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.