The rage of the Tsar when he learned that Mazeppa had proved a traitor was dreadful to witness. He fell writhing in a fit, his head and limbs jerking, his face contorted. When he recovered, he bade Menshikof and his troops throw themselves upon city and castle, burning the place with all it contained; then, having caused an effigy of Mazeppa to be fashioned, he first hanged it in public and afterwards had it dragged through the filth of the streets. Every year since that day Mazeppa’s name is cursed throughout Russia upon the Day of Curses, which is the first Sunday of the long Fast.
But the delay caused by Mazeppa’s adhesion cost the Swedish forces dear, for it compelled them to winter in Russia, and by means of sundry small successes the armies of Peter began to render their position dangerous.
Then Mazeppa actually wrote to the Tsar proposing to deliver both Charles and his armies into his hands; but Peter would have none of him and his promises, fearing more treachery. Instead, the Tsar replied to Mazeppa with shameful words, saying that he would presently have both Charles and Mazeppa also.
And in the summer came the great day, when Charles and his dwindled and hungry army, and with him Mazeppa and his Cossacks—poor deluded men—attacked the Tsar at Pultowa.
All the world knows of that great battle; how the star of Charles fell for ever and that of Peter rose, never to set. How Charles fled with a few men and with Mazeppa, who preserved his own skin intact and tried to spirit away with him, moreover, two barrels of gold pieces which he had taken care to secure.
Yet it must not be said that Mazeppa fought ill on that day. Never did men fight more desperately than our good Cossack fools who had followed the old fox into ruin. Once the Tsar, riding near me at the moment, bade me watch the old Hetman charge with his fellows. By the saints, the sight did one good, even though they were against us!
‘Curse him!’ cried Peter, ‘his lances kill three to every one of them that falls. Take a thousand of our Cossacks, Chelminsky, and chase the rascals into the Vorskla! Bring me Mazeppa alive, and by all the devils I will make thee head over every Cossack that breathes!’
That was a notable fight. At the first charge, the numbers being in our favour, not a man fell on either side, for neither were our fellows willing to slay their brethren, nor they us; but ours, as they rode through the others’ ranks, hurled reproaches and shameful names at them and at Mazeppa for their treachery, so that when we turned to charge back again Mazeppa’s men were furious and fought like devils, and many scores of saddles were emptied on both sides.
As for me, I had a pass or two with Mazeppa in the crowd, but neither of us struck his best.
‘Ride out of the crush, Mazeppa, and I will follow,’ I said. ‘I must seem to pursue thee, but for God’s sake let me not bring thee alive into the Tsar’s hands, as he would have me do, for thou shalt be torn limb from limb.’