THE VALLEY OF THE LYCUS
The sun is declining towards the west, and the tall cypresses cast
lengthening shadows across our road. We may linger no longer at the Gate
of St. Romanus, for we have much to see before the day draws to a close.
So let us go forward along the road again. Before we leave the shade of
the cypress groves the road begins to descend. Here to our left the
conqueror, Sultan Mahomed, pitched his tent where he could survey the
warlike operations carried on against the city in the valley below. To
our right the moat deepens, and the enormous strength of the position
chosen for the walls of Theodosius becomes more apparent here than
anywhere. Below us lies a deep valley--the valley of the Lycus, the spot
which the genius of Mahomed chose for the final assault upon the city of
Constantine, and here it was that the history of the Byzantine Empire
was brought to an abrupt conclusion.
By the golden light of the afternoon sun this valley
[Illustration: THE VALLEY OF THE LYCUS, LOOKING NORTH.
The road leads up to the ridge on the other side like a white band,
strongly contrasting with the deep tone of the cypresses that crown the
height.]
looks wonderfully peaceful. The road leads up to the ridge on the other
side like a white band, strongly contrasting with the deep tone of the
cypresses that crown the height. Beyond them again you see the further
side of the Golden Horn, serene and beautiful, while a faint haze rising
from the water speaks of industry, and shimmers in the last rays of the
sun. We enter the Gate of St. Romanus for a minute and note the strength
of the remaining towers of the inner hall. A few steps further, turning
to the left, gives us a comprehensive view of that historic spot, the
valley of the Lycus, seen from within the walls. At our feet down in the
valley, clusters of little wooden houses cling to the old walls and are
shaded by acacia-trees. This is a Bohemian settlement, where you may see
women unveiled and dressed in tattered garments of bright colours, and
little brown children wearing nothing but a coat of dust acquired in
their researches on the road.
To the left the massive inner wall descends and shows a forest of
cypress-trees upon the northern bank of the Lycus. The wall rises again
and reaches the highest ground covered by the fortifications of
Theodosius. Here stands the Mosque of Mihrimah upon the site of a church
dedicated to St. George. But that chaotic mass of ruin at our feet has
yet a stormy tale to tell, so we descend into the valley of the Lycus.
The memories of those last years of the Byzantine Empire, of the days
when the proud towers and stout walls of Theodosius tottered and fell
before the black powder invented by a German monk but used by a ruthless
Eastern warrior with such disastrous effect, hang so thick that former
events are almost lost in obscurity.
Before the city extended as far as these walls, and ere there was
occasion for them, the valley of the Lycus was a pleasant place to see.
The stream had not sunk into insignificance, but still watered fair
meadows. Here 3000 white-robed catechumens were assembled one Easter
morn awaiting baptism at the hands of St. John Chrysostom. As we have
already heard, he had just been deprived of his high office by the
intrigue of the Empress Eudoxia. Yet he meant to perform the ceremony,
and would have done so but for Arcadius, who happened to pass that way
and ordered his guard of Goths to disperse the crowd.
Then some years later, when these proud walls were newly built, their
founder, Theodosius II, rode down from the heights without the walls. He
fell from his horse and died a few days later from the injury caused to
his spine.
Let us now turn to the history of that race that overthrew the last
remains of the Roman power. The race
[Illustration: THE VALLEY OF THE LYCUS, FROM INSIDE THE WALLS.
Before the city extended as far as these walls, and ere there was
occasion for them, the Valley of the Lycus was a pleasant place to
see.]
that in this valley wrested the ancient bulwark of Europe from the weak
hands of the last Byzantine Emperor--the Turks. To do this we must go
back into the records of the sixth century and notice the state of Asia
and its relation to Europe at that time.
In the sixth century there appeared out of the East a race destined to
overthrow Byzantine civilization and Persian splendour, a power destined
to stretch its conquering arms from the Euphrates to the Pyrenees, and
from the Red to the Black Sea. The nomad races of Arabia had never
played an important part in the history of the world. They lived a
patriarchal existence in their rocky fastnesses or desolate plains.
Their system did not encourage national unity, concentration of strength
on consolidation of resources. They had never engaged in agriculture nor
practised any handicraft; their sole employments were the chase and the
care of sheep and goats. It seemed that these dwellers in tents would
never know anything better than the nomadic life. But a great force
arose which united the groups of tribes into a nation--Mahomed the
prophet--and having conquered and converted to his faith the whole
Arabian peninsula, made ready with the forces under his control to
spread his creed into all lands.
Mahomed's general, Khaled, called the "Sword of God," in a very short
time after the prophet's death subdued the Persian army and gained its
empire for his master, the Caliph Abu Bekr, Mahomed's successor as
Commander of the Faithful. In the same reign Syria was conquered from
Heraclius, Ecbatana and Damascus became Mahomedan towns like Mecca and
Medina. Amron the general of Omar, the third Caliph, added Egypt to the
new Empire, and in less than eighty years the Arabs had conquered every
foe they encountered. But their power fell as quickly as it had risen.
The Empire was divided into independent Caliphates, Spain, Egypt and
Africa, but with the fate of these the traveller is well acquainted.
Damascus became the capital of Calipha, and legend and history make much
mention of the men who ruled there: Haroun-al-Rashid, the contemporary
of Charlemagne, Al-Mamoon and others of his line. But the days of the
Arab Empire were numbered, another race appeared in Asia Minor, coming
from their hunting-grounds in Tartary--the Turks.
The origin of this newly-arrived people is obscure--they are said to
claim descent from Japhet, and no doubt he will serve the purpose as
well as any other of the sons of Noah. An English historian of the
seventeenth century (Knolles) took sufficient interest in the Turks to
write their history, and he begins with these remarks: "The glorious
empire of the Turks, the present terrour of the world, hath amongst
other things nothing in it more wonderful or strange than the poor
beginning of itselfe, so small and obscure as that it is not well knowne
unto themselves, or agreed upon even among the best writers of their
histories; from whence this barbarous nation that now so triumpheth over
the best part of the world, first crept out or took their beginning.
Some (after the manner of most nations) derive them from the Trojans,
led thereunto by the affinity of the word Turci and Teucri; supposing
(but with what probability I know not) the word Turci, or Turks, to have
been made of the corruption of the word Teucri, the common name of the
Trojans."
The "Ten Tribes" have also been called upon to act as ancestry to the
Turkish nation, but have not as yet responded to the call. It is to be
presumed that the Turks are a mixed race, at least a study of the
various and very different types you see leads to that conclusion. At
any rate the Turks were there, there's no denying it, and made their
power felt. From Tartary, where in the fifth century Bertezena
established a short-lived Turkish Empire, this race spread in successive
waves over the whole of Asia. One wave overran China, which remained for
two hundred years under the Tartar sway. Another wave achieved the
conquest of Bokhara and Samarkand, and gradually drew nearer to the
western part of Asia, where they first heard of the splendours of the
Empire of Constantinople. In the sixth century they sent an ambassador
to Justinian, entered into alliance with him, and engaged to rout the
Abari and protect the frontiers of the Empire from their inroads. They
also defended it against the Persians, and defeated them on the Oxus.
By degrees they became formidable to the Eastern Empire, but their
progress was checked by the Arabs, who in the eighth century overran
their country and compelled them to embrace the Mahomedan faith. Soon
the young race recovered its strength, and came to the assistance of the
Caliph Motassem, whose nation was then on the down grade, and no longer
supplied the men whose victorious arms had carried the Crescent
triumphant to so many countries. Fifty thousand Turkish mercenaries were
taken into the service of the Caliph, and, like the Prætorian Cohort of
Rome, the Janissaries of Constantinople and the Mamelukes of Egypt, they
in time assumed decisive voice in the Government.
A Turkish dynasty, that of the Samanians, ruled over most of the
territories formerly possessed by the Arab Caliphs. Of this, Mahmud was
the most famous; in the twelfth century he conquered Delhi, Multan and
Lahore, and his victorious career was only checked by the waters of the
Ganges; he was the first to bear the title of Sultan.
Another Turkish dynasty, the house of Seljuk, sprang up and dispossessed
both Sultan and Caliph of the territories they had obtained. The
dominions thus acquired were increased until the greater part of Asia
Minor had gone to form the Turkish Empire. The city of Nice was captured
to become the Turkish capital, and the Eastern Emperor Alexander
Comnenus was forced to acknowledge Suleiman as master of Asia Minor.
But reverses were in store for the young Empire of the Turks; the
Eastern Emperor gathered together an immense army of Macedonians,
Bulgarians and Moldavians. He solicited the aid of the Crusaders, and
bands of French and Norman knights, headed by Ursel Baliol, whom Gibbon
calls "the kinsman," or "father of the Scottish Kings." The Turks were
everywhere defeated. Nice and the western portions of Asia Minor were
regained, and Iconium became the Turkish capital. Yet more trouble came
to the house of Seljuk, and this time from the East, where Jenghiz Jehan
with his fierce Mongols was abroad, under whose attacks the dynasty of
Seljuk fell.
The bearer of a romantic name, and one known to all true Moslems, now
appears upon the scene. Ertoghrul, the son of Suleiman, who had been
accidentally drowned in the Euphrates, was marching with a portion of
his tribe, 444 horsemen, who chose him for their leader, towards
Iconium, the Seljukian kingdom. He accidentally met the forces of
Ala-ed-din flying before a host of Mongols. Joining forces with the
Sultan he changed the fortunes of the day and routed the enemy. The
grateful Sultan rewarded him with the Principality of Sultan Oeni or
Sultan's Front, on the western border of the Iconian kingdom. Here
Ertoghrul settled as Warden of the Marches.
In his new office Ertoghrul enhanced the reputation he had already
earned as faithful vassal of the Sultan. He carried his victorious arms
further afield, and at Broussa defeated the combined forces of Greeks
and Mongols. The territory he had thus gained was conferred upon him,
his power grew, and with it that of his race; he died in 1288, and
Othman, his son, was chosen as his successor.
This, the progenitor of those who in unbroken succession have ruled over
the destinies of the Turkish Empire, and whose descendant occupies the
throne of the Eastern Empire to-day, was twenty-four years old when he
succeeded to the government of his tribe.
To great strength and beauty (he was called Kara, from the jet-black
colour of his hair and beard) he added courage and energy; and, like all
great conquerors, had the gift of reading the characters of men. This
enabled him to make wise and fortunate selections of those whom he
employed to carry out his designs.
Othman's long and prosperous reign laid the foundation of the present
Turkish Empire. His campaigns were victorious, the territory of
neighbouring Turkish tribes was incorporated in his dominions, and the
Greek Empire was forced to contribute to the aggrandizement of his
realm.
During an interval of peace, from 1291 to 1298, Othman devoted his
energies to the internal government of his dominions and became famous
for the toleration which he exercised towards his Christian subjects.
Not till the death of Ala-ed-din, the Seljukian Sultan, did Othman
declare himself independent. He did not even then assume the full title
of sultan or emperor, but with his two next successors reigned only as
emirs or governors.
When, after several years of peace, Othman had consolidated his
resources, he went to war again, and in order to give his followers
greater zest and increase their zeal, proclaimed himself the chosen
defender of the Moslem faith and declared that he had a direct mission
from Heaven. He thus infected them with a fanaticism to the full as
fierce and effective as that which had urged Mahomed's hordes on their
career of conquest. The only evil deed which may be attributed to this
great ruler was committed in a fit of rage. His venerable uncle Dundar,
who, seventy years before, had been one of the four hundred and
forty-four horsemen who followed the banner of Ertoghrul, endeavoured to
dissuade him from an attempt on the Greek fortress of Koepri Hissar.
Othman, observing that some of his officers agreed with Dundar, raised
his bow and shot his uncle dead. Thus the commencement of Ottoman sway
was marked by the murder of an uncle, even as the foundation of Rome
began with fratricide.
Koepri Hissar fell before Othman's fanatic onslaught at Houyon Hissar,
where he for the first time encountered a regular Greek army in the
field. Again he conquered. In the beginning of the fourteenth century
Othman fought his way to the Black Sea, leaving behind him several towns
unsubdued, amongst these Broussa. Othman's body was failing fast from
old age, and he had to send his son Orchan against a Mongolian army,
which the Greek Emperor, unable to stem the tide of Turkish conquest,
had incited to attack the enemy's southern frontier. Orchan beat them,
then returned to besiege Broussa, and in 1326 took it.
Othman only survived to hear the joyful news. Bestowing his blessing on
his son, he said: "My son, I am dying, and I die without regret, because
I leave such a good successor as thou. Be just, love goodness and show
mercy. Give the same protection to all thy subjects, and extend the
faith of the prophet." Orchan buried his father at Broussa, and erected
a splendid mausoleum over his remains. Acting on his father's advice he
made Broussa his capital, and it remained so until the fall of
Constantine's city. The standard and scimitar of Othman are still
preserved as objects of veneration. As we have said before, the sword of
Othman is girded on each succeeding Sultan amid the prayers of his
people: "May he be as good as Othman."
The romantic history of the kingdom built up by Othman was worthily
continued by his sons. Orchan was proclaimed Emir and urged his brother
to share the throne. But Ala-ed-din declined, asking only the revenues
of a single village for his maintenance. Orchan then said, "Since,
brother, you will not accept the flocks and herds I offer you, be the
shepherd of my people--be my Vizier." And so this high office was
instituted. Ala-ed-din devoted himself to the domestic policy of the
State and undertook the first steps towards military organization. The
troops that had followed Othman to victory were the same men who fed the
flocks on the banks of the Euphrates and Sakaria. They formed loose
squadrons of irregular cavalry, and after the war returned to their
peaceful avocation and, in the main, the mass of the nation continued to
be the source whence in the time of war the Ottoman troops were drawn.
But Ala-ed-din saw the need of a standing army who should make war their
sole business and profession, and first raised a body of infantry called
Jaza or Piade. The next corps raised were the famous Janissaries. They
were entirely composed of Christian children taken in battle or in
sieges and compelled to embrace the Mahomedan faith. A thousand recruits
were added yearly to their numbers, and they were called Jeni Iskeri, or
new troops, from which is derived the European corruption Janissaries.
These Janissaries were trained to warlike exercises from their youth,
and subjected to the strictest discipline. They were not allowed to form
any territorial connection with the land that had adopted them, their
prospects of advancement depended entirely on their skill in the
profession of arms, and the highest posts in that profession only were
open to them. Their isolated position and the complete community of
interest which united them prevented the degeneracy and enervation which
so speedily settled upon every Eastern Empire when once the fire of
conquest had died down.
Ala-ed-din further extended the military organization of the Othman
crown, and in a manner that rendered the fighting forces readily
adaptable to every exigency. A _corps-d'élite_ was formed of specially
chosen horsemen. These were called Spahis. Then further corps were
organized, the Silihdars, or vassal cavalry; Ouloufedji, or paid
horsemen; Ghoureha, or foreign horse; Azabs, or light infantry; and the
Akindji, or irregular light horse. We have met these latter before, when
describing battles in which Turks and Franks were opposed to each other.
The Akindji gathered together in irregular hordes to accompany every
military enterprise, they foraged for the regular troops and swarmed
round them to cover a retreat or harass a retiring enemy, they received
no pay like the Janissaries nor lands like the Piade, and were entirely
dependent on plunder.
The story of a clever ruse is told of one of Orchan's campaigns against
the Greeks. Othman had left Nice and Nicomedia untaken. Orchan took the
latter town and invested Nice. Andronicus, the Greek Emperor, crossed
the Hellespont with a hastily-raised levy to raise the siege of Nice,
but Orchan met and defeated him with a portion of his army. Now the
garrison of Nice had been advised of the Emperor's intention and daily
expected his arrival. So Orchan disguised 800 of his followers as Greek
soldiers and directed them against the fortress. These pseudo-Greeks, to
give the ruse a yet greater semblance of reality, were harassed by mock
encounters with Turkish regular horse. The disguised Turks appeared to
have routed the enemy, and headed for the city gate. The garrison had
been watching the proceedings, were thoroughly deceived and threw open
the gate. An assault by the besieging army, assisted by the force that
had gained ingress, brought the city into Orchan's possession.
By 1336 Orchan had included all North-Western Asia Minor in the Ottoman
Empire, and the next twenty years of peace he devoted to the work of
perfecting the military organization and consolidating the resources of
his newly-acquired territories; in this his brother Ala-ed-din loyally
supported him. Thus in the middle of the fourteenth century we find two
empires face to face, separated only by the narrow channel of the
Bosphorus. On the Asiatic side the Ottoman Empire, homogeneous, for all
its subjects were of the same race, strong and united; on the other side
the Greek Empire, distracted by constant feud and domestic disturbance.
It is not to be wondered at that under such conditions occasion should
have arisen for Turkish interference in the affairs of the Eastern
Empire, and a feud between the Genoese and the Venetians offered a
suitable excuse.
The Genoese were in possession of Galata; their commercial rivals, the
Venetians, sought them out and attacked them on the Bosphorus. Now
Orchan hated the Venetians, for they had arrogantly refused to receive
an ambassador whom he sent to Venice. The Venetians were the allies of
the Empire, and Orchan had only a few years before married the daughter
of Cantacuzene, the Greek Emperor. Desire to be avenged prompted Orchan
to ally himself with the Genoese, against the Empire and the Venetians.
His son Solyman crossed the Hellespont by night with a handful of
faithful followers and took Koiridocastron, or "Hog's Castle." No
attempt was made to regain the castle, as the Emperor was fully occupied
not only with the armies of his rebel son-in-law Palæologus, but with
the Genoese fleet.
The Greek Emperor found himself in sore straits and implored the aid of
Orchan. This Orchan readily granted and sent ten thousand troops over to
Europe, who, after beating the Slavonic army of Palæologus, did not
return to Asia, but took a firm footing under Solyman, upon the European
mainland. Before long the Turkish Empire had acquired a number of strong
places, and it was evident that they had come to stay.
Soon after these events Solyman, when engaged in his favourite sport of
falconry, was thrown from his horse and killed. He was buried on the
spot at which he had led his soldiers into Europe. His father Orchan
died the same year, after a reign of thirty-five years. We may date the
actual foundation of Turkish greatness in Asia and its effect on the
history of Europe, and more especially of Constantinople, from the reign
of this able and enlightened monarch and his loyal brother Ala-ed-din.
The endless possibilities contained in that strong and single-minded
race of Turks were concentrated on the banks of the Bosphorus, their
advanced guard had crossed into Europe and had there secured a firm
foothold. The Turks were knocking at the gates of Constantinople.
Our travellers have heard already how Amurath I, the youngest son of
Orchan, inherited his father's throne. We have followed Amurath's
romantic career, how he restored the Empire his father left him, after
subduing the Prince of Carmania, who with some other Turkish Emirs rose
against the house of Othman. Amurath's rule was extended yet further in
Europe at the cost of the Greek Empire, and in the middle of the
fourteenth century he made Adrianople his European capital. Under
Amurath the Ottomans first encountered those Slavonic races with whom
they were for centuries after so frequently engaged in hostilities.
Following the fortunes of Amurath, we heard the din of battle when the
Western chivalry was opposed to the dashing valour of the Turk, and saw
the Crescent victorious when the turmoil subsided on the banks of the
Maritza. The warlike host of the Slavonic confederacy passed in pageant
before us, to meet its fate at Kossova, where Amurath, the conqueror,
perished in the fight.
The victorious son of Amurath, Bajazet, who first of the house of Othman
assumed the title of Sultan, has been presented to our travellers. With
those who took their walks on the Atrium down by the Sea of Marmora, we
watched the events that marked the reign of Bajazet and felt the
increasing pressure to which the failing Greek Empire was submitted. If
we wish to gain some idea of the terror that was felt, let us imagine
London slowly isolated by an irresistible host of the Chinese and trying
hard to secure the spiritual sanction and material protection of her old
enemy, the Pope of Rome. We heard the ringing blows dealt by the Turks
as they hammered at the walls of Constantine's city, and breathed again
when Tamerlane and his savage hordes threatened the eastern provinces of
Bajazet's Asiatic Empire. When Bajazet was slain at Angora we saw how
the Imperial City revived, and how hope lingered during the years that
Mahomed I employed in putting his Asiatic house in order. But shortly
after, yet another Amurath appeared in Europe and laid siege to
Constantinople; but the time was not yet come, and he was compelled to
withdraw to his Carmanian frontier. Nevertheless, the Turks were even
then virtual masters of the situation; Thessalonica had fallen, sacked
by Amurath II, and nothing but the Imperial City and a small tract of
country round it was left to the Eastern Empire.
The travellers have witnessed the growth of the city which Byzas
founded, and seen how, according to the utterance of the oracle, it
prospered. They have watched the city expand under the fostering care of
the earlier Emperors, and have noted how the security its walls afforded
led to a mode of life which unfitted the populace for their own defence.
But for the stoutness of these walls the city might have fallen long
before the advent of Mahomed the Conqueror, and Europe therefore is
deeply indebted to these, the monuments of the Theodosian dynasty.
But the day was drawing near when even this massive chain of masonry
should prove of no avail to check the onrush of a vigorous enemy; the
encircling walls and sentinel towers had almost accomplished their task
of ten centuries, and behind them a nervous, faint-hearted populace
awaited the end of all things. What rumours spread throughout the city
of that fiendish invention of the Latins--the black powder. Reports came
in of how that foreign inventor, who had deserted to the Turks on
account of ill-usage by the Greeks, had built a foundry under Mahomed's
eye at Adrianople and cast a cannon of vast destructive power, a cannon
with a bore of twelve palms' breadth, which could contain a charge that
drove a stone ball of six hundred pounds weight a distance of a mile, to
bury it in the ground to the depth of a furlong. Then frenzy seized the
city, and Constantine, the last Emperor of that name, endeavoured to
renew communion between the Greek Church and the See of Rome. So
Cardinal Isidore of Russia entered the city as the legate of Pope
Nicholas V, and with him came a retinue of priests and soldiers. The
union of the Churches was solemnized at St. Sophia, and immediately gave
rise to more disorder in the streets. This was the state of
Constantine's Imperial City when Mahomed II encamped outside the walls
and planted his victorious standard before the Gate of St. Romanus.
Though the walls of the city were stout and true, the power of the
defenders was not equal to that of the hosts arrayed against them. The
store of gunpowder, which by this time had found its way into use in the
Greek army, was not adequate for a protracted siege, and though the
Emperor Constantine comported himself as a hero should, the spirit of
his people had long been divorced from military valour.
The formidable array of Mahomed's army stretched all along the
land-walls, from the Sea of Marmora to the Golden Horn, and, as we have
related, the upper reaches of that harbour were held by the galleys he
had transported overland. In the first days of the siege the Greek
garrison made frequent sorties to destroy the earthworks behind which
the aggressors planned their mines, and made much progress in the art of
countermining. But the serious losses such operations entailed, and the
dwindling store of powder, put an end to these enterprises.
So from April till May of 1453 the siege of Constantinople continued.
The Emperor and his brave ally Giustiniani, commander of a Genoese
contingent, held the foe at bay, and encouraged the defenders by their
example. Engines of war, ancient and modern, the newly-invented cannon,
and the towers of offence well known as far back as the early wars of
Rome, took their places side by side for the first and last time in the
annals of military history.
Let us look down upon the valley of the Lycus, a scene of desolation
to-day, and fill in the gaps that Turkish arms have made. Let us people
the reconstructed bulwarks with defenders, while in the valley below and
on all the ground before the walls swarm the hosts of Mahomed. Here
round the Imperial standard of the Sultan are camped his best troops,
those formidable Janissaries who are kept in leash until the last
decisive charge. Meanwhile, the lighter irregular forces skirmish about
the moat and ramparts. Down in the valley and opposite the fifth
military gate the famous gun is placed--a mighty engine of war for those
early days of artillery; it fired seven times a day, and for its
conveyance a carriage of thirty waggons, drawn by a team of sixty oxen,
was required. Other lighter artillery was placed here, all thundering at
the tower that flanks the military gate to northward. Above the roar of
cannon and the din of battle we may hear the sound of falling masonry,
and when the smoke fades away the ruins of that tower strew the terrace.
All the small towers of the outer wall and their connecting curtains
have been laid low, the _débris_ fills the moat, and every sign points
out that the time for the final assault has arrived.
It is daybreak on May 29, 1453, and we resume our place, looking down
into the valley of the Lycus. The hostile leaders had spent the
preceding night each in a characteristic manner. Mohamed had assembled
his chiefs and issued final orders; he dispatched crowds of dervishes to
visit the tents of his troops to inflame their fanaticism and promise
them great rewards--double pay, captives and spoil, gold and beauty,
while to the first man who should ascend the walls the Sultan pledged
the government of the fairest province of his dominions.
The Emperor Constantine likewise assembled his nobles and the bravest of
his allies; he adjured them to make the most strenuous efforts in the
defence, and to encourage the troops to do their utmost. He had no
rewards to offer, but the example of their Prince infused the courage of
despair into the leaders of his despondent troops. A pathetic scene
this, as described by the historian Phranza, who assisted at it. When
the Emperor had delivered his last speech he and his followers embraced
and wept. Then each went his way, the leaders to hold watch at their
posts, the Emperor to a solemn mass at St. Sophia, where for the last
time in the history of that sacred shrine the mysteries of the Christian
faith were adored by any Christian worshipper.
Constantine then returned to the palace and asked forgiveness of any of
his servants whom he might have wronged. He then rode round the ramparts
to inspect his troops and utter a last word of hope and encouragement.
Without the customary signal of the morning gun the assailants rose with
the sun and dashed in successive waves against the walls of Theodosius.
Time after time they were repulsed. The Sultan on horseback, his iron
mace in his hand, watched the tide that hurled itself against the walls
and towers of Constantinople, to surge back, and again to be reinforced
by others who met the same fate. Around the Sultan ten thousand of his
chosen troops impatiently awaited the signal for attack.
Meanwhile the courage and numbers of the defenders ebbed away.
Giustiniani, wounded in the hand, withdrew, and with him the Genoese. A
rumour spread that the Turks had forced an entrance at the Kerko Porta.
Constantine, who, mounted on a white arab, was directing operations from
the inner terrace by the fifth military gate, dashed along the rampart
to help if help were needed. Indeed the Turks had gained admittance,
but had again been speedily expelled. So Constantine returned the way he
came, and resumed his position by a small postern-gate that gave from
the inner wall on to the terrace by the fifth military gate. When he
arrived there the fighting masses of the Sultan's bodyguard and
Janissaries were surging over the ruins of the outer wall and over the
corpses of their predecessors on to the inner wall. The fury of their
onslaught beat down all resistance, and the numbers of the Christians
were now but one to fifty of the Ottomans. A gigantic Janissary Hassan
was first upon the walls, he and those with him were thrown back; they
charged again, and fell to make way for others. In swarms they came,
those fiery Janissaries, under the weight of whose tumultuous onslaught
the Christian garrison was overpowered. The victorious Turks rushed in
at the breaches in the wall, others had forced the gate of the Phanar on
the Golden Horn, and Constantine's fair city was given over to the
sword.
Thus after a siege of fifty-three days Constantinople fell before the
scimitar of Othman, whose descendant reigns here to this day. And what
of Constantine IX, the last, perhaps the bravest, and certainly the most
unfortunate bearer of an illustrious name? He was seen at his post by
the postern-gate, bearing his part as a soldier in the defence of his
city. He had laid aside the Purple, and the nobles who fought around his
person fell at his feet, until he too was cut down by an unknown hand,
his body buried under a mountain of the slain. We may with Gibbon apply
those noble lines of Dryden--
"As to Sebastian--let them search the field;
And where they find a mountain of the slain,
There they will find him at his manly length,
With his face up to Heaven, in that red monument
Which his good sword had digged."
So, gentle travellers, ere we turn away from this historic spot, let us
stand here a moment, here where the great cannon hurled missiles against
the walls of Theodosius. The Lycus, now an insignificant stream, but yet
so old and memorable in history, trickles away gently towards the ruined
ramparts. It finds ingress under one of the ruined towers to our right.
In front of us rise the remains of those walls that guarded the city
through many centuries. There is the built-up entrance of what was once
the fifth military gate, beside it the jagged ruins of the flanking
tower, the gate of which we witnessed as the drama of the last siege was
played before us. In front and all along to either hand the outer wall
and moat are but a mass of ruins, and from the heights to north and
south those solemn cypresses that guard the graves of the warriors who
fell here, look down upon a scene of desolation. One more look upon the
ruined curtain through which the built-up arch gave ingress to
retreating Greeks and Ottoman assailants on that 29th of May, there in
the angle caused by the wall and its southern flanking tower you may
faintly see the remains of a postern-gate. There fell Constantine, the
last of the Emperors of the East.
[Illustration: THE VALLEY OF THE LYCUS, SHOWING WHERE THE LAST EMPEROR
FELL.
One more look upon the ruined curtain through which the built-up arch
gave ingress to retreating Greeks and Ottoman assailants on that 29th of
May, there in the angle caused by the wall and its southern flanking
tower you may faintly see the remains of a postern-gate. There fell
Constantine, the last of the Emperors of the East.]