Chapter 40

DMITRI, VASSALI, AND THE MOGOL TAMERLANE.

From 1380 to 1462.

Recovery of Dmitri.--New Tartar invasion.--The Assault and Capture of Moscow.--New Subjugation of the Russians.--Lithuania Embraces Christianity.--Escape of Vassali From the Horde.--Death of Dmitri.--Tamerlane--His Origin and Career.--His Invasion of India.--Defeat of Bajazet.--Tamerlane Invades Russia.--Preparations for Resistance.--Sudden Retreat of the Tartars.--Death of Vassali.--Accession of Vassali Vassilievitch.--The Disputed Succession.--Appeal to the Khan.--Rebellion of Youri.--Cruelty of Vassali.--The Retribution.

"Where is my brother?" exclaimed Vladimir; "where is he to whom we are indebted for all this glory?" No one could give any information respecting Dmitri. In the tumult he had disappeared. Sadly the chieftains dispersed over the plain to search for him among the dead. After a long exploration, two soldiers found him in the midst of a heap of the slain. Stunned by a blow, he had fallen from his horse, and was apparently lifeless. As with filial love they hung over his remains, bathing his bloody brow, he opened his eyes. Gradually he recovered consciousness; and as he saw the indications of triumph in the faces of his friends, heard the words of assurance that he had gained the victory, and witnessed the Russian banners all over the field, floating above the dead bodies of the Tartars, in a transport of joy he folded his hands upon his breast, closed his eyes and breathed forth a fervent, grateful prayer to God. The princes stood silently and reverently by, as their sovereign thus returned thanks to Heaven.

Joy operated so effectually as a stimulus, that the prince, who had been stunned, but not seriously wounded, mounted his horse and rode over the hard-fought field. Though thousands of the Russians were silent in death, the prince could count more than four times as many dead bodies of the enemy. According to the annals of the time, a hundred thousand Tartars were slain on that day. Couriers were immediately dispatched to all the principalities with the joyful tidings. The anxiety had been so great, that, from the moment the army passed the Don, the churches had been thronged by day and by night, and incessant prayers had ascended to heaven for its success. _No_ language can describe the enthusiasm which the glad tidings inspired. It was felt that henceforth the prosperity, the glory, the independence of Russia was secured for ever; that the supremacy of the horde was annihilated; that the blood of the Christians, shed upon the plain of Koulikof, was the last sacrifice Russia was doomed to make.

But in these anticipations, Russia was destined to be sadly disappointed. Mamai, the discomfited Tartar chieftain, overwhelmed with shame and rage, reached, with the wreck of his army, one of the great encampments of the Tartars on the banks of the Volga. A new khan, the world-renowned Tamerlane, now swayed the scepter of Tartar power. Two years were devoted to immense preparations for the new invasion of Russia. Suddenly and unexpectedly, Dmitri was informed that the Tartars were approaching in strength unprecedented. Russia was unprepared for the attack, and terror congealed all hearts. The invaders, crossing the Volga and the Oka, pressed rapidly towards Moscow.

Dmitri, deeming it in vain to attempt the defense of the capital, fled, with his wife and children, two hundred miles north, to the fortress of Kostroma. A young prince, Ostei, was left in command of the city, with orders to hold it to the last extremity against the Tartars, and with the assurance that the king would return, as speedily as possible, with an army from Kostroma to his relief. The panic in the city was fearful, and the gates were crowded, day and night, by the women and children, the infirm and the timid seeking safety in flight. Ostei made the most vigorous preparations for defense, while the king, with untiring energy, was accumulating an army of relief. The merchants and laborers from the neighboring villages, and even the monks and priests crowded to Moscow, demanding arms for the defense of the metropolis. From the battlements of the city, the advance of the barbarians could be traced by the volumes of smoke which arose, as from a furnace, through the day, and by the flames which flashed along the horizon, from the burning cities and villages, through the night.

On the evening of the 23d of August, 1382, the Tartars appeared before the gates of the city. Some of the chiefs rode slowly around the ramparts, examining the ditch, the walls, the height of the towers, and selected the most favorable spot for commencing the assault. The Tartars did not appear in such overwhelming numbers as report had taught the Russians to expect, and they felt quite sanguine that they should be able to defend the city. But the ensuing morning dispelled all these hopes. It then appeared that these Tartars were but the advance guard of the great army. With the earliest dawn, as far as the eye could reach, the inundation of warriors came rolling on, and terror vanquished all hearts. This army was under the command of a Tartar chieftain called Toktamonish. The assault was instantly commenced, and continued without cessation four days and nights.

At length the city fell, vanquished, it is said, by stratagem rather than by force. The Tartars clambering, by means of ten thousand ladders, over the walls, and rushing through the gates, with no ear for mercy, commenced the slaughter of the inhabitants. The city was set on fire in all directions, and a scene of horror ensued indescribable and unimaginable. The barbarians, laden with booty, and satiated with blood and carnage, encamped on the plain outside of the walls, exulting in the entireness of their vengeance. Moscow, the gorgeous capital, was no more. The dwellings of the city became but the funeral pyre for the bodies of the inhabitants. The Tartars, intoxicated with blood, dispersed over the whole principality; and all its populous cities, Vladimir, Zvenigorod, Yourief, Mojaisk and Dmitrof, experienced the same fate with that of Moscow. The khan then retired, crossing the Oka at Kolomna.

Dmitri arrived with his army at Moscow, only to behold the ruins. The enemy had already disappeared. In profoundest affliction, he gave orders for the interment of the charred and blackened bodies of the dead. Eighty thousand, by count, were interred, which number did not include the many who had been consumed entirely by the conflagration. The walls of the city and the towers of the Kremlin still remained. With great energy, the prince devoted himself to the rebuilding and the repeopling of the capital; many years, however, passed away ere it regained even the shadow of its former splendor.

Thus again Russia, brought under the sway of the Tartars, was compelled to pay tribute, and Dmitri was forced to send his own son to the horde, where he was long detained as a hostage. The grand duchy of Lithuania, bordering on Poland, was spread over a region of sixty thousand square miles. The grand duke, Jaghellon, a burly pagan, had married Hedwige, Queen of Poland, promising, as one of the conditions of this marriage which would unite Lithuania and Poland, to embrace Christianity.[3] He was married and baptized at Cracow, receiving the Christian name of Ladislaus. He then ordered the adoption of Christianity throughout Lithuania, and the universal baptism of his subjects. In order to facilitate the baptism of over a million at once, the inhabitants were collected at several central points. They were arranged in vast groups, and were sprinkled with water which had been blessed by the priests. As the formula of baptism was pronounced, to one entire group the name of Peter was given, to another the name of Paul, to another that of John. These converts were received, not into the Greek church, which was dominant-in Russia, but to the Romish church, which prevailed in Poland. Jaghellon became immediately the inveterate foe of the Russians, whom he called heretics, for new proselytes are almost invariably inspired with fanatic zeal, and he forbade the marriage of any of his Catholic subjects with members of the Russian church. This event caused great grief to Dmitri, for he had relied upon the coöperation of the warlike Lithuanians to aid him to repel the Mogols.

[Footnote 3: For an account of the romantic circumstances attending this marriage, see _Empire of Austria_, pp. 53 and 54.]

Affairs were in this condition when Vassali, the son of Dmitri, escaped from the horde after a three years' captivity, and, traversing Poland and Lithuania, arrived safely at Moscow. Dmitri was now forty years of age. He was a man of colossal stature, and of vigorous health. His hair and beard were black as the raven's wing, and his ruddy cheek and piercing eye seemed to give promise of a long life. But suddenly he was seized with a fatal disease, and it was soon evident that death was near. The intellect of the dying prince was unclouded, and, with much fortitude, in a long interview, he bade adieu to his wife and his children. He designated his son Vassali, then but seventeen years of age, as his successor, and then, after offering a touching prayer, folded his hands across his breast, in the form of a cross, and died without a struggle. The grief of the Russians was profound and universal. For ages they had not known a prince so illustrious or so devoted to the welfare of his country.

The young Vassali had been but a few years on the throne when Tamerlane himself advanced with countless hordes from the far Orient, crushing down all opposition, and sweeping over prostrate nations like the pestilence which had preceded him, and whose track he followed. Tamerlane was the son of a petty Mogol prince. He was born in a season of anarchy, and when the whole Tartar horde was distracted with civil dissensions. The impetuous young man had hardly begun to think, ere he had formed the resolve to attain the supremacy over all the Mogol tribes, to conquer the whole known world, and thus to render himself immortal in the annals of glory. Behind a curtain of mountains, and protected by vast deserts, his persuasive genius collected a large band of followers, who with enthusiasm adopted his views and hailed him their chief.

After inuring them to fatigue, and drilling them thoroughly in the exercises of battle, he commenced his career. The most signal victory followed his steps, and he soon acquired the title of hero. Ambitious, war-loving, thousands crowded to his standards, and he had but just attained the age of thirty-five when he was the undisputed monarch of all the Mogol tribes, and the whole Asiatic world trembled at the mention of his name. He took his seat proudly upon the throne of Genghis Khan, a crown of gold was placed upon his brow, a royal girdle encircled his waist, and in accordance with oriental usage his robes glittered with jewels and gold. At his feet were his renowned chieftains, kneeling around his throne in homage. Tamerlane then took an oath, that by his future exploits he would justify the title he had already acquired, and that all the kings of the earth should yet lie prostrate before him.

And now commenced an incessant series of wars, and victory ever crowned the banners of Tamerlane. He was soon in possession of all the countries on the eastern shores of the Caspian Sea. He then entered Persia, and conquered the whole realm between the Oxus and the Tigris. Bagdad, until now the proud capital of the caliphs, submitted to his sway. Soon the whole region of Asia, from the Sea of Aral to the Persian Gulf, and from Teflis to the great Arabian desert, recognized the empire of Tamerlane. The conqueror then assembled his companions in arms, and thus addressed them:

"Friends and fellow-soldiers; fortune, who recognizes me as her child, invites us to new conquests. The universe trembles at my name, and the movement even of one of my fingers causes the earth to quake. The realms of India are open to us. Woe to those who oppose my will. I will annihilate them unless they acknowledge me as their lord."

With flying banners and pealing trumpets he crossed the Indus, and marched upon Delhi, which for three centuries had been governed by the Mohammedan sultans. _No_ opposition could retard the sweep of his locust legions; and the renowned city at once passed into his hands. Indulging in no delay, the order was still _onwards_, and the hosts soon bathed their dusty limbs in the waves of the Ganges. Here he was informed that Bajazet, the Grand Seignior of Turkey, was on a career of conquest which rivaled his own; that he had overrun all of Asia Minor; that, crossing the Hellespont, he had subjugated Serbia, Macedonia, Thessaly, and that he was even besieging the imperial city of Constantine. The jealousy of Tamerlane was thoroughly aroused. He instantly turned upon his steps to seek this foe, worthy of his arms, dispatching to him the following defiant message:

"Learn," wrote Tamerlane to Bajazet, "that the earth is covered with my warriors from sea-to sea. Kings compose my body guard, and range themselves as servants before my tent. Are you ignorant that the destiny of the universe is in my hands? Who are you? A Turkoman ant. And dare you raise your head against an elephant? If in the forests of Natolia you have obtained some trivial successes; if the timid Europeans have fled like cowards before you, return thanks to Mohammed for your success, for it is not owing to your own valor. Listen to the counsels of wisdom. Be content with the heritage of your fathers, and, however small that heritage may be, beware how you attempt, in the slightest degree, to extend its limits, lest death be the penalty of your temerity."

To this insolent letter, Bajazet responded in terms equally defiant.

"For a long time," he wrote, "Bajazet has burned with the desire to measure himself with Tamerlane, and he returns thanks to the All-powerful that Tamerlane now comes himself, to present his head to the cimeter of Bajazet."

The two conquerors gathered all their resources for the great and decisive battle. Tamerlane speedily reached Aleppo, which city, after a bloody conflict, he entered in triumph. The Tartar chieftain was an impostor and a hypocrite, as well as a merciless butcher of his fellow-men. He assembled the learned men of Aleppo, and assured them in most eloquent terms that he was the devoted friend of God, and that the enemies who resisted his will were responsible to God for all the evils their obstinacy rendered it necessary for him to inflict. Before every conflict he fell upon his knees in the presence of the army in prayer. After every victory, he assembled his troops to return thanks to God. There are some sad accounts to be settled at the judgment day. In marching from Aleppo to Damascus, Tamerlane visited ostentatiously the pretended tomb of Noah, that upon the shrine of that patriarch, so profoundly venerated by the Mohammedans, he might display his devotion.

Damascus was pillaged of all its treasures, which had been accumulating for ages, and was then laid in ashes. The two armies, headed by their respective chieftains, met in Galacia, near Ancyra. It was the 16th of June, 1402. The storm of war raged for a few hours, and the army of Bajazet was cut to pieces by superior numbers, and he himself was taken captive. Tamerlane treated his prisoner with the most condescending kindness, seated him by his side upon the imperial couch, and endeavored to solace him by philosophical disquisitions upon the mutability of all human affairs. The annals of the day do not sustain the rumor that Bajazet was confined in an iron cage.

The empire of Tamerlane now extended from the Caspian and the Mediterranean to the Nile and the Ganges. He established his capital at Samarcand, some six hundred miles east of the Caspian Sea. To this central capital he returned after each of his expeditions, devoting immense treasures to the erection of mosques, the construction of gardens, the excavation of canals and the erection of cities. And now, in the pride and plenitude of his power, he commenced his march upon Russia.

His army, four hundred thousand strong, defiled from the gates of Samarcand, and marching to the north, between the Aral and the Caspian Seas, traversed vast plains, where thousands of wild cattle had long enjoyed undisturbed pasturage. These cattle afforded them abundant food. The chase, in which they engaged on a magnificent scale, offered a very brilliant spectacle. Thousands of horsemen spread out in an immense circle, making the tent of the emperor the central point. With trumpet blasts, the clash of arms and clouds of javelins and arrows, the cattle and wild beasts of every kind were driven in upon the imperial tent, where Tamerlane and his lords amused themselves with their destruction. The soldiers gathered around the food thus abundantly supplied, innumerable fires were built, and feasting and mirth closed the day. Vast herds of cattle were driven along for the ordinary supply of the troops, affording all the nourishment which those rude barbarians required. Pressing forward, in a long march, which occupied several months, Tamerlane crossed the Volga, and entered the south-eastern principalities of Russia. The tidings of the invasion spread rapidly, and all Russia was paralyzed with terror. The grand prince, Vassali, however, strove with all his energies to rouse the Russians to resistance. An army was speedily collected, and veteran leaders placed in command. The Russian troops were rapidly concentrated near Kolomna, on the banks of the Oka, to dispute the passage of the river. All the churches of Moscow and of Russia were thronged with the terrified inhabitants imploring divine aid, the clergy conducting the devotions by day and by night.

Tamerlane, crossing from the Volga to the Don, ascended the valley of the latter stream, spreading the most cruel devastation everywhere around him. It was his design to confound his enemies with terror. He was pressing on resistlessly towards Moscow, and had arrived within a few days' march of the Russian army on the banks of the Oka, when suddenly he stopped, and remained fifteen days without moving from his encampment. Then, for some cause, which history has never satisfactory explained, he turned, retraced his steps, and his banners soon disappeared beyond the frontiers of the empire. It was early in September when he commenced this retrograde march. Some have surmised that he feared the Russians, strongly posted on the banks of the Oka, others that he dreaded the approaching Russian winter; others that intelligence of some conspiracy in his distant realms arrested his steps, and others that God, in answer to prayer, directly interposed, and rescued Russia from ruin.

The joy of the Russians was almost delirious; and no one thought even of pursuing a foe, who without arriving within sight of the banners of the grand prince, or without hearing the sound of his war trumpets, had fled as in a panic.

The whole of the remaining reign of Vassali was a scene of tumult and strife. Civil war agitated the principalities. The Lithuanians, united with Poland, were incessant in their endeavors to extend the triumph of their arms over the Russian provinces; and the Tartar hordes again swept Russia with the most horrible devastation. In the midst of calamities and lamentations, Vassali approached his grave. He died on the 29th of February, 1425, in the fifty-third year of his age, and the thirty-sixth of his reign.

Vassali Vassalievitch, son of the deceased monarch, was but ten years of age when the scepter of Russia passed into his hands. Youri, the eldest brother of the late king, demanded the throne in accordance with the ancient custom of descent, and denied the right of his brother to bequeath the crown to his son. After much trouble, both of the rival claimants consented to submit the question to the decision of the Tartar khan, to whom it appears that Russia still paid tribute. Vassali was to remain upon the throne until the question was decided. Six years passed away, and yet no answer to the appeal had been obtained from the khan. At length both agreed to visit the horde in person. It was a perilous movement, and Vassali, as yet but a boy sixteen years of age, wept bitterly as he left the church, where he had implored the prayers of the faithful, and set out upon his journey. All the powers of bribery and intrigue were employed by each party to obtain a favorable verdict.

A tribunal was appointed to adjudge the cause, over which Machmet, the khan, presided. Vassali claimed the dominion, on the ground of the new rule of descent adopted by the Russian princes. Youri pleaded the ancient custom of the empire. The power which the Tartar horde still exercised, may be inferred from the humiliating speech which Jean, a noble of Moscow, made on this occasion, in advocacy of the cause of the young Vassali. Approaching Machmet, and bowing profoundly before him, he said,

"Sovereign king, your humble slave conjures you to permit him to speak in behalf of his young prince. Youri founds his claim upon the ancient institutions of Russia. Vassali appeals only to your generous protection, for he knows that Russia is but one of the provinces of your vast domains. You, as its sovereign, can dispose of the throne according to your pleasure. Condescend to reflect that the uncle _demands_, the nephew _supplicates_. What signify ancient or modern customs when all depends upon your royal will? Is it not that august will which has confirmed the testament of Vassali Dmitrievitch, by which his son was nominated as heir of the principality of Moscow? For six years, Vassali Vassilievitch has been upon the throne. Would you have allowed him thus to remain there had you not recognized him as the legitimate prince?"

This base flattery accomplished its object. Vassali was pronounced grand prince, and, in accordance with Tartar custom, the uncle was compelled to hold the bridle while his successful rival, at the door of the tent, mounted his horse. On their return to Moscow, Vassali was crowned, with great pomp, in the church of Notre Dame. Youri, while at the horde, dared not manifest the slightest opposition to the decision, but, having returned to his own country, he murmured loudly, rallied his friends, excited disaffection, and soon kindled the flames of civil war.

Youri soon marched, with an army, upon Moscow, took the city by storm, and Vassali, who had displayed but little energy of character, was made captive. Youri proclaimed himself grand prince, and Vassali in vain endeavored to move the compassion of his captor by tears. The uncle, however, so far had pity for his vanquished nephew as to appoint him to the governorship of the city of Kolomna. This seemed perfectly to satisfy the pusillanimous young man, and, after partaking of a splendid feast with his uncle, he departed, rejoicing, from the capital where he had been enthroned, to the provincial city assigned to him.

A curious result ensued. Youri brought to Moscow his own friends, who were placed in the posts of honor and authority. Such general discontent was excited, that the citizens, in crowds, abandoned Moscow and repaired to Kolomna, and rallied, with the utmost enthusiasm, around their ejected sovereign. The dwellings and the streets of Moscow became silent and deserted. Kolomna, on the contrary, was thronged. To use the expression of a Russian annalist, the people gathered around their prince as bees cluster around their queen. The tidings of the life, activity and thriving business to be found at Kolomna, lured ever-increasing numbers, and, in a few months, grass was growing in the streets of Moscow, while Kolomna had become the thronged metropolis of the principality. The nobles, with their armies, gathered around Vassali, and Youri was so thoroughly abandoned, that, convinced of the impossibility of maintaining his position, he sent word to his nephew that he yielded to him the capital, and immediately left for his native principality of Galitch.

The journey of Vassali, from Kolomna to Moscow, a distance of two hundred miles, was a brilliant triumph. An immense crowd accompanied the grand prince the whole distance, raising incessant shouts of joy. But Youri was by no means prepared to relinquish his claim, and soon the armies of the two rivals were struggling upon the field of battle. While the conflict was raging, Youri suddenly died at the age of sixty years. One of the sons of Youri made an attempt to regain the throne which his father had lost, but he failed in the attempt, and was taken captive. Vassali, as cruel as he was pusillanimous, in vengeance, plucked out the eyes of his cousin. Vassali, now seated peacefully upon his throne, exerted himself to keep on friendly relations with the horde, by being prompt in the payment of the tribute which they exacted.

In June, 1444, the Tartars, having taken some offense, again invaded Russia. Vassali had no force of character to resist them. Under his weak reign the grand principality had lost all its vigor. The Tartars surprised the Russian army near Moscow, and overwhelming them with numbers, two to one, trampled them beneath their horses. Vassali fought fiercely, as sometimes even the most timid will fight when hedged in by despair. An arrow pierced his hand; a saber stroke cut off several of his fingers; a javelin pierced his shoulder; thirteen wounds covered his head and breast, when by the blow of a battle-ax he was struck to the ground and taken prisoner. The Tartars, elated with their signal victory, and fearful that all Russia might rise for the rescue of its prince, retreated rapidly, carrying with them their captive and immense booty. As they retired they plundered and burned every city and village on their way. After a captivity of three months the prince was released, upon paying a moderate ransom, and returned to Moscow.

Still new sorrows awaited the prince. He was doomed to experience that, even in this world, Providence often rewards a man according to his deeds. The brothers of the prince, whose eyes Vassali had caused to be plucked out, formed a conspiracy against him; and they were encouraged in this conspiracy by the detestation with which the grand prince was now generally regarded.

During the night of the 12th of February, 1446, the conspirators entered the Kremlin. Vassali, who attempted to compensate for his neglect of true religion by punctilious and ostentatious observance of ecclesiastical rites, was in the church of the Trinity attending a midnight mass. Silently the conspirators surrounded the church with their troops. Vassali was prostrate upon the tomb of a Russian saint, apparently absorbed in devotion. Soon the alarm was given, and the prince, in a paroxysm of terror, threw himself upon his knees, and for once, at least, in his life, prayed with sincerity and fervor. His pathetic cries to God for help caused many of the nobles around him to weep. The prince was immediately seized, no opposition being offered, and was confined in one of the palaces of Moscow. Four nights after his capture, some agents of the conspirators entered his apartment and tore out his eyes, as he had torn out the eyes of his cousin. He was then sent, with his wife, to a castle in a distant city, and his children were immured in a convent. Dmitri Chemyaka, the prime mover of this conspiracy, now assumed the reins of government. Gradually the grand principality had lost its power over the other principalities of the empire, and Russia was again, virtually, a conglomeration of independent states.

Public opinion now turned so sternly against Chemyaka, and such bitter murmurs rose around his throne for the cruelty he had practiced upon Vassali, that he felt constrained to liberate the prince, and to assign him a residence of splendor upon the shores of lake Kouben. Chemyaka, thus constrained to set the body of his captive free, wished to enchain his soul by the most solemn oaths. With all his court he visited Vassali. The blinded prince, with characteristic duplicity, expressed heartfelt penitence in view of his past course, and took the most solemn oaths never to attempt to disturb the reign of his conqueror.

Vassali received the city of Vologda in appanage, to which he retired, with his family, and with the nobles and bishops who still adhered to him. But a few months had passed ere he, with his friends, had enlisted the coöperation of many princes, and especially of the Tartar horde, and was on the march with a strong army to drive Chemyaka from Moscow. Chemyaka, utterly discomfited, fled, and Moscow fell easily into the hands of Vassali the blind.

Anguish of body and of soul seems now to have changed the nature of Vassali, and with energy, disinterestedness and wisdom undeveloped before, he consecrated himself to the welfare of his country. He associated with himself his young son Ivan, who subsequently attained the title of the Great. "But Chemyaka," writes Karamsin, "still lived, and his heart, ferocious, implacable, sought new means of vengeance. His death seemed necessary for the safety of the state, and some one gave him poison, of which he died the next day. The author, of an action so contrary to religion, to the principles of morality and of honor, remains unknown. A lawyer, named Beda, who conveyed the news of his death to Moscow, was elevated to the rank of secretary by the grand prince, who exhibited on that occasion an indiscreet joy." On the 14th of March, 1462, Vassali terminated his eventful and tumultuous life, at the age of forty-seven. His reign was during one of the darkest periods in the Russian annals. Life to him, and to his cotemporaries, was but a pitiless tempest, through which hardly one ray of sunshine penetrated. It was under his reign that the horrible punishment of the _knout_ was introduced into Moscow, a barbaric mode of scourging unknown to the ancient Russians. Fire-arms were also beginning to be introduced, which weapons have diminished rather than increased the carnage of fields of battle.