a more magnificent
array.

Mamai, the Tartar khan, had assembled the horde, in numbers which he
deemed overwhelming, on the waters of the Don. Resolved not to await
the irruption of the foe, on the 20th of August, Dmitri, with his
army, crossed the Oka, and pressed forward towards the valley of the
Don. They reached this stream on the 6th of September. Soon
detachments of the advanced guards of the two armies met, and several
skirmishes ensued. Dmitri assembled his generals in solemn conclave,
and saying to them, "The hour of God's judgment has sounded," gave
minute directions for the conflict. Aided by a dense fog, which
concealed their operations from the view of the enemy, the army
crossed the Don, the cavalry fording the stream, while the infantry
passed over by a hastily-constructed bridge. Dmitri deployed his
columns in battle array upon the vast plain of Koulikof. A mound of
earth was thrown up, that Dmitri, upon its summit, might overlook the
whole plain.

As the Russian prince stood upon this pyramid and contemplated his
army, there was spread before him such a spectacle as mortal eyes
have seldom seen. A hundred and fifty thousand men were marshaled on
the plain. It was the morning of the 8th of September, 1380. Thousands
of banners fluttered in the breeze. The polished armor of the
cavaliers, cuirass, spear and helmet, glittered in the rays of the
sun. Seventy-five thousand steeds, gorgeously caparisoned, were
neighing and prancing over the verdant savanna. The soldiers,
according to their custom, shouted the prayer, which rose like the
roar of many waters, "Great God, grant to our sovereign the victory."
The whole sublime scene moved the soul of Dmitry to its profoundest
depths; and as he reflected that in a few hours perhaps the greater
portion of that multitude might lie dead upon the field, tears gushed
from his eyes, and kneeling upon the summit of the mound, in the
presence of the whole army, he extended his hands towards heaven in a
fervent prayer that God would protect Russia and Christianity from the
heel of the infidel. Then, mounting his horse, he rode along the
ranks, exclaiming,

"My brothers dearly beloved; my faithful companions in arms: by your
exploits this day you will live for ever in the memory of men; and
those of you who fall will find, beyond the tomb, the crown of
martyrs."

The Tartar host approached upon the boundless plain slowly and
cautiously, but in numbers even exceeding