To the Reader
M T. HARRIS, LL.D.
Commissioner of Education
My Dear Doctor:--
This translation, of one of the greatest novels of Poland's foremost
modern writer, Henryk Sienkiewicz, I beg to dedicate to you. Apart for my
high personal regard for you, my reason for selecting you among all my
literary friends, is: that you are a historian and philosopher, and can
therefore best appreciate works of this kind.
SAMUEL A. BINION,
New York City.
To the Reader.
Here you have, gentle reader--old writers always called you
gentle--something very much more than a novel to amuse an idle hour. To
read it will be enjoyable pastime, no doubt; but the brilliant romance of
the brilliant author calls upon you for some exercise of the finest
sympathy and intelligence; sympathy for a glorious nation which, with
only one exception, has suffered beyond all other nations; intelligence,
of the sources of that unspeakable and immeasurable love and of the great
things that may yet befall before those woes are atoned for and due
punishment for them meted out to their guilty authors.
Poland! Poland! The very name carries with it sighings and groanings,
nation-murder, brilliance, beauty, patriotism, splendors, self-sacrifice
through generations of gallant men and exquisite women; indomitable
endurance of bands of noble people carrying through world-wide exile the
sacred fire of wrath against the oppressor, and uttering in every clime a
cry of appeal to Humanity to rescue Poland.
It was indeed a terrible moment in history, when the three military
monarchies of Europe, Russia, Austria and Prussia, swooped down upon the
glorious but unhappy country, torn by internal trouble, and determined to
kill it and divide up its dominions. All were alike guilty, as far as
motive went. But Holy Russia--Holy!--since that horrible time has taken
upon herself by far the greatest burden of political crime in her
dealings with that noble nation. Every evil passion bred of despotism, of
theological hatred, of rancorous ancient enmities, and the ghastliest
official corruption, have combined in Russian action for more than one
hundred and fifty years, to turn Poland into a hell on earth. Her very
language was proscribed.
This is not the place to give details of that unhappy country's woes. But
suffice it to say, that Poland, in spite of fatuous prohibitions, has had
a great literature since the loss of her independence, and that
literature has so kept alive the soul of the nation, that with justice
Poland sings her great patriotic song:
"Poland is not yet lost
As long as we live...."
The nation is still alive in its writers and their works, their splendid
poetry and prose.
It is a pity that so few of these great writers are widely known. But
most people have heard of Jan Kochanowski, of Mikolaj Rey, of Rubinski,
of Szymanowicz, of Poland's great genius in this century, one of the
supreme poets of the world, Adam Mickiewicz, of Joseph Ignac, of
Kraszewski, who is as prolific in literary and scientific works as
Alexander von Humboldt, and of hundreds of others in all branches of
science and art, too numerous to mention here.
And it is remarkable that the author of this book, Henryk Sienkiewicz,
should of late have attained such prominence in the public eye and found
a place in the heart of mankind. It is of good omen. Thus, Poland, in
spite of her fetters, is keeping step in the very van of the most
progressive nations.
The romance of Sienkiewicz in this volume is perhaps the most interesting
and fascinating he has yet produced. It is in the very first rank of
imaginative and historical romance. The time and scene of the noble story
are laid in the middle ages during the conquest of Pagan Lithuania by the
military and priestly order of the "Krzyzacy" Knights of the Cross. And
the story exhibits with splendid force the collision of race passions and
fierce, violent individualities which accompanied that struggle. Those
who read it will, in addition to their thrilling interest in the tragical
and varied incidents, gain no little insight into the origin and working
of the inextinguishable race hatred between Teuton and Slav. It was an
unfortunate thing surely, that the conversion of the heathen Lithuanians
and Zmudzians was committed so largely to that curious variety of the
missionary, the armed knight, banded in brotherhood, sacred and military.
To say the least, his sword was a weapon dangerous to his evangelizing
purpose. He was always in doubt whether to present to the heathen the one
end of it, as a cross for adoration, or the other, as a point _to kill
with_. And so, if Poland _was_ made a Catholic nation, she was also made
an undying and unalterable hater of the German, the Teutonic name and
person.
And so this noble, historical tale, surpassed perhaps by none in
literature, is commended to the thoughtful attention and appreciation of
the reader.
SAMUEL A. BINION.
NEW YORK, May 9, 1899.
KNIGHTS OF THE CROSS.
Content of To the Reader [Henryk Sienkiewicz's novel: The Knights of the Cross]
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Table of content of Knights of the Cross
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