Bassompierre sets out for Hungary to serve as a volunteer in the
Imperial Army against the Turks--His journey to Vienna--He learns
that the commander-in-chief of the army is General von Rossworm, a
mortal enemy of the Bassompierre family--He is advised by his
friends in Vienna to take service in the Army of Transylvania,
instead of in that of Hungary, but declines to change his plans--He
sups more well than wisely at Gran--His arrival at the Imperialist
camp before Buda--Position of the hostile armies--Bassompierre is
presented to Rossworm--He narrowly escapes being killed or taken
prisoner by the Turks--He takes part in a fierce combat in the Isle
of Adon, and has another narrow escape--He is reconciled with
Rossworm--Massacre of eight hundred Turkish prisoners--Failure of a
night-attack planned by the Imperialist general--Gallant but
foolhardy enterprise of the Hungarians--The Turks bombard the
Imperialist headquarters--Termination of the campaign--Bassompierre
returns with Rossworm to Vienna.
Peace having been concluded between France and Savoy, tranquillity
reigned for the moment in Europe, except in Hungary, where the eternal
conflict between the Cross and the Crescent continued to be waged as
bitterly as ever. In those days, war, with very few exceptions, was the
only road which led to honour and renown, and when Christians were at
peace with one another, the Turks became the objective of all
adventurous spirits, who went to fight the Infidel in Hungary, Crete, or
Malta as their ancestors flocked to the Crusades. Moreover, it was not
without mortification that the German relatives of Bassompierre, who had
seen all his family entirely devoted to the profession of arms, beheld
him passing his youth at the Court of France in voluptuous idleness,
and, to wean him from it, they obtained for him the offer of the command
of a regiment of 3,000 men which the Circle of Bavaria had agreed to
contribute to the Imperial Army in Hungary for the campaign of 1603.
Bassompierre, however, though willing enough to go to Hungary, had the
good sense to decline this post, “not deeming it fitting,” he writes,
“that, without any knowledge of the country, I should straightway take
command of 3,000 men,” and decided to serve as a simple volunteer.
Accordingly, about the middle of August, 1603, having obtained leave of
absence from the King, he left Paris, and travelled by way of Nancy and
Strasbourg to Ulm, where his attendants, whom he had sent on in advance,
had procured two large boats for his passage down the Danube. In these
he and his suite, which appears to have been quite an imposing one, as
befitted a gentleman of such ancient lineage and one of the favourites
of the King of France, embarked and proceeded to Neuburg, where he was
very hospitably entertained by Duke William II, who, a few years before,
had abdicated his throne in favour of his son, now Maximilian I.
Continuing his journey, with stoppages at Ingoldstadt, Ratisbon, and
Linz, at the beginning of the second week in September he arrived in
Vienna, where he found the Prince de Joinville, who had been temporarily
banished from France,[40] Frederick, Count von Salm, and several other
gentlemen of his acquaintance, both French and German, most of whom
were, like himself, on their way to win honour and glory, or
peradventure to find a soldier’s grave, on the plains of Hungary.
Some of these modern Crusaders came to dine with Bassompierre on the
day following his arrival in Vienna, and from them he learned a most
unwelcome piece of intelligence, namely, that the commander-in-chief of
the Imperial forces in Hungary under whom he was about to take service
was none other than General von Rossworm, a mortal enemy of the
Bassompierre family.
It appears that some fifteen years before, in the time of the League,
Rossworm had served in France under Bassompierre’s father, by whom he
had been placed in charge of the town of Blancmesnil. Rossworm had taken
advantage of his position to abduct a young lady of noble birth who had
taken refuge at Blancmesnil with her mother, and whom he promised to
marry, but subsequently discarded, after subjecting the poor girl to the
most abominable treatment. On ascertaining the facts of the case,
Christophe de Bassompierre, burning with righteous indignation, vowed
that the German should pay for his villainy with his head; but the
latter, warned in time, fled from Blancmesnil and for some little while
succeeded in evading pursuit. Eventually, however, he was run to earth
at Amiens, and would undoubtedly have been executed, had not the Sieur
de Vitry, who commanded the light cavalry of the League, and who
happened to be under some personal obligation to Rossworm, found means
to enable him to escape. Rossworm subsequently returned to Germany and
entered the Imperial service, and being, though a pretty bad scoundrel,
even for a German soldier of fortune of those times, a very brave man
and a most capable officer, rose step by step, until at length he was
appointed to the command of the Imperial army in Hungary.[41] He had
cherished the most implacable resentment against Christophe de
Bassompierre, and while the two young Bassompierres were studying at
Ingoldstadt, they received warning that Rossworm, in order to avenge
himself upon the father, had actually planned to have the sons
assassinated. On being informed of this, Christophe complained to the
Duke of Bavaria, who had just appointed Rossworm to the command of the
regiment of foot which Bavaria was about to send to Hungary. The Duke
promptly deprived Rossworm of that post, a step which had served to
incense that worthy still further against the Bassompierres.
Bassompierre’s friends in Vienna, on being informed by him how matters
stood, did not fail to represent to him the danger of placing himself in
the power of so unscrupulous and vindictive a man as Rossworm had proved
himself to be, and endeavoured to persuade him to renounce his intention
of going to Hungary and take service instead in the Army of
Transylvania, under its distinguished leader, George Basta. Finding,
however, that the young Lorrainer, though he quite appreciated the risk
he would be incurring, was indisposed to change his plans, they invited
to meet him at dinner Siegfried Colowitz, an Hungarian colonel, who had
just arrived in Vienna on a brief furlough, and laid the matter before
him.
Colowitz, who had taken so great a fancy to Bassompierre that he had
insisted on making _brudershaft_ with him, expressed the opinion that
Rossworm was too unpopular in the army to attempt any open violence
against his new friend, and that, if he were so imprudent as to do so,
he himself had 1,200 Hungarian cavalry under his command, and his
brother Ferdinand 1,500 _landsknechts_, who would obey their orders
without question. However, as it was possible that Rossworm might have
recourse to some other means of injuring Bassompierre, he proposed that
the latter should take up his quarters in his own part of the camp,
where he would guarantee his safety.
Towards the end of September, Bassompierre having spent the interval in
purchasing the tents, carts, horses, and other things which he
required, left Vienna, in company with the Prince de Joinville, and
continued his journey down the Danube. At Gran, the governor, Count
Althann, came to meet them, bringing with him horses for them to ride to
the citadel, where he informed them that he was expecting two other
distinguished guests, in the persons of the Bishop of Erlau and Count
Illischezki, one of the chief nobles of Hungary, whom the Emperor had
appointed as deputies to treat, in conjunction with himself, for peace.
At the citadel, the two young gentlemen appear to have supped more well
than wisely:--
“He [Count Althann],” writes Bassompierre, “entertained M. de
Joinville and myself to a most excellent supper, at which we drank
in moderation. But, unhappily, the deputies having arrived, orders
were given to serve it up again, and we remained at table until
midnight; by which time we were so drunk that we lost all
consciousness and had to be carried back to our boats.”
On September 27th they arrived at Waitzen, on the left bank of the
Danube, where they were met by Ferdinand Colowitz, who handed
Bassompierre a letter from his brother Siegfried, in which he informed
him that, at his request, the Count von Tilly, who, in his younger days,
had served under Christophe de Bassompierre and was now a major-general
in the Imperial Army, had broken the news of the coming of Christophe’s
son to the commander-in-chief, who had emphatically disclaimed any evil
intentions towards the young man, although he would prefer to have no
intercourse with him. Colowitz added that should Rossworm, despite what
he had said, attempt any violence, half the army would rise against him.
Bassompierre was naturally much relieved at this news, and that
afternoon he went with Joinville to Rossworm’s head-quarters, where he
was duly presented to the general and courteously, if somewhat coldly,
received. Afterwards, he proceeded to the Isle of Adon, where Siegfried
Colowitz’s cavalry were posted, and where his servants had already put
up his tent at a little distance from that of the Hungarian colonel.
It may be as well here to explain the situation of affairs at the moment
when Bassompierre joined the army.
In the campaign of the preceding year, the Christians had captured Pesth
and the lower town of Buda, situated on the opposite bank of the Danube.
This year their army, which was composed of some 30,000 infantry and
10,000 cavalry, to which, as in the time of the Crusades, almost every
country in Europe had contributed its quota, was encamped on the left
bank of the Danube, covering Pesth and threatening Buda. The Turks were
encamped on the right bank of the river, and their objective was the
revictualling of Buda and the recovery of Pesth or Gran. Rossworm had
strongly occupied the Isle of Adon, situated between the hostile camps,
and it was in this island that most of the fighting took place. The
Turks had occupied a small island, about 1,500 paces in circumference,
which lay between the Isle of Adon and their own camp, and had built a
bridge of boats from this island to the right bank. They had also made
several attempts to construct another bridge from the little island to
the left bank, but this was constantly broken by the fire of the
Imperialist artillery. They, however, occasionally succeeding in
crossing over to the Isle of Adon, and even to the Imperialists’ side of
the river, in caiques and on rafts, under cover of darkness, but had
never yet succeeded in securing a footing there.
Hardly had Bassompierre finished supper that evening than a message
arrived from Siegfried Colowitz to inform him that a reconnoitring party
of the enemy had just landed on the island, and to request him, if he
were in the mood for a little fighting, to put on his armour and have a
horse saddled, as he was about to attack them. Shortly afterwards,
Colowitz himself rode up, accompanied by a hundred or so of his
Hungarians, one of whom he ordered to dismount and give his horse to
Bassompierre, whose own charger he considered too heavy an animal for
the work before them. They then galloped away, and, having come upon the
Turks, charged them vigorously and forced them to beat a hasty retreat
to their caiques and return to their own side of the river.
The following night, however, the Turks succeeded in landing on the
island in considerable force from caiques and pontoons, on the same spot
which they had just reconnoitred and began hurriedly constructing
entrenchments, with the object of holding the Imperialists at bay long
enough to enable the rest of the Ottoman army to be brought across. They
were so fiercely attacked, however, that they were soon obliged to
retreat.
A few days later, Bassompierre had a narrow escape of being killed or
taken prisoner.
“At daybreak on September 29,” he writes, “we issued from our great
entrenchment with 200 Hungarian horse to reconnoitre the enemy; but
we had not gone three hundred paces, when we perceived some hundred
horsemen in front of us. The Hungarians, according to their custom,
were dispersed in all directions, and we had not more than thirty
with us, all of whom took to flight so soon as the enemy appeared.
But I, who could not imagine that the Turks had advanced so far,
and who could not distinguish them from the Hungarians, thought
that they belonged to us, until an Hungarian fugitive called out to
me: ‘_Heu, domine, adsunt Turcae!_’ which caused me to retreat
also.”
At the beginning of October the Turks resolved upon a great effort to
drive the Imperialists from the Isle of Adon. Rossworm, however, had
received warning of the enemy’s intention, and of the day and hour when
the attempt would be made; and, though he might easily have prevented
the Turks from reaching the island, he decided to allow them to pass the
river and then to fall suddenly upon them. With this purpose, he
brought, under cover of night, the greater part of his army over to the
island, and placed in ambush a body of 4,000 infantry and 2,000 cavalry,
the latter including the regiment of Siegfried Colowitz, to which
Bassompierre and Joinville were attached. These troops swooped down upon
the Turks before they had had time to form in order of battle after
effecting their landing, and routed them with terrible slaughter, great
numbers being cut down, while many more were drowned in the Danube, into
which they had thrown themselves to escape the lances and sabres of the
pursuing cavalry.
In this engagement Bassompierre again had a narrow escape. He was
mounted that day on a magnificent Spanish stallion, for which he had
given a thousand crowns; but he was a very mettlesome animal and by no
means easy to ride, and, having been wounded below the eye by a javelin
in the first charge, while, at the same time, his curb-chain broke, he
became quite unmanageable and bolted after the flying enemy at breakneck
speed. Bassompierre endeavoured in vain to stop him, and then, seeing
that he had far outstripped his comrades and was alone in the midst of
the fugitives, he bore hard on the left rein and succeeded in turning
him in that direction. But he had only diverted the maddened animal’s
course, without checking his speed, and found himself being carried
towards a body of some thousand Turks who had not yet been engaged and
were retreating in good order. A few seconds more and he would have been
in the middle of them, when, happily for him, his equerry Des Essans,
who had been riding hard to overtake his master, came up and, seizing
the runaway’s bridle, managed to hold him long enough to enable
Bassompierre to throw himself out of the saddle, within twenty paces of
the Turks. The latter, though very reluctant to forgo the chance of
killing and despoiling so magnificent a cavalier--for Bassompierre tells
us that he was arrayed that day “in a suit of gilded armour, very
beautifully chased, with a number of plumes and scarves upon himself and
his horse”--were too hard pressed by their pursuers to turn aside, and
continued their retreat, leaving him and Des Essans unmolested. The
faithful equerry had, however, not escaped unscathed, as, in seizing the
bridle of his master’s horse, he had been somewhat badly wounded in the
leg by Bassompierre’s sword, which was suspended from his wrist.
Having procured another horse, Bassompierre continued the pursuit of the
enemy to the bank of the river, and then, accompanied by Joinville, made
his way to the spot where Rossworm and his staff were gathered, “seated
on some dead Turks.” On seeing Bassompierre, the general rose and
announced that he wished to say a few words.
“And, after having praised me for what he had just seen me do, and
observed that I should not be a member of the family to which I
belonged if I were not valiant, he continued: ‘The late M. de
Bassompierre, your father, was my master, but he wished to put me
to death unjustly. I desire to forget that outrage and to remember
only the obligations under which he had previously placed me, and
to be henceforth, if you wish it, your friend and your servant.’
Then I dismounted from my horse and advanced to salute him and
thank him in the most suitable terms that I could think of. Upon
which, turning towards the two princes, the Prince de Joinville and
the Landgrave of Hesse, and the colonels and other officers who
were with him, he said: ‘Gentlemen, I could not effect this
reconciliation or offer these assurances of friendship to M. de
Bassompierre in a better place, after a better action, or before
more noble witnesses. I invite you to dine with me to-morrow, and
him also, to confirm again what has just occurred.’ And this we all
promised to do.”
After this victory the Imperialists returned to their camp on the left
bank of the river, where Rossworm ordered all the Turkish prisoners
taken in the battle to be put to death, “because they embarrassed the
army.” “It was a very cruel thing,” adds Bassompierre, “to see more
than 800 men who had surrendered slaughtered in cold blood.”
Nevertheless, the butchery of prisoners appears to have been an only too
common practice in the wars between the Cross and the Crescent, which
were conducted on both sides with the most pitiless ferocity.
Next day Bassompierre dined with the commander-in-chief and his staff,
when they confirmed “with the bottle and a thousand protestations of
friendship, the reconciliation which had been effected on the field of
battle.” To do Rossworm justice, he was perfectly sincere in his desire
to terminate his feud with the Bassompierre family, and he and the young
volunteer soon became firm friends.
The Turks still held the little island, and had preserved intact the
bridge of boats by which communication with their army on the right bank
of the Danube was maintained. They had mounted on this island six pieces
of cannon, which completely commanded the approach from the left bank of
the river, so that any attempt to capture it by day would have been out
of the question, even if the bridge of boats had not enabled the enemy
to hurry reinforcements across at the first alarm. Rossworm, however,
considered that, if the communications of the garrison of the island
with their army could be temporarily interrupted by the destruction of
this bridge, a night attack might very well prove successful.
On the night of October 8-9 he determined to make the attempt, and
accordingly dispatched engineers to blow up the bridge, while a large
force was brought into the Isle of Adon, and boats and rafts collected
to ferry them across. The engineers duly succeeded in destroying the
bridge, but the Hungarians, who formed the advance-guard of the
attacking force, remained inactive in their boats in the middle of the
river, awaiting the arrival of a body of pikemen whom they had demanded
as supports, in case there should be cavalry on the island. The
consequence was that the Turks were given time to send over
reinforcements, and the opportunity was lost.
Rossworm returned to his camp in great wrath, anathematizing the
Hungarians, whom he accused of cowardice. The Hungarian chiefs
indignantly repudiated such an aspersion, and, to redeem their
reputation, volunteered to cross the river and construct a fort in the
plain between Buda and the Turkish camp. Rossworm accepted this offer,
though it is difficult to understand how he could have countenanced an
undertaking which could have no other result than the useless sacrifice
of gallant lives; and on the night of October 10-11, some 1,300
Hungarians landed on the right bank, unperceived by the enemy, and began
to entrench themselves.
They worked desperately all night, but when morning dawned, a Turkish
flotilla appeared upon the scene, and bombarded their
hastily-constructed fort from the river; while the enemy in great force
assailed it from the land side. After an heroic resistance, the
Hungarians were obliged to abandon it, with the loss of some 300 men,
and retreat to the caiques which were waiting to take them off. So
fierce was the pursuit that some of the Turkish cavalry spurred their
horses into the water to attack the caiques, and two were made prisoners
with their steeds.
Rossworm had placed a number of cannon in the Isle of Adon to cover the
retreat of the Hungarians, but only two of these pieces appear to have
come into action, which Bassompierre tells us the general ascribed to
the fact that, the day being a Sunday, most of the artillerymen were
drunk.
Shortly after this, the Turks brought up some twenty guns to a height
overlooking the Imperialist headquarters, which they bombarded heavily
and persistently. One day, whilst Bassompierre was playing cards with
the general and two other officers, a shot passed right through the
tent, whilst on another, when visiting Annibal de Schomberg, a shot
struck the tent-pole and brought the whole tent down upon the heads of
its occupants. Finally, after this unpleasant state of things had lasted
for five days, Rossworm decided to remove his headquarters to a valley
where cannon-shot could not reach him, upon which the bombardment
ceased.
Towards the middle of November, the Turks, having succeeded in their
main objective, that of revictualling Buda, struck their camp and
marched back to Belgrade, where their army was disbanded. Rossworm,
after leading a flying column along the river and capturing one or two
not very important places, with the idea of showing that the campaign
had not been wholly without results on the Imperialists’ side, disbanded
his troops likewise, and set out for Vienna, accompanied by
Bassompierre.