Генрик Сенкевич
Pan Michael
CHAPTER LVI
The thunder of cannon shook the castles and the town immediately after the kindya. The Turks had dug a fosse at the side of the castle, five hundred yards long; in one place, at the very wall, they were digging deeply. From that fosse there went against the walls an unceasing fire from janissary muskets. The besieged made screens of leather bags filled with wool; but as long balls and bombs were hurled continually from the intrenchments, bodies fell thickly around the cannon. At one gun a bomb killed six men of Volodyovski's infantry at once; at other guns men were falling continually. Before evening the leaders saw that they could hold out no longer, especially as the mines might be exploded any moment. In the night, therefore, the captains led out their companies, and before morning they had transferred, amid unbroken firing, all the guns, powder, and supplies of provisions to the old castle. That, being built on a rock, could hold out longer, and there was special difficulty in digging under it. Pan Michael, when consulted on this matter at the council, declared that if no one would negotiate, he was ready to defend it a year. His words went to the town, and poured great consolation into hearts, for people knew that the little knight would keep his word even at the cost of his life.
At the evacuation of the new castle, strong mines were put under both bulwarks and the front. These exploded with great noise about noon, but caused no serious loss to the Turks; for, remembering the lesson of the day before, they had not dared yet to occupy the abandoned place. But both bulwarks, the front and the main body of the new castle, formed one gigantic pile of ruins. These ruins rendered difficult, it is true, approach to the old castle; but they gave perfect protection to sharpshooters, and, what is worse, to the miners, who, unterrified at sight of the mighty cliff, began to bore a new mine. Skilful Italian and Hungarian engineers, in the service of the Sultan, were overseers of this work, which advanced rapidly. The besieged could not strike the enemy either from cannon or musket, for they could not see them. Pan Michael was thinking of a sortie, but he could not undertake it immediately; the soldiers were too tired. Blue lumps as large as biscuits had formed on the right shoulders of the dragoons, from bringing gunstocks against them continually. Some could hardly move their arms. It became evident that if boring were continued some time without interruption, the chief gate of the castle would be blown into the air beyond doubt. Foreseeing this, Pan Michael gave command to make a high wall behind the gate, and said, without losing courage, —
"But what do I care? If the gate is blown up, we will defend ourselves behind the wall; if the wall is blown up, we'll have a second one made previously, and so on, as long as we feel an ell of ground under our feet."
"But when the ell is gone, what then?" asked the starosta.
"Then we shall be gone too," said the little knight.
Meanwhile he gave command to hurl hand-grenades at the enemy; these caused much damage. Most effective in this work was Lieutenant Dembinski, who killed Turks without number, until a grenade ignited too soon, burst in his hand, and tore it off. In this manner perished Captain Schmit. Many fell from the Turkish artillery, many from musket-shots fired by janissaries hidden in the ruins of the new castle. During that time they fired rarely from the guns of the castle; this troubled the council not a little. "They are not firing; hence it is evident that Volodyovski himself has doubts of the defence." Such was the general opinion. Of the officers no man dared to say first that it remained only to seek the best conditions, but the bishop, free of military ambition, said this openly; but previously Pan Vasilkovski was sent to the starosta for news from the castle. He answered, "In my opinion the castle cannot hold out till evening, but here they think otherwise."
After reading this answer, even the officers began to say, "We have done what we could. No one has spared himself, but what is impossible cannot be done; it is necessary to think of conditions."
These words reached the town, and brought together a great crowd of people. This multitude stood before the town-hall, alarmed, silent, rather hostile than inclined to negotiations. Some rich Armenian merchants were glad in their hearts that the siege would be ended and trading begin; but other Armenians, long settled in the Commonwealth and greatly inclined to it, as well as Poles and Russians, wished to defend themselves. "Had we wished to surrender, we should have surrendered at first," was whispered here and there; "we could have received much, but now conditions will not be favorable, and it is better to bury ourselves under ruins."
The murmur of discontent became ever louder, till all at once it turned into shouts of enthusiasm and vivats.
What had happened? On the square Pan Michael appeared in company with Pan Humyetski, for the starosta had sent them of purpose to make a report of what had happened in the castle. Enthusiasm seized the crowd. Some shouted as if the Turks had already broken into the town; tears came to the eyes of others at sight of the idolized knight, on whom uncommon exertions were evident. His face was black from powder-smoke, and emaciated, his eyes were red and sunken; but he had a joyous look. When he and Humyetski had made their way at last through the crowd, and entered the council, they were greeted joyously. The bishop spoke at once.
"Beloved brothers," said he, "Nec Hercules contra plures! The starosta has written us already that you must surrender."
To this Humyetski, who was very quick to action and of great family, not caring for people, said sharply: "The starosta has lost his head; but he has this virtue, that he exposes it to danger. As to the defence, let Pan Volodyovski describe it; he is better able to do so."
All eyes were turned to the little knight, who was greatly moved, and said, —
"For God's sake, who speaks of surrender? Have we not sworn to the living God to fall one upon another?"
"We have sworn to do what is in our power, and we have done it," answered the bishop.
"Let each man answer for what he has promised! Ketling and I have sworn not to surrender the castle till death, and we will not surrender; for if I am bound to keep the word of a cavalier to every man, what must I do to God, who surpasses all in majesty?"
"But how is it with the castle? We have heard that there is a mine under the gate. Will you hold out long?" asked numerous voices.
"There is a mine under the gate, or there will be; but there is a good wall behind the gate, and I have given command to put falconets on it. Dear brothers, fear God's wounds; remember that in surrendering you will be forced to surrender churches into the hands of Pagans, who will turn them into mosques, to celebrate foulness in them. How can you speak of surrender with such a light heart? With what conscience do you think of opening before the enemy a gate to the heart of the country? I am in the castle and fear no mines; and you here in the town, far away, are afraid! By the dear God! we will not surrender while we are alive. Let the memory of this defence remain among those who come after us, like the memory of Zbaraj."
"The Turks will turn the castle into a pile of ruins," said some voice.
"Let them turn it. We can defend ourselves from a pile of ruins."
Here patience failed the little knight somewhat. "And I will defend myself from a pile of ruins, so help me God! Finally, I tell you that I will not surrender the castle. Do you hear?"
"'But will you destroy the town?" asked the bishop. "If to go against the Turks is to destroy it, I prefer to destroy it. I have taken my oath; I will not waste more words; I will go back among cannon, for they defend the Commonwealth instead of betraying it."
Then he went out, and after him Humyetski, who slammed the door. Both hastened greatly, for they felt really better among ruins, corpses, and balls than among men of little faith. Pan Makovetski came up with them on the way.
"Michael," said he, "tell the truth, did you speak of resistance only to increase courage, or will you be able really to hold out in the castle?"
The little knight shrugged his shoulders. "As God is dear to me! Let the town not surrender, and I will defend the castle a year."
"Why do you not fire? People are alarmed on that account, and talk of surrender."
"We do not fire, because we are busy with hand-grenades, which have caused considerable harm in the mines."
"Listen, Michael, have you in the castle such defence that you could strike at the Russian gate in the rear? – for if, which God prevent, the Turks break through, they will come to the gate. I am watching with all my force; but with towns-people only, without soldiers, I cannot succeed."
To which the little knight answered: "Fear not, dear brother; I have fifteen cannon turned to that side. Be at rest too concerning the castle. Not only shall we defend ourselves, but when necessary we will give you reinforcement at the gates."
When he heard this, Makovetski was delighted greatly, and wished to go away, when the little knight detained him, and asked further, —
"Tell me, you are oftener at these councils, do they only wish to try us, or do they intend really to give Kamenyets into the hands of the Sultan?"
Makovetski dropped his head. "Michael," said he, "answer truly now, must it not end in that? We shall resist awhile yet, a week, two weeks, a month, two months, but the end will be the same."
Volodyovski looked at him gloomily, then raising his hands cried, —
"And thou too, Brutus, against me? Well, in that case swallow your shame alone; I am not used to such diet."
And they parted with bitterness in their hearts.
The mine under the main gate of the old castle exploded soon after Pan Michael's return. Bricks and stones flew; dust and smoke rose. Terror dominated the hearts of the gunners. For a while the Turks rushed into the breach, as rush sheep through the open gate of a sheepfold, when the shepherd and his assistants urge them in with whips. But Ketling breathed on that crowd with cartridges from six cannon, prepared previously on the wall; he breathed once, a second, a third time, and swept them out of the court. Pan Michael, Humyetski, and Myslishevski hurried up with infantry and dragoons, who covered the walls as quickly as flies on a hot day cover the carcass of a horse or an ox. A struggle began then between muskets and janissary guns. Balls fell on the wall as thickly as falls rain, or kernels of wheat which a strong peasant hurls from his shovel. The Turks were swarming in the ruins of the new castle; in every depression, behind every fragment, behind every stone, in every opening of the ruin, they sat in twos, threes, fives, and tens, and fired without a moment's intermission. From the direction of Hotin came new reinforcements continually. Regiment followed regiment, and crouching down among the ruins began fire immediately. The new castle was as if paved with turbans. At times those masses of turbans sprang up suddenly with a terrible outcry, and ran to the breach; but then Ketling raised his voice, the bass of the cannon drowned the rattle of musketry, and a storm of grapeshot with whistling and terrible rattling confused the crowd, laid them on the ground, and closed up the breach with a quivering mass of human flesh. Four times the janissaries rushed forward; four times Ketling hurled them back and scattered them, as a storm scatters a cloud of leaves. Alone amid fire, smoke, showers of earth-clods, and bursting grenades, he was like an angel of war. His eyes were fixed on the breach, and on his serene forehead not the slightest anxiety was evident. At times he seized the match from the gunner and touched the priming; at times he covered his eyes with his hand and observed the effect of the shot; at times he turned with a smile to the Polish officers and said, —
"They will not enter."
Never was rage of attack repulsed with such fury of defence. Officers and soldiers vied with one another. It seemed that the attention of those men was turned to everything save death; and death cut down thickly. Pan Humyetski fell, and Pan Mokoshytski, commander of the men of Kieff. At last the white-haired Pan Kalushovski seized his own breast with a groan; he was an old friend of Pan Michael, as mild as a lamb, but a soldier as terrible as a lion. Pan Michael caught the falling man, who said, "Give your hand, give your hand quickly!" then he added, "Praise be to God!" and his face grew as white as his beard. That was before the fourth attack. A party of janissaries had come inside the breach, or rather they could not go out by reason of the too thickly flying missiles. Pan Michael sprang on them at the head of his infantry, and they were beaten down in a moment with the butts of muskets.
Hour followed hour; the fire did not weaken. But meanwhile news of the heroic defence was borne through the town, exciting enthusiasm and warlike desire. The Polish inhabitants, especially the young men, began to call on one another, to look at one another, and give mutual encouragement. "Let us go to the castle with assistance! Let us go; let us go! We will not let our brothers perish! Come, boys!" Such voices were heard on the square and at the gates; soon a few hundred men, armed in any fashion, but with daring in their hearts, moved toward the bridge. The Turks turned on the young men a terrible fire, which stretched many dead; but a part passed, and they began to work on the wall against the Turks with great zeal.
This fourth attack was repulsed with fearful loss to the Turks, and it seemed that a moment of rest must come. Vain hope! The rattle of janissary musketry did not cease till evening. Only when the evening kindya was played, did the cannon grow silent, and the Turks leave the ruins of the new castle. The remaining officers went then from the wall to the other side. The little knight, without losing a moment, gave command to close up the breach with whatever materials they could find, – hence with blocks of timber, with fascines, with rubbish, with earth. Infantry, cavalry, dragoons, common soldiers, and officers vied with one another, regardless of rank. It was thought that Turkish guns might renew fire at any moment; but that was a day of great victory for the besieged over the besiegers. The faces of all the besieged were bright; their souls were flaming with hope and desire of further victories.
Ketling and Pan Michael, taking each other by the hands after their labor, went around the square and the walls, bent out through the battlements, to look at the courtyard of the new castle and rejoice at the bountiful harvest.
"Body lies there near body," said the little knight, pointing to the ruins; "and at the breach there are such piles that you would need a ladder to cross them. That is the work of your cannon, Ketling."
"The best thing," answered Ketling, "is that we have repaired that breach; the approach is closed to the Turks, and they must make a new mine. Their power is boundless as the sea, but such a siege for a month or two must become bitter to them."
"By that time the hetman will help us. But come what may, you and I are bound by oath," said the little knight.
At that moment they looked into each other's eyes, and Pan Michael asked in a lower voice, "And have you done what I told you?"
"All is ready," whispered Ketling, in answer; "but I think it will not come to that, for we may hold out very long here, and have many such days as the present."
"God grant us such a morrow!"
"Amen!" answered Ketling, raising his eyes to heaven.
The thunder of cannon interrupted further conversation. Bombs began to fly against the castle again. Many of them burst in the air, however, and went out like summer lightning.
Ketling looked with the eye of a judge. "At that trench over there from which they are firing," said he, "the matches have too much sulphur."
"It is beginning to smoke on other trenches," said Volodyovski.
And, in fact, it was. As, when one dog barks in the middle of a still night, others begin to accompany, and at last the whole village is filled with barking, so one cannon in the Turkish trenches roused all the neighboring guns, and a crown of bombs encircled the besieged place. This time, however, the enemy fired at the town, not the castle; but from three sides was heard the piercing of mines. Though the mighty rock had almost baffled the efforts of miners, it was clear that the Turks had determined at all cost to blow that rocky nest into the air.
At the command of Ketling and Pan Michael, the defenders began to hurl hand-grenades again, guided by the noise of the hammers. But at night it was impossible to know whether that means of defence caused any damage. Besides, all turned their eyes and attention to the town, against which were flying whole flocks of flaming birds. Some missiles burst in the air; but others, describing a fiery circle in the sky, fell on the roofs of houses. At once a reddish conflagration broke the darkness in a number of places. The Church of St. Catherine was burning, also the Church of St. George in the Russian quarter, and soon the Armenian Cathedral was burning; this, however, had been set on fire during the day; it was merely ignited again by the bombs. The fire increased every moment and lighted up all the neighborhood. The outcry from the town reached the old castle. One might suppose that the whole town was burning.
"That is bad," said Ketling, "for courage will fail in the inhabitants."
"Let everything burn," said the little knight; "if only the rock is not crushed from which we may defend ourselves."
Now the outcry increased. From the cathedral the fire spread to the Armenian storehouses of costly merchandise. These were built on the square belonging to that nationality; great wealth was burning there in gold, silver, divans, furs, and rich stuffs. After a while, tongues of fire appeared here and there over the houses.
Pan Michael was disturbed greatly. "Ketling," said he, "look to the hurling of grenades, and injure work in the mines as much as possible. I will hurry to the town, for my heart is suffering for the Dominican nuns. Praise be to God that the Turks leave the castle in quiet, and that I can be absent!"
In the castle there was not, in truth, at that moment much to do; hence the little knight sat on his horse and rode away. He returned only after two hours in company with Pan Mushalski, who after that injury sustained at the hands of Hamdi Bey, recovered, and came now to the fortress, thinking that during storms he might cause notable loss to the Pagans, and gain glory immeasurable.
"Be welcome!" said Ketling. "I was alarmed. How is it with the nuns?"
"All is well," answered the little knight. "Not one bomb has burst there. The place is very quiet and safe."
"Thank God for that! But Krysia is not alarmed?"
"She is as quiet as if at home. She and Basia are in one cell, and Pan Zagloba is with them. Pan Adam, to whom consciousness has returned, is here too. He begged to come with me to the castle; but he is not able to stand long on his feet yet. Ketling, go there now, and I will take your place here."
Ketling embraced Pan Michael, for his heart drew him greatly to Krysia, and gave command to bring his horse at once. But before they brought the horse, he inquired of the little knight what was to be heard in the town.
"The inhabitants are quenching the fire very bravely," answered the little knight; "but when the wealthier Armenian merchants saw their goods burning, they sent deputations to the bishop and insisted on surrender. Hearing of this, I went to the council, though I had promised myself not to go there again. I struck in the face the man who insisted most on surrender: for this the bishop rose in anger against me. The situation is bad, brother; cowardice is seizing people more and more, and our readiness for defence is for them cheaper and cheaper. They give blame and not praise, for they say that we are exposing the place in vain. I heard too that they attacked Makovetski because he opposed negotiations. The bishop himself said to him, 'We are not deserting faith or king; but what can further resistance effect? See,' said he, 'what will be after it, – desecrated shrines, honorable ladies insulted, and innocent children dragged captive. With a treaty,' said he, 'we can assure their fate and obtain free escape.' So spoke the bishop. The starosta nodded and said, 'I would rather perish, but this is true.'"
"The will of God be done!" said Ketling.
But Pan Michael wrung his hands. "And if that were even true," cried he, "but God is witness that we can defend ourselves yet."
Now they brought Ketling's horse. He mounted quickly.
"Carefully through the bridge," said Pan Michael at parting, "for the bombs fall there thickly."
"I will return in an hour," said Ketling; and he rode away.
Pan Michael started to go around the walls with Mushalski. In three places hammering was heard; hence the besieged were throwing hand-grenades from three places. On the left side of the castle Lusnia was directing that work.
"Well, how is it going with you?" inquired Volodyovski.
"Badly, Pan Commandant," said the sergeant: "the pig-bloods are sitting in the cliff, and only sometimes at the entrance does a piece of shell hurt a man. We haven't done much."
In other places the case was still worse, especially as the sky had grown gloomy and rain was falling, from which the wicks in the grenades were growing damp. Darkness too hindered the work.
Pan Michael drew Mushalski aside somewhat, and halting, said on a sudden, "But listen! If we should try to smother those moles in their burrows?"
"That seems to me certain death, for whole regiments of janissaries are guarding them. But let us try!"
"Regiments are guarding them, it is true; but the night is very dark, and confusion seizes them quickly. Just think, they are talking of surrender in the town. Why? Because, they say to us, 'There are mines under you; you are not defending yourselves.' We should close their lips if to-night we could send the news, 'There is no longer a mine!' For such a cause is it worth while to lay down one's head or not?"
Pan Mushalski thought a moment, and cried, "It is worth while! As God lives, it is!"
"In one place they began to hammer not long ago," said Pan Michael; "we will leave those undisturbed, but here and on that side they have dug in very deeply. Take fifty dragoons; I will take the same number; and we will try to smother them. Have you the wish?"
"I have, and it is increasing. I will take spikes in my belt to spike cannon; perhaps on the road I may find some."
"As to finding, I doubt that, though there are some falconets standing near; but take the spikes. We will only wait for Ketling; he knows better than others how to succor in a sudden emergency."
Ketling came as he had promised; he was not behind time one moment. Half an hour later two detachments of dragoons, of fifty men each, went to the breach, slipped out quickly, and vanished in the darkness. Ketling gave command to throw grenades for a short time yet; then he ceased work and waited. His heart was beating unquietly, for he understood well how desperate the undertaking was. A quarter of an hour passed, half an hour, an hour: it seemed that they ought to be there already and to begin; meanwhile, putting his ear to the ground, he heard the quiet hammering perfectly.
Suddenly at the foot of the castle, on the left side, there was a pistol-shot, which in the damp air, in view of the firing from the trenches, did not make a loud report, and might have passed without rousing the attention of the garrison had not a terrible uproar succeeded it. "They are there," thought Ketling; "but will they return?" And then sounded the shouts of men, the roar of drums, the whistle of pipes, – finally the rattle of musketry, hurried and very irregular. The Turks fired from all sides and in throngs; evidently whole divisions had run up to succor the miners. As Pan Michael had foreseen, confusion seized the janissaries, who, fearing to strike one another, shouted loudly, fired at random, and often in the air. The uproar and firing increased every moment. When martens, eager for blood, break into a sleeping hen-house at night, a mighty uproar and cackling rise in the quiet building: confusion like that set in all at once round the castle. The Turks began to hurl bombs at the walls, so as to clear up the darkness. Ketling pointed guns in the direction of the Turkish troops on guard, and answered with grape-shot. The Turkish approaches blazed; the walls blazed. In the town the alarm was beaten, for the people believed universally that the Turks had burst into the fortress. In the trenches the Turks thought that a powerful sortie was attacking all their works simultaneously; and a general alarm spread among them. Night favored the desperate enterprise of Pan Michael and Mushalski, for it had grown very dark. Discharges of cannon and grenades rent only for instants the darkness, which was afterward blacker. Finally, the sluices of heaven opened suddenly, and down rushed torrents of rain. Thunder outsounded the firing, rolled, grumbled, howled, and roused terrible echoes in the cliffs. Ketling sprang from the wall, ran at the head of fifteen or twenty men to the breach, and waited. But he did not wait long. Soon dark figures swarmed in between the timbers with which the opening was barred.
"Who goes there?" cried Ketling.
"Volodyovski," was the answer. And the two knights fell into each other's embrace.
"What! How is it there?" asked the officers, rushing out to the breach.
"Praise be to God! the miners are cut down to the last man; their tools are broken and scattered. Their work is for nothing."
"Praise be to God! Praise be to God!"
"But is Mushalski with his men?"
"He is not here yet."
"We might go to help him. Gracious gentlemen, who is willing?"
But that moment the breach was filled again. Mushalski's men were returning in haste, and decreased in number considerably, for many of them had fallen from bullets. But they returned joyously, for with an equally favorable result. Some of the soldiers had brought back hammers, drills, and pickaxes as a proof that they had been in the mine itself.
"But where is Mushalski?" asked Pan Michael.
"True; where is Pan Mushalski?" repeated a number of voices.
The men under command of the celebrated bowman stared at one another; then a dragoon, who was wounded severely, said, with a weak voice, —
"Pan Mushalski has fallen. I saw him when he fell. I fell at his side; but I rose, and he remained."
The knights were grieved greatly on hearing of the bowman's death, for he was one of the first cavaliers in the armies of the Commonwealth. They asked the dragoon again how it had happened; but he was unable to answer, for blood was flowing from him in a stream, and he fell to the ground like a grain-sheaf.
The knights began to lament for Pan Mushalski.
"His memory will remain in the army," said Pan Kvasibrotski, "and whoever survives the siege will celebrate his name."
"There will not be born another such bowman," said a voice.
"He was stronger in the arm than any man in Hreptyoff," said the little knight. "He could push a thaler with his fingers into a new board. Pan Podbipienta, a Lithuanian, alone surpassed him in strength; but Podbipienta was killed in Zbaraj, and of living men none was so strong in the hands, unless perhaps Pan Adam."
"A great, great loss," said others. "Only in old times were such cavaliers born."
Thus honoring the memory of the bowman, they mounted the wall. Pan Michael sent a courier at once with news to the starosta and the bishop that the mines were destroyed, and the miners cut down by a sortie. This news was received with great astonishment in the town, but – who could expect it? – with secret dislike. The starosta and the bishop were of opinion that those passing triumphs would not save Kamenyets, but only rouse the savage lion still more. They could be useful only in case surrender were agreed on in spite of them; therefore the two leaders determined to continue further negotiations.
But neither Pan Michael nor Ketling admitted even for a moment that the happy news could have such an effect. Nay, they felt certain now that courage would enter the weakest hearts, and that all would be inflamed with desire for a passionate resistance. It was impossible to take the town without taking the castle first; therefore if the castle not merely resisted, but conquered, the besieged had not the least need to negotiate. There was plenty of provisions, also of powder; in view of this it was only needful to watch the gates and quench fires in the town.
During the whole siege this was the night of most joy for Pan Michael and Ketling. Never had they had such great hope that they would come out alive from those Turkish toils, and also bring out those dearest heads in safety.
"A couple of storms more," said the little knight, "and as God is in heaven the Turks will be sick of them, and will prefer to force us with famine. And we have supplies enough here. September is at hand; in two months rains and cold will begin. Those troops are not over-enduring; let them get well chilled once, and they will withdraw."
"Many of them are from Ethiopian countries," said Ketling, "or from various places where pepper grows; and any frost will nip them. We can hold out two months in the worst case, even with storms. It is impossible too to suppose that no succor will come to us. The Commonwealth will return to its senses at last; and even if the hetman should not collect a great force, he will annoy the Turk with attacks."
"Ketling! as it seems to me, our hour has not struck yet."
