September 12.
At sunrise of the 12th September, the crest of the Kahlenberg was
concealed by one of those autumnal mists which give promise of a
genial, perhaps a sultry day, and which, clinging to the wooded flanks
of the acclivity, grew denser as it descended, till it rested heavily
on the shores and the stream itself of the river below. From that
summit the usual fiery signals of distress had been watched through
the night by many an eye as they rose incessantly from the tower of
St. Stephen, and now the fretted spire of that edifice, so long the
target of the ineffectual fire of the Turkish artillerists, was faintly
distinguished rising from a sea of mist. As the hour wore on, and the
exhalation dispersed, a scene was disclosed which must have made those
who witnessed it from the Kahlenberg tighten their saddle-girths or
look to their priming. A practised eye glancing over the fortifications
of the city could discern from the Burg to the Scottish gate an
interruption of their continuity, a shapeless interval of rubbish and
of ruin, which seemed as if a battalion might enter it abreast. In face
of this desolation a labyrinth of lines extended itself, differing in
design from the rectilinear zigzag of a modern approach, and formed
of short curves overlapping each other, to use a comparison of some
writers of the time, like the scales of a fish. In these, the Turkish
lines, the miner yet crawled to his task, and the storming parties
were still arrayed by order of the Vizier, ready for a renewal of the
assault so often repeated in vain. The camp behind had been evacuated
by the fighting men; the horse-tails had been plucked from before
the tents of the Pachas, but their harems still tenanted the canvass
city; masses of Christian captives awaited there their doom in chains;
camels and drivers and camp followers still peopled the long streets of
tents in all the confusion of fear and suspense. Nearer to the base
of the hilly range of the Kahlenberg and the Leopoldsberg, the still
imposing numbers of the Turkish army were drawn up in battle array
ready to dispute the egress of the Christian columns from the passes,
and prevent their deployment on the plain. To the westward, on the
reverse flank of the range, the Christian troops might be seen toiling
up the ascent. As they drew up on the crest of the Leopoldsberg they
formed a half circle round the chapel of the Margrave, and when the
bell for matins tolled, the clang of arms and the noises of the march
were silenced. On a space kept clear round the chapel a standard with
a white cross on a red ground was unfurled, as if to bid defiance to
the blood red flag planted in front of the tent of Kara Mustapha. One
shout of acclamation and defiance broke out from the modern crusaders
as this emblem of a holy war was displayed, and all again was hushed
as the gates of the castle were flung open, and a procession of the
Princes of the Empire and the other leaders of the Christian host moved
forward to the chapel. It was headed by one whose tonsured crown and
venerable beard betokened the monastic profession. The soldiers crossed
themselves as he passed, and knelt to receive the blessing which
he gave them with outstretched hands. This was the famous Capuchin
Marco Aviano, friend and confessor to the Emperor, whose acknowledged
piety and exemplary life had earned for him the general reputation
of prophetic inspiration. He had been the inseparable companion of
the Christian army in its hours of difficulty and danger, and was now
here to assist at the consummation of his prayers for its success.
Among the stately warriors who composed his train, three principally
attracted the gaze of the curious. The first in rank and station was
a man somewhat past the prime of life, strong limbed and of imposing
stature, but quick and lively in speech and gesture, his head partly
shaved in the fashion of his semi-Eastern country, his hair, eyes,
and beard, dark-coloured. His majestic bearing bespoke the soldier
king, the scourge and dread of the Moslem, the conqueror of Choczim,
John Sobieski. His own attire is said to have been plain, but we
gather from his letters that in his retinue he displayed a Sclavonic
taste for magnificence which strongly contrasted with the economical
arrangements of Lorraine, and even of the two Electors. Painters, and
others studious of accuracy, may be glad to know that on this occasion
the colour of his dress was sky blue, and that he rode a bay horse. An
attendant bearing a shield, with his arms emblazoned, always preceded
him, and his place in battle was marked by another who carried a plume
on his lance point, a signal more conspicuous, though less inseparable,
than the famous white plume of Henry IV. On his left was his youthful
son Prince James, armed with a breastplate and helmet, and, in addition
to an ordinary sword, with a short and broad-bladed sabre, a national
weapon of former ages; on his right was the illustrious and heroic
ancestor of the present reigning house of Austria, Charles of Lorraine.
Behind these moved many of the principal members of those sovereign
houses of Germany whose names and titles have been already specified.
At the side of Louis of Baden walked a youth of slender frame and
moderate stature, but with that intelligence in his eye which pierced
in after years the cloud of many a doubtful field, and swayed the
fortunes of empires. This was the young Eugene of Savoy, who drew his
maiden sword in the quarrel in which his brother had lately perished.
The service of high mass was performed in the chapel by Aviano, the
King assisting at the altar, while the distant thunder of the Turkish
batteries formed strange accompaniment to the Christian choir. The
Princes then received the sacrament, and the religious ceremony was
closed by a general benediction of the troops by Aviano. The King then
stepped forward and conferred knighthood on his son, with the usual
ceremonies, commending to him as an example for his future course the
great commander then present, the Duke of Lorraine. He then addressed
his troops in their own language to the following effect:—“Warriors
and friends! Yonder in the plain are our enemies, in numbers greater
indeed than at Choczim, where we trod them under foot. We have to fight
them on a foreign soil, but we fight for our own country, and under the
walls of Vienna we are defending those of Warsaw and Cracow. We have to
save to-day, not a single city, but the whole of Christendom, of which
that city of Vienna is the bulwark. The war is a holy one. There is a
blessing on our arms, and a crown of glory for him who falls. You fight
not for your earthly sovereign, but for the King of kings. His power
has led you unopposed up the difficult access to these heights, and
has thus placed half the victory in your hands. The infidels see you
now above their heads; and with hopes blasted and courage depressed,
are creeping among valleys destined for their graves. I have but one
command to give,—follow me. The time is come for the young to win
their spurs.” Military music and the shouts of thousands greeted this
pertinent harangue, and as it closed, five cannon shots gave the signal
for the general advance. A sharp fire of musketry from the small hamlet
of Kahlenberg near Nussdorf soon announced that the left wing, under
the immediate command of the Duke of Lorraine, had felt the enemy,
and it increased as his attack developed itself towards Heiligenstadt
and Döbling. The centre, commanded by the Elector of Bavaria and the
Prince of Waldeck, moved upon Währing and Weinhaus. The right wing,
under the King of Poland, issued from the woods near Dornbach. There
is no doubt that the general disposal of the confederated forces was
entirely arranged by the King. His rank alone would have entitled
him to a nominal precedency, which, even in the case of an ordinary
sovereign, it would have been convenient to admit; for, previously to
his arrival in the camp, disputes had already arisen between Saxony
and Bavaria, and Vienna might have been taken twice over before such
disputes between German sovereigns could have been settled. The respect
however in which John Sobieski’s military talents were held, his vast
experience of the Turkish manner of fighting, and the dread which his
presence was known to inspire amongst that people, were such as to
obtain a ready and real acquiescence in his slightest suggestions, so
long as the difficulty lasted and the danger was imminent. His order
of battle was a deep one. To avoid so great an extension of front as
would have compelled him to throw his right flank beyond the little
river Wien instead of keeping that stream on his right, he adopted a
formation in three lines, the third acting as a reserve. The troops
were strictly directed to preserve their ranks on the approach of
the enemy, and halt to receive his fire and return their own; then
to advance steadily, and make good the ground so gained—the infantry
gradually developing itself to the right and left, and allowing the
cavalry to fill up the intervals, and take its full share in the
further advance, charging as opportunity should offer.
The first operation of Kara Mustapha was worthy of one in whom the
cruelty was united with the ignorance of the savage—it was the
slaughter of the defenceless captives of all ages and either sex, with
whom, to the number it is said of 30,000, his camp was crowded. It was
obeyed to the letter; and even the inmates of the soldiers’ harems,
women far different in morals from the courtezans of the Christian
camp, are said to have perished. The command of the right wing, which
occupied strong and broken ground opposite the Duke of Lorraine, was
intrusted to the Pacha of Mesopotamia. The Vizier himself commanded
in the centre opposite Währing, and the left wing opposite Hernals
was commanded by the old Pacha of Pesth. The cavalry were in advance
towards the base of the Kahlenberg. The hollow ways between Nussdorf
and Heiligenstadt were strongly entrenched and fiercely defended.
It was, as has been noticed, the original intention of the king to
content himself on this day with the descent of the acclivity and
the establishment of the army in favourable order and position for
a general action on the morrow, and he had agreed upon this course
with Lorraine, but the fierceness of the struggle on the left of the
allies drew his forces gradually to its support, and brought on a
more immediate decision. To descend the wooded acclivities without
deranging the scientific order of battle devised and adopted was an
operation only less tedious and difficult than the ascent of the
preceding days, and it was to be performed in the presence of an
enemy for courage and numbers not to be despised. The left wing was
engaged for some hours before the Bavarians in the centre or the Poles
on the right could deploy. The defence of the broken ground near
Nussdorf and Heiligenstadt on the part of the Turks was obstinate,
but having occupied in haste and too late their present position at
the foot of the heights, they had not brought up their artillery,
and their dismounted cavalry, of which the troops here engaged were
principally composed, were not a match for the Imperialists, who drove
the enemy steadily before them from ravine to ravine, and carried the
two villages. It is probable that Lorraine, adhering to the original
scheme of action, might have contented himself with this success for
the day, and it is not certain at what period of the action a contrary
and bolder determination first suggested itself to either the King or
himself. The Duke is said to have consulted at a critical period the
Saxon Field-Marshal Geltz, who, observing the progress of the Bavarians
and Poles towards the centre and right, gave it for his opinion that
the Duke might sleep that night if he would in Vienna. Eugene of Savoy
was employed during the action in conveying a message from Lorraine
to the King. We may indulge ourselves with the conjecture that he was
charged with this decision, one worthy of such a messenger. Accounts
differ as to the hour at which the action became general by the
deployment of the Bavarians and Poles. Some put it as late as two P. M.
It is said, however, that towards eleven o’clock the Imperialists on
the left were slackening their advance to make good the ground they
had gained, and to wait for the appearance of their friends, when the
gilded cuirasses of the Polish cavalry flashed out from the defiles of
the Wenersberg, and the shout of “Live Sobieski” ran along the lines.
The heat was oppressive, and the King halted and dismounted his people
for a hasty repast. This concluded, the whole line advanced, and the
battle soon raged in every part of an amphitheatre admirably adapted
by nature for such a transaction. The Turks had profited by the lull
to bring up heavy reinforcements, and the Vizier flung himself on the
Poles in very superior numbers. In an early part of the encounter, a
body of Polish Hulans compromised itself by a rash advance, and was
for a time surrounded. It was extricated by the prompt and judicious
assistance of Waldeck and his Bavarians, but lost many officers of
distinction, and among them, a Potocki, the treasurer Modrjewski, and
the Colonel Ahasuerus. The second line was brought up by Sobieski, and
the Turks were driven before their desperate valour through ravines and
villages, and the fortified position of Hernals, back upon the glacis
of their camp. The city of tents with all its treasures was almost
within their grasp; but it is said that even with such a spectacle
before him, Sobieski’s caution all but induced him to pause till the
morrow. The approach to the camp was protected by a ravine, the ground
in front was undulating and strengthened with works, and occupied by
a strong force and a powerful artillery. The King was in face of the
centre of this position; his right covered by Jablanowski against the
attacks of the Tartar cavalry. It was five o’clock; his infantry was
not yet at hand; the only artillery which had kept pace with the speed
of his advance consisted of two or three light pieces which the veteran
commander of his artillery, Konski, had brought up by force of arm
and levers. Sobieski pointed these at the field tent of crimson silk,
from which the Vizier was giving his orders. The ammunition carriages
were, however, far behind, and a few charges carried by hand were soon
exhausted. A French officer, it is said, rammed home the last cartridge
with his gloves, his wig, and a packet of French newspapers.
At this moment of hesitation the infantry came up. They were led by
the Count Maligni, the King’s brother-in-law, against a height which
commanded the quarters of the Vizier. The attack was successful,
and the King determined on the instant to pursue his fortune. As he
led his troops in a direct line for the Vizier’s tent, his terrible
presence was recognized by the infidel. “By Allah the King is really
among us,” exclaimed the Khan of the Crimea, Selim Gieray. The mass
retreated in confusion. Those who awaited the attack went down before
those lances of the Polish cavalry of which it was said by a Polish
noble to one of their kings, that if the heavens were to fall they
would sustain them on their points. The Pachas of Aleppo and Silistria
perished in the fray. The panic became universal and the rout complete.
The Vizier, hurried along with the stream, weeping and cursing by
turns—had neither time to deliberate nor power to command. By six
o’clock his gorgeous tent was in possession of Sobieski. His charger,
too heavily caparisoned for rapid flight, was still held by a slave
at the entrance. One of the golden stirrups was instantly sent off by
the conqueror to the Queen as a token of the defeat and flight of its
late owner. On the left, meanwhile, the progress of Lorraine, though
less rapid from the difficulties of the ground and the tenacity of the
resistance, had been equally victorious. The great Turkish redoubt, of
which the traces yet remain, held out against repeated assaults till
near five o’clock, when Louis of Baden, at the head of a regiment of
Saxon dragoons, dismounted for the purpose, and two Austrian regiments
of infantry, carried the work. The Turks now gave way at every point,
and poured into their camp in the wildest confusion. The Margrave
Louis, at the head of a squadron of dragoons, was the first to open
a communication with the city from the counterscarp of the Scottish
gate. Stahremberg ordered an immediate sally against the approaches
of the enemy, from which they had maintained through the day as heavy
a fire as on any previous day of the siege, though no assault had
been attempted by the strong body of Janissaries left in them for
that purpose. These men, abandoned now without orders to their fate,
endeavoured to turn the guns of the batteries upon the Imperialists.
The attempt, however, in the general confusion which ensued, was vain,
and the main body of the Janissaries, unable or unwilling to retreat,
was cut to pieces in the course of the night. The camp meanwhile fell
into the undisputed possession of the Poles.
Previous precaution, or a few moments’ halt at St. Ulric, enabled
the Vizier to save the sacred standard of the Prophet. One of the
many standards captured was sent by Sobieski to the Pope under the
supposition that it was the famous Palladium in question, but this
proved to be a mistake. It is probable also that the mass of the
treasure, which is supposed to have been very great in the Vizier’s
exchequer, had been removed; and we learn from the King of Poland’s
letters that considerable sums of coin were hastily divided among the
Vizier’s attendants at the last moment, and carried off. No great
amount of coin or bullion was found in the tents. Every other item in
the long catalogue of the treasures and luxuries which the Vizier had
accumulated round his person fell into the hands of the Poles. The
Turks continued their flight without intermission in the direction of
Raab, where the force still employed in the blockade of that fortress
afforded them a rallying point. It was, however, impossible for the
Christian leaders to assure themselves at so late an hour of the full
extent of the enemy’s discomfiture, or even to consider themselves
secure against a night attack. Great exertions were therefore made both
by the King and the Duke to keep their troops well in hand through the
night. The King, whose advance had led him to the very centre of the
camp, found it necessary to resort to threats of summary and capital
punishment to prevent his whole army from dispersing itself at once
to gather the rich harvest of the Turkish tents. These threats were,
as may be imagined, only partially effectual. Tents guarded in front
were cut open from behind, and discipline as usual gave way before the
attraction of spoil. The Germans had no such immediate opportunities
for plunder. Two regiments only of Austrian dragoons were despatched
in pursuit as far as the Fischa stream. The slaughter of this great
battle was not great in proportion to the numbers engaged and the
results obtained. The loss of the Turks has been computed at 25,000
men. Among these was that body of Janissaries, who were forgotten, and
left without orders in the trenches, and were cut to pieces during the
night. The King describes the Turks as defending themselves desperately
even in full flight. In this point of view, he says, they made the
finest retreat in the world. That of the Christians has been stated
at 1000 killed and 3000 wounded, which is probably far less than the
truth, for the Poles alone lost 100 officers, among them some of their
first nobles. In the centre the loss of the Bavarians was probably
trifling, but on the left the struggle was long and severe. A Prince
of Croy fell here in the early part of the action. In the Vizier’s
encampment was found the Polish envoy Proski, who, from the period of
his sovereign’s junction with Austria, had been kept in fetters, under
constant menace of the sabre or the bowstring, and now owed his life
and liberation to the confusion of the moment. Kunitz also, an agent
in Caprara’s suite, who had been detained in the Turkish camp, and had
found means to send occasional intelligence to Stahremberg, escaped
in a Turkish disguise during the action. A Polish writer, Rubinkoski,
gives a rough list of the artillery and its appurtenances abandoned in
the lines:—60 guns of 48 lbs., 60 of 24 lbs., 150 of various lesser
calibre, 40 mortars, 9000 ammunition waggons, 100,000 oxen, 25,000
tents, 1,000,000 lbs. of powder. To this may be added 10,000 camels,
5000 oxen, mules, sheep, &c., and immense stores of other provision.
Among those accidental results of events which the political economist
and the philosopher loves to notice, is the fact that the popular
use of coffee in Germany is to be dated from this period, and is due
to the plunder of the Turkish camp. Stahremberg’s brave and faithful
messenger, Kolschitzki, was rewarded by permission to set up the first
coffee-house in Vienna. The head of the corporation of coffee providers
is bound to this day to have in his house a portrait of this patriarch
of his profession.[15] Another inventory of the siege-stores actually
brought into the arsenal of Vienna shows a considerable amount, as well
as variety of articles, but can give but an imperfect notion of the
vast provision accumulated, as the army authorities could but glean
after the plunderers of the three first days. The King writes to his
wife that the quantity of ammunition saved was at most a third of the
whole, and says that the continual explosions in the camp were like
the last judgment. His letters give some very amusing details of that
portion of the spoils of the Vizier’s tent which he contrived to rescue
for his own share from the fangs of his officers. They illustrate also
the character of the man whose penetralia were thus rudely exposed
to investigation, and show that Kara Mustapha had superadded every
description of refinement to the simpler sensuality of the East.
Tissues and carpets and furs are natural appendages of Oriental rank
and wealth, and jewelled arms and quivers, studded with rubies and
pearls, were equally consistent with his functions as commander of
the armies of the faithful. Baths, fountains, a rabbit warren, and a
menagerie, were found within the encampment. A parrot took wing and
foiled the pursuit of the soldiers. An ostrich had been beheaded by
the Vizier’s own hand, as if it had been a woman of the harem, to
prevent its falling into Christian hands. This rarity had been taken
from the Imperial Menagerie at the Favorita, where the King mentions
having found a famished lioness and a small body of Janissaries, who
had been left behind at that post, and still held out some days after
the action. The Janissaries surrendered to the personal summons of the
King. Their lives were spared, and the lioness fed by order of the
good-natured conqueror. “The Vizier,” writes the King, “is a _galant
homme_, and has made us fine presents: everything in particular which
came near his person is of the most _mignon_ and refined description.
Father Louis will have reason to rejoice, for I have in my possession
the medicine chest of the Vizier. Among its contents are oils, and
gums, and balms, which Pecovini[16] is never tired of admiring. Among
other things we have found some rare fishes called Eperlans de mer.
_Informez-vous-en, mon cœur, chez le Père Louis; ce doit être une chose
précieuse pour rechauffer les entrailles._” Among the treasures of the
Vizier, diamonds were found in great profusion; many, set in girdles
and otherwise, fell into the hands of the King, and many more carried
off by the officers and soldiers. The King remarks that they were not
used for ornament by the Turks of his day, and conjectures that they
were destined to adorn the ladies of Vienna when transferred to the
harems of the Vizier and his Pachas.
Among other trophies of interest, Roman Catholic historians have
particularized an oaken cross six ells in height, remarkable from
the fact that in the camp of the infidel it was set up for the daily
celebration of mass by one of their Christian allies, Servanus
Kantacuzenos, Prince of Wallachia. A chapel was built for it in the
so-called Gatterholz, near Schönbrunn, on the spot where it had thus
braved the scoffs of the Moslem. It was stolen thence in 1785.
As far as a considerable lapse of intervening years permits us to
decide, this great action appears to have been planned with surpassing
judgment, and conducted with that steady valour and perseverance on the
part both of officers and men, to give scope and effect to which all
rules of war were invented, and without which these rules are useless.
History presents few instances in which an extensive operation has
been conducted with such cordial concert between bodies of different
nations commanded in several cases by their respective sovereigns,
and in which jealousies of precedence and professional rivalries
appear to have been so completely laid aside during the action. The
only instance of any apparent deficiency in this respect is that of
a refusal of the Prince of Waldeck to support an attack directed by
the Duke of Lorraine; but even in this case there is every reason to
suppose that he considered it to involve a departure from the earnest
injunctions of the chief in command, the King, who had directed him to
keep his troops in hand for the support of the right wing. When the
discomfiture of the Polish cavalry had compromised the safety of that
wing, and with it the fate of the battle, we find the German troops,
probably the Bavarians, prompt and efficient to the rescue; and on
the left, Saxons, intermingled with Austrians, fought together, as if
under one common banner. The stout elector himself was in the thickest
of the fray. He is said to have been splashed with Turkish blood so as
scarcely to be recognised. With the exception of the first somewhat
rash attack of the Poles, there is no appearance of any indulgence of
that untempered enthusiasm which the occasion might have excused. Order
and steadiness seem to have pervaded the whole area of the Christian
operations. Attacks were everywhere duly supported, failures retrieved,
and obstacles of ground successively overcome, in a manner which showed
a grave consciousness of the magnitude of the stake at issue.
FOOTNOTES:
[15] The first coffee-house in Europe was established in Constantinople
in 1551. A century later, in 1652, a Greek established one in London.
The first in France was at Marseilles in 1671, in Paris the following
year. In Germany that of Kolschitzki was the first, the second was
opened at Leipzic in 1694. In 1700 Vienna counted four, in 1737 eleven.
In the city and suburbs there are now one hundred.
[16] The King’s Italian physician.