Hero Tales and Legends of the Serbians
CHAPTER IX: TSAR LAZARUS AND THE TSARINA MILITZA
The Tsarina's Forebodings
As they sat at supper together one evening the Tsarina Militza spoke thus unto Tsar Lazarus: "O Lazarus, thou Serbian Golden Crown! Thou art to go to-morrow to the battlefield of Kossovo together with thy dukes and servants, but, alas! thou wilt leave in the palace none who can carry to thee my missives and bring thine from Kossovo to me. Thou takest also with thee my nine brothers Yougovitchs; I pray thee, leave me at least one of my brothers that I may swear [51] by him!"
And the tsar returned answer: "O my lady, thou Tsarina Militza! Which one of thy brothers wouldst thou best like me to leave at home." Thereupon the tsaritza said: "Leave me, I pray, Boshko Yougovitch!"
To this the tsar assented: "O my lady, Tsarina Militza! When the morrow dawns and the sun begins to rise and the gates of the fortress are opened, thou mayest walk out to the main gate whence the whole army will defile with the ensigns--all cavaliers with warrior-lances, headed by Boshko Yougovitch, who will be carrying the flag adorned with a golden cross. Greet him in my name and tell him that I give him leave to remain with thee at our white castle and to yield his flag to whomsoever he may choose!"
Accordingly, when the morrow dawned and the sun shone, the fortress-gates opened and Tsarina Militza appeared at the main gate of the city, and lo! the mighty army was preparing to defile with, in the van, the glorious cavaliers headed by Boshko Yougovitch. Boshko was in the act of mounting his brown horse, a splendid creature, caparisoned with golden trappings; the dropping folds of the flag fell upon his shoulders and over his steed's back. Upon the flag pole was fixed a golden apple and from the great cross hung golden thustles which were knocking gently against Boshko's shoulders.
Tsarina Militza approached her brother and flinging her tender arms around his neck addressed him in her sweet voice thus: "O my darling brother, our tsar has presented thee to me, and desires that thou shalt not go to Kossovo in the war. His charge to thee is: that thou shalt give thy flag to whom thou choosest and remain at Kroushevatz that I may have a brother to swear by!"
But Boshko Yougovitch answered: "Go back, O sister dear, to thy white castle! I would not return, neither would I give up from my hands this flag for the price of Kroushevatz. [52] How could I suffer my comrades to say: 'Look at the coward Boshko Yougovitch! He dares not go to Kossovo, to shed his blood in the cause of the Holy Cross and his orthodox faith!'" Saying this he disengaged himself from his sister's embraces and leapt into his saddle.
Lo! there now comes the aged Youg-Bogdan at the head of a line of his seven other sons! The tsarina endeavoured to stop each one in turn, but in vain. Voïn Yougovitch, the eighth brother, was last in the line; he like the rest of his brothers would not listen, and as he passed on, the poor tsarina fell down at the feet of the horses and swooned. The glorious Lazarus saw his loving consort fall, and understanding the cause of her grief, he shed tears. Glancing quickly right and left he beheld Golouban, his trusty servant, and called to him: "O Golouban, my faithful servant! Dismount from thy charger, and take the tsarina gently in thy heroic arms to her slender tower. God and I will hold thee excused from service in the war, do thou remain at our white castle near the tsarina!"
Hearing this Golouban turned pale, and tears poured down his cheeks as he dismounted from his Laboud. [53] He took the tsarina in his arms and carried her into her slender high tower as the tsar had commanded; but this done he could not resist the desire of his heart to go to Kossovo, so he hurried back to his charger and spurred him swiftly on after his comrades.
News of Battle
Next day, when morning dawned, lo! two ill-omened ravens from the battlefield of Kossovo alighted upon the white tower of the glorious Tsar Lazarus. One spake to the other: "Is this the home of the famed prince, Lazarus? Is there no living soul in the castle?"
One only within the castle heard this. Tsarina Militza walked out upon the balcony of her tower and besought the two black ravens thus: "For the sake of all that ye hold dear, O ye two dark ravens! Whence do ye come? Do ye not fly from the field of Kossovo? Saw ye there two mighty armies? O tell me! Have they met together? Which of them is victorious?"
Thereupon the two ravens answered: "Evil overtake us if we do not speak truth to thee, O fair empress Militza! We fly indeed from the level plain of Kossovo! Yea! There we did see two mighty armies; there did we see two tsars perish! [54] Of the Turkish horde but few remain in life; of the Serbs, those who live are covered with wounds and blood!"
The Trusty Miloutin
The ravens had hardly spoken when the tsarina perceived a horseman approaching whom she recognized. His left arm hung helpless; he was covered with seventeen wounds; blood ran over his steed. The tsarina called to him in accents of terror: "Alas, alas! Is it thou, my trusty Miloutin? Hast thou then betrayed thy tsar on Kossovo the level field?"
But Miloutin answered slowly and with pain: "Help me, O my lady, to alight from my brave steed! Bathe my face with cooling water and refresh me with rosy wine, for heavy wounds have overwhelmed me!"
And the tsarina went to him and helped him to dismount from his bloody steed, bathed his face with some cooling water and brought wine unto his dried lips. When she had thus restored him somewhat, she spake again: "What dreadful thing has happened, O thou trusty servant, in Kossovo that level field? Where perished the glorious Prince Lazarus? Where perished the aged Youg Bogdan? Where perished the nine Yougovitchs? Where perished Voïvode Milosh? Where perished Vouk Brankovitch? Where perished Ban Strahinya?"
Thereat the warrior groaned heavily: "All remain on Kossovo, O my lady! Where the glorious Prince Lazarus perished, there were broken many, many lances, both Turkish and Serbian, but more Serbian than Turkish: defending, O my lady, their beloved lord, their lord the glorious Prince Lazarus. And thy father, O lady, perished in the first onset. Thy nine brothers perished too--faithful did they abide to one another. Till all perished, there mightest thou have seen the valiant Boshko, his flag fluttering in the breeze as he rushed hither and thither, scattering the Turks like a falcon amongst timid doves. There, by the streamlet Sitnitza, where blood was running above a hero's knees, perished Ban Strahinya.
"But our heroes did not die alone! Twelve thousand Turks lie prone upon the plain. Sultan Mourat [55] was slain by Voïvode Milosh. May God forgive all his sins! The hero has bequeathed to the Serbian race a memory of noble deeds that shall be recounted by the bards as long as men live and Kossovo stays. As for the traitor Vouk, accursed be she who gave him birth! He betrayed our tsar on Kossovo, leading astray, O my lady! twelve thousand fierce cuirassiers of our people! Accursed for ever be his progeny!"
Historical Note
The bards invariably throw all responsibility for the great calamity to the Serbian arms, inflicted upon them in that celebrated battle on Kossovo, upon Vouk Brankovitch, who was one of the sons-in-law of Tsar Lazarus. Some of our historians are convinced that there is a great deal of truth in this licencia poetica, and they point to the fact that the mediæval history of Serbia contains many instances of such malcontents as Vouk Brankovitch who, seduced by fair promises from cunning Turkish statesmen, went to Stamboul to become useful tools in the hands of Ottoman generals, who were thereby aided in their conquests of the Slavs of the Balkans. But the truth is that our calamity was due mainly to the disobedience of the Serbian Lords who ruled almost independently over Bosnia and Herzegovina. These lords failed to comply with Tsar Lazarus' mobilisation proclamation, and it was due to this that the Serbian army was considerably smaller than the Turkish.
Be this as it may, the defeat which the Serbians sustained in that memorable battle left a very deep impression upon the nation, and Serbians have believed ever since that it was solely due to this disaster that the Serbian empire was crushed by the Turk. This feeling persisted in the hearts of the oppressed Serbians through four centuries and was manifested in repeated insurrections against their oppressors in the beginning of the last century under the leadership of two Serbian princes, George Petrovitch, grandfather of the present King Peter I Karageorgevitch, in the year 1804, and Milosh Obrenovitch in 1815. But another century had to pass ere the opportunity came for a decisive battle by which satisfaction could be obtained for the battle on Kossovo. This opportunity offered on the famous field of Koumanovo in 1913, where perished more Turks than did Serbians five centuries ago. Only then was Serbia happy! The present writer went through the Balkan Campaigns of 1912-1913, and was a witness of glorious deeds and feats of arms by his countrymen which, relatively speaking, by no means yield to those of their mediæval ancestors led by Milosh Obilitch, Marko Kralyevitch, Ban Strahinya, and others. It was an imposing sight when the victorious Serbian army returned to Belgrade at the conclusion of the war. The soldiers entered through numberless triumphal gates, over some of which were huge inscriptions: "For Kossovo: Koumanovo" and "For Slivnitza: Bregalnitza."
The untiring Serbian bards have now turned their attention to the exploits of modern heroes at Monastir, Koumanovo, Perlep (Prilip), Scutari (Skadar), &c., and they will thus immortalize for the delight of future generations the final triumph of the Serb over the oppressor of his race, from whom he has wrested the empire of his valiant ancestors--if not in its entirety as under the rule of Tsar Doushan the Powerful, yet as it was in extent in the time of Tsar Lazarus.
What Tsar Lazarus lost, therefore, has now been virtually regained by his brave countrymen under the wise leadership of our present King Peter I.