Cossack Tales

by Nikolai Vasilevich Gogol

Such were the Cossacks who resolved to remain, and take their revenge on the Poles for the sake of their beloved comrades and the Christian faith. The old Cossack Bovdug resolved also to abide with them, saying "My years are no longer those in which I could give chase to the Tartars; here is the place where I may find a Cossack's death. For a long time I have prayed God, that I might, when I close my life, end it in war for some holy and Christian reason. Thus it now happens; the old Cossack could not find a more glorious end, or in a more fitting place."

When all were separated and stood in two rows, in koorens on both sides, the Koschevoï went through the ranks and said, "Well now, gentlemen brothers, is one side pleased with the other?"

"All are pleased, father," answered the Cossacks.

"Well then, embrace one another, and give one another a farewell shake of the hand, for Heaven knows if we are to meet again in this life. Obey your Ataman, do what you know must be done; you know yourselves what a Cossack's honour bids you to do!"

And all the Cossacks, as many as were there, embraced one another. First of all began the atamans, and wiping their gray mustachios with their hands, kissed one another's cheeks, and then as they took one another's hands and held them tight, they wished to ask, "Gentleman brother, shall we ever meet again, or shall we not?" However, they put not the question, but kept silence, and both gray heads remained thoughtful. The Cossacks, too, bade farewell to one another, well knowing that both sides would have hard work; still they decided not to separate at once, but to await the darkness of night, in order that the foe should not perceive the diminution of their forces. They all repaired to their koorens for dinner. After dinner, those who had to go on march laid themselves down for repose, and had a long sound sleep, as if conscious that this would perhaps be their last sleep in such freedom. They slept till the sun set; as it went down and darkness came on, they began to put their carts in order. This done, they made them advance, and themselves bidding once more farewell to their comrades, slowly followed; behind the infantry tramped the cavalry in silence, without crying to their horses or urging them on, and soon, nothing could be seen of them in the darkness of the night. The hollow trampling of the horses alone resounded, and at times was heard the creaking of some wheel, which had not been properly greased on account of the darkness.

The comrades who were left behind, stood a long time waving their hands to them, although nothing could be seen. But when they ceased at last, and came back to their places, when they saw by the light of the stars, which now shone brightly, that half the waggons were gone, and that many, many friends were there no longer, sorrow crept into their hearts, and all became thoughtful and bent down their heads.

Tarass saw how mournful the ranks of the Cossacks had become, and that sadness, unbecoming to brave men, had found its way into the heads of the Cossacks; but he kept silence, wishing to leave time for everything, time to grieve over their parting with their comrades; but while silent, he prepared himself to awaken them all at once by suddenly speaking to them like a Cossack, so that courage might again and with still greater power return to their hearts. The Slavonic race, that wide spreading, that mighty race, is the only one capable of this—a race which, is to others what the sea is to shallow rivulets; when the weather is tempestuous it roars and thunders, rises in mountain-like waves, such as feeble streams can never exhibit; but when there is no storm and all is quiet, it spreads out its immeasurable glassy expanse, clearer than any stream, and soothing to the sight of the beholder.

Tar ass ordered one of his servants to unload one of the carts which stood apart. This cart was the biggest and the strongest in the whole Cossack camp; a double iron hoop encircled its strong wheels; it was heavily loaded, covered with horse-cloths, strong ox-hides, and corded with tarred ropes. It was filled with casks and barrels of old wine which had long lain in Tarass's cellars. He had brought it in preparation for any solemn occasion, when some great event might occur, when some mighty feat, worthy to be recorded for posterity, should be at hand; that then every Cossack, to the very least, might drink some of the precious wine, in order that in a solemn moment, a deep impression might be made on every man. On hearing the colonel's command, his servants rushed to the cart, severed the ropes with their sabres, tore away the thick ox-hides and horse-cloths, and took down the casks and barrels.

"Take, all of you," said Boolba, "all, as many as are here, whatever every one has got; a cup, or the scoop with which you water your horses, or a gauntlet, or a cap—or if you have none of these, why then, hold out the hollow of your hands."

And all the Cossacks, as many as were there, took some of them cups, others scoops with which they gave drink to their horses, others gauntlets, or caps, and some held out the hollow of their hands. To every one of them did the servants of Tarass, as they passed through their ranks, pour out wine from the casks and barrels. But Tarass ordered that none should drink till he gave the signal, in order that all might drink at the same time. One could see that he was about to speak. Tarass knew, excellent as the good old wine might be of itself, and well adapted to raise a man's spirits, that when a well-suited harangue should be joined to its effect, double would be the strength both of wine and of courage.