Djerbé—Their fleet surprised by Pialé Pasha—Flight of
the Duke of Medina to Sicily—Arrival of the news at
Constantinople—Exultation of the Turks—Unsuccessful
attempt of Don Alvaro de Sandé to cut his way out,
followed by the surrender of the garrison—Their hardships
during the siege—Triumphal return of the victorious
fleet to Constantinople—Solyman’s demeanour—Treatment
of the prisoners—Busbecq rescues the royal standard
of Naples—Fate of the Duke of Medina’s son—De Sandé
brought before the Divan and then imprisoned in the
Castle of the Black Sea—Busbecq’s efforts to relieve
the prisoners—Complaints of the ingratitude of some
of them—Charity of Italian merchants—One notable
exception—Religious scruples of the Sultan—He prohibits
the importation of wine to Constantinople—Exemption
of Busbecq and his household—Story of some
Greeks—Busbecq’s request to leave his house on account
of the plague refused by Roostem, but granted by Ali,
his successor—Death of Roostem—Busbecq’s physician
dies of the plague—Description of the Princes’
Islands—Fishing there—Pinnas—Franciscan Friar—Death
rate from the plague at Constantinople—Turkish notions
of Destiny—The Metropolitan Metrophanes—Return to
Constantinople—Characters of Ali Pasha and Roostem
contrasted—Anecdote of Roostem—The Emperor presents
Busbecq with the money intended for Roostem—Busbecq’s
interview with Ali—Accident of the latter—Incursion of
John Basilicus into Moldavia—Conversation with Ali on the
subject—Imprisoned pilgrims released by the intervention
of Lavigne, the French ambassador—His character—Story
of him and Roostem—Account of the Goths and Tartars of
the Crimea—Gothic vocabulary—Turkish pilgrim’s account
of China and of his journey thither—Extraordinary feats
of Dervishes—Strictness of Busbecq’s imprisonment
relaxed—His troubles in consequence of the quarrels
between his servants and the Turks—Story given as
an example—Annoyance of the Porte at the Treaty of
Cateau Cambrésis—Ibrahim, the first dragoman of the
Porte, degraded from office through Lavigne’s, and
restored to it through Busbecq’s, influence—Failure of
Salviati’s attempt to procure the release of the Spanish
prisoners—By Ibrahim’s advice Busbecq intervenes and
obtains their release—The Mufti’s opinion—Continuation
of the story of Bajazet—Persian ambassadors—Open
house kept by Pashas before Ramazan—Story of a
Khodja at a Pasha’s table—Solyman’s negotiations for
Bajazet’s surrender—Strong feeling of the army in his
favour—Hassan Aga and the Pasha of Marasch sent to the
Shah, who gives leave for Bajazet’s execution—He and
his sons are executed in prison—Touching account of
the death of the youngest at Broussa—Argument between
Busbecq and his cavasse about predestination—Peace
negotiations unfavourably affected by Bajazet’s
death—Further difficulties apprehended on account
of the defection of some Hungarian nobles from John
Sigismund to Ferdinand—Terms of peace previously
settled adhered to notwithstanding the remonstrances
of John Sigismund’s ambassadors—The dragoman Ibrahim
selected to return with Busbecq—Ali’s presents to
Busbecq—Busbecq’s farewell audience of Solyman—He starts
on his return—At Sophia Leyva and Requesens part company
and go to Ragusa—Pleasant journey home of Busbecq
and de Sandé—Quarrel at Tolna between the Janissary
stationed there and one of Busbecq’s servants—Arrival
at Buda after meeting Turkish fanatics—Arrival at
Gran, Komorn, Vienna—Busbecq learns that the Emperor
is at the Diet at Frankfort—He proceeds thither with
Ibrahim and is graciously received—Coronation of
Maximilian—Peace ratified—Busbecq longs for home—His
bad opinion of courts—His preference for a quiet
country life—Panegyric of Ferdinand—His Fabian tactics
against the Turks justified—His private life—Animals
and curiosities brought back by Busbecq—Balsam—Lemnian
earth—Coins—MSS.—Dioscorides—Conclusion.
I must first acknowledge the kind and cordial manner in which you
congratulate me on my return. Next, as regards your request for a
narrative of my experiences during the latter part of my embassy,
and for any pleasant stories I may have heard, I beg to assure
your Excellency that I am fully sensible of the obligation I have
undertaken. I have not forgotten it, and have no intention of
defrauding so obliging a creditor as yourself. So here at your service
are the events that followed my last letter, whether trifling, amusing,
or serious. I intend, as in my other letters, to jot things down as
they occur to me, though in this case I shall have to begin with a most
disheartening tale.
I had scarcely recovered from the bad news of Bajazet’s misfortunes
and imprisonment, when we were overwhelmed by a piece of intelligence,
which was equally unfavourable. Tidings were then expected at
Constantinople of the result of the expedition of the Turkish fleet,
which had been summoned to Meninx by the reports of the Spanish
successes on that island, which is now called Djerbé.[227] Solyman was
deeply hurt at hearing that this island had been taken by the
Christians, new outworks added to the citadel, and a garrison thrown
into the place; as master of a great empire in the full tide of
prosperity, he felt that he must avenge the insult. For this reason
he determined to assist a nation which was attached to him by the
ties of a common faith, and despatched an army and fleet to their
assistance under the command of the Admiral Pialé Pasha, who had manned
his ships with a numerous body of picked soldiers. The men, however,
were anxious, dreading the length of the voyage, and being cowed by
the prestige which the enemy had acquired. The great successes gained
by the Spanish arms both in ancient and modern times, had made a deep
impression on the minds of the Turks. They remembered the Emperor
Charles, and heard every day of his son King Philip, who had inherited
both the valour and the realms of his father. Hence great anxiety
prevailed, and many, under the idea they were bound on a desperate
service, made their wills before leaving Constantinople, like men
convinced they were fated to return no more. Thus the whole city was
distracted by various apprehensions, and everyone, whether he embarked
or not, suffered keenly from the strain caused by the uncertainty of
the result of the war.
But the winds were favourable to the Turkish fleet; our men were taken
by surprise, and such a panic ensued, that they had neither the courage
to fight nor the sense to fly; some galleys that were ready for action
sought safety in flight; the remainder ran aground, and were either
miserably wrecked on the shoals, or surrounded and taken by the enemy.
The Duke of Medina, the commander of the expedition, retreated into the
citadel with John Andrew Doria, the admiral. Favoured by the darkness,
they embarked early in the night in a small boat, and boldly steering
through the enemy’s blockading squadron, reached Sicily in safety.
Pialé sent a galley here with news of this victory, and, to proclaim
more openly the tidings she brought, she trailed in the water from her
stern a large flag, on which, according to the account the Turks gave,
was embroidered a representation of our Saviour Christ on the Cross.
When she entered the harbour, the report of the Christian defeat ran
through the whole city, and the Turks began congratulating each other
on their great success. They gathered in crowds at my door, and asked
my men in mockery, had they any brother, kinsman, or relation in the
Spanish fleet? ‘If so,’ said they, ‘you will soon have the pleasure of
seeing them.’ They were loud moreover in extolling the valour of their
people, and expressing their scorn at the cowardice of the Christians.
‘What power,’ they asked, ‘had we left that could resist them, now that
the Spaniard was vanquished?’
My men were obliged to listen to these speeches to their great sorrow,
but they had to bear them, as God had so ordered it, and it could
not be changed. One thought alone sustained us, the hope that the
defence of the citadel, which the Spaniards still held with a strong
garrison, could be made good, till winter or some accident should
compel the enemy to raise the siege. We had not much hope, however, as
we knew that success was far more likely to attend the victors than
the vanquished, and so indeed it proved, for the besieged being hard
pressed and in great want of everything, especially water, at last
surrendered the citadel and themselves.
Don Alvaro de Sandé, who commanded the troops, a man of great courage
and reputation, when he saw they could hold out no longer, attempted to
sally out of the citadel with a few attendants, and seize a small ship,
and so cross to Sicily; hoping thus to save the high character he had
earned as a soldier from the disgrace which accompanies a surrender,
however unavoidable; for he was determined that, whoever might have to
bear the responsibility, it should not rest on his shoulders.
The result of his attempt was that the citadel fell into the hands
of the enemy, for the soldiers opened the gates, which they could
no longer defend, in the hope of appeasing the enemy by a voluntary
surrender. Don Juan de Castella refused to leave the outwork entrusted
to his charge, but fought against the enemy with his brother at his
side, till he was wounded at last, and taken prisoner.
The citadel had been defended by the Spaniards with great resolution
for more than three months, though almost every necessary, and—worst of
all—even the hope of relief, had failed them. In that burning climate
nothing was more trying to the troops than the want of water. There
was only one reservoir, and though it was large and well supplied with
water, it was not sufficient for such a number. Accordingly a fixed
allowance was distributed to each man, just sufficient to sustain life.
Many eked out their ration by adding sea-water, which had been purified
of most of its salt by distillation. This expedient had been imparted
to them, when they had sore need of it, by a skilful alchemist;
however, it was not everyone that had the necessary apparatus, so that
many were to be seen stretched on the ground at the point of death with
their mouths gaping, and continually repeating the one word ‘water.’
If anyone had compassion on them and poured a little water into their
mouths, they would get up and raise themselves to a sitting posture,
till, when the good effect of the draught was exhausted, they would
fall back on the same spot, and at last expire of thirst. Accordingly,
besides those who were slain, and those who died from sickness and the
want of medical attendance on that desolate spot, numbers perished in
the manner I have described from want of water.
In the month of September the victorious fleet returned to
Constantinople, bringing with it the prisoners, the spoils, and the
galleys they had taken from our people, a sight as joyful for the eyes
of the Turks, as it was grievous and lamentable for us.
That night the fleet anchored off some rocks near Constantinople,
as they did not wish to enter the harbour till morning, when the
spectacle would be more striking, and there would be a greater crowd of
spectators. Solyman had gone down to the colonnade close to the mouth
of the harbour, which forms part of his gardens, that he might have
a nearer view of his fleet as it entered, and also of the Christian
officers who were exhibited on the deck. On the poop of the admiral’s
galley were Don Alvaro de Sandé and the commanders of the Sicilian and
Neapolitan galleys, Don Berenguer de Requesens and Don Sancho de Leyva.
The captured galleys had been stripped of their oars and upper works
and reduced to mere hulks, in which condition they were towed along;
and thus made to appear small, ugly, and contemptible compared with
those of the Turks.
Those who saw Solyman’s face in this hour of triumph failed to detect
in it the slightest trace of undue elation. I can myself positively
declare, that when I saw him two days later on his way to the mosque,
the expression of his countenance was unchanged: his stern features
had lost nothing of their habitual gloom; one would have thought that
the victory concerned him not, and that this startling success of his
arms had caused him no surprise. So self-contained was the heart of
that grand old man, so schooled to meet each change of Fortune however
great, that all the applause and triumph of that day wrung from him no
sign of satisfaction.
A few days afterwards the prisoners were conducted to the Palace. The
poor fellows were half dead from the privations they had undergone. The
greater part could scarcely stand on their feet; many fell down from
weakness and fainted; some were actually dying. They were insulted and
hustled on the way, and compelled to wear their armour with the front
turned to the back like so many scarecrows.
Around them were heard the voices of the Turks, who taunted them,
and promised themselves the dominion of the world. For now that the
Spaniard had been conquered, they said, what enemy was left that could
be feared?
There was in that expedition a Turkish officer of the highest rank,
with whom I was acquainted. The first or royal standard of the
Neapolitan galleys, bearing the arms of all the provinces of the Kings
of Spain quartered with the Imperial Eagle, had fallen into his hands.
When I heard that he meant to present it to Solyman, I determined to
make an effort to anticipate him and get possession of it. The matter
was easily arranged by my sending him a present of two silk dresses.
Thus I prevented the glorious coat-of-arms of Charles V. from remaining
with the enemy as a perpetual memorial of that defeat.
Besides the officers I have mentioned, there were among the prisoners
two gentlemen of high birth, namely, Don Juan de Cardona, the
son-in-law of Don Berenguer, and Don Gaston, the son of the Duke of
Medina; the latter, though hardly yet arrived at manhood, had held
a high post in his father’s army. Don Juan had cleverly managed, by
promising a large sum, to get himself left at Chios, which is still
occupied by its ancient Genoese inhabitants.[228] Pialé had concealed
Gaston in hopes of getting a great price for his ransom. But this
trick proved well nigh fatal to its contriver. For Solyman, having by
some means or other got wind of it, was extremely displeased, and at
Roostem’s instigation made diligent search for Gaston’s hiding-place,
intending to produce him in evidence of Pialé’s guilt, and thereby
justify the execution of the latter.[229] But the plan failed through
Gaston’s death. Some believe he died of the plague, but it is more
probable that Pialé had him murdered, for fear of anything transpiring
against himself. At any rate, he could not be traced, though the agents
of his father, the Duke of Medina, spared no pains to find him. One may
well suspect that Pialé had no scruple in securing his own safety by
the murder of Gaston. Notwithstanding, he lived a long time in great
fear, and avoiding Constantinople, on various pretexts kept coasting
about the islands of the Ægean with a few galleys. He was afraid to
come into the presence of his offended master, feeling sure that he
would be forthwith manacled, tried, and condemned. At last Solyman
was softened by the entreaties of the chief of the eunuchs of his
bedchamber, and of his son Selim, and gave him his royal pardon, the
very words of which I am glad to be able to repeat. ‘As far as I am
concerned let him enjoy pardon and impunity for his terrible crime; but
after this life may God, that most just avenger of evil deeds, inflict
on him the punishment he deserves.’ So rooted is his conviction, that
no evil deed ought to go unpunished.
Fortune was more favourable to Don Juan de Cardona. Luckily for him his
amiable sister is the wife of a distinguished Austrian Baron, Adam von
Dietrichstein,[230] who, after a great deal of trouble, got him sent
back to Spain, on my becoming surety for his ransom.
When de Sandé was brought into the Divan, or Assembly of the Pashas,
and Roostem asked him, ‘What had put it into his master’s head to
attack the territories of others when he could not defend his own?’
he replied, ‘This was no matter for him to decide; his duty was to be
faithful in executing his master’s orders to the utmost of his ability.
He had done his best and had been unfortunate.’ Then kneeling down he
entreated the Pashas to intercede with Solyman for his life, saying,
that he had a wife and a young family at home, and he entreated them to
spare his life for their sake. Roostem replied, ‘His Emperor was of a
clement disposition, and he had good hopes of obtaining mercy for him.’
So de Sandé was ordered to be taken to the fortress they call
Caradenis, which means ‘of the Black Sea,’ but he had not gone far when
he was recalled. The only reason for his being sent for again was, that
the chief of the bedchamber eunuchs, whom I mentioned before, and who
has great influence with the Sultan, had not yet seen him, and wished
to do so. It was noticed that as he came back his nerves, usually so
strong, appeared to be shaken, and he seemed to be afraid that the
Pashas had altered their decision, and were bringing him back for
execution.
The other prisoners of importance were confined in the Tower of Pera,
or Galata, as it is sometimes called. Among them were Don Sancho de
Leyva, with his two bastard sons, and also Don Berenguer.
After I had been informed of their condition and the great privations
they were undergoing, I felt it my duty to come to their relief. I
therefore sent visitors to express my sympathy, and assure them of my
readiness to give them such assistance as lay in my power. From that
time my house was the general rendezvous of all the prisoners, nor was
I ever backward in giving them help as far as my means allowed.
The Turks consider they have made ample provision for their prisoners,
if they have bread and water enough. As to what the age of each
prisoner, his habits and state of health, or the season of the year may
demand, they take no account, and treat all in the same way, whether
they are sick or well or just recovering from illness, strong or
delicate, old or young. I had, therefore, a wide field for the exercise
of my charity, inasmuch as each case required special treatment. A
great multitude of the sick were lying in a mosque in Pera, the town
situated opposite Byzantium, immediately across the bay. About them
the Turks did not think it worth while to take any more trouble,
indeed they considered them as good as dead. Many of them died from
want of proper nourishment, either during the illness itself or during
convalescence; for they had no bowl of soup or dainty dish to tempt
their feeble appetite, and thus enable them gradually to regain their
strength. Being informed of this, I commissioned a citizen of Pera, who
was a friend of mine, to buy some sheep every day, boil them at home,
and divide them among the prisoners, giving meat to some and broth to
others, as each man’s case happened to require, and this was of service
to not a few. This I did for the sick; those who were well required
help of another kind.
My house from early morning till evening was filled with a crowd of
those who sought assistance for their different troubles. Some, who
had been accustomed to sumptuous tables, could not digest their daily
ration of dry black bread, and required the means of procuring some
relish to eat with it. There were others whose stomachs could not
endure perpetual water-drinking, and wanted a little wine to mix with
it. Some needed blankets, as they had nothing but the bare ground to
sleep on, and therefore suffered from cold at night; one was in want
of a cloak, another of shoes. The most numerous requests were for
the means wherewith to fee their jailers, and thus render them more
merciful.
To cure all these troubles money was the only remedy, so that a day
never passed without several pieces of gold being thus expended.
But this evil was endurable and not fatal; another and a more ruinous
one was impending from the persons who demanded that larger sums
should be lent them, or wanted me to be surety for the amount of
their ransom. None of them lacked some plausible pretext for puffing
himself off, and maintaining that his own case had the best claim on
my bounty. One put forward his high rank and his powerful relations or
connections, another his long service and his captain’s commission,
a third his great wealth at home and his ability to pay the debt
without delay. Some too boasted of their own valour, and their glorious
exploits in war. All, in a word, thought they had a fair claim for
assistance on some ground or other. If a question was asked as to their
credit and whether they would remember to pay, they told me to make
myself perfectly easy; for what, said they, could be more unjust than
to involve the man who had done them this great service in pecuniary
difficulties and losses, when they owed to him their freedom and their
lives, and had been rescued by him as it were from the very jaws of
death?
And indeed it was most grievous for me to hear, ‘Unless I have this
moment in ready money two hundred pieces of gold, it is all over with
me; I shall be taken over into Asia, or sent I know not whither as
a galley-slave,[231] without any hope of ever recovering my freedom
or seeing my home again. There is a merchant, who will not refuse
to supply goods sufficient to raise the sum, if you will only go
security.’ Such statements were the only warranty they generally gave
me; but I could not help being influenced by them when I reflected that
what they said was true. Unless they were assisted, a large part of
them must inevitably perish by various calamities, and there was no one
on the spot, who had greater means of helping them than myself, or on
whom they had a stronger claim.
But you will say against me, I know, ‘No one is to be trusted;’ but
who in the world could suppose that anyone would be such a monster
of ingratitude as not to repay the money, which had been advanced to
save his life? Suppose one or two lacked, not the will, but the means.
Well, I must risk it, and after all what is spent in doing a good turn
to a good man is never really lost. The majority at any rate will act
honestly.
I was induced by such considerations to pledge my credit for many
thousand crowns, and to plunge myself into such a deep abyss, that I do
not know how I am to get out of it; indeed I am afraid that in getting
them out of prison I have got myself into it. I have been explicit on
this subject, as I wish to clear myself of blame for want of judgment
in being too ready to lend. I must admit that the neglect to repay
in certain cases has made me suspect that I shall not get out of the
business without heavy loss. Nay, I have been already obliged to pay
the money for which I went security for some of them, and I remember
that remarks of certain among them came to my ears, who, though they
had been saved by my good offices, yet made a joke of my extreme
readiness in complying with their requests, and dubbed me for my pains
a scatter-brained fool. From this I can gather how some of them will
treat their obligations. But all this is in God’s hands. However it may
turn out, I do not see why I should regret having done a kindness to
many.
Ipsa sibi virtus semper pulcherrima merces.
I look for no extraordinary recompense for myself, and wish no
honours, no statue voted me. All I ask is, that they should carry
their gratitude so far as to repay honestly what I have spent to save
their lives. I do not despair of this from so gallant a nation as the
Spaniards.
I am glad to say that I not only did my part in contributing, but also
by my example was the means of inducing many others to come forward and
give valuable assistance. There are among the citizens and residents of
Pera many Italian merchants, and these displayed extraordinary zeal in
assisting the prisoners. There was, however, one exception, and I shall
never forget his reasoning on the matter, it was so absurd. He was an
Italian Greek, _i.e._, both in birth and manners half Greek and half
Italian. When all his countrymen were doing their utmost to forward
the good work, he never could be induced to spend a farthing on any of
the prisoners. When he was accused on that score, he defended himself
thus, in broken and barbarous Italian, for Greek was more familiar to
him. ‘I do not know what sort of people these are, but I can easily
guess they have not been brought into this misery except by the just
judgment of God. I will not run counter to the Divine Will; as far as I
am concerned, let them stay in the place where God has chosen them to
be. I shall not be surprised if you, who so daringly come between them
and the decrees of Providence, have reason to repent of it hereafter.
No one shall persuade me to lay out on them as much as a single
penny.’ Such was his view of the matter. So much for this foolish
prognosticator.
This naval defeat of the Christians, coupled with Bajazet’s disaster,
caused me great anxiety; I was afraid that I should find the Turks
elated by success, and consequently more exacting in my negotiations
for peace. Besides the public misfortunes, I also sustained a personal
loss; the plague invaded my house, carrying off one of my most
faithful servants, and causing a panic among the other members of my
household.
Of this I will speak a little later, when I have mentioned another
trouble that befell us, which, though less than the former, caused me
considerable anxiety. The Sultan is becoming every day more scrupulous
in religious matters, or in other words, more superstitious. He used
to enjoy hearing a choir of boys, who sang to the accompaniment of
stringed instruments. But all this has been done away with by the
interposition of some old hag, renowned for her profession of sanctity,
who threatened him with heavy punishments hereafter if he did not give
up this amusement. Alarmed by her denunciations, he broke up all his
musical instruments and threw them into the fire, though they were of
excellent workmanship, and adorned with gold and jewels.
Some one found such fault with him for eating off silver plate, that he
has used nothing but earthenware ever since.