19. The Happy Year

And After;—

Why cannot we stop here? Why must we follow the story in its bitterest realities? Why must we tell all, continue to the last, and, after the brilliant commencement, relate the sad ending?

The Lion Tchetchevik, after having prepared everything in the dark, thought that the sun of a second year would make his success more fruitful. Everybody thought so, even more than he. We are assured that it was more than once a question in the enemy’s council, whether they should not offer peace to this man, the bravest among the brave, the most generous among all generous souls, an honorable peace, acceptable to Ukraine. They wanted this glorious young man for a friend, for an ally; they would have been glad in Russia to have him belong entirely to themselves. Everybody was talking of his great deeds, of how grand and terrible he was in the midst of battle, but also how compassionate and gentle when the combat was ended.

The account of his defense of Gadiatch, taken and retaken three times from the enemy, was in every one’s mouth, and will never be forgotten. This perfect hero only needed a Homer. The army which he fought extolled him in the highest terms, on both sides the wounded and dying called him their father. Each one called him to his aid. The names of those forever dear to Ukraine are the Lion Tchetchevik, Méphodiévna, and the angel Maroussia.

But, alas, where are we? Do you remember the dark beginning, the journeys by night, the secret plotting? We have returned to them. Yes, everything must begin over again.

The counsels of force prevailed. The powerful enemy took its own time and returned in overwhelming numbers. They knew to<j well, they had learned at their own expense what Ukraine was, what the Cossack and the peasant were able to do, to venture again heedlessly into such a noble country.

On our side, everything is taken up afresh and with less chance of success. Nevertheless, honor remained to be vindicated, and each one said: “We will vindicate it.” Force may kill the right, but cannot abolish it.

Shame to those who ask: “What is the use of this desperate fighting?” Can a man abandon his mother in her suffering? Can he leave his sister to be the prey of the enemy? Can he desert his betrothed, his wife, his children, his home and his farm? Can he abandon his country which contains all these to the invader, as long as he has a drop of blood in his veins? No, he cannot do it.

“It would be better to surrender, and the shame will cost less,” murmured the cowards. Ah! Let them be silent, let them hide themselves, let them return forever into the earth, these counselors of infamy. Persons who think thus are like crawling reptiles, they are despised even by the enemy himself.

No! No! There is nothing worse than disgrace. Only those will arise again, on the day of judgment, in the better world, who have known how to die nobly here. And even if the day of reparation never comes, what does it matter? We must leave good deeds behind us, they are imperishable. History will gather them together; the wealth of the children consists in their fathers having sacrificed everything to their duty.

This is what the Ukrainians think, this is what the poorest in Ukraine will say to himself in a hundred, in two hundred, yes, in a thousand years from now.

As to the Russians, they are of my opinion. Would you be proud of having conquered hares or sheep?

Let us return to our story.