Bairam,[223] had I not been detained by my wish to see that day’s
ceremonies. The Turks were about to celebrate the rites of the festival
on an open and level plain before the tents of Solyman; and I could
hardly hope that such an occasion of seeing them would ever present
itself again. I gave my servants orders to promise a soldier some
money and so get me a place in his tent, on a mound which commanded
a good view of Solyman’s pavilions. Thither I repaired at sunrise.
I saw assembled on the plain a mighty multitude of turbaned heads,
attentively following, in the most profound silence, the words of
the priest who was leading their devotions. They kept their ranks,
each in his proper position; the lines of troops looked like so many
hedges or walls parting out the wide plain, on which they were drawn
up. According to its rank in the service each corps was posted nearer
to, or farther from, the place where the Sultan stood. The troops were
dressed in brilliant uniforms, their head-dresses rivalling snow in
whiteness. The scene which met my eyes was charming, the different
colours having a most pleasing effect. The men were so motionless that
they seemed rooted to the ground on which they stood. There was no
coughing, no clearing the throat, and no voice to be heard, and no one
looked behind him or moved his head. When the priest pronounced the
name of Mahomet all alike bowed their heads to their knees at the same
moment, and when he uttered the name of God they fell on their faces
in worship and kissed the ground. The Turks join in their devotions
with great ceremony and attention, for if they even raise a finger to
scratch their head, their prayer, they think, will not be accepted.
‘For,’ say they, ‘if you had to converse with Pashas would you not
do so with your body in a respectful attitude? how much more are we
bounden to observe the same reverence towards God, who is so far above
the highest earthly eminence?’ Such is their logic. When prayers were
finished, the serried ranks broke up, and the whole plain was gradually
covered with their surging masses. Presently the Sultan’s servants
appeared bringing their master’s dinner, when, lo and behold! the
Janissaries laid their hands on the dishes, seized their contents
and devoured them, amid much merriment. This licence is allowed by
ancient custom as part of that day’s festivity, and the Sultan’s wants
are otherwise provided for. I returned to Constantinople full of the
brilliant spectacle, which I had thoroughly enjoyed.
I have a little more news to give you about Bajazet and then I will
release you, as you are probably as tired of reading as I am of
writing. Bajazet, as you have heard, having started from Amasia with
his escort in light marching order, travelled with such speed that his
arrival almost everywhere anticipated the tidings of his approach, and
many who had been ordered to look out for his passage were taken by
surprise, before their preparations were completed. He gave the Pasha
of Siwas the slip by the following stratagem. There were two roads,
of which the Pasha had occupied the one which was of importance to
Bajazet; the latter, however, sent some pretended deserters to tell
the Pasha that he had already passed by the other road. As the Pasha
thought this not improbable, he left his position on the road he had
occupied, and hastily led his forces across to the other road, by which
he believed Bajazet to be going, and so left him a free passage.
He likewise imposed on the Pasha of Erzeroum by a somewhat similar
stratagem. When he was not far off and knew there was much danger
awaiting him in his passage through that Pashalik, he had recourse
to the following device; he sent messengers to salute him, and told
them to relate his misfortunes in the most pathetic manner, in hopes
of exciting his sympathy. They were to conclude their appeal by
asking permission to get shoes for the horses, telling the Pasha, the
Prince’s troops were quite worn out by the hardships of the march,
and that he intended remaining a day or two where there was plenty of
fodder, in order to rest his horses, and to put new shoes on them. The
Pasha courteously replied that he did not forbid him to take what he
wanted; whether he was influenced by pity for Bajazet’s misfortunes,
or by inclination to his party, as some people thought, I cannot say;
perhaps, after all, his design was to throw Bajazet off his guard and
so take him prisoner, or time may have been needed to concentrate his
troops, who had been surprised by Bajazet’s rapid march. He also sent
him some small presents as a compliment, and congratulated him on his
safe arrival; but Bajazet, instead of making any halt, pressed on,
allowing his troops no rest by day and only a short one by night.
When the Pasha of Erzeroum became aware that Bajazet was hurrying
on, he quickened his movements and joined the other Pashas who were
following in pursuit, for, as soon as it was known that Bajazet had
left Amasia, Solyman sent several Sanjak-beys and Pashas after him,
threatening them with the loss of their heads if they did not bring him
back, alive or dead. But this was all in vain on account of Bajazet’s
hasty departure, and also because the fugitive’s speed was greater than
that of his pursuers. But after all, Bajazet’s flight cost none more
dear than the above-mentioned Pasha of Erzeroum, who was removed from
his Pashalik by Solyman, and put to death by Selim, with his two young
sons, after they had first been horribly ill-treated. Meanwhile, both
Selim and Mehemet Pasha and the Beyler-bey of Greece, although a long
way behind, continued their pursuit of Bajazet.
His departure came upon Solyman as a very heavy blow, for he surmised
correctly that Bajazet was making for Persia; he could scarcely be kept
from marching, with the whole Imperial guard, both foot and horse,
and making a demonstration against the King of Persia. But his rash
impetuosity was moderated by his counsellors, who pointed out what
danger might arise from the disaffection of the soldiery. There was
also the risk of Bajazet’s marching round by the North of the Black
Sea and the Sea of Azoff, and suddenly making a desperate attack on
Constantinople; it would then be in his power to create an army by
offering their freedom to the slaves and the recruits whom they call
_Agiamoglans_,[224] and to penetrate into the deserted capital. By such
warnings they induced Solyman to abandon his design. Moreover, Bajazet
left notices on the doorposts of the mosques, wherever he passed,
promising to give double pay to any soldiers who went over to his
side. These proclamations made the officers anxious, as they felt they
could not trust their men, and this feeling was increased by the fact
that remarks were constantly heard in the ranks, which showed a strong
tendency in Bajazet’s favour.
At last Bajazet reached the river Araxes, which divides the Turkish
territory from Persia. Even after he had passed it he did not feel
secure, and, to prevent the Sanjak-beys, who were in pursuit, from
crossing, he placed on the bank of the river, as guards, some of his
men who had volunteered for that duty. They were, however, easily
routed by the Sanjak-beys, who penetrated a considerable distance
beyond the Persian frontiers, till they met Persian officers with a
large body of cavalry, who demanded what they meant and what they
wanted in foreign territory. The Turks replied that they were trying
to recover the runaway son of their Sovereign. The Persians retorted
that the Turks were violating the treaty by crossing the frontier with
arms in their hands. There was peace and friendship, they said, between
Shah Tahmasp and their master, and this state of things ought to be
respected. The Shah’s decision about Bajazet would be one worthy of
himself, and he would loyally fulfil his obligations. Meanwhile they
would do well if they departed from a country in which they had no
right to be. By these arguments the Turks were induced to return.
Soon afterwards there came to Bajazet envoys sent by the Persian
King to salute him and enquire the reason of his coming, and also to
ascertain what forces he brought with him.[225] Bajazet told them that
he had been driven from his country by his brother’s wrongful acts and
his father’s partiality, and had fled to the protection of the King
of Persia, as the only sanctuary he had left, and expressed his hope
that the Shah, remembering the uncertainties of human fortune, would
not refuse the prayers of a suppliant who had no one else to help him.
In reply to this appeal he received a message from the Shah, saying
that he had acted but inconsiderately in coming to him, as he knew that
there was peace and friendship between himself and his father, and also
that they had agreed to hold each other’s friends and foes as their
own, which terms he felt bound to observe. However, as circumstances
had taken this course, he bade him come in God’s name, give him his
hand and become his guest; he promised that he would leave nothing
undone to restore him to favour with his father.
Accordingly Bajazet paid a visit to the Shah,—a visit which was
destined to be his ruin. At first everything presented an aspect
of welcome, the Shah’s countenance wore a cheerful and friendly
expression, gifts were exchanged as between host and guest, and they
had frequent interviews and feasted at the same table, but these
courtesies only served as screens for their secret intentions. A
marriage alliance was also spoken of, one of the daughters of the
Persian King being betrothed to Orchan, Bajazet’s son, and Bajazet’s
hopes were confirmed that the Shah would not rest till Solyman had
given him the Pashalik of Mesopotamia, Babylonia, or Erzeroum. The
Shah represented the advantages of these governments in glowing terms,
telling him that he could live there without any fear, since he
would be at a distance from his brother and father, while, if he was
threatened with any danger, his retreat was secured, as he could depend
on the protection of his son’s father-in-law, who would defend him and
keep him safe from every possible peril.
The object of such language on the part of the Shah was, in all
probability, to prevent Bajazet’s perceiving the danger he was
incurring. Indeed he believed himself so sure of Tahmasp’s goodwill,
that, when the latter was sending an ambassador to Solyman at
Constantinople for the purpose, as was generally believed, of effecting
a reconciliation between him and his son, he desired the envoy to tell
Solyman, that though he had lost one father in Turkey he had found
another in Persia. Whether, however, the Persian King was sincere in
his efforts to restore Bajazet to his father’s favour by means of the
numerous ambassadors he sent, may be reasonably doubted. For my own
part, I consider it more probable that in all this the Shah’s concern
for Bajazet’s welfare was pretended rather than genuine, and that his
real object was to sound Solyman’s intentions; for in the meantime
there was no pause in making all the preparations for his destruction.
When they were sufficiently advanced, it was artfully suggested that
his present quarters were too small for such a number of men, that
provisions were getting scarce, and that it was advisable to distribute
them among the neighbouring villages; this arrangement, it was urged,
would be a more convenient one in many ways, and especially with regard
to the supply of provisions. Shah Tahmasp, who had not his father’s
courage, was indeed dreadfully alarmed, fancying that he was cherishing
a serpent in his bosom. This is my own opinion, though there are people
who maintain that it was not the Shah’s original intention to destroy
Bajazet, but that he was forced to do so by the monstrous wickedness
of some of the latter’s friends, who, forgetful of the benefits they
had received and the ties of hospitality, urged Bajazet to rob him of
his kingdom; that unmistakable proofs of such intentions were detected,
nay, that an atrocious speech made by one of Bajazet’s chief officers
was brought to the King’s ears; namely, ‘What are we about, and why
do we hesitate to kill this heretic and seize his throne? Can any one
doubt that through his treacherous plots we are in imminent danger of
destruction?’ This it was, they say, that induced Shah Tahmasp to stoop
to an expedient dictated by necessity rather than by honour.
Though the forces Bajazet had were not large, yet they were warlike,
and among them were many brave men who were ready for any adventure;
the Persian King was afraid of them, and not without reason either.
He knew that his dynasty was one of recent origin, and that it had
obtained the throne under the pretence of religion.[226] Who could
guarantee that among the numerous nations which owed him allegiance
there would not be many persons who were dissatisfied, and consequently
ripe for revolution? For them nothing more opportune could occur than
Bajazet’s arrival, as he was a bold and vigorous man in the flower of
youth, and had the most important qualification for a leader; namely,
that his position was desperate. Hitherto, the Shah reflected, he
seemed to be more in Bajazet’s power than Bajazet in his. A change must
be made, and he must no longer treat him as a guest, but chain him like
a wild beast. Nor would this be difficult to accomplish, if his troops
were first dispersed, and he were then surprised and seized himself,
when none of his men could help him. It was obvious that he could not
be captured in open fight without much bloodshed. The Persian troops
were enervated by a long peace, and were not concentrated; Bajazet’s,
on the other hand, were on the spot, ready for action, and well drilled.
Accordingly it was suggested to Bajazet that he should separate his
troops, and all the arguments in favour of such a course were pressed
upon him. He felt that the appeal was unanswerable, though some
gallant men in his service had the sagacity to see that the proposed
arrangement wore a most suspicious appearance. But how could he refuse
in his helpless position, when he had no other hope left, when his
life was at the mercy of the Shah,—indeed he might deem himself lucky
to be alive at all,—and when to doubt his host’s honour might be taken
as a sign of the most treacherous intentions? So the poor fellows, who
were never to meet again, were conducted to different villages and
quartered where the Persians thought fit. After waiting a few days
for a favourable opportunity, these scattered detachments were each
surrounded by greatly superior forces, and butchered. Their horses,
arms, clothes, and all their other effects became the booty of their
murderers. At the same time Bajazet was seized while at the Shah’s
table, and was thrown into chains. Some people think this violation of
the laws of hospitality greatly aggravated the baseness of the act. His
children likewise were placed in confinement.
You wished to have the latest news of Bajazet, so here it is for you.
As to what is in store for him in the future, I think no one would
find it easy to predict. Opinions vary; some people think he will
be made a Sanjak-bey, and as such will be given Babylonia or some
similar province, on the most distant frontiers of the dominions of
the two monarchs. Others place no hope either in Tahmasp or Solyman,
considering it all over with Bajazet, who, they think, will either be
sent back here for execution, or perish miserably in prison. They argue
that the Persian King, when he used force against Bajazet, did not do
so without much consideration, fearing no doubt that if that active
and high-spirited young man, who was a far better soldier than his
brother, should succeed his father on the throne, much mischief would
be thereby caused to his kingdom and himself. It would be much more
to his advantage, if Selim, who is naturally inclined to gluttony and
sloth, should become Sultan, since in that case there is good hope of
peace and quiet for many a year. They are of opinion that for these
reasons the Shah will never let Bajazet escape alive out of his hands,
but will prefer to kill him in his prison; giving out a story, which no
one could consider improbable, that the young man’s spirit had given
way under confinement, and that he had died from mental depression.
However that may be, it is in my judgment impossible for him to hope
that one, whom he has so deeply injured, will ever be his friend.
You see different people have different opinions; I consider myself,
that, whatever the end of the business may be, it will be a complicated
one, as indeed I wish it may, for the success of our negotiations
is closely connected with the fortunes of Bajazet. They will not
be inclined to turn their arms against us till they see their way
out of this difficulty. Even now they are trying to force on me
for transmission to the Emperor despatches, and I know not what
proposals for peace, which, they want me to believe, are very nearly
in accordance with his wishes, but they do not give me any copy of
them according to the usual practice, and this omission makes me
suspect that they are not sincere. On this account I make a rule of
resolutely refusing to forward despatches to the Emperor, without the
purport of them being previously communicated to me. But, if after
presenting me with a copy they should still deceive me, then I should
be in possession of a document, which would at once free me from
all responsibility, and convict them of dishonesty. In this course
I am determined to persevere, and so to relieve my master from the
difficulty of replying to their quibbling despatches, for he will
accept no terms of peace that are not honourable. But you will say
that by refusing proposals of peace, whatever their nature may be, a
step towards war seems to be taken. Well, for my part, I consider it
better policy to wait and see what will happen, without committing
ourselves to any engagements. Meanwhile I will take the blame of not
forwarding the despatches upon myself, and if the Turkish negotiators
are disappointed in their hopes with regard to Bajazet’s speedy death,
I do not think I shall find much trouble in clearing myself of it. In
the other alternative, I shall have somewhat greater difficulties to
overcome, but I consider that I shall have very good explanations to
offer, and shall be able to assign adequate reasons for all I have
done. The Turks are not in the habit of showing resentment towards
those who they see are taking pains to manage their master’s affairs to
the best of their ability. Besides, the Sultan is getting old, which is
another point in my favour, as in the opinion of the Pashas he requires
rest, and ought not to be exposed unnecessarily to the hardships of
war. As regards myself, the policy I have sketched out must of course
involve me in further trouble and vexation; but I feel that I am right,
and if matters turn out as I hope, I shall have no reason to regret the
sacrifice I am making.
Now you have got a book, not a letter. If I am to blame for this, you
are equally so; you imposed the task; the labour bestowed on this
despatch was taken at your desire. Complaisance is the only thing I
can be blamed for, and yet this between friends is often considered
a ground for commendation. I have some hopes however that you will
find pleasure in reading what I found pleasure in writing. After I
had once commenced my letter I was tempted to spin it out. For whilst
writing to you I found that I felt free once more, and fancied myself
to be enjoying your society in a far-distant land; you must therefore
consider any trifling passages in my letter as the casual chit chat
of a crony by your side. A letter has always been thought entitled
to the same allowances as conversation. Neither ought to be closely
criticised. Amongst friends you may say what first comes uppermost, and
the same rule holds good when one is writing to intimate friends; to
weigh one’s expressions would be to abandon one’s privileges. Just as
public buildings require the perfection of workmanship, while nothing
of the sort is expected in domestic offices, so this letter of mine
does not pretend to be a work of general public interest, but simply
some unpretentious jottings for the benefit of yourself and the friends
to whom you may care to show it. If it only pleases you, I for my part
am content. My Latin, some one might say, would bear improvement, and
also my style. Well, I never said they would not. But what more can you
expect of a man than his best? It is my ability, not my will, that is
in fault. Besides it is absurd to expect scholarship from this land of
barbarism. In fine, you must agree, if you do not despise my present
letter, to receive an account of my remaining adventures till I return
to Vienna, if, indeed, I ever do return; but whether I shall or not, I
will now end and trouble you no further. Farewell.
Constantinople, June 1, 1560.
LETTER IV.