The career of Scanderbeg, or Castriot, as the Albanians love to call
their great national hero, makes one of the most illustrious pages in
history, whether we look for the display of personal courage, astute
generalship, or loftiest patriotism. His military renown, already so
wide-spread as the commander of the Turks, became universal through
the almost incredible skill with which, for many years, his handful of
patriots held the mountains of Albania against the countless armies of
the Sultan. His superlative devotion to his country, was maintained
with such sacrifices as few men have ever rendered to the holiest
cause. He resisted the bribes of riches, power and splendor with
which the Sultan, baffled by his arms, attempted to seduce his honor.
These things went far to atone for the treachery of his defection from
the Turkish service.
Upon his arrival in Albania, the citadel of Croia was given into his
hands by the commandant, who was either unsuspicious of the false
order that was sealed by the now dead hand of the Sultan's secretary,
or who had found that the wily Albanians had already access to its
gates. Sfetigrade and other prominent fortresses fell rapidly, won by
strategy or by the valorous assault of the patriots. The Albanians had
been almost instantaneously transformed into an invincible army by the
electric thrill which the coming of Castriot had sent everywhere, from
the borders of Macedonia to the western sea; and by the skill with
which that great captain organized his bands of Epirots and Dibrians.
An army of forty thousand Turks was at one time divided by his
masterly movements, and slain in detail. A second army met a similar
fate. The great Sultan himself attempted the capture of this Arnaout
"wild beast," as he had learned to call him. One hundred and fifty
thousand men, supplied from the far-reaches of Asia where the Ottoman
made most of his levies, swarmed like a plague of locusts through the
valleys of Epirus. By sheer momentum of numbers they pressed their way
up to the fortress of Sfetigrade.
The defence of this place is one of the most heroic in the annals of
war or patriotism. As the glacier melts at the touch of the warm earth
in the Alpine valleys so the mighty army of Amurath dissolved in blood
as it touched the beleaguered walls. At the same time Scanderbeg,
adopting some new expedient in every attack, made his almost nightly
raids through the centre of the Turkish host, like a panther through
the folds of the sheep, until Amurath cried in sheer vexation among
the generals, "Will none of you save us from the fury of that wild
beast?" The incessant slaughter that broke the bewildered silence of
the generals was the only response.
Thus passed some six years since the time when our story opens; years
which, had they stood by themselves, and not been followed by fifteen
years more of equal prowess, would have won for Scanderbeg the
unstinted praise of that distinguished writer who enrolls him among
the seven greatest uncrowned men of the world's history.[46]
During these years Castriot had studied with closest scrutiny the
character of his nephew, Amesa. His natural discernment, aided by his
long observation of human duplicity while among the Turks--and, indeed
by his own experience, as for many years he had masked his own
discontent and ultimate purpose--gave him a power of estimating men
which may be called a moral clairvoyance. He discovered that in his
nephew which led him to credit the story of Kabilovitsch--as the
forester Arnaud was still called, although some more than suspected
his identity. The chief saw clearly that Amesa's loyalty would be
limited by his selfish interests. Those interests now led him to most
faithful and apparently patriotic devotion. Besides, the loss or
alienation of so influential a young voivode, involving a schism in
the house of the Castriots, might be fatal to the Albanian cause. The
general, therefore, fed the ambition of his relative, giving him
honorable command, for which he was well fitted by reason of both
courage and genius. Nor did Amesa disappoint this confidence. His
sword was among the sharpest and his deeds most daring. The peasant
soldiers often said that Amesa was not unworthy the blood of the
Castriots. To Sultan Amurath's proposal of peace on condition of
Scanderbeg's simple recognition of the Ottoman's nominal suzerainty,
allowing him to retain the full actual possession of all his ancestral
holdings, Amesa's voice joined with that of Moses Goleme and the other
allied nobles in commending the refusal of their chief.
Amesa's courage and zeal seemed at times to pass the control of his
judgment. Thus, in a sharp battle with the Turks, during the temporary
absence of Castriot, who was resisting an encroachment of the
Venetians on the neighboring country of Montenegro, the fiery young
voivode was seized with such blind ferocity that he knew not where he
was. He had engaged a group of his own countrymen, apparently not
discerning his mistake until he had unhorsed one of them, whom he was
on the point of sabering, when his arm was caught by a comrade. The
endangered man was Kabilovitsch, who saw that there was a method in
Amesa's madness which it behoved him to note.
It was evident to Kabilovitsch not only that he was recognized by
Amesa, but also that the young voivode was more than suspicious of the
former forester's knowledge of the affair by which the magnificent
estate of De Streeses had passed into his hands. The good man's
solicitude was intense through fear that Amesa had become aware of the
escape of the child heir, and might discover some clue to her
whereabouts. Several times Milosch had visited the camp inquiring for
Kabilovitsch; and Constantine had made frequent journeys carrying
tidings of Morsinia's welfare. Had neither of these been spied upon?
Did no one ever pass the little hamlet where she was in covert who
recognized in the now daily developing womanly features the likeness
of her mother, Mara De Streeses?
A little after this assault of Amesa upon Kabilovitsch, came news
which startled the latter. To understand this the reader must
penetrate a wild mountainous district a double score of miles from the
camp of Castriot.
FOOTNOTE:
[46] Sir William Temple.