passed over our dead bodies.' Julian obeyed the old man's words; much as he was tempted to linger, he feared to do so, lest the Mongolians should suddenly appear, and then, maybe, the news of his discovery would never reach home. He started off therefore in June, crossed the Volga, and, reaching Hungary in six months time, entreated the people to prepare for the approaching storm. But they only mocked him; no one but the King believed his words till two years later, when the Mongolians were on the frontiers, and no one was prepared to resist them. The old chief had prophesied truly. The Mongolians had not been able to attack Lesser Hungary' save across the dead body of the 'Greater.' 'What became of our relations? They died, were dispersed, there is not one left; we are alone.' *

The Mongolians, usually but inaccurately † called Tatars, had dwelt, from time immemorial, in the wide chiefly desert district between China and Siberia. Their early history is involved in obscurity; but towards the end of the twelfth century, Temudschin, a son of one of the Khans, made himself by degrees master of chief part of Mongolia, and of many of the Tatar tribes, took the title of Dschingis or Chief Khan, subdued part of the Chinese empire, took Pekin, attacked the Petschenegen and Kumans dwelling near the Caspian and Black Sea, and after an unparalleled career of conquest, died A. D. 1227. One of his sons, Uetegai, or Oktai, succeeded him in the Great Khanship, while the three others received large inheritances under their brother. After subduing the whole of north China, Oktai sent his nephew Batu westwards, with an army of five hundred thousand men. This vast multitude marched in swarms across the Caucasus, while the people fled before them. Here and there some brave-spirited nation, such as the Circassian or Kuman, stood up to oppose them, but, after a short battle, it was overwhelmed in the storm, and the vast mass still moved swiftly and steadily on towards Hungary; and Hungary was indeed ill-prepared to meet it.

'The land was sick; so much the more bitter was the necessary medicine. The Hungarian nation has died many times, but it has never remained in the grave. God has always raised it up, renewed it, and glorified it. As then we read one of the darkest pages of Hungarian history, let us draw from it at least this consolation—that a people which has survived sword and pestilence, must be destined for ever to maintain its place among the nations of the earth.'

Already the frontiers were in a blaze. The squabbling noble sheathed his sword, shut himself up in his castle, and raised the draw-bridge; the Ishmaelite left half his taxes ungathered, tied his treasure up in a bundle, and fled to the fortified towns; penitential litanies resounded from the cloisters; the peasant left his plough, and inquired anxiously what was the meaning of the blood-red glare in the sky, so long after the sun had set.

*The above is taken chiefly from Jókai Mór.

Suddenly appeared a King's-messenger, carrying a bloody sword through the land, and proclaiming wherever he went, 'Ruin! ruin! the Tatars are coming. Russia is beaten to the ground, Circassia blotted out; the Kumans are driven from their home, Poland has fallen, and now it is our turn! Asia is steeped in blood, heaps of skulls mark the site of her noble cities; it is our turn! To arms! to arms!'

The cry of terror sounded throughout the land, and was listened to as long as it lasted; but when it had died away in the distance, the peasant shrugged his shoulders and said, 'The country is not mine, I plough for all alike.'

It is not mine,' said the merchant, I can go away and take my treasure with me.'

'It is not mine,' said the noble. 'It is the King's; let him defend it.' And no one moved.

Then followed more warnings.

Chiefs without people, kings without kingdoms, came flying into the country; forty thousand families, the remains of the once powerful Kuman nation, sought an asylum in Hungary, with bleeding wounds and blood-stained garments, showing that they had not given up their country without a struggle. The Kuman Prince, Kuthen, appeared at the court of his neighbour, King Béla, which was filled with fugitive chiefs, each of whom had seen his people fall, and could draw terrible pictures of the battles in which his kingdom had perished, and of those by whom it had been destroyed. But no one could say so much about them as Kuthen, whose sword was still black with their blood; and the Magyars listened attentively while he described the enemy and his mode of warfare.

But the arrival of the Kumans only added to King Béla's difficulties. They were still in a state of semi-barbarism, the Magyars distrusted them, and when a district was assigned them between the Danube and the Tisza, endless were the quarrels and misunderstandings between them and the people of the land. In order to have them better under control, it was determined to disperse them through the different counties, much to their own dissatisfaction.

Meanwhile, the Palatine with a small force of patriotic men went north to defend the mountain passes; but the greater part of the nation still either refused to believe that the Tatars were coming, or affected to believe that if they were, it was only to pursue the Kumans. Some even hoped the King might be humbled by a defeat. But all doubt as to the reality of the Tatars' intentions was soon dispelled by the arrival of messengers from Batu, summoning the King to acknowledge him as his lord, if he would save his kingdom from destruction.

Béla instantly summoned the Diet to meet at Buda, and sent ambassadors to the Princes of Western Europe, calling upon them to help him in his extremity.

It was a cold drizzling day in spring when the Diet met; everybody was out of humour. There were but two or three Magnates to be seen,

and they kept their eyes fixed on the ground. The nobles were scattered about on the hills; here and there a few had dismounted, and were gathered in groups, listening to some eloquent demagogue. The standards of the counties were left on the hills, wet through, and hanging dismally in heavy folds, while the standard-bearer lay beneath them on the ground, wrapped up in his large rough cloak.

The King was some little time in making his appearance, as before addressing the general assembly, he wished to give audience to the ambassadors, whom he had sent to solicit assistance. Cold and comfortless answers were all they had to bring him. There was no help forthcoming. Deep despondency was depicted on the faces of all present; and the King with his uncovered head resting on his hands, for the moment seemed to despair, as he said, 'We are then left to ourselves.' He rose, and was about to leave the tent, when one of those present observed that he was uncovered, and the Archbishop Mátyus placed the crown on his head.

'It will not be mine long,' said the King bitterly; but when he came out before the people, all trace of weakness had vanished from his brow, and every look and movement was dignified and kingly. A few eljens were heard as he made his appearance, but they were not hearty; and as he mounted the tribune, not a single sunbeam nor a human face smiled upon him.

'Few of those summoned are here,' said the King, looking round, and taking in at a glance who of the Magnates were present; and those who are here have come without their troops. Yet we have but a few days in which to make preparations.'

'They dared not come,' said a voice from the crowd; and a spectrelike figure rose up to answer the King. You have burnt their seats, and they have nowhere to sit if they came. As for ourselves, under King András we used to bring our whole retinue, but since you have taken away our estates, we have been obliged to leave our sons at home to plough and sow.'

The King looked indignantly at the group of nobles from whom the voice proceeded. It was from them he had taken the crown-lands; and now, to show their contempt, they appeared at the Diet in old uniforms, with rusty swords; but he said quietly, 'I know you, I have seen you in every civil war, but never before the enemy. It is as I expected, those who have the largest possessions in the country are least willing to defend her. But there are still the people;' and turning from the nobles, he continued, 'I still trust you, the lower nobility, and freemen, the poorest in the land except myself. You share with me the glory of the fatherland; I call upon you to defend it.'

At any other time such a speech would have evoked a storm of eljens, but now there was only the same murmur as before, while an old man came forward and stood before the King, saying, as he stroked back his grey hair, My Lord King, you have said that the dog-headed, infidel,

Mongolian-Tatars are at hand, and that they will burn our houses, massacre ourselves, or make slaves of us. But, in the name of my companions, I reply that there are here in your kingdom worse oppressors than the dog-headed Tatar-namely, the usurers, Jews, Ishmaelites, whom your departed father made lords not only of the country but of himself. Our houses are burnt, only the smoke is not seen; we have wars, and enemies who do not kill but flay us; they do not carry us away captive into a foreign land, but make slaves of us in our own. Therefore, if you wish us to raise our hands in your defence, you must first loose them, for they are bound.'*

As he concluded, a loud cry burst from the people, 'Down with the Ishmaelites! death to the infidel!'

The King took his signet-ring from his finger, and gave it to the Chancellor, saying, 'They shall be banished.' But still the people howled incessantly, and the old spokesman's endeavours to quiet them were quite in vain. The concession only emboldened them to make fresh demands, and one rough-looking leader came forward, saying insolently, 'I will follow you, my Lord King, but there are so many enemies in the land, we do not know against whom to fight. What use is it for us to take up arms against the enemy, when we see his comrades sitting before you, and allowed to go in and out of your palace night and day, while we can address you only on paper or through the window? It is this foreigner,' continued the demagogue, pointing to the Kuman King, 'who has brought an army into the land to prepare the way for the Tatars. He is in league with them. Did not a Kuman lately steal an ox from our herds? Two nations cannot dwell in one kingdom; either they must go out, or we. Choose, then, whose King you will be.'

But before Béla had time to speak, Kuthen laid his sword at his feet, praying him to take him prisoner and put him to death if the accusation were true. The King's body-guard meantime surrounded the unhappy Prince, and taking him out of reach of the raging multitude, placed him under a guard in one of the wings of the palace.

Again the King urged the people to prepare to follow him and attack the enemy before he crossed the frontier; but he was met by fresh murmurs, and the reminder that, by the Bulla Aurea, no noble was bound to follow the King to war beyond the frontier, unless the latter paid his expenses.

Disgusted with such coldness and selfishness, when every moment lost brought the nation a step nearer her grave, the King rose impatiently from his seat, saying, 'Go; your assistance is not needed. Go home! I will defend the country with mercenaries.' But, alas! the treasurer whispered to his Majesty that there was no money wherewith to pay troops.

Béla turned to his usual money-lender, a baptized Mahometan, who was wont to lend him money at a high rate of interest; and the money

* In his extremity, Béla had obtained the consent of the Pope to farming the taxes to Jews, &c., in spite of the Bulla Aurea.

lender, bowing humbly to the earth, said, 'My Lord, I am an Ishmaelite, banished from your kingdom. I leave this land to-morrow.'

It was enough to drive any poor king wild, and Béla struck his forehead in despair.

The Diet lasted several days, but with little satisfactory result. The deliberations were still going on, when, on the 11th March, a message came from the Palatine, saying that the enemy in great force was close upon him, and would shortly cross the Carpathians, for it would be impossible for him to defend the pass unless he were reinforced without delay.

Four days later the Diet was suddenly disturbed by the sound of a trumpet, and presently a small band of men were seen toiling wearily across the heath, bringing with them a few tattered banners. Before them rode a man with battered helmet, pierced armour, and a shield so indented with blows that the crest was hardly distinguishable. His followers, who scarcely numbered a hundred, were in similar plight. Struck dumb with terror, the crowd recognized in him the Palatine, whom they supposed to be defending the mountain pass in the Carpathians. He rode up to the King, and stood, unable to speak. At length, after several attempts, he stammered, 'God and the Holy Virgin bless your royal head!' then, turning to the people, he told how he had defended the pass for seven days, till overpowered by the Mongols, who had poured through in vast numbers, and were already in Hungary.' A terrible cry rose from the hearts of all present, as he concluded his short speech. The King alone showed no signs either of grief or fear. All his indecision was gone. He signed to the Bishop of Vácz* to approach, gave his wife and children, together with the holy crown, into his charge, bade him take the relics of St. István from Stuhlweissenburg, and convey all the most precious treasures of King and country to a place of safety in Austria. Then his face brightened; he drew his sword, and raising it on high, exclaimed, 'The life of the country is in the Hand of God, but its honour is in mine. Let all who are ready to die for the glory of their country follow me! but let all those who prefer to live in shame, remain behind!'

Thousands of swords flashed from their sheaths at these words, and their owners shouted, as with one voice, 'We will follow you, and die with you!' The Magnates waved their rusty swords; the Ishmaelites, with the enthusiasm of fear, emptied their money-bags before the throne; the Bishops put on armour, and the people raised the King on a shield and bore him about in triumph. It seemed at that moment as though the country were saved; for the nearness of the danger had startled all out of their selfishness; and lord and peasant, noble and priest, hastened to the rendez-vous at Pest.

Kálmán, the King's brother, came with the legions of Croatia ; Friedrich of Austria too came with a small escort, rather fit for a

* Waitzen.