The Christian host prolonged the festival of the Nativity from day to
day, until the mustering forces of the Ottomans summoned them from
dangerous inactivity again to the march and the battle. The latter
they found at Mount Cunobizza, where the enemy had massed an enormous
force. The Christian army, with its splendid corps of Hungary, Poland,
Bosnia, Servia, Wallachia, Italy and Germany, was not a more
magnificent array than that of their Moslem opponents. For the most
part of the day the field was equally held, but in the afternoon the
Turkish left seemed to have become inspired with a strange fury. The
Janizaries, at the time renowned as the best disciplined and most
desperate foot-soldiers in the world, were rivalled in celerity and
intrepidity, in skilful manoeuvring and the tremendous momentum
with which they struck the foe, by other Moslem corps; such as the
squadrons of cavalry collected from distant military provinces, each
under its Spahi or fief-holder; and the irregular Bashi-Bazouks, who
seemed to have sprung from the ground in orderly array. Their diverse
accoutrements, complexions, and movements suggested the hundred arms
of some martial Briareus, all animated by a single brain. The war cry
of "The Prophet!" was mingled with that of "Iscanderbeg!" In the
thickest of the fight appeared the gigantic form of the circumcised
Albanian, his gaudy armor flashing with jewels,[17] his right arm
bared to the shoulder, his cimeter glancing as the lightning. The
Italian legions opposite him, upon the Christian left, were hurled
back again and again from their onslaught, and were pressed mile after
mile from the original battle site. Hunyades inflicted a compensatory
punishment upon the Moslem left, shattering its depleted ranks as a
battering ram crashes through the tottering walls of a citadel. The
chief of the Christians saw clearly Scanderbeg's plan[18] to leave the
victory in his hands, and at the opportune moment he wheeled his
squadrons to the assistance of King Vladislaus, thus combining in
overwhelming odds against the enemy's centre, which Scanderbeg had
effectually drained of its proper strength. As soon, however, as it
was evident that the Christians were the victors, Scanderbeg, by
superb generalship, interposed the Janizaries between the enemy and
the turbaned heads that, but for this, were being whirled in full
flight from the field. The rout was changed into orderly retreat.
Hunyades found it impossible to press the pursuit, and muttered,
"Scanderbeg commands both our armies to-day. We can only take what he
is minded to give."
At length night looked down upon the camps. Few tents were erected.
Hunyades sat for hours beneath a tree, waiting for he knew not what
developments. On the Turkish side even the Beyler Beys, the highest
commanders, were content to stretch their limbs with no other canopy
than the three horse-tails at the spear-head, the symbol of their rank
and authority. Far in the rear were the few pavilions of the suite of
the Grand Vizier, who represented the absent Sultan Amurath. Late into
the night the Vizier sat in counsel with the Sultan's Reis Effendi or
chief secretary, to whom was entrusted the seal of the empire. He was
enstamping the many despatches which fleetest horsemen carried to
distant Spahis, summoning them with their reserves to rally for the
defence of Adrianople.
Just before the dawn the secretary was left alone. Even he, and, in
his person, the empire, must catch an hour's sleep before the exciting
and exacting duties of the new day. He reclined among his papers. But
a summons awakened him: the messenger announcing Scanderbeg. The
guards withdrew to a respectful distance from the outside of the tent.
"Do not rise," said the general, gently pressing the secretary back to
his reclining posture. "I only need the imperial seal to this order."
The secretary scanned the paper with incredulous eyes. It was a
firman, or decree of the Sultan, passing the government of Albania
from General Sebaly to Scanderbeg, with absolute powers, and ordering
the commandant of the strong fortress of Croia to place all its
armament and that of adjacent strongholds in Scanderbeg's hand as the
viceroy of the Sultan. As the secretary lifted his face to utter an
inquiry for the relief of his amazement, knowing that the Sultan, then
absent in Asia, could not have ordered such a document, the strong
hand of Scanderbeg gripped his throat, and his poniard threatened his
heart.
"The mark!" whispered the assailant.
The terrified man tremblingly reached the seal, and pressed it against
the wax. The weapon then did its work, and so suddenly that the
secretary had no time for even an outcry. Then silently, so that the
guards, who were but a few paces distant, heard no commotion, he laid
the lifeless form on the divan, and covered it with the embroidered
cloak it had worn when living.[19]
Passing out, Scanderbeg gave orders that the tent should not be
entered by the guards until morning, that the secretary might rest. He
gave the password, "The Kaaba," as sharply as if his lips would take
vengeance on the once sacred, but now hated sound. His military staff
joined him at a little distance. Vaulting into the saddle he led the
way toward the north. At the edge of the camp by a rude bridge he
halted, and said to his attendants,
"I meet at this point the Beyler Bey of Anatolia, whose staff will be
my escort to his camp. The Padishah's cause needs closest conference
of all the commanders; for treason is abroad. Ah! I hear the escort.
Return to quarters, gentlemen!"
Riding forward alone in the direction of the noise, he cried, "Who
comes?"
"The Kaaba at Mecca," was the response.
"Well, if the Kaaba takes the trouble to come to me it is a good omen,
by the beard of Moses!"
"By the beard of Moses!" murmured a group of horsemen, bowing their
turbaned heads in the first gray light of the approaching day. The
cavalcade closed around the fugitive chieftain, and moved along in
silence, except to respond to the sentinels. As they passed the
extreme picket of the Turks they halted. A wardrobe had been secreted
in a cave beyond a copse near the road. Dismounting, the men exchanged
their turbans for caps of wolf or beaver skin. Their gaily trimmed
jackets, such as were worn by the Turkish foot-soldiers, gave place to
short fur sacks. Their flowing, bag-bottomed trousers were kicked off,
leaving abbreviated breeches of leather. In a few moments the
splendidly uniformed suite of a Moslem bey was transformed into a
rough, but exceedingly unique-looking, band of Albanian guerillas.
Scanderbeg assumed a helmet, the summit of which carried as a device
the head and shoulders of a goat--since the times of Alexander the
Great the symbol of the powers in, or bordering upon, Macedonia. The
Turkish uniforms were bundled upon the cruppers for future use.
The men stood for a moment, each by the side of his horse. At a motion
of the officer in charge they gave the salute; touching their bared
foreheads, and bowing to the ground. The officer then approached
Scanderbeg, and, presenting his sword, said:
"Sire! to thee, as the son of our Duke John, we give our swords
together with our hearts and our lives." Instantly every sword was
laid upon the ground; and the crisp air rattled with the cry, "Long
live Duke George! A Castriot forever!"
Scanderbeg gazed silently for a moment upon the faithful group. There
was no doubt of their loyalty: for they had proved it by an adventure
of rare daring in penetrating the Turkish camp. The face of the great
general, usually masking so completely his strongest feelings, lost
now its rigidity. His eyes were moist; his lips trembled; every
lineament was eloquent with the emotion he could neither conceal nor
tell in words. After a few moments' impressive silence, he returned
the sword to the officer, and, pointing westward, cried,
"Forward to Albania!"
FOOTNOTES:
[17] The old chronicles admit, as one weakness of Scanderbeg, a
fondness for personal decoration.
[18] The author adds these lines to the meagre details of this battle
as known, for the purpose of accounting for its immediate issue, and
for the subsequent events.
[19] Some historians represent Scanderbeg as having had Albanian
accomplices in this murder.