city of Syria on the banks of the Euphrates,[258] and that he intended
from that base to make war on the King of Persia. Nor was the latter
free from apprehension, as he had too often experienced the might of
Solyman’s arm. But the angry Sultan was completely checked by the
opposition of the soldiers and the reluctance they felt to engaging
in such a war. They shrank from an unnatural contest, and began to
desert. A great number of them, especially of the cavalry, returned to
Constantinople, without orders from their commanders, and when bidden
to return to the camp without delay, though they obeyed, they did so in
such a way as to leave it evident how little they could be relied on,
if any accident or change should occur.
For this reason, when it became sufficiently clear to Solyman that the
King of Persia would not surrender Bajazet, pleading that he was afraid
of delivering him up alive, lest by any chance he should escape, and
live to take vengeance for the wrongs he had received, he decided,
as the next best course, to get him executed in Persia. He had great
hopes of prevailing thus far on the Shah; for in the last letter he
had received from that monarch, the latter had expressed his surprise
at his careless method of managing such an important affair; observing
that he had several times sent ambassadors to him, but he, on the
contrary, had sent him nothing but letters and messengers, conduct,
which made him doubt if he were really in earnest. ‘Let him,’ said
the Shah, ‘send noblemen of high authority and name, with whom the
negotiations might be carried on and concluded in a way that befitted
their importance. The Sultan was much in his debt; Bajazet’s coming had
been a great injury to him, and he had incurred great expense before he
had got him into his power. It was just that these circumstances should
be taken into account.’
Solyman saw that money was his object, and so, rather than involve
himself in an unnecessary war, for which he was unfitted by his years,
he determined to follow the Pashas’ advice, and to fight the King of
Persia with money, instead of arms.
Hassan Aga, one of the chiefs of the eunuchs of the bed-chamber, was
first selected as ambassador to Persia, and the Pasha of Marasch, a man
of venerable years, was ordered to accompany him. About the middle of
winter they started with the fullest powers; they travelled, in spite
of the difficulties of the road, with the utmost speed, and at last,
after losing many of their suite, arrived at Casbin, where the King of
Persia was.
They first asked leave to see Bajazet, and found him so disfigured
by the dirt and filth of his prison, and with his hair and beard so
long that they could not recognise him. They were obliged to have
him shaved, and it was only then that Hassan was able to identify
the features of the prince. He had been brought up with him from his
earliest years, and it was especially for that reason that Solyman had
committed this office to him.
It was agreed that the King of Persia should be indemnified for the
loss he said he had sustained, and should receive in addition a present
commensurate with the importance of the business, and that then Solyman
should be allowed to put Bajazet to death.
Hassan hurried back and told his master of the arrangement he had
concluded. The present was prepared, along with the sums demanded as
expenses, and was conveyed, under the protection of a Turkish guard, to
the frontiers of the Persian dominions. Hassan, too, came again as the
unfortunate Bajazet’s appointed executioner, for Solyman had specially
ordered that he should put him to death with his own hands. Accordingly
the bow-string was put round Bajazet’s neck, and he was strangled to
death. He is said to have asked one boon before his death, namely, to
be allowed to see his children and share his kisses among them as a
last token of affection; but this he asked in vain, being told ‘There
was other business which required his immediate attention.’[259]
Such was the end of Bajazet’s ill-starred designs, whose ruin was
precipitated by the very efforts he made to avoid it. His four sons
shared their father’s fate.
I mentioned that one, who had been lately born, had been left at Amasia
when his father fled, and that he had been removed by his grandfather
to Broussa, where he was being brought up; but, when the Sultan knew
it was all over with Bajazet, he sent a eunuch, whom he trusted, to
Broussa to kill him. As the eunuch’s own disposition was too tender,
he took with him one of the doorkeepers, a hard-hearted ruffian who
was capable of any atrocity, to be the child’s murderer. When the
doorkeeper entered the room, and was fitting the cord to the child’s
neck, it smiled at him, and, raising itself as much as it could, threw
up its little arms to give him a hug and a kiss. This so moved the
cruel fellow that he could not bear it, and fell down in a swoon. The
eunuch, who was waiting outside, wondered that he was so long, and
at last going in himself, found the doorkeeper lying senseless on
the ground. He could not afford to let his mission be a failure, and
so with his own hands he stopped for ever the feeble breath of that
innocent child.
From this it was clear enough that the grandson had been spared till
then, not from the mercy of his grandfather, but from the Turkish
superstition of referring all successful enterprises, whatever may have
been the motive from which they were undertaken, to the instigation
of God. On this account, as long as the issue of Bajazet’s attempts
remained doubtful, Solyman determined to do no violence to the child,
for fear that if afterwards Bajazet’s fortunes should take a turn for
the better, he should be found to have been striving against the will
of God. But now that he had perished, and thus had, as it were, been
condemned by the sentence of God, he thought there was no reason for
sparing Bajazet’s son any longer, that according to the proverb, not an
egg of that mischievous crow might be left.
I once had a long argument with my cavasse on this subject, when I was
in the islands I told you about. As I was returning from one of my more
distant excursions, it happened that I could not double a projecting
point, the wind being contrary. After striving for some time in vain,
we were obliged to disembark and dine there, for in case of such an
accident I used always to take about with us in the boat some cooked
provisions. Several Turks, who had been forced to land there from the
same cause, followed my example. My table was laid in a green meadow.
The cavasse and dragomans sat down along with me. Bajazet happening to
be mentioned, the cavasse began to inveigh against him without mercy
for taking up arms against his brother. I on the other hand said, I
thought he was to be pitied, because he had no choice except to take up
arms or submit to certain death. But when the cavasse went on abusing
him in as strong terms as before, I said, ‘You are making out Bajazet
guilty of a monstrous atrocity, but you do not charge Selim, the father
of the present Sultan, with any crime, though he took up arms not
merely to resist his father’s will, but against his very person.’[260]
‘And with good reason,’ replied the cavasse, ‘for the issue of his
enterprise showed clearly enough that he did what he did by prompting
from above, and that it had been predestinated by Heaven.’ I answered,
‘On this principle you will interpret whatever has been undertaken,
although from the most wicked motives, if it proves successful, to be
done rightly, and will ascribe it to God’s will; and will thus make out
God to be the author of evil, nor will you reckon anything to have been
done well or the contrary, except by the result.’
We continued our argument for some time, each of us defending his
position with great spirit and in a high tone of voice. Many texts of
Scripture were cited on either side, ‘Can the vessel say to the potter,
why hast thou formed me thus?’ ‘I will harden Pharaoh’s heart,’ ‘Jacob
have I loved, but Esau have I hated,’ and others, as they came into our
heads.
The Turks, who were a little way off, wondered what we were arguing
about; so, after we had risen and the table had been removed, the
cavasse went straight to his countrymen. They all came round him, and
he appeared to be haranguing them, while they listened with the utmost
attention. Then, as it was just noon, they kept silence and worshipped
God after their manner with foreheads bowed to the ground. The time
seemed long to me till the cavasse came back, as I was anxious to
know what had been the subject of his earnest conversation with his
countrymen. I felt a little afraid that he had repeated something I had
said, and given it an unfavourable turn, although I had had sufficient
proofs of his honesty.
At last, when the wind had gone down, and it was time to embark, we
went on board again, and set out once more. Then the first thing I did
was to ask the cavasse what he had been talking about so earnestly
with his countrymen. He replied with a smile, ‘I will honestly confess
to you what it was. They wanted to know from me what the subject was,
on which we had been arguing so hotly. I said, “Predestination,” and
repeated to them the texts, both those which you had cited on your side
and those which you had recognised when quoted by me. Hence I argued
that it was certain you had read our books, and were well acquainted
with Holy Scripture, and that you wanted nothing to secure eternal
happiness, except being initiated into our religion. Accordingly we
exhorted each other to pray that God would bring you to the true faith;
and these were the prayers you saw us making.’
When the news of Bajazet’s death was brought to Constantinople, I was
seized with great alarm for the issue of our negotiations. We were
indeed in a good position and there seemed to be a prospect of the end
we desired; but our anxiety was renewed by Bajazet’s misfortune, for
fear the Turks should become more haughty, undo what had been done,
and call on us to accept less favourable terms. We had successfully
got past numerous rocks, among them the defeat at Djerbé, Bajazet’s
imprisonment, and the unlucky accident of the expulsion of the Voivode
from Moldavia, yet two formidable ones remained, namely, Bajazet’s
death, of which I have spoken, and another besides, of which I shall
speak presently.
Ali had been the first to communicate the news to me, by a domestic
slave, in these words, ‘Know for certain that Bajazet is dead. You
cannot now go on trifling with us any longer in reliance on his making
a diversion in your favour. Remember that an old friendship can be
restored between two princes who share the same faith more easily
than a new one can be cemented between two Sovereigns of different
religions. Take my word for it, it is not safe for you to go on
shuffling any longer and raising unreal difficulties.’
Such a message made a deep impression on my mind. But, as the news came
from a suspicious quarter, I sent round to my friends to enquire if
any certain intelligence of Bajazet’s death had arrived, and all to a
man replied, that there remained no doubt about it. I then understood
I must shorten sail. There was no possibility of aspiring to better
terms; I ought to be contented if I could maintain the position I
had gained, and if no change for the worse should be made in the
conditions. They had now been before the Sultan for some time, and he
had not been averse to them, subject to a few additions or omissions,
among which however there were some things I was sorry to lose.
Certain points were expressed too obscurely, so as to leave room for
controversy hereafter, if any one were to place an unfair construction
on them. I used my utmost efforts to get these either removed or
altered to our advantage. The conditions had been once or twice sent
to my Emperor for his perusal, and he had graciously approved of them;
but I felt dissatisfied myself, and was always wishing to obtain some
further concession, when, in the midst of my negotiations, the news I
mentioned came upon me like a thunderbolt.
But previously also a serious difficulty had arisen in consequence of
the revolt of certain Hungarian nobles from the Voivode of Transylvania
to the Emperor, or, to speak correctly, in consequence of their return
from error to the path of duty. They brought over with them the forts
and castles which they held.[261]
This startling event was calculated to upset all the steps towards
peace that had been taken. For the Turks were thus supplied with
a plausible argument: ‘No change ought to have been made while
negotiations about the terms of peace were going on. If you are really
anxious for peace you ought to restore the advantage which you have
unfairly gained. The deserters are at liberty to do as they please,
but let the places they hold remain in the hands of the Voivode, our
dependant and vassal.’
However, not only was no such claim asserted by Ali, but when I
expressly put down in the articles of peace that these matters should
remain as they were, he willingly approved of their ratification.
But the ambassadors, who had then recently arrived from the Voivode,
did their utmost to chafe that sore, and filled the court with their
outcries, exclaiming that their unfortunate young master was being
betrayed, the rights of friendship profaned, and enemies preferred to
old friends. These remonstrances had indeed some effect upon the other
Pashas, but not on Ali. So at last it was agreed to adhere to the terms
of peace, as they had been already settled.
Although there could be no doubt about the wishes of my master, yet,
as I remembered that among the attendants of princes there never is
any lack of people ready to blacken the good deeds of others, however
worthy they may be, especially if they are foreigners, I decided that
everything, as far as it could be managed, should be left as open as
possible for his decision. Therefore I negotiated with Ali in such a
way as to point out that, although the proposed conditions did not
altogether answer my Sovereign’s expectations, yet I was confident he
would agree to them, provided that some one was sent with me who could
explain the points that were obscure, or which might in any way be made
a subject of dispute, saying that Ibrahim seemed the best person for
the service, as he could report to them the Emperor’s desire for peace.
He readily agreed to this proposal, so the last touch was thus put to
these protracted peace negotiations.
It is the custom for the Pashas to invite to their table in the Divan
an ambassador who is in favour when he leaves. But as I wished to make
it appear that everything remained undecided and uncertain till a reply
was brought back from my master, this honour was not paid me, the want
of which however did not trouble my peace of mind.[262]
I was anxious to take with me some well-bred horses, and therefore
had charged my servants to go about the market frequently on the
chance of being able to find any to suit. When Ali heard of this, he
had a capital thorough-bred of his own brought out as if for sale.
My men hurried up to bid for him, 120 ducats was named as the price,
and they offered eighty, without knowing who was the owner. The
people who had charge of the horse refused to let him go for such
a low price. But a day or two afterwards, the same horse, with two
others every bit as good, was sent as a present by Ali Pasha, one of
them being a beautifully shaped palfrey. When I thanked him for his
present, he asked me if I did not think the horse, which my men had
wanted to buy in the market for eighty ducats, was not worth more.
I replied, ‘Much more, but they had a commission from me not to go
beyond that price, that I might not incur too great a loss, if they
should, without knowing it, purchase some likely looking animal, which
should afterwards prove unsound. Such things do sometimes happen in
the horse-market.’ He then told me how Turkish horses are fed at the
beginning of a journey, namely, with a very small allowance of food,
and advised me to travel by very short stages, till the horses had got
accustomed to the work, and to divide the journey to Adrianople into
nine or ten days, which usually took only five. He presented me also
with an exceedingly elegant robe interwoven with gold thread, and a
casket full of the finest theriac of Alexandria,[263] and lastly added
a glass bottle of balsam, which he highly commended, saying, ‘The other
presents he had given me he did not think much of, as money could buy
them, but this was a rare gift and his master could give no greater
present to a friendly or allied prince. He had been governor of Egypt
for some years, and thus had an opportunity of procuring it.’ The plant
produces two sorts of juice; there is the cheap black extract made
from the oil of the boiled leaves, while the other kind flows from
an incision in the bark. This last, which is yellow and is the true
balsam, was the one he gave me.[264]
He wished some things sent him in return, namely, a coat of mail large
enough to fit him, as he is very tall and stout, and a powerful horse,
to which he could trust himself without being afraid of a fall, for
being a heavy man he has great difficulty in finding a horse equal
to his weight, and lastly a piece of curled maple or some other wood
similarly marked, with which our countrymen veneer tables.
No presents were given me by Solyman, except the ordinary ones of the
kind usually given to every ambassador on taking leave, such as I had
generally received in former years.
At my farewell audience he curtly inveighed against the insolence of
the Heydons and the soldiers of the garrison of Szigeth. ‘What use,’
said he, ‘has it been for us to make peace here, if the garrison of
Szigeth will break it and continue the war?’ I replied, ‘I would
lay the matter before the Emperor, and I hoped he would do what was
needful.’
Thus auspiciously, towards the end of the month of August, I commenced
my wished-for journey, bringing with me as the fruit of eight years’
exertions a truce for eight years, which however it will be easy to get
extended for as long as we wish, unless some remarkable change should
occur.
When we arrived at Sophia, from which there is a road not only to
Belgrade but to Ragusa, whence it is only a few days’ passage to
Venice, Leyva and Requesens asked my leave to go by Ragusa, which was
their shortest way to Italy, for the purpose of discharging at the
earliest possible date their obligations to the Pashas, and paying off
the debts they had incurred at Constantinople for various purposes.
They said they would give me letters to the Emperor to thank him for
the recovery of their freedom, which they would have preferred to do
in person, if they had not been hindered by the considerations I have
mentioned. I complied with their wishes without hesitation, and the
death of Requesens, which happened soon after, gave me less cause to
regret having done so, for before he reached Ragusa he died, being a
very old man. I am glad I granted him the favour, as a refusal might
have been thought to have been partly the cause of his illness.
De Sandé and I accomplished the rest of the journey very merrily,
without meeting with any serious inconvenience. De Sandé was a
pleasant fellow, and always making jokes, being quite capable, when it
was necessary, of concealing his anxiety and assuming a cheerfulness he
did not feel. The daily occurrences of our journey furnished us with
many a merry jest. Sometimes we had a fancy to leave our carriages,
and try which of us could walk the longest. In this, as I was thin
and had no load of corpulence to carry, I easily beat my friend, who
was stout and too fat for walking, not to mention that the effects of
his confinement still made him incapable of much exertion. Whenever
our road lay through a village, it was amusing to see Ibrahim, who
followed us very gravely on horseback with his Turks, riding up and
entreating us by all we held most dear to get into our carriages again,
and not to disgrace ourselves utterly by allowing the villagers to see
us travelling on foot, for among the Turks this is considered a great
dishonour. With these words he sometimes prevailed on us to re-enter
our carriages, and sometimes we laughed at him and disobeyed.
Now listen to one of de Sandé’s many witty sayings. When we left
Constantinople, not only was the heat still overpowering, but I was in
a languid state from the late hot weather, so that I had hardly any
appetite for food, or at any rate, was satisfied with very little.
But de Sandé, being a strong man and accustomed to a great deal of
food, of which he always partook with me, used to devour rather than
eat his meals, exhorting me from time to time to follow his example,
and eat like a man. In this however he was unsuccessful, until, about
the beginning of October, we were approaching the borders of Austria.
There, partly from the nature of the country, and partly from the
time of year, I was refreshed by the cooler climate, and began to be
better in health and also to eat more freely than before. When this
was observed by de Sandé, he exclaimed, ‘He was amply rewarded for
his trouble, the pains and training he had spent on me had not been
thrown away, inasmuch as, thanks to his teaching and instruction, I had
learnt at last how to eat, though I had lived so many years without
acquiring any knowledge of, or practice in, this most needful art. Let
me consider him as much in my debt as I pleased for delivering him from
a Turkish prison; I was no less indebted to him, as it was from him I
had learnt how to eat!’
Amusing ourselves in this manner we arrived at Tolna, where we came
in for a certain amount of annoyance. De Sandé used to stay under
the same roof with me, where my quarters consisted of several rooms;
but where there was only one he used to lodge at an adjoining house,
that he might not inconvenience me. Accordingly at Tolna he ordered
the Janissary, whom I took with me from Constantinople to Buda as my
attendant, to look out for quarters for him. One of my servants and a
Spanish doctor of medicine, who had been ransomed at de Sandé’s expense
at Constantinople, accompanied the Janissary. They happened to go into
a house near us, which belonged to a Janissary who had been entrusted
with the charge of the town. For it is the custom of the Turks, in
order to protect the Christians from the outrages of travellers, to
appoint in each of the wealthier villages or small towns one or two
Janissaries,[265] who take advantage of the position in which they
are thus placed, and turn it to their own profit in many ways. This
Janissary had committed some fault for which he had deserved to lose
his office; and the fear of such a punishment hanging over his head had
made him crusty, and completely soured his temper. Our people inspected
his house without opposition, went all over it, and began to retreat,
as they did not like it. My Janissary was going first, the servant
was following, and the doctor was last. Meanwhile, the Janissary who
lived there, and who was then in his garden, was told that Christians
were looking for a lodging in his house. Mad with rage he hurried up
with a stick that might have served Hercules for a club, and without
a word brought it down with all his might on the doctor’s shoulders,
who flew out of the house for fear of a repetition of the blow. My
servant looked back, and saw behind him the Janissary on the point of
giving him a similar greeting, his stick being already raised for the
blow; but this servant of mine, who was carrying a small hatchet in his
hand, as people generally do in that country, seized the blade of it
with one hand, and the end of the handle with the other, and holding
it cross-wise over his head parried several blows without injury. As
the other, however, did not stop striking, the handle of the hatchet
began to give way, so my servant was obliged to alter his tactics, and
closing with the Janissary aimed a blow at his head, but the latter did
not like this change in the mode of fighting, and forthwith took to his
heels. As my servant could not reach him, he flung the hatchet at his
back as he ran away. The Janissary was wounded by the blow and fell;
and so our people escaped.