The Knights of the Cross/Volume 1/Chapter 3

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

CHAPTER III.

Princess Anna Danuta, Matsko, and Zbyshko, had been in Tynets before, but in the retinue were courtiers who saw it for the first time, and these, when they raised their eyes, looked with astonishment on the magnificent abbey, on the indented walls running along cliffs above precipices, on edifices standing now on the slopes of the mountain, now within battlements piled up, lofty, and shining in gold from the rising sun. By these noble walls, edifices, houses, and buildings destined for various uses, and the gardens lying at the foot of the mountain, and carefully cultivated fields which the eye took in from above, it was possible at the first glance to recognize ancient inexhaustible wealth, to which people from poor Mazovia were not accustomed, and at which they must unavoidably be astonished. There existed, it is true, old and wealthy Benedictine monasteries in other parts of the kingdom, as, for example, in Lubush on the Odra, in Plotsk, in Great Poland, in Mogilno, and other places, but none could compare with Tynets, whose possessions exceeded not only dependent principalities, but whose incomes might rouse envy even in kings at that period.

Among the courtiers, therefore, astonishment increased, and some of them were almost unwilling to believe their own eyes. Meanwhile the princess, wishing to shorten the road for herself, and rouse the curiosity of her attendant damsels, fell to begging one of the monks to relate the old and terrible tale of Valger the Charming, which had been told her in Cracow, though not with much detail.

Hearing this, the damsels gathered in a close flock around the lady and walked up the mountain-side slowly in the early rays of the sun, looking like a troop of moving flowers.

"Let the tale of Valger be told by Brother Hidulf, to whom he appeared on a certain night," said one monk, looking at another, a man of gray years already, who with a body somewhat bent walked at the side of Pan Mikolai.

"Have you seen him with your own eyes, pious father?" asked the princess

"I have seen him," replied the monk, gloomily; "for times are granted when God's will permits him to leave his hellish underground dwelling and show himself in the light."

"When does this happen?"

The monk glanced at the other two and was silent, for there was a tradition that Valger's ghost was to appear when the morals of the Knights of the Cross should become lax and the monks think more than was proper of worldly pleasures and wealth. No one wished to confess aloud that it was said also that the ghost foretold war or other misfortunes; so Brother Hidulf, after a moment's silence, said,—

"His ghost heralds nothing good."

"I should not like to see him," said the princess, making the sign of the cross on herself; "but why is he in hell?—since, as I hear, he only avenged too severely a personal wrong."

"Though during his whole life he had been virtuous," answered the monk, sternly, "he would have been damned in every case, for he lived during pagan times, and was not cleansed by holy baptism."

At these words the brows of the princess contracted with pain, for she remembered that her mighty father, whom she had loved with her whole soul, had died also in pagan error, and must burn through all eternity.

"We are listening," said she after a moment of silence.

Brother Hidulf began his narrative,—

"There lived in pagan times a wealthy count, who because of great beauty was called Valger the Charming. This country, as far as the eye sees, belonged to him, and on expeditions, besides footmen he led forth a hundred spearmen, for all nobles on the west to Opole and on the east to Sandomir were his vassals. No man could count his cattle, and in Tynets he had a fortress filled with coin, just as the Knights of the Cross have in Malborg at present."

"I know they have!" interrupted Princess Anna.

"And he was like a giant," continued the monk,—"he tore up oak trees by the roots; and in beauty, in playing on the lute, and in singing, no man on earth could compare with him. But once, when he was at the court of the King of France, the king's daughter, Helgunda, fell in love with him. Her father had wished to give her to a convent for the glory of God, but she fled with Valger to Tynets, where they lived in vileness, for no priest would give them Christian marriage. In Vislitsa lived Vislav the Beautiful, of the race of King Popiel. Once this Vislav, during the absence of Valger, fell to ravaging the lands of Tynets. Valger conquered him and brought him to Tynets, not remembering that every woman who looked on Vislav was ready straightway to desert father, mother, and husband, so be it that she could satisfy her desire. And so it happened with Helgunda. She invented such bonds for Valger that though he was a giant, though he tore up oak trees, he was not able to break the bonds, and she delivered him to Vislav, who took him to Vislitsa. But Vislav had a sister named Rynga. When she heard Valger singing in an underground dungeon she fell in love with him straightway, and freed him from under the earth. When he had slain Helguuda and Vislav with a sword, Valger left their bodies to the crows and returned to Tynets with Rynga."

"Did not he do what was right?" inquired the princess.

"If he had received baptism, and given Tynets to the Benedictines," answered Hidulf, "perhaps God would have remitted his sins, but since he did not do that the earth swallowed him."

"Were the Benedictines in this kingdom at that time?"

"The Benedictines were not in this kingdom, for pagans alone lived here then."

"In such case how could he receive baptism, or give away Tynets?"

"He could not, and for that very reason he is condemned to endless torments in hell," replied the monk, with dignity.

"Surely he speaks the truth!" said a number of voices.

They were now approaching the main gate of the monastery, in which the abbot at the head of a numerous retinue of monks and nobles was waiting for the princess. There were always many laymen, "messengers, advocates, procurators," and monastery officials there. Many landholders, even great nobles, held countless cloister lands by feudal tenure, rather exceptional in Poland, and these, as vassals, were glad to appear at the court of the "suzerain," where near the high altar it was easy to receive a grant, an abatement, and every kind of benefaction, dependent frequently on some small service, clever word, or a moment of good-humor in the mighty abbot. While preparing for solemnities in the capital many also of such vassals assembled from distant places; those of them for whom it was difficult, because of the throng, to find an inn in Cracow, found lodgings in Tynets. For these reasons the Abbas centum villarum (abbot of a hundred villas) might greet the princess with a retinue still more numerous than common.

He was a man of lofty stature, with an austere and wise face, with a head shaven on the crown, but lower down, above the ears, encircled by a garland of hair growing gray. On his forehead was a scar from a wound received evidently during years of young knighthood; eyes penetrating, haughty, looked out from beneath dark brows. He was dressed in a habit like other monks, but over it was a black mantle lined with purple, and on his neck a gold chain from the end of which depended a cross, also gold and inlaid with precious stones, the emblem of his dignity as abbot. His whole bearing indicated a man haughty, accustomed to command, and self-confident. But he greeted the princess cordially, and even with humility, for he remembered that her husband came of that stock of Mazovian princes from which King Vladislav and Kazimir the Great were descended on the female side, and at present the reigning queen was the mistress of one of the broadest realms on earth. He passed the threshold of the gate, therefore, inclined his head low, and, when he had made the sign of the cross over Anna Danuta and the whole court, with a golden tube which he held in the fingers of his right hand, he said,—

"Be greeted, gracious lady, at the poor threshold of monks. May Saint Benedict of Murcia, Saint Maurice, Saint Boniface, and Saint Benedict of Anagni, and also Saint John of Ptolomeus, our patrons who dwell in eternal light, endow thee with health and with happiness; may they bless thee seven times daily through every period of thy life."

"They would have to be deaf not to hear the words of so great an abbot," said the princess, courteously; "all the more since we have come here to mass, during which we shall place ourselves under their protection."

Then she extended her hand to him, which he, kneeling with courtliness on one knee, kissed in knightly fashion; after that they passed in through the gateway without delay. Those inside were waiting evidently for mass to begin, for at that moment the bells great and small were rung, trumpeters sounded shrill trumpets at the church door, in honor of the princess, while others beat enormous kettle-drums made of ruddy copper and covered with rawhide; these gave forth a roaring sound. On the princess, who was not born in a Christian country, every church had thus far produced a deep impression, but that church of Tynets produced it all the more, since in respect of grandeur there were few others to compare with it. Gloom filled the depth of the sanctuary. Only at the high altar were trembling rows of various lights mingled with the glitter of candles, illuminating the gilding and the carving. A monk in full vestments came out with the chalice, bowed to the princess, and began mass. Directly rose the smoke of abundant incense, which, hiding the priest and the altar, went upward in quiet clusters, increasing the mysterious solemnity of the church.

Anna Danuta bent her head backward, and spreading her hands at the height of her face began to pray earnestly. But when the organ—organs were rare in churches at that time—shook the whole nave with majestic thunder, filled it with angeis' voices, scattering as it were the song of the nightingale, the eyes of the princess were uplifted, on her face besides devotion and awe was depicted delight beyond limit, and it might seem to one looking at her that she was some blessed one, gazing at heaven opened in miraculous vision.

Thus prayed the daughter of Keistut, born in paganism. Though in daily life, like all people of that period, she mentioned the name of God in a friendly and intimate manner, in the house of the Lord she raised her eyes in childlike dread, and in subjection to a mysterious and infinite power.

In a like pious manner, though with less awe, did the whole court pray. Zbyshko knelt outside the stalls among the Mazovians, for only the princess and her damsels were inside, and he committed himself to the guardianship of God, and at moments looked at Danusia, who sat with closed eyes near the princess; and he thought that in truth there was worth in becoming the knight of such a maiden, but also that he had promised her no common thing. Under the "jacket" which he had won, he had girded on the hempen rope, but that was only one part of the vow, after which he had to accomplish the other, which was incomparably more difficult. So now, when the wine and beer which he had drunk in the inn had gone from his head, he was troubled in no slight degree as to the manner in which he should accomplish it. There was no war. In the disturbance on the boundary it was indeed easy for him to meet an armed German, break his skull, or lay down his own head. This he had told Matsko also. "But," thought he, "not every German wears peacock or ostrich plumes on his helmet:" of guests of the Knights of the Cross only certain counts, and of the Knights of the Cross themselves only comturs, and then not every one. If there should be no war, years might pass before he could find his three plumes. This too came to his head, that not being belted, he could only challenge unbelted men to combat in battle. He hoped, it is true, to receive the belt of a knight from the king in time of the tournaments which were promised after the christening, for he had earned it long before—but what next? He would go to Yurand of Spyhov, and assist him; he would crush warriors as far as possible, and that would be the end. But common warriors were not knights with peacock-plumes on their helmets.

In this suffering and uncertainty, seeing that without the special favor of God he would not do much, he began to pray: "Grant, O Jesus, war with the Knights of the Cross, and the Germans who are the enemies of this kingdom and of us all; and rub out those men who are more ready to serve the chieftain of hell than they are to serve Thee, bearing in their hearts hatred against us, most angry of all that our king and queen, having baptized Lithuania, prevent them from cutting down Thy servants with the sword. For which anger chastise them.

"And I, sinful Zbyshko, am penitent before Thee and implore aid from Thy five wounds to send me, at the earliest, three noted Germans with peacock-plumes on their helmets, and permit me in Thy mercy to slay them, because I have vowed those plumes to Panna Danusia, the daughter of Yurand; she is Thy servant, and I have sworn on my knightly honor. And of what is found on the slain I will bestow the tenth part on Thy church faithfully, so that Thou, sweet Jesus, may receive profit and honor from me; and know Thou that I promise with a sincere heart, and not idly. And as this is true, so help me. Amen."

But as he prayed, his heart melted more and more from devotion, and he added a new promise, that after freeing Bogdanets from pledge he would give to the church all the wax which the bees should make during a whole year. He hoped that his uncle Matsko would not oppose this, and the Lord Jesus especially would be rejoiced at having wax for candles, and from wishing to receive it at the earliest would help him the sooner. This thought seemed so just that delight filled Zbyshko's soul thoroughly. He was almost certain now that he would be heard, that war would come soon, and even should it not come he would get his own in every case. He felt in his hands and feet a strength so great that he would at that moment have attacked a whole company. He thought, even, that when he had made the promises to God he might have added two more Germans to Danusia. The young man's impulsiveness urged him to this, but prudence gained the victory, for he feared to weary God's patience by excessive demand.

His confidence, however, increased when, after mass and a long repose, to which the whole court gave itself, he heard a conversation which the abbot held with Anna Danuta at breakfast.

The wives of princes and kings in that age, through devotion, and because of lordly gifts, which the Order did not spare on them, showed the Knights of the Cross great friendship. Even the saintly Yadviga restrained, while her life lasted, the hand of her powerful husband raised above them. Anna Danuta alone, having experienced the Order's cruel injustice in her family, hated the Knights from her whole soul. So when the abbot inquired about Mazovia and its affairs she fell to accusing the Knights of the Cross bitterly.

"What is to be done in a principality which has such neighbors? There is peace, as it were; embassies and messages pass, but still we cannot be sure of the day or the hour. The man at the border who lies down to sleep in the evening never knows but he may wake up in bonds, or with a sword-edge at his throat, or a burning roof above his head. Oaths, seals, and parchments give no security against betrayal. It was not otherwise at Zlotoria, when in time of profound peace the prince was snatched away into captivity. The Knights of the Cross declared that his castle might become a threat to them. But castles are made for defence, not attack; and what prince is there who has not the right to build castles on his own land, or repair them? Neither weak nor strong are respected by the Knights of the Cross; the weak they despise, and they strive to bring the strong down to ruin. To him who does them good they return evil. Is there in the world an Order which has received in other kingdoms such benefactions as they have received from Polish princes? And how have they paid for them? With hatred, with ravaging of lands, with war and betrayal. As to complaint, it is useless. It is useless to complain to the Apostolic See itself, for living in pride and malice they disobey the Pope of Rome even. They have sent now, as it were, an embassy on the occasion of the queen's delivery, and for the coming christening, but only because they wish to turn away the wrath of the powerful king, which has been roused by their deeds in Lithuania. In their hearts, however, they are always meditating the ruin of this kingdom and the whole Polish race."

The abbot listened attentively and agreed, but said afterward,—

"I know that the comtur, Lichtenstein, has come to Cracow at the head of an embassy; he is a brother highly esteemed in the Order for his distinguished family, his bravery, and his wisdom. Perhaps you will see him here soon, gracious lady, for he sent me notice yesterday that, wishing to pray before our relics, he would come on a visit to Tynets."

When she heard this the princess began to raise new complaints.

"People declare, and God grant with truth, that a great war will come soon,—a war in which there will be on one side the Polish kingdom and all peoples whose speech resembles ours, and on the other all Germans and the Knights of the Cross. Very likely there is a prophecy of some saint touching this."

"Of Saint Bridget," interrupted the learned abbot; "eight years ago she was reckoned among the saints. The pious Peter of Alvaster, and Mathew of Linkoping wrote down her visions, in which a great war is really predicted."

Zbyshko quivered with delight at these words, and unable to restrain himself asked,—

"And is it to come soon?"

The abbot, occupied with the princess, did not hear, or perhaps feigned not to hear, this question.

"Young knights among us," continued the princess, "are delighted with this war, but those who are older and more sober of judgment speak thus: 'Not the Germans do we fear, though great is their pride and strength; not swords and lances, but the relics which the Knights have do we fear, for against them the strength of man is as nothing.'"

Here Princess Anna looked with fear at the abbot and added in a low voice: "Likely they have the true wood of the Holy Cross; how, then, is it possible to war with them?"

"The King of the French sent it to them," answered the abbot.

A moment of silence followed, after which was heard the voice of Mikolai, surnamed Obuh, a man of experience and training.

"I was in captivity among the Knights," said he, "and I saw processions at which that great sacred relic was carried. But besides, there is in the cloister at Oliva a number of others most important, without which the Order would not have risen to such power."

At this the Benedictines stretched their necks toward the speaker, and asked with great curiosity,—

"Will you tell us what they are?"

"There is a border from the robe of the Most Holy Virgin, there is a back tooth of Mary Magdalen, and branches from the fiery bush in which God the Father appeared to Moses; there is a hand of Saint Liberius; and as to bones of other saints, a man could not count them on his toes and fingers."

"How war with them?" repeated the princess, with a sigh.

The abbot wrinkled his lofty forehead, stopped for a moment, then said,—

"It is difficult to war with them, if only for the reason that they are monks and bear the cross on their mantles; but if they have exceeded the measure in sin, residence among them may become hateful to those relics, and in that hour not only will the relics not add, but they will detract from them, so as to fall into more pious hands. May God spare Christian blood, but should a great war come there are relics also in our kingdom which will act on our side. The voice in the vision of Saint Bridget said: 'I have placed them as bees of usefulness and fixed them on the border of Christian lands. But behold they have risen against me, they care not for souls and spare not the bodies of people who, out of error, turned to the Catholic faith, and to me. They have made slaves of these people and fail to teach them God's commands; depriving them of the holy sacraments, they condemn them to greater torments of hell than if they had remained in paganism. And they make war to satisfy their greed.' Therefore have confidence in God, gracious lady, for their days are numbered rather than yours; but meanwhile receive with thankful heart this tube here, in which is a toe of Saint Ptolomeus, one of our patrons."

The princess stretched forth her hand trembling from delight, and on her knees received the tube, which she pressed to her lips immediately. The delight of the lady was shared by the courtiers and the damsels, for no one doubted that blessing and prosperity would be diffused over all, and perhaps over the whole principality from such a gift. Zbyshko also felt happy, for it seemed to him that war ought to follow straightway after the Cracow festivities.