reached Komorn. Here I waited patiently for my fever to come on at its
regular time. At last I found that it had left me, and that the Turkish
fever had not ventured to cross into Christian territory! Hereupon I
gave thanks to God for delivering me, in one and the same day, both
from sickness and also from the toils and troubles of a long and
difficult journey.
Two days later I reached Vienna, but I did not find my most gracious
master Ferdinand, King of the Romans, in the city. At present his
place at Vienna is occupied by Maximilian, King of Bohemia, whose
kindness has made me well nigh forget the hardships I have undergone;
but I am still so reduced by loss of flesh and lack of care, and the
inconveniences arising from travelling whilst sick, that many imagine
I have been poisoned by the Turks. At any rate, the other day, when
the Archduke Ferdinand was here and I bowed to him, on his asking one
of his people who I was, the man replied, loud enough for me to hear,
that ‘my looks might tell from what country I had come;’ probably
intending to suggest that I had swallowed the same sort of mushroom as
Claudius[149] of old. But I am quite certain that I am suffering from
nothing of the kind, and that after a little rest I shall recover my
colour, my strength, and my general condition; indeed, I feel every day
that there is a gradual change for the better.
In the meantime I have sent news of my return to the King of the
Romans, informing him at the same time of the six months’ truce, and
giving him a short account of the negotiations in which I have been
engaged. When he returns from the Diet, in the affairs of which he is
now engaged, I shall be able to give him a full report.
Many, who from fear or some other reason, shrank from accompanying me
to Constantinople, would now give a handsome sum for the honour of
having returned with me. Their case reminds me of the famous line in
Plautus—
‘Let him who would eat the kernel crack the nut.’
A man has no right to ask for _part_ of the profit, if he has not taken
on himself _part_ of the work.
You have now got an account of my journey to Amasia as well as the
history of my journey to Constantinople; the yarn I have spun is rough
and ready, just as I should tell it if we were chatting together. You
will be bound to excuse the want of polish, inasmuch as I have complied
with your request, and despatched my letter at an early date. In mere
fairness you cannot expect fine writing from a man who is hurried and
overwhelmed with business. As to fine writing indeed, I do not believe
I am capable of it, even if I had time to think and leisure to compose.
But while I own my deficiencies in this respect, I have the
satisfaction of feeling that I can claim for my poor narrative one
merit, compared with which all other merits are as nothing. It is
written in a spirit of honesty and truth.
Vienna, September 1, 1555.[150]
LETTER II.
Reasons for returning to Constantinople—Roostem restored
to power—Negotiations—Busbecq’s nose and ears in
danger—Bajazet—Account of Solyman’s family—Story of
Prince Jehangir—Roxolana’s partiality for Bajazet—The
temper of Mustapha’s partisans—Bajazet suborns a man
to personate Mustapha—The impostor in Bulgaria—His
artful address—Solyman’s appreciation of the crisis—The
Sanjak-beys—Pertau Pasha—Seizure of the impostor—Tortured
by order of the Sultan—The impostor’s revelations—Drowned
at midnight—Danger of Bajazet—Roxolana’s intercession
for her son—Bajazet’s visit to his father—The cup of
sherbet—Bajazet more fortunate than Mustapha—Achmet
Pasha—Various reasons assigned for his execution—Strange
request to his executioner—Busbecq’s best friends.
I have received your letter, in which you tell me that you have heard
of my departure for Thrace, while you wonder at the infatuation which
has induced me to revisit a country destitute of civilisation, and
notorious for deeds of cruelty.
Well, you wish me to tell you of my journey, the position of affairs
when I arrived, my reception at Constantinople, etc.; in short, you
want to know how I am, whether I am enjoying myself, and whether I
have any immediate prospect of returning. You claim an answer to your
questions on the score of our ancient friendship.
Here is my reply to your inquiries. First, the report which you heard
of my return hither was quite correct, nor need you be surprised at my
taking this step. My word was pledged, and having once undertaken the
duty, I could not consistently draw back.
My position was this: I had been appointed by my most gracious master
Ferdinand, King of the Romans, ambassador in ordinary to Solyman for
several years. This appointment, however, and my acceptance of it,
appeared to rest on the assumption that peace had been concluded;
still, as the hope of an arrangement had not been altogether abandoned,
I did not, until the matter was finally settled, one way or the other,
feel justified in avoiding the toils and risks of my present position.
Accordingly though I was under no delusion as to the extent of the
danger I was incurring, and should have much preferred to hand over
the duty to another, still, since I could not find a substitute, I was
obliged to obey the wish of my most kind and considerate Sovereign—a
wish which to me was law. As soon as he had returned from the session
of the Imperial Diet,[151] and had given me an interview, in the course
of which I informed him of the state of our negotiations with Solyman,
he ordered me to hold myself in readiness to carry back his answer to
the Sultan.
It was winter, and the weather was bad, being wet, cold, and windy,
when I was ordered back to Constantinople with despatches which could
hardly be acceptable to those to whom I went. Here you will exclaim
at my infatuation in venturing a second time on such a risk. I cannot
look on it in this light. It seems to me that what was the right course
before must be the right course now. And surely the proper measure of
the credit to be attached to an honourable act, is the amount of toil
and danger involved in its accomplishment.
In the month of November I left Vienna to retrace my steps to the
shores of the Euxine. I have no intention of abusing your patience
by wearying you with a repetition of the trifling occurrences which
befell me on my way, for I think you must have been so bored with the
account of my former journey, as hardly yet to have recovered from its
effects. Repetition is all the more needless, because we took almost
identically the same route as before.
Early in January I reached Constantinople, after losing one of my
companions from an attack of acute fever, brought on by the hardships
of the road. I found my colleagues safe and sound, but a great change
had taken place in the Turkish Government. Bajazet, the younger son
of Solyman, had been delivered from a position of serious danger, and
forgiven by his father. Achmet Pasha,[152] the Chief Vizier, had been
strangled; and Roostem restored to his former honours.
Of these things more anon. I will now tell you of the unfavourable
reception I had from the Sultan, the Pashas, and the rest of the Turks.
In accordance with their usual practice before admitting an ambassador
to the presence of their Sovereign, the Pashas desired me to tell them
the purport of the answer with which I was entrusted; on learning
that his Majesty declined to make any concession, and insisted on his
right to the fulfilment of the treaty which he had fairly and honestly
negotiated with the widow and son of John the Voivode[153] (i.e.
Governor) of Transylvania, the wrath and indignation of the Pashas knew
no bounds. A long career of success has made the Turks so arrogant,
that they consider their pleasure to be the sole rule of what is right
and what is wrong.
At first they tried to frighten us, and enlarged on the danger of
entering the Sultan’s presence with such despatches. When we were not
to be intimidated, and again asked for an audience, they refused to
involve themselves in our dangers by presenting us to their Sovereign.
To use their own phrase, they asked us ‘how many spare heads we thought
they had got, that we expected them to introduce us to their master’s
presence with an answer of this kind? It was a downright insult on our
part, and one which their master was not the man to pocket. He was in
his capital, surrounded by his victorious troops; his successes against
the Persians had raised his spirit and swelled his pride, while the
son who had aspired to his throne had been put to death, from which
last circumstance we might learn a lesson as to how far his wrath could
go. What could possibly suit him better than a campaign in Hungary,
where his war-worn soldiers might forget their hardships, and enjoy the
plunder of a well-stocked country, while he annexed to his empire the
remainder of that province, which in good sooth was not much? In short
our wisest course was to keep quiet, and not arouse his anger; there
was no need for us to hasten on the evil day; it would come quite soon
enough without our interference.’ Such was the advice of the Pashas,
nor was more comfort to be derived from the opinions expressed by the
rest of the Turks; for the mildest punishment they threatened us with
was, that two of us would be thrust into a noisome dungeon, while the
third (your humble servant, to wit), would be sent back to his master,
after being first deprived of his nose and ears. Moreover, we noticed
that people, as they passed our lodging, scowled at us in a way that
boded no good. From this time we met with harsher treatment, our
confinement was closer, no one was suffered to visit us, our people
were not allowed to go abroad; in short, although we were ambassadors,
our lot was scarcely better than that of prisoners. This has been our
position for the last six months, and what will be the end of it God
only knows; we are in His hands, and whatever may befall us, whatever
we may have to bear, we shall have the great comfort of feeling that
there is nothing on our part of which we need be ashamed.
I will now proceed to answer your inquiries touching Bajazet, but
in order to make my explanation clearer, I must give you further
explanations about the Sultan’s family. Solyman has had five sons,
the eldest of whom was Mustapha, whose unhappy end I have already
described; he was the son of a woman who came from the Crimea; by a
Russian[154] woman, to whom he is legally married, he has had four
sons—Mahomet, Selim, Bajazet, and Jehangir. Mahomet, after marrying a
wife (for the Turks give the title of wife to concubines), died while
still young. The surviving sons are Selim and Bajazet.
Jehangir, the youngest, is dead, and of his death I shall now proceed
to give you an account. The news of Mustapha’s death, when it arrived
at Constantinople, overwhelmed the young prince with terror and dismay.
The poor lad, whose person was disfigured by a hump, had no strength
of mind or body to enable him to resist the shock. The death of his
brother reminded him of the fate in store for himself at no distant
day. His father’s death would seal his doom. The consignment of the
old Sultan to the tomb would mark at once the commencement of his
successor’s reign, and the termination of his own life. Whoever that
successor might be, it was certain he would regard all his brothers
as rivals to his throne, who must be got rid of without delay; and of
these brothers he was one. These sad thoughts took hold of him to
such an extent, that an order for his instant execution could not have
terrified him more. So great was his misery that it brought on an
illness which terminated in his death.
Two sons, as I said, survive; one of whom, Selim, being the elder, is
intended by his father to succeed him on the throne. Bajazet’s claims
are warmly supported by his mother, who is devoted to him. Possibly his
hopeless position may have excited her pity, or she may be influenced
by his dutiful bearing towards herself; but whatever the reason may
be, no one doubts that, if it depended on her, Bajazet would be placed
on the throne to the exclusion of Selim. She must, however, yield to
the father’s will, and he is thoroughly determined that, if the fates
permit, no one but Selim shall succeed him. Bajazet, being aware
how matters stand, is anxiously looking round for an opportunity of
escaping the fate marked out for him, and exchanging a pitiless doom
for a throne. Indeed the support of his mother and Roostem prevents his
altogether despairing of success; and to fall fighting for the chance
of empire seems to him a more honourable lot than to be butchered
like a sheep by his brother’s hangman. Such were Bajazet’s feelings,
and his difference with Selim was becoming more and more marked,
when he discerned in the odium excited by the execution of Mustapha
an opportunity of putting in motion the revolution he had long been
planning.
So intense was the sorrow for Mustapha, that many after his death grew
weary of life; all their prospects had been bound up in his fortunes,
and what they most longed for was an opportunity of avenging his wrongs
or sharing his fate. Some of his supporters were rendered so uneasy
by their own fears, that they thought there could be nothing worse
than their present position, and therefore were looking out for the
means of bringing about a general revolution; all that was wanted was a
leader; Mustapha indeed could not be recalled to life, but a pretender
could be set up. Bajazet was on the watch, and the idea struck him as
one admirably calculated for the furtherance of his design. At his
instigation, some of his followers induced a fellow of low origin,
but daring and resolute, to announce himself as Mustapha, and boldly
personate the dead prince. In height, features, and general appearance
he was not unlike that unhappy youth. Feigning to have escaped from the
Sultan by flight, the pretender began to show himself first northward
of Constantinople, on the slopes[155] of the Balkan leading down to the
Danube, not far from the provinces of Moldavia and Wallachia.
There were two reasons for choosing this locality; first, because the
proximity of the above-mentioned provinces afforded a good opening for
revolutionary schemes, and, secondly, because the whole country was
full of Spahis, a branch of the service which had provided Mustapha
with most of his followers. He landed there with a few attendants,
pretending to be a traveller, who desired to escape notice. When his
companions were questioned as to who he was, they made people think
it was Mustapha by timid hints, rather than by downright statements;
nor did their leader himself deny that such was the case. This
cunning device made people still more anxious to see him. Hereon the
pretender threw away all disguise; and after expressing his joy at
his safe arrival among them, and thanking God for his preservation,
proceeded to tell them the following story. He said that ‘when he was
summoned,[156] he had not ventured to enter into the presence of his
offended father or trust himself in his hands, but that by the advice
of his friends he had, by means of large promises, procured a man who
resembled him to go in his stead, that he might learn his father’s
disposition towards himself, at the risk of another man’s life: this
man, before he was admitted to his father, or given any opportunity
of pleading his case, had been cruelly strangled, and exposed in
front of the Sultan’s tent; at the time there were many who had a
sort of suspicion of the trick, but a still larger number, owing to
the features of the wretched man being rendered undistinguishable by
his agonising death, had been induced to believe that he himself had
suffered. On learning this, he had felt that he must without loss of
time fly for his life. Knowing that his safety depended on secresy, he
had only allowed a few of his companions to share his flight; he had
made his way along the north coast of the Black Sea through the tribes
of the Bosphorus,[157] and had come amongst them, because he felt that
in their loyal protection lay his best chance of safety. He implored
them not to fail him in the hour of trial, when he was suffering from
the persecution of his wicked stepmother, or hold him of less account
than they had been wont to do in the time of his prosperity; his object
was to avenge his wrongs, and draw the sword in self-defence. What else
remained to him? If he still lived, it was only because another had
died in his stead; proof enough had been given of his father’s feelings
towards him; to his parent’s mistake, not to his parent’s affection,
he owed his life; all this misery arose from the sorceries of his
mother-in-law; the poor old Sultan being hardly in his right mind, and
madly devoted to his wife, she was able to sway him at her pleasure,
and with Roostem’s assistance, to drive him to the commission of any
crime she chose; but, thank God, he had true friends to help him out
of his misfortunes, and inflict condign punishment on his enemies; he
still had devoted followers, on his side were the Janissaries and the
greater part of his father’s household, large forces would pour in
when they heard of his standard being raised, and hosts of friends,
who mourned his death, would rally round him when they found he still
lived. He only asked them to receive him kindly as a guest, and protect
him in the day of adversity, until such time as his supporters could be
assembled.’
At first he used this language privately, but afterwards he harangued
in a similar strain the inhabitants of the places he visited; the men
who were supposed to have been the companions of his flight supported
his assertions by similar narratives; while persons of considerable
position, who had been suborned by Bajazet, made statements to the
same effect. By this means a great number of people who had no
connection with Bajazet, were drawn into the mistake. For the affair
was so artfully managed that some who had known Mustapha during his
life, and had recognised his body when it lay before his father’s
tent, were nevertheless anxious to discredit their own senses, and
allowed themselves to be persuaded that this was the true Mustapha.
And though the intimate friends and dependants of Mustapha, on whose
memories his features were imprinted, were in no wise deceived by the
impostor, nevertheless, they were so blinded by fear and resentment,
that they were among the first to give in their allegiance. There was
nothing they were not willing to undergo sooner than live any longer
without a Mustapha. Their adhesion prevented the rest from having any
doubts as to his being the true Mustapha, and convinced them that the
story of his execution was founded on a mistake. Nor was the impostor
himself idle; for some he had fine words and promises, while on many
he bestowed money and presents, purporting to be a remnant saved from
the wreck of his former fortune (for Bajazet had taken care that there
should be no lack of funds), and so, by one means or another, he
managed to keep his followers together, and add to their number.
Accordingly, in a few days a large and daily increasing force had been
collected; the muster had already assumed the proportions of a regular
army, when Solyman was suddenly informed of the insurrection; letters
and messengers came in hot haste from the neighbouring Sanjak-beys to
tell him that the insurrection was rapidly gaining head, and the crisis
had become serious.
The Sultan, rightly surmising that one or other of his two sons was
privy to the conspiracy, considered it a most serious matter, and sent
despatches severely reprimanding the Sanjak-beys for their remissness
in allowing the insurrection to assume such formidable proportions,
instead of nipping it in the bud; moreover, he threatened to punish
them severely if they failed to send him the impostor in chains at the
very earliest date possible, and with him all the other ringleaders
in this monstrous treason. He told them that, in order to expedite
matters, he was sending one of his Vizierial Pashas to their assistance
(the name of this officer was Pertau, he is married to the widow of the
Mahomet of whom I told you), and that he was accompanied by a large
force of household troops; but if they desired to clear themselves,
they had better bring the matter to a conclusion with their own forces,
before the reinforcements arrived.
Pertau’s command was not numerous, but it was composed of the most
loyal of the Sultan’s troops; for Solyman had taken care to select his
most faithful colonels, captains, and cavalry officers. There was,
indeed, serious apprehension of Pertau’s forces being induced to go
over to the enemy in a body, as it was impossible to say how far they
had been tampered with, or to what length their party feeling might
carry them. The rank and file of the Janissaries, excited by the idea
of a revolution with Mustapha at its head, were well inclined towards
the insurgents, and eager for the rising to become general. There were,
therefore, serious reasons for anxiety.
On receiving Solyman’s commands, the Sanjak-beys felt the necessity of
vigorous action, and, with many mutual exhortations, set to work in all
haste to oppose and check the pretender’s plans, doing their utmost to
cut off the bands that were coming up, and to break up the force which
he had already collected, whilst they cowed the whole country side with
threats of the Sultan’s vengeance.
Meanwhile, the column of Pertau Pasha was advancing towards the
scene of insurrection. The effect produced by the approach of the
regular troops was such as might have been expected. The raw levies
of the pretender were panic-stricken when they saw that they were
out-generalled and attacked on every side. At first small parties
dropped away; after a while the whole army, throwing honour and
obligation to the winds, deserted their leader, and scattered in every
direction. The pretender, with his chief officers and advisers,
attempted to follow the example of his men, but was stopped by the
Sanjak-beys, and taken alive. They were all handed over to Pertau
Pasha, and sent off to Constantinople with a guard of picked troops.
On their arrival, Solyman had them carefully examined under torture.
Their confession established the guilt of Bajazet, and made his father
acquainted with his treasonable designs. He had intended, it appears,
as soon as the forces of the insurgents had reached a certain size,
to join them with a strong body of troops, and either to lead them
straight against Constantinople, or to fall with all his strength upon
his brother, according as circumstances might favour either attempt;
but whilst he hesitated, his designs were nipped in the bud by the
prompt action of his father. Solyman, having satisfied himself on these
points, ordered them all to be drowned in the sea at dead of night,
deeming it most inexpedient that any of these transactions should be
noised abroad, and his family misfortunes become the gazing-stock of
neighbouring princes. The Sultan, who was grievously displeased with
Bajazet for this audacious attempt, was debating in his mind how he
should punish him; but his wife being a clever woman, his intentions
were not long a secret to her.