suffered, but the Turks are worn out; these men from Asia are half conquered already by the cold. The last twenty-four hours have fought for us. We shall save the republic from shame and vassalage. Soldiers of Poland, fight for your country, and remember that Jesus Christ fights for you!" Sobieski himself had heard three masses since daybreak, the army had been blessed by a priest, and now getting off his horse, sabre in hand, he led his infantry across the trenches. The Turks, who had believed an attack impossible in such weather, alarmed at the triumphant shouts of the Poles, defended themselves but ill; charge after charge of the young Polish cavalry, in full armor, cut to pieces their best troops; they turned to fly, but the bridge of boats had been broken down by Sobieski's orders; twenty thousand men were believed to have fallen in attempting to cross the rapid, half-frozen river; "the water ran with blood and corpses for miles."
In the camp the carnage was frightful; under the axes, the lances and scimitars of their assailants lay thousands of dead bodies, half of them Janissaries and Spahis. The green standard of Hussein, given him by the sultan, was seized, sent to the pope, and still hangs in St. Peter's. The victory was complete; all the Turkish garrisons of the neighboring towns retired, leaving devastation and fire as monuments of their passage; and thanks were given in almost all the churches in Europe for the "most memorable battle gained against the infidel for three hundred years."
The Polish king died the night' before the fight, and, by an act of tardy death-bed repentance, named John Sobieski as one of his executors.
It was now necessary to elect another monarch — a difficult and dangerous operation in Poland, even in the calmest times. The Poles were the only people in Europe who still preserved the ancient usage of a national assembly where the deliberations were carried on by a whole nation in arms. The difficulty of feeding two hundred thousand citizens thus collected together had constantly obliged them to separate without having settled affairs, and on this occasion a Diet, composed of the senate and of members elected by the country, was directed to choose the new chief of the nation. All the princes in Europe who were tired of living on the steps of a throne became candidates. Every species of intrigue was brought to bear upon the electors; the ambassadors of the different powers had each their faction; they gave money; they made great promises; the meanest motives were appealed to, and the most undisguised corruption prevailed. Warsaw became one vast camp for six leagues round, where the whole equestrian order had established itself; an innumerable population of servants, often noble like their masters; almost all the army, Jews merchants, doctors, the creditors of the nobles, the lawyers, had all collected there; the different palatinates were nearly deserted except by the peasants.
The plain of Vola had been chosen for the electoral camp; a great wooden pavilion, the szopa, occupied the centre, where the senate and the great nobles sat, but the deliberations were held in the open air, that the equestrian order might have an eye upon its representatives.
The noise and excitement were tremendous; tournaments and jousts, with javelins and lances; regiments of soldiers, Wallachs, Cossacks, Tartars, crossing and recrossing; innumerable stands of arms; immense tables, round which each faction collected its clients; trains of noble ladies on horseback, the wives of the palatines and senators, distributing exhortations and presents; cavalcades of gentlemen, battle-axe in hand, galloping past; fiery encounters, begun in drunkenness and ending in blood; "scenes of tumult, pleasure, discussion, and war, a true image of Poland herself, filled the plain," observes Salvandy. A vast circle of white tents surrounded the whole space — those belonging to the nobles were built like sham fortresses, castles, towers, or long galleries, containing stables, bath-rooms, kitchens, council-chambers, formed of silk and rich stuffs, often booty taken from the Turk, with a profusion of golden crescents, balls, and ornaments, rivalling each other in expense and savage and inordinate luxury. The magnificence of the dresses was as great; almost all wore Eastern costumes; caftans and robes of brocade and fur, embroidered, or edged and lined with rare furs, and clasped with diamonds; splendid arms, jewelled belts, swords, daggers, and pistols ("many diamonds and little linen," was Madame de Motteville's observation on the Polish nobles a few years before); sixty or seventy thousand gentlemen were there, any one of whom might, by law, be chosen king the next day, and whose demeanor showed their pride in this vain and hurtful privilege. Sobieski himself was absent, but the tents taken from the vizier of Ma-
