I will now tell you something that will surprise you. Kings in the East expect presents from their visitors. Dadian brought Solyman a dish hollowed out of a ruby of such brilliancy that it would make the road by night as clear as if it were noonday. You will say, ‘I do not believe it.’ For the matter of that, I do not either, and what is more, I do not ask you to believe it. I only tell you there are plenty who do. More knowing people say it is a paten of garnet, and that it wasstolen from a son of the King of Persia, who was wrecked on that coast as he was trying to escape to Constantinople. He likewise brought twenty white falcons, or hawks, which are said to be found in great numbers in Mingrelia. So much for my news about the Mingrelians and their manners.
You ask about my pursuits, and the general routine of my life, and whether I ever go out of my house. Well, I am not in the habit of going out, unless when despatches are received from the Emperor for me to present to the Sultan, or instructions come to remonstrate about the raids made and mischief done by the Turkish garrisons, and this happens only two or three times a year. Were I to express a wish to take a ride occasionally through the city with my keeper, it would in all probability be granted; but I do not care to have this made a favour of, as I want to make them think that my rigorous confinement is no punishment to me. Besides, what pleasure would it give me to ride about with Turks all round me, making their remarks or perhaps venting their abuse on me? The country and the fields are what I enjoy, and not a town; least of all one that is tumbling to pieces, and in which, with the exception of its magnificent site, no relic of its original splendour is left. The former rival of Rome is now crushed beneath the yoke of the most cruel slavery. Who could see this proud city and not pity her fall, while musing over the changes and chances of this fleeting world? Besides, who knows how soon her fate may be ours?
I keep at home, where I hold converse with my old friends, my books. They are at once my companions and my solace. For the sake of my health I have built a tennis-court, where I play before dinner. After dinner I practise the Turkish bow, in the use ofwhich weapon people here are marvellously expert. From the eighth, or even the seventh, year of their age they begin to shoot at a mark, and practise archery ten or twelve years. This constant exercise strengthens the muscles of their arms, and gives them such skill that they can hit the smallest marks with their arrows. The bows they use are much stronger than ours, and being shorter, are also much more handy; they are made not of a single piece of wood, but of the sinews and horns of oxen fastened together with a quantity of glue and tow. A Turk in good practice can easily draw the string of the very stiffest of them to his ear. Without training, however, the strongest man could do nothing with a Turkish bow. Indeed, if a coin be set between the string and the bow close to the notch, none but an adept could pull the string so far as would suffice to liberate the coin. So sure is their aim, that in battle they can hit a man in the eye or in any other exposed part they choose. At the range where they are taught, you may see them shooting with so sure an aim that they surround the white on the target, which is generally smaller than a thaler, with five or six arrows, so that every arrow touches the margin of the white, but does not break it. They seldom use a range of more than thirty feet. On the thumb of the right hand they wear bone rings, on which the bowstring lies when they draw it, and the arrow is kept in its place by holding the left thumb in an upright position and joining it to the forefinger; so that their way of shooting is quite different from ours. The butt they use as a target is raised four feet more or less from the ground, and consists of a wooden frame filled with sand. Pashas and men with large households exercise their servants in this sort of practice at home, the more skilful being told off to act asteachers. Some of them at the feast of Easter194—for the Turks have an Easter (the feast of Bairam) like ourselves—assemble in the great plain beyond Pera, where, squatting on the ground in a line, with their legs crossed in the Turkish manner like tailors, they try who can shoot the furthest. I must mention that the contest, after the usual Turkish fashion, is prefaced by prayer. Great order and silence prevail throughout, however large the number of spectators. On these occasions they use special bows and arrows; the former are very short and stiff, and cannot be bent except by a man who has had a great deal of practice. An embroidered handkerchief, such as we use for wiping our faces, is the winner’s prize. The chief reward, however, is the reputation which the successful archer acquires. The range they attain with their arrows is almost incredible. The point reached by the arrow of the longest shot in the year is marked by a stone. Many such stones set up in former days are still standing, several paces beyond those which are now erected. These they firmly believe are the marks of their ancestors’ shots, to whose strength and skill, by their own admission, they cannot aspire. Moreover, in various streets and piazzas of Constantinople there are ranges of this sort, at which there assemble not merely boys and young men, but also those of more advanced age. A target-keeper is appointed, who has the charge of keeping it in order and watering the butt every day, which otherwise would get so dry that the blunt arrows which they use in practice would not stick in it. It is also the keeper’s business to stand by the target and draw out the arrows, and throw them back to the shooters after cleaning them. In return everyone gives him a fixed fee, which forms his salary.The front of the target is like a small door, from which, perhaps, originated a proverb the Greeks have; when a man has wholly missed the mark, they say ‘he is shooting against a door.’ For I think the Greeks formerly used this sort of target, and the Turks adopted it from them. I am well aware, of course, that the use of the bow is very ancient among the Turks; but that does not seem to me any reason why they should not have gone on using the sort of target and butt which they found in the Greek cities when they took them. For no nation in the world has shown greater readiness than the Turks to avail themselves of the useful inventions of foreigners, as is proved by their employment of cannons and mortars, and many other things invented by Christians. They cannot, however, be induced as yet to use printing, or to establish public clocks, because they think that the scriptures—that is, their sacred books—would no longer bescripturesif they wereprinted, and that, if public clocks were introduced, the authority of their muezzins and their ancient rites would be thereby impaired.
Even in the case of other nations, it is their habit to pay great respect to ancient usages. This principle they carry so far as almost to infringe the precepts of their own religion. Remember, in saying this, I am speaking of the practice of the ordinary Turk. As an example, of course everyone knows that they have not the slightest sympathy with Christian worship, but notwithstanding, as the Greek priests have a custom of opening, as it were, the closed sea at a fixed time in spring by blessing the waters, before which the Greeks are afraid to trust themselves to the waves, even the Turks have some superstitious regard for this ceremony. Accordingly, as soon as they have made their preparations for a voyage, they go to the Greeks,and inquire if the waters have yet been blessed. It they say no, they put off their voyage; if they are answered in the affirmative, they embark and set sail.
It was also a custom among the Greeks that the cave in Lemnos from which is extracted the earth they call ‘goat’s seal,’195should not be opened except on August 6, the feast of the Transfiguration of our Lord. This custom the Turks observe to this very day; and they think it proper that a service should even now be performed there by a priest of the Greek Church in the same manner as it used to be, while they remain at a distance as spectators of the sacred rites in which they cannot join. But if one should ask why they do so, they reply that there exist many customs ordained of yore, the advantage of which is proved by long experience, though the reasons for them are unknown. The ancients, they say, knew more and saw further than they do, and what they had approved of ought not to be abolished. They prefer to keep such customs rather than run the risk of changing them. Some carry this way of thinking so far, that I have known instances of Turks who had their children secretly baptised; their notion being that there must be some advantage in this rite, or otherwise it would never have been instituted.
But, by the way, I must not fail, when speaking of Turkish drill, to mention a very ancient manœuvre which has been handed down from the time of theParthians; namely, for the cavalry to pretend to fly, and to shoot down their unwary enemies when they attempt to pursue. The following is the method by which they acquire the art of rapidly executing this manœuvre. They put a brass ball on the top of a very high pole, erected on level ground, and galloping past it at full speed, they then turn suddenly, and bending back shoot an arrow at the ball, without drawing bridle; and by practising this exercise constantly they acquire such skill, that they can without any difficulty shoot behind them, and send an arrow into their enemy when he least expects it.
But it is time for me to return to our lodging, or my keeper will be angry with me! Whatever time I have left unoccupied by the exercises I mentioned, is spent in reading, or talking with the citizens of Pera, who are Genoese by origin, or with other friends; but for this the cavasses’ leave is necessary. Their temper is indeed somewhat uncertain, but they occasionally have lucid intervals, during which they prove more reasonable. Accordingly, when they are in a good humour, Ragusans, Florentines, Venetians, and sometimes also Greeks, and men of other nations come in numbers, either to pay a visit or on some business. Hither flock also men from yet more distant lands, whose conversation has great attractions for me. A few months ago there came an amber merchant of Dantzic, who had bought up the whole supply of amber. As a great quantity of this article is sent to Turkey, he was very curious to know what it was used for here, or if exported, to what country it was taken. At last he ascertained that it is conveyed into Persia, where it is highly prized, and where they ornament their rooms, cabinets, and shrines with it. He gave me a barrel of the beer they call Juppenbier (sprucebeer), which is certainly capital stuff. But I had a hearty laugh at my Greek and Italian guests, who, having never met with such a beverage, could not find a name for it. At last, as they heard from me that it was good for one’s health, they thought it a kind of medicine, and called it Sirup; and as they kept on asking for ‘a little more of the same mixture,’ by repeated tastings, like the lady in Terence,196they finally finished my barrel at one sitting.
My cavasses are changed from time to time, and sometimes I have the good fortune to have men who are so considerate that they not only would not object to my going out, were I to desire it, but they actually invite me to take a ride. But, as I said, I make a point of refusing to leave my quarters to prevent their thinking that they have it in their power either to gratify or to annoy me. I excuse myself on the plea, that by such a long stay in the house I have grown a piece of the building, so that I can’t be torn away without risk of its falling! I tell them I will go out once for all, when permission shall be granted me to return home! I am glad my household are allowed their liberty, as it may help them to bear their long exile more patiently. In this, however, there is again the inconvenience that quarrels often occur when they meet with drunken Turks, especially if they are unattended by Janissaries; but even if they are at hand, they cannot always prevent blows being exchanged. All this causes me much annoyance, as I am obliged to answer the accusations which are continually trumped up against my people, though I must say that my cavasses in most cases save me the trouble, they are so particular about keeping the gates shut. Of this we had lately an instance, which I must tell you. Therehad been sent to me by the Emperor one Philip Baldi, an Italian, a man of about sixty, who had travelled too fast for a person of that age, and had consequently fallen ill.197When the apothecary brought the clyster the doctor had ordered, the cavasse refused him admittance, and would not allow him to take it to the patient, treating him most uncivilly.
This cavasse had for a long while behaved kindly and courteously towards us, but he suddenly turned savage, and even threatened to beat my visitors with his stick. As I was much annoyed by his conduct, I determined to show him he was wasting his trouble in trying to intimidate us, as if we were a set of children. I ordered one of my servants to keep the door bolted, and to undo it for no one except by my orders. The cavasse came as usual in the morning to open the gates, but, as the key proved useless, he perceived they were bolted inside, and called out to my servant, whom he could see through the chinks between the folding-doors, to let him in. My servant refused, and the cavasse thereupon got angry, and began to abuse him and swear at him. My servant replied, ‘Bluster to your heart’s content; but neither you, nor any of your people shall get in here. Why should I open the door for you any more than you do for us? As you keep us shut in, we will keep you shut out. You may lock the door on the outside as tight as you please; I will take care to bolt it on the inside.’ Then the cavasse asked, ‘Is this done by the Ambassador’s orders?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘But let me at least put my horse in the stable.’ ‘I won’t.’ ‘At any rate give me hayand fodder for him.’ ‘There is plenty to be had in the neighbourhood, if you are willing to pay for it.’ I used to invite this cavasse to dine with me, or send him something from my table; this day, however, his luck was changed, and he was obliged to stay before the gate without breaking his fast, and tie up his horse to the plane-tree which stands opposite. The Pashas and most of the court officials pass this way on their return home from the palace, and when they saw the cavasse’s horse, which they knew well enough by its trappings, munching hay at the foot of the plane-tree, they asked him why he kept it there instead of in the stable, as he usually did? He then told them the whole story; viz., that because he had shut us in, we had shut him out, and not only himself but his horse, and that he got no food and his steed no forage. The story reached the ears of the other Pashas, and caused much laughter. From that time they could no longer doubt how utterly useless it was to lock me up, and with what contempt I treated such petty means of annoyance. Shortly afterwards the cavasse was removed, and the rigour of our confinement was somewhat relaxed.
This occurrence was noticed by Roostem a few days afterwards in a way that deserves to be recorded. A man of reverend years and great reputation for sanctity was paying him a visit, and asked him in the course of their conversation, why, when the discord between the Sultan’s sons was so apparent, and serious disturbances were expected to arise from it, nay were imminent, he did not make a regular peace with the Emperor, and so relieve Solyman of all anxiety in that quarter? Roostem replied, there was nothing he desired better, but how could he do it? The demands I made he could not concede; and, on the other hand,I refused to accept what he offered. ‘Nor does he yield,’ said he, ‘to compulsion. Have I not tried everything to make him agree to my terms? I have now for several years been keeping him immured, and annoying him in many ways, and treating him roughly. But what good am I doing? He is proof against everything. We do our best to keep him in the closest confinement, but not content with our locking him up, he actually bolts himself in. Thus all my labour is in vain; any other man, I believe, sooner than endure these annoyances would ere now have gone over to our religion; but he cares nothing for them.’ This was related to me by people who were present at the conversation.
The Turks are a suspicious nation, and have got it into their heads, that the Ambassadors of Christian princes have different instructions, to be produced or suppressed according to circumstances, and that they first attempt to get the most favourable terms they can, and, if they fail, gradually come down and accede to harder conditions. Consequently they think it is necessary to intimidate them, to flaunt war in their faces, to keep them shut up like prisoners, and to torment them in every way, as the best means of breaking their spirit and making them sooner produce the set of instructions, which specify the minimum they are empowered to accept.
Some think that this notion was much encouraged by the conduct of a Venetian Ambassador, when there was a dispute between the Venetians and Turks about restoring Napoli di Romania to the Sultan.198Theinstructions he had received from the Venetian Senate directed him to do his best to make peace without giving up Napoli, but, if he failed, at last to agree to surrender the town, if he found war to be the only alternative. Now it happened that these instructions were betrayed to the Turks by certain citizens of Venice. The Ambassador, in total ignorance of this, intended to open negotiations by suggesting easier terms, and thus to sound the minds of the Pashas. When they pressed him to disclose all his instructions, he declared that his powers went no further; till at last the Pashas grew furious, and told him to take care what he was about, as their master was not accustomed to be trifled with, and also that he knew right well what his instructions were. Then they repeated accurately in detail the orders he had received from the authorities of Venice, and told him, that ‘If he did not at once produce them all, he would find himself in no small danger as a liar and impostor, while inevitable destruction would await the republic he represented, if his deceit should provoke Solyman’s wrath beyond all appeasing, and cause him to destroy them with fire and sword.’ They warned him that ‘he had not much time for deliberation; if he produced all his instructions, well and good; but if he persevered in his attempt to trifle with them, it would be too late afterwards to talk of peace and express his regret.’ They concluded by saying, that ‘Solyman was no man’s suppliant; since by God’s blessing he had the power to compel.’ The Ambassador knew not what to do, andthinking it useless to attempt to conceal what was perfectly well known, made a clean breast of it, and frankly confessed that what they stated as to his instructions was correct. This misadventure, however, made him very unpopular at home. From that time the Turks seem to have become much more suspicious, thinking it impolitic to enter into negotiations with an ambassador until his spirit is broken by long confinement. It was on this account that Veltwick,199the ambassador of the Emperor Charles, was detained by them for eighteen months, and my colleagues for more than three years, and then dismissed without having accomplished anything. On me they have been putting pressure for a long time, as you know, and as yet I can see no prospect of my release.
But when Baldi, whom I was speaking of, arrived, the age of the messenger made them suspect that he brought fresh instructions, allowing us to accept harder conditions of peace, and these they were afraid of my misrepresenting on account of my knowledge of their domestic troubles. They thought it therefore politic to treat me with greater rigour, as the best means of making me produce forthwith the real instructions I had last received. For the same reason Roostem tried to intimidate me with threats of war, which he hinted at by the following pleasantry. What does he do but send me a very large pumpkin of the kind we call ‘Anguries,’ and the Germans ‘Wasser Blutzer’ (water-melons). Those grown at Constantinople are of excellent flavour, and have red seeds inside; they are called Rhodian melons because they come from Rhodes. They are good for allaying thirst when the weather is very hot. A great round one was sent meby Roostem through my interpreter, one very hot day, with the following message: ‘He hoped I should like a fruit which suited the season; there was no better antidote for the heat; but he wished me also to know that at Buda and Belgrade they had great store of such fruit, and indeed some larger specimens of it,’ by which he meant cannon balls. I sent back word that I was much obliged for his present and should enjoy it, but that I was not surprised at what he said about Buda and Belgrade, as there were at Vienna plenty of specimens of the fruit quite as big as the one he sent me. I made this answer because I wished Roostem to understand that I had noticed the point of his jest.
Now it is time I should relate the story of Bajazet, about which you especially beg for information.200Doubtless you remember the circumstances under which Bajazet parted from his father a few years ago. He was pardoned on condition that he should not again make any movement against his brother or excite fresh disturbances, but should remain at peace and on friendly terms with him, as a brother ought to do.201‘Let him,’ said the Sultan, ‘remember the pledges he has given me, nor further disquiet my declining years. Anothertime I will not let him go unpunished.’ These warnings influenced Bajazet for a time, but only as long as his mother survived; indeed, he placed but little confidence on his brother’s affection or his father’s feelings towards him, and relied entirely on the love his mother bore him, and being anxious not to alienate her, he remained quiet during her lifetime. But, when she died two years afterwards, thinking that his case was desperate, and that he was no longer bound by any tie of filial duty, he began to resume his former designs, and to prosecute his old quarrel against his brother with more bitterness than ever. At one time he plotted secretly against his life, at another used open violence, and often sent his troops to make forays into his brother’s government, which bordered on his own, and if he could catch any of his servants he sentenced them to heavy punishments, intending thereby to insult their master; in short, as he could not strike at his brother’s life, he left nothing undone which he thought would impair his prestige.
At Constantinople he had some devoted partisans, and through them he tried to tamper with the Sultan’s bodyguard by every means in his power, and on some occasions he even ventured to cross over to Constantinople himself,202concealing himself there among his accomplices and the men of his party.
The progress of the conspiracy was no secret to Solyman, who, besides his other channels of information, received accurate intelligence from Selim, who wrote despatches from time to time, warning his father to be on his guard against attack. ‘The Sultan was mistaken,’ said Selim, ‘if he thought that the impious designs which Bajazet was now rehearsing were not ultimately aimed at his own person. Bajazet caredneither for God nor man, provided he could reach the throne. His father was as great a barrier as his brother to the accomplishment of his ambitious hopes. Attacks on himself were aimed at Solyman’s life, a crime which Bajazet had planned long ago, and had lately been trying to carry into execution. He begged the Sultan to take care he did not fall a victim to these plots, and find himself a prisoner before news of his danger could be received or help sent to him. As to the personal wrongs he received from Bajazet, he could afford to disregard them, but he was troubled at the greatness of his father’s peril.’
By such insinuations fresh fuel was continually added to Solyman’s wrath against Bajazet. Accordingly he wrote letters reminding him of his duty, of the clemency with which he had treated him, and of his promises to himself, and bade him remember what he had said on a former occasion, viz., that he would not always find pardon, that he ought to turn over a new leaf, and not persist in provoking his brother and annoying his father.203He added that he had but a short span of life left himself, and when he was dead Providence would determine what their several lots should be. In the meantime they should keep quiet, if they had any regard for the peace of their father and their country. But such arguments were all thrown away upon Bajazet, who had made up his mind to hazard everything rather than take the other alternative, and tamely wait till the time came for him to be butchered like a sheep, which would most assuredly be his fate, if Selim ascended the throne.
He replied, however, to his father’s commands in becoming terms, but his deeds did not correspond tohis words, nor did he swerve in the least from the line of conduct he had resolved on.
When Solyman saw this, he felt that other measures were necessary, and that he must not allow his sons to remain so near each other. Accordingly he issued orders that before a certain day each should leave his government (Bajazet was Governor of Kutaiah, Selim of Magnesia), and that Bajazet should go to Amasia and Selim to Koniah. No fault could be found with Selim, and his favour with his father was unimpaired, but to prevent Bajazet from being hurried into rebellion, Solyman wished to make it appear that they were both being treated alike. In giving these orders he observed that the further apart they were in actual distance the closer they would be in spirit. Vicinity, he added, was often prejudicial to union, many faults being committed on both sides by mischievous officers and servants, the effect of which was to cause great irritation on the part of their masters. Let both of them be obedient to his commands. If either should hesitate to obey, he would expose himself to a charge of treason.
Selim made no delay, inasmuch as he knew that these orders were given chiefly in his interest. Bajazet kept making excuses, and halted after proceeding a short distance. He complained that he had been given the government of Amasia, that town of evil omen, which was still reeking with his brother’s blood,204and said that he would be contented with any other government whatever, in place of that, in which the miserable end of his kinsfolk would ever be forcing itself on his eyes, and wounding his heart with its sad recollections. He asked that he might at least be permitted to pass the winter where he was, or atany rate in the place which his brother had left. To these remonstrances Solyman paid no attention; and Selim had already proceeded some days’ march with the troops, which his father had given him as an escort to protect him against any attack on the part of his brother, while Bajazet was still delaying and hesitating, when he suddenly turned and retraced his steps, and then making a circuit appeared in his brother’s rear, moving on Ghemlik, a Bithynian town, on the Asiatic coast opposite Constantinople. For this step he had the sanction of his father, who did not like Bajazet’s procrastination, for both father and son were alarmed at the thought of what might be the consequence both to the empire and themselves, if Bajazet should win over the Imperial guards and march on Ghemlik or even on Constantinople. As they were both threatened, the safest course seemed to be for Selim to take up such a position as would enable them to support each other. Selim had not as yet sufficient strength to make him certain of defeating his brother, who was now ready for any desperate step.
When Bajazet saw Selim in his rear, he felt that the only result of his own delay had been to ensure his brother’s succession to the throne, whenever his father should be carried off, an event which might be expected any day, as the Sultan’s health, which was generally bad, was at that time worse than usual. Accordingly he sent letters to his father, in which he accused his brother; he told him that Selim could have given no stronger proof of his undutiful and disloyal intentions than his march to Ghemlik; to which no other object could be assigned than an attempt on the throne, as it was a place from which he would have but a short passage to Constantinople, if he received the news he wished for, informing him of his father’s death.But if his father’s life should be prolonged, and the fulfilment of his wishes thus deferred, he would not hesitate to employ his tools for the attainment of his object, and would ascend the throne over his father’s murdered body. In spite of all this he could not help seeing that Selim, villain as he was, was his father’s darling, and was treated as if he were a pattern son; while he on the other hand, though he had always been a good son, and had never dreamt of such undutiful conduct, nay, more, had always strictly observed every indication of his father’s wishes, was nevertheless scorned and rejected. All that he requested was permission to decline a government, the traditions of which boded ill to its possessor. Next he had recourse to entreaties, and again implored his father to consent to his being appointed to a different government, whether it were the one his brother had left, or any other, provided it had not the dark history of Amasia. He concluded by saying he would wait for an answer to his petition at the place where he had halted, that he might not have further to return should his wish be granted, but if he should not obtain what he asked, he would then go wherever his father might order.
The complaints Bajazet made about Amasia were not altogether unreasonable, for the Turks are in the habit of forecasting important matters from trifling incidents. But this was not the view that Solyman took, for he knew what value to attach to his son’s bemoanings, and was convinced that his object was to obtain a situation more convenient for making a revolution, Amasia being too far from Constantinople. Thus Bajazet, pleading one excuse after another for delay, put off the hour for obeying his father’s wishes as long as he could, and went on increasing his forcesby enlisting recruits, arming them, and raising money—in short, he made every preparation for defending himself and attacking his brother. These preparations were regarded by Solyman as directed against himself, but, nevertheless, he passed them over for the most part in silence. The cautious old man did not wish to render Bajazet desperate and thus drive him into open rebellion. He was well aware that the eyes of the world were fixed on the quarrel between his sons, and he was therefore anxious that these troubles should be left to the influence of time, and be allowed to die out as quietly as possible. He therefore replied to Bajazet in gentle language, saying, ‘He could make no change about the government, his decision on that point was final. They ought both to obey his commands and repair to their respective posts. As to the future he bade them be of good hope, as he would take care that everything should be so regulated as to prevent either of them having any ground for just complaints.’
Pertau, the fourth of the Vizierial Pashas, was selected to convey these commands to Bajazet, and to keep up an appearance of impartiality, Mehemet, the third of the Vizierial Pashas, was despatched to Selim with the same orders. Both were instructed not to leave the Princes before they reached their respective governments, as Solyman prudently intended to attach these important officers to his sons in order that they might be kept in mind of their duties. This Selim was ready to allow, but Bajazet refused, for, as his intention was to bring about a general revolution, he thought there could be no greater obstacle to his designs than to have one of his father’s counsellors ever at his side to criticise his words and actions. He therefore addressed Pertau courteously, and having given him such presents as he could, compelled him toreturn, in spite of his remonstrances, saying, that he wished to employ him as his defender and advocate with his father, as he had no one else to plead for him. He told him that he would not prove an ungrateful or a discreditable client. Further, he bade him tell his father that he would always regard his commands as law, if Selim would let him, but that he could not bear any longer the outrages of his brother, and his attacks upon his life.
The dismissal of Pertau in this manner made Solyman sure of his son’s intentions. Though Bajazet, to prevent the mission to him appearing to have been wholly ineffectual, kept pretending that he was on his way to Amasia, Solyman was not deceived, and continued to make his preparations for war with undiminished activity. He ordered the Beyler-bey of Greece, although he was suffering from an attack of gout, to hurry with his cavalry to Selim’s assistance, and on Mehemet Pasha’s return from his mission he despatched him into Asia with the most trusty of the Imperial guard on the same service. He also made his own preparations, and wished to make it appear that he was about to take the field in person, but the Imperial guard gathered to their standards with hesitation and reluctance, loathing a war between brothers as an accursed thing. ‘Against whom were they to draw their swords?’ they asked; ‘Was it not against the heir of the empire himself?’ ‘Surely,’ they argued, ‘some alternative might be found instead of plunging into war; it could not be necessary to compel them to dip their hands in the blood of their comrades, and to incur the guilt of slaughtering their fellow-soldiers. As to Bajazet’s attempts, they were, in their opinion, justified by the emergency.’
When these speeches reached Solyman’s ears hesubmitted the following questions to his Mufti, who, as you doubtless remember, is the chief authority among the Turks in religious matters, and like the oak of Dodona205is consulted in cases of difficulty. ‘First, how ought he to treat a man who in his own lifetime raised men and money, attacked and captured towns, and troubled the peace of the empire? Secondly, what was his opinion of those who joined his standard, and assisted him in such an enterprise? Finally, what he thought of those who refused to take up arms against him, and justified his acts?’ The Mufti replied, ‘That such a man and his partisans, in his judgment, merited the severest punishment; and that those who refused to bear arms against him were wicked men, who failed to support their religion, and therefore deserved to be branded as infamous.’ This reply was made public, and transmitted through the chief of the cavasses to Bajazet.
A few days afterwards there returned to Constantinople a cavasse, who had been sent to Selim by Solyman, and had been captured on the way by Bajazet. By him he sent word to his father, that he had violated no obligation demanded by filial duty, he had never taken up arms against him, and was ready to obey his commands in everything. The quarrel was one between his brother and himself, and life and death depended on the issue of the struggle, as eitherhe must fall by his brother’s sword or his brother by his. That both should survive was an impossibility. He had determined to bring matters to a conclusion, one way or the other, in his father’s lifetime; therefore he called on Solyman not to interfere in their contest, and to remain neutral. But if, as was rumoured, he should cross the sea to go to Selim’s assistance, he warned him not to hope that he would find it an easy task to get him into his power, as he had secured for himself a refuge in case of defeat. The moment Solyman set foot on the soil of Asia, he would lay the country waste with fire and sword as mercilessly as Tamerlane. Such a message caused Solyman no small anxiety. At the same time news arrived that the town of Akschehr, which was governed by Selim’s son as Sanjak-bey, had been taken by Bajazet, and, after a large sum of money had been exacted, had been ruthlessly sacked.
But when Selim, who had been afraid of his brother’s lying in wait for him on the road, heard that he was on his way to Amasia, and had already reached Angora, his suspicions were relieved, and he rapidly marched on Koniah,206which was held for him by a garrison which had been thrown into it. For not the least of the anxieties which racked Solyman’s mind was, lest Bajazet should seize Koniah, and so make his way into Syria, and thence invade Egypt, a province which was open to attack and of doubtful loyalty, and which, having not yet forgotten the ancient empire of the Circassians or Mamelukes, was eager for a revolution.207Should Bajazet once establish himself there it would not be an easy task to dislodge him, especially as the neighbouring Arabs would readily adopt any cause which held out prospects of booty. From Egypt too if he were hard pressed, all the coasts of Christendom were within easy reach. For this reason Solyman took the utmost pains to bar the road which might be expected to be Bajazet’s last resource, orders having already been given to several of the governors in Asia Minor to hold themselves in readiness to take the field when Selim should give the signal. At the time of which I am now speaking, Selim had called them out and had encamped before the walls of Koniah, anxiously watching his brother’s movements. He determined to wait there for his fathers reinforcements, and not by a premature engagement to expose his life to the hazard of a battle.
Bajazet, on the other hand, was keenly alive to the magnitude of the enterprise he had undertaken. He had hired a body of Kurdish horsemen, who are,probably, descendants of the ancient Gordiæans.208They have a great reputation for valour, and Bajazet felt confident that their assistance would ensure the success of his arms. The day they arrived at his camp they went through a sham fight on horseback, which was so like reality that several of them were slain, and more were wounded. He pitched his camp in the open country, near Angora, so as to have at his command the ample resources of that important town. In the citadel he placed his concubines with their children. From the wealthier of the merchants he raised a loan, on the terms of repaying them with interest if Providence should crown his hopes with success. From the same source he obtained the means of equipping and arming his forces. He had, after the fashion of Turkish nobles, a numerous retinue of servants; these were reinforced by the Kurds I mentioned, and by men whose interests had been advanced by his mother, his sister, or Roostem. To them were added many of the surviving retainers of Mustapha and Achmet, brave and experienced soldiers, who burned to risk their lives in avenging the cruel murders of their masters. Nor was there wanting a motley following of men, who were discontented with their actual condition, and were eager for a change. The motive of some was compassion for the unfortunate Bajazet, whose only remaining hope lay in an appeal to arms. They were attracted to the young man by his looks, which strongly resembled his father’s; while, on the other hand, Selim was totally unlike the Sultan, and inherited the face and manner of his unpopular mother. In gait he waspompous, in person he was corpulent, his cheeks were unnaturally red and bloated; amongst the soldiers he was nick-named ‘The stalled ox.’ He lived a lazy life, at the same time a sluggard and a sot. In the smaller courtesies of life he was singularly ungracious; he never did a kindness and he never gained a friend. He did not wish, he said, to win the favour of the people at the expense of his father’s feelings. The only man that loved him was his father. Everyone else hated him, and none so much as those whose prospects depended on the accession of a generous and warlike Sultan. The soldiers had been wont to call Bajazet Softi, which means a studious and quiet person, but when they saw him take up arms and prepare to fight to the uttermost for his own and his children’s preservation, they respected his courage and admired his conduct. ‘Why had the father,’ they murmured, ‘disowned a son who was the living image of himself? Why had he preferred to him that corpulent drone, who showed not a trace of his father’s character? To take up arms was no crime, when nothing else would serve the turn. ‘Twas nothing worse than what Selim, their grandfather, had done.209That precedent would cover everything, as he had not only taken up arms against his brother, but also had been compelled by the force of circumstances to hasten his father’s end. Dreadful as the crime was to which he had been driven, still, by it he had won the empire for his son and grandsons. But if Solyman stood rightfully possessed of an empire, which had been won by such means, why should his son be debarred from adopting the same course? Why should that be so heavily punished in his case which Heaven itself had sanctioned in his grandfather’s? Nay, the conduct of Selim wasfar worse than that of his grandson Bajazet; the latter had taken up arms, but not to hurt his father; he had no desire for his death; he would not harm even his brother, if he would but let him live, and cease from injuring him. It had ever been held lawful to repel force by force. What fault could be found with a man for endeavouring to save himself from ruin when it stared him in the face?’
Such were the sentiments that made men daily flock to the standard of Bajazet. When his forces had well nigh attained the size of a regular army, Bajazet felt that he must forthwith attack his brother, and stake life and empire on the issue of the contest. That he might be defeated he was well aware, but even in defeat he felt that honour might be gained. Accordingly, he marched directly against Selim. His object was to effect a passage into Syria; if this should prove successful, the rest, he was confident, would be easy. Selim, having, with the assistance of his father, completed his armaments, awaited his brother under the walls of Koniah. He had large forces, and a numerous staff of experienced officers, who had been sent by the Sultan, and his position was strengthened by well-placed batteries of artillery.
By all this Bajazet was not one whit dismayed; when he came in sight of the enemy he addressed a few words of encouragement to his men, telling them to fight bravely. ‘This,’ he declared, ‘was the hour they had longed for, this was the opportunity for them to prove their valour. Courage on that day should secure a fortune at his hands. It rested with them to win or forfeit everything. Everyone who was discontented with his lot had now an opening for exchanging his former poverty for wealth and honour. They might expect from him, if they conquered, dignities, riches,promotion, and all the rewards that valiant men deserve. However extravagant their hopes, let them win this one victory, and those hopes should be satisfied. They had abundant means of gaining it in their gallant hearts and stout arms. Before them stood only his brother’s following, cowards more debased than their cowardly leader; it was through the ranks of these poltroons his men must cleave their way. As for his father’s troops, thoughin bodythey stood with his brother,in heartthey were on his side. If Selim were out of the way, his safety was assured, and their fortunes were made; let them go and avenge themselves on the common enemy. Let them not fear,’ he repeated, ‘the multitude of their foe. Victory was won not by numbers but by valour. Heaven was on the side, not of the larger, but the braver army. If they bore in mind how cruel and how eager for their blood was the enemy they were to encounter, victory would not be hard to gain. Last of all’ said he, ‘I wish you to regard not my words but my deeds. Take my word for it, the day is yours, if you fight for my life, as you see me fighting for your profit.’
Having addressed his troops in such terms, he boldly ordered them to attack the enemy. He led the charge in person, and on that day proved himself alike a gallant soldier and a skilful leader, winning, by the courage he displayed, as much admiration from foes as from friends. The battle was fierce and bloody; for a long time neither party could gain any decisive advantage; at last victory inclined to the side which was stronger in arms, stronger in right, and stronger in generalship. Selim’s troops also received supernatural assistance, if one may believe the Turkish story, for they aver that a great blast came from the shrine of one of their ancient heroes, which stood hardby,210and carried the dust into the faces of Bajazet’s soldiers, darkening the atmosphere and blinding their eyes. After great losses on both sides, Bajazet was obliged to give the signal for retreat, but he retired slowly and without disorder, as if he had won a victory instead of having sustained a defeat. Selim made no attempt to pursue. He was perfectly satisfied with the success he had gained in repelling his brother’s troops, and remained in his position as a quiet spectator of the retreating enemy.211
Bajazet had now committed an act of direct disobedience to his father’s orders, he had given the rein to his own inclinations, and he had been unsuccessful. He abandoned his project of marching into Syria, and set out for Amasia in good earnest.
About this time Solyman crossed into Asia, having, it is asserted, received news of the result of the battle in a marvellously short space of time. The Pashas held it to be impolitic for the Sultan to cross until intelligence of Bajazet’s defeat should be received, but at the same time were of opinion, that when news of it arrived no time ought to be lost, lest Bajazet’s misfortunes should provoke his secret partisans to declare themselves, and thus greater troubles ensue. They argued that nothing would be more effectual than the report of his crossing for cowing Bajazet and terrifying his friends. The victory, they urged, should be improved, and no opportunity be given to the prince of rallying from the blow he had received, lest he should follow in the steps of Selim, Solyman’s father,who became more formidable after defeat than ever he was before, and owed his final victory, in no small measure, to his previous failure.
The Pashas were perfectly correct in their view of the situation. For though Bajazet had been defeated, his conduct in the field marvellously increased his popularity and reputation. People spoke of how he had ventured with a handful of men to encounter the superior forces of his brother, supported as they were by all the resources of the Sultan. The strength of his brother’s position, and his formidable array of artillery, had failed to daunt him, while in this, his first field, his conduct would not have shamed a veteran general. Though fortune had not favoured him, yet he was the hero of the battle. Selim might go to his father, and vaunt his triumph, but what then? True, he hadwonit, but Bajazet haddeservedit. To whatever cause Selim’s victory was due, it was certainly not to his valour that he was indebted for his success.
Such was the common talk, the effect of which was to increase Bajazet’s popularity, and at the same time to make his father more anxious than ever. His hatred was inflamed, and he began to long for his destruction. His determination remained unaltered. Selim was the elder, and had ever been a dutiful and obedient son, and he and no one else should be his heir; while Bajazet, who had been a disobedient son and had endeavoured to supplant him on the throne, was the object of his aversion. He was well aware that the peril of the situation was increased by the reputation Bajazet had gained, and the open support which he himself had given to Selim. For these reasons he had crossed the sea: his object was to give moral support to Selim by his presence in Asia, but he had no intention of marching up the country. Hecould not trust his troops, and if he ventured to lead them to the scene of action, they might at any moment declare for Bajazet.
He left Constantinople June 5, 1559, on which occasion, in spite of my cavasse, I managed to be among the spectators. But why should I not tell you of my two skirmishes after the fashion of theMiles Gloriosusof Plautus? At any rate, I have nothing better to do, unless worry counts for work. Under such circumstances letter-writing is a relief.
When it became generally known that the Sultan was about to cross the sea, and the day was fixed, I intimated to the cavasse my wish to see the Sultan’s departure. It was his habit to take charge of the keys every evening, so, when the time came, I bade him attend me early in the morning and let me out. To this he readily agreed. My Janissaries and interpreters, by my orders, hired for me a room commanding a view of the street by which the Sultan was to pass. When the day came I was awake before daybreak, and waited for the cavasse to open the gates. Time passed and he did not come. So I availed myself of the services of the Janissaries who slept at my gate and the interpreters who were waiting to obtain admittance, and despatched messenger after messenger to fetch the cavasse. I had, by the way, to give my orders through the chinks of the crazy old gates. The cavasse kept putting me off with excuses, at one time saying he was just coming, and at another that he had business which hindered him. Meanwhile it was getting late, and we knew, by the salutes fired by the Janissaries, that the Sultan had mounted his steed. Hereupon I lost patience, for I saw that I was being humbugged. Even the Janissaries on guard were sorry for my disappointment, andthought that I had been treated scurvily; so they told me that, if my people would push from the inside while they pulled from the outside, it would be possible to burst the locks of the gate, which was old and weak. I approved of the plan; my people pushed with a will, and the gate gave way. Out we rushed, and made for the house where I had hired a room. The cavasse had intended to disappoint me, not that he was a bad sort of fellow, but when he had informed the Pashas of my wishes they had refused consent, not liking that a Christian should be among the spectators on such an occasion. They did not wish me to see their Sovereign on his march against his son and at the head of a mere handful of troops, so they recommended him to put me off by courteous promises till the Sultan had embarked, and then to invent some excuse, but the trick recoiled on its author.
When we arrived at the house we found it barred and bolted, so that we had as much difficulty in getting in, as we had just had in getting out! When no one answered our knocks, the Janissaries came to me again, and promised, if I would undertake the responsibility, either to break open the doors or climb in through a window and let us in. I told them not to break in, but did not object to their entering by a window. In less time than I can tell it they were through the window, and had unbarred the doors. When I went upstairs, I found the house full of Jews, in fact, a regular synagogue. At first they were dumbfoundered, and could not make out how I had passed through bolts and bars! When the matter was explained, a well-dressed elderly lady, who talked Spanish, came up and took me roundly to task for breaking into the house. I rejoined that I was the aggrieved party, and told her that the landlady ought to have kept her bargain, and not tried tofool me in this way. Well, she would have none of my excuses, and I had no time to waste on words.
I was accommodated with a window at the back of the house, commanding a view of the street by which the Sultan was to pass. From this I had the pleasure of seeing the magnificent column which was marching out. The Ghourebas and Ouloufedgis rode in double, and the Silihdars and Spahis in single file. The cavalry of the Imperial guard consists of these four regiments, each of which forms a distinct body, and has separate quarters.212They are believed to amount to about 6,000 men, more or less. Besides these, I saw a large force, consisting of the household slaves belonging to the Sultan himself, the Pashas, and the other court dignitaries. The spectacle presented by a Turkish horseman is indeed magnificent.213His high-bred steed generally comes from Cappadocia or Syria, and its trappings and saddle sparkle with gold and jewels in silver settings. The rider himself is resplendent in a dress of cloth of gold or silver, or else of silk or velvet. The very lowest of them is clothed in scarlet,violet, or blue robes of the finest cloth. Right and left hang two handsome cases, one of which holds his bow, and the other is full of painted arrows. Both of these cases are curiously wrought, and come from Babylon, as does also the targe, which is fitted to the left arm, and is proof only against arrows or the blows of a mace or sword. In the right hand, unless he prefers to keep it disengaged, is a light spear, which is generally painted green. Round his waist is girt a jewelled scimitar, while a mace of steel hangs from his saddle-bow. ‘What are so many weapons for?’ you will ask. I reply for your information, that he is trained by long practice to use them all. You will ask again, ‘How can a man use both bow and spear? will he seize the bow after he has cast or broken his spear?’ Not so; he keeps the spear in his grasp as long as he can, but when circumstances require that it should be exchanged for the bow, he thrusts the spear, which is light and handy, between the saddle and his thigh, so that the point sticks out behind, and by the pressure of his knee keeps it in this position for any length of time he chooses. But when he has need of the spear, he puts the bow into its case, or slings it on his left arm across his shield. It is not, however, my object to explain at length their skill in arms, which is the result of long service and constant drilling. The covering they wear on the head is made of the whitest and lightest cotton-cloth, in the middle of which rises a fluted peak of fine purple silk. It is a favourite fashion to ornament this head-dress with black plumes.
When the cavalry had ridden past, they were followed by a long procession of Janissaries,214but few of whom carried any arms except their regular weapon,the musket. They were dressed in uniforms of almost the same shape and colour, so that you might recognise them to be the slaves, and as it were the household, of the same master. Among them no extraordinary or startling dress was to be seen, and nothing slashed or pierced.215They say their clothes wear out quite fast enough without their tearing them themselves. There is only one thing in which they are extravagant, viz., plumes, head-dresses, &c., and the veterans who formed the rear guard were specially distinguished by ornaments of this kind. The plumes which they insert in their frontlets might well be mistaken for a walking forest. Then followed on horseback their captains and colonels, distinguished by the badges of their rank. Last of all, rode their Aga by himself. Then succeeded the chief dignitaries of the Court, and among them the Pashas, and then the royal body-guard, consisting of infantry, who wore a special uniform and carried bows ready strung, all of them being archers. Next came the Sultan’s grooms leading a number of fine horses with handsome trappings for their master’s use. He was mounted himself on a noble steed; his look was stern, and there was a frown on his brow; it was easy to see that his anger had been aroused. Behind him came three pages, one of whom carried a flask of water, another a cloak, and the third a box. These were followed by some eunuchs of the bed-chamber, and the procession was closed by a squadron of horse about two hundred strong.
Having had a capital view of the whole spectacle, which I thoroughly enjoyed, my only anxiety was to appease my hostess. For I heard that the lady, who had addressed me in Spanish at my entrance, wason very intimate terms with Roostem’s wife, and I was afraid that she might tell tales about me in his family, and create an impression that I had not behaved as I ought. I invited my hostess to an interview, and reminded her of her breach of contract in bolting the door in my face, when she had for a fixed sum agreed to leave it open; but told her that, however little she might have deserved it, I intended to keep my part of the engagement, though she had neglected hers, and not only to pay her in full, but to give her a little extra douceur as well. I had promised seven pieces of gold, and she should receive ten, to prevent her regretting my having forced my way into her house. When she saw her hand filled with more gold than she had hoped for, she suddenly altered her tone, and overwhelmed me with thanks and civilities, while the rest of her Hebrew friends followed suit. The lady also, whom I mentioned as being intimate with Roostem’s family, echoing the praises of my hostess, thanked me profusely in her name. Some Cretan wine and sweetmeats were then produced for my refreshment. These I declined, and hurried home as fast I could, followed by the good wishes of the party, planning as I went a fresh battle with my cavasse, to whom I should have to answer for having broken open the doors in his absence.
I found him sitting disconsolately in the vestibule, and he at once assailed me with a long complaint, saying, I ought not to have gone out without his consent or have broken the doors. He declared that it was a breach of the law of nations, &c. I answered shortly that had he chosen to come in time, as he had promised, there would have been no need for me to burst the doors; and I made him understand that it was all his fault for not keeping his word, and for trifling withme. I concluded by asking whether they considered me an ambassador or a prisoner? ‘An ambassador,’ he answered. ‘If a prisoner,’ I rejoined, ‘it is useless employing me to make peace, as a prisoner is not a free agent; but if you consider me an ambassador, why am I not at liberty? Why am I prevented leaving my house when I please? It is usual,’ I repeated, ‘for prisoners to be kept shut up, but not for ambassadors. Indeed the freedom of ambassadors is a right recognised by the law of nations.’ I told him also to remember that he had been attached to me, not as a jailor or policeman, but, as he was always saying himself, to assist me by his services, and to take care that no injury was done to myself or my servants. He then turned to the Janissaries, and began quarrelling with them for giving me advice, and helping my men to open the doors. They said that I had not needed their advice, I had ordered them to open the doors and they had obeyed. They told him, with perfect truth, that in doing this but little exertion had been required, as the bars had given way under very slight pressure, and that nothing had been broken or injured. Thus the cavasse’s remonstrances were stopped whether he would or no, and nothing more was heard of the matter.
A few days later I was summoned across the sea myself. They considered it politic that I should pass some time in their camp, and be treated courteously as the ambassador of a friendly prince. Accordingly, a very comfortable lodging was assigned me in a village adjoining the camp. The Turks were encamped in the neighbouring fields. As I stayed there three months, I had opportunities of visiting their camp, and making myself acquainted with their discipline. You will hardly be satisfied if I do not give you a fewparticulars on the subject. Having put on the dress usually worn by Christians in those parts, I used to sally out incognito with one or two companions. The first thing that struck me was, that each corps had its proper quarters, from which the soldiers composing it were not allowed to move. Everywhere order prevailed, there was perfect silence, no disturbances, no quarrels, no bullying; a state of things which must seem well nigh incredible to those, whose experience is limited to Christian camps. You could not hear so much as a coarse word, or a syllable of drunken abuse. Besides, there was the greatest cleanliness, no dunghills, no heaps of refuse, nothing to offend the eyes or nose. Everything of the kind is either buried or removed out of sight. Holes are dug in the ground, as occasion requires, for the use of the men, which are again filled in with earth. Thus the whole camp is free from dirt. Again, no drinking parties or banquets, and no sort of gambling, which is the great fault of our soldiers, are to be seen. The Turks are unacquainted with the art of losing their money at cards and dice.
A little while ago I came across some soldiers from the borders of Hungary, amongst whom was a rough fellow, who, with a woe-begone face, sang or rather howled, to the accompaniment of a melancholy lyre, a lugubrious ditty, purporting to be the last words of a comrade dying of his wounds in a grassy meadow by the bank of the Danube. He called upon the Danube, as he flowed to the country of his kinsfolk, to remember to tell his friends and clansmen that he, while fighting for the extension of his religion and the honour of his tribe, had met with a death neither inglorious nor unavenged. Groaning over this his companions kept repeating, ‘O man, thrice happy andthrice blessed, how gladly would we exchange our lot for thine!’ The Turks firmly believe that no souls ascend to heaven so quickly as those of brave heroes who have fallen in war, and that for their safety the Houris daily make prayers and vows to God.
I had a fancy also to be conducted through the shambles where the sheep were slaughtered, that I might see what meat there was for sale. I saw but four or five sheep at most, which had been flayed and hung up, although it was the slaughter-house of the Janissaries, of whom I think there were no fewer than four thousand in the camp. I expressed my astonishment that so little meat was sufficient for such a number of men, and was told in reply that few used it, for a great part of them had their victuals brought over from Constantinople. When I asked what they were, they pointed out to me a Janissary, who was engaged in eating his dinner; he was devouring, off a wooden or earthen trencher, a mess of turnips, onions, garlic, parsnips, and cucumbers, seasoned with salt and vinegar, though, for the matter of that, I fancy that hunger was the chief sauce that seasoned his dish, for, to all appearance, he enjoyed his vegetables as much as if he had been dining off pheasants and partridges. Water, that common beverage of men and animals, is their only drink. This abstemious diet is good both for their health and their pockets.
I was at the camp just before their fast, or Lent216as we should call it, and thus was still more struck with the behaviour of the men. In Christian lands at this season, not only camps, but even orderly cities, ring with games and dances, songs and shouts; everywhere are heard the sounds of revelling, drunkenness, and delirium. In short, the world runs mad. It isnot improbable that there is some foundation for the story, that a Turk, who happened to come to us on a diplomatic mission at one of these seasons, related on his return home, that the Christians, on certain days, go raving mad, and are restored to their senses and their health by a kind of ashes, which are sprinkled on them in their temples. He told his friends that it was quite remarkable to see the beneficial effects of this remedy; the change was so great that one would hardly imagine them to be the same people. He referred of course to Ash Wednesday and Shrove Tuesday. His hearers were the more astonished, because the Turks are acquainted with several drugs which have the power of rendering people insane, while they know of few capable of speedily restoring the reason.
During the days which immediately precede the season of abstinence, they do not alter their former mode of life, or allow themselves any extra indulgence in the way of food and drink. Nay rather, on the contrary, by diminishing their usual allowance they prepare themselves for the fast, for fear they should not be able to bear the sudden change. Their fast recurs every twelve months; and, as twelve lunar months do not make up a year, it annually comes some fifteen days earlier. Hence it follows that, if the fast is at the beginning of Spring, six years later it will be kept at the commencement of Summer. The Turks limit their fast to the period of one lunar month, and the most severe fasts are those which fall in summer, on account of the length of the days. Inasmuch as they keep it so strictly as to touch nothing, not even water—nay, they hold it unlawful even to wash out the mouth—till the stars appear at even, it follows of course that a fast which occurs when the days are longest,hottest, and most dusty, is extremely trying, especially to those who are obliged to earn their livelihood by manual labour. However, they are allowed to eat what they please before sunrise, or to speak accurately, before the stars are dimmed by the light of that luminary, the idea being that the Sun ought to see no one eating during the whole of the fast. On this account the fast, when it falls in winter, is not so hard to bear.
On a cloudy day of course some mistake might be made about sunset. To meet this difficulty the priests, who act as sacristans, put lighted paper lanterns on the pinnacles of the minarets. (It is from these minarets that they utter the loud cry which summons the people to prayer, and they therefore answer to our belfries.217) These lights are intended to remove all doubt as to the time being come when food may be taken. Then at last, after first entering a mosque and reciting their customary prayers, they return to supper. On summer days I remember seeing them making in crowds from the mosque to a tavern, opposite our abode, where snow was kept for sale (of which, by the way, there is an unfailing supply from Mount Olympus, in Asia), and asking for iced water, which they drank, sitting cross-legged, for the Turks have a scruple about eating or drinking standing, if they can help it. But as the evening was too far gone for me to be able to see what they were squatting down for, I got some of my acquaintance, who understood Turkish customs, to enlighten me, and found that each took a great draught of cold water to open a passage for their food, which otherwise would stick in their throats, parched as they were by heat and fasting, and also that their appetite was stimulated by the cold drink. No special kinds of food are appointed to be eaten during the fast; nor does their religion prescribe abstinence during that season from anything which they are allowed to eat at other times. Should they happen to have any illness which prevents their observing the fast, they may disregard it, on condition, however, of making up, when they get well, the number of fasting days which their health has compelled them to miss. Likewise, when they are in an enemy’s country and an engagement is apprehended, they are ordered to postpone their fast to some other time, lest they should be hungry and faint on the day of battle. If they hesitate to do so, the Sultan himself takes food publicly at midday before the eyes of the army, that all may be encouraged by his example to do the same. But as at other times of the year they are forbidden, by their religion, to drink wine, and cannot taste it without committing a sin, so they are most scrupulous in observing this rule all the days of the fast, and even the most careless and profligate people not only abstain from wine, but shun the very smell of it.
I remember that, after I had made many enquiries as to the reason why Mahomet had so strictly forbidden his followers to drink wine, I was one day told this story. Mahomet happened to be travelling to a friend, and halted on his way at midday at a man’s house, where a wedding feast was being celebrated. At his host’s invitation he sat down with them, and greatly admired the exceeding gaiety of the banqueters and their earnest demonstrations of affection—such as shaking of hands, embraces, and kisses. He asked his host the reason, and was informed that such feelings were the consequence of wine. Accordingly on his departure he blessed that beverage as being the cause ofsuch affection among mankind. But on his return the day after, when he entered the same house, a far different sight was presented to his eyes; on all sides were the traces of a cruel fight, the ground was stained with gore and strewn with human limbs; here lay an arm and there a foot; and other fragments were scattered all about. On his asking what had been the cause of so much mischief, he heard that the banqueters he had seen the day before had got maddened with wine and quarrelled, and that a fearful butchery had been the consequence. On this account, Mahomet changed his opinion and cursed the use of wine, making a decree for all time that his followers should not touch it.
So, drinking being prohibited, peace and silence reign in a Turkish camp, and this is more especially the case during their Lent. Such is the result produced by military discipline, and the stern laws bequeathed them by their ancestors. The Turks allow no crime and no disgraceful act to go unpunished. The penalties are degradation from office, loss of rank, confiscation of property, the bastinado, and death. The most usual is the bastinado, from which not even the Janissaries themselves are exempt, though they are not subject to capital punishment. Their lighter faults are punished with the stick, their graver with dismissal from the service or removal to a different corps, a penalty they consider worse than death, by which indeed such a sentence is almost always followed. For when the Janissaries are stripped of their uniform, they are banished to distant garrisons on the furthest frontiers, where their life is one of ignominy and disgrace; or if the crime is so atrocious as to render it necessary to make an example of the culprit, an excuse is found for putting him to death in the place to which he hasbeen banished. But the punishment of death is inflicted on him not as a Janissary, but as a common soldier.