'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
"Ah! they are no matter!" he gasped, "one may get such cuts as these any
day in a tavern brawl, but--I'm--done for!"
By the help of a wooden flask of wine the man presently revived enough
to satisfy the curiosity of the bystanders, though he still looked
terrified.
"I have come straight from Vácz--my horse fell down under me. I was
pursued by Tartars--a score of arrows hit the poor beast--three went
through my cap and tore the skin off my head!"
"But what is going on in Vácz? they have beaten off the Tartars, eh?"
"There _is_ no Vácz!" said the man, with an involuntary shudder through
all his limbs.
All were too dumfounded to utter even an exclamation. They had believed
that their troops had but to show themselves, and the Mongols would be
scattered.
"The walls of Vácz stand staring up to heaven, as black as soot," the
man went on. "The people defended themselves to the last, ay, to the
last, for hardly a hundred out of them all have escaped!"
"But the church--there are moats to it, and new walls----" began one of
the bystanders.
"There _were_!" said the furrier, "there were! there is nothing left
now! The clergy, and the old men, with the women and children, took
refuge there, and all the valuables were taken there; even the women
fought--but it was no good!"
"Did the Tartars take it?" inquired several at once, beneath their
breath.
"They stormed it, took it, plundered it, murdered every soul and then
set fire to it; it may be burning still! Their horrible yells! they are
ringing in my ears now!" and the furrier shuddered again.
But at that moment the attention of the crowd was diverted from him by a
commotion going on at a little distance, and they pressed forward to see
what it meant, but soon came back, making all the haste they could to
get out of the way of some heavy cavalry, armed from head to foot, and
preceded by six trumpeters, who were advancing down the street.
"The Austrians!" said some of the more knowing, as Duke Friedrich and
his brilliant train passed on straight to the King's palace, where his
arrival was so unexpected that no one was in readiness to receive him.
Events and rumours had followed one another so quickly that day, that
the whole population was in a state of excitement; but there was more to
come, and the Duke was hardly out of sight, when a Magyar horseman
galloped up, the foam dropping from his horse, which was covered with
blood. Its rider seemed to be so beside himself with terror as not to
know what he was doing, and as the crowd flocked round him, he shouted,
"Treachery! the King has left us in the lurch! Ugrin and his
troops--overwhelmed by the Tartars!"
With that he galloped on till he reached the bank of the Danube, where
his horse fell under him, and when they hastened to the rider's
assistance, they found only a dead body.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account