'Neath the Hoof of the Tartar; Or, The Scourge of GodJósika, Miklós, báró
History
'Neath the Hoof of the Tartar; Or, The Scourge of God
Jósika, Miklós, báró
Hungary -- History -- Mongol Invasion, 1241-1242 -- Fiction
Councils, even those held in the King's presence, were by no means
orderly in those days. Everyone present wanted to put in his word, and
that, too, just as and when he pleased, so the Duke had hardly finished
speaking, when up rose one of the elder and more important-looking
nobles, exclaiming impatiently, "Your Majesty! These foreign lords have
told us very fully to what we owe their present kind visit; and they
have told us, too, that our country is threatened by ruffianly,
contemptible brigands and incendiaries. There is but one thing they have
forgotten. I should like to know whether this horde of would-be
conquerors have any courage, discipline, or knowledge of war among them.
It seems to me important that they should tell us this in their own
interests, for it needs no great preparation to scatter a disorderly
rabble, but valiant warriors are, of course, another thing."
"Very true, Master Tibörcs," said the King calmly, patiently.
But when the matter was explained to the Russian Duke, he exclaimed,
with an expression of the utmost horror and contempt, "Valiant!
disciplined! military knowledge! Why, my lord king, who could expect
anything of the sort from such thieves and robbers! But, despicable as
they are as soldiers, they are dangerous for all that! They are cowards!
They are as wild as cattle, as senseless as stones, but--they have
numbers, countless numbers, on their side. They fall in thousands, and
they use the dead and wounded to bridge the rivers! And they are swift
as the very wind."
Several at the table here exclaimed that the Duke must be magnifying, or
at least that he had heard exaggerated reports; and one of the most
timorous added that to a man who was terrified danger always looked
greater than it did to anyone else in the world. That man, at all
events, knew what he was talking about!
"We are not afraid, gentlemen," said Románovics, turning at once towards
those seated at the table. "We are exhausted with fighting ourselves,
and their blood, too, has flowed in torrents; ten of them have fallen to
every one of our men, but then their numbers are ten times ours."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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