withdrew, and, summoning the friar, left the prisoner to the spiritual
consolations he so much needed. What followed, we have from Castillo
himself. As Montigny's agitation subsided, he listened patiently to the
exhortations of the good father; and when at length restored to
something like his natural composure, he joined with him earnestly in
prayer. He then confessed and received the sacrament, seeming desirous
of employing the brief space that yet remained to him in preparation for
the solemn change. At intervals, when not actually occupied with his
devotions, he read the compositions of Father Luis de Granada, whose
spiritualized conceptions had often solaced the hours of his captivity.
Montigny was greatly disturbed by the rumor of his having been shaken in
his religious principles, and having embraced the errors of the
Reformers. To correct this impression, he briefly drew up, with his own
hand, a confession of faith, in which he avows as implicit a belief in
all the articles sanctioned by the Roman Catholic Church, and its head,
the Vicar of Christ, as Pius the Fifth himself could have desired.[1254]
Having thus relieved his mind, Montigny turned to settle some temporal
affairs which he was desirous to settle. They did not occupy much time.
For, as Philip had truly remarked, there was no occasion for him to make
a will, since he had nothing to bequeath,--all his property having been
confiscated to the crown.[1255] If, however, any debt pressed heavily on
his conscience, he was to be allowed to indicate it, as well as any
provision which he particularly desired to make for a special purpose.
This was on the condition, however, that he should allude to himself as
about to die a natural death.[1256]
Montigny profited by this to express the wish that masses, to the number
of seven hundred, might be said for his soul, that sundry sums might be
appropriated to private uses, and that some gratuities might be given to
certain of his faithful followers. It may interest the reader to know
that the masses were punctually performed. In regard to the pious
legacies, the king wrote to Alva, he must first see if Montigny's estate
would justify the appropriation; as for the gratuities to servants,
they were wholly out of the question.[1257]
One token of remembrance, which he placed in the hands of Castillo,
doubtless reached its destination. This was a gold chain of delicate
workmanship, with a seal or signet ring attached to it, bearing his
arms. This little token he requested might be given to his wife. It had
been his constant companion ever since they were married; and he wished
her to wear it in memory of him,--expressing at the same time his regret
that a longer life had not been granted him, to serve and honor her. As
a dying injunction he besought her not to be entangled by the new
doctrines, or to swerve from the faith of her ancestors.--If ever
Montigny had a leaning to the doctrines of the Reformation, it could
hardly have deepened into conviction; for early habit and education
reasserted their power so entirely, at this solemn moment, that the
Dominican by his side declared that he gave evidence of being as good
and Catholic a Christian as he could wish to be himself.[1258] The few
hours in which Montigny had thus tasted of the bitterness of death
seemed to have done more to wean him from the vanities of life than the
whole years of dreary imprisonment he had passed within the walls of
Segovia and Simancas. Yet we shall hardly credit the friar's assertion,
that he carried his resignation so far, that, though insisting on his
own innocence, he admitted the sentence of his judges to be just![1259]
At about two o'clock on the morning of the sixteenth of October, when
the interval allowed for this solemn preparation had expired, Father
Castillo waited on the governor and the alcalde, to inform them that the
hour had come, and that their prisoner was ready to receive them. They
went, without further delay, to the chamber of death, attended by the
notary and the executioner. Then, in their presence, while the notary
made a record of the proceedings, the grim minister of the law did his
work on his unresisting victim.[1260]
No sooner was the breath out of the body of Montigny, than the alcalde,
the priest, and their two companions were on their way back to
Valladolid, reaching it before dawn, so as to escape the notice of the
inhabitants. All were solemnly bound to secrecy in regard to the dark
act in which they had been engaged. The notary and the hangman were
still further secured by the menace of death, in case they betrayed any
knowledge of the matter; and they knew full well that Philip was not a
man to shrink from the execution of his menaces.[1261]
[Sidenote: HIS LAST MOMENTS.]
The corpse was arrayed in a Franciscan habit, which, coming up to the
throat, left the face only exposed to observation. It was thus seen by
Montigny's servants, who recognised the features of their master, hardly
more distorted than sometimes happens from disease, when the agonies of
death have left their traces. The story went abroad that their lord had
died of the fever with which he had been so violently attacked.
The funeral obsequies were performed, according to the royal orders,
with all due solemnity. The vicar and beneficiaries of the church of St.
Saviour officiated on the occasion. The servants of the deceased were
clad in mourning,--a token of respect recommended by Philip, who
remarked, the servants were so few, that mourning might as well be given
to them;[1262] and he was willing to take charge of this and the other
expenses of the funeral, provided Montigny had not left money sufficient
for the purpose. The place selected for his burial was a vault under one
of the chapels of the building; and a decent monument indicated the spot
where reposed the ashes of the last of the envoys who came from Flanders
on the ill-starred mission to Madrid.[1263]
Such is a true account of this tragical affair, as derived from the
king's own letters and those of his agents. Far different was the story
put in circulation at the time. On the seventeenth of October, the day
after Montigny's death, despatches were received at court from Peralta,
the alcayde of the fortress. They stated that, after writing his former
letter, his prisoner's fever had so much increased, that he had called
in the aid of a physician; and as the symptoms became more alarming, the
latter had entered into a consultation with the medical adviser of the
late regent, Joanna, so that nothing that human skill could afford
should be wanting to the patient. He grew rapidly worse, however, and
as, happily, Father Hernando del Castillo, of Valladolid, chanced to be
then in Simancas, he came and administered the last consolations of
religion to the dying man. Having done all that a good Christian at such
a time should do, Montigny expired early on the morning of the
sixteenth, manifesting at the last so Catholic a spirit, that good hopes
might be entertained of his salvation.[1264]
This hypocritical epistle, it is hardly necessary to say, like the one
that preceded it, had been manufactured at Madrid. Nor was it altogether
devoid of truth. The physician of the place, named Viana, had been
called in; and it was found necessary to intrust him with the secret.
Every day he paid his visit to the castle, and every day returned with
more alarming accounts of the condition of the patient; and thus the
minds of the community were prepared for the fatal termination of his
disorder. Not that, after all, this was unattended with suspicions of
foul play in the matter, as people reflected how opportune was the
occurrence of such an event. But suspicions were not proof. The secret
was too well guarded for any one to penetrate the veil of mystery; and
the few who were behind that veil loved their lives too well to raise
it.
Despatches written in cipher, and containing a full and true account of
the affair, were sent to the duke of Alva. The two letters of Peralta,
which indeed were intended for the meridian of Brussels rather than of
Madrid, were forwarded with them. The duke was told to show them
incidentally, as it were, without obtruding them on any one's
notice,[1265] that Montigny's friends in the Netherlands might be
satisfied of their truth.
In his own private communication to Alva, Philip, in mentioning the
orthodox spirit manifested by his victim in his last moments, shows that
with the satisfaction which he usually expressed on such occasions was
mingled some degree of scepticism. "If his inner man," he writes of
Montigny, "was penetrated with as Christian a spirit as he exhibited in
the outer, and as the friar who confessed him has reported, God, we may
presume, will have mercy on his soul."[1266] In the original draft of
the letter, as prepared by the king's secretary, it is further added:
"Yet, after all, who can tell but this was a delusion of Satan, who, as
we know, never deserts the heretic in his dying hour." This sentence--as
appears from the manuscript still preserved in Simancas--was struck out
by Philip, with the remark in his own hand, "Omit this, as we should
think no evil of the dead!"[1267]
Notwithstanding this magnanimous sentiment, Philip lost no time in
publishing Montigny to the world as a traitor, and demanding the
confiscation of his estates. The Council of Blood learned a good lesson
from the Holy Inquisition, which took care that even Death should not
defraud it of its victims. Proceedings were instituted against the
_memory_ of Montigny, as had before been done against the memory of the
marquis of Bergen.[1268] On the twenty-second of March, 1571, the duke
of Alva pronounced sentence, condemning the memory of Florence de
Montmorency, lord of Montigny, as guilty of high treason, and
confiscating his goods and estates to the use of the crown; "it having
come to his knowledge," the instrument went on to say, "that the said
Montigny had deceased by natural death in the fortress of Simancas,
where he had of late been held a prisoner!"[1269]
The proceedings of the Council of Blood against Montigny were
characterized, as I have already said, by greater effrontery and a more
flagrant contempt of the common forms of justice than were usually to be
met with even in that tribunal. A bare statement of the facts is
sufficient. The party accused was put on his trial--if trial it can be
called--in one country, while he was held in close custody in another.
The court before which he was tried--or rather the jury, for the council
seems to have exercised more of the powers of a jury than of a
judge--was on this occasion a packed body, selected to suit the purposes
of the prosecution. Its sentence, instead of being publicly pronounced,
was confided only to the party interested to obtain it,--the king. Even
the sentence itself was not the one carried into effect; but another was
substituted in its place, and a public execution was supplanted by a
midnight assassination. It would be an abuse of language to dignify such
a proceeding with the title of a judicial murder.
[Sidenote: NOTICE OF GACHARD.]
Yet Philip showed no misgivings as to his own course in the matter. He
had made up his mind as to the guilt of Montigny. He had been false to
his king and false to his religion; offences which death only could
expiate. Still we find Philip resorting to a secret execution, although
Alva, as we have seen, had supposed that sentence was to be executed on
Montigny in the same open manner as it had been on the other victims of
the bloody tribunal. But the king shrunk from exposing a deed to the
public eye, which, independently of its atrocity in other respects,
involved so flagrant a violation of good faith towards the party who had
come, at his sovereign's own desire, on a public mission to Madrid. With
this regard to the opinions of his own age, it may seem strange that
Philip should not have endeavored to efface every vestige of his
connection with the act, by destroying the records which established it.
On the contrary, he not only took care that such records should be made,
but caused them, and all other evidence of the affair, to be permanently
preserved in the national archives. There they lay for the inspection of
posterity, which was one day to sit in judgment on his conduct.
* * * * *
In the part of this History which relates to the Netherlands, I have
been greatly indebted to two eminent scholars of that country. The first
of these, M. Gachard, who had the care of the royal archives of Belgium,
was commissioned by his government, in 1844, to visit the Peninsula for
the purpose of collecting materials for the illustration of the national
history. The most important theatre of his labors was Simancas, which,
till the time of his visit, had been carefully closed to natives as well
as foreigners. M. Gachard profited by the more liberal arrangements
which, under certain restrictions, opened its historical treasures to
the student. The result of his labors he is now giving to the world by
the publication of his "Correspondance de Philippe II.," of which two
volumes have already been printed. The work is published in a beautiful
form, worthy of the auspices under which it has appeared. It consists
chiefly of the correspondence carried on by the Spanish government and
the authorities of the Netherlands in the reign of Philip the
Second,--the revolutionary age, and of course the most eventful period
of their history. The official despatches, written in French, are, it is
true, no longer to be found in Simancas, whence they were removed to
Brussels on the accession of Albert and Isabella to the sovereignty of
the Low Countries. But a large mass of correspondence which passed
between the court of Castile and the Netherlands, is still preserved in
the Spanish archives. As it is, for the most part, of a confidential
nature, containing strictures on men and things intended only for the
eyes of the parties to it, it is of infinite value to the historian. Not
only has it never before been published, but, with the exception of a
portion which passed under the review of the Italian Strada, it has
never been submitted to the inspection of the scholar. With the aid of
this rich collection, the historian is enabled to enter into many
details, hitherto unknown, of a personal nature, relating to the actors
in the great drama of the revolution, as well as to disclose some of the
secret springs of their policy.
M. Gachard has performed his editorial duties with conscientiousness and
ability. In a subsequent volume he proposes to give the entire text of
the more important letters; but in the two already published he has
confined himself to an analysis of their contents, more or less
extended, according to circumstances. He has added explanatory notes,
and prefixed to the whole a copious dissertation, presenting a view of
the politics of the Castilian court, and of the characters of the king
and the great officers of state. As the writer's information is derived
from sources the most authentic as well as the least accessible to
scholars, his preliminary essay deserves to be carefully studied by the
historian of the Netherlands.
M. Gachard has further claims to the gratitude of every lover of letters
by various contributions in other forms which he has made to the
illustration of the national history. Among these his "Correspondance de
Guillaume le Taciturne," of which three volumes in octavo have already
appeared, has been freely used by me. It consists of a collection of
William's correspondence, industriously gathered from various quarters.
The letters differ from one another as widely in value as might
naturally be expected in so large and miscellaneous a collection.
The other scholar by whose editorial labors I have profited in this part
of my work is M. Groen van Prinsterer. His voluminous publication,
"Archives de la Maison d'Orange-Nassau," the first series of which
embraces the times of William the Silent, is derived from the private
collection of the king of Holland. The contents are various, but consist
chiefly of letters from persons who took a prominent part in the conduct
of affairs. Their correspondence embraces a miscellaneous range of
topics, and with those of public interest combines others strictly
personal in their details, thus bringing into strong relief the
characters of the most eminent actors on the great political theatre. A
living interest attaches to this correspondence, which we shall look for
in vain in the colder pages of the historian. History gives us the acts,
but letters like these, in which the actors speak for themselves, give
us the thoughts, of the individual.
M. Groen has done his part of the work well, adhering to the original
text with scrupulous fidelity, and presenting us the letters in the
various languages in which they were written. The interstices, so to
speak, between the different parts of the correspondence, are skilfully
filled up by the editor, so as to connect the incongruous materials into
a well compacted fabric. In conducting what, as far as he is concerned,
may be termed the original part of his work, the editor has shown much
discretion, gathering information from collateral contemporary sources;
and, by the side-lights he has thus thrown over the path, has greatly
facilitated the progress of the student, and enabled him to take a
survey of the whole historical ground. The editor is at no pains to
conceal his own opinions; and we have no difficulty in determining the
religious sect to which he belongs. But it is not the less true, that he
is ready to render justice to the opinions of others, and that he is
entitled to the praise of having executed his task with impartiality.
One may notice a peculiarity in the criticisms of both Groen and
Gachard, the more remarkable considering the nations to which they
belong; that is, the solicitude they manifest to place the most
favorable construction on the conduct of Philip, and to vindicate his
memory from the wholesale charges so often brought against him, of a
systematic attempt to overturn the liberties of the Netherlands. The
reader, even should he not always feel the cogency of their arguments,
will not refuse his admiration to the candor of the critics.
There is a third publication, recently issued from the press in
Brussels, which contains, in the compass of a single volume, materials
of much importance for the history of the Netherlands. This is the
"Correspondance de Marguerite d'Autriche," by the late Baron
Reiffenberg. It is a part of the French correspondence which, as I have
mentioned above, was transferred, in the latter part of Philip the
Second's reign, from Simancas to Brussels; but which, instead of
remaining there, was removed, after the country had passed under the
Austrian sceptre, to the imperial library of Vienna, where it exists, in
all probability, at the present day. Some fragments of this
correspondence escaped the fate which attended the bulk of it; and it is
gleanings from these which Reiffenberg has given to the world.
That country is fortunate which can command the services of such men as
these for the illustration of its national annals,--men who with
singular enthusiasm for their task combine the higher qualifications of
scholarship, and a talent for critical analysis. By their persevering
labors the rich ore has been drawn from the mines where it had lain in
darkness for ages. It now waits only for the hand of the artist to
convert it into coin, and give it a popular currency.
[Sidenote: CONDITION OF TURKEY.]
BOOK IV.
CHAPTER I.
THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE.
Condition of Turkey.--African Corsairs.--Expedition against
Tripoli.--War on the Barbary Coast.
1559-1563.
There are two methods of writing history;--one by following down the
stream of time, and exhibiting events in their chronological order; the
other by disposing of these events according to their subjects. The
former is the most obvious; and where the action is simple and
continuous, as in biography, for the most part, or in the narrative of
some grand historical event, which concentrates the interest, it is
probably the best. But when the story is more complicated, covering a
wide field, and embracing great variety of incident, the chronological
system, however easy for the writer, becomes tedious and unprofitable to
the reader. He is hurried along from one scene to another without fully
apprehending any; and as the thread of the narrative is perpetually
broken by sudden transition, he carries off only such scraps in his
memory as it is hardly possible to weave into a connected and consistent
whole. Yet this method, as the most simple and natural, is one most
affected by the early writers,--by the old Castilian chroniclers more
particularly, who form the principal authorities in the present work.
Their wearisome pages, mindful of no order but that of time, are spread
over as miscellaneous a range of incidents, and having as little
relation to one another, as the columns of a newspaper.
To avoid this inconvenience, historians of a later period have preferred
to conduct their story on more philosophical principles, having regard
rather to the nature of the events described, than to the precise time
of their occurrence. And thus the reader, possessed of one action, its
causes and its consequences, before passing on to another, is enabled to
treasure up in his memory distinct impressions of the whole.
In conformity to this plan, I have detained the reader in the
Netherlands until he had seen the close of Margaret's administration,
and the policy which marked the commencement of her successor's. During
this period, Spain was at peace with her European neighbors, most of
whom were too much occupied with their domestic dissensions to have
leisure for foreign war. France, in particular, was convulsed by
religious feuds, in which Philip, as the champion of the Faith, took not
only the deepest interest, but an active part. To this I shall return
hereafter.
But while at peace with her Christian brethren, Spain was engaged in
perpetual hostilities with the Moslems, both of Africa and Asia. The
relations of Europe with the East were altogether different in the
sixteenth century from what they are in our day. The Turkish power lay
like a dark cloud on the Eastern horizon, to which every eye was turned
with apprehension; and the same people for whose protection European
nations are now willing to make common cause, were viewed by them, in
the sixteenth century, in the light of a common enemy.
It was fortunate for Islamism that, as the standard of the Prophet was
falling from the feeble grasp of the Arabs, it was caught up by a nation
like the Turks, whose fiery zeal urged them to bear it still onward in
the march of victory. The Turks were to the Arabs what the Romans were
to the Greeks. Bold, warlike, and ambitious, they had little of that
love of art which had been the dominant passion of their predecessors,
and still less of that refinement which, with the Arabs, had degenerated
into effeminacy and sloth. Their form of government was admirably suited
to their character. It was an unmixed despotism. The sovereign, if not
precisely invested with the theocratic character of the caliphs, was
hedged round with so much sanctity, that resistance to his authority was
an offence against religion as well as law. He was placed at an
immeasurable distance above his subjects. No hereditary aristocracy was
allowed to soften the descent, and interpose a protecting barrier for
the people. All power was derived from the sovereign, and, on the death
of its proprietor, returned to him. In the eye of the sultan, his
vassals were all equal, and all equally his slaves.
The theory of an absolute government would seem to imply perfection in
the head of it. But, as perfection is not the lot of humanity, it was
prudently provided by the Turkish constitution that the sultan should
have the benefit of a council to advise him. It consisted of three or
four great officers, appointed by himself, with the grand-vizier at
their head. This functionary was possessed of an authority far exceeding
that of the prime-minister of any European prince. All the business of
state may be said to have passed through his hands. The persons chosen
for this high office were usually men of capacity and experience; and in
a weak reign they served by their large authority to screen the
incapacity of the sovereign from the eyes of his subjects, while they
preserved the state from detriment. It might be thought that powers so
vast as those bestowed on the vizier might have rendered him formidable,
if not dangerous, to his master. But his master was placed as far above
him as above the meanest of his subjects. He had unlimited power of life
and death; and how little he was troubled with scruples in the exercise
of this power is abundantly shown in history. The bowstring was too
often the only warrant for the deposition of a minister.
But the most remarkable of the Turkish institutions, the one which may
be said to have formed the keystone of the system, was that relating to
the Christian population of the empire. Once in five years a general
conscription was made, by means of which all the children of Christian
parents who had reached the age of seven, and gave promise of excellence
in mind or body, were taken from their homes and brought to the capital.
They were then removed to different quarters, and placed in seminaries
where they might receive such instruction as would fit them for the
duties of life. Those giving greatest promise of strength and endurance
were sent to places prepared for them in Asia Minor. Here they were
subjected to a severe training, to abstinence, to privations of every
kind, and to the strict discipline which should fit them for the
profession of a soldier. From this body was formed the famous corps of
the janizaries.
Another portion were placed in schools in the capital, or the
neighboring cities, where, under the eye of the sultan, as it were, they
were taught various manly accomplishments, with such a smattering of
science as Turkish, or rather Arabian, scholarship could supply. When
their education was finished, some went into the sultan's body-guard,
where a splendid provision was made for their maintenance. Others,
intended for civil life, entered on a career which might lead to the
highest offices in the state.
[Sidenote: CONDITION OF TURKEY.]
As all these classes of Christian youths were taken from their parents
at that tender age when the doctrines of their own faith could hardly
have taken root in their minds, they were, without difficulty, won over
to the faith of the Koran; which was further commended to their choice
as the religion of the state, the only one which opened to them the path
of preferment. Thus set apart from the rest of the community, and
cherished by royal favor, the new converts, as they rallied round the
throne of their sovereign, became more stanch in their devotion to his
interests, as well as to the interests of the religion they had adopted,
than even the Turks themselves.
This singular institution bore hard on the Christian population, who
paid this heavy tax of their own offspring. But it worked well for the
monarchy, which, acquiring fresh vigor from the constant infusion of new
blood into its veins, was slow in exhibiting any signs of decrepitude or
decay.
The most important of these various classes was that of the janizaries,
whose discipline was far from terminating with the school. Indeed, their
whole life may be said to have been passed in war, or in preparation for
it. Forbidden to marry, they had no families to engage their affections,
which, as with the monks and friars in Christian countries, were
concentrated on their own order, whose prosperity was inseparably
connected with that of the state. Proud of the privileges which
distinguished them from the rest of the army, they seemed desirous to
prove their title to them by their thorough discipline, and by their
promptness to execute the most dangerous and difficult services. Their
post was always the post of danger. It was their proud vaunt, that they
had never fled before an enemy. Clad in their flowing robes, so little
suited to the warrior, armed with the arquebuse and the scymitar,--in
their hands more than a match for the pike or sword of the
European,--with the heron's plume waving above their heads, their dense
array might ever be seen bearing down in the thickest of the fight; and
more than once, when the fate of the empire trembled in the balance, it
was this invincible corps that turned the scale, and by their intrepid
conduct decided the fortune of the day. Gathering fresh reputation with
age, so long as their discipline remained unimpaired, they were a match
for the best soldiers of Europe. But in time this admirable organization
experienced a change. One sultan allowed them to marry; another, to
bring their sons into the corps; a third opened the ranks to Turks as
well as Christians; until, forfeiting their peculiar character, the
janizaries became confounded with the militia of the empire. These
changes occurred in the time of Philip the Second; but their
consequences were not fully unfolded till the following century.[1270]
It was fortunate for the Turks, considering the unlimited power lodged
in the hands of their rulers, that these should have so often been
possessed of the courage and capacity for using it for the advancement
of the nation. From Othman the First, the founder of the dynasty, to
Solyman the Magnificent, the contemporary of Philip, the Turkish throne
was filled by a succession of able princes, who, bred to war, were every
year enlarging the boundaries of the empire, and adding to its
resources. By the middle of the sixteenth century, besides their vast
possessions in Asia, they held the eastern portions of Africa. In
Europe, together with the countries at this day acknowledging their
sceptre, they were masters of Greece; and Solyman, overrunning
Transylvania and Hungary, had twice carried his victorious banners up
to the walls of Vienna. The battle-ground of the Cross and the Crescent
was transferred from the west to the east of Europe; and Germany in the
sixteenth century became what Spain and the Pyrenees had been in the
eighth, the bulwark of Christendom.
Nor was the power of Turkey on the sea less formidable than on the land.
Her fleet rode undisputed mistress of the Levant; for Venice, warned by
the memorable defeat at Prevesa, in 1538, and by the loss of Cyprus and
other territories, hardly ventured to renew the contest. That wily
republic found that it was safer to trust to diplomacy than to arms, in
her dealings with the Ottomans.
The Turkish navy, sweeping over the Mediterranean, combined with the
corsairs of the Barbary coast,--who, to some extent, owed allegiance to
the Porte,--and made frequent descents on the coasts of Italy and Spain,
committing worse ravages than those of the hurricane. From these ravages
France only was exempt; for her princes, with an unscrupulous policy
which caused general scandal in Christendom, by an alliance with the
Turks, protected her territories somewhat at the expense of her honor.
The northern coast of Africa, at this time, was occupied by various
races, who, however they may have differed in other respects, all united
in obedience to the Koran. Among them was a large infusion of Moors
descended from the Arab tribes who had once occupied the south of Spain,
and who, on its reconquest by the Christians, had fled that country
rather than renounce the religion of their fathers. Many even of the
Moors then living were among the victims of this religious persecution;
and they looked with longing eyes on the beautiful land of their
inheritance, and with feelings of unquenchable hatred on the Spaniards
who had deprived them of it.
The African shore was studded with towns,--some of them, like Algiers,
Tunis, Tripoli, having a large extent of territory adjacent,--which
owned the sway of some Moslem chief, who ruled them in sovereign state,
or, it might be, acknowledging, for the sake of protection, a qualified
allegiance to the sultan. These rude chiefs, profiting by their maritime
position, followed the dreadful trade of the corsair. Issuing from their
strongholds, they fell on the unprotected merchantmen, or, descending on
the opposite coasts of Andalusia and Valencia, sacked the villages, and
swept off the wretched inhabitants into slavery.
The Castilian government did what it could for the protection of its
subjects. Fortified posts were established along the shores.
Watch-towers were raised on the heights, to give notice of the approach
of an enemy. A fleet of galleys, kept constantly on duty, rode off the
coasts to intercept the corsairs. The war was occasionally carried into
the enemy's country. Expeditions were fitted out, to sweep the Barbary
shores, or to batter down the strongholds of the pirates. Other states,
whose territories bordered on the Mediterranean, joined in these
expeditions; among them Tuscany, Rome, Naples, Sicily,--the two last the
dependencies of Spain,--and above all Genoa, whose hardy seamen did good
service in these maritime wars. To these should be added the Knights of
St. John, whose little island of Malta, with its iron defences, boldly
bidding defiance to the enemy, was thrown into the very jaws, as it
were, of the African coast. Pledged by their vows to perpetual war with
the infidel, these brave knights, thus stationed on the outposts of
Christendom, were the first to sound the alarm of invasion, as they were
the foremost to repel it.
[Sidenote: AFRICAN CORSAIRS.]
The Mediterranean, in that day, presented a very different spectacle
from what it shows at present,--swarming, as it does, with the commerce
of many a distant land, and its shores glittering with towns and
villages, that echo to the sounds of peaceful and protected industry.
Long tracts of deserted territory might then be seen on its borders,
with the blackened ruins of many a hamlet, proclaiming too plainly the
recent presence of the corsair. The condition of the peasantry of the
south of Spain, in that day, was not unlike that of our New England
ancestors, whose rural labors might, at any time, be broken by the
warwhoop of the savage, as he burst on the peaceful settlement, sweeping
off its wretched inmates--those whom he did not massacre--to captivity
in the wilderness. The trader, instead of pushing out to sea, crept
timidly along the shore, under the protecting wings of its fortresses,
fearful lest the fierce enemy might dart on him unawares, and bear him
off to the dungeons of Africa. Or, if he ventured out into the open
deep, it was under a convoy of well-armed galleys, or, armed to the
teeth himself, prepared for war.
Scarcely a day passed without some conflict between Christian and Moslem
on the Mediterranean waters. Not unfrequently, instead of a Moor, the
command was intrusted to some Christian renegade, who, having renounced
his country and his religion for the roving life of a corsair, felt,
like most apostates, a keener hatred than even its natural enemies for
the land he had abjured.[1271] In these encounters, there were often
displayed, on both sides, such deeds of heroism as, had they been
performed on a wider theatre of action, would have covered the actors
with immortal glory. By this perpetual warfare a race of hardy and
experienced seamen was formed, in the countries bordering on the
Mediterranean; and more than one name rose to eminence for nautical
science as well as valor, with which it would not be easy to find a
parallel in other quarters of Christendom. Such were the Dorias of
Genoa,--a family to whom the ocean seemed their native element; and
whose brilliant achievements on its waters, through successive
generations, shed an undying lustre on the arms of the republic.
The corsair's life was full of maritime adventure. Many a tale of tragic
interest was told of his exploits, and many a sad recital of the
sufferings of the Christian captive, tugging at the oar, or pining in
the dungeons of Tripoli and Algiers. Such tales formed the burden of the
popular minstrelsy of the period, as well as of more elegant
literature,--the drama, and romantic fiction. But fact was stranger than
fiction. It would have been difficult to exaggerate the number of the
Christian captives, or the amount of their sufferings. On the conquest
of Tunis by Charles the Fifth, in 1535, ten thousand of these unhappy
persons, as we are assured, walked forth from its dungeons, and knelt,
with tears of gratitude and joy, at the feet of their liberator.
Charitable associations were formed in Spain, for the sole purpose of
raising funds to ransom the Barbary prisoners. But the ransom demanded
was frequently exorbitant, and the efforts of these benevolent
fraternities made but a feeble impression on the whole number of
captives.
Thus the war between the Cross and the Crescent was still carried on
along the shores of the Mediterranean, when the day of the Crusades was
past in most of the other quarters of Christendom. The existence of the
Spaniard--as I have often had occasion to remark--was one long crusade;
and in the sixteenth century he was still doing battle with the infidel,
as stoutly as in the heroic days of the Cid. The furious contests with
the petty pirates of Barbary engendered in his bosom feelings of even
keener hostility than that which grew up in his contests with the Arabs,
where there was no skulking, predatory foe, but army was openly arrayed
against army, and they fought for the sovereignty of the Peninsula. The
feeling of religious hatred rekindled by the Moors of Africa extended
in some degree to the Morisco population, who still occupied those
territories on the southern borders of the monarchy which had belonged
to their ancestors, the Spanish Arabs. This feeling was increased by the
suspicion, not altogether without foundation, of a secret correspondence
between the Moriscos and their brethren on the Barbary coast. These
mingled sentiments of hatred and suspicion sharpened the sword of
persecution, and led to most disastrous consequences, which before long
will be unfolded to the reader.
Among the African corsairs was one by the name of Dragut, distinguished
for his daring spirit, and the pestilent activity with which he pursued
the commerce of the Spaniards. In early life he had been made prisoner
by Andrew Doria; and the four years during which he was chained to the
oar in the galleys of Genoa did not serve to mitigate the feelings of
hatred which he had always borne to the Christians. On the recovery of
his freedom, he resumed his desperate trade of a corsair with renewed
activity. Having made himself master of Tripoli, he issued out, with his
galleys, from that stronghold, fell on the defenceless merchantman,
ravaged the coasts, engaged boldly in fight with the Christian
squadrons, and made his name as terrible, throughout the Mediterranean,
as that of Barbarossa had been in the time of Charles the Fifth.
The people of the southern provinces, smarting under their sufferings,
had more than once besought Philip to send an expedition against
Tripoli, and, if possible, break up this den of thieves, and rid the
Mediterranean of the formidable corsair. But Philip, who was in the
midst of his victorious campaigns against the French, had neither the
leisure nor the resources, at that time, for such an enterprise. In the
spring of 1559, however, he gave orders to the duke of Medina Celi,
viceroy of Sicily, to fit out an armament for the purpose, to obtain the
coöperation of the Italian states, and to take command of the
expedition.
A worse choice for the command could not have been made; and this not so
much from the duke's inexperience; for an apprenticeship to the sea was
not deemed necessary to form a naval commander, in an age when men
passed indifferently from the land-service to the sea-service. But, with
the exception of personal courage, the duke of Medina Celi seems to have
possessed none of the qualities requisite in a commander, whether by
land or sea.
The different Italian powers--Tuscany, Rome, Naples, Sicily, Genoa--all
furnished their respective quotas. John Andrew Doria, nephew of the
great Andrew, and worthy of the name he bore, had command of the galleys
of the republic. To these was added the reinforcement of the
grand-master of Malta. The whole fleet amounted to more than a hundred
sail, fifty-four of which were galleys; by much the larger part being
furnished by Spain and her Italian provinces. Fourteen thousand troops
embarked on board the squadron. So much time was consumed in
preparation, that the armament was not got ready for sea till late in
October, 1559,--too late for acting with advantage on the stormy African
coast.
[Sidenote: EXPEDITION AGAINST TRIPOLI.]
This did not deter the viceroy, who, at the head of the combined fleet,
sailed out of the port of Syracuse in November. But the elements
conspired against this ill-starred expedition. Scarcely had the squadron
left the port, when it was assailed by a tempest, which scattered the
vessels, disabled some, and did serious damage to others. To add to the
calamity, an epidemic broke out among the men, caused by the bad quality
of the provisions furnished by the Genoese contractors. In his distress,
the duke of Medina Celi put in at the island of Malta. He met with a
hospitable reception from the grand-master; for hospitality was one of
the obligations of the order. Fall two mouths elapsed before the duke
was in a condition to reëmbark, with his force reduced nearly one third
by disease and death.
Meanwhile Dragut, having ascertained the object of the expedition, had
made every effort to put Tripoli in a posture of defence. At the same
time he sent to Constantinople, to solicit the aid of Solyman. The
Spanish admiral, in the crippled condition of his armament, determined
to postpone the attack on Tripoli to another time, and to direct his
operations for the present against the island of Jerbah, or, as it was
called by the Spaniards, Gelves. This place, situated scarcely a league
from the African shore, in the neighborhood of Tripoli, had long been
known as a nest of pirates, who did great mischief in the Mediterranean.
It was a place of ill-omen to the Spaniards, whose arms had met there
with a memorable reverse in the reign of Ferdinand the Catholic.[1272]
The duke, however, landing with his whole force, experienced little
resistance from the Moors, and soon made himself master of the place. It
was defended by a fortress fallen much out of repair; and, as the
Spanish commander proposed to leave a garrison there, he set about
restoring the fortifications, or rather constructing new ones. In this
work the whole army actively engaged; but nearly two months were
consumed before it was finished. The fortress was then mounted with
artillery, and provided with ammunition, and whatever was necessary for
its defence. Finally, a garrison was introduced into it, and the command
intrusted to a gallant officer, Don Alonzo de Sandé.
Scarcely had these arrangements been completed, and the troops prepared
to reëmbark, when advices reached the duke that a large Turkish fleet
was on its way from Constantinople to the assistance of Dragut. The
Spanish admiral called a council of war on board of his ship. Opinions
were divided. Some, among whom was Doria, considering the crippled
condition of their squadron, were for making the best of their way back
to Sicily. Others, regarding this as a course unworthy of Spaniards,
were for standing out to sea, and giving battle to the enemy. The duke,
perplexed by the opposite opinions, did not come to a decision. He was
soon spared the necessity of it by the sight of the Ottoman fleet, under
full sail, bearing rapidly down on him. It consisted of eighty-six
galleys, each carrying a hundred janizaries; and it was commanded by the
Turkish admiral, Piali, a name long dreaded in the Mediterranean.
At the sight of this formidable armament, the Christians were seized
with a panic. They scarcely offered any resistance to the enemy; who,
dashing into the midst of them, sent his broadsides to the right and
left, sinking some of the ships, disabling others, while those out of
reach of his guns shamefully sought safety in flight. Seventeen of the
combined squadron were sunk; four-and-twenty, more or less injured,
struck their colors; a few succeeded in regaining the island, and took
shelter under the guns of the fortress. Medina Celi and Doria were among
those who thus made their way to the shore; and under cover of the
darkness, on the following night, they effected their escape in a
frigate, passing, as by a miracle, without notice, through the enemy's
fleet, and thus securing their retreat to Sicily. Never was there a
victory more humiliating to the vanquished, or one which reflected less
glory on the victors.[1273]
Before embarking, the duke ordered Sandé to defend the place to the last
extremity, promising him speedy assistance. The garrison, thus left to
carry on the contest with the whole Turkish army, amounted to about
five thousand men; its original strength being considerably augmented by
the fugitives from the fleet.
On the following morning, Piali landed with his whole force, and
instantly proceeded to open trenches before the citadel. When he had
established his batteries of cannon, he sent a summons to the garrison
to surrender. Sandé returned for answer, that, "if the place were won,
it would not be, like Piali's late victory, without bloodshed." The
Turkish commander waited no longer, but opened a lively cannonade on the
ramparts, which he continued for some days, till a practicable breach
was made. He then ordered a general assault. The janizaries rushed
forward with their usual impetuosity, under a murderous discharge of
artillery and small arms from the fortress as well as from the shipping,
which was so situated as to support the fire of the besieged. Nothing
daunted, the brave Moslems pushed forward over the bodies of their
fallen comrades; and, scrambling across the ditch, the leading files
succeeded in throwing themselves into the breach. But here they met with
a spirit as determined as their own, from the iron array of warriors,
armed with pike and arquebuse, who, with Sandé at their head, formed a
wall as impenetrable as the ramparts of the fortress. The contest was
now carried on man against man, and in a space too narrow to allow the
enemy to profit by his superior numbers. The besieged, meanwhile, from
the battlements, hurled down missiles of every description on the heads
of the assailants. The struggle lasted for some hours. But Spanish valor
triumphed in the end, and the enemy was driven back in disorder across
the moat, while his rear files were sorely galled, in his retreat, by
the incessant fire of the fortress.
Incensed by the failure of his attack and the slaughter of his brave
followers, Piali thought it prudent to wait till he should be reinforced
by the arrival of Dragut with a fresh supply of men and of battering
ordnance. The besieged profited by the interval to repair their works,
and when Dragut appeared they were nearly as well prepared for the
contest as before.
On the corsair's arrival, Piali, provided with a heavier battering
train, opened a more effective fire on the citadel. The works soon gave
way, and the Turkish commander promptly returned to the assault. It was
conducted with the same spirit, was met with the same desperate courage,
and ended, like the former, in the total discomfiture of the assailants,
who withdrew, leaving the fosse choked up with the bodies of their
slaughtered comrades. Again and again the attack was renewed, by an
enemy whose numbers allowed the storming parties to relieve one another,
while the breaches made by an unintermitting cannonade gave incessant
occupation to the besieged in repairing them. Fortunately, the number of
the latter enabled them to perform this difficult service; and though
many were disabled, and there were few who were not wounded, they still
continued to stand to their posts, with the same spirit as on the first
day of the siege.
[Sidenote: DESPERATE DEFENCE OF GELVES.]
But the amount of the garrison, so serviceable in this point of view,
was fatal in another. The fortress had been provisioned with reference
to a much smaller force. The increased number of mouths was thus doing
the work of the enemy. Notwithstanding the strictest economy, there was
already a scarcity of provisions; and, at the end of six weeks, the
garrison was left entirely without food. The water too had failed. A
soldier had communicated to the Spanish commander an ingenious process
for distilling fresh water from salt.[1274] This afforded a most
important supply, though in a very limited quantity. But the wood which
furnished the fuel necessary for the process was at length exhausted,
and to hunger was added the intolerable misery of thirst.
Thus reduced to extremity, the brave Sandé was not reduced to despair.
Calling his men together, he told them that liberty was of more value
than life. Anything was better than to surrender to such an enemy. And
he proposed to them to sally from the fortress that very night, and cut
their way, if possible, through the Turkish army, or fall in the
attempt. The Spaniards heartily responded to the call of their heroic
leader. They felt, like him, that the doom of slavery was more terrible
than death.
That night, or rather two hours before dawn on the twenty-ninth of June,
Don Alvaro sallied out of the fortress, at the head of all those who
were capable of bearing arms. But they amounted to scarcely more than a
thousand men, so greatly had the garrison been diminished by death, or
disabled by famine and disease. Under cover of the darkness, they
succeeded in passing through the triple row of intrenchments, without
alarming the slumbering enemy. At length, roused by the cries of their
sentinels, the Turks sprang to their arms, and, gathering in dark masses
round the Christians, presented an impenetrable barrier to their
advance. The contest now became furious; but it was short. The heroic
little band were too much enfeebled by their long fatigues, and by the
total want of food for the last two days, to make head against the
overwhelming number of their assailants. Many fell under the Turkish
scymitars, and the rest, after a fierce struggle, were forced back on
the path by which they had come, and took refuge in the fort. Their
dauntless leader, refusing to yield, succeeded in cutting his way
through the enemy, and threw himself into one of the vessels in the
port. Here he was speedily followed by such a throng as threatened to
sink the bark, and made resistance hopeless. Yielding up his sword,
therefore, he was taken prisoner, and led off in triumph to the tent of
the Turkish commander.
On the same day the remainder of the garrison, unable to endure another
assault, surrendered at discretion. Piali had now accomplished the
object of the expedition; and, having reëstablished the Moorish
authorities in possession of the place, he embarked, with his whole
army, for Constantinople. The tidings of his victory had preceded him;
and, as he proudly sailed up the Bosphorus, he was greeted with thunders
of artillery from the seraglio and the heights surrounding the capital.
First came the Turkish galleys, in beautiful order, with the banners
taken from the Christians ignominiously trailing behind them through the
water. Then followed their prizes,--the seventeen vessels taken in the
action,--the battered condition of which formed a striking contrast to
that of their conquerors. But the prize greater than all was the
prisoners, amounting to nearly four thousand, who, manacled like so many
malefactors, were speedily landed, and driven through the streets,
amidst the shouts and hootings of the populace, to the slave-market of
Constantinople. A few only, of the higher order, were reserved for
ransom. Among them were Don Alvaro de Sandé and a son of Medina Celi.
The young nobleman did not long survive his captivity. Don Alvaro
recovered his freedom, and lived to take ample vengeance for all he had
suffered on his conquerors.[1275]
Such was the end of the disastrous expedition against Tripoli, which
left a stain on the Spanish arms that even the brave conduct of the
garrison at Gelves could not wholly wipe away. The Moors were greatly
elated by the discomfiture of their enemies; and the Spaniards were
filled with a proportionate degree of despondency, as they reflected to
what extent their coasts and their commerce would be exposed to the
predatory incursions of the corsairs. Philip was especially anxious in
regard to the safety of his possessions on the African coast. The two
principal of these were Oran and Mazarquivir, situated not far to the
west of Algiers. They were the conquests of Cardinal Ximenes. The former
place was won by an expedition fitted out at his own expense. The
enterprises of this remarkable man were conducted on a gigantic scale,
which might seem better suited to the revenues of princes. Of the two
places Oran was the more considerable; yet hardly more important than
Mazarquivir, which possessed an excellent harbor,--a thing of rare
occurrence on the Barbary shore. Both had been cherished with care by
the Castilian government, and by no monarch more than by Philip the
Second, who perfectly understood the importance of these possessions,
both for the advantages of a commodious harbor, and for the means they
gave him of bridling the audacity of the African cruisers.[1276]
In 1562, the king ordered a squadron of four and twenty galleys, under
the command of Don Juan de Mendoza, to be got ready in the port of
Malaga, to carry supplies to the African colonies. But in crossing the
Mediterranean, the ships were assailed by a furious tempest, which
compelled them to take refuge in the little port of Herradura. The fury
of the storm, however, continued to increase; and the vessels, while
riding at anchor, dashed against one another with such violence, that
many of them foundered, and others, parting their cables, drifted on
shore, which was covered far and wide with the dismal wrecks. Two or
three only, standing out to sea, and braving the hurricane on the deep,
were so fortunate as to escape. By this frightful shipwreck, four
thousand men, including their commander, were swallowed up by the waves.
The southern provinces were filled with consternation at this new
calamity, coming so soon after the defeat at Gelves. It seemed as if the
hand of Providence was lifted against them in their wars with the
Mussulmans.[1277]
[Sidenote: WAR ON THE BARBARY COAST.]
The Barbary Moors, encouraged by the losses of the Spanish navy, thought
this a favorable time for recovering their ancient possessions on the
coast. Hassem, the dey of Algiers, in particular, a warlike prince, who
had been engaged in more than one successful encounter with the
Christians, set on foot an expedition against the territories of Oran
and Mazarquivir. The government of these places was intrusted, at that
time, to Don Alonzo de Cordova, count of Alcaudete. In this post he had
succeeded his father, a gallant soldier, who, five years before, had
been slain in battle by this very Hassem, the lord of Algiers. Eight
thousand Spaniards had fallen with him on the field, or had been made
prisoners of war.[1278] Such were the sad auspices under which the
reign of Philip the Second began, in his wars with the Moslems.[1279]
Oran, at this time, was garrisoned by seventeen hundred men; and
twenty-seven pieces of artillery were mounted on its walls. Its
fortifications were in good repair; but it was in no condition to stand
a siege by so formidable a force as that which Hassem was mustering in
Algiers. The count of Alcaudete, the governor, a soldier worthy of the
illustrious stock from which he sprang, lost no time in placing both
Oran and Mazarquivir in the best state of defence which his means
allowed, and in acquainting Philip with the peril in which he stood.
Meanwhile, the Algerine chief was going briskly forward with his
preparations. Besides his own vassals, he summoned to his aid the petty
princes of the neighboring country; and in a short time he had assembled
a host in which Moors, Arabs, and Turks were promiscuously mingled, and
which, in the various estimates of the Spaniards, rose from fifty to a
hundred thousand men.
Little reliance can be placed on the numerical estimates of the
Spaniards in their wars with the infidel. The gross exaggeration of the
numbers brought by the enemy into the field, and the numbers he was sure
to leave there, with the corresponding diminution of their own in both
particulars, would seem to infer that, in these religious wars, they
thought some miracle was necessary to show that Heaven was on their
side, and the greater the miracle the greater the glory. This
hyperbolical tone, characteristic of the old Spaniards, and said to have
been imported from the East, is particularly visible in the accounts of
their struggles with the Spanish Arabs, where large masses were brought
into the field on both sides, and where the reports of a battle took
indeed the coloring of an Arabian tale. The same taint of exaggeration,
though somewhat mitigated, continued to a much later period, and may be
observed in the reports of the contests with the Moslems, whether Turks
or Moors, in the sixteenth century.
On the fifteenth of March, 1563, Hassem left Algiers, at the head of his
somewhat miscellaneous array, sending his battering train of artillery
round by water, to meet him at the port of Mazarquivir. He proposed to
begin by the siege of this place, which, while it would afford a
convenient harbor for his navy, would, by its commanding position,
facilitate the conquest of Oran. Leaving a strong body of men,
therefore, for the investment of the latter, he continued his march on
Mazarquivir, situated at only two leagues' distance. The defence of this
place was intrusted by Alcaudete to his brother, Don Martin de Cordova.
Its fortifications were in good condition, and garnished with near
thirty pieces of artillery. It was garrisoned by five hundred men, was
well provided with ammunition, and was victualled for a two months'
siege. It was also protected by a detached fort, called St. Michael,
built by the count of Alcaudete, and, from its commanding position, now
destined to be the first object of attack. The fort was occupied by a
few hundred Spaniards, who, as it was of great moment to gain time for
the arrival of succors from Spain, were ordered to maintain it to the
last extremity.
Hassem was not long in opening trenches. Impatient, however, of the
delay of his fleet, which was detained by the weather, he determined not
to wait for the artillery, but to attempt to carry the fort by escalade.
In this attempt, though conducted with spirit, he met with so decided a
repulse, that he abandoned the project of further operations till the
arrival of his ships. No sooner did this take place, than, landing his
heavy guns, he got them into position as speedily as possible, and
opened a lively cannonade on the walls of the fortress. The walls were
of no great strength. A breach was speedily made; and Hassem gave orders
for the assault.
No sooner was the signal given, than Moor, Turk, Arab,--the various
races in whose veins glowed the hot blood of the south,--sprang
impetuously forward. In vain the leading files, as they came on, were
swept away by the artillery of the fortress, while the guns of
Mazarquivir did equal execution on their flank. The tide rushed on, with
an enthusiasm that overleaped every obstacle. Each man seemed emulous of
his comrade, as if desirous to show the superiority of his own tribe or
race. The ditch, choked up with the _débris_ of the rampart and the
fascines that had been thrown into it, was speedily crossed; and while
some sprang fearlessly into the breach, others endeavored to scale the
walls. But everywhere they were met by men as fresh for action as
themselves, and possessed of a spirit as intrepid. The battle raged
along the parapet, and in the breach, where the struggle was deadliest.
It was the old battle, so often fought, of the Crescent and the Cross,
the fiery African and the cool, indomitable European. Arquebuse and
pike, sabre and scymitar, clashed fearfully against each other; while
high above the din rose the war-cries of "Allah!" and "St. Jago!"
showing the creeds and countries of the combatants.
At one time it seemed as if the enthusiasm of the Moslems would prevail;
and twice the standard of the Crescent was planted on the walls. But it
was speedily torn down by the garrison, and the bold adventurers who had
planted it thrown headlong into the moat.
Meanwhile an incessant fire of musketry was kept up from the ramparts;
and hand-grenades, mingled with barrels of burning pitch, were hurled
down on the heads of the assailants, whose confusion was increased, as
their sight was blinded by the clouds of smoke which rose from the
fascines that had taken fire in the ditch. But although their efforts
began to slacken, they were soon encouraged by fresh detachments sent to
their support by Hassem, and the fight was renewed with redoubled fury.
These efforts, however, proved equally ineffectual. The Moors were
driven back on all points; and, giving way before the invincible courage
of the Spaniards, they withdrew in such disorder across the fosse, now
bridged over with the bodies of the slain, that, if the garrison had
been strong enough in numbers, they might have followed the foe to his
trenches, and inflicted such a blow as would at once have terminated the
siege. As it was, the loss of the enemy was fearful; while that of the
Spaniards, screened by their defences, was comparatively light. Yet a
hundred lives of the former, so overwhelming were their numbers, were of
less account than a single life among the latter. The heads of fifty
Turks, who had fallen in the breach or in the ditch, were cut off, as we
are told, by the garrison, and sent, as the grisly trophies of their
victory, to Oran;[1280] showing the feelings of bitter hatred--perhaps
of fear--with which this people was regarded by the Christians.
[Sidenote: WAR ON THE BARBARY COAST.]
The Moorish chief, chafing under this loss, reopened his fire on the
fortress with greater fury than ever. He then renewed the assault, but
with no better success. A third and a fourth time he returned to the
attack, but in vain. In vain too Hassem madly tore off his turban, and,
brandishing his scymitar, with imprecations on his men, drove them
forward to the fight. There was no lack of spirit in his followers, who
poured out their blood like water. But it could not shake the constancy
of the Spaniards, which seemed even to grow stronger as their situation
became more desperate; and as their defences were swept away, they threw
themselves on their knees, and from behind the ruins still poured down
their volleys of musketry on the assailants.
Yet they could not have maintained their ground so long, but for a
seasonable reinforcement received from Mazarquivir. But, however high
the spirit, there is a limit to the powers of endurance; and the
strength of the garrison was rapidly giving way under incessant vigils
and want of food. Their fortifications, moreover, pierced through and
through by the enemy's shot, were no longer tenable; and a mine, which
Hassem was now prepared to run under the ramparts, would complete the
work of destruction. They had obeyed their orders, and stood to their
defence gallantly to the last; and they now obtained leave to abandon
the fort. On the seventh of May, after having sustained eight assaults
and a siege of three weeks, from a host so superior to them in numbers,
the garrison marched out of the fortress of St. Michael. Under cover of
the guns of Mazarquivir, they succeeded in rejoining their comrades
there with but little loss, and were gladly welcomed by their commander,
Don Martin de Cordova, who rendered them the honor due to their heroic
conduct. That same day Hassem took possession of the fortress. He found
only a heap of ruins.[1281]
The Moorish prince, stung with mortification at the price he had paid
for his victory, and anxious, moreover, to anticipate the arrival of
succors from Spain, now eagerly pressed forward the siege of
Mazarquivir. With the assistance of his squadron, the place was closely
invested by sea and land. Batteries of heavy guns were raised on
opposite sides of the castle; and for ten days they thundered, without
interruption, on its devoted walls. When these had been so far shaken as
to afford an opening to the besiegers, Hassem, willing to spare the
further sacrifice of his men, sent a summons to Don Martin to surrender,
intimating, at the same time, that the works were in too ruinous a
condition to be defended. To this the Spaniard coolly replied, that, "if
they were in such a condition, Hassem might come and take them."
On the signal from their chief, the Moors moved rapidly forward to the
attack, and were soon brought face to face with their enemy. A bloody
conflict followed, in the breach and on the ramparts. It continued more
than five hours. The assailants found they had men of the same mettle to
deal with as before, and with defences yet stronger than those they had
encountered in the fortress of St. Michael. Here again the ardor of the
African proved no match for the cool and steady courage of the European;
and Hassem's forces, repulsed on every quarter, withdrew in so mangled a
condition to their trenches, that he was in no state for several days to
renew the assault.[1282]
It would be tedious to rehearse the operations of a siege so closely
resembling in its details that of the fortress of St. Michael. The most
conspicuous figure in the bloody drama was the commander of the
garrison, Don Martin de Cordova. Freely exposing himself to hardship and
danger with the meanest of his followers, he succeeded in infusing his
own unconquerable spirit into their bosoms. On the eve of an assault he
might be seen passing through the ranks with a crucifix in his hand,
exhorting his men, by the blessed sign of their redemption, to do their
duty, and assuring them of the protection of Heaven.[1283] Every
soldier, kindling with the enthusiasm of his leader, looked on himself
as a soldier of the Cross, and felt assured that the shield of the
Almighty must be stretched over those who were thus fighting the battles
of the Faith. The women caught somewhat of the same generous ardor, and,
instead of confining themselves to the feminine occupations of nursing
the sick and the wounded, took an active part in the duties of the
soldiers, and helped to lighten their labors.
Still the condition of the garrison became daily more precarious, as
their strength diminished, and their defences crumbled around them under
the incessant fire of the besiegers. The count of Alcaudete in vain
endeavored to come to their relief, or at least to effect a diversion in
their favor. Sallying out of Oran, he had more than one sharp encounter
with the enemy. But the odds against him were too great; and though he
spread carnage among the Moslem ranks, he could ill afford the sacrifice
of life that it cost him. In the mean time, the two garrisons were
assailed by an enemy from within, more inexorable than the enemy at
their gates. Famine had begun to show itself in some of its hideous
forms. They were already reduced to the necessity of devouring the flesh
of their horses and asses;[1284] and even that was doled out so
scantily, as too plainly intimated that this sustenance, wretched as it
was, was soon to fail them. Under these circumstances, their spirits
would have sunk, had they not been sustained by the expectation of
succor from Spain; and they cast many a wistful glance on the
Mediterranean, straining their eyes to the farthest verge of the
horizon, to see if they could not descry some friendly sail upon the
waters.
But Philip was not unmindful of them. Independently of the importance of
the posts, he felt his honor to be deeply concerned in the protection of
the brave men, who were battling there, for the cause not merely of
Castile, but of Christendom. No sooner had he been advised by Alcaudete
of the peril in which he stood, than he gave orders that a fleet should
be equipped to go to his relief. But such orders, in the disabled
condition of the navy, were more easily given than executed. Still,
efforts were made to assemble an armament, and get it ready in the
shortest possible time. Even the vessels employed to convoy the India
galleons were pressed into the service. The young cavaliers of the
southern provinces eagerly embarked as volunteers in an expedition which
afforded them an opportunity for avenging the insults offered to the
Spanish arms. The other states bordering on the Mediterranean, which
had, in fact, almost as deep an interest in the cause as Spain herself,
promptly furnished their contingents. To these were to be added, as
usual, the galleys of the Knights of Malta, always foremost to unfurl
the banner in a war with the infidel. In less than two months an
armament consisting of forty-two large galleys, besides smaller vessels,
well manned and abundantly supplied with provisions and military stores,
was assembled in the port of Malaga. It was placed under the command of
Don Antonio de Mendoza; who, on the sixth of June, weighed anchor, and
steered directly for the Barbary coast.
[Sidenote: WAR ON THE BARBARY COAST.]
On the morning of the eighth, at early dawn, the sentinels on the
ramparts of Mazarquivir descried the fleet like a dark speck on the
distant waters. As it drew nearer, and the rising sun, glancing on the
flag of Castile, showed that the long-promised succor was at hand, the
exhausted garrison, almost on the brink of despair, gave themselves up
to a delirium of joy. They embraced one another, like men rescued from a
terrible fate, and, with swelling hearts, offered up thanksgivings to
the Almighty for their deliverance. Soon the cannon of Mazarquivir
proclaimed the glad tidings to the garrison of Oran, who replied, from
their battlements, in thunders which carried dismay into the hearts of
the besiegers. If Hassem had any doubt of the cause of these rejoicings,
it was soon dispelled by several Moorish vessels, which, scudding before
the enemy, like the smaller birds before the eagle, brought report that
a Spanish fleet under full sail was standing for Mazarquivir.
No time was to be lost. He commanded his ships lying in the harbor to
slip their cables and make the best of their way to Algiers. Orders were
given at once to raise the siege. Everything was abandoned. Whatever
could be of service to the enemy was destroyed. Hassem caused his guns
to be overcharged, and blew them to pieces.[1285] He disencumbered
himself of whatever might retard his movements, and, without further
delay, began his retreat.
No sooner did Alcaudete descry the army of the besiegers on its march
across the hills, than he sallied out, at the head of his cavalry, to
annoy them on their retreat. He was soon joined by his brother from
Mazarquivir, with such of the garrison as were in condition for service.
But the enemy had greatly the start of them. When the Spaniards came up
with his rear-guard, they found it entirely composed of janizaries; and
this valiant corps, maintaining its usual discipline, faced about and
opposed so determined a front to the assailants, that Alcaudete, not
caring to risk the advantages he had already gained, drew off his men,
and left a free passage to the enemy. The soldiers of the two garrisons
now mingled together, and congratulated one another on their happy
deliverance, recounting their exploits, and the perils and privations
they had endured; while Alcaudete, embracing his heroic brother, could
hardly restrain his tears, as he gazed on his wan, emaciated
countenance, and read there the story of his sufferings.
The tidings of the repulse of the Moslems were received with unbounded
joy throughout Spain. The deepest sympathy had been felt for the brave
men who, planted on the outposts of the empire, seemed to have been
abandoned to their fate. The king shared in the public sentiment, and
showed his sense of the gallant conduct of Alcaudete and his soldiers,
by the honors and emoluments he bestowed on them. That nobleman, besides
the grant of a large annual revenue, was made viceroy of Navarre. His
brother, Don Martin de Cordova, received the _encomienda_ of Hornachos,
with the sum of six thousand ducats. Officers of inferior rank obtained
the recompense due to their merits. Even the common soldiers were not
forgotten; and the government, with politic liberality, settled pensions
on the wives and children of those who had perished in the siege.[1286]
Philip now determined to follow up his success; and, instead of
confining himself to the defensive, he prepared to carry the war into
the enemy's country. His first care, however, was to restore the
fortifications of Mazarquivir, which soon rose from their ruins in
greater strength and solidity than before. He then projected an
expedition against Peñon de Velez de la Gomera, a place situated to the
west of his own possessions on the Barbary coast. It was a rocky island
fortress, which, from the great strength of its defences, as well as
from its natural position, was deemed impregnable. It was held by a
fierce corsair, whose name had long been terrible in these seas. In the
summer of 1564, the king, with the aid of his allies, got together a
powerful armament, and sent it at once against Peñon de Velez. This
fortress did not make the resistance to have been expected; and, after a
siege of scarcely a week's duration, the garrison submitted to the
superior valor--or numbers--of the Christians.[1287]
This conquest was followed up, the ensuing year, by an expedition under
Don Alvaro Bazan, the first marquis of Santa Cruz,--a name memorable in
the naval annals of Castile. The object of the expedition was to block
up the entrance to the river Tetuan, in the neighborhood of the late
conquest. The banks of this river had long been the refuge of a horde of
pestilent marauders, who, swarming out of its mouth, spread over the
Mediterranean, and fell heavily on the commerce of the Christians. Don
Alvaro accomplished his object in the face of a desperate enemy, and,
after some hard fighting, succeeded in sinking nine brigantines laden
with stones in the mouth of the river, and thus effectually obstructed
its navigation.[1288]
These brilliant successes caused universal rejoicing through Spain and
the neighboring countries. They were especially important for the
influence they exerted on the spirits of the Christians, depressed as
these had been by a long series of maritime reverses. The Spaniards
resumed their ancient confidence, as they saw that victory had once more
returned to their banner; and their ships, which had glided like
spectres under the shadow of the coast, now, losing their apprehensions
of the corsair, pushed boldly out upon the deep. The Moslems, on the
other hand, as they beheld their navies discomfited, and one strong
place after another wrested from their grasp, lost heart, and for a
time, at least, were in no condition for active enterprise.
But while the arms of Spain were thus successful in chastising the
Barbary corsairs, rumors reached the country of hostile preparations
going forward in the East, of a more formidable character than any on
the shores of Africa. The object of these preparations was not Spain
itself, but Malta. Yet this little island, the bulwark of Christendom,
was so intimately connected with the fortunes of Spain, that an account
of its memorable siege can hardly be deemed an episode in the history of
Philip the Second.
[Sidenote: MASTERS OF RHODES.]
CHAPTER II.
THE KNIGHTS HOSPITALLERS OF ST. JOHN.
Masters of Rhodes.--Driven from Rhodes.--Established at Malta.--Menaced
by Solyman.--La Valette.--His Preparations for Defence.
1565.
The order of the Knights of Malta traces its origin to a remote
period--to the time of the first crusade, in the eleventh century. A
religious association was then formed in Palestine, under the title of
Hospitallers of St. John the Baptist, the object of which, as the name
imports, was to minister to the wants of the sick. There was a good
harvest of these among the poor pilgrims who wandered from all parts of
Europe to the Holy Land. It was not long before the society assumed
other duties, of a military nature, designed for the defence of the
pilgrim no less than his relief; and the new society, under the name of
the Knights Hospitallers of St. John, besides the usual monastic vows,
pledged themselves to defend the Holy Sepulchre, and to maintain
perpetual war against the infidel.[1289]
In its new form, so consonant with the spirit of the age, the
institution found favor with the bold crusaders, and the accession of
members from different parts of Christendom greatly enlarged its power
and political consequence. It soon rivalled the fraternity of the
Templars, and, like that body, became one of the principal pillars of
the throne of Jerusalem. After the fall of that kingdom, and the
expulsion of the Christians from Palestine, the Knights of St. John
remained a short while in Cyprus, when they succeeded in conquering
Rhodes from the Turks, and thus secured to themselves a permanent
residence.
Placed in the undisputed sovereignty of this little island, the Knights
of Rhodes, as they were now usually called, found themselves on a new
and independent theatre of action, where they could display all the
resources of their institutions, and accomplish their glorious
destinies. Thrown into the midst of the Mussulmans, on the borders of
the Ottoman Empire, their sword was never in the scabbard. Their galleys
spread over the Levant, and, whether alone or with the Venetians,--the
rivals of the Turks in those seas,--they faithfully fulfilled their vow
of incessant war with the infidel. Every week saw their victorious
galleys returning to port with the rich prizes taken from the enemy; and
every year the fraternity received fresh accessions of princes and
nobles from every part of Christendom, eager to obtain admission into so
illustrious an order. Many of these were possessed of large estates,
which, on their admission, were absorbed in those of the community.
Their manors, scattered over Europe, far exceeded in number those of
their rivals, the Templars, in their most palmy state.[1290] And on the
suppression of that order, such of its vast possessions as were not
seized by the rapacious princes in whose territories they were lodged,
were suffered to pass into the hands of the Knights of St. John. The
commanderies of the latter--those conventual establishments which
faithfully reflected the parent institution in their discipline--were so
prudently administered, that a large surplus from their revenues was
annually remitted to enrich the treasury of the order.
The government of this chivalrous fraternity, as provided by the
statutes which formed its written constitution, was in its nature
aristocratical. At the head was the grand-master, elected by the knights
from their own body, and, like the doge of Venice, holding his office
for life, with an authority scarcely larger than that of this dignitary.
The legislative and judicial functions were vested in councils, in which
the grand-master enjoyed no higher privilege than that of a double vote.
But his patronage was extensive, for he had the nomination to the most
important offices, both at home and abroad. The variety and
high-sounding titles of these offices may provoke a smile in the reader,
who might fancy himself occupied with the concerns of a great empire,
rather than those of a little brotherhood of monks. The grand-master,
indeed, in his manner of living, affected the state of a sovereign
prince. He sent his ambassadors to the principal European courts; and a
rank was conceded to him next to that of crowned heads,--above that of
any ducal potentate.[1291]
He was enabled to maintain this position by the wealth which, from the
sources already enumerated, flowed into the exchequer. Great sums were
spent in placing the island in the best state of defence, in
constructing public works, palaces for the grand-master, aad ample
accommodations for the various _languages_,--a technical term, denoting
the classification of the members according to their respective nations;
finally, in the embellishment of the capital, which vied in the splendor
of its architecture with the finest cities of Christendom.
Yet, with this show of pomp and magnificence, the Knights of Rhodes did
not sink into the enervating luxury which was charged on the Templars,
nor did they engage in those worldly, ambitious schemes which provoked
the jealousy of princes, and brought ruin on that proud order. In
prosperity as in poverty, they were still true to the principles of
their institution. Their galleys still spread over the Levant, and came
back victorious from their _caravans_, as their cruises against the
Moslems were termed. In every enterprise set on foot by the Christian
powers against the enemies of the Faith, the red banner of St. John,
with his eight-pointed cross of white, was still to be seen glittering
in the front of battle. There is no example of a military institution
having religion for its object which, under every change of condition,
and for so many centuries, maintained so inflexibly the purity of its
principles, and so conscientiously devoted itself to the great object
for which it was created.
[Sidenote: MASTERS OF RHODES.]
It was not to be expected that a mighty power, like that of the Turks,
would patiently endure the existence of a petty enemy on its borders,
which, if not formidable from extent of population and empire, like
Venice, was even more annoying by its incessant hostilities, and its
depredations on the Turkish commerce. More than one sultan, accordingly,
hoping to rid themselves of the annoyance, fitted out expeditions
against the island, with the design of crushing the hornets in their
nest. But in every attempt they were foiled by the valor of this little
band of Christian chivalry. At length, in 1522, Solyman the Second led
an expedition in person against Rhodes. For six months the brave
knights, with their own good swords, unaided by a single European power,
withstood the whole array of the Ottoman empire; and when at length,
compelled to surrender, they obtained such honorable terms from Solyman
as showed he knew how to respect valor, though in a Christian foe.
Once more without a home, the Knights of St. John were abroad on the
world. The European princes, affecting to consider the order as now
extinct, prepared to confiscate whatever possessions it had in their
several dominions. From this ruin it was saved by the exertions of
L'Isle Adam, the grand-master, who showed, at this crisis, as much skill
in diplomacy as he had before shown prowess in the field. He visited the
principal courts in person, and by his insinuating address, as well as
arguments, not only turned the sovereigns from their purpose, but
secured effectual aid for his unfortunate brethren. The pope offered
them a temporary asylum in the papal territory; and Charles the Fifth
was induced to cede to the order the island of Malta, and its
dependencies, with entire jurisdiction over them, for their permanent
residence.
Malta, which had been annexed by Charles's predecessors to Sicily, had
descended to that monarch as part of the dominions of the crown of
Aragon. In thus ceding it to the Knights of St. John, the politic prince
consulted his own interests quite as much as those of the order. He drew
no revenue from the rocky isle, but, on the contrary, was charged with
its defence against the Moorish corsairs, who made frequent descents on
the spot, wasting the country, and dragging off the miserable people
into slavery. By this transfer of the island to the military order of
St. John, he not only relieved himself of all further expense on its
account, but secured a permanent bulwark for the protection of his own
dominions.
It was wise in the emperor to consent that the gift should be burdened
with no other condition than the annual payment of a falcon in token of
his feudal supremacy. It was also stipulated, that the order should at
no time bear arms against Sicily; a stipulation hardly necessary with
men who, by their vows, were pledged to fight in defence of Christendom,
and not against it.[1292]
In October, 1530, L'Isle Adam and his brave associates took possession
of their new domain. Their hearts sunk within them, as their eyes
wandered over the rocky expanse, forming a sad contrast to the beautiful
"land of roses" which had so long been their abode.[1293] But it was not
very long before the wilderness before them was to blossom like the rose
under their diligent culture.[1294] Earth was brought in large
quantities, and at great cost, from Sicily. Terraces to receive it were
hewn in the steep sides of the rock; and the soil, quickened by the
ardent sun of Malta, was soon clothed with the glowing vegetation of the
south. Still, it did not raise the grain necessary for the consumption
of the island. This was regularly imported from Sicily, and stored in
large pits or caverns, excavated in the rock, which, hermetically
closed, preserved their contents unimpaired for years. In a short time,
too, the island bristled with fortifications, which, combined with its
natural defences, enabled its garrison to defy the attacks of the
corsair. To these works was added the construction of suitable dwellings
for the accommodation of the order. But it was long after, and not until
the land had been desolated by the siege on which we are now to enter,
that it was crowned with the stately edifices which eclipsed those of
Rhodes itself, and made Malta the pride of the Mediterranean.[1295]
In their new position the knights were not very differently situated
from what they had been in the Levant. They were still encamped amongst
the infidel, with the watch-fires of the enemy blazing around them.
Again their galleys sailed forth to battle with the corsairs, and
returned laden with the spoils of victory. Still the white cross of St.
John was to be seen in the post of danger. In all the expeditions of
Charles the Fifth and Philip the Second against the Barbary Moors, from
the siege of Tunis to the capture of Peñon de Velez, they bore a
prominent part. With the bravery of the soldier, they combined the skill
of the mariner; and on that disastrous day when the Christian navy was
scattered before Algiers, the Maltese galleys were among the few that
rode out the tempest.[1296] It was not long before the name of the
Knights of Malta became as formidable on the southern shores of the
Mediterranean, as that of the Knights of Rhodes had been in the East.
[Sidenote: LA VALETTE.]
Occasionally their galleys, sweeping by the mouth of the Adriatic,
passed into the Levant, and boldly encountered their old enemy on his
own seas, even with odds greatly against them.[1297] The Moors of the
Barbary coast, smarting under the losses inflicted on them by their
indefatigable foe, more than once besought the sultan to come to their
aid, and avenge the insults offered to his religion on the heads of the
offenders. At this juncture occurred the capture of a Turkish galleon in
the Levant. It was a huge vessel, richly laden, and defended by twenty
guns and two hundred janizaries. After a desperate action, she was taken
by the Maltese galleys, and borne off, a welcome prize, to the island.
She belonged to the chief eunuch of the imperial harem, some of the fair
inmates of which were said to have had an interest in the precious
freight.[1298] These persons now joined with the Moors in the demand for
vengeance. Solyman shared in the general indignation at the insult
offered to him under the walls, as it were, of his own capital; and he
resolved to signalize the close of his reign by driving the knights from
Malta, as he had the commencement of it by driving them from Rhodes.
As it was not improbable that the Christian princes would rally in
support of an order which had fought so many battles for Christendom,
Solyman made his preparations on a formidable scale. Rumors of these
spread far and wide; and, as their object was unknown, the great powers
on the Mediterranean, each fancying that its own dominions might be the
point of attack, lost no time in placing their coasts in a state of
defence. The king of Spain sent orders to his viceroy in Sicily to equip
such a fleet as would secure the safety of that island.
Meanwhile, the grand-master of Malta, by means of spies whom he secretly
employed in Constantinople, received intelligence of the real purpose of
the expedition. The post of grand-master, at this time, was held by Jean
Parisot de la Valette, a man whose extraordinary character, no less than
the circumstances in which he was placed, has secured him an
imperishable name on the page of history. He was of an ancient family
from the south of France, being of the _language_ of Provence. He was
now in the sixty-eighth year of his age.[1299] In his youth he had
witnessed the memorable siege of Rhodes, and had passed successively
through every post in the order, from the humblest to the highest, which
he now occupied. With large experience he combined a singular
discretion, and an inflexible spirit, founded on entire devotion to the
great cause in which he was engaged. It was the conviction of this
self-devotion which, in part, at least, may have given La Valette that
ascendancy over the minds of his brethren, which was so important at a
crisis like the present. It may have been the anticipation of such a
crisis that led to his election as grand-master in 1557, when the
darkness coming over the waters showed the necessity of an experienced
pilot to weather the storm.
No sooner had the grand-master learned the true destination of the
Turkish armament, than he sent his emissaries to the different Christian
powers, soliciting aid for the order in its extremity. He summoned the
knights absent in foreign lands to return to Malta, and take part with
their brethren in the coming struggle. He imported large supplies of
provisions and military stores from Sicily and Spain. He drilled the
militia of the island, and formed an effective body of more than three
thousand men; to which was added a still greater number of Spanish and
Italian troops, raised for him by the knights who were abroad. This
force was augmented by the extraordinary addition of five hundred
galley-slaves, whom La Valette withdrew from the oar, promising to give
them their freedom if they served him faithfully. Lastly, the
fortifications were put in repair, strengthened with outworks, and
placed in the best condition for resisting the enemy. All classes of the
inhabitants joined in this work. The knights themselves took their part
in the toilsome drudgery; and the grand-master did not disdain to labor
with the humblest of his followers. He not only directed, but, as hands
were wanted, he set the example of carrying his own orders into
execution. Wherever his presence was needed, he was to be
found,--ministering to the sick, cheering the desponding, stimulating
the indifferent, chiding the dilatory, watching over the interests of
the little community intrusted to his care with parental solicitude.
While thus employed, La Valette received a visit from the Sicilian
viceroy, Don Garcia de Toledo, the conqueror of Peñon de Velez. He came,
by Philip's orders, to concert with the grand-master the best means of
defence. He assured the latter that, so soon as he had assembled a
fleet, he would come to his relief; and he left his natural son with
him, to learn the art of war under so experienced a commander. La
Valette was comforted by the viceroy's promises of succor. But he well
knew that it was not to the promises of others he was to trust, in his
present exigency, but to his own efforts and those of his brave
companions.
The knights, in obedience to his call, had for the most part now
arrived, each bringing with him a number of servants and other
followers. Some few of the more aged and infirm remained behind; but
this not so much from infirmity and age, as from the importance of
having some of its members to watch over the interests of the community
at foreign courts. La Valette was touched by the alacrity with which his
brethren repaired to their posts, to stand by their order in the dark
hour of its fortunes. He tenderly embraced them; and soon afterwards,
calling them together, he discoursed with them on the perilous position
in which they stood, with the whole strength of the Moorish and Turkish
empires mustering against them. "It was the great battle of the Cross
and the Koran," he said, "that was now to be fought. They were the
chosen soldiers of the Cross; and, if Heaven required the sacrifice of
their lives, there could be no better time than this glorious occasion."
The grand-master then led the way to the chapel of the convent, where he
and his brethren, after devoutly confessing, partook of the sacrament,
and, at the foot of the altar, solemnly renewed their vows to defend the
Church against the infidel. With minds exalted by these spiritual
exercises, all worldly interests seemed, from that moment, says their
historian, to lose their hold on their affections. They stood like a
company of martyrs,--the forlorn hope of Christendom, prepared, as their
chief had said, to offer up their lives a sacrifice to the great cause
in which they were engaged. Such were the feelings with which La Valette
and his companions, having completed their preparations, now calmly
awaited the coming of the enemy.[1300]
CHAPTER III.
SIEGE OF MALTA.
Condition of Malta.--Arrival of the Turks.--They reconnoitre the
Island.--Siege of St. Elmo.--Its Heroic Defence.--Its Fall.
1565.
[Sidenote: CONDITION OF THE ISLAND.]
Before entering on the particulars of this memorable siege, it will be
necessary to make the reader somewhat acquainted with the country which
was the scene of operations. The island of Malta is about seventeen
miles long and nine broad. At the time of the siege it contained some
twelve thousand inhabitants, exclusive of the members of the order. They
were gathered, for the most part, into wretched towns and villages, the
principal one of which was defended by a wall of some strength, and was
dignified with the title of Civita Notable--"Illustrious City." As it
was situated in the interior, near the centre of the island, the knights
did not take up their residence there, but preferred the north-eastern
part of Malta, looking towards Sicily, and affording a commodious harbor
for their galleys.
The formation of the land in this quarter is very remarkable. A narrow,
rocky promontory stretches out into the Mediterranean, dividing its
waters into two small gulfs,--that on the west being called _Marza
Musiette_, or Port Musiette, and that towards the east, which now bears
the name of Valetta Harbor, being then known as the Great Port. The
extreme point of the promontory was crowned by the Castle of St. Elmo,
built by the order, soon after its arrival in the island, on the spot
which commanded the entrance into both harbors. It was a fortress of
considerable strength, for which it was chiefly indebted to its
position. Planted on the solid rock, and washed, for the greater part of
its circuit, by the waters of the Mediterranean, it needed no other
defence on that quarter. But towards the land it was more open to an
enemy; and, though protected by a dry ditch and a counterscarp, it was
thought necessary to secure it still further, by means of a ravelin on
the south-west, which La Valette had scarcely completed before the
arrival of the Turks.
Port Musiette, on the west, is that in which vessels now perform
quarantine. The Great Port was the most important; for round that was
gathered the little community of knights. Its entrance, which is not
more than a quarter of a mile in width, is commanded by two headlands,
one of them crested, as above mentioned, by the fort of St. Elmo. The
length of the harbor may be nearly two miles; and the water is of
sufficient depth for ships of the greatest burden to ride there in
security, sheltered within the encircling arms of the coast from the
storms of the Mediterranean.
From the eastern side of this basin shoot out two projecting headlands,
forming smaller harbors within the Great Port. The most northerly of
these strips of land was defended by the Castle of St. Angelo, round
which clustered a little town, called by way of eminence _Il Borgo_,
"The Burgh,"--now more proudly styled "The Victorious City." It was here
that the order took up its residence,--the grand-masters establishing
themselves in the castle; and great pains were taken to put the latter
in a good state of defence, while the town was protected by a wall. On
the parallel strip of land, known as the island of La Sangle, from a
grand-master of that name, stood a fort, called the fort of St. Michael,
with a straggling population gathered around it, now busily employed in
strengthening the defences. Between the two headlands lay the Port of
Galleys, serving, as its name imports, as a haven for the little navy of
the order. This port was made more secure by an iron chain drawn across
its entrance, from the extreme point of one headland to the other.
Such were the works constructed by the knights in the brief period
during which they had occupied the island. They were so far imperfect,
that many a commanding eminence, which the security of the country
required to be strongly fortified, still remained as naked and exposed
as at the time of their arrival. This imperfect state of its defences
presented a strong contrast to the present condition of Malta, bristling
all over with fortifications, which seem to form part of the living rock
out of which they spring, and which, in the hands of a power that holds
possession of the sea, might bid defiance to the world.
The whole force which La Valette could muster in defence of the island
amounted to about nine thousand men. This included seven hundred
knights, of whom about six hundred had already arrived. The remainder
were on their way, and joined him at a later period of the siege.
Between three and four thousand were Maltese, irregularly trained, but
who had already gained some experience of war in their contests with the
Barbary corsairs. The rest of the army, with the exception of five
hundred galley slaves, already noticed, and the personal followers of
the knights, was made up of levies from Spain and Italy, who had come
over to aid in the defence. The useless part of the population--the
infirm and the aged--had for the most part been shipped off to Sicily.
There still remained, however, numbers of women and children; and the
former, displaying the heroic constancy which, in times of trouble, so
often distinguishes the sex, did good service during the siege, by
tending the sick and by cheering the flagging spirits of the
soldier.[1301]
This little army La Valette distributed on the several stations,
assigning each to some one of the _languages_, or nations, that the
spirit of emulation might work its effects on the chivalry of the order.
The castle of St. Elmo was the point of first importance. It covered so
contracted a piece of ground, that it scarcely afforded accommodation
for a thousand men; and not more than eight hundred were shut up within
its walls at the commencement of the siege.[1302] Its dimensions did not
admit of its being provided with magazines capable of holding any large
quantity of provisions, or military stores, for which it was
unfortunately obliged to rely on its communication with Il Borgo, the
town across the harbor. The masonry of the fort was not in the best
repute: though the works were lined with at least thirty pieces of
artillery, looking chiefly towards the land. Its garrison, which usually
amounted to sixty soldiers, was under the command of an aged knight,
named De Broglio. The grand-master reinforced this body with sixty
knights under the bailiff of Negropont, a veteran in whose well-tried
valor La Valette placed entire confidence. He was strengthened by two
companies of foreign levies, under the command of a Spanish cavalier
named La Cerda.[1303]
Various other points were held by small detachments, with some one of
the order at the head of each. But the strength of the force, including
nearly all the remainder of the knights, was posted in the castle of St.
Angelo and in the town at its base. Here La Valette took his own
station, as the spot which, by its central position, would enable him to
watch over the interests of the whole. All was bustle in this quarter,
as the people were busily employed in strengthening the defences of the
town, and in razing buildings in the suburbs, which the grand-master
feared might afford a lodgement to the enemy. In this work their labors
were aided by a thousand slaves, taken from the prison, and chained
together in couples.[1304]
[Sidenote: ARRIVAL OF THE TURKS.]
On the morning of the eighteenth of May, 1565, the Turkish fleet was
descried by the sentinels of St. Elmo and St. Angelo, about thirty miles
to the eastward, standing directly for Malta. A gun, the signal agreed
on, was fired from each of the forts, to warn the inhabitants of the
country to withdraw into their villages. The fleet amounted to one
hundred and thirty royal galleys with fifty of lesser size, besides a
number of transports with the cannon, ammunition, and other military
stores.[1305] The breaching artillery consisted of sixty-three guns, the
smallest of which threw a ball of fifty-six pounds, and some few, termed
_basilicas_, carried marble bullets of a hundred and twelve pounds'
weight.[1306] The Turks were celebrated for the enormous calibre of
their guns, from a very early period; and they continued to employ those
pieces long after they had given way, in the rest of Europe, to cannon
of more moderate and manageable dimensions.
The number of soldiers on board, independently of the mariners, and
including six thousand janizaries, was about thirty thousand,--the
flower of the Ottoman army.[1307] Their appointments were on the most
perfect scale, and everything was provided requisite for the prosecution
of the siege. Never, probably, had there been so magnificent an armament
in the waters of the Mediterranean. It was evident that Solyman was bent
on the extermination of the order which he had once driven into exile,
but which had now renewed its strength, and become the most formidable
enemy of the Crescent.
The command of the expedition was intrusted to two officers. One of
these, Piali, was the same admiral who defeated the Spaniards at Gelves.
He had the direction of the naval operations. The land forces were given
to Mustapha, a veteran nearly seventy years of age, whose great
experience, combined with military talents of a high order, had raised
him to the head of his profession. Unfortunately, his merits as an
officer were tarnished by his cruelty. Besides the command of the army,
he had a general authority over the whole expedition, which excited the
jealousy of Piali, who thought himself injured by the preference given
to his rival. Thus feelings of mutual distrust arose in the bosoms of
the two chiefs, which to some extent paralyzed the operations of each.
The Turkish armada steered for the south-eastern quarter of the island,
and cast anchor in the port of St. Thomas. The troops speedily
disembarked, and spread themselves in detached bodies over the land,
devastating the country, and falling on all stragglers whom they met in
the fields. Mustapha, with the main body of the army, marching a short
distance into the interior, occupied a rising ground, only a few miles
from Il Borgo. It was with difficulty that the inhabitants could be
prevented from issuing from the gates, in order to gaze on the show
presented by the invaders, whose magnificent array stretched far beyond
the hills, with their bright arms and banners glittering in the sun, and
their warlike music breathing forth notes of defiance to the Christians.
La Valette, in his turn, caused the standard of St. John to be unfurled
from the ramparts of the castle, and his trumpets to answer in a similar
strain of defiance to that of the enemy.[1308]
Meanwhile the grand marshal, Coppier, had sallied from the town at the
head of a small troop, and fallen upon some of the detachments which
were scouring the country. The success of his arms was shown by the gory
heads of the slaughtered Turks, which he sent back to Il Borgo as the
trophies of victory.[1309] La Valette's design, in permitting these
encounters, was to familiarize his men with the novel aspect and
peculiar weapons of their enemies, as well as with the fierce war-cries
which the Turks raised in battle. But the advantages gained in these
skirmishes did not compensate the losses, however light, on the part of
the Christians; and after two knights and a number of the common file
had been slain, the grand-master ordered his followers to remain quietly
within the walls of the town.
It was decided, in the Turkish council of war, to begin operations with
the siege of the castle of St. Elmo; as the possession of this place was
necessary to secure a safe harbor for the Turkish fleet. On the
twenty-fourth of May, the trenches were opened, if that can be said
where, from the rocky, impenetrable nature of the ground, no trenches
could be dug, and the besiegers were obliged to shelter themselves
behind a breastwork formed of planks, having the space between them
filled with earth brought from a distance, and held together by straw
and rushes. At certain intervals Mustapha indicated the points for
batteries. The principal of these was a battery where ten guns were
mounted, some of them of the largest calibre; and although artillery
practice was very different from what it is in our times, with so much
greater experience and more manageable engines, yet masonry stronger
than that of St. Elmo might well have crumbled under the masses of stone
and iron that were now hurled against it.
As the works began to give way, it seemed evident that the garrison must
rely more on their own strength than on that of their defences. It was
resolved, therefore, to send to the grand-master and request
reinforcements. The Chevalier de la Cerda was intrusted with the
mission. Crossing over to Il Borgo, he presented himself before La
Valette, and insisted on the necessity of further support if the fort
was to be maintained against the infidel. The grand-master listened,
with a displeasure which he could not conceal, to this application for
aid so early in the siege; especially as it was made in the presence of
many of the knights, who might well be disheartened by it. He coldly
asked La Cerda what loss the garrison had suffered. The knight, evading
the question, replied, that St. Elmo was in the condition of a sick man
who requires the aid of the physician. "I will be the physician," said
La Valette, "and will bring such aid that, if I cannot cure your fears,
I may at least hope to save the place from falling into the hands of the
enemy." So impressed was he with the importance of maintaining this post
to the last extremity, if it were only to gain time for the Sicilian
succors, that he was prepared, as he said, to throw himself into the
fortress, and, if need were, to bury himself in its ruins.
[Sidenote: OPERATIONS AGAINST ST. ELMO.]
From this desperate resolution he was dissuaded by the unanimous voice
of the knights, who represented to him that it was not the duty of the
commander-in-chief to expose himself like a common soldier, and take his
place in the forlorn hope. The grand-master saw the justice of these
remonstrances; and, as the knights contended with one another for the
honor of assuming the post of danger, he allowed fifty of the order,
together with two companies of soldiers, to return with La Cerda to the
fort. The reinforcement was placed under command of the Chevalier de
Medran, a gallant soldier, on whose constancy and courage La Valette
knew he could rely. Before its departure, the strength of the force was
increased by the arrival of several knights from Sicily, who obtained
the grand-master's leave to share the fortunes of their brethren in St.
Elmo. The troops were sent across the harbor, together with supplies of
food and ammunition, in open boats, under cover of a heavy fire from the
guns of St. Angelo. A shot happened to fall on a stone near the
trenches, in which Piali, the Turkish admiral, was standing; and, a
splinter striking him on the head, he was severely, though not mortally
wounded. La Valette took advantage of the confusion created by this
incident to despatch a galley to Sicily, to quicken the operations of
the viceroy, and obtain from him the promised succors. To this Don
Garcia de Toledo replied by an assurance that he should come to his
relief by the middle of June.[1310]
It was now the beginning of that month. Scarcely had De Medran entered
St. Elmo, when he headed a sally against the Turks, slew many in the
trenches, and put the remainder to flight. But they soon returned in
such overwhelming force as compelled the Christians to retreat and take
refuge within their works. Unfortunately, the smoke of the musketry,
borne along by a southerly breeze, drifted in the direction of the
castle; and under cover of it, the Turks succeeded in getting possession
of the counterscarp. As the smoke cleared away, the garrison were
greatly dismayed at seeing the Moslem standard planted on their own
defences. It was in vain they made every effort to recover them. The
assailants, speedily intrenching themselves behind a parapet formed of
gabions, fascines, and wool-sacks, established a permanent lodgement on
the counterscarp.
From this point, they kept up a lively discharge of musketry on the
ravelin, killing such of its defenders as ventured to show themselves.
An untoward event soon put them in possession of the ravelin itself. A
Turkish engineer, reconnoitring that outwork from the counterscarp, is
said to have perceived a sentinel asleep on his post. He gave notice to
his countrymen; and a party of janizaries succeeded, by means of their
ladders, in scaling the walls of the ravelin. The guard, though few in
number and taken by surprise, still endeavored to maintain the place. A
sharp skirmish ensued. But the Turks, speedily reinforced by their
comrades, who flocked to their support, overpowered the Christians, and
forced them to give way. Some few succeeded in effecting their retreat
into the castle. The janizaries followed close on the fugitives. For a
moment it seemed as if Moslem and Christian would both be hurried along
by the tide of battle into the fort itself. But fortunately the bailiff
of Negropont, De Medran, and some other cavaliers, heading their
followers, threw themselves on the enemy, and checked the pursuit. A
desperate struggle ensued, in which science was of no avail, and victory
waited on the strongest. In the end the janizaries were forced to
retreat in their turn. Every inch of ground was contested; until the
Turks, pressed hard by their adversaries, fell back into the ravelin,
where, with the aid of their comrades, they made a resolute stand
against the Christians. Two cannon of the fortress were now brought to
bear on the outwork. But, though their volleys told with murderous
effect, the Turks threw themselves into the midst of the fire, and
fearlessly toiled, until, by means of gabions, sand-bags, and other
materials, they had built up a parapet which secured them from
annoyance. All further contest was rendered useless; and the knights,
abandoning this important outwork to the assailants, sullenly withdrew
into the fortress.[1311]
While this was going on, a fresh body of Turks, bursting into the ditch,
through a breach in the counterscarp, endeavored to carry the fortress
by escalade. Fortunately, their ladders were too short; and the
garrison, plying them with volleys of musketry, poured down, at the same
time, such a torrent of missiles on their heads as soon strewed the
ditch with mangled limbs and carcasses. At this moment a party, sallying
from the fort, fell on the enemy with great slaughter, and drove
them--such as were in condition to fly--back into their trenches.
The engagement, brought on, as we have seen, by accident, lasted several
hours. The loss of the Turks greatly exceeded that of the garrison,
which amounted to less than a hundred men, twenty of whom were members
of the order. But the greatest loss of the besieged was that of the
counterscarp and ravelin. Thus shorn of its outworks, the castle of St.
Elmo stood like some bare and solitary trunk exposed to all the fury of
the tempest.[1312]
The loss of the ravelin gave the deepest concern to La Valette, which
was not mitigated by the consideration that it was to be charged, in
part at least, on the negligence of its defenders. It made him the more
solicitous to provide for the security of the castle; and he sent his
boats over to remove the wounded, and replace them by an equal number of
able-bodied knights and soldiers. It was his intention that the garrison
should not be encumbered with any who were unable to assist in the
defence. Among the new recruits was the Chevalier de Miranda,--one of
the most illustrious members of the order, who had lately arrived from
Sicily,--a soldier whose personal authority, combined with great
military knowledge, proved eminently useful to the garrison.
The loss which the besiegers had sustained in the late encounter was
more than counterbalanced by the arrival, at this time, of Dragut, the
famous pasha of Tripoli, with thirteen Moorish galleys. He was welcomed
by salvos of artillery and the general rejoicing of the army; and this
not so much on account of the reinforcement which he brought--the want
of which was not then felt--as of his reputation; for he was no less
celebrated as an engineer than as a naval commander. The sultan, who had
the highest opinion of his merits, had ordered his generals to show him
the greatest deference; and they, at once, advised with him as to the
best means of prosecuting the siege. The effect of his counsel was soon
seen in the more judicious and efficient measures that were adopted. A
battery of four culverins was established on the western headland
commanding the entrance of Port Musiette. It was designed to operate on
the western flank of the fortress; and the point of land on which it
stood is still known by the name of the redoubtable corsair.
Another battery, much more formidable from the number and size of the
pieces, was raised on an eminence to the south of St. Elmo, and played
both upon that fort and upon the castle of St. Angelo. The counterscarp
of the former fortress was shaved away, so as to allow a free range to
the artillery of the besiegers;[1313] and two cannon were planted on the
ravelin, which directed a searching fire on the interior of the
fortress, compelling the garrison to shelter themselves behind
retrenchments constructed under the direction of Miranda.[1314]
[Sidenote: HEROIC DEFENCE OF ST. ELMO.]
The artillery of the Turks now opened with dreadful effect, as they
concentrated their fire on the naked walls of St. Elmo. No masonry could
long withstand the tempest of iron and ponderous marble shot which was
hurled from the gigantic engines of the besiegers. Fragments of the wall
fell off as if it had been made of plaster; and St. Elmo trembled to its
foundations under the thunders of the terrible ordnance. The heart of
the stoutest warrior might well have faltered as he saw the rents each
day growing wider and wider, as if gaping to give entrance to the fierce
multitude that was swarming at the gates.
In this extremity, with the garrison wasted by the constant firing of
the enemy, worn down by excessive toil, many of the knights wounded, all
of them harassed by long-protracted vigils, it was natural that the
greater part should feel that they had done all that duty required of
them, and that, without loss of honor, they might retire from a post
that was no longer tenable. They accordingly resolved to apply to the
grand-master to send his boats at once to transport them and the rest of
the garrison to Il Borgo. The person whom they chose for the mission was
the Chevalier de Medran, who, as La Valette would know, was not likely
to exaggerate the difficulties of their situation.
De Medran accordingly crossed the harbor, and, in an interview with the
grand-master, explained the purpose of his visit. He spoke of the
dilapidated state of the fortifications, and dwelt on the forlorn
condition of the garrison, which was only to be sustained by constant
reinforcements from Il Borgo. But this was merely another mode of
consuming the strength of the order. It would be better, therefore,
instead of prolonging a desperate defence, which must end in the ruin of
the defenders, to remove them at once to the town, where they could make
common cause with their brethren against the enemy.
La Valette listened attentively to De Medran's arguments, which were
well deserving of consideration. But, as the affair was of the last
importance to the interests of his little community, he chose to lay it
before the council of _Grand Crosses_,--men who filled the highest
stations in the order. They were unanimously of the same opinion as De
Medran. Not so was La Valette. He felt that with the maintenance of St.
Elmo was connected the very existence of the order. The viceroy of
Sicily, he told his brethren, had declared that, if this strong post
were in the hands of the enemy, he would not hazard his master's fleet
there to save the island. And, next to their own good swords, it was on
the Sicilian succors that they must rely. The knights must maintain the
post at all hazards. The viceroy could not abandon them in their need.
He himself would not desert, them. He would keep them well supplied with
whatever was required for their defence; and, if necessary, would go
over and take the command in person, and make good the place against the
infidel, or die in the breach.
The elder knights, on learning the grand-master's decision, declared
their resolution to abide by it. They knew how lightly he held his life
in comparison with the cause to which it was consecrated; and they
avowed their determination to shed the last drop of their blood in
defence of the post intrusted to them. The younger brethren were not so
easily reconciled to the decision of their superiors. To remain there
longer was a wanton sacrifice of life, they said. They were penned up
in the fort, like sheep, tamely waiting to be devoured by the fierce
wolves that were thirsting for their blood. This they could not endure;
and, if the grand-master did not send to take them off at once, they
would sally out against the enemy, and find an honorable death on the
field of battle. A letter signed by fifty of the knights, expressing
their determination, was accordingly despatched by one of their number
to Il Borgo.
La Valette received the communication with feelings in which sorrow was
mingled with indignation. It was not enough, he said, for them to die
the honorable death which they so much coveted. They must die in the
manner he prescribed. They were bound to obey his commands. He reminded
them of the vows taken at the time of their profession, and the
obligation of every loyal knight to sacrifice his life, if necessary,
for the good of the order. Nor would they gain anything, he added, by
abandoning their post and returning to the town. The Turkish army would
soon be at its gates, and the viceroy of Sicily would leave them to
their fate.
That he might not appear, however, to pass too lightly by their
remonstrances, La Valette determined to send three commissioners to
inspect St. Elmo, and report on its condition. This would at least have
the advantage of gaining time, when every hour gained was of importance.
He also sent to Sicily to remonstrate on the tardiness of the viceroy's
movements, and to urge the necessity of immediate succors if he would
save the castle.
The commissioners were received with joy by the refractory knights, whom
they found so intent on their departure that they were already beginning
to throw the shot into the wells, to prevent its falling into the hands
of the Turks. They eagerly showed the commissioners every part of the
works, the ruinous condition of which, indeed, spoke more forcibly than
the murmurs of the garrison. Two of the body adopted the views of the
disaffected party, and pronounced the fort no longer tenable. But the
third, an Italian cavalier, named Castriot, was of a different way of
thinking. The fortifications, he admitted, were in a bad state; but it
was far from a desperate one. With fresh troops and the materials that
could be furnished from the town, they might soon be put in condition to
hold out for some time longer. Such an opinion, so boldly avowed, in
opposition to the complaints of the knights, touched their honor. A hot
dispute arose between the parties; and evil consequences might have
ensued, had not the commander, De Broglio, and the bailiff of Negropont,
to stop the tumult, caused the alarm-bell to be rung, which sent every
knight to his post.
Castriot, on his return, made a similar report to the grand-master, and
boldly offered to make good his words. If La Valette would allow him to
muster a force, he would pass over to St. Elmo, and put it in condition
still to hold out against the Ottoman arms.
La Valette readily assented to a proposal which he may perhaps have
originally suggested. No compulsion was to be used in a service of so
much danger. But volunteers speedily came forward, knights, soldiers,
and inhabitants of both town and country. The only difficulty was in
making the selection. All eagerly contended for the glory of being
enrolled in this little band of heroes.
[Sidenote: HEROIC DEFENCE OF ST. ELMO.]
La Valette was cheered by the exhibition of this generous spirit in his
followers. It gave assurance of success stronger than was to be derived
from any foreign aid. He wrote at once to the discontented knights in
St. Elmo, and informed them of what had been done. Their petition was
now granted. They should be relieved that very evening. They had only to
resign their posts to their successors. "Return, my brethren," he
concluded, "to the convent. There you will be safe for the present; and
I shall have less apprehension for the fate of the fortress, on which
the preservation of the island so much depends."
The knights, who had received some intimation of the course the affair
was taking in Il Borgo, were greatly disconcerted by it. To surrender to
others the post committed to their own keeping, would be a dishonor they
could not endure. When the letter of the grand-master arrived, their
mortification was extreme; and it was not diminished by the cool and
cutting contempt but thinly veiled under a show of solicitude for their
personal safety. They implored the bailiff of Negropont to write in
their name to La Valette, and beseech him not to subject them to such a
disgrace. They avowed their penitence for the course they had taken, and
only asked that they might now be allowed to give such proofs of
devotion to the cause as should atone for their errors.
The letter was despatched by a swimmer across the harbor. But the
grand-master coldly answered, that veterans without subordination were
in his eyes of less worth than raw recruits who submitted to discipline.
The wretchedness of the knights at this repulse was unspeakable; for in
their eyes dishonor was far worse than death. In their extremity they
addressed themselves again to La Valette, renewing their protestations
of sorrow for the past, and in humble terms requesting his forgiveness.
The chief felt that he had pushed the matter far enough. It was perhaps
the point to which he had intended to bring it. It would not be well to
drive his followers to despair. He felt now they might be trusted. He
accordingly dismissed the levies, retaining only a part of these brave
men to reinforce the garrison; and with them he sent supplies of
ammunition, and materials for repairing the battered works.[1315]