brought a larger dowry than usual, the husband promises on his part
that he will take no concubine, but will keep to her alone. Otherwise,
the Turks are not forbidden by any law to have as many concubines as
they please in addition to their lawful wives. Between the children of
wives and those of concubines there is no distinction, and they are
considered to have equal rights. As for concubines they either buy them
for themselves or win them in war; when they are tired of them there
is nothing to prevent their bringing them to market and selling them;
but they are entitled to their freedom if they have borne children to
their master. This privilege Roxolana, Solyman’s wife, turned to her
own advantage, when she had borne him a son while still a slave. Having
thus obtained her freedom, and become her own mistress, she refused to
submit any longer to his will, unless, contrary to the custom of the
Ottoman Sultans, she was made his lawful wife. The only distinction
between the lawful wife and the concubine is, that the former has a
dowry, while the slaves have none. A wife who has a portion settled on
her is mistress of her husband’s house, and all the other women have to
obey her orders. The husband, however, may choose which of them shall
spend the night with him. He makes known his wishes to the wife, and
she sends to him the slave he has selected. Hardly a pleasant task, one
would fancy, for a wife, whatever the feelings of the other might be!
Only Friday night, which is their Sabbath, is supposed to belong to the
wife; and she grumbles if her husband deprives her of it. On all the
other nights he may do as he pleases.
Divorces are granted among them for many reasons which it is easy for
the husbands to invent. The divorced wife receives back her dowry,
unless the divorce has been caused by some fault on her part. There is
more difficulty in a woman’s getting a divorce from her husband. Among
the reasons which are considered sufficient for granting a divorce are
the deprivation of the necessaries of life by the husband, and certain
kinds of ill treatment. In the latter case the woman goes before the
judge, and makes a declaration that she is unable to remain any longer
with her husband; when the judge asks the reason, she gives no answer,
but takes off one of her shoes and turns it upside down. This the
judge accepts as sufficient evidence that her husband has treated her
improperly.
People of consideration with large harems appoint eunuchs to guard
them. They also have baths at home, in which they and their women
perform their ablutions, while people of smaller means patronise the
public baths. They consider cleanliness of the body as even of more
importance in a religious point of view than purity of the soul,
which is the reason of their frequent ablutions. The great mass of
women use the public baths for females, and assemble there in large
numbers. Among them are found many girls of exquisite beauty, who have
been brought together from different quarters of the globe by various
chances of fortune; so cases occur of women falling in love with one
another at these baths, in much the same fashion as young men fall in
love with maidens in our own country. Thus you see a Turk’s precautions
are sometimes of no avail, and when he has succeeded in keeping his
wives from a male lover, he is still in danger from a female rival! The
women become deeply attached to each other, and the baths supply them
with opportunities of meeting. Some therefore keep their women away
from them as much as possible, but they cannot do so altogether, as the
law allows them to go there. This evil affects only the common people;
the richer classes bathe at home, as I mentioned.
It happened that in a gathering of this kind, an elderly woman fell in
love with a girl, the daughter of an inhabitant of Constantinople, a
man of small means. When her courtship and flatteries were not attended
with the success her mad passion demanded, she ventured on a course,
which to our notions appears almost incredible. Changing her dress,
she pretended she was a man, and hired a house near where the girl’s
father lived, representing herself as one of the slaves of the Sultan,
belonging to the class of cavasses; and it was not long before she
took advantage of her position as a neighbour, cultivated the father’s
acquaintance, and asked for his daughter in marriage. Need I say more?
The proposal appearing to be satisfactory, the father readily consents,
and promises a dowry proportionate to his means. The wedding-day was
fixed, and then this charming bridegroom enters the chamber of the
bride, takes off her veil,[181] and begins to chat with her. She
recognises at once her old acquaintance, screams out, and calls back
her father and mother, who discover that they have given their daughter
in marriage to a woman instead of a man. The next day they bring her
before the Aga of the Janissaries, who was governing the city in the
Sultan’s absence. He tells her that an old woman like her ought to know
better than to attempt so mad a freak, and asks, if she is not ashamed
of herself? She replies, ‘Tush! you know not the might of love, and God
grant that you may never experience its power.’ At this the Aga could
not restrain his laughter; and ordered her to be carried off at once,
and drowned in the sea. Thus the strange passion of this old woman
brought her to a bad end.
The Turks do not inquire very closely into secret vices, that they may
not give an opportunity for false charges, but they punish severely
open profligacy and crimes that are detected.
I am afraid your ears have been offended by my account of such an
instance of wickedness; but, if I can, I will remove by a pleasanter
story any disagreeable impressions the former may have left, for I am
quite sure you will have a good laugh over what I am going to tell you.
There came lately during the disturbances in Hungary a courier from
the Emperor. The Pashas desired that he should not as usual be brought
directly to me, but first be taken to the Divan, their object being to
know the contents of the Emperor’s letters before they were delivered
to me, as they suspected that many things were suppressed, and that I
did not give them a faithful account of the tenor of despatches. The
courier, however, foreseeing what was coming, concealed the Emperor’s
packet, and delivered only my private letters. The Pashas had been
previously informed by their interpreter Ibrahim, who is by birth a
Pole, that despatches which contained confidential instructions were
not written in the usual characters, but in a new sort of letters;
namely, in what we call cipher. As they were examining all the letters,
they chanced to come upon one from a friend of mine, the Burgundian
Secretary, which Ibrahim perceived was written on unusually thin
paper, through which the letters could be seen when held to the light.
He exclaimed, ‘I have found it,’ and told them to let the others be,
saying this was the one that contained important matter. The Pashas,
telling him to break the seal, read it, and translate it, assumed an
attitude of attention and expectation. Ibrahim, however, declared that
he could not make out a single letter. At this the Pashas were amazed,
and asked him if he had never learnt, or had forgotten, Christian
characters? to which Ibrahim replied, that this kind of writing was
known only to the confidential secretaries of Sovereigns. As they did
not clearly understand his answer, they said: ‘But if so, why do you
delay? why don’t you hurry off at once to the Secretary of the Venetian
or the Florentine Baily?’ Off flew Ibrahim in hot haste. Now the letter
was written in such characters that a boy ten years old could have read
it, but both the Secretaries, seeing it was addressed to me, after one
glance returned it, declaring that without a knowledge of the private
key it was impossible for anyone to decipher the writing. Ibrahim
returned with this reply, and the Pashas then deliberated what was to
be done. Then some one made the following suggestion: ‘There is in the
city the Patriarch, who is acquainted with many kinds of characters;
if he, being an old man and a Christian, cannot read them no one else
can.’ They agreed to the proposal, but the Patriarch declared that
he could not make out a single jot of them, for the characters were
neither Greek, nor Latin, nor Hebrew, nor Chaldee. So they brought
the letter back having had their trouble for nothing. Then, Ali
Pasha, though on other occasions he showed that he was by no means a
fool, turned to Roostem and said, ‘Cardassi (which means ‘brother’ in
Turkish), I remember I had a slave, by birth an Italian, who knew all
languages and characters. Were he still alive I feel no doubt that he
could have read and interpreted these characters; but he died some time
ago.’ Not knowing what further plan to adopt, they decided to send
me the letters as they could make no use of them. When I had heard
the whole story from Ibrahim (for it was impossible to conceal it), I
made vehement complaints, and was very indignant at their having thus
intercepted my letters, without paying any regard to international law,
or to the Emperor from whom they had come; and I also told him to wait
and hear some passages translated from them, that he might communicate
them to the Pashas the next day.
On the morrow, when he appeared in the Divan, the Pashas asked him,
‘could I read those characters?’ ‘As easily,’ said Ibrahim, ‘as his
own name;’ and at the same time proceeded to lay before them certain
statements which I had desired him to communicate. Then Roostem
remarked: ‘The Ambassador is a young man, and yet he understands what
the old Patriarch cannot so much as read; he will certainly turn out a
great man, if he attains old age.’
I do not know if it was in consequence of this occurrence, or of
something else, that this same Roostem, in the course of a conversation
I had with him some days afterwards on public business, began to throw
off his usual reserve, and finally went so far as to ask me, ‘Whether
I had any objection to be initiated into their religion, and to become
a worshipper of the true God? If I should do so, Solyman, through his
influence, was ready to confer on me great honours and great rewards.’
I replied that I was determined to remain in the religion in which
I was born, and which was professed by my master. ‘Very well,’ said
Roostem; ‘but what is to become of your soul?’ ‘For my soul too,’ I
replied, ‘I have good hopes.’ Then, after a moment’s reflection, he
said, ‘You are right; and I myself do not dissent from the doctrine
that men who have passed this life in holiness and innocence will be
partakers of eternal bliss, whatever religion they may have followed.’
Such views are entertained by some Turks, but they are thought
heretical, and Roostem himself is not considered altogether orthodox.
The Turks deem it their duty and an act of charity, to make one offer
to a Christian of whom they have a good opinion, of partaking in their
rites and religion, in the hope of saving, if they can, a man otherwise
destined to eternal perdition, and think such an offer is to be
considered the greatest possible honour and mark of kindness they can
show.
I will now give you another conversation with Roostem, that you may
understand how widely the Persians are separated from the Turks by
religion.[182] He once asked me if war was still going on between the
Kings of Spain and France. On my replying that it was, ‘What right have
they,’ said he, ‘to wage war on each other, when they are united by
the ties of religion?’ ‘The same,’ said I, ‘as you have to fight with
the Persians. There are cities, provinces, and kingdoms about which
they are at variance.’ ‘It is quite a different case,’ said Roostem,
‘for we, you must know, hate the Persians worse, and consider them more
impious than we do you Christians.’
I will now give you some news of events in Hungary, where, since my
return, each side has met with chequered fortune in its enterprises.
To write a full and particular account would be tedious and out of
place.[183] Isabella, the wife of King John, returned to Transylvania
with her son, after repudiating the agreement and the treaties she
had made with the Emperor Ferdinand, and from fear of the Turkish
arms, the people of Transylvania again submitted to the old yoke.
Even these successes did not satisfy the Turks, who appeared to be
aiming at the acquisition of the whole of Hungary. Accordingly, among
other operations they resolved to besiege the very strong position
of Szigeth,[184] which derives its name from the Hungarian word for
island. For this enterprise they selected as general a man, whose
successful career was calculated to inspire his troops with confidence
and his enemies with fear. This was Ali Pasha, an Albanian, who had
distinguished himself whilst governor of Hungary by his successes, the
chief of which was his decisive victory over Sforzia Palavicini and the
Bishop of Fünfkirchen. He was summoned from his distant command on the
Persian frontier, and the greatest hopes were excited by his appearance
in Constantinople. My colleagues were then still here, pressing for
leave to return. The Pashas thought it well that we should see the man
who, they considered, would be regarded by us as a very thunderbolt of
war. He received us courteously, and addressed us at length, telling
us that we ought to endeavour to make peace, and save Hungary from
being wasted with fire and sword, by acceding to the terms which _his_
Emperor[185] proposed. We answered that peace was our first object,
provided it was granted on such terms as were consistent with the
honour of _our_ Emperor; but that we were forbidden to agree to such a
peace as would be contrary to the interests and dignity of his Majesty.
So we departed, having been first entertained by him with _eau sucrée_.
Ali was a eunuch, but his spirit seemed to have gained what his body
had lost. He was of short stature, bloated person, and yellowish
complexion; the expression of his face was morose, his eyes had a
fierce look, and his shoulders were high and broad. Between them his
head was sunk and concealed. From his mouth projected two teeth like a
boar’s tusks; his voice was discordant. To describe him in a word, he
was a regular devil.
He set out the next day with a great train, and having reached Hungary,
he spent some time in preparations; then, marching on Szigeth, he drove
away the men who were rebuilding Babocsa—a fortress belonging to the
Emperor. But his Majesty, who had already been informed of Ali Pasha’s
designs, determined to send one of his three sons to encounter his
onslaught, and do battle for Hungary. The young Archduke Ferdinand, on
whom his choice fell, is equal in courage to any of the famous generals
of ancient times. He took up a position against Ali’s army with a small
body of picked cavalry. Turks who were there told me that it was a
goodly sight to behold the splendour, discipline, and steadiness of
our troops. The Pasha, whose army was much the largest, and who was
naturally a man of fierce and haughty temper, could not brook that
Christians should dare to face him. Some marshy ground, which could not
be crossed without danger, lay between the two armies. Ferdinand, whose
object was to relieve Szigeth and to raise the siege, had no need to
cross; but Ali Pasha, on the contrary, was obliged to risk everything,
as he had no choice between advancing and committing himself to an
ignominious and hazardous retreat. He, therefore, seeing to what a
strait he was reduced, decided to risk everything on the success of
his movement, and was on the point of plunging with his steed into the
marsh, when a Sanjak-bey who was among the bystanders, whose name I
have forgotten, perceiving the greatness of the danger, leaped down
from his horse, and, laying his hand on the Pasha’s rein, said, ‘My
Sultan’ (for this is the title given by the Turks to men of high rank),
‘do you not see the peril into which you are wilfully bringing yourself
and us? You do not sufficiently take into account the difficulty of
crossing this quagmire. The Christians are waiting for us on the other
side with stout hearts and strong lances, and their serried squadrons
will charge down on our straggling column as soon as the vanguard has
got clear of the marsh, while the rest are still struggling in the mud.
They will take advantage of our rashness, and fight with the certainty
of defeating us. Restrain your wrath, and recollect yourself. Preserve
the lives of your gallant soldiers and your own for our Emperor’s[186]
service and for better days. God will be sure to give us an opportunity
of mending this day’s work.’ At these words Ali recovered his senses,
and restrained himself. Every Turk on the field admitted that the army
had been saved by the advice of the Sanjak-bey. However, when news of
the affair reached Constantinople, although not even the Vizierial
(that is the chief) Pashas could deny that Ali’s army owed its safety
to the prompt interference of the Sanjak-bey, and though they praised
his loyalty and generalship in private, yet they were unwilling that
such a breach of discipline should go unpunished, and thus become a
precedent for the future. Accordingly, they removed him from office,
recalled him to Constantinople, and they placed him on the list of
those who had been dismissed the service, until, when they thought his
fault had been sufficiently atoned for, they promoted him to a much
better government than the one he had lost, which made it quite plain
that he had been thus punished rather to preserve discipline than
because he had done wrong.
Ali not long afterwards returned to Buda. During his retreat his troops
were so harassed by the Hungarians that he lost a large part of his
army. He arrived at the capital of Hungary a broken and dishonoured
man, where he died shortly afterwards of grief and shame.
On the other hand, the Archduke Ferdinand returned to his father
with well-earned laurels. His success will not only be of immediate
advantage, but it will enhance for the future the prestige of our arms.
The Turks have now had ample proof that, if they trouble the Emperor,
he is one who has both soldiers and generals wherewith to chastise
their insolence. This check has made the Turks on the borders a great
deal quieter.
While Ali was still encamped before Szigeth, our soldiers took by
escalade the city of Gran, with the adjoining citadel of the same name.
They carried off some plunder, and also the inhabitants, who were
mostly women and children. The messenger who brought the news to the
Pasha came trembling, with dismay painted on his face. ‘Is all well?’
quoth the Pasha. ‘Why are you thus cast down?’ Thereon the man told
him of the great disaster the Turks had sustained in the loss of Gran.
‘Disaster! loss!’ cried the Pasha. ‘Well, I know what disaster and loss
mean; I can tell you it was a disastrous loss when they made me what
I am.’ The Pasha was a eunuch, and he intended by this coarse joke on
himself to divert the attention of the people round him from the loss
which he was unable to repair.
In Croatia, too, and in the neighbouring regions, various forays went
on upon both sides, and people, whether Turks or Christians, who were
too venturesome and careless, were punished for their presumption.
I will tell you an instance, and as it gave me reason to rejoice, I
trust you also will find the story agreeable. True, it occurred a
little before the affair of Szigeth which I have just related; but as
it is a letter I am writing, I feel that the order of time need not
be very strictly regarded. From those districts news was brought to
Roostem of a feat performed by a certain Turk, for whom he professed
great admiration and spoke of as his kinsman. He had swept down on
a large party of Christians, who were celebrating a wedding without
the slightest notion that there were any Turks in the neighbourhood.
You may imagine what an unwelcome guest he was. His troops scattered
the people, killing several, and carrying off many more as prisoners;
amongst the latter was the unfortunate bridegroom, with her who was
about to become his wife. Roostem was greatly elated, and kept boring
everybody with his boasts of the wonderful success of his kinsman’s
raid. So far, the story is one on which we must exchange condolences
rather than congratulations. Well, it is the fortune of war. But
retribution was close at hand to change Roostem’s merriment into tears
and lamentation. There came not long afterwards from the same districts
in hot haste a Dalmatian horseman with news of a great defeat. (The man
belonged to a class whom the Turks call Delli, i.e. madmen, on account
of their blind and reckless daring.) He said that several Sanjak-beys
and other commanders of garrisons had united their forces and invaded
the enemy’s territory; they had scoured the country for many miles,
and had carried off much booty, but at last, advancing too far, they
fell in with a Christian force, composed of musketeers on horseback,
by whom they were put to flight and utterly routed with the loss of
many men, among whom was that Achilles, Roostem’s kinsman, of whom he
had just been speaking in such high terms. Roostem was overwhelmed on
hearing the disastrous intelligence, and burst into tears. Richly did
he deserve this misfortune in retribution for his former boastfulness.
Now listen to the rest of the story, which affords still greater reason
for rejoicing. When the Dalmatian horseman, who brought the news
of the defeat I mentioned, was immediately afterwards asked by the
Pashas in the Divan, ‘How many of you then were engaged?’ he replied,
‘Above 2,500.’ The Pashas proceeded, ‘Pray, what was the number of the
Christians?’ to which he said, ‘he thought they were not above 500 that
he could see, though there might have been some more lying in ambush,
and for his part he thought there were, but he could take his oath that
there was not more than that number of Christians actually engaged.’
Thereupon the Pashas got angry with him for not being more ashamed at
the defeat of a regular army of Mussulmans by a handful of Christians.
They thought it foul scorn that picked warriors, who had been deemed
worthy of being numbered amongst Solyman’s household and of eating his
bread, should thus disgrace themselves. The messenger most unblushingly
replied, ‘You do not take a right view of the matter. Did you not hear
that we were overcome by the force of fire-arms? it was fire that
routed us, not the enemy’s valour. Far different, by heaven, would have
been the result of the fight, had they met us like brave men. They
called fire to their aid; by the violence of fire we were conquered; we
are not ashamed; it is one of the elements and the fiercest of them,
and what mortal man has such strength as to be able to resist the fury
of the elements?’[187] When he delivered this speech bombastically with
Dalmatian magniloquence, the bystanders, notwithstanding the melancholy
tidings, could with difficulty check their laughter.
This news cheered me not a little, coming as it did when I was still
depressed by the recollection of the previous disaster. I could thereby
learn that the Turks are much afraid of carbines and pistols, such as
are used on horseback. The same, I hear, is the case with the Persians,
on which account some one advised Roostem, when he was setting out with
the Sultan on a campaign against them, to raise from his household
servants a troop of 200 horse and arm them with fire-arms, as they
would cause much alarm and do great execution in the ranks of the
enemy. Roostem, in accordance with this advice, raised a troop of
dragoons, furnished them with fire-arms, and had them drilled. But
they had not completed half the journey when their guns began to get
out of order. Every day some essential part of their weapons was
lost or broken, and it was not often that armourers could be found
capable of repairing them. So, a large part of the fire-arms having
been rendered unserviceable, the men took a dislike to the weapon; and
this prejudice was increased by the dirt which its use entailed, the
Turks being a very cleanly people; for the dragoons had their hands
and clothes begrimed with gunpowder, and moreover presented such a
sorry appearance, with their ugly boxes and pouches hanging about them,
that their comrades laughed at them, and called them apothecaries. So,
since with this equipment they pleased neither themselves nor others,
they gathered round Roostem, and showing him their broken and useless
fire-arms, asked what advantage he hoped to gain from them when they
met the enemy, and demanded that he should relieve them of them, and
give them their old arms again. Roostem, after considering their
request carefully, thought there was no reason for refusing to comply
with it, and so they got leave to resume their bows and arrows.