Character of D’Aubusson—Religious union in Rhodes—Destruction of the suburbs—Arrival of the Turkish fleet—Attack on St. Nicholas—Conduct of D’Aubusson during the siege—First repulse of the infidels—Fresh attack on the Jewish quarter—Storm of the city—Defeat and failure of the Turks—D’Aubusson’s danger and recovery—Fall of Kaffa and Otranto—Death of Mahomet the Great.
Character of D’Aubusson—Religious union in Rhodes—Destruction of the suburbs—Arrival of the Turkish fleet—Attack on St. Nicholas—Conduct of D’Aubusson during the siege—First repulse of the infidels—Fresh attack on the Jewish quarter—Storm of the city—Defeat and failure of the Turks—D’Aubusson’s danger and recovery—Fall of Kaffa and Otranto—Death of Mahomet the Great.
The course of our narrative has now brought us to the first of those remarkable sieges which constitute the chief interest in the history of the Knights of St. John. The circumstances briefly detailed in the foregoing chapter will have enabled the reader in some measure to appreciate the devotion and gallantry of their resistance, and the peril of their position when the vast armament of the Ottomans bore down on Rhodes,—that little island which lay alone amid the wreck of Christianity in the East, like the single rock which lifts its head above the raging waters of a mighty deluge. But the event itself stands out with so much prominence in the annals of Christian chivalry—it is so honourable to the illustrious society whose exploits we have undertaken to narrate, and especially to the commander whose election to the grand-mastership we have just recorded, that our story must take something of a less desultory character; and though we cannot pretend to offer a finished portrait of every great man who appeared in an order of heroes,hisname at least deserves a different kind of notice.
Peter D’Aubusson was descended from one of the most illustrious houses of France; Norman in its origin, and allied to the royal Norman blood. He was a soldier from his youth, but a man of letters also; and, to use the expression of the French historian, “the extent and facility of his mind sufficed for every thing.” The popularityof his name, great as it was in his order, was even more enthusiastically felt among the populace of Rhodes. The extraordinary joy manifested by them at his election had something in it far different from the ordinary popular rejoicings at a coronation—it was from the heart; and men no longer feared Mahomet now that D’Aubusson was at the head of the Knights of St. John. His first act was a careful inspection of the entire island in person; and on his return, he summoned all the knights once more to assemble in Rhodes, and in the chapter general of the following spring was invested with absolute power during the ensuing siege, which all now felt to be close at hand. Indeed, it was a remarkable testimony to the extraordinary capacity of this great man, that an order so jealous for the preservation of its constitutional privileges voluntarily created him its dictator, not only in military, but also in financial and political affairs. He held an irresponsible power, yet from no act of usurpation on his own part; nor do we ever find him taking advantage of the boundless confidence of his subjects to prolong or extend his authority; but, on the contrary, he himself restrained it, and after holding the administration of the treasury for three years and regulating its disorders, he refused to retain it longer, but gave it back into the hands of the ordinary officers of the finance. His genius was as universal as it was commanding. He was at the head of every department: he made his own gunpowder, and directed the building of his own ships; he surpassed the first engineers of his age in a practical knowledge of the science of defence, was an excellent chemist, and assiduous in his personal services in the hospital, where he showed that he thoroughly understood the treatment of the sick.
Hitherto the various summonses addressed by previous grand masters to the knights of distant provinces had produced but little result; but the name of D’Aubusson gave a magical effect to his commands. From every quarter the knights flocked in with singularpromptitude, and many of the European sovereigns contributed large sums to facilitate their journey. Mahomet saw that there was at least little chance of taking Rhodes and its defenders by surprise; for which reason he tried every means of throwing the grand master off his guard. Among these were pretended treaties for truce, and the despatch of a multitude of spies and feigned embassies; and lastly, an attempt to introduce dissensions among the people of Rhodes, and win them over from the cause of the order. The sultan doubtless thought it a surpassing stroke of policy to suggest to the Rhodian Greeks, as a lure, the unlimited exercise of their religion free from all Latin domination. But the result showed that he knew little of the state with which he had to deal. There was no jealousy of sect or party known in the religion of Rhodes; and every effort to sow dissension among the natives was met by the indignant cry, “We are all of one belief! here there is neither Greek nor Latin; for we are Christians, the servants of Jesus Christ and of His blessed Mother!” This unity of religious belief had ever been one of the chief blessings and privileges enjoyed under the rule of the order; but it was especially and vigorously protected by D’Aubusson, who, with the utmost zeal, guarded against any thing that could introduce the fatal seeds of schism or dissension; and was accustomed to say that he reigned over Christians, not Latins or Greeks, and that even the schismatics, if there were any such, should be treated with strict impartiality. The fact was, however, that, with individual exceptions, the adherents to the Greek rite in Rhodes were in communion with their Latin brethren; for the large and wise policy of the grand masters had still succeeded in preserving alive that union which, settled by the Florentine Council, had never existed elsewhere but in theory and in name.
If Rhodes was beautiful to the eye and captivating to the imagination, when first Villaret and his companions set foot upon its shores, much more so was itnow, when the lapse of a hundred and seventy years had made it the centre of southern civilisation, and the riches of a long commercial prosperity had been lavished on its adornment and the cultivation of the domestic arts. All around the grand and battlemented walls of the capital there spread in sweet contrast gardens, villas, and vineyards; most verdant hills darkened with woods of pomegranates and oranges; a rich suburban district,—the glory of a city in times of peace, and its worst enemy in the perils of a siege. All about this garden-world there sparkled streams and fountains of bright and delicious water; there was no water like that of Rhodes, nor any country to compare to its rich and beautiful soil, at least in the mind of its inhabitants. “It was,” says one of its own citizens,[12]“the favourite, sweetest island of the sun, where the air was ever pure, and the country ever smiling.”
The first act of D’Aubusson, on his investiture by the chapter with the supreme and absolute command, was one of stern but most necessary sacrifice. The suburbs were to be destroyed; the trees and gardens cut down and wasted; and even the churches razed to the ground, so as to prevent the enemy from finding shelter under the city-walls. The Rhodians watched the process of destruction with tears of regret, so very dear to their hearts was the beauty of their capital; but all knew that the calamity was inevitable, and so, silencing their grief, they lent their aid to make a desert of their paradise, and spared nothing; only, says Vertot, “before destroying the church of our Lady of Philermos, they carried the image of the Blessed Virgin thence to the principal church within the city-walls; for it had been preserved from time immemorial, and was greatly revered.” All the fields were now laid waste, and the forage carried into the city; many of those beautiful crystal springs were choked up and rendered useless; in short, there was nothing left in the island whichcould furnish support to the enemy’s troops, or which the barbarians could destroy.
Over all these details, and a thousand more besides, D’Aubusson’s watchful superintendence presided; and combining the quick eye of a military commander with the tenderness of a paternal sovereign, he insisted on personally seeing that every individual among the citizens, as well as the knights, was properly provided and cared for; and though he demanded great sacrifices from all, there was nothing of sternness or indifference in his manner of exacting them. Rather he found the means of inspiring all around him with his own heroic and chivalric spirit. The Rhodians were not a warlike people, yet they caught fire from their sovereign’s animating words and noble example. And as to the knights, how could they resist those grand and lofty appeals? “I summon you,” he writes to the absent brethren, “in virtue of those solemn vows you have made to the God of heaven, and at the foot of His altar. It is your mother calls you,—a mother who has nursed you in her bosom, and is now in danger. Shall a single knight be found to abandon her to the rage of the barbarian? I will not think it; it would be unworthy of the nobility of your origin, and still less of the piety and valour of your profession.” He addressed the chapter in the same exalted strain: “Soldiers of Christ,” he said, “in a war so holy as this, it is Christ Himself who is at our head; fear not, for He will never abandon those who fight but for His interests. In vain does the impious Mahomet, who recognises no God but power, threaten to exterminate us: his troops may be more numerous, but ours at least are no vile slaves like his; I look round me, and I see only men of noble and illustrious blood, brought up in virtue, and sworn to conquer or die, and whose piety and courage might alone be the pledges of a certain victory.” In fact, besides the members of the order, there were a considerable number of volunteers collected at Rhodes from all nations, particularly from France: all of themgentlemen of high birth and renown, filled with a generous enthusiasm, and a devotion to the cause of the order and to its heroic chief. Amongst them was D’Aubusson’s elder brother, the Viscount de Monteuil, who received a high command; and throughout the siege no jealousy ever arose between these volunteers and the knights, but rather a generous and friendly rivalry, and a heartiness of obedience and co-operation, that could only have proceeded from the noblest spirit, inspired and kept alive by the admirable policy of the grand master. There was something very remarkable in this affectionate unity of the defenders of Rhodes, presenting so lovely a contrast to the treachery and dissensions of other sieges. “It was to be found,” to use the words of the French author, “in the citizens equally with the knights; Greek and Latin, all were alike; and it passed even to the women and children, who vied with one another in working at the fortifications which D’Aubusson had ordered to be commenced.”
The city of Rhodes stood on the declivity of a wooded hill on the border of the sea; it was surrounded by a double wall flanked by large towers, and beyond the wall was a deep and broad ditch. There were two ports; the first of which, defended by a tower called Fort St. Elmo, served for the smaller galleys, while the second, constructed for larger vessels, had two defences, known as Fort St. John and Fort St. Michael.[13]By the side of this latter port were two small gulfs, the fortifications of which were so contrived as to guard the entrance of the ports. Two miles from the city rose the hill of St. Stephen, and, on the other side, Mount Philermos,[14]celebrated for that shrine of our Lady to which allusion has been made, and which was a place of pilgrimage not only to the islanders but to all the neighbouring states.
It was on the 23d of May 1480, that the great fleet of the infidels at length appeared in sight of Rhodes. The signal of its approach was given from the watch-tower on Mount St. Stephen, and thither the grand master repaired to survey the force destined for the conquest of the island and the destruction of the order. It was a grand and terrific sight; a hundred and sixty large vessels of war, and a very cloud of galleys, feluccas, and transports, having on board a vast body of troops as well as artillery of most formidable size. The sea was darkened for miles by this immense armament; and the landing was soon commenced, under favour of a heavy fire from the enemy’s artillery, with pomp and music, as though they had been victors coming to a conquered city. Despite the efforts of the knights, the hostile troops succeeded in intrenching themselves in the neighbourhood of Mount St. Stephen, and in landing their heavy artillery, consisting of 4000 pieces of cannon, some being of prodigious size and calibre, throwing balls of flint and marble nine palms in diameter, as D’Aubusson himself declares in his despatch to the German emperor, written after the siege. So soon as the artillery was landed and planted,—an operation which the knights were powerless to resist,—the storm of the cannonade began. For days together the walls and towers were battered by cannon and mortars with terrible effect; nine towers were overthrown, and whole streets demolished; but the chief attack was directed against the tower of St. Nicholas, situated on the extremity of the mole which defended the larger port. After resisting the furious bombardment for several days, during which it received the shock of no less than three hundred of these marble cannon-balls, the tower fell, and the sight was welcomed by the enemy with a kind of insane joy. But whilst they abandoned themselves to their exultation, the besieged set to work to construct a new defence on the mole itself, and labouring night and day, contrived a fortification of singular skill in the midst of the ruins, which they garrisoned with theirbravest troops. This defence, devised by the engineering skill of D’Aubusson, resisted the utmost efforts of the Turks, who were driven off, after several furious assaults, with immense loss.
It is sad to find one of the most illustrious names of Christendom at the head of the infidel army; yet it was a Palæologus[15]who, under the name of Mesih Pasha, led the Turkish force. A prince of the imperial family of Greece, and born a Christian, he had renounced his faith to purchase life at the capture of Constantinople. His talents had raised him to the rank of admiral grand vizier in the sultan’s service; and the cause of the Cross had no deadlier enemy than this miserable renegade, who sought to secure the favour of his new master by an excess of fury against the Christian name. Other renegades were in the camp, one of whom, a German engineer, with a treachery worthy of an apostate, entered the town as a spy, and representing himself as a deserter from the Turkish camp, endeavoured to possess himself of the plan of the defences; but D’Aubusson’s quick vigilance detected the stratagem; and “Master George,” as he was called, found himself too closely watched to be able to escape.
The assaults on the mole of St. Nicholas continued for several days; and always on the most dangerouspost might be seen the form of D’Aubusson. At once, captain and soldier, he refused all solicitations to retire. “The post of honour is here,” he replied to Carretto, who afterwards succeeded him, “and belongs of right to your grand master;” adding with a pleasant smile, “and, after all, if I am killed, there is more to hope for you than to fear for me:” words which were afterwards taken as a prophecy of Carretto’s future elevation. A ball having struck his helmet from his head, he quietly replaced it with the steel-cap of a fallen soldier, without seeming to heed the danger. Bosio has left us a striking picture of him during the progress of the defences at St. Nicholas. To complete them, it was necessary for the workmen to labour continuously for seventy hours, during which time a constant watch was kept to guard them from surprise. D’Aubusson never left the spot. “His armour,” says the historian above named, “was gilt or golden, and always kept highly polished and shining; and at the head of his chosen and valiant squadron he sat on his horse the whole night long without moving, or taking a moment’s repose; and the splendour of the moon reflected from that gilt cuirass rendered his figure a clear and striking object.” This long night-watch, and the spectacle of the grand master in his golden armour, has been noticed by almost every historian of the order; and doubtless there must have been something unusually solemn and beautiful in his appearance, which distinguished him from the numbers around him, whose conduct was nevertheless scarcely less devoted than his own.
He had all the true courtesy and modesty of chivalry; listening to the counsel of all, before declaring his own sentiments, which never failed of being received as law; he had a smile and a patient word for all; and yet withal his prompt resolution never suffered itself, when once formed, to be changed or re-considered. And all the while, great general and brave soldier as he was, he found time and strength to be carpenter, engineer,or labourer, as occasion called. He drew the plan of his walls and ramparts, and worked at them with his own hands; nor was there a sally to be made, or an attack to be repelled, but D’Aubusson was to be found at the head of the combatants. Nor was he less the Christian, because he was so entirely a man of genius and of war; his devotion harmonised with the rest of his character in its admirable simplicity. The defence of the city was not begun till after the offering of solemn prayers in all the churches; and then the image of our Lady of Philermos was exposed, and the cause of Rhodes committed to her patronage with something of a childlike trustful confidence; and with our Lady and D’Aubusson to protect them, the Rhodians felt secure of victory.
Foiled in his first attempts, the Pasha now resolved on a night attack, which was to be conducted with such secrecy and despatch, and with such ingenious contrivances to boot, as should secure both a surprise and a successful issue. A bridge was constructed to reach from the mainland which the infidels had occupied to the mole of St. Nicholas; and in the night an anchor was let fall close under the foot of the tower, and the floating pont made fast to it by a strong cable. It happened, however, that a Christian sailor, one Rogers, an Englishman by birth, lying concealed near the spot, had observed the whole transaction; and no sooner had the Turks withdrawn, than plunging intrepidly into the sea, he cut the cable, and drew up the coil upon the strand. Thus was the design entirely frustrated; for the bridge being cast loose from its fastenings, was speedily broken to pieces by the waves. But the pasha had caused a second to be constructed, which, being carried across in the stillness of the night, was made last to the mole two hours before daybreak on the morning of the 9th of June; and while all was yet dark, the Turks began their noiseless passage over it; at the same time, a flotilla of light boats was sent to co-operate on the seaward side. So quietly was themanœuvre effected, and such a perfect silence reigned throughout the Christian defences, that the Turkish commander flattered himself that his design was undetected. But D’Aubusson was ready for him; and while the Turks were preparing to make good their landing on the mole, behind the guns upon the wall stood his resolute cannoneers with matches burning; a steady line of muskets waited but the word to discharge their murderous hail in the faces of the foe; and from every more distant quarter whence the stormers could be reached, the guns on the ramparts had been brought to bear upon the point assailed. Suddenly, from the depth of the darkness there issued a very storm of fire, which canned death and dismay into the midst of the advancing columns. At the same moment the Rhodian fire-ships bore down upon the Turkish galleys; horrible was the confusion;—the roaring of the flames; the incessant cannonading; the fire-balls blazing and flaming; the yells of the combatants; the shrieks and groans of the maimed and the dying. On the mole, on the beaches, on the waters, the battle raged with most terrific fury.
In spite of the tremendous fire poured on them from all sides, the infidels plant their ladders at the foot, and, brandishing their cimeters, scale the bastions. The assault is all along the front; the grand master stands at the breach, and around him his gallant knights, making a rampart with their bodies. The ladders are thrown down, only to be raised again by the determined foe; massive stones and boiling oil and streams of flaming fire are launched upon them,—still they press on; and those who are below in the boats and triremes discharge volley after volley of musketry and showers of arrows from their cross-bows at the knights, or endeavour with grappling-irons, which they throw upon the ramparts, to drag them down and stab them as they fall. The advantage, however, was with the Christians; and dawn disclosed to the Turkish commander the desperate condition of his troops,—the sea and thestrand strewn with corpses, and the attacking columns every where giving way before the steady valour of the Christians. It revealed, too, to the defenders, the floating bridge thronged with Turkish succours hurrying to the assault, and enabled them to point their guns immediately upon it, and shatter it to pieces. From near midnight to ten in the morning the attack and the defence endured with unabated fury; but at length the triumph of the knights was secured; every man who had mounted the mole was killed. In vain with menaces and wild entreaties the leaders urged their troops to sustain the contest; the rout was general and complete; the victorious knights precipitated their flying enemies from the mole, and pursued them even into the waters of the harbour. Conspicuous among the Christian combatants was Anthony Fradin, a Franciscan friar, as bold in fight as he was eloquent of speech, who, plunging shoulder-deep into the sea, with his own right hand struck off many a turbaned head. In this night-assault fell 2500 infidels, and among them their renowned commander, Ibrahim Bey, the sultan’s son-in-law. The loss on the Rhodian side was also great; and twelve of the brave knights of St. John were among the slain.
But this repulse served only to rouse the fury of the vizier to a greater height. Since St. Nicholas had proved impregnable in its ruin, he directed his next attack against the city itself. It was so torn and shaken by the previous cannonade, that, to use the words of D’Aubusson, “it retained not the least resemblance to what it was.” The principal attack, however, was made on a portion of the walls which had remained as yet uninjured, in the Jewish quarter of the town. “Eight tremendous cannon, of the largest size ever seen, ceased not night and day from scourging those groaning flanks;” never for a moment was the hideous roaring of this artillery silenced; but whilst the walls gradually crumbled to pieces, the besieged, under the direction of the grand master, busily employed themselves in erectingnew ramparts behind them, “planting stakes of thick green timber, and covering them with earth and branches of stout tough underwood and thorns,”—a work which it seemed incredible should have been accomplished in so short a time. But every one worked with equal ardour night and day. D’Aubusson superintended all himself, and set the example to the rest by incessant labour; men and women, Christians and Jews,—all lent their aid; the very nuns coming out of their convents, and bearing provision to the workmen; and when the Turks thought they had effected an easy entrance into the place by the destruction of the wall, they were confounded to find a new and stronger rampart, risen as if by magic behind the ruins, and beyond it awide deep ditch, which had to be filled before any approachcould be made. Immense loads of stone were now brought and thrown into the ditch; and meanwhile the cannonade continued its ceaseless roar, accompanied by many other frightful kinds of artillery then in use: globes of fire and flaming arrows, and the serpent-guns that sent fire-balls whining and hissing through the air like deadly flying reptiles. The sound of the artillery was heard from Kos, a hundred miles to the west of Rhodes, as far as Castelrosso, the same distance to the east; the bombardment never ceased for a minute, and the utmost exertions of the citizens were continually called for to extinguish the flames of the burning houses. All the sick and infirm were hidden away in underground cellars and caves to escape those crushing marble balls, which were the most destructive of all the engines of attack. But the war was underground also; and by many a subterranean ditch, most cunningly concealed, did the enemy endeavour to steal into the city, or to ruin its defences. To resist the effect of the ponderous marble balls, D’Aubusson contrived to roof in one quarter of the city so securely, that the women and children were completely sheltered; whilst under his orders, the city carpenters constructed a machine for throwing back theseunwelcome visitors intothe midstof the assailants; and so enormous was their weight, that, we are told, they not only crushed all on whom they fell, but often dashed into and destroyed the mines with all whom they contained. This machine the knights jestingly termed the “tribute,” in allusion to that demanded by Mahomet, and which they devised this novel mode of paying.
Meanwhile the Turks had succeeded in forming a causeway of stones across one portion of the ditch, which it took them eight-and-thirty days to accomplish. Thus they completely filled up the fosse, and raised a mound level with the ramparts, by which they could have readily mounted on the walls; but when they thought their work was finished, they were not a little exasperated to see it sinking and diminishing; for the Rhodians were every night working unperceived at its foundations, and carrying away the stones noiselessly into the city. Perceiving, therefore, that they were losing time, they prepared to storm without delay, and to this end proceeded to cannonade that portion of the walls which was close to the fortifications so rapidly repaired; and such was the tempest that beat upon these new defences, that no living thing could appear on them for a moment without being swept away. In the course of one day and night three hundred of those monstrous globes of rock were hurled at the torn and shattered walls. It was then that the true character of Master George was finally detected. He was known to be an engineer of singular skill;and the knights, under whose charge he had been, and who had not altogether shared in the grand master’s suspicions, led him to the spot to ask his opinion and advice. It may easily be believed what kind of counsel they received; yet, to disguise his treachery, Master George affected the utmost ardour, and insisted on working a cannon with his own hands. In doing so, however, he betrayed himself; the quick eye of his guards remarked that he fired without aim, and, as if by some preconcerted signal, seemed to draw the enemy’s fire on theweakest point. He was at once seized and interrogated, and, confessing the whole design, received the richly-merited reward of his treachery and his crimes. The assault was now evidently close at hand; nothing remained to keep the Turks from the attempt; and it is said a few Spanish and Italian knights ventured to hint at the prudence of coming to honourable terms with the vizier, who, well knowing the character of his opponents’ valour, had shown a disposition to treat for a surrender. D’Aubusson, calling the knights around him, addressed them coldly, as though no longer members of the order. “Gentlemen,” he said,—a term never applied to the knights, who were always addressed as brothers,—“if any of you do not feel secure here, the port is not yet so entirely blockaded but I shall be able to find means for you to retire. If, however, you choose to remain, let me hear no more of surrender, otherwise I shall certainly cause you to be put to death.” These words, and that he called them “gentlemen,” stung them to the quick; they threw themselves at his feet, and declared they were, and would ever be, his knights and subjects.
Nevertheless it could not be denied but that the crisis was one of great peril. So incessant was the cannonading that no time was given to repair the breaches; the fosses were in many parts filled up; the walls were every where in ruins; and no obstacle remained to oppose the entrance of the Turks into the town save the heroic valour of the defenders. Scarcely had the sun appeared above the horizon on the morning of the 27th of July, when, at the firing of a mortar as a signal, the advanced troops of the enemy rushed forward with a tremendous shout, and with the utmost rapidity scaled the walls, bore down all before them, and planted their colours before the besieged could offer any effectual resistance. And now, without prompt relief, it was all over with Rhodes; but that relief came in the person of the grand master. “Perceiving,” such is his own account, “a great conflict at hand, we raised andplanted firmly the banner representing our dear Lord Jesus Christ, and beside it that of our order directly facing the enemy; and then ensued a battle of two hours.” Crying, “Come, my brothers, let us fight for the faith and for Rhodes, or be buried under the ruins,” he hastened to the spot, surrounded by a chosen band of comrades. Already 2000 Turks had occupied the ramparts, and behind them 4000 more were advancing and preparing to mount to the assault. But, nothing daunted, D’Aubusson, seizing a ladder, planted it with his own hands against the wall in spite of a shower of stones, and was the first[16]to mount, pike in hand, followed by the rest of his party. Owing to the character of the ground, and the fact that the Turks had already formed a position on the top of the ramparts, they were now themselves the besieged, and the assault was from the garrison. The valour displayed on both sides was of the most signal description. The Turks, says the historian, “were as lions rushing upon their prey;” the Christians, “like the Machabees, fighting for their religion and their liberties.” The fury of the infidels was well-nigh irresistible; many of the knights were crushed under the weight of the heavy stones which were dashed down upon their heads as they strove to mount the platform which the enemy had occupied. Twice was D’Aubusson himself struck down, and thrown from the ramparts; but, covered with wounds, he returned to the charge without heeding his danger, and at length, by sheer force, the infidels were driven from their position; and the mass of the Christians throwing themselves on their ranks, a desperate struggle commenced. The grand master slew many of the boldest with his own hands; and some 300 or more were tumbled from the walls into the city, where they were instantly slain.
But their losses were quickly supplied by reinforcements from the vast multitude that covered the fieldbelow, so thickly that the eye could not discern the ground on which they stood. And now a body of Janizaries, urged on by the hope of a large reward, charged furiously on the knights, and fought their way to where the grand master stood, his armour flashing in the blaze of the musketry, and the short spear he carried red with Turkish blood. One while he seemed completely surrounded and overpowered by these desperate men; but though wounded in several places, and bleeding profusely, still he held his ground, and laid many of his assailants dead at his feet. His gallant comrades, fearing for his safety, and reckless of their own lives so that they could save that of their beloved commander, threw themselves with renewed energy upon the dense mass of their assailants; and such was the fury of their assault, that “at length,” to resume D’Aubusson’s own description, “the Turks, hard pressed, broken, wearied out, terrified, and covered with wounds, turned and fled, and so hastily that they hindered one another, and did but increase their own destruction. There fell in that conflict 3500 of them, as we learned by the corpses which we afterwards burnt for fear of infection. The panic was contagious, spreading from one rank to another, till at length the whole Moslem army was in flight.” It was indeed a complete and unexpected victory. In vain did the vizier attempt to rally his vast masses, now thrown into all the confusion of a hasty rout. The Christian troops, precipitating themselves from the walls, pursued the fugitives far over the plain; and Mesih Pasha himself was compelled to fly with the rest. “In these battles,” continues D’Aubusson, “we have lost many of our knights, fighting bravely in the thickest of the enemy’s squares. We ourselves, and our companions-in-arms, have had many wounds; but after placing a strong garrison on the ramparts, we returned home to give thanks to God: for surely it was not without Divine assistance that we were saved from butchery; and doubtless the Almighty God sent us that succourfrom heaven, lest His poor Christian people should be infected with the filth of Mahometanism.”
The infidels plainly had reckoned on nothing short of certain victory; their women had already prepared ropes for the prisoners, and wooden stakes for their torture; for it had been ordered that every living being above ten years of age should be slain or impaled alive, and the children sold as slaves. Their cruelty, however, was doomed for once to disappointment: the vizier saw plainly enough, that, after so complete a defeat, there was nothing further to be done but to embark and make the best of his way back to safe quarters, which they did with incredible speed; so that within a few days there was nothing left of their vast armament but the corpses that strewed the battle-field as thick as the forest-leaves in autumn. During the three months of siege the Turks had 9000 killed and 15,000 wounded.
It is a pious tradition, that at the moment of the last terrible assault, as the defenders, reduced to extremity, unfurled the banners of Christ, our Lady, and St. John, and cried aloud to heaven for help, the Moslems were stupefied by the sudden apparition on the battlements of a lady of dazzling and extraordinary beauty, who extended a shield over the devoted city. By her side stood one whom the Rhodians recognised as St. John Baptist, their patron saint; and the heavenly vision struck such terror into the hearts of the assailants that they instantly turned and fled. This account was at the time universally believed by the Rhodians; and the relief of the island has always been reckoned as one among the many victories of Mary. The Turkish historian, Afendy, however, has a different tale, which has been adopted by certain modern writers, that but for the cupidity of Mesih Pasha the forts and the island must have fallen; that at the moment when the Ottoman standard was planted on the walls, he ordered proclamation to be made that pillage was forbidden, and that the rich plunder of Rhodes belonged to thesultan; that so great in consequence was the disgust and indignation of the soldiery, that the storming columns halted in mid-career; the battalions outside the town refused to mount the breach; the Christians seized the moment when the ranks were wavering to precipitate themselves upon the besiegers, and the retreat commenced. One would wish to have something more than the bare word of this writer in support of an account so strongly at variance with Turkish custom, and with the character and real interests of the pasha; but even if it be true, it derogates nothing from the ability or the heroism of the defence; neither, be it added, did the fact, if fact it were, diminish at the time the importance of the event or the magnitude of the result. The outpost of Christendom was saved; Rhodes was rescued for nearly half a century; and when it fell, it was into the hands of a conqueror who knew how to appreciate the courage of a vanquished foe, and, infidel as he was, to keep faith with Christians.
D’Aubusson was carried to his palace covered with wounds, and for three days his life was despaired of. It was in his bed that he received from the hands of his knights the Moslem standard, and gave orders for a public thanksgiving to be rendered to the God of armies. During those three days the palace-doors were crowded by anxious citizens of all ranks; and it is said their joy was less when they watched the last sail of the Turkish fleet disappear below the horizon, than when the surgeon announced to the populace that the danger was past, and, as it was thought, not without tokens of a miraculous cure. So soon as he could walk, D’Aubusson proceeded to the great church of St. John to offer his own thanksgivings; and, as a perpetual monument of the deliverance of the city by the intervention of the Blessed Virgin, he ordered the erection of three churches in her honour and that of the patrons of the city. These churches were endowed for prayers and masses to be offered in perpetuity for the souls of those who had fallen in battle;and one was for the Greek rite: but the expression, “devout Catholics,” which is used by Bosio, shows us that the Greeks to whom he here alluded were in communion with the see of Rome, and not schismatics, as some later writers have supposed.
Nor was his care of the living less large and generous than for the dead. “All, down to the meanest soldier, had a share of his notice,” says Vertot; “and to comfort the poor peasants and the inhabitants of the country which had been devastated by the enemy, he distributed among them corn and provisions for their support till next harvest, and took off for several years the taxes they had hitherto paid.”
The same day that Mesih Pasha was driven from the walls of Rhodes, the Turks, under Ahmed Keduk, first set foot on the tempting shores of Italy, making a successful descent on the Apulian coast, and marched at once to invest Otranto. When grand vizier, he had, in 1475, conquered the Crimea, and signalised his victories by the perpetration of all those outrages which have given to Turkish warfare an infamous celebrity even in the annals of blood and crime. The taking of Kaffa, which belonged to the Genoese, and was a place of great wealth and importance, was marked by a deed of the blackest perfidy. The town held out but three days; on the fourth, through the machinations of one Squerciafico, it surrendered at discretion. The booty was immense; 40,000 of the inhabitants were sent to Constantinople, and 1500 youngGenoese nobleswere compelled to enter the corps of Janizaries. Eight days after the capture, Ahmed Keduk gave a grand banquet to the principal Armenian citizens, who, in concert with the Genoese traitor, had delivered up the town into his hands. At the end of the entertainment their host bade them adieu with all the politeness possible; but a different leave-taking awaited them outside. The door of the banqueting chamber opened on a narrowflight of steps, at the bottom of which was stationed a Turk,scimitar in hand, who, as each guest emerged,severed his headfrom his body. Treachery never fails to inspire contempt even in those in whose service it is practised; and the Ottoman seldom forgave such acts of baseness, although coupled, as was not unfrequently the case, with the crime of apostasy. Squerciafico himself was spared only to be reserved for a like fate at Constantinople.
Otranto speedily fell. The inhabitants defended themselves with great courage, but the town was unprepared, and it was carried by assault after only a fortnight’s resistance. Of the 22,000 who formed the population, 12,000 were slaughtered without mercy; such as it was supposed might furnish a heavy ransom were reduced to slavery; the rest were subjected to treatment, compared with which slavery and death in any form would have been a welcome boon: wives and daughters brutally outraged before their husbands’ and parents’ faces; infants torn from their mothers’ bosoms and dashed against the walls. The commandant, the archbishop, and his clergy, were singled out for the most horrible of all deaths, and sawn asunder. Need it be added, that they who revelled in cruelties so truly diabolical, spared not the altars of God, or the images of the saints, or aught that was holy and venerable? All the awful woes predicted by the Jewish prophets seemed to have come upon the world, and with such particularity and completeness, that it was difficult to see how any fuller accomplishment were possible. It was as if the mystery of iniquity were revealed, and the days of Antichrist had begun.
Despite this triumphant success on the shores of Italy, and the prospects of long-meditated conquest thus opened before him, the failure before Rhodes rankled like a poisoned arrow in the heart of Mahomet. When the news of the defeat of his armament reached the sultan, his fury was unbounded, nay, it may be said to have amounted to madness. None dared present themselves before him, and the vizier was thought to have had a fortunate escape, when he received no greaterchastisement at the tyrant’s hands than disgrace and exile. After the first outburst of rage was over, Mahomet prepared for vengeance. Declaring that his troops were only invincible under his own command, he assembled a force of 300,000 men, whom he led into Asia Minor, designing from thence to fall upon Rhodes, and crush the audacious islanders to the dust. But his hours were numbered; he died at Nicomedia after a brief and sudden sickness, which is said to have been his first; in the frenzy of his rage pouring forth wild and passionate expressions to the last, and shrieking in the very agonies of his death-struggle the words, “Rhodes, Rhodes, Rhodes!” They carried his body to Constantinople, and buried it in the mosque he had founded, and the inscription he had himself dictated on his death-bed was placed over his tomb:
I INTENDED TO CONQUER RHODES AND TOSUBDUE ITALY.