would have made war with far different results, if he had had the
Romans for enemies, instead of the Persians or the unwarlike Indians.
It is one thing to make war with warlike nations, and another to fight
with peoples ruined by luxury or unaccustomed to arms. Among the
Persians mere numbers were much thought of, but in dealing with those
same Persians it proved to be more trouble to slaughter than to conquer
them. I consider Hannibal’s three victories, at the Trebia, Lake
Thrasimene, and Cannæ, are to be placed far above all the exploits of
Alexander. Why so? the former won his successes over famous warriors,
the latter had the effeminate nations of Asia to contend with.
Fabius Maximus had no less courage than T. Sempronius, C. Flaminius,
or Varro, but more sagacity. That prudent general knew that he must
not rashly hazard everything against an enemy brought up in the camp,
whose whole life had been passed in arms, who had been trained in the
school of great commanders, who was distinguished by so many trophies,
and attended by some extraordinary destiny or good fortune; delay and
opportunity were absolutely necessary to make his defeat a possibility.
When he had to contend with such an enemy, the only hope he had left
was to avoid a battle, until there was a chance of fighting with
success. Meanwhile he had to stand up against the foe, keep him in
check, and harass him. In this Fabius was so successful, that perhaps
he is entitled to quite as much credit for defeating Hannibal as Scipio
himself, although the latter won the final victory. For who can tell
whether Scipio would have had an opportunity of conquering at Zama,
if Fabius had not checked Hannibal’s victorious career? Nor should a
victory won by strategy be thought less of than one gained by force.
The former has nothing in common with animals, the latter has.
The Emperor Ferdinand’s plan was the same as that of Fabius Maximus,
and accordingly, after weighing his own strength and that of
Solyman, he came to the conclusion that it would be the height of
bad generalship to tempt fortune, and encounter in a pitched battle
the attack of so mighty an enemy. There was another course open to
him, namely, to endeavour to check his inroad by the same means as we
should use to stay the overflow of a swollen stream, and accordingly he
directed all his energies to the construction of walls, ditches, and
other fortifications.
It is forty years, more or less, since Solyman at the beginning of his
reign, after taking Belgrade, crushing Hungary, and slaying King Louis,
made sure of obtaining not only that province but also those beyond; in
this hope he besieged Vienna, and renewing the war reduced Güns, and
threatened Vienna again, but that time from a distance. Yet what has he
accomplished with his mighty array of arms, his boundless resources and
innumerable soldiery? Why, he has not made one single step in Hungary
in advance of his original conquest. He, who used to make an end of
powerful kingdoms in a single campaign, has won, as the reward of his
invasions, ill-fortified castles or inconsiderable villages, and has
paid a heavy price for whatever fragments he has gradually torn off
from the vast bulk of Hungary. Vienna he has certainly seen once, but
as it was for the first, so it was for the last time.[272]
Three things Solyman is said to have set his heart on, namely, to
see the building of his mosque finished (which is indeed a costly
and beautiful work),[273] by restoring the ancient aqueducts to give
Constantinople an abundant supply of water, and to take Vienna. In two
of these things his wishes have been accomplished, in the third he has
been stopped, and I hope will be stopped. Vienna he is wont to call by
no other name than his disgrace and shame.
But I return to the point from which I made this digression, namely,
that I do not hesitate to claim for Ferdinand a foremost place among
generals, inasmuch as, with resources wholly inadequate to the
occasion, he has never quailed, but for many a long year has, with
marvellous fortitude, sustained the attacks of a foe of no ordinary
kind. He has preserved a large portion of Hungary for better days;
a greater feat in my eyes than many a triumph won under favourable
circumstances over conquered kings and vanquished nations. The greater
his need at the critical hour, the brighter his courage shone. Of
course I cannot expect those to appreciate his conduct who think that
everything ought to be risked in a single action, without the slightest
regard to the time, the circumstances, or the strength of the foe. But
to anyone else it must seem well nigh miraculous, that a realm so open
and exposed as that of Hungary, and one so torn by civil war, should
be capable of being defended so long, and should not have altogether
passed under the yoke of its powerful assailant. That so much has been
done is wholly owing to God’s special mercy, and under Him to the
ceaseless toil and anxious care of this most prudent monarch.
In this task what difficulties had he not to encounter, each more
grievous than the preceding! The enemy was in sight, his friends were
far off; the succours his brother Charles sent came from a distance
and arrived too late; Germany, although nearest to the conflagration,
was weary of supplying aid; the hereditary states were exhausted by
their contributions; the ears of many Christian princes were deaf to
his voice when he demanded assistance; though the matter was one of
vital importance to them, it was about the last they were likely to
attend to. And so at one time, by his own valour, with the forces he
could gather from Hungary, Austria, and Bohemia, at another, by the
resources of the Empire, at another, by hiring Spanish or Italian
troops, he held his ground, though at vast cost. By a line of garrisons
he has protected the frontiers of Hungary, which extend for fifteen
days’ journey, for he is obliged always to keep some troops embodied,
even during a time of truce. For at times there are truces; and he
condescends, when there is fear of the Sultan’s attack, and he has
no other means of stopping him, to send ambassadors and presents to
appease his wrath, as the best chance of saving the necks of the
unfortunate Hungarians from the coming storm.
It is ridiculous to suppose that a man thus engaged can enjoy a good
night’s rest. For the benefit of the state he must forego sleep.
Affairs so weighty demand continual watchfulness, and great anxiety.
You may think it is a panegyric I am composing, but I am writing my
letter with strict historical accuracy.
To manage these affairs he has ministers, few indeed, but good. The
leading men among them, whom perhaps you have heard of, are John von
Trautson and Rodolph von Harrach,[274] both of whom are persons of
singular loyalty and prudence.
I will conclude with a few details of his private life. He rises at
five, even in the severest winter months, and after prayers and hearing
mass retires to the council chamber, where he devotes himself to public
business until it is time for dinner. He is occupied the same way in
the afternoon till supper. When I say supper, I mean, not his own,
but that of his councillors, for he never touches supper himself, and
does not take food more than once a day and then sparingly; nor does
he indulge more freely in drinking, being content to finish his dinner
with two draughts of wine. Since he lost his wife, no other woman has
been allowed to take her place. He does not care for jests and the
amusements by which many are attracted. Fools, jugglers, buffoons,
parasites, the darlings, but also the curses, of ordinary courts, are
banished from his palace. He avoids leisure, and is never idle. If,
which is an unusual event, he has any time to spare from business, he
devotes it, as I previously mentioned, to conversations with men of
worth and learning, which he greatly enjoys. In particular, they stand
by him at dinner, and talk with him on various topics.
You may be sure that not many of his subjects would wish to change
their mode of life for his, which is so frugal and severe. For how
rarely can you find a man who does not devote some fraction of his
life to pleasure? Who would cheerfully endure the loss of all his
amusements? Who would not be disgusted at spending his last years in
the midst of unceasing business and anxieties—a condition which more
resembles slavery than sovereignty? But the Emperor is of a different
opinion, and when talking with his friends is wont to say, that ‘it is
not for his own sake that he has been appointed by God to so important
an office; the helm of empire has not been entrusted to him that he
may wallow in pleasures and amusements; the terms on which private
fortunes are inherited are far different from those which regulate the
succession to kingdoms and empires. No one is forbidden to use and
enjoy the advantages of his patrimony, but all these numerous nations
have been committed by God to his charge, that he may take care of them
and bear the toil, while they enjoy the fruits of his labours; that he
may endure the burden and heat of the day, while rest and peace are
secured for them.’
Hunting is the only amusement of which he ever partakes, and that not
so much for the sake of pleasure as of health. For, when he feels his
mind and body require bracing after a long spell of sedentary work, he
chooses a day to refresh himself by out-of-door exercise and plenty of
fresh air. On such occasions, very early in the morning, in summer at
daybreak, in winter some hours before sunrise, he goes out to hunt,
whatever the weather may be. Sometimes, however, only the afternoon
is devoted to this occupation. I remember once hearing him say, when
I was standing by him at dinner, ‘I have done all my work, I have
finished all my business, I have come to the bottom of my despatch-box,
there is nothing left in the chancery to keep me; the rest of the day I
will spend in bodily exercise.’ And so he returns home, when the night
is already advanced, delighted at having killed a boar, or a stag, or,
sometimes, even a bear, and without taking any food or drink, composes
himself to sleep, all wearied by his various exertions.
It is absurd, therefore, for anyone to look back with regret on Trajan,
Verus, and Theodosius, and to wish that such wonderful Emperors were
living in our times. I seriously and solemnly declare, that I believe
there is more real merit in my master than in the three of them put
together.
But my admiration for so great a man is carrying me away too far.
It is not my design to speak of his merits as they deserve; that
would require a volume, not a letter, and would call for talents and
faculties that are far beyond me, but, as I have narrated my other
adventures to you, I wished that you should not remain in ignorance of
the character of the Emperor I serve. I shall conclude with that which
is the universal prayer with regard to the saint and champion of our
age—‘Serus in cœlum redeat.’
As to your inquiries about Greek books and your writing that you hear
I have brought back many curiosities and some rare animals, there is
nothing among them that is much worth mentioning. I have brought back
a very tame ichneumon, an animal celebrated for its hatred to the
crocodile and asp, and the internecine war it wages with them. I had
also a remarkably handsome weasel, of the kind called sables, but I
lost him on the journey. I also brought with me several beautiful
thoroughbred horses, which no one before me has done, and six
she-camels. I brought back some drawings of plants and shrubs, which I
am keeping for Mattioli,[275] but as to plants and shrubs themselves
I have few or none. For I sent him many years ago the sweet flag
(Acorus calamus[276]) and many other specimens. Carpets too, and linen
embroidered in Babylonian fashion, swords, bows, and horse-trappings,
and many nicknacks elegantly made of leather, which is generally horse
leather, and other trifling specimens of Turkish workmanship I have,
or rather, to speak more correctly, I ought to say, I had. For, as
in this great assemblage of Sovereigns, both male and female, here at
Frankfort, I give, of my own accord, many presents to many people as
compliments, and am ashamed to refuse many others who ask me, what I
have left for myself is but little. But, while I think my other gifts
have been well bestowed, there is one of which I regret having been so
lavish, namely, the balsam,[277] because physicians have thrown doubts
on its genuineness, declaring that it has not got all the properties
which according to Pliny mark the true balsam, whether because the
strength of the very old plants, from which it flows, has been in some
degree impaired by age, or for some other reason. This much, at any
rate, I know for certain, that it flowed from the shrubs which are
cultivated in the gardens of Matarieh, near Cairo.[278]
Before I left Constantinople I sent a Spanish physician, named Albacar,
to Lemnos, that he might be there on August 6, at the digging out
of that famous earth,[279] and so might write us a full and certain
account of its position and source, and the mode of extracting it and
preparing it for use; which I do not doubt he would have done, had he
not been prevented by circumstances over which he had no control. For a
long time I wanted to cross over there, that I might be an eye-witness
myself. As the Turks did not allow me to do so, I took pains to make
myself, at least, an ear-witness, if I may say so.
I am also bringing back a great medley of ancient coins, of which I
shall present the most remarkable to my master.
I have besides, whole waggonfuls, whole shiploads, of Greek
manuscripts. There are, I believe, not much fewer than 240 books, which
I sent by sea to Venice, to be conveyed from there to Vienna, for their
destination is the Imperial Library. There are some which are not to
be despised and many common ones. I ransacked every corner to collect,
in a sort of final gleaning, all that remained of such wares. The only
one I left at Constantinople was a copy of Dioscorides,[280] evidently
a very ancient manuscript, written throughout in uncial characters and
containing drawings of the plants, in which, if I am not mistaken,
there are also some fragments of Cratevas and a treatise on birds. It
belongs to a Jew, the son of Hamon, who was Solyman’s physician, and I
wanted to buy it, but was deterred by the price. For he demanded 100
ducats, a sum suiting the Imperial purse, but not mine. I shall not
leave off pressing the Emperor till I induce him to ransom so famous an
author from such foul slavery. The manuscript is in very bad condition
from the injuries of age, being so worm-eaten on the outside that
hardly anyone, if he found it on the road, would take the trouble of
picking it up.
But my letter is too long already; expect to see me in person very
shortly; if anything remains to be told, it shall be kept for our
meeting. But mind you invite men of worth and learning to meet me, so
that pleasant company and profitable conversation may serve to rub off
the remains of the rust I have contracted during my long sojourn among
the Turks. Farewell.
Frankfort, December 16, 1562.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] See Prescott, _Philip II._, book iv. chap. i.
[2] The Society of Sciences, Agriculture, and Arts at Lille has for
several years been offering a prize for an essay on Busbecq’s life.
[3] See Appendix, _List of Editions_.
[4] _Mêlanges à Histoire et de Littérature_, vol. i. p. 48, edition of
1702. The author is Noel d’Argonne, who wrote under the assumed name of
de Vigneul-Marville.
[5] The sweet or aromatic flag.
[6] See Fourth Turkish letter _ad finem_.
[7] Monsieur Rouzière being a complete stranger to the neighbourhood,
Monsieur Jean Dalle, the present Maire of Bousbecque, acted as his
cicerone. Before going away, Monsieur Rouzière selected an old house
in Comines to which he attached his legend; this house is now shown as
the birthplace of the Ambassador, on the authority of a man who could
have had no acquaintance with the traditions of the place. On the other
hand, Monsieur Dalle’s family have resided in the neighbourhood from
time immemorial, and Monsieur Dalle himself has for the last twenty
years taken the keenest interest in the subject. He tells us that
there is not the slightest evidence connecting the house with Busbecq,
and that no one ever heard of the story till after the publication of
Monsieur Rouzière’s brochure in 1860.
[8] That the name of Busbecq’s father was George—and not, as usually
supposed, Gilles (Ægidius)—is established by the deed of legitimation,
a copy of which is given in the Appendix.
[9] See letter to Boisschot, appended to the Elzevir edition of
Busbecq’s letters from France.
[10] See Appendix, _Patent of knighthood_.
[11] Ogier is the name of an old Norse hero, who figures prominently
in the Carlovingian epic cycle. Jean Molinet says of some Burgundian
archers, who displayed great courage at a critical moment, ‘Et n’y
avoit celui d’entre eux qui ne montrast mine d’estre ung petit Ogier.’
(Molinet, chap. xxx.) It was Latinised into Augerius, hence some write
Auger.
[12] Bousbecque takes its name from a tributary of the Lys, which is
still called Becque des bois.
[13] For this and other documents quoted in this section see Monsieur
Dalle’s _Histoire de Bousbecque_.
[14] Some few traces, showing the high position of the early Seigneurs,
are still to be found in Bousbecque; among these is the beautiful
cross, of which we have been enabled by the kindness of Monsieur Dalle
to give a representation in the frontispiece of the Second Volume.
Monsieur Dalle considers it to be ‘la croix d’autel mobile qui était
sans pied et sans hampe, qui l’on portait de la sacristie à l’autel
au moment du saint sacrifice, et qui se plaçait sur un pied préparé
d’avance.’—_Histoire de Bousbecque_, chap. xxxviii.
[15] For the pedigree of the Ghiselins see Monsieur Dalle’s _Histoire
de Bousbecque_, chap. iv. In consequence of there being several
seigneurs of the same name it will be necessary to speak of them as
Gilles Ghiselin I., &c.
[16] Marie, daughter of Gilles Ghiselin I., became Abbess of Messines.
The following is an extract from L. Guicciardini’s _Description de tout
le Païs Bas_, Antwerp, 1567. ‘Messine ha une tres-bonne et tres-ample
Abbaye de femmes, de laquelle l’Abbesse est Dame du lieu, et de sa
jurisdiction, tant au temporel qu’au spirituel.’
[17] Jeanne de la Clite was married to Jean Halluin (Halewin),
Seigneur of Halluin, the relation and near neighbour of the Busbecqs
of Bousbecque. The families had been connected from a very early date
by the marriage of Roger Halluin to Agnes de Bousbecque; it will be
noticed that the grandmother of George and Gilles Ghiselin was also
a Halluin; moreover in consequence of this alliance the Busbecqs
quartered the Halluin arms. We should have been afraid, however, to
state positively that a relationship existed between them and Jean
Halluin, husband of Jeanne de la Clite, had not Monsieur Leuridan, who
is the chief authority on genealogies in the North of France, most
kindly investigated the question for us. The result of his researches
has placed the matter beyond doubt; Jean Halluin and George and Gilles
Ghiselin had a common ancestor in Jacques Halluin, Seigneur of Halluin
in the fourteenth century. As far as mere cousinship is concerned they
were but distant relations, still it is easy to understand that two
seigneurs, in the fifteenth century, living within two miles of each
other, would value and appreciate any blood relationship however slight.
[18] For this battle see Philippe de Comines, book vi. chap. 5, and
Molinet, chap. lxvi. Jean Molinet was chronicler to the Court of
Burgundy from 1474 to 1506. He is a most painstaking writer, and of
great value on account of the graphic details to be found in his
narratives. Unfortunately for his reputation as an annalist, he here
and there inserts chapters of pedantic nonsense, in which frequent
references are made to the saints of the calendar and the heroes of
mythology. But it is only fair to observe that the quantity of wheat to
be found is greatly in excess of the chaff, and that he keeps his wheat
and chaff separate and distinct. In his historical chapters he never
indulges in these vagaries. Possibly the court fashion required him to
write such pieces, for Molinet was by no means blind to the faults and
errors of his patrons, and could also see the humorous side of their
misfortunes. The following description of Maximilian’s imprisonment
in Bruges, is to be found in _Recollection des merveilles advenues en
nostre temps_, written by Molinet.
‘Les moutons détentèrent
En son parc le berger,
Les chiens qui le gardèrent
Sont constraint d’eslonger.
Le berger prist figure
D’aigneau, mais ses brebis,
Dont il avait la cure,
Devindrent loups rabis.’
[19] See Molinet, chap. clxii.
[20] See Molinet, chap. clxiii.
[21] See Molinet, chap. clxiv.
[22] See De Barante, _Histoire des Ducs de Bourgogne_, vii. 428.
[23] The Flemings having objected to the introduction of German troops
into their country this order was most impolitic.
[24] ‘Le bourreau, qui volontiers entendit ces mots pour son gaing,
et afin que la chose ne demourast à faire pour faulte de lui, monta
soudainement sur le hourd où se firent les executions, et en attendant
sa proie, estoit sorti d’espées et de bandeaux.’—Molinet, chap. clxvii.
[25] Those called up were Jehan van Ninove Wautergrave, Victor hoste
de la Thoison, Peter d’Arincq et deux autres. Molinet, chap. clxix.
A comparison of this list with the names of those brought out for
execution will show that the two others (deux autres) were George
Ghiselin and Bontemps.
[26] Many expressions used by Philippe de Comines, which are supposed
to be obsolete, are simply the idioms of Comines and its neighbourhood,
where the historian spent the early part of his life, and may still be
heard at Bousbecque, Wervicq, Halluin, and other villages on the banks
of the Lys.
[27] ‘Nul prince ne le passa jamais de désirer nourrir grans gens et
les tenir bien reglez.’—Philippe de Comines, book v. chap. 9.
[28] See Molinet, chap. i.
[29] The reader will remember Scott’s description of the battle of
Nancy in _Anne of Geierstein_; the Burgundians were surprised in the
night and cut to pieces by the Swiss.
[30] Another memorial of Gilles Ghiselin II. is to be found in
the inscription on the beautiful Bousbecque Chasse, considered by
antiquarians to be the work of the twelfth or thirteenth century. ‘En
ceste fiertre a de le sainte vraie crois et biaucop d’autres dimtes,
laquelle a faict réparer noble homme Gilles Gisselins: proés pour lui.’
[31] For an account of Jeanne de la Clite see page 27.
[32] For an account of the office of _écuyer trenchant_ see page 59.
[33] Leonora (as she is called by Busbecq), otherwise Eleanor, was
married, 1519, to Emanuel, King of Portugal, and was left a widow with
only one daughter in 1521. She married Francis I., King of France, in
1530, lost her second husband, 1547, and died February 1558.
[34] Elizabeth, or Isabella, married Christian II. of Denmark in 1515,
and died 1526.
[35] An interesting document is given by Dupont (_Mémoires de Philippe
de Comines_, iii. 180), which connects George Halluin with Philippe
de Comines. The latter had been the ward of George Halluin’s great
grandfather, but the accounts as regards the administration of his
property had never been closed. This no doubt was owing to Philippe de
Comine’s desertion, and the disturbed state of Flanders, but on July
7, 1519, George Halluin paid over the balance due, after deducting the
expenses of his education, and received an acquittance for the same.