The Ryazan men resisted many days, and fought with desperation. They inflicted great loss on the Mongols, but, as was clear, they were weakening. Since they did not let their weapons go out of their hands, they were sure to be conquered in the end by weariness. The Mongols relieved their own storming parties, they gave those men rest, and sent forward fresh regiments. At last they succeeded in crushing the walls down and firing the city by hurling in heavy stones and blazing substances. On December 21, 1237, they mounted the breaches, and through fire, smoke and slaughter burst into the city. [[232]]
At the same time, in the region about Ryazan, through all villages and monasteries, similar seizures and slaughters were enacted. For the Mongols it was not enough to capture cities and towns; they destroyed all the people from the aged to infants. They amused themselves with inflicting various kinds of cruel death singly; they loved also to kill men in multitudes. Made drunk, as it were, by abundance of bloodshed, they rose to a wild, boundless ecstasy.
For many days this rejoicing and slaughter continued. Then groans and wails ceased in the ruined city and its environs, and all was silent. There was no one to wail, no one to groan, since all were lying dead and frozen. When the Mongols had vanished naught remained but blackened stones and charred remnants. Of many towns, cities and villages, nothing was left except stones, and cinders and dead bodies. It might almost be said that the Ryazan principality existed no longer. Those ill-fated princes, when the Mongols appeared on their southern border, sent to beg aid of Prince Yuri of Vladimir, and their relatives in Chernigoff. Kolovrat, who had been sent to Chernigoff, led back some men to the ruins of his birthplace. Amazed and maddened when he saw those ruins, he rushed forward to strike the rear of the Mongols. He overtook them at night, as they were leaving the Ryazan borders. The Mongols were terrified when they saw him. “Are not those the dead of Ryazan,” cried they, “who have risen and come to avenge their own deaths on us?”
Those unknown Russians fought like furies. Then, seizing the swords from Mongols slain by them, and dropping their own weapons, they cut and slashed with more fury than ever. There was uproar and chaos in the whole Mongol army. The Mongols succeeded, however, in capturing five of the raging pursuers, whom they took to the Khan, their commander. “Who are ye?” asked the Khan. “Wonder not, O Tsar,” answered they, “that we have strength to fill the cup of death for all Mongols. We are servants of Prince Ingvar; we are of Kolovrat’s regiment, sent to conduct thee and thy warriors with honor. We conduct as many as we are able.”
Tavrul, Batu’s brother-in-law, offered to seize Kolovrat. He went out on an unterrified steed against him, but Kolovrat cut the [[233]]Mongol in two, from his head to the saddle on which he was sitting. Then the Mongols surrounded the handful of heroes, who stood like a fortress, and not one of them yielded. All of those warriors were slain after desperate fighting. The Khan praised the dead men, and gave the five living their freedom. “The Russians know well,” said he, “how to drink the death cup with their princes.”
Prince Yuri gave no aid to Ryazan. He said he would move against the enemy in person, and act separately.
The Mongols turned now against Yuri. The old road from Ryazan to Vladimir lay through Kolomna and Moscow, in a country comparatively rich and well settled. Yuri sent troops to both cities. To Kolomna he sent his own son Vsevolod, and to Moscow another son, Vladimir, so young that Philip, the voevoda, was attached to his person. Leaving wife and family in Vladimir, confident that they would be safe within its walls, he himself hurried northward to levy warriors, and make ready for action. His nephews from Rostoff and Yaroslavl, the sons of Constantine, hastened to join his forces, and he hoped for the return of his brother, Yaroslav, with regiments from Kief.
The Mongols made no useless delay at Kolomna. They slaughtered the inhabitants and burned down the city. One of the Ryazan princes, who had survived, joined at Kolomna the army sent out by Yuri, but in the battle which followed almost immediately every man fell except Yuri’s son. He escaped by fleeing swiftly to Vladimir, to meet a worse death in that doomed city.
A fate like that of Kolomna soon struck Moscow; the place was stormed and sacked. Philip was killed, with other defenders, who fell fighting bravely. While the Mongols were dividing the rich spoils and rejoicing, they burned the city. Ordinary prisoners were killed quickly, those of distinction were crucified, flayed alive or burned. Yuri’s son, Vladimir, they took with them. The countless army, that same army of which Arabian historians wrote that on its path “the earth groaned, birds dropped dead, and wild beasts lost their senses,” opened now and moved away in various directions. From these divisions still smaller ones separated and marched off on all roads. They took in towns and settlements as a net gathers fish under water. People fled from cities and villages in crowds. They hid in caves, in dark forests, [[234]]and in gullies, not knowing how to escape or whither they should go for refuge. Those who were near heard from those who had come from afar that Mongols were everywhere slaying, burning, robbing churches, and cutting down old and young as they traveled. Others were leading a multitude of captives to their camps. It brought terror to look at those captives, barefoot and bloodless.
February 3, 1238, the Mongols appeared at Vladimir and surrounded the city. The Vladimir men rejected proposals of surrender, and saw with dismay how the enemy strengthened their camp, and began preparations for storming. Mongol leaders rode round the city and surveyed its defenses. Then, to the amazement of all, an immense crowd of mounted commanders approached the main gate of the city, and asked, “Is Prince Yuri among you?” The people answered with arrows. The commanders replied in the same way, sending each of them an arrow at the crosses on the bell-towers glittering with golden tops in the sunlight. Then they made signs to stop shooting and negotiate. When the Vladimir men desisted, to see what would happen, the Mongols showed Yuri’s young son made prisoner in Moscow, and asked if they knew him. A cry rose. Vsevolod and Mystislav, brothers of the captive, wished to sally forth and save him, but they were held back by the people. All, from the voevoda to the last man in the city, swore to fight while life remained. All declared that they were ready to die for God’s churches, and those simple words were no idle sounds from those people.