History of Russia

"Comrades, we must fight or die lest our common country be brought to shame. Disgrace is not for the dead but for cowards. As for me, I am willing to die."

His captains and his men shouted,—

"The place of thy death shall be our tomb."

So he issued with all his forces from the gates, and there was a bloody battle. A baptized Arab, a son of the Emir of Crete, dropping his reins, dashed up to Holy Fame and felled him to the ground with his broadsword; but the Russians rallied to the assistance of their prince and quickly despatched the Emir's son. When the battle seemed to favor the troops of the prince, the Emperor himself rushed into the thick of the fight followed by his Immortals. A storm arose and blew the dust into the eyes of the Russians, and they were pelted with great hail-stones. And suddenly there appeared among them St. Theodore the martyr, in the guise of a horseman on a white horse, calling the Greeks to victory.

The Russians gave way, leaving on the battle-field fifteen thousand dead and twice ten thousand shields. Holy Fame retired into the town once more and sued for peace. He swore by Perun and Volos never again to invade the empire, but to help defend it from all enemies. "If we break our vows," said he, "may the curse of God fall upon us, may we become yellow as gold, and perish by our own weapons."

The Greek Emperor granted peace to the Russians, and let them depart. He even sent deputies to the Petchenegs, begging them to give free passage to the little remnant of the prince's army. When Holy Fame reached the rapids of the Dnieper these ferocious barbarians were lying in wait for him. He was obliged to winter there, and endure the horrors of famine.

RUSSIAN CAVALRY.

When spring returned and Holy Fame tried to pass the cataracts, the Petchenegs fell upon his army and made great carnage. They killed Holy Fame, and their prince took his skull and had it fashioned into a drinking-cup, with the inscription in gold,—

"He who covets the wealth of another often loses his own."

Thus perished this brave, cunning, and ambitious Norman. He was agile as a panther, and cared only for the riot of war. His army marched without baggage or train. His meat was horse-flesh half broiled on the coals. He slept in the open air, on the bare ground, with a saddle for his pillow and a horse-blanket for a mattress. One who saw him after his defeat has left us this portrait of him as he came to converse with the Greek Emperor:—

"John, in shining armor, on horseback, and surrounded by a countless escort with golden cuirasses, approached the bank of the Danube. And Holy Fame drew near in a long boat, handling the oar like his companions. He seemed to be of middle height, and very robust. He had a broad chest, a thick neck, a flat nose, bushy eyebrows, long, shaggy mustaches, a thin beard; the hair on his head was close shaven except one tuft, the mark of his nobility. He wore a single gold earring, ornamented with a ruby and two pearls. His whole appearance was rough and gloomy, and he was distinguished from the other Russians only by the cleanness of his white raiment. And not disembarking from his boat he spoke a few words with the Emperor and then returned as he came."

Vladimir, the Beautiful Sun of Kief

Holy Fame's son, Fiery Host, left Lord of Kief, attacked his brother Oleg, Prince of the Forest Folk, and put him to death. His half-brother, Vladimir, chosen Prince of Novgorod, fled beyond the sea. Fiery Host conquered the Petchenegs and remained master of all Russia. But his younger brother returned from Norway with a well-armed band of warriors and sent word to him,—

Vladimir is coming against thee; prepare to defend thyself." And he again took possession of Novgorod.

Fiery Host was to marry Rogneda, the beautiful daughter of Rogvolod, who had come from the other side of the sea and was Prince of Polotsk, but Vladimir had heard of her beauty and he vowed to win her hand. He sent word: "I wish to marry thee;" but the princess, knowing that Vladimir's mother was only a serving-woman, answered,—

"I will never wed the son of a slave."

Vladimir, angry at the insult, gathered together a great army, sacked Polotsk and killed the prince and his two sons and forced the proud and scornful Rogneda to be his wife. Then, without losing time, he marched against Kief. His brother listened to the counsels of the traitor Blud, and fled, and was soon after put to death by the Normans of Vladimir, who in turn ruled over all Russia. These bloody civil wars were accompanied by fearful signs in the sun, moon, and stars; thunder-storms and hurricanes desolated the fields and the habitations of men.

VLADIMIR

Vladimir, freed from all rivals, went out against the Poles and many other ferocious tribes, and forced them to pay tribute. When he returned to Kief he offered up victims to the false gods on the hill of Perun, and the lot fell on the son of a Christian Norman, who said,—