And—­listen to the language of a proud Russian Prince at the Court of the Great Khan:  “Lord—­all-powerful Tsar, if I have done aught against you, I come hither to receive life or death.  I am ready for either.  Do with me as God inspires you.”  Or still another:  “My Lord and master, by thy mercy hold I my principality—­with no title but thy protection and investiture—­thy yarlik; while my uncle claims it not by your favor but by right!” It was such pleading as this that succeeded; so it is easy to see how Princes at last vied with each other in being abject.  In this particular case the presumptuous uncle was ordered to lead his victorious nephew’s horse by the bridle, on his way to his coronation at Moscow.  So the path to success was through the dust, and it was the wily Princes of Moscow that most patiently traveled that road with important results to Russia.

Novgorod, as we have said, had alone escaped from these degradations.  Her Prince Alexander was son of Yaroslaf, the Grand Prince who perished in the desert on his way home.  At the time of the invasion Alexander was leading an army against the Swedes and the Livonian Knights in defense of his Baltic provinces.  It was Latin Christianity versus Greek, and by a great victory upon the banks of the Neva he earned undying fame and the surname of Nevski.  Alexander Nevski is remembered as the hero of the Neva and of the North; yet even he was finally compelled to grovel at the feet of the barbarians.  Novgorod alone had stood erect, had paid no tribute and offered no homage to the Khan.  At last, when its destruction was at hand, thirty-six years after the invasion, Nevski had the heroism to submit to the inevitable.  He advised a surrender.  It needed a soul of iron to brave the indignation of the republic.  “He offers us servitude!” they cried.  The Posadnik who conveyed the counsel to the Vetche was murdered on the spot.  But Alexander persisted, and he prevailed.  His own son refused to share his father’s disgrace, and left the state.  Again and again the people withdrew the consent they had given.  Better might Novgorod perish!  But finally, when Alexander Nevski declared that he would go, that he would leave them to their fate, they yielded, and the Mongols came into a silent city, passing from house to house making lists of the inhabitants who must pay tribute.

Then the unhappy Prince went to prostrate himself before the Khan at Sarai.  But his heart had broken with his spirit.  He had saved his state, but the task had been too heavy for him.  He died from exhaustion on his journey home (1260).

On account of internal convulsions in the Great Tatar Empire, now united by Kublai-Khan, the fourth in succession from Genghis-Khan, the Golden-Horde had separated from the parent state, and its Khan was absolute ruler of Russia.  So from this time the ceremony of investiture was performed at Sarai; and the humiliating pilgrimages of the Princes were made to that city.