![]() Taras Bulba ![]() The besieged took courage, and prepared to offer battle. Taras had
already divined it from the noise and movement in the city, and hastened
about, making his arrangements, forming his men, and giving orders and
instructions. He ranged the kuréns in three camps, surrounding them with the
wagons as bulwarks--a formation in which the Zaporozhtzi were
invincible--ordered two kuréns into ambush, and drove sharp stakes, broken
guns, and fragments of spears into a part of the plain, with a view to
forcing the enemy's cavalry upon it if an opportunity should present itself.
When all was done which was necessary, he made a speech to the Kozaks, not
for the purpose of encouraging and freshening up their spirits--he knew
their souls were strong without that--but simply because he wished to tell
them all he had upon his heart. "I want to tell you, brother gentles, what our brotherhood is. You have
heard from your fathers and grandfathers in what honour our land has always
been held by all. We made ourselves known to the Greeks, and we took gold
from Constantinople, and our cities were luxurious, and we had, too, our
temples, and our princes--the princes of the Russian people, our own
princes, not Catholic unbelievers. But the Muslims took all; all
vanished, and we remained defenceless; yea, like a widow after the death of
a powerful husband: defenceless was our land as well as ourselves! Such was
the time, comrades, when we joined hands in a brotherhood: that is what our
fellowship consists in. There is no more sacred brotherhood. The father
loves his children, the mother loves her children, the children love their
father and mother; but this is not like that, brothers. The wild beast also
loves its young. But a man can be related only by similarity of mind and not
of blood. There have been brotherhoods in other lands, but never any such
brotherhoods as on our Ukrainian soil. It has happened to many of you to be in
foreign lands. You look: there are people there also, God's creatures, too;
and you talk with them as with the men of your own country. But when it
comes to saying a hearty word--you will see. No! they are sensible people,
but not the same; the same kind of people, and yet not the same! No, Thus spoke the hetman; and after he had finished his speech he still
continued to shake his head, which had grown grey in Kozak service. All
who stood there were deeply affected by his speech, which went to their very
hearts. The oldest in the ranks stood motionless, their grey heads drooping.
Tears trickled quietly from their aged eyes; they wiped them slowly away
with their sleeves, and then all, as if with one consent, waved their hands
in the air at the same moment, and shook their experienced heads. For it was
evident that old Taras recalled to them many of the best-known and finest
traits of the heart in a man who has become wise through suffering, toil,
daring, and every earthly misfortune, or, though unknown to them, of many
things felt by young, pure spirits, to the eternal joy of the parents who
bore them.
But the army of the enemy was already marching out of the city, sounding
drums and trumpets; and the nobles, with their arms akimbo, were riding
forth too, surrounded by innumerable servants. The stout colonel gave his
orders, and they began to advance briskly on the Kozak camps, pointing
their matchlocks threateningly. Their eyes flashed, and they were brilliant
with brass armour. As soon as the Kozaks saw that they had come within
gunshot, their matchlocks thundered all together, and they continued to fire
without cessation.
The detonations resounded through the distant fields and meadows, merging
into one continuous roar. The whole plain was shrouded in smoke, but the
Zaporozhtzi continued to fire without drawing breath--the rear ranks doing
nothing but loading the guns and handing them to those in front, thus
creating amazement among the enemy, who could not understand how the
Kozaks fired without reloading. Amid the dense smoke which enveloped both
armies, it could not be seen how first one and then another dropped: but the
Lyakhs felt that the balls flew thickly, and that the affair was growing
hot; and when they retreated to escape from the smoke and see how matters
stood, many were missing from their ranks, but only two or three out of a
hundred were killed on the Kozak side. Still the Kozaks went on firing
off their matchlocks without a moment's intermission. Even the foreign
engineers were amazed at tactics heretofore unknown to them, and said then
and there, in the presence of all, "These Zaporozhtzi are brave fellows.
That is the way men in other lands ought to fight." And they advised that
the cannons should at once be turned on the camps. Heavily roared the iron
cannons with their wide throats; the earth hummed and trembled far and wide,
and the smoke lay twice as heavy over the plain. They smelt the reek of the
powder among the squares and streets in the most distant as well as the
nearest quarters of the city. But those who laid the cannons pointed them
too high, and the shot describing too wide a curve flew over the heads of
the camps, and buried themselves deep in the earth at a distance, tearing
the ground, and throwing the black soil high in the air. At the sight of
such lack of skill the French engineer tore his hair, and undertook to lay
the cannons himself, heeding not the Kozak bullets which showered round
him.
Taras saw from afar that destruction menaced the whole Nezamáikovsky and
Steblikivsky kuréns, and gave a ringing shout, "Get away from the wagons
instantly, and mount your horses!" But the Kozaks would not have succeeded
in effecting both these movements if Ostap had not dashed into the middle of
the foe and wrenched the linstocks from six cannoneers. But he could not
wrench them from the other four, for the Lyakhs drove him back. Meanwhile
the foreign captain had taken the lunt in his own hand to fire the largest
cannon, such a cannon as none of the Kozaks had ever beheld before. It
looked horrible with its wide mouth, and a thousand deaths poured forth from
it. And as it thundered, the three others followed, shaking in fourfold
earthquake the dully responsive earth. Much woe did they cause. For more
than one Kozak wailed the aged mother, beating with bony hands her feeble
breast; more than one widow was left in Glukhof, Nemirof, Chernigof, and
other cities. The loving woman will hasten forth every day to the bazaar,
grasping at all passers-by, scanning the face of each to see if there be not
among them one dearer than all; but though many an army will pass through
the city, never among them will a single one of all their dearest be.
Half the Nezamáikovsky kurén was as if it had never been. As the hail
suddenly beats down a field where every ear of grain shines like purest
gold, so were they beaten down.
How the Kozaks hastened thither! How they all started up! How raged
Kukubenko, the hetman, when he saw that the best half of his kurén was no
more! He fought his way with his remaining Nezamáikovtzi to the very midst
of the fray, cut down in his wrath, like a cabbage, the first man he met,
hurled many a rider from his steed, piercing both horse and man with his
lance; and making his way to the gunners, captured some of the cannons. Here
he found the hetman of the Oumansky kurén, and Stepan Guska, hard at work,
having already seized the largest cannon. He left those Kozaks there, and
plunged with his own into another mass of the foe, making a lane through it.
Where the Nezamáikovtzi passed there was a street; where they turned about
there was a square as where streets meet. The foemen's ranks were visibly
thinning, and the Lyakhs falling in sheaves. Beside the wagons stood
Vovtuzenko, and in front Tcherevitchenko, and by the more distant ones
Degtyarenko; and behind them the kurén hetman, Vertikhvist. Degtyarenko had
pierced two Lyakhs with his spear, and now attacked a third, a stout
antagonist. Agile and strong was the Lyakh, with glittering arms, and
accompanied by fifty followers. He fell fiercely upon Degtyarenko, struck
him to the earth, and, flourishing his sword above him, cried, "There is not
one of you Kozak dogs who has dared to oppose me."
"Here is one," said Mosiy Schilo, and stepped forward. He was a muscular
Kozak, who had often commanded at sea, and undergone many vicissitudes.
The Turks had once seized him and his men at Trebizond, and borne them
captives to the galleys, where they bound them hand and foot with iron
chains, gave them no food for a week at a time, and made them drink
sea-water. The poor prisoners endured and suffered all, but would not
renounce their orthodox faith. Their hetman, Mosiy Schilo, could not bear
it: he trampled the Holy Scriptures under foot, wound the vile turban about
his sinful head, and became the favourite of a pasha, steward of a ship, and
ruler over all the galley slaves. The poor slaves sorrowed greatly thereat,
for they knew that if he had renounced his faith he would be a tyrant, and
his hand would be the more heavy and severe upon them. So it turned out.
Mosiy Schilo had them put in new chains, three to an oar. The cruel fetters
cut to the very bone; and he beat them upon the back. But when the Turks,
rejoicing at having obtained such a servant, began to carouse, and,
forgetful of their law, got all drunk, he distributed all the sixty-four
keys among the prisoners, in order that they might free themselves, fling
their chains and manacles into the sea, and, seizing their swords, in turn
kill the Turks. Then the Kozaks collected great booty, and returned with
glory to their country; and the guitar-players celebrated Mosiy Schilo's
exploits for a long time. They would have elected him Koschevoi, but he was
a very eccentric Kozak. At one time he would perform some feat which the
most sagacious would never have dreamed of. At another, folly simply took
possession of him, and he drank and squandered everything away, was in debt
to every one in the Sich, and, in addition to that, stole like a street
thief. He carried off a whole Kozak equipment from a strange kurén by
night and pawned it to the tavern-keeper. For this dishonourable act they
bound him to a post in the bazaar, and laid a club beside him, in order that
every one who passed should, according to the measure of his strength, deal
him a blow. But there was not one Zaporozhetz out of them all to be found
who would raise the club against him, remembering his former services. Such
was the Kozak, Mosiy Schilo.
"Here is one who will kill you, dog!" he said, springing upon the Lyakh.
How they hacked away! their shoulder-plates and breast-plates bent under
their blows. The hostile Lyakh cut through Schilo's shirt of mail, reaching
the body itself with his blade. The Kozak's shirt was dyed purple: but
Schilo heeded it not. He brandished his brawny hand, heavy indeed was that
mighty fist, and brought the pommel of his sword down unexpectedly upon his
foeman's head. The brazen helmet flew into pieces and the Lyakh staggered
and fell; but Schilo went on hacking and cutting gashes in the body of the
stunned man. Kill not utterly thine enemy, Kozak: look back rather! The
Kozak did not turn, and one of the dead man's servants plunged a knife
into his neck. Schilo turned and tried to seize him, but he disappeared amid
the smoke of the powder. On all sides rose the roar of matchlocks. Schilo
knew that his wound was mortal. He fell with his hand upon his wound, and
said, turning to his comrades, "Farewell, brother gentles, my comrades! may
the holy Ukrainian land stand forever, and may it be eternally honoured!" And
as he closed his failing eyes, the Kozak soul fled from his grim body.
Then Zadorozhniy came forward with his men, Vertikhvist issued from the
ranks, and Balaban stepped forth.
"What now, gentles?" said Taras, calling to the hetmans by name: "there
is yet powder in the power-flasks? The Kozak force is not weakened? the
Kozaks do not yield?"
"There is yet powder in the flasks, father; the Kozak force is not
weakened yet: the Kozaks yield not!"
And the Kozaks pressed vigorously on: the foemen's ranks were
disordered. The short colonel beat the assembly, and ordered eight painted
standards to be displayed to collect his men, who were scattered over all
the plain. All the Lyakhs hastened to the standards. But they had not yet
succeeded in ranging themselves in order, when the hetman Kukubenko attacked
their centre again with his Nezamáikovtzi and fell straight upon the stout
colonel. The colonel could not resist the attack, and, wheeling his horse
about, set out at a gallop; but Kukubenko pursued him for a considerable
distance cross the plain and prevented him from joining his regiment.
Perceiving this from the kurén on the flank, Stepan Guska set out after
him, lasso in hand, bending his head to his horse's neck. Taking advantage
of an opportunity, he cast his lasso about his neck at the first attempt.
The colonel turned purple in the face, grasped the cord with both hands, and
tried to break it; but with a powerful thrust Stepan drove his lance through
his body, and there he remained pinned to the earth. But Guska did not
escape his fate. The Kozaks had but time to look round when they beheld
Stepan Guska elevated on four spears. All the poor fellow succeeded in
saying was, "May all our enemies perish, and may the Ukrainian land rejoice
forever!" and then he yielded up his soul.
The Kozaks glanced around, and there was Metélitza on one side,
entertaining the Lyakhs by dealing blows on the head to one and another; on
the other side, the hetman Nevelitchkiy was attacking with his men; and
Zakrutibuga was repulsing and slaying the enemy by the wagons. The third
Pisarenko had repulsed a whole squadron from the more distant wagons; and
they were still fighting and killing amongst the other wagons, and even
upon them.
"How now, gentles?" cried Taras, stepping forward before them all: "is
there still powder in your flasks? Is the Kozak force still strong? do the
Kozaks yield?"
"There is still powder in the flasks, father; the Kozak force is still
strong: the Kozaks yield not!"
But Bovdug had already fallen from the wagons; a bullet had struck him
just below the heart. The old man collected all his strength, and said, "I
sorrow not to part from the world. God grant every man such an end! May the
Ukrainian land be forever glorious!" And Bovdug's spirit flew above, to tell
the old men who had gone on long before that men still knew how to fight on
Ukrainian soil, and better still, that they knew how to die for it and the
holy faith.
Balaban, hetman of a kurén, soon after fell to the ground also from a
wagon. Three mortal wounds had he received from a lance, a bullet, and a
sword. He had been one of the very best of Kozaks, and had accomplished a
great deal as a commander on naval expeditions; but more glorious than all
the rest was his raid on the shores of Anatolia. They collected many
sequins, much valuable Turkish plunder, caftans, and adornments of every
description. But misfortune awaited them on their way back. They came across
the Turkish fleet, and were fired on by the ships. Half the boats were
crushed and overturned, drowning more than one; but the bundles of reeds
bound to the sides, Kozak fashion, saved the boats from completely
sinking. Balaban rowed off at full speed, and steered straight in the face
of the sun, thus rendering himself invisible to the Turkish ships. All the
following night they spent in baling out the water with pails and their
caps, and in repairing the damaged places. They made sails out of their
Kozak trousers, and, sailing off, escaped from the fastest Turkish
vessels. And not only did they arrive unharmed at the Sich, but they
brought a gold-embroidered vesture for the archimandrite at the Mezhigorsky
Monastery in Kyiv, and an ikon frame of pure silver for the church in honour
of the Intercession of the Virgin Mary, which is in Zaporozhe. The
guitar-players celebrated the daring of Balaban and his Kozaks for a long
time afterwards. Now he bowed his head, feeling the pains which precede
death, and said quietly, "I am permitted, brother gentles, to die a fine
death. Seven have I hewn in pieces, nine have I pierced with my lance, many
have I trampled upon with my horse's hoofs; and I no longer remember how
many my bullets have slain. May our Ukrainian land flourish forever!" and his
spirit fled.
Kozaks, Kozaks! abandon not the flower of your army. Already was
Kukubenko surrounded, and seven men only remained of all the Nezamáikovsky
kurén, exhausted and with garments already stained with their blood. Taras
himself, perceiving their straits, hastened to their rescue; but the
Kozaks arrived too late. Before the enemies who surrounded him could be
driven off, a spear was buried just below Kukubenko's heart. He sank into
the arms of the Kozaks who caught him, and his young blood flowed in a
stream, like precious wine brought from the cellar in a glass vessel by
careless servants, who, stumbling at the entrance, break the rich flask. The
wine streams over the ground, and the master, hastening up, tears his hair,
having reserved it, in order that if God should grant him, in his old age,
to meet again the comrade of his youth, they might over it recall together
former days, when a man enjoyed himself otherwise and better than now.
Kukubenko cast his eyes around, and said, "I thank God that it has been my
lot to die before your eyes, comrades. May they live better who come after
us than we have lived; and may our Ukrainian land, beloved by Christ, flourish
forever!" and his young spirit fled. The angels took it in their arms and
bore it to heaven: it will be well with him there. "Sit down at my right
hand, Kukubenko," Christ will say to him: "you never betrayed your comrades,
you never committed a dishonourable act, you never sold a man into misery,
you preserved and defended my church." The death of Kukubenko saddened them
all. The Kozak ranks were terribly thinned. Many brave men were missing,
but the Kozaks still stood their ground.
"How now, gentles," cried Taras to the remaining kuréns: "is there still
powder in your flasks? Are your swords blunted? Are the Kozak forces
wearied? Have the Kozaks given way?"
"There is still an abundance of powder; our swords are still sharp; the
Kozak forces are not wearied, and the Kozaks have not yet yielded."
And the Kozaks again strained every nerve, as though they had suffered
no loss. Only three kurén hetmans still remained alive. Red blood flowed in
streams everywhere; heaps of their bodies and of those of the enemy were
piled high. Taras looked up to heaven, and there already hovered a flock of
vultures. Well, there would be prey for some one. And there the foe were
raising Metélitza on their lances, and the head of the second Pisarenko was
dizzily opening and shutting its eyes; and the mangled body of Okhrim Guska
fell upon the ground. "Now," said Taras, and waved a cloth on high. Ostap
understood this signal and springing quickly from his ambush attacked
sharply. The Lyakhs could not withstand this onslaught; and he drove them
back, and chased them straight to the spot where the stakes and fragments of
spears were driven into the earth. The horses began to stumble and fall and
the Lyakhs to fly over their heads. At that moment the Korsuntzi, who had
stood till the last by the baggage wagons, perceived that they still had
some bullets left, and suddenly fired a volley from their matchlocks. The
Lyakhs became confused, and lost their presence of mind; and the Kozaks
took courage. "The victory is ours!" rang Kozak voices on all sides; the
trumpets sounded and the banner of victory was unfurled. The beaten Lyakhs
ran in all directions and hid themselves. "No, the victory is not yet
complete," said Taras, glancing at the city gate; and he was right.
The gates opened, and out dashed a hussar band, the flower of all the
cavalry. Every rider was mounted on a matched brown horse from the Kabardei;
and in front rode the handsomest, the most heroic of them all. His black
hair streamed from beneath his brazen helmet; and from his arm floated a
rich scarf, embroidered by the hands of a peerless beauty. Taras sprang back
in horror when he saw that it was Andríi. And the latter meanwhile,
enveloped in the dust and heat of battle, eager to deserve the scarf which
had been bound as a gift upon his arm, flew on like a greyhound; the
handsomest, most agile, and youngest of all the band. The experienced
huntsman urges on the greyhound, and he springs forward, tossing up the
snow, and a score of times outrunning the hare, in the ardour of his course.
And so it was with Andríi. Old Taras paused and observed how he cleared a
path before him, hewing away and dealing blows to the right and the left.
Taras could not restrain himself, but shouted: "Your comrades! your
comrades! you devil's brat, would you kill your own comrades?" But Andríi
distinguished not who stood before him, comrades or strangers; he saw
nothing. Curls, long curls, were what he saw; and a bosom like that of a
river swan, and a snowy neck and shoulders, and all that is created for
rapturous kisses.
"Hey there, lads! only draw him to the forest, entice him to the forest
for me!" shouted Taras. Instantly thirty of the smartest Kozaks
volunteered to entice him thither; and setting their tall caps firmly
spurred their horses straight at a gap in the hussars. They attacked the
front ranks in flank, beat them down, cut them off from the rear ranks, and
slew many of them. Golopuitenko struck Andríi on the back with his sword,
and immediately set out to ride away at the top of his speed. How Andríi
flew after him! How his young blood coursed through all his veins! Driving
his sharp spurs into his horse's flanks, he tore along after the Kozaks,
never glancing back, and not perceiving that only twenty men at the most
were following him. The Kozaks fled at full gallop, and directed their
course straight for the forest. Andríi overtook them, and was on the point
of catching Golopuitenko, when a powerful hand seized his horse's bridle.
Andríi looked; before him stood Taras! He trembled all over, and turned
suddenly pale, like a student who, receiving a blow on the forehead with a
ruler, flushes up like fire, springs in wrath from his seat to chase his
comrade, and suddenly encounters his teacher entering the classroom; in the
instant his wrathful impulse calms down and his futile anger vanishes. In
this wise, in an instant, Andríi's wrath was as if it had never existed. And
he beheld before him only his terrible father.
"Well, what are we going to do now?" said Taras, looking him straight in
the eyes. But Andríi could make no reply to this, and stood with his eyes
fixed on the ground.
"Well, son; did your Lyakhs help you?"
Andríi made no answer.
"To think that you should be such a traitor! that you should betray your
faith! betray your comrades! Dismount from your horse!"
Obedient as a child, he dismounted, and stood before Taras more dead than
alive.
"Stand still, do not move! I gave you life, I will also kill you!" said
Taras, and, retreating a step backwards, he brought his gun up to his
shoulder. Andríi was white as a sheet; his lips moved gently, and he uttered
a name; but it was not the name of his native land, nor of his mother, nor
his brother; it was the name of the beautiful Pole. Taras fired.
Like the ear of corn cut down by the reaping-hook, like the young lamb
when it feels the deadly steel in its heart, he hung his head and rolled
upon the grass without uttering a word.
The murderer of his son stood still, and gazed long upon the lifeless
body. Even in death he was very handsome; his manly face, so short a time
ago filled with power, and with an irresistible charm for every woman, still
had a marvellous beauty; his black brows, like sombre velvet, set off his
pale features.
"Is he not a true Kozak?" said Taras; "he is tall of stature, and
black-browed, his face is that of a noble, and his hand was strong in
battle! He is fallen! fallen without glory, like a vile dog!"
"Father, what have you done? Was it you who killed him?" said Ostap,
coming up at this moment.
Taras nodded.
Ostap gazed intently at the dead man. He was sorry for his brother, and
said at once: "Let us give him honourable burial, father, that the foe may
not dishonour his body, nor the birds of prey rend it."
"They will bury him without our help," said Taras; "there will be plenty
of mourners and rejoicers for him."
And he reflected for a couple of minutes, whether he should fling him to
the wolves for prey, or respect in him the bravery which every brave man is
bound to honour in another, no matter whom? Then he saw Golopuitenko
galloping towards them and crying: "Woe, hetman, the Lyakhs have been
reinforced, a fresh force has come to their rescue!" Golopuitenko had not
finished speaking when Vovtuzenko galloped up: "Woe, hetman! a fresh force
is bearing down upon us."
Vovtuzenko had not finished speaking when Pisarenko rushed up without his
horse: "Where are you, father? The Kozaks are seeking for you. Hetman
Nevelitchkiy is killed, Zadorozhniy is killed, and Tcherevitchenko: but the
Kozaks stand their ground; they will not die without looking in your eyes;
they want you to gaze upon them once more before the hour of death arrives."
"To horse, Ostap!" said Taras, and hastened to find his Kozaks, to look
once more upon them, and let them behold their hetman once more before the
hour of death. But before they could emerge from the wood, the enemy's force
had already surrounded it on all sides, and horsemen armed with swords and
spears appeared everywhere between the trees. "Ostap, Ostap! don't yield!"
shouted Taras, and grasping his sword he began to cut down all he
encountered on every side. But six suddenly sprang upon Ostap. They did it
in an unpropitious hour: the head of one flew off, another turned to flee, a
spear pierced the ribs of a third; a fourth, more bold, bent his head to
escape the bullet, and the bullet striking his horse's breast, the maddened
animal reared, fell back upon the earth, and crushed his rider under him.
"Well done, son! Well done, Ostap!" cried Taras: "I am following you." And
he drove off those who attacked him. Taras hewed and fought, dealing blows
at one after another, but still keeping his eye upon Ostap ahead. He saw
that eight more were falling upon his son. "Ostap, Ostap! don't yield!" But
they had already overpowered Ostap; one had flung his lasso about his neck,
and they had bound him, and were carrying him away. "Hey, Ostap, Ostap!"
shouted Taras, forcing his way towards him, and cutting men down like
cabbages to right and left. "Hey, Ostap, Ostap!" But something at that
moment struck him like a heavy stone. All grew dim and confused before his
eyes. In one moment there flashed confusedly before him heads, spears,
smoke, the gleam of fire, tree-trunks, and leaves; and then he sank heavily
to the earth like a felled oak, and darkness covered his eyes.
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