THE PASSION OF THE HOLY MARTYRS
BORIS AND GLEB
At the death of Vladimir (1015), power
disputes between his sons led to the defeat of the eldest (Sviatopolk),
who had meanwhile ordered the assassination of two of his younger
brothers, Boris and Gleb. The story is told in the Narrative
and
Passion and Encomium of the Holy Martyrs Boris and Gleb, which was written in the mid-eleventh century,
more than 50 years after the events. The winner in the power struggle following
Vladimir's death was Iaroslav the Wise, and he gets a very good press
in the Narrative and Passion.
The author of the text is
unknown, but
he seems to have worked for Iaroslav, possibly during his reign
(1036-1054), for he took great care to depict the prince as the
rightful exactor of the revenge for his brothers' death. A Scandinavian
saga, Eymundar thattr Hringssonar
(which survives in a late fourteenth century manuscript from Iceland)
suggests a different solution. Eymundar is said to have fled his native
Norway and traveled to Rus', hoping to be hired as a mercenary by one
of three warring princes, all three sons of King Valdimar (Vladimir).
He was taken on by Jarislafr (Iaroslav) and he helped the prince defeat
his brother Burislafr (Boris?) who was ruling in Kiev. The sage
specifically makes Eymundar and his men responsible for the murder of
Burislafr. Whatever the true behind Boris and Gleb's assassination, the
author of the Narrative and Passion
was apparently acquainted with at least one of the works dealing
with St. Wenceslas and perhaps with the Life of Constantine and the
Life of Methodius as well.
According to the Narrative and Passion, following
the death of Boris and Gleb, their remains were placed in wooden
coffins and a small chapel was erected on the grave site. Following his victory over a rival prince
of Polotsk, Iaroslav's son Iziaslav ordered the remains of Boris and
Gleb to be dug up and placed in stone sarcophagi. Around 1072, the
remains were moved into a new church erected in Vyshgorod, near Kiev,
and Boris and Gleb gained formal
recognition as saints, thus becoiming the first Rus' saints of the
Church. Since they were technically not martyrs, emphasis was placed on
healing miracles performed at the grave site. The Narrative and Passion is the most
popular and oldest East Slavic saintly biography. Translation from Marvin Kantor, Medieval
Slavic
Lives of Saints and Princes (Ann
Arbor, 1983), pp. 166-253.
The generation of the righteous shall be blessed, said the prophet, and
their seed shall be blessed. Thus, these things came to pass before the
time when the autocrat of the entire land of Rus' was Volodimir
[Vladimir], sone of Sviatoslav and grandson of Igor, he who enlightened
this entire land with holy baptism. [...] Now this Volodimir had twelve
sons, not by one wife, but by their several mothers. Among these sons,
Vysheslav was the eldest, and after him came Iziaslav. The third was
Sviatopolk, who conceived this evil murder. His mother, a Greek, was
formerly a nun, and Iaropolk, Volodimir's brother, took her, and
because of the beauty of her face, he unfrocked her, and begot of her
this accursed Sviatopolk. But Volodimir, who was still a pagan, killed
Iaropolk and took his wife, who was pregnant; and of her was born this
accursed Sviatopolk. And he was of two fathers who were brothers, and
for this reason Volodimir loved him not, for he was not of him. And by
Rogneda he had four sons: Iziaslav, Mstislav, Iaroslav, and Vsevolod;
and by another he had Sviatoslav and Mstislav, and by a Bulgarian
woman, Boris and Gleb. And he placed them all in different lands as
rulers. [....] He placed the accursed Sviatopolk as ruler in Pinsk, and
Iaroslav in Novgorod, Boris in Rostov, and Gleb in Murom.
[...]
And a messenger came to him [to Boris], informing him of his father's
death: how his father Vasilii--for that was the name given to him in
holy baptism--had passed away, and how Sviatopolk had concealed the
death of his father, and at night in Berestovo [an estate near Kiev,
which belonged to Vladimir], after taking up the floor and wrapping him
in a rug, they had lowered him to the ground with ropes, took him by
sledge and placed him in the Church of the Holy Mother of God. And when
the saintly Boris heard this he grew weak in the body and his entire
face was covered with tears. And being choked with tears, he could not
speak, but in his heart he began to speak thusly: "Woe unto me, light
of my eyes, radiance and dawn of my face, bridle of my youth,
admonition of my foolishness! Woe unto me, my father and lord! To whom
shall I turn, to whom shall I look, where shall I sate myself with the
good instruction and admonitions of your understanding? Woe unto me,
woe unto me! [...] My heart burns, my soul confuses my mind, and I know
not to whom to turn, and to whom to show this bitter sorrow. To the
brother whom I would have in place of a father? But he, methinks, has
learned worldly vanities and contemplates my murder. If he sheds my
blood and attempts to slay me, then a martyr shall I be unto my Lord.
For I shall not resist, it is written: "God resisteth the proud, but
giveth grace unto the humble" [James 4:6][...] Therefore, what shall I
say or what shall I do? Lo, shall I go to my brother and say, "Be a
father to me. You are my brother and elder. What is your command, my
lord?"" And musing thus in his mind, he set off to his brother, and he
said in his heart: "Were I at least to see the face of my younger
brother Gleb, as Joseph did Benjamin."
[...]
Now after his father's death, Sviatopolk had settled in Kiev. Upon
summoning the people of Kiev and giving them many gifts, he dismissed
them. Then he sent to Boris, saying: "Brother, I wish there to be love
between us and shall add to your share of father's possessions." But he
spoke deceitfully and not the truth. He came secretly at night to
Vyshegorod [Vyshhorod, a town just north of Kiev], summon Put'sha and
the men of Vyshegorod, and said to them: "Tell me in truth, are you
loyal to me?" And Put'sha said: "We all are ready to lay down our lives
for you."
But the Devil, that hater of man's goodness from the beginning of time,
upon seeing the saintly Boris had place all his hope in the Lord, began
to be even more active. And as once before he found Cain ablaze with
fratricide, so now he found in truth a second Cain in Sviatopolk, and
snared his thought, that he should kill all his father's heirs and
seize all power for himself alone. Then the thrice-accursed Sviatopolk
summoned to himself the counselors of all evil and the chiefs of all
untruth, and upon opening his lips most foul, he emitted an evil voice,
saying to Put'sha's people: "Since you promised to lay down your lives
for me, go in secret, my friends, and where you find my brother Boris,
watch for an opportunity and slay him." And they promised to do so.
[...]
Now, upon returning, the blessed Boris pitches his tents on the L'to
[Al'ta River, a tributary of the Trubezh River, to the southeast from
Kiev]. And his retinue said to him: "Go, settle in Kiev on your
father's throne, for all the troops are in your hands." But he answered
them: "It is not for me to raise my hand against my own brother, and
especially against an elder one whom I would have as a father." And
when they heard this, the troops departed from him, and he remained
with only his retainers. On the Sabbath day he was in distress and
grief, and his heart was oppressed. And he entred his tent and wept
with a broken heart but a joyful soul, sorrowfully lifting his voice:
"Despise not my tears, o Lord. For as I have my hope in Thee, so shall
I, together with Thy servants, acccept my portion and lot with all Thy
holy ones, for Thou art a merciful God, and unto Thee shall we render
praise forever. Amen." He thought of the martyrdom and passion of the
holy martyr Nikita [a Gothic martyr of the fourth century] and of Saint
Viacheslav [Wenceslas, the prince of the Czechs], whose murders were
similar to this [...].
Then evening came. And he commanded that Vespers be chanted and he
himself entered his tent and began to say the evening prayer with
bitter tears, frequent sighs and much groaning. Afterwards he lay down
to sleep. [...] Upon awakening early, he saw it was the time of
morning: it was holy Sunday. He said to his presbyter: "Arise, begin
Matins." And having put shoes on his feet and having washed his face,
he himself began to pray to the Lord God. But those sent by Sviatopolk
had arrived on the L'to during the night, and drawing near they heard
the voice of the blessed martyr chanting the morning psalter.[...] And
at that moment he saw those running toward the tent, the flash of
weapons and the unsheathing of swords. And the venerable body of the
most merciful Boris, Christ's holy and blessed martyr, was pierced
without mercy. Those who stabbed him with lances were the accursed
Put'sha, Tal'ts, Elovich, and Liash'ko. [...] Then looking at them with
tender eyes and a downcast face, and bathed in tears he said:
"Brethren, end the service you have begun; and peace be unto my
brother, and unto you, my brethren." [...] And at that moment he passed
away, and delivered his soul into the hands of the living God, in the
month of July, on the twenty-fourth day, the ninth day before the
calends of August [July 24, 1015].
And they slew many retainers. But since they could not remove the
necklace from George, they cut off his head and tossed him aside, and
for that reason his body could be recognized later. Upon wrapping the
blessed Boris in a tent flap and laying him in a wagon, they drove off.
And when they were in a pine forest, he began to raise his holy head.
Learning of this, Sviatopolk sent two Varangians, and they pierced him
through the heart with a sword. Thus he expired and received a crown
everlasting. After having brought him to Vyshgorod, they laid his body
in the earth and buried it near the Church of St. Vasilii.
[...]
Having put this in his mind, that evil counselor the Devil summoned the
blessed Gleb, saying: "Come quickly, your father summons you and is
very sick." He quickly mounted his horse and set off with a small
retinue. And when he came to the Volga, the horse beneath him stumbled
over a rut in the field and slightly injured his leg. And he came to
Smolensk, and went on from Smolensk, and within viewing distance
therefrom he boarded a small vessel on the Smiadin' [a river in the
Smolensk region]. At that time, news of his father's death reached
Iaroslav from Predslava [Iaroslav's sister]. And Iaroslav sent a
message to Gleb: "Do not go, brother, your father has died, and your
brother has been murdered by Sviatopolk." Upon hearing this, the
blessed one cried out with bitter weeping and heartfelt grief: "O woe
unto me, my Lord! With twofold weeping, I weep and moan, with twofold
grief I grieve and groan. Woe unto me, woe unto me!I weep greatly for
my father, but I weep even more and have despaired for you, my brother
and lord Boris. [...] And so, as he was groaning and weeping, and
wetting the earth with his tears, and calling upon God with frequent
sighs, those sent by Sviatopolk suddenly arrived--those evil servants
of his, merciless bloodsuckers, the fiercest of fratricides, having the
sould of savage beasts. The saintly one had set of in a small vessel,
and they met him at the mouth of the Smiadin. And when he saw them, he
rejoiced in his soul; but they, upon seeing him, were covered with
gloom and rowed toward him. And he expected to receive greetings from
them. But when they drew alongside, the evil ones began to leap into
his boat with bared swords in their hands, which glittered like the
water. And immediately the oars fell from all hands, and all were numb
with fear. When the blessed one saw this, he understood they wished to
kill him. He gazed at them, with tender eyes, his face bathed in tears,
broken in heart, humbled in mind, frequently sighing, choked with
tears, and weakened in body, and he lifted his voice in sorrow: "Let me
be, my precious and dear brethren, for I have done you no evil! Leave
me alone, brethren and lords, leave me alone! What wrong have I done my
brother and you, my brehtern and lords? If there be some wrong, take me
to your prince, to my brother and lord. Have mercy on my youth, have
mercy, my lords! You are my lords, I your slave. Reap me not from a
life unripened; reap not the ear of grain still unripe but bearing the
milk of innocence. [...}" But not a single word of this shamed them in
any way, and like savage beasts they seized him. [...] Then looking at
them, he said with a dejected voice and choking throat: "You have
already done this in your thoughts; now that you have come, do what you
are sent for." Then the accursed Goriaser ordered them so lay him
quickly. Gleb's cook, Torchin by name, drew a knife, and seizing the
blessed one, slaughtered him like a meek and innocent lamb. It was in
the month of September, on the fifth day, on Monday.
[...]
After Gleb had been slain, he was cast in a deserted place between two
hollowed-out tree trunks. [...] And though the saintly one lay there a
long time, he remained entirely unharmed, for He left him not in
oblivion and neglect but gave signs: now a pillar of fire was seen, now
burning candles. Moreover, merchants passing by on the way would hear
the singing of angels; and others, hunters and shepherds, also saw and
heard these things. It did not occur to anyone to search for the body
of the saintly one until Iaroslav, unable to bear this evil murder,
moved against that fratricide, the accursed Sviatopolk, and fought many
battles with him and was always victorious, with the aid of God and the
help of the saintly ones. And as many battles as he waged, the accursed
one always returned shamed and defeated. Finally, this thrice-accursed
one attacked with a horde of Pechenegs. And having gathered troops,
Iaroslav went forth against him, to the L'to river, and he halted at
the place where the saintly Boris was slain. [...] They advanced
against one another, and the field of the L'to was covered with a
multitude of troops. [...]Toward evening Iaroslav triumphed and the
accursed Sviatopolk fled. [...] And he could not endure being in one
place, and fled through the land of the Liakhs [Poland], pursed by the
wrath of God. He fled into the wilderness between the lands of the
Czechs and Liakhs and there forfeited his life in an evil manner.
[...]An his grave exists even to this day, and from it issues an evil
stench for the edification of men.
[...]
And from then on discord ceased in the land of Rus'; and Iaroslav
aasumed all power over it. And he began to inquire about the bodies of
the saintly ones, how and where they were placed. And about the saintly
Boris he was informed that he was placed in Vyshegorod; but about the
saintly Gleb they knew nothing, as he had been slain in Smolensk. Then
they told him what was heard from those coming from there--that they
had seen a light and candles in a deserted place. And upon hearing
this, he sent presbyters to Smolensk to search, saying: "That is my
brother." And they found him where those things were seen. And they
came with crosses and many candles and censers, and with great
reverence placed him in a vessel. And upon arriving, they laid him in
Vyshegorod, where also the body of the most blessed Boris lay. [...]
For lo, it was most miraculous and wondrous, and worthy of memory, that
though the body of the saintly one had lain for many year, it was
harmed by no beast of prey, nor had it turned black as bodies of the
dead usually do. Rather it was radiant, and beautiful, and whole, and
it had a pleasing fragrance. Thus had God preseved the body of His
martyr.
[...]
But can I relate everything or tell of the miracles which occur? In
truth, the entire earth cannot hold the most wondrous miracles which
take place, for they are more numerous than the sand of the sea. And
not only there, but in all the countries and in all the lands through
which they pass, they cast out disease and illness, and visit those in
prison and in fetters. and at the place where they were made worthy of
the crowns of martyrs, churches were built in their names, and there
too they do good and work many miracles.