_Bajazet_ in Prison; he knew him to be of an aspiring and courageous
Spirit, far superior to his Brother; and that, if he should succeed
his Father in the Empire, it might do _Persia_ much more Mischief than
ever _Selimus_ could; for he was but a slothful Prince, and not at all
for a War, and therefore some thought he would never escape out of his
Hands; for to be sure he can never be a Friend to one he hath injured so
much. Some think one thing, and some another: For my part, I think it
will be an intricate Business. For, as _Bajazet_ is in Troubles, and the
Issue undetermin’d, they will not easily make War on _Christendom_ at
this Juncture. They labour to obtrude on me certain conditions of Peace,
having some Letters that will please my Master, but they allow me no
Copy of them, as heretofore they used to do; so that I suspect Fraud in
the case, and therefore do peremptorily refuse to send those Letters to
_Cæsar_, unless I first know their Contents; and if they deceive me by a
false Copy, then the Blame lies at their Door, not at mine: By this means
I shall free my Master from answering their captious Letters; for I am
sure he will accept of no conditions of Peace but such as are honourable.
But, you’ll say, if you refuse to accept of their conditions of Peace,
’tis one step towards a War. Let that be as it will, I judge it more
adviseable to leave all free to the events of future Ages: But the not
sending their Letters, if that be a Crime, I shall take up on my self;
and I shall easily clear my self, if the Issue of _Bajazet_’s Affairs do
not answer their Expectation; since it is yet very difficult, though not
impossible, for the _Turks_ are not irreconcileable to those Ambassadors,
who study to do their Master the best Service they can amongst them. And
besides, the declining Age of my Prince will be some advantage to me, who
the _Bashaws_ thinks is fitter for rest and quiet, than for the Fatigues
of an unnecessary War. ’Tis true, my Pains will be prolonged hereby, but
I shall think them best bestowed, if they succeed at last.
Thus, Sir, I have written you a Book rather than a Letter; and if I
have offended you in it, the fault is yours rather than mine: What I
did was at your Request, and Readiness to please a Friend, hath always
been counted a Vertue in Friendship. Yet I hope these Things will be
as pleasant for you to Read, as they were delightful for me to Write;
for, let me tell you, as soon as I put Pen to Paper, I love to wander
abroad in my Mind, that so I may as it were, deceive my Confinement
as long as I can, and converse with you as if we were together. What
things seem frivolous and needless, you must take, as proceeding by word
of Mouth in familiar Conferences among Friends. Men may be allow’d to
tittle tattle in a Letter, as well as in common Discourse. If I were
to write Inscriptions for Churches and Temples, to be seen of all Men,
Circumspection and Care must be used; but not when I write to you and a
few private Friends. I aim not at Fame; if my Lines please you, I have
enough. You will say, perhaps, I might have written better Latin: I
grant it; but what if it were beyond my Ability? It was not for want of
any good will; and yet, let me ask you, what good Latin can come out of
uncouth _Greece_, or barbarous _Turkey_? If you have any Value for my
Letters, you shall have more of them after my Return to _Vienna_, if ever
God permit me to return: If not, excuse the last Trouble I shall give
you. Farewell.
_Constantinople_, June 1st.
_SIR_,
I Acknowledge the fresh Proof you give me of Old Friendship, in
congratulating my Return; and, as you require an Account of the Residue
of my Embassy, and what Occurrences have happened since my last to
you, I will remember my Promise to you, and never disoblige so choice
a Friend. Take them all in a Medley together, what comes next into my
Head, as my Memory suggests things more, or less serious. My beginning
is upon the mournful; it is this. I was scarce settled in my Mind, which
was troubled for _Bajazet_’s Misfortunes and Death, when, lo! I was
struck with another Message as sorrowful as the former. We were all in
great Expectation of the Success of the _Turkish_ Fleet, which sailed
toward the Isle of _Meninge_, (now called _Gerse_,) upon News that the
_Spaniards_ had prevailed there. For _Solyman_ (being assured that Island
was taken by the _Christians_, and that they had added new Fortifications
to the old Castle therein, in which they had yet a very strong Garrison,)
could not endure to be thus check’d in the midst of all the Prosperities
of his flourishing Empire. Hereupon he equipp’d a Navy with Auxiliaries
to relieve those that were _Mahometans_ like himself; and made _Pihal
Bassa_ Commander of his Fleet. He furnish’d his Ships with a select
Company of Soldiers, and yet was doubtful of the Event; because the
Voyage was long, and they were to engage with a formidable Enemy. For you
may please to be inform’d, that the _Turks_, for a long time, have had a
great Opinion of the Valour of the _Spaniards_, as knowing that they have
waged great Wars, and came off with good Success. They had heard of the
Emperor _Charles_, and of his Son _Philip_, the Heir of his Valour, as
well as of his Kingdoms. The Report of his Power made the _Turks_ very
solicitous; so that those that went the Voyage, made their last Wills, as
if they were never to return to _Constantinople_ again. Thus the whole
City, both those that went, and those that staid at Home, was filled with
Anxiety. But, alas! their Fleet sailed with a prosperous Gale, and came
upon the _Christians_ unawares; which struck such a Terror into them,
that they knew not how to fight or fly: Some nimble Vessels made their
Escape; the rest were either taken by the Enemy, or split and dash’d in
pieces on the Sands. The Duke of _Medina_ the General, and _John Andrea
Doria_ the Admiral, fled to the Castle, from whence they escap’d in a
dark Night, undiscovered, through the Enemy’s Fleet to _Sicily_.
_Pihal_ sent hither a Galley to give an account of this Victory, and, as
a further Testimony thereof, he caused a Banner, wherein was the Image
of our Saviour Christ upon the Cross, to be pulled along the Sea, at the
stern of the Vessel. As soon as it arrived in the Haven, the Loss of the
_Christians_ was presently noised abroad, and the _Turks_ congratulated
one another upon their Victory. They came thick and three-fold to my
Door, and asked my Servants in a Jeer, whether they had any Brother, or
other Friend, in the _Spanish_ Fleet? If you had, said they, you may
shortly have the opportunity of seeing their Faces here.
Besides, they highly extoll’d their own Valour, and blam’d the Cowardise
of the _Christians_. Who, say they, shall now be able to stand before us,
seeing we have conquered the _Spaniards_? My People were forced to hear
this sad News to their great Grief; but God’s Will must be done! Our only
Hope was, that the Castle, in which was a strong Garrison, might hold out
against the _Turks_ till the Winter, or some other Accident had rais’d
the Siege. And yet our Hopes were mix’d with Fears, that the Conqueror
would take that too; and so it fell out, for the Besieged wanted all
things, especially Water; so that _Don Alvarez de Sande_, the Governor
thereof, a courageous Man, and an old Soldier, perceiving that it could
be defended no longer, got a Boat, and made his Escape, with a few
Companions, towards _Sicily_, that so he might not behold the Surrender
of so important a Place, which he thought would be look’d upon as a Blot
in his Escutcheon, though the extreamest Necessity had compelled it.
When he was gone, the Soldiers opened the Gates, and let in the _Turks_,
hoping to find them the more merciful, because of their easy Admittance.
_Don John_ of _Castile_, however, would by no means leave the Fort which
he commanded, but he and his Brother valiantly repulsing the Enemy,
were at last wounded and taken. The Castle was stoutly defended by the
_Spaniards_ for three Month’s Space, though they wanted many Necessaries,
and, which was worst of all, had no prospect of Relief. The Weather was
hot, and they almost parched with Thirst. They had but one Cistern to
hold Water in, which was not big enough to serve them all; so that they
were compelled to weigh out their Water to each Man by Measure, only
enough to keep Life and Soul together. This Cistern-Water was increased
with a Mixture of Sea-Water, and by some curious Art made fresh. This
Secret was very opportunely told them by a certain Alchymist: But all
had not the Benefit of it; for you should see some lie parching on the
Ground, ready to give up the Ghost for very Thirst, continually crying
out, as well as they could speak, _Water! Water!_ and, if a little was
brought, they were relieved for the present; but, when that Moisture was
spent, they relapsed to their former Drought, and died thereof. Thus many
perished, besides the Wounded, who could have no help of Surgery to cure
them in that desolate Place.
In the Month of _September_, the victorious Navy of the _Turks_ returned
to _Constantinople_, bringing the _Christians_ Captives, with their
Gallies along with them. A joyful Spectacle to the _Turks_; but a sad
one to the _Christians_ that lived amongst them! That Night it lay at
Anchor near the Rocks over against _Byzantium_, that so they might enter
the Port the next Day in greater Pomp and Splendor. _Solyman_ came down
into an Apartment in his Gardens near the Sea-side, that from thence he
might see the Prisoners entring in. _Don Alvarez de Sande_ was in the
stern of his Admiral Galley, and with him, _Don Sancho de Leyva_, and
_Don Bellinger de Requesne_, one Commander of the _Sicilian_ Galleys, the
other of the _Neapolitan_. The Galleys of the _Christians_ were despoiled
of their Ornaments, as Streamers, _&c._ and hall’d in Barques, that
they might appear little and contemptible in the sight of the _Turks_.
They who observ’d _Solyman_’s Countenance at that time say, that they
perceived no sign of insolent Mirth therein. This is certain, that when I
saw him go to his Devotion the next day, his Countenance was not altered
from its usual Hue, as if that Victory had not concern’d him at all; so
well was this cunning old Man able to bear the breath of his smiling
Fortune, that he was unmov’d under it.
The Prisoners were afterwards brought into the _Seraglio_, but so
miserably hunger-starv’d before, that some could hardly stand on their
Legs, others fell down in a Swoon for very Feebleness; others had Arms in
a Jeer put upon them, in which posture they died; the _Turks_ insulting
over them on every Hand, and promising to themselves the Empire of
the whole World; for who now shall be able to stand before us, (said
they) since we have overcome the _Spaniards_? There was a Commander in
the _Turkish_ Fleet, with whom I had some Acquaintance, who had taken
the great Banner of the _Neapolitans_ Galleys, being Imperial Eagles
embracing one another; being inform’d that he was about to present it
to _Solyman_, I thought good to prevent him; and sending him two silken
Garments, I obtained the Banner, that so the Ensign of _Charles_ the
Fifth might not remain in the Hands of Infidels, to the eternal Infamy of
the Christian Name.
There were amongst the Prisoners, besides those above-mentioned, these
two eminent Persons, _Don John_ of _Cordona_, the Son in Law of _Don
Bellinger_, and _Don Gasto_, the Son of the Duke of _Medina_, who, though
but a Youth, had an honourable Post in his Father’s Army, _Don John_
promised to give a great Sum of Money to be left Prisoner at _Chios_,
(which was inhabited by the old _Genoese_) which was accordingly done.
As for _Don Gasto_, he was concealed by _Pihal_, in hopes to have a
large Price for his Redemption; which Project of his had like to have
proved his Ruin: For _Solyman_, by some means or other, smelt out the
Cheat, and was grievously vex’d that _Pihal_ should serve him such a
Trick. He resolv’d, at the Instigation also of _Rustan_, that _Gasto_
should be brought to Light, that so _Pihal_ might be punish’d; but
_Gasto_ died in the Search; some say, of the Plague, others by the
procurement of _Pihal_ himself, that he might tell no Tales. This is
certain, that, upon the most diligent Search, he could not be found.
However, _Pihal_ was afraid to come to _Constantinople_ to appear before
his angry Master, lest he might be imprisoned there; but he hovered with
a few Galleys about several Islands of the _Ægæan_ Sea, pretending divers
Excuses for so doing. But at last _Solyman_, by the persuasion of the
chief Eunuch of his Son _Selimus_ gave him his Pardon in these Words: _I,
for my part, forgive him his great Offence; but God Almighty, the just
Revenger of all Wickedness, inflict just Punishment on him in the Life to
come!_ So strongly are the _Turks_ persuaded, that no evil Fact should
pass unpunished!
_Don John_ of _Cordona_ fared better; for, by the care of _Adam a
Ditrichstein_, Baron of _Austria_, who married his Sister, and by my
engaging for him, he returned safe into _Spain_. As for _de Sande_,
he was brought into the _Divan_, and there _Rustan_ demanded of him,
what his Master meant by invading other Men’s Rights, when he could not
maintain his own? _De Sande_ answered, the Question belonged not to
him to answer; ’twas his part only to execute his Master’s Commands as
faithfully as he could, wherein Fortune had been against him. However,
he begged the _Bashaws_ upon his Knees, that, in regard he had a Wife
and Children at Home, they would speak a good Word for him to _Solyman_.
_Rustan_ answered, that their Emperor was of a merciful Disposition,
and that they would intercede for him. Thus was he sent Prisoner to
the Castle called _Caradenis_, that is, _of the Black Sea_: He was not
gone far, before he was sent for back again, because the Chief of the
Bed-Chamber had not seen him; who, I have find before, is a Man of great
Authority with his Prince. Upon this Countermand, some say, that, though
otherwise undaunted, he was a little faint-hearted, as fearing he was
brought back to his Ruin; but it proved otherwise. As for the other
Prisoners, the chief of them, as _Sancho de Leyva_ with his two natural
Sons, and _Don Bellinger_ himself, were sent into the Castle of _Pera_,
or _Galata_.
As soon as I was made acquainted with their Condition, and in what want
of all Things they were, I thought it my Duty to do my best to relieve
them; and thereupon I sent some to comfort them, and to promise them
all the good Offices that lay in my power: And, from that Day forward,
my House was a common Receptacle for all the Prisoners; and I did them
all the Kindness I could. For, you must know, the _Turks_ think their
Prisoners well enough provided for, if they allow them Bread and Water.
They have no regard to any Man’s Age or Constitution, or to the time of
the Year; whether they be Sick or Well, Strong or Weak, Old or Young,
’tis all one to them; they are all treated after one and the same manner.
Hereupon, I was forced to provide several sorts of Relief for several
Necessities, different Diseases requiring different Cures. There lay a
multitude of sick Persons in a certain Temple of _Pera_, a Town over
against _Byzantium_, whom the _Turks_ cast out as Abjects; and many
of them perished for want of convenient Broths to relieve their sick
Stomachs, and recover their lost Strength by degrees. When I was told
thereof, I dealt with a Friend of mine, a Citizen of _Pera_, desiring him
to buy some Weather-Sheep every day, and boil them at his own House, to
distribute the Flesh to some, and the Broth to others, as their Stomachs
could bear; which was a great Relief to abundance of them: But those
which were in Health, required another sort of Assistance. My House was
full from Morning to Night with several Complaints. Some were used to
good Diet, and a piece of brown Bread, which was their daily Allowance,
would not go down so well with them; some, that used to drink Wine, could
not bear the perpetual use of Water only; some wanted Blankets to cover
them, having never known what it was to lie on the bare Ground; some
wanted Coats, others Shoes; but the most part desired some Footing-Money
to gratify their Keepers, that they might deal the more mercifully with
them. Money was the only Remedy for these Mischiefs, so that every day
some Guilders were expended by me on these Accounts. But these Expences
were tolerable, compared with greater Sums which were desired of me; or
else they prayed me to be their Surety for payment of their Ransom-Money;
and herein every one, was very forward with his Pretences; one alledged
Nobleness of Birth; another, that he had great Friends and Alliances; a
Third, that he was a Commander in the Army, and had much Pay due to him;
a Fourth, that he had Cash enough at Home, and was able to imburse me.
Some boasted of their Valour in the Fight; every one had something to
say for himself. When I demanded of them, whether they would be sure to
repay me? God forbid, said they! For what is more unjust, than to defraud
a Man who hath restored us to our Liberty, even out of the Jaws of Death?
And the Truth is, it was very grievous to me, to hear a Man come and tell
me, unless I can lay down 200 Guilders for my Redemption, I am undone
for ever; I shall be sent over into _Asia_ to be made a Galley-Slave, to
tug at the Oar, without any hope to see my own Country again. There is a
Merchant, Sir, that will deposit Wares amounting to that Value, provided
you will promise Repayment. This was the Allegation of almost all of
them; which could not but affect me, as knowing it to be most true, that,
if they were not relieved, many of them must needs perish; and none could
better do it, nor could they more justly expect it from any Man, than
my self. But, you will say, there is no trusting any Body; to which I
answer, can any Man be so prodigiously ungrateful, as not to repay what
was laid out to save his Life; and, grant that one or two may not have
Ability to reimburse me, what’s that to the purpose? ’Tis not lost, that
which is laid out to relieve the Oppressed: But sure the greater part of
them will perform their Promise. For these Reasons, I was induced to pass
my Word for 1000 Ducats, and have thereby run my self so much in Debt,
that I know not how to get out; but I fear have freed them from Fetters,
and clapp’d them on my own Legs.
I am the larger upon this Subject, to purge my self from too much
Weakness, which I know some will accuse me of, in being ready to trust
every body; and, in some Measure, to take the blame upon my self for
the slackness of some, for whom I have undertaken in their Repayments. I
foresee I shall be a great loser by the Business; for I must necessarily
make Payment on the Day, when my Word was once passed: And besides, I
heard that some whom I had released, had laughed at my easy Nature, in
believing what they said to be true; so that my Case is bad, if I should
judge of the rest by them. But, be it as it will, I thank my God, that I
have been able to do so many good Offices to so many distressed Persons.
I do not repent it; for Virtue is a sufficient Reward to it self. I covet
not, that any Honours should be conferred on me, nor any Statue erected
for my Beneficence; I only wish, that they would be so grateful, as to
pay me what I am out of Pocket, to save their Lives; of which I despair
not from so cordial a Nation as the _Spaniards_ are. For my part, I
rejoice not only that I did them a good turn, but that thereby I gave an
Example and Invitation to others to do the same.
There live many Merchants in _Pera_, _Italians_ by Birth, who are very
assistant in relieving Christian-Prisoners; but one of them deserves to
be particularly mentioned, for the absurdity of his Opinion, differing
from all the rest. He was an _Italian Greek_, that is, one who resembles
both those Nations in his Birth and Manners. When his Country-men were
mercifully busied in relieving Prisoners, he could never be persuaded to
give one Farthing towards so pious a Work; and, being blamed for it, his
Answer was, (which he uttered in a barbarous and blunt _Italian_ Style,
the _Greek_ being more familiar to him,) I know not, what these Men are;
but this I know, that the just Judgment of God hath brought them into
this miserable Condition. For my part, I will not oppose the Will of God;
let them abide in that Place God hath allotted them. You, who so boldly
withstand what God hath decreed, may pity them if you please; but I will
not spare a Doit to release them, though you use never so many Arguments
to persuade me: But enough of this vain and foolish Fellow. This Loss at
Sea, together with the Misfortune of _Bajazet_, struck a great Terror
into me, that the _Turks_, made more insolent thereby, would hearken to
no Conditions of Peace. This publick Calamity was seconded by a private
one; the Plague was got into my House; one of my faithful Servant died of
it, and the rest were terribly afraid of the Infection.
But, before I speak of that, there was another Case surprised me, arising
on this account.
_Solyman_ grows every Day more and more Superstitious in his Religion. He
used to delight himself in Musick, and in the chanting of young Singers;
but all this was laid aside, by means of a certain old Sibyl, noted for
Sanctity, who told him, that, if he left not off that Sport, he would
be severely punished after his Death. He was so moved herewith, that he
cast his Musical Instruments, though richly studded with Gold and Jewels,
into the Fire and burnt them: And, whereas he formerly eat his Meat out
of Silver Dishes, now he was persuaded to use none but Earthen Platters.
He was also prevailed upon by her to forbid the use of Wine, wherein she
told him too great a liberty was used, which his Prophet would be angry
at, if he longer suffered it. Hereupon an Edict was published, that for
the future no Wine should be imported into _Constantinople_, either for
_Christians_ or _Jews_.
This Edict did much concern me and mine, who had never used to drink
Water; and what Wine could we have, if it were forbid? Our long
absence from our Country, and the uncertain issue of our Embassy, were
a sufficient Mortification to us, without this other Inconvenience of
change of Diet, which must needs indanger our Health. Hereupon I desired
my Interpreters to intercede for me in the _Divan_, that I might retain
my ancient Right. The _Bashaws_ Men were of different Opinions in the
Case; some alledged, we ought to be content with Water as well as they;
for what would the Neighbourhood say, if _Christians_ may drink Wine,
and themselves be strictly forbid the use of it? If _Christians_ in the
midst of _Constantinople_, might guzzle what Wine they please, the stink
of it will spread far and near, and profane all; yea, the _Mussulmen_
themselves, when they came to us, would return belching out the smell of
Wine.
Hereupon we were likely to be cast in our Cause; but at last a more
favourable Judgment went for us. That the sudden change would be
intolerable, and occasion many Diseases if not Death itself. Whereupon
we were allowed the freedom of one Night, to get in what Wine we could,
which was brought to the nearest Landing-place, from whence we were
furnished with Horse-Carriage to convey it to my Lodging with as little
Observation as might be, all being done in the Night. Thus I stor’d
myself, and kept my Priviledge.
Some of the _Grecians_ play’d a pretty prank with the Sultan on this
Account. When they knew that he was to pass through a Road full of
Vineyards on both sides, they set a great many Labourers at work to root
out the Vines; some of them they laid in the Highway; others they loaded
on Carts. The Emperor passing by, and demanding the Reason for so doing,
they answered, That since by his Edict they were forbid the use of Wine,
they were cutting down their Vines to make Fuel for the Fire. For shame,
says _Solyman_, forbear! you do not understand my Command aright; though
I forbid the use of Wine, yet I allow the eating of Grapes, as one of
the best Fruits that God hath allotted to Mankind; only you are not to
squeeze out their Juice, and tun it up in Hogsheads, and so you may make
a pernicious use of it. What will you cut down Apple-trees also, because
they bear not Wine? Get you gone you Buzzards, and spare your Vines! Thus
the _Greeks_ were fool’d in their Project.