Mussulmans about them, they climbed through the windows of the great tower, and from the tower they rushed down to the large city gate. The Mussulmans turned their backs on the gate and ran up the high hill to the Tsar’s court, which was strongly fortified with a high fence, between palaces and stone mosques. We after them to the Tsar’s palace, even though we were burdened with our armour and many brave men had wounds on their bodies, and very few were left to fight against them. Our army which was left outside of the city, seeing that we were within and that the Tartars had run away from the walls, rushed into the city,—and the wounded that were lying on the ground jumped up, and the dead were resurrected. And not only they, but those in the camp, the cooks and those that had been left to watch the horses, and others who follow with merchandise, all ran into the city, not to fight, but to plunder: that place was indeed full of the richest booty, gold and silver and precious stones, and it teemed with sable furs and other costly things.

LETTER TO IVÁN THE TERRIBLE

To the Tsar, glorified by God, who had once been illustrious in orthodoxy, but who now, through our sins, has become the adversary of both. Those who have sense will understand how that your conscience is corrupt even beyond what is found among the infidels.... I have not allowed before my tongue to utter any of these things, but having suffered the bitterest persecution from you, and from the bitterness of my heart I shall speak to you a little.

Why, O Tsar, have you struck down the mighty in Israel? Why have you delivered to various deaths the generals given to you by God, and why have you spilled their victorious, saintly blood in the temples of the Lord, at your royal banquets? Why have you stained the thresholds of the churches with the blood of the martyrs, and why have you contrived persecutions and death against those who have served you willingly and have laid down their lives for you, accusing good Christians of treason and magic and other unseemly things, and zealously endeavouring to change light into darkness and to call bitter what is sweet?

Of what crime have they been guilty, O Tsar, and with what have they angered you, O Christian vicar? Had they not, through their bravery, destroyed haughty kingdoms, and made those subservient to you by whom our forefathers had been once enslaved? Have not the strong German cities been given to you by God, through their wise foresight? Is that the way you have rewarded us, poor men, by destroying us altogether? Do you, O Tsar, deem yourself to be immortal? Or are you carried away by an unheard-of heresy and imagine that you will not have to appear before the Supreme Judge, the godlike Jesus, who will judge the whole world, but especially cruel tormentors? He, my Christ, who sits on the throne of the cherubim, at the right of the Supreme Power upon high,—will be the judge between you and me.

What evils and persecutions have I not suffered from you! And what misery and torment have you not caused me! And what mean calumnies have you not brought down on me! So many various miseries have befallen me that I cannot count them all to-day: my heart is still oppressed with sorrow on account of them. But I shall say this much: I have been deprived of everything, and through you I am exiled from God’s own country. I did not implore with gentle words, did not entreat you with tearful sobs, did not, through the clergy, beg for any favour from you, and you have repaid me good with evil, and my love with an irreconcilable hatred.

My blood, which has been spilled for you like water, cries to my Lord against you! God sees our hearts: I have diligently searched my mind, have invoked the testimony of my conscience, have looked inwardly, have rummaged, and have not found myself guilty before you in anything. I have all the time led your army, and have brought no dishonour upon you: by the aid of the Lord’s angel, I have obtained brilliant victories to your glory, and never have your armies turned their backs to the enemy, but he has always been gloriously vanquished to your honour. And this I did not in one year, nor in two, but through a long series of years, and with much toil and patience. I always defended my country, and little saw of my parents, nor was I with my wife. I was continually out on expeditions, in distant cities, against your enemies, and suffered much want and sickness, to which my Lord Jesus Christ is a witness. I have frequently been covered with wounds from the hands of the barbarians, in many battles, and all my body is covered with sores. But all this, O Tsar, is as if it had not been, and you have shown me your relentless fury and bitter hatred which is more fiery than a furnace.

I wanted to tell you in order all my warlike exploits that I had performed to your honour, my Christ aiding me, but I did not do so, as God knows them better than man can, for He gives rewards for all this, nay even for a glass of cold water; besides, I know that you know all that as well. Know also this, O Tsar, that you will not behold my face again in this world before the glorious coming of Christ. Nor imagine that I will forgive you what has happened: up to my death will I continually cry out against you in tears to the uncreated Trinity in which I believe, and I call to my aid the Mother of the Prince of the Cherubim, my hope and intercessor, the Virgin Mary, and all the saints, God’s elect, and my forefather, Prince Feódor Rostislávich, whose body is incorrupt, having been preserved for many years, and emits an aromatic odour from his grave and, by the grace of the Holy Ghost, causes miraculous cures, as you, O Tsar, well know.

Do not imagine, O Tsar, in your vanity that those who have been innocently struck down by you, and who are imprisoned and unjustly banished by you, have all perished; do not rejoice and boast your vain victory. Those who have been slain by you stand before the throne of God and ask for vengeance against you; and those of us who are imprisoned or unjustly banished from our country cry day and night to God! Though in your pride you may boast of your evil power in this temporal, transitory world, and invent instruments of torture against the race of Christians, and insult and tread under foot the image of the angel, with the approbation of your flatterers and companions of your table and with the approbation of your boyárs who make your body and soul to perish ... yet this my letter, which is wet with tears, I shall order to be placed in my tomb, in order to go with you before the judgment seat of my Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Written in Volmir, a city of my lord, King August Sigismund, from whom I hope favours and comfort for all my sorrows, through his royal kindness, the Lord aiding me.

FOOTNOTES:

Iván the Terrible. (1530-1584.)

Iván the Terrible united the qualities of a great ruler with those of a most cruel tyrant. In his long epistles to Kúrbski he develops a strong sarcastic vein and defends himself with specious arguments, quoting copiously from the Bible and the Church Fathers. He denies his cruelty, but admits the execution of traitors, who, in his case, form an enormous category.

LETTER TO PRINCE KÚRBSKI

Our God, the Trinity, who has existed since eternity but now as Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, has neither beginning nor end; through Him we live and move about, through Him kings rule and the mighty write laws. By our Lord Jesus Christ the victorious standard of God’s only Word and the blessed Cross which has never been vanquished have been given to Emperor Constantine, first in piety, and to all the orthodox tsars and protectors of orthodoxy and, in so far as the Word of God has been fulfillen, they, in eagle’s flight, have reached all the godly servants of God’s Word, until a spark of piety has fallen upon the Russian realm. The autocracy, by God’s will, had its origin in Grand Prince Vladímir, who had enlightened all Russia through the holy baptism, and the great Tsar Vladímir Monomákh, who had received memorable honours from the Greeks, and the valiant great Tsar Alexander Névski, who had obtained a great victory over the godless Germans, and the praiseworthy great Tsar Dmítri, who had obtained a great victory over the Hagarites beyond the Don, then it passed to the avenger of wrongs, our ancestor, the great Tsar Iván, the gatherer of the Russian land from among the ancestral possessions, and to our father of blessed memory, the great Tsar Vasíli, until it reached us, the humble sceptre-bearer of the Russian empire.

But we praise God for the great favour He has shown me in not permitting my right hand to become stained by the blood of my race: for we have not snatched the realm from anyone, but by the will of God and the blessing of our ancestors and parents, were we born in the realm, were brought up there and enthroned, taking, by the will of God and the blessing of our ancestors and parents, what belonged to us, and not seizing that which was not ours. Here follows the command of the orthodox, truly Christian autocrat, the possessor of many kingdoms,—our humble, Christian answer to him who was an orthodox, true Christian and a boyár of our realm, a councillor and a general, but now is a criminal before the blessed, vivifying cross of the Lord, a destroyer of Christians, a servant of the enemies of Christianity, who has departed from the divine worship of the images and has trodden under foot all sacred commands, destroyed the holy edifices, vilified and trampled the holy vessels and images, who unites in one person Leo the Isaurian, Constantine Kopronymos and Leo of Armenia,—to Prince Andréy Mikháylovich Kúrbski, who through treachery wanted to become a ruler of Yarosláv.

Wherefore, O Prince, if you regard yourself to have piety, have you lost your soul? What will you give in its place on the day of the terrible judgment? Even if you should acquire the whole world, death will reach you in the end! Why have you sold your soul for your body’s sake? Is it because you were afraid of death at the false instigation of your demons and influential friends and counsellors?...

Are you not ashamed before your slave Váska Shibánov, who preserved his piety and, having attached himself to you with a kiss of the cross, did not reject you before the Tsar and the whole people, though standing at the gate of death, but praised you and was all too ready to die for you? But you did not emulate his devotion: on account of a single angry word of mine, have you lost not only your own soul, but the souls of all your ancestors: for, by God’s will, had they been given as servants to our grandfather, the great Tsar, and they gave their souls to him and served him up to their death, and ordered you, their children, to serve the children and grandchildren of our grandfather. But you have forgotten everything and traitorously, like a dog, have you transgressed the oath and have gone over to the enemies of Christianity, and, not considering your wrath, you utter stupid words, hurling, as it were, stones at the sky....

We have never spilled blood in the churches. As for the victorious, saintly blood,—there has none appeared in our land, as far as we know. The thresholds of the churches: as far as our means and intelligence permit and our subjects are eager to serve us, the churches of the Lord are resplendent with all kinds of adornments, and through the gifts which we have offered since your satanic domination, not only the thresholds and pavements, but even the antechambers shine with ornaments, so that all the strangers may see them. We do not stain the thresholds of the churches with any blood, and there are no martyrs of faith with us now-a-days.... Tortures and persecutions and deaths in many forms we have devised against no one. As to treasons and magic, it is true, such dogs everywhere suffer capital punishment....

It had pleased God to take away our mother, the pious Tsarítsa Helen, from the earthly kingdom to the kingdom of heaven. My brother George, who now rests in heaven, and I were left orphans and, as we received no care from any one, we laid our trust in the Holy Virgin, and in the prayers of all the saints, and in the blessing of our parents. When I was in my eighth year, our subjects acted according to their will, for they found the empire without a ruler, and did not deign to bestow their voluntary attention upon us, their master, but were bent on acquiring wealth and glory, and were quarrelling with each other. And what have they not done! How many boyárs, how many friends of our father and generals they have killed! And they seized the farms and villages and possessions of our uncles, and established themselves therein. The treasure of our mother they trod under foot and pierced with sharp sticks, and transferred it to the great treasure, but some of it they grabbed themselves; and that was done by your grandfather Mikháylo Tuchkóv. The Princes Vasíli and Iván Shúyski took it upon themselves to have me in their keeping, and those who had been the chief traitors of our father and mother they let out of prison, and they made friends with them. Prince Vasíli Shúyski with a Judas crowd fell in the court belonging to our uncle upon our father confessor Fedór Mishúrin, and insulted him, and killed him; and they imprisoned Prince Iván Fedórovich Byélski and many others in various places, and armed themselves against the realm; they ousted metropolitan Daniel from the metropolitan see and banished him: and thus they improved their opportunity, and began to rule themselves.

Me and my brother George, of blessed memory, they brought up like vagrants and children of the poorest. What have I not suffered for want of garments and food! And all that against my will and as did not become my extreme youth. I shall mention just one thing: once in my childhood we were playing, and Prince Iván Vasílevich Shúyski was sitting on a bench, leaning with his elbow against our father’s bed, and even putting his foot upon it; he treated us not as a parent, but as a master ... who could bear such presumption? How can I recount all the miseries which I have suffered in my youth? Often did I dine late, against my will. What had become of the treasure left me by my father? They had carried everything away, under the cunning pretext that they had to pay the boyár children from it, but, in reality, they had kept it back from them, to their own advantage, and had not paid them off according to their deserts; and they had also held back an immense treasure of my grandfather and father, and made it into gold and silver vessels, inscribing thereupon the names of their parents, as if they had been their inheritance.... It is hardly necessary to mention what became of the treasure of our uncles: they appropriated it all to themselves! Then they attacked towns and villages, tortured the people most cruelly, brought much misery upon them, and mercilessly pillaged the possessions of the inhabitants....

When we reached the age of fifteen, we, inspired by God, undertook to rule our own realm and, with the aid of almighty God, we ruled our realm in peace and undisturbed, according to our will. But it happened then that, on account of our sins, a fire having spread, by God’s will, the royal city of Moscow was consumed. Our boyárs, the traitors whom you call martyrs, whose names I shall purposely pass over in silence, made use of the favourable opportunity for their mean treachery, whispered into the ears of a stupid crowd that the mother of my mother, Princess Anna Glínski, with all her children and household, was in the habit of extracting men’s hearts, and that by a similar sorcery she had put Moscow on fire, and that we knew of her doings. By the instigation of these our traitors, a mass of insensate people, crying in the manner of the Jews, came to the apostolic cathedral of the holy martyr Dimítri of Selún, dragged out of it our boyár Yúri Vasílevich Glínski, pulled him inhumanly into the cathedral of the Assumption, and killed the innocent man in the church, opposite the metropolitan’s place; they stained the floor of the church with his blood, dragged his body through the front door, and exposed him on the market-place as a criminal,—everybody knows about this murder in the church. We were then living in the village of Vorobévo; the same traitors instigated the populace to kill us under the pretext (and you, dog, repeat the lie) that we were keeping from them Prince Yúri’s mother, Princess Anna, and his brother, Prince Mikhaíl. How is one not to laugh at such stupidity? Why should we be incendiaries in our own empire?...

You say that your blood has been spilled in wars with foreigners, and you add, in your foolishness, that it cries to God against us. That is ridiculous! It has been spilled by one, and it cries out against another. If it is true that your blood has been spilled by the enemy, then you have done your duty to your country; if you had not done so, you would not have been a Christian but a barbarian:—but that is not our affair. How much more ours, that has been spilled by you, cries out to the Lord against you! Not with wounds, nor drops of blood, but with much sweating and toiling have I been burdened by you unnecessarily and above my strength! Your many meannesses and persecutions have caused me, instead of blood, to shed many tears, and to utter sobs and have anguish of my soul....

You say you want to put your letter in your grave: that shows that you have completely renounced your Christianity! For God has ordered not to resist evil, but you renounce the final pardon which is granted to the ignorant; therefore it is not even proper that any mass shall be sung after you. In our patrimony, in the country of Lifland, you name the city of Volmir as belonging to our enemy, King Sigismund: by this you only complete the treachery of a vicious dog!...

Written in our great Russia, in the famous, royal capital city of Moscow, on the steps of our imperial threshold, in the year from the creation of the world 7072, the fifth day of July.

The Domostróy. (XVI. century.)

The Domostróy, i. e., House-government, is an important document of the sixteenth century, as it throws a light on the inner life of the Russians in the time of Iván the Terrible. Its authorship is ascribed in the extant manuscripts to Sylvester, the adviser of Iván the Terrible, but it is assumed that he was only the last compiler of various codes of conduct that were known in Russia before his day. At least, the whole production bears the stamp of being a composite work. Two distinct groups are discerned in it: the first has continual references to the Tsar and the honours due him; the other deals with a society whose chief interest is purely commercial, and appeals to the judgment of the people, instead of to that of the Tsar. From this the inference is drawn that the first had its origin in Moscow, the second in Nóvgorod. The morality of the Domostróy is one of external formalism. To preserve appearances before God and men is, according to this code, the chief aim in life.

HOW TO EDUCATE CHILDREN AND BRING THEM UP IN THE FEAR OF GOD

If God send children, sons or daughters, father and mother must take care of these their children. Provide for them and bring them up in good instruction. Teach them the fear of God and politeness and propriety, and teach them some handicraft, according to the time and age of the children: the mother instructing her daughters, and the father his sons, as best he knows and God counsels him. Love them and watch them and save them through fear. Teaching and instructing them and reasoning with them, punish them. Teach your children in their youth, and you will have a quiet old age. Look after their bodily cleanliness, and keep them from all sin, like the apple of your eye and your own souls. If the children transgress through the neglect of their parents, the parents will answer for these sins on the day of the terrible judgment. If the children are not taken care of and transgress through lack of the parents’ instruction, or do some evil, there will be both to the parents and children a sin before God, scorn and ridicule before men, a loss to the house, grief to oneself, and cost and shame from the judges. If by God-fearing, wise and sensible people the children be brought up in the fear of God, and in good instruction and sensible teaching, in wisdom and politeness and work and handicraft, such children and their parents are loved by God, blessed by the clerical vocation, and praised by good people; and when they are of the proper age, good people will gladly and thankfully marry off their sons, according to their possessions and the will of God, and will give their daughters in marriage to their sons. And if God take away one of their children, after the confession and extreme unction, the parents bring a pure offering to God, to take up an abode in the eternal mansion; and the child is bold to beg for God’s mercy and forgiveness of his parents’ sins.

HOW TO TEACH CHILDREN AND SAVE THEM THROUGH FEAR

Punish your son in his youth, and he will give you a quiet old age, and restfulness to your soul. Weaken not beating the boy, for he will not die from your striking him with the rod, but will be in better health: for while you strike his body, you save his soul from death. If you love your son, punish him frequently, that you may rejoice later. Chide your son in his childhood, and you will be glad in his manhood, and you will boast among evil persons, and your enemies will be envious. Bring up your child with much prohibition, and you will have peace and blessing from him. Do not smile at him, or play with him, for though that will diminish your grief while he is a child, it will increase it when he is older, and you will cause much bitterness to your soul. Give him no power in his youth, but crush his ribs while he is growing and does not in his wilfulness obey you, lest there be an aggravation and suffering to your soul, a loss to your house, destruction to your property, scorn from your neighbours and ridicule from your enemies, and cost and worriment from the authorities.

HOW CHRISTIANS ARE TO CURE DISEASES AND ALL KINDS OF AILMENTS

If God send any disease or ailment down upon a person, let him cure himself through the grace of God, through tears, prayer, fasting, charity to the poor, and true repentance. Let him thank the Lord and beg His forgiveness, and show mercy and undisguised charity to everybody. Have the clergy pray to the Lord for you, and sing the mass. Sanctify the water with the holy crosses and holy relics and miracle-working images, and be anointed with the holy oil. Frequent the miracle-working and holy places, and pray there with a pure conscience. In that way you will receive from God a cure for all your ailments. But you must henceforth abstain from sin, and in the future do no wrong, and keep the commands of the spiritual fathers, and do penance. Thus you will be purified from sin, and your spiritual and bodily ailment will be cured, and God will be gracious to you.

THE WIFE IS ALWAYS AND IN ALL THINGS TO TAKE COUNSEL WITH HER HUSBAND

In all affairs of every-day life, the wife is to take counsel with her husband, and to ask him, if she needs anything. Let her be sure that her husband wants her to keep company with the guests she invites, or the people she calls upon. Let her put on the best garment, if she receives a guest, or herself is invited somewhere to dinner. By all means let her abstain from drinking liquor, for a drunk man is bad enough, but a drunk woman has no place in the world. A woman ought to talk with her lady-friends of handwork and housekeeping. She must pay attention to any good word that is said in her own house, or in that of her friend: how good women live, how they keep house, manage their household, instruct their children and servants, obey their husbands, and ask their advice in everything, and submit to them. And if there be aught she does not know, let her politely inquire about it.... It is good to meet such good women, not for the sake of eating and drinking with them, but for the sake of good converse and information, for it is profitable to listen to them. Let not a woman rail at anyone, or gossip about others. If she should be asked something about a person, let her answer: “I know nothing about it, and have heard nothing of it; I do not inquire about things that do not concern me; nor do I sit in judgment over the wives of princes, boyárs, or my neighbours.”

HOW TO INSTRUCT SERVANTS

Enjoin your servants not to talk about other people. If they have been among strangers, and have noticed anything bad there, let them not repeat it at home; nor should they bruit about what is going on at home. A servant must remember what he has been sent for, and he must not know, nor answer any other questions that are put to him. The moment he has carried out his commission, he should return home and report to his master in regard to the matter he has been sent for; let him not gossip of things he has not been ordered to report, lest he cause quarrel and coldness between the masters.

If you send your servant, or son, to tell, or do something, or buy a thing, ask him twice: “What have I ordered you to do? What are you to say, or do, or buy?” If he repeats to you as you have ordered him, all is well.... If you send anywhere some eatables or liquids, send full measures, so that they cannot lie about them. Send your wares after having measured or weighed them, and count the money, before you send it out. Best of all, dispatch under seal. Carefully instruct the servant whether he is to leave the things at the house, if the master be absent, or if he is to bring them back home....

When a servant is sent to genteel people, let him knock at the door softly. If anyone should ask him, as he passes through the courtyard: “What business brings you here?” let him not give him any satisfaction, but say: “I have not been sent to you; I shall tell to him to whom I have been sent.” Let him clean his dirty feet before the ante-chamber, or house, or cell, wipe his nose, clear his throat, and correctly say his prayer; and if he does not receive an “amen” in response, he should repeat the prayer in a louder voice, twice or three times. If he still receives no answer, he must softly knock at the door. When he is admitted, he should bow before the holy images, give his master’s respects, and tell his message. While doing so, let him not put his finger in his nose, nor cough, nor clean his nose, nor clear his throat, nor spit. If he absolutely must do so, let him step aside. He must stand straight and not look to either side when reporting the message; nor should he relate any matter not relevant to the message. Having done his duty, he should forthwith return home, to report to his master.