Ziska The Blind Warrior

Sigismund, Emperor of Germany, had sworn to put an end to the Hussite

rebellion in Bohemia, and to punish the rebels in a way that would make

all future rebels tremble. But Sigismund was pursuing the old policy of

cooking the hare before it was caught. He forgot that the indomitable

John Ziska and the iron-flailed peasantry stood between him and his vow.

He had first to conquer the reformers before he could punish them, and
< r /> this was to prove no easy task.



The dreadful work of religious war began with the burning of Hussite

preachers who had ventured from Bohemia into Germany. This was an

argument which Ziska thoroughly understood, and he retorted by

destroying the Bohemian monasteries, and burning the priests alive in

barrels of pitch. "They are singing my sister's wedding song," exclaimed

the grim barbarian, on hearing their cries of torture. Queen Sophia,

widow of Wenceslas, the late king, who had garrisoned all the royal

castles, now sent a strong body of troops against the reformers. The

army came up with the multitude, which was largely made up of women and

children, on the open plain near Pilsen. The cavalry charged upon the

seemingly helpless mob. But Ziska was equal to the occasion. He ordered

the women to strew the ground with their gowns and veils, and the

horses' feet becoming entangled in these, numbers of the riders were

thrown, and the trim lines of the troops broken.



Seeing the confusion into which they had been thrown, Ziska gave the

order to charge, and in a short time the army that was to defeat him was

flying in a panic across the plain, a broken and beaten mob. Another

army marched against him, and was similarly defeated; and the citizens

of Prague, finding that no satisfactory terms could be made with the

emperor, recalled Ziska, and entered into alliance with him. The

one-eyed patriot was now lord of the land, all Bohemia being at his beck

and call.



Meanwhile Sigismund, the emperor, was slowly gathering his forces to

invade the rebellious land. The reign of cruelty continued, each side

treating its prisoners barbarously. The Imperialists branded theirs with

a cup, the Hussites theirs with a cross, on their foreheads. The

citizens of Breslau joined those of Prague, and emulated them by

flinging their councillors out of the town-house windows. In return the

German miners of Kuttenberg threw sixteen hundred Hussites down the

mines. Such is religious war, the very climax of cruelty.



In June, 1420, the threatened invasion came. Sigismund led an army, one

hundred thousand strong, into the revolted land, fulminating vengeance

as he marched. He reached Prague and entered the castle of Wisherad,

which commanded it. Ziska fortified the mountain of Witlow (now called

Ziskaberg), which also commanded the city. Sigismund, finding that he

had been outgeneralled, and that his opponent held the controlling

position, waited and temporized, amusing himself meanwhile by assuming

the crown of Bohemia, and sowing dissension in his army by paying the

Slavonian and Hungarian troops with the jewels taken from the royal

palaces and the churches, while leaving the Germans unpaid. The Germans,

furious, marched away. The emperor was obliged to follow. The

ostentatious invasion was at an end, and scarcely a blow had been

struck.



But Sigismund had no sooner gone than trouble arose in Prague. The

citizens, the nobility, and Ziska's followers were all at odds. The

Taborites--those strict republicans and religious reformers who had made

Mount Tabor their head-quarters--were in power, and ruled the city with

a rod of iron, destroying all the remaining splendor of the churches and

sternly prohibiting every display of ostentation by the people. Death

was named as the punishment for such venial faults as dancing, gambling,

or the wearing of rich attire. The wine-cellars were rigidly closed.

Church property was declared public property, and it looked as if

private wealth would soon be similarly viewed. The peasants declared

that it was their mission to exterminate sin from the earth.



This tyranny so incensed the nobles and citizens that they rose in

self-defence, and Ziska, finding that Prague had grown too hot to hold

him, deemed it prudent to lead his men away. Sigismund took immediate

advantage of the opportunity by marching on Prague. But, quick as he

was, there were others quicker. The more moderate section of the

reformers, the so-called Horebites,--from Mount Horeb, another place of

assemblage,--entered the city, led by Hussinez, Huss's former lord, and

laid siege to the royal fortress, the Wisherad. Sigismund attempted to

surprise him, but met with so severe a repulse that he fled into

Hungary, and the Wisherad was forced to capitulate, this ancient palace

and its church, both splendid works of art, being destroyed. Step by

step the art and splendor of Bohemia were vanishing in this despotic

struggle between heresy and the papacy.



As the war went on, Ziska, its controlling spirit, grew steadily more

abhorrent of privilege and distinction, more bitterly fanatical. The

ancient church, royalty, nobility, all excited his wrath. He was

republican, socialist, almost anarchist in his views. His idea of

perfection lay in a fraternity composed of the children of God, while he

trusted to the strokes of the iron flail to bear down all opposition to

his theory of society. The city of Prachaticz treated him with mockery,

and was burnt to the ground, with all its inhabitants. The Bishop of

Nicopolis fell into his hands, and was flung into the river. As time

went on, his war of extermination against sinners--that is, all who

refused to join his banner--grew more cruel and unrelenting. Each city

that resisted was stormed and ruined, its inhabitants slaughtered, its

priests burned. Hussite virtue had degenerated into tyranny of the worst

type. Yet, while thus fanatical himself, Ziska would not permit his

followers to indulge in insane excesses of religious zeal. A party arose

which claimed that the millennium was at hand, and that it was their

duty to anticipate the coming of the innocence of Paradise, by going

naked, like Adam and Eve. These Adamites committed the maddest excesses,

but found a stern enemy in Ziska, who put them down with an unsparing

hand.



In 1421 Sigismund again roused himself to activity, incensed by the

Hussite defiance of his authority. He incited the Silesians to invade

Bohemia, and an army of twenty thousand poured into the land, killing

all before them,--men, women, and children. Yet such was the terror that

the very name of Ziska now excited, that the mere rumor of his approach

sent these invaders flying across the borders.



But, in the midst of his career of triumph, an accident came to the

Bohemian leader which would have incapacitated any less resolute man

from military activity. During the siege of the castle of Raby a

splinter struck his one useful eye and completely deprived him of sight.

It did not deprive him of power and energy. Most men, under such

circumstances, would have retired from army leadership, but John Ziska

was not of that calibre. He knew Bohemia so thoroughly that the whole

land lay accurately mapped out in his mind. He continued to lead his

army, to marshal his men in battle array, to command them in the field

and the siege, despite his blindness, always riding in a carriage, close

to the great standard, and keeping in immediate touch with all the

movements of the war.



Blind as he was, he increased rather than diminished the severity of his

discipline, and insisted on rigid obedience to his commands. As an

instance of this we are told that, on one occasion, having compelled his

troops to march day and night, as was his custom, they murmured and

said,--



"Day and night are the same to you, as you cannot see; but they are not

the same to us."



"How!" he cried. "You cannot see! Well, set fire to a couple of

villages."



The blind warrior was soon to have others to deal with than his Bohemian

foes. Sigismund had sent forward another army, which, in September,

1421, invaded the country. It was driven out by the mere rumor of

Ziska's approach, the soldiers flying in haste on the vague report of

his coming. But in November the emperor himself came, leading a horde of

eighty thousand Hungarians, Servians, and others, savage fellows, whose

approach filled the moderate party of the Bohemians with terror. Ziska's

men had such confidence in their blind chief as to be beyond terror.

They were surrounded by the enemy, and enclosed in what seemed a trap.

But under Ziska's orders they made a night attack on the foe, broke

through their lines, and, to the emperor's discomfiture, were once more

free.



On New Year's day, 1422, the two armies came face to face near Zollin.

Ziska drew up his men in battle array and confidently awaited the attack

of the enemy. But the inflexible attitude of his men, the terror of his

name, or one of those inexplicable influences which sometimes affect

armies, filled the Hungarians with a sudden panic, and they vanished

from the front of the Bohemians without a blow. Once more the emperor

and the army which he had led into the country with such high confidence

of success were in shameful flight, and the terrible example which he

had vowed to make of Bohemia was still unaccomplished.



The blind chief vigorously and relentlessly pursued, overtaking the

fugitives on January 8 near Deutschbrod. Terrified at his approach, they

sought to escape by crossing the stream at that place on the ice. The

ice gave way, and numbers of them were drowned. Deutschbrod was burned

and its inhabitants slaughtered in Ziska's cruel fashion.



This repulse put an end to invasions of Bohemia while Ziska lived. There

were intestine disturbances which needed to be quelled, and then the

army of the reformers was led beyond the boundaries of the country and

assailed the imperial dominions, but the emperor held aloof. He had had

enough of the blind terror of Bohemia, the indomitable Ziska and his

iron-flailed peasants. New outbreaks disturbed Bohemia. Ambitious nobles

aspired to the kingship, but their efforts were vain. The army of the

iron flail quickly put an end to all such hopes.



In 1423 Ziska invaded Moravia and Austria, to keep his troops employed,

and lost severely in doing so. In 1424 his enemies at home again made

head against him, led an army into the field, and pursued him to

Kuttenberg. Here he ordered his men to feign a retreat, then, while the

foe were triumphantly advancing, he suddenly turned, had his

battle-chariot driven furiously down the mountain-side upon their lines,

and during the confusion thus caused ordered an attack in force. The

enemy were repulsed, their artillery was captured, and Kuttenberg set in

flames, as Ziska's signal of triumph.



Shortly afterwards, his enemies at home being thoroughly beaten, the

indomitable blind chief marched upon Prague, the head-quarters of his

foes, and threatened to burn this city to the ground. He might have done

so, too, but for his own men, who broke into sedition at the threat.



Procop, Ziska's bravest captain, advised peace, to put an end to the

disasters of civil war. His advice was everywhere re-echoed, the demand

for peace seemed unanimous, Ziska alone opposing it. Mounting a cask,

and facing his discontented followers, he exclaimed,--



"Fear internal more than external foes. It is easier for a few, when

united, to conquer, than for many, when disunited. Snares are laid for

you; you will be entrapped, but it will not be my fault."



Despite his harangue, however, peace was concluded between the

contending factions, and a large monument raised in commemoration

thereof, both parties heaping up stones. Ziska entered the city in

solemn procession, and was met with respect and admiration by the

citizens. Prince Coribut, the leader of the opposite party and the

aspirant to the crown, came to meet him, embraced him, and called him

father. The triumph of the blind chief over his internal foes was

complete.



It seemed equally complete over his external foes. Sigismund, unable to

conquer him by force of arms, now sought to mollify him by offers of

peace, and entered into negotiations with the stern old warrior. But

Ziska was not to be placated. He could not trust the man who had broken

his plighted word and burned John Huss, and he remained immovable in his

hostility to Germany. Planning a fresh attack on Moravia, he began his

march thither. But now he met a conquering enemy against whose arms

there was no defence. Death encountered him on the route, and carried

him off October 12, 1424.



Thus ends the story of an extraordinary man, and the history of a series

of remarkable events. Of all the peasant outbreaks, of which there were

so many during the mediaeval period, the Bohemian was the only one--if we

except the Swiss struggle for liberty--that attained measurable success.

This was due in part to the fact that it was a religious instead of an

industrial revolt, and thus did not divide the country into sharp ranks

of rich and poor; and in greater part to the fact that it had an able

leader, one of those men of genius who seem born for great occasions.

John Ziska, the blind warrior, leading his army to victory after

victory, stands alone in the gallery of history. There were none like

him, before or after.



He is pictured as a short, broad-shouldered man, with a large, round,

and bald head. His forehead was deeply furrowed, and he wore a long

moustache of a fiery red hue. This, with his blind eye and his final

complete blindness, yields a well-defined image of the man, that

fanatical, remorseless, indomitable, and unconquerable avenger of the

martyred Huss, the first successful opponent of the doctrines of the

church of Rome whom history records.



The conclusion of the story of the Hussites may be briefly given. For

years they held their own, under two leaders, known as Procop Holy and

Procop the Little, defying the emperor, and at times invading the

empire. The pope preached a crusade against them, but the army of

invasion was defeated, and Silesia and Austria were invaded in reprisal

by Procop Holy.



Seven years after the death of Ziska an army of invasion again entered

Bohemia, so strong in numbers that it seemed as if that war-drenched

land must fall before it. In its ranks were one hundred and thirty

thousand men, led by Frederick of Brandenburg. Their purposes were seen

in their actions. Every village reached was burned, till two hundred had

been given to the flames. Horrible excesses were committed. On August

14, 1431, the two armies, the Hussite and the Imperialist, came face to

face near Tauss. The disproportion in numbers was enormous, and it

looked as if the small force of Bohemians would be swallowed up in the

multitude of their foes. But barely was the Hussite banner seen in the

distance when the old story was told over again, the Germans broke into

sudden panic, and fled en masse from the field. The Bavarians were the

first to fly, and all the rest speedily followed. Frederick of

Brandenburg and his troops took refuge in a wood. The Cardinal Julian,

who had preached a crusade against Bohemia, succeeded for a time in

rallying the fugitives, but at the first onset of the Hussites they

again took to flight, suffering themselves to be slaughtered without

resistance. The munitions of war were abandoned to the foe, including

one hundred and fifty cannon.



It was an extraordinary affair, but in truth the flight was less due to

terror than to disinclination of the German soldiers to fight the

Hussites, whose cause they deemed to be just and glorious, and the

influence of whose opinions had spread far beyond the Bohemian border.

Rome was losing its hold over the mind of northern Europe outside the

limits of the land of Huss and Ziska.



Negotiations for peace followed. The Bohemians were invited to Basle,

being granted a safe-conduct, and promised free exercise of their

religion coming and going, while no words of ridicule or reproach were

to be permitted. On January 9, 1433, three hundred Bohemians, mounted on

horseback, entered Basle, accompanied by an immense multitude. It was a

very different entrance from that of Huss to Constance, nearly twenty

years before, and was to have a very different termination. Procop Holy

headed the procession, accompanied by others of the Bohemian leaders. A

signal triumph had come to the party of religious reform, after twenty

years of struggle.



For fifty days the negotiations continued. Neither side would yield. In

the end, the Bohemians, weary of the protracted and fruitless debate,

took to their horses again, and set out homewards. This brought their

enemies to terms. An embassy was hastily sent after them, and all their

demands were conceded, though with certain reservations that might prove

perilous in the future. They went home triumphant, having won freedom of

religious worship according to their ideas of right and truth.



They had not long reached home when dissensions again broke out. The

emperor took advantage of them, accepted the crown of Bohemia, entered

Prague, and at once reinstated the Catholic religion. The fanatics flew

to arms, but after a desperate struggle were annihilated. The Bohemian

struggle was at an end. In the following year the emperor Sigismund

died, having lived just long enough to win success in his long conflict.

The martyrdom of Huss, the valor and zeal of Ziska, appeared to have

been in vain. Yet they were not so, for the seeds they had sown bore

fruit in the following century in a great sectarian revolt which

affected all Christendom and permanently divided the Church.