CHAPTER XXXVII.
In Warsaw the Swedes had been managing for a long time. Wittemberg, thereal governor of the city and the commander of the garrison, was atthat moment in Cracow; Radzeyovski carried on the government in hisplace. Not less than two thousand soldiers were in the city propersurrounded by walls, and in the jurisdictions beyond the walls built upwith splendid edifices belonging to the church and the world. Thecastle and the city were not destroyed; for Pan Vessel, starosta ofMakovo, had yielded them up without battle, and he with the garrisondisappeared hurriedly, fearing the personal vengeance of Radzeyovski,his enemy.
But when Pan Kmita examined more closely and carefully, he saw on manyhouses the traces of plundering hands. These were the houses of thosecitizens who had fled from the city, not wishing to endure foreignrule, or who had offered resistance when the Swedes were breaking overthe walls.
Of the lordly structures in the jurisdictions those only retained theirformer splendor the owners of which stood soul and body with theSwedes. Therefore the Kazanovski Palace remained in all itsmagnificence, for Radzeyovski had saved that, his own, and the palaceof Konyetspolski, the standard-bearer, as well as the edifice reared byVladislav IV., and which was afterward known as the KazimirovskiPalace. But edifices of the clergy were injured considerably; theDenhof Palace was half wrecked; the chancellor's or the so-calledOssolinski Palace, on Reformatski Street, was plundered to itsfoundations. German hirelings looked out through its windows; and thatcostly furniture which the late chancellor had brought from Italy atsuch outlay,--those Florentine leathers, Dutch tapestry, beautifulcabinets inlaid with mother-of-pearl, pictures, bronze and marblestatues, clocks from Venice and Dantzig, and magnificent glasses wereeither lying in disordered heaps in the yard, or, already packed, werewaiting to be taken, when the time came, by the Vistula to Sweden.Guards watched over these precious things, but meanwhile they werebeing ruined under the wind and rain.
In other cities the same thing might be seen; and though the capitalhad yielded without battle, still thirty gigantic flat-boats were readyon the Vistula to bear away the plunder.
The city looked like a foreign place. On the streets foreign languageswere heard more than Polish; everywhere were met Swedish soldiers,German, French, English, and Scottish mercenaries, in the greatestvariety of uniforms,--in hats, in lofty helmets, in kaftans, inbreastplates, half breastplates, in stockings, or Swedish boots, withlegs as wide as water-buckets. Everywhere a foreign medley, foreigngarments, foreign faces, foreign songs. Even the horses had formsdifferent from those to which the eye was accustomed. There had alsorushed in a multitude of Armenians with dark faces, and black haircovered with bright skull-caps; they had come to buy plunderedarticles.
But most astonishing of all was the incalculable number of gypsies,who, it is unknown for what purpose, had gathered after the Swedes fromall parts of the country. Their tents stood at the side of theUyazdovski Palace, and along the monastery jurisdiction, forming as itwere a special town of linen houses within a town of walled structures.
In the midst of these various-tongued throngs the inhabitants of thecity almost vanished; for their own safety they sat gladly enclosed intheir houses, showing themselves rarely, and then passing swiftly alongthe streets. Only occasionally the carriage of some magnate, hurryingfrom the Cracow suburbs to the castle, and surrounded by haiduks,Turkish grooms, or troops in Polish dress, gave reminder that the citywas Polish.
Only on Sundays and holidays, when the bells announced services, didcrowds come forth from the houses, and the capital put on its formerappearance,--though even then lines of foreign soldiers stood hedgelikein front of the churches, to look at the women or pull at their dresseswhen, with downcast eyes, they walked past them. These soldierslaughed, and sometimes sang vile songs just when the priests weresinging Mass in the churches.
All this flashed past the astonished eyes of Pan Kmita like jugglery;but he did not warm his place long in Warsaw, for not knowing any manhe had no one before whom to open his soul. Even with those Polishnobles who were stopping in the city and living in public houses builtduring the reign of King Sigismund III. on Dluga Street, Pan Andrei didnot associate closely. He conversed, it is true, with this one andthat, to learn the news; but all were fanatical adherents of theSwedes, and waiting for the return of Karl Gustav, clung to Radzeyovskiand the Swedish officers with the hope of receiving starostaships,confiscated private estates, and profits from church and otherrecoupments. Each man of them would have been served rightly had someone spat in his eyes, and from this Kmita did not make great effort torestrain himself.
From the townspeople Kmita only heard that they regretted past times,and the good king of the fallen country. The Swedes persecuted themsavagely, seized their houses, exacted contributions, imprisoned them.They said also that the guilds had arms secreted, especially thelinen-weavers, the butchers, the furriers, and the powerful guild oftailors; that they were looking continually for the return of YanKazimir, did not lose hope, and with assistance from outside were readyto attack the Swedes.
Hearing this, Kmita did not believe his own ears. It could not findplace in his head that men of mean station and rank should exhibit morelove for the country and loyalty to their lawful king than nobles, whoought to bring those sentiments into the world with their birth.
But it was just the nobles and magnates who stood by the Swedes, andthe common people who for the greater part wished to resist; and morethan once it happened that when the Swedes were driving common peopleto work at fortifying Warsaw, these common people chose to endureflogging, imprisonment, even death itself, rather than aid inconfirming Swedish power.
Beyond Warsaw the country was as noisy as in a beehive. All the roads,the towns, and the hamlets were occupied by soldiers, by attendants ofgreat lords and nobles, and by lords and nobles serving the Swedes. Allwas captured, gathered in, subdued; everything was as Swedish as if thecountry had been always in their hands.
Pan Andrei met no people save Swedes, adherents of the Swedes, orpeople in despair, indifferent, who were convinced to the depth oftheir souls that all was lost. No one thought of resistance; commandswere carried out quietly and promptly one half or a tenth part of whichwould have been met in times not long past with opposition and protest.Fear had reached that degree that even those who were injured praisedloudly the kind protector of the Commonwealth.
Formerly it happened often enough that a noble received his own civiland military deputies of exaction with gun in hand, and at the head ofarmed servants; now such tributes were imposed as it pleased the Swedesto impose, and the nobles gave them as obediently as sheep give theirwool to the shearer. It happened more than once that the same tributewas taken twice. It was vain to use a receipt as defence; it was wellif the executing officer did not moisten it in wine and make the manwho showed it swallow the paper. That was nothing! "Vivat protector!"cried the noble; and when the officer had departed he ordered hisservant to crawl out on the roof and see if another were not coming.And well if only all were ended with Swedish contributions; but worsethan the enemy were, in that as in every other land, the traitors. Oldprivate grievances, old offences were brought up; ditches were filled,meadows and forests were seized, and for the friend of the Swedeseverything went unpunished. Worst, however, were the dissidents; andthey were not all. Armed bands were formed of unfortunates,desperadoes, ruffians, and gamblers. Assisted by Swedish marauders,Germans, and disturbers of all kinds, these bands fell upon peasantsand nobles. The country was filled with fires; the armed hand of thesoldier was heavy on the towns; in the forest the robber attacked. Noone thought of curing the Commonwealth; no one dreamed of rescue, ofcasting off the yoke; no one had hope.
It happened that Swedish and German plunderers near Sohachev besiegedPan Lushchevski, the starosta of that place, falling upon him atStrugi, his private estate. He, being of a military turn, defendedhimself vigorously, though an old man. Kmita came just then; and sincehis patience had on it a so
re ready to break at any cause, it broke atStrugi. He permitted the Kyemliches, therefore, "to pound," and fellupon the invaders himself with such vigor that he scattered them,struck them down; no one escaped, even prisoners were drowned at hiscommand. The starosta, to whom the aid was as if it had fallen fromheaven, received his deliverer with thanks and honored him at once. PanAndrei, seeing before him a personage, a statesman, and besides a manof old date, confessed his hatred of the Swedes, and inquired of thestarosta what he thought of the future of the Commonwealth, in the hopethat he would pour balsam on his soul.
But the starosta viewed the past differently, and said: "My gracioussir, I know not what I should have answered had this question been putwhen I had ruddy mustaches and a mind clouded by physical humor; butto-day I have gray mustaches, and the experience of seventy years on myshoulders, and I see future things, for I am near the grave; thereforeI say that not only we, even if we should correct our errors, but allEurope, cannot break the Swedish power."
"How can that be? Where did it come from?" cried Kmita. "When wasSweden such a power? Are there not more of the Polish people on earth,can we not have a larger army? Has that army yielded at any time toSweden in bravery?"
"There are ten times as many of our people. God has increased ourproduce so that in my starostaship of Sohachev more wheat is grown thanin all Sweden; and as to bravery, I was at Kirchholm when threethousand hussars of us scattered in the dust eighteen thousand of thebest troops of Sweden."
"If that is true," said Kmita, whose eyes flashed at remembrance ofKirchholm, "what earthly causes are there why we should not put an endto them now?"
"First, this," answered the old man, with a deliberate voice, "that wehave become small and they have grown great; that they have conqueredus with our own hands, as before now they conquered the Germans withGermans. Such is the will of God; and there is no power, I repeat, thatcan oppose them to-day."
"But if the nobles should come to their senses and rally around theirruler,--if all should seize arms, what would you advise to do then, andwhat would you do yourself?"
"I should go with others and fall, and I should advise every man tofall; but after that would come times on which it is better not tolook."
"Worse times cannot come! As true as life, they cannot! It isimpossible!" cried Kmita.
"You see," continued the starosta, "before the end of the world andbefore the last judgment Antichrist will come, and it is said that evilmen will get the upper hand of the good. Satans will go through theworld, will preach a faith opposed to the true one, and will turn mento it. With the permission of God, evil will conquer everywhere untilthe moment in which trumpeting angels shall sound for the end of theworld."
Here the starosta leaned against the back of the chair on which he wassitting, closed his eyes, and spoke on in a low, mysterious voice,--
"It was said, 'There will be signs.' There have been signs on the sunin the form of a hand and a sword. God be merciful to us, sinners! Theevil gain victory over the just, for the Swedes and their adherents areconquering. The true faith is failing, for behold the Lutheran isrising. Men! do ye not see that _dies irae, dies illa_ (the day ofwrath, that day) is approaching? I am seventy years old; I stand on thebrink of the Styx,--I am waiting for the ferryman and the boat,--Isee--"
Here the starosta became silent, and Kmita looked at him with terror;for the reasons seemed to him just, the conclusions fitting, thereforehe was frightened at his decisions and reflected deeply. But thestarosta did not look at him; he only looked in front of himself, andsaid at last,--
"And of course the Swedes conquer here when that is the permission ofGod, the express will mentioned and spoken of in the Prophecies--Oi,people, to Chenstohova, to Chenstohova!" And again the starosta wassilent.
The sun was just setting, and looking only aslant into the room, itslight broke into colors on the glass fitted in lead, and made sevencolored stripes on the floor; the rest of the room was in darkness. Itbecame more and more awe-inspiring for Kmita; at moments it seemed tohim that if the light were to vanish, that instant the trumpeting angelwould summon to judgment.
"Of what prophecies is your grace speaking?" asked Kmita, at last; forthe silence seemed to him still more solemn.
The starosta instead of an answer turned to the door of an adjoiningroom, and called,--
"Olenka! Olenka!"
"In God's name!" cried Kmita, "whom are you calling?"
At that moment he believed everything,--believed that his Olenka by amiracle was brought from Kyedani and would appear before his eyes. Heforgot everything, fastened his gaze on the door, and waited withoutbreath in his breast.
"Olenka! Olenka!"
The door opened, and there entered not Panna Billevich, but a youngwoman, shapely, slender, tall, a little like Olenka, with dignity andcalm spread over her face. She was pale, perhaps ill, and maybefrightened at the recent attack; she walked with downcast eyes aslightly and quietly as if some breath were moving her forward.
"This is my daughter," said the starosta. "I have no sons at home; theyare with Pan Pototski, and with him near our unfortunate king."
Then he turned to his daughter: "Thank first this manful cavalier forrescuing us, and then read to him the prophecy of Saint Bridget."
The maiden bowed down before Pan Andrei, then went out, and after awhile returned with a printed roll in her hand, and standing in thatmany-colored light, began to read in a resonant and sweet voice,--
"The prophecy of Saint Bridget, I will declare to you first of the fivekings and their rule: Gustav the son of Erick, the lazy ass, becauseneglecting the right worship he went over to the false. Rejecting thefaith of the Apostles, he brought to the kingdom the AugsburgConfession, putting a stain on his reputation. Look at Ecclesiastes,where it is stated of Solomon that lie defiled his glory withidolatry--"
"Are you listening?" asked the starosta, pointing toward Kmita with theindex finger of his left hand and holding the others, ready forcounting.
"Yes," answered Kmita.
"Erick, the son of Gustavus, a wolf of unsatiable greed," read thelady, "with which he drew on himself the hatred of all men and of hisbrother Yan. First, suspecting Yan of intrigues with Denmark andPoland, he tormented him with war, and taking him with his wife he heldthem four years in a dungeon. Yan, at last brought out of imprisonmentand aided by change of fortune, conquered Erick, expelled him from thekingdom, and put him into prison forevermore. There is an unforeseenevent!"
"Consider," said the old man. "Here is another."
The lady read further:--
"Yan, the brother of Erick, a lofty eagle, thrice conqueror over Erick,the Danes, and the Northerners. His son Sigismund, in whom dwellsnobility of blood, chosen to the Polish throne. Praise to hisoffshoots!"
"Do you understand?" asked the starosta. "May God prosper the years ofYan Kazimir!" answered Kmita.
"Karl, the prince of Sudermanii, the ram, who as rams lead the flock,so he led the Swedes to injustice; and he attacked justice."
"That is the fourth!" interrupted the starosta.
"The fifth, Gustavus Adolphus," read the lady, "is the lamb slain, butnot spotless, whose blood was the cause of suffering and misfortune--"
"Yes; that is Gustavus Adolphus!" said the starosta. "Of Christianathere is no mention, for only men are counted. Read now the end, whichrefers accurately to the present time."
She read as follows:--
"I will show to thee the sixth, who distracts land and sea and bringstrouble on the simple; whose hour of punishment I will place in my ownhand. Though he attained his end quickly, my judgment draws near him;he will leave the kingdom in suffering and it will be written: Theysowed rebellion and reap suffering and pain. Not only will I visit thatkingdom, but rich cities and powerful; for the hungry are called, whowill devour their sufficiency. Internal evils will not be lacking, andmisfortune will abound. The foolish will rule, and the wise and the oldmen will not raise their heads. Honor and truth will fall, till thatman s
hall come who will implore away my anger and who will not sparehis own soul in love of truth."
"There you have it!" said the starosta.
"All is verified, so that only a blind man could doubt!" answeredKmita.
"Therefore the Swedes cannot be conquered," said the starosta.
"Till that man shall come who will not spare his soul for the love oftruth!" exclaimed Kmita. "The prophecy leaves hope! Not judgment, butsalvation awaits us."
"Sodom was to be spared if ten just men could be found in it," said thestarosta; "but that many were not found. In the same manner will not befound the man who will not spare his soul for love of truth; and thehour of judgment will strike."
"It cannot be but that he will be found," called out Kmita.
Before the starosta answered the door opened, and into the room walkeda man no longer young, in armor and with a musket in his hand.
"Pan Shchebjytski?" said the starosta.
"Yes," answered the newly arrived. "I heard that ruffians had besiegedyou, and I hastened with my servants to the rescue."
"Without the will of God a hair will not fall from the head of a man,"answered the starosta. "This cavalier has already freed me fromoppression. But whence do you come?"
"From Sohachev."
"Have you heard anything new?"
"Every news is worse. New misfortune--"
"What has happened?"
"The provinces of Cracow, Sandomir, Rus, Lubelsk, Belzk, Volynia, andKieff have surrendered to Karl Gustav. The act is already signed byenvoys and by Karl."
The starosta shook his head, and turned to Kmita,--
"See," said he, "do you still think that the man will be found who willnot spare his soul for the love of truth?"
Kmita began to tear the hair from his forelock; "Despair! despair!"repeated he, in distraction.
And Pan Shchebjytski continued: "They say also that the remnants of thearmy, which are with Pototski, the hetman, have already refusedobedience and wish to go to the Swedes. The hetman probably is not sureof safety or life among them, and must do what they want."
"They sow rebellion and reap suffering and pain," said the starosta."Whoso wishes to do penance for his sins, now is his time!"
Kmita could not hear further either prophecies or news; he wanted tosit with all speed on his horse and cool his head in the wind. Hesprang up therefore, and began to take farewell of the starosta.
"Rut whither so hastily?" asked the latter.
"To Chenstohova, for I too am a sinner!"
"Though glad to entertain, I will not delay you, since your work ismore urgent, for the day of judgment is at hand."
Kmita went out; and after him went the young lady, wishing instead ofher father to do honor to the guest, for the old man was weak on hisfeet.
"Be in good health, young lady," said Kmita; "you do not know howthankful I am to you."
"If you are thankful to me," answered the young lady, "do me oneservice. You are going to Chenstohova; here is a ruddy ducat,--take it,I beg, and give it for a Mass in the chapel."
"For whose intention?" asked Kmita.
The prophetess dropped her eyes, trouble spread over her face; at thesame time a slight flush came to her cheeks, and she said with a lowvoice, like the rustle of leaves,--
"For the intention of Andrei, that God may turn him from sinful ways."
Kmita pushed back two steps, stared, and from astonishment could notspeak for a time.
"By the wounds of Christ!" cried he, at last, "what manner of house isthis? Where am I? The prophecy itself, the soothsaying, and theindications--Your name is Olenka, and you give me for a Mass for theintentions of a sinful Andrei. This cannot be chance; it is the fingerof God,--it is, it is. I shall go wild!--As God lives, I shall!"
"What is the matter?"
He caught her hands violently and began to shake them. "Prophesyfurther, speak to the end! If that Andrei will return and efface hisfaults, will Olenka keep faith with him? Speak, answer, for I shall notgo away without that!"
"What is your trouble?"
"Will Olenka keep faith with him?" repeated Kmita.
Tears came suddenly into the eyes of the maiden: "To the last breath,to the hour of death!" said she, with sobbing.
She had not finished speaking when Kmita fell his whole length at herfeet. She wanted to flee; he would not let her, and kissing her feet,he said,--
"I too am a sinful Andrei, who wants to return. I too have my lovedone, Olenka. May yours return, and may mine keep faith. May your wordsbe prophetic. You have poured balsam and hope into my sufferingsoul,--God reward you, God reward you!"
Then he sprang up, sat on his horse, and rode away.