Authors: George W. M. Reynolds,James Malcolm Rymer
Thus by the time the boat touched
the landing-place where he had first entered it, he had succeeded to some
extent in subduing the pangs of remorse. The female slave now bade him remove
the cap from his face and resume his turban. A few moments sufficed to make
this change; and he was about to step on shore, when the woman caught him by
the sleeve of his caftan, and, thrusting a small case of sandal-wood into his
hand, said: “She whom you saw ere now, commanded me to give thee this.”
The slave pushed him toward the
bank: he obeyed the impulse and landed, she remaining in the boat, which
instantly darted away again, most probably to convey her back to the abode of
her charming mistress. On the
top of the bank the renegade was accosted by the spy whom he had left there
when he embarked in the skiff.
“Allah and the Prophet be
praised!” exclaimed the man, surveying Alessandro attentively by the light of
the lovely moon. “Thou art now numbered amongst the faithful!”
The apostate bit his lips to keep
down a sigh of remorse which rose to them; and his guide, without uttering
another word, led the way to the palace of the reis-effendi. There Alessandro
or Ibrahim, as we must henceforth call him—was lodged in a splendid apartment,
and had two slaves appointed to wait upon him. He, however, hastily dismissed
them, and when alone, opened the case that had been placed into his hands by
the female slave. It contained a varied assortment of jewelry and precious
stones, constituting a treasure of immense value.
Constantinople
, like haughty Rome, is built on seven hills—the houses being so
disposed that they do not intercept the view commanded by each on the
amphitheatrical acclivities. But the streets are narrow, crooked, and uneven;
and the grand effects of the numerous stately mosques and noble edifices are
subdued, and in many cases altogether lost, either by the very insignificant
width of the thoroughfares in which they stand, or by the contiguity of mean
and miserable wooden tenements.
The mosque of St. Sophia, once a
Christian church, with its magnificent portico, supported by marble columns,
its nine vast folding doors, adorned with bas-reliefs, and its stupendous dome,
a hundred and twenty feet in diameter; the mosque of the Sultan Solyman,
forming an exact square with four noble towers at the angles, and with its huge
cupola, in the midst; the mosque of the Sultan Ahmed, with its numerous domes,
its tall minarets, and its colonnades supported by marble pillars; and the
mosque of the Sultana Valida, or queen mother of Mohammed the Fourth, exceeding
all other Mussulman churches in the delicacy of its architecture and the beauty
of its columns of marble and jasper, supplied by the ruins of Troy—these are
the most remarkable temples in the capital of the Ottoman empire.
The Grand Bezestein, or exchange,
is likewise a magnificent structure—consisting of a spacious hall of circular
form, built of free-stone, and surrounded by shops displaying the richest
commodities of Oriental commerce. In the Ladies’ Bazaar there is a marble
column of extraordinary height, and on the sides of which, from the foot to the
crown, are represented in admirable bas-reliefs the most remarkable events
which characterized the reign of the Emperor Arcadius, ere the capital of Roman
dominions of the East fell into the hands of the descendants of Osman.
But of all the striking edifices
at Constantinople, that of the
Sultan’s
Palace, or seraglio, is the most spacious and the most magnificent. Christian
writers and readers are too apt to confound the seraglio with the harem, and to
suppose that the former means the apartments belonging to the sultan’s ladies;
whereas the word seraglio, or rather
sernil
, represents the entire
palace of which the harem, or females’ dwelling, is but a comparatively small
portion.
The seraglio is a vast inclosure,
occupying nearly the entire site of the ancient city of Byzantium, and
embracing a circumference of five miles. It contains nine enormous courts of
quadrangular form, and an immense number of buildings—constituting a complete
town of itself. But within this inclosure dwell upward of ten thousand
persons—the entire court of the sultan. There reside the great officers of
state, the body guards, the numerous corps of bostandjis, or gardeners, and
baltojis, or fire-wood purveyors—the corps of white and black eunuchs, the
pages, the mutes, the dwarfs—the ladies of the harem, and all their numerous attendants.
There are nine gates to the
palace of the sultan. The principal one opens on the square of St. Sophia, and
is very magnificent in its architecture. It is this gate which is called the
Sublime Porte—a name figuratively given to the court of the sultan, in all
histories, records, and diplomatic transactions. It was within the inclosure of
the seraglio that Alessandro Francatelli, whom we shall henceforth call by his
apostate name of Ibrahim—was lodged in the dwelling of the reis-effendi or
minister of foreign affairs. But in the course of a few days the renegade was
introduced into the presence of Piri Pasha, the grand vizier—that high
functionary who exercised a power almost as extensive and as despotic as that
wielded by the sultan himself.
Ibrahim, the apostate, was
received by his highness Piri Pasha at a private audience—and the young man
exerted all his powers, and called to his aid all the accomplishments which he
possessed, to render himself agreeable to that great minister. He discoursed in
an intelligent manner upon the policy of Italy and Austria, and gave the grand
vizier considerable information relative to the customs, resources, and
condition of these countries. Then, when the vizier touched upon lighter
matters, Ibrahim showed how well he was already acquainted with the works of
the most eminent Turkish poets and historians; and the art of music being
mentioned, he gave the minister a specimen of his proficiency on the violin.
Piri Pasha was charmed with the young renegade, whom he immediately took into
his service as one of his private secretaries.
Not many weeks elapsed before the
fame of Ibrahim’s accomplishments and rare talents reached the ears of the
sultan, Solyman the Magnificent; and the young renegade was honored with an
audience by the ruler of the East. On this occasion he exerted himself to
please even more triumphantly than when he was introduced to the grand vizier;
and the sultan commanded that henceforth Ibrahim should remain attached to his
person in the capacity of keeper of the imperial archives.
We should observe that the
dispatches which the Florentine Envoy wrote to the government of the republic,
contained but a brief and vague allusion to the apostasy of Alessandro
Francatelli; merely mentioning that the youth had become a Mussulman, and
entered the service of the grand vizier, but not stating either the name which
he had adopted or the brilliant prospects which had so suddenly and marvelously
opened before him. The Florentine Embassador treated the matter thus lightly,
because he was afraid of incurring the blame of his government for not having
kept a more stringent watch over his subordinate, were he to attach any
importance to the fact of Alessandro’s apostasy. But he hoped that by merely
glancing at the event as one scarcely worth special notice, the Council of
Florence would be led to treat it with equal levity. Nor was the embassador
deceived in his calculation; and thus the accounts which reached Florence
relative to Alessandro’s renegadism—and which were not indeed communicated to
the council until some months after the occurrence of the apostasy itself—were
vague and indefinite to a degree.
And had Ibrahim no remorse? Did
he never think of his lovely sister Flora, and of his affectionate aunt who, in
his boyhood, had made such great and generous sacrifices to rear them
honorably? Oh! yes;—but a more powerful idea dominated the remembrance of
kindred, and the attachment to home—and that idea was ambition! Moreover, the
hope of speedily achieving that greatness which was to render him eligible and
worthy to possess the charming being whose powerful influence seemed to
surround him with a constant halo of protection, and to soothe down all the
asperities which are usually found in the career of those who rise suddenly and
rise highly—this ardent, longing hope not only encouraged him to put forth all
his energies to make himself master of a glorious position, but also subdued to
no small extent the feelings of compunction which would otherwise have been too
bitter, too agonizing to endure.
His mind was, moreover,
constantly occupied. When not in attendance upon the sultan, he devoted all his
time to render himself intimately acquainted with the laws, polity, diplomatic
history, resources, condition, and finances of the Ottoman Empire; he also
studied the Turkish literature, and practiced composition, both in prose and
verse, in the language of that country which was now his own! But think not,
reader, that in his heart he was a Mussulman, or that he had extinguished the
light of Christianity within his soul. No—oh! no; the more he read on the
subject of the Mohammedan system of theology, the more he became convinced not
only of its utter falsity, but also of its incompatibility with the progress of
civilization. Nevertheless, he dared not pray to the True God whom he had
renounced with his lips; but there was a secret adoration, an interior worship
of the Saviour, which he could not and sought not to subdue.
Solyman the Magnificent, was an
enlightened prince, and a generous patron of the arts and sciences. He did not
persecute the Christians, because he knew, in his own heart, that they
were further advanced in all
human ideas and institutions than the Ottomans. He was, therefore, delighted
whenever a talented Christian embraced the Moslem faith and entered his
service; and his keen perception speedily led him to discern and appreciate all
the merits and acquirements of his favorite Ibrahim.
Such was the state of things at
Constantinople, when those rapidly successive incidents, which we have already
related, took place in Florence. At this time immense preparations were being
made by the sultan for an expedition against the Island of Rhodes, then in the
possession of the Knights of St. John, commanded by their grand master,
Villiers of Isle Adam.
This chieftain, aware of the
danger which menaced him, dispatched envoys to the courts of Rome, Genoa,
Venice, and Florence, imploring those powers to send him assistance against the
expected invasion of the Turks. Each of these states hastened to comply with
this request; and numerous bodies of auxiliaries sailed from various ports in
Italy to fight beneath the glorious banner of Villiers of Isle Adam, one of the
stanchest veteran champions of Christendom.
Thus, at the very time when
Nisida and Wagner were united in the bonds of love on the island of which they
were the possessors—while, too, Isaachar the Jew languished in the prisons of
the Inquisition of Florence, at which city the chivalrous-hearted Manuel
d’Orsini tarried to hasten on the trial and give his testimony in favor of the
Israelite—and moreover while Flora, and the Countess Giulia dwelt in the
strictest retirement with the young maiden’s aunt—at this period, we say, a
fleet of three hundred sail quitted Constantinople under the command of the
kapitan-pasha, or lord high admiral, and proceeded toward the Island of Rhodes.
At the same time, Solyman the Magnificent crossed into Asia Minor, and placing
himself at the head of an army of a hundred thousand men, commenced his march
toward the coast facing the island, and where he intended to embark on his
warlike expedition. His favorite Ibrahim accompanied him, as did also the Grand
Vizier Piri Pasha, and the principal dignitaries of the empire.
It was in the spring of 1521 that
the Ottoman fleet received the army on board at the Cape in the Gulf of Macri,
which is only separated by a very narrow strait from the Island of Rhodes; and
in the evening of the same day on which the troops had thus embarked, the
mighty armament appeared off the capital city of the Knights of St. John.
On
the following morning, salvoes of
artillery throughout the fleet announced to the inhabitants and garrison of
Rhodes, that the sultan was about to effect a landing with his troops.
The debarkment was not resisted;
for it was protected by the cannonade which the ships directed against the
walls of the city,
and the
Christians had no vessel capable of demonstrating any hostility against the
mighty fleet commanded by the kapitan-pasha.
Villiers of Isle Adam, the
generalissimo of the Christian forces, had reduced to ashes all circumjacent
villages, and received their inhabitants into the city itself. But the Ottomans
cared not for the waste and desolation thus created around the walls of the
city; but while their artillery, alike on land and by sea, maintained an
incessant fire on the town, they threw up works of defense and established
depots of provisions and ammunition. The sultan went in person accompanied by
Ibrahim, and attended by a numerous escort, to reconnoiter the fortifications,
and inspect the position of his troops.
On the other side, Villiers of
Isle Adam distributed his forces in such a manner that the warriors of each
nation defended particular gates. Thus the corps of Spaniards, French, Germans,
English, Portuguese, Italian, Auvergnese and Provincials, respectively defended
eight of the gates of Rhodes; while the lord general himself, with his
body-guard, took his post at the ninth. For the knights of Rhodes comprised
natives of nearly all Christian countries, and the mode in which Villiers thus
allotted a gate to the defense of the warriors of each nation, gave an impulse
to that emulative spirit which ever induces the soldiers of one clime to vie
with those of another.
The Ottoman troops were disposed
in the following manner: Ayaz Pasha, Beglerbeg (or governor) of Roumilia, found
himself placed in front of the walls and gates defended by the French and
Germans; Ahmed Pasha was opposed to the Spaniards and Auvergnese; Mustapha
Pasha had to contend with the English: Kasim, Beglerbeg of Anatolia, was to
direct the attack against the bastion and gates occupied by the natives of
Provence; the Grand Vizier, Piri Pasha, was opposed to the Portuguese, and the
sultan himself undertook the assault against the defenses occupied by the
Italians.
For several days there was much
skirmishing, but no advantage was gained by the Ottomans. Mines and
countermines were employed on both sides, and those executed by the Christians
effected terrible havoc amongst the Turks. At length in pursuance of the advice
of the renegade Ibrahim, the sultan ordered a general assault to be made upon
the city, and heralds went through the entire encampment, proclaiming the
imperial command. Tidings of this resolution were conveyed into the city by
means of the Christians’ spies; and while the Ottomans were preparing for the
attack, Villiers of Isle Adam was actively employed in adopting all possible
means for the defense.
At daybreak, the general assault
commenced, and the aga (or colonel) of the janizaries succeeded in planting his
banner on the gate intrusted to the care of the Spaniards and Auvergnese. But
this success was merely temporary in that quarter; for the Ottomans were beaten
back with such immense slaughter, that fifteen thousand of their choicest
troops were cut to pieces in the breach and the ditch. But still the assault
was prosecuted in every quarter and every point, and the Christian warriors
acquitted themselves nobly in
the defense of the city. The women of Rhodes manifested a courage and zeal
which history has loved to record as most honorable to their sex. Some of them
carried about bread and wine to recruit the fainting and refresh the wearied,
others were ready with bandages and lint to stanch the blood which flowed from
the wounded, some conveyed earth in wheelbarrows, to stop up the breaches made
in the walls, and others bore along immense stones to hurl down upon the
assailants.
Oh! it was a glorious, but a sad
and mournful sight—that death-struggle of the valiant Christians against the
barbarism of the East. And many touching proofs of woman’s courage and daring
characterized that memorable siege. Especially does this fact merit our
attention:—The wife of a Christian captain, seeing her husband slain, and the
enemy gaining ground rapidly, embraced her two children tenderly, made the sign
of the cross upon their brows, and then, having stabbed them to the heart,
threw them into the midst of a burning building near, exclaiming, “The infidels
will not now be able, my poor darlings, to wreak their vengeance on you, alive
or dead!” In another moment she seized her dead husband’s sword, and plunging
into the thickest of the fight, met a death worthy of a heroine.
The rain now began to fall in
torrents, washing away the floods of gore which, since daybreak, had dyed the
bastions and the wall; and the assault continued as arduously as the defense
was maintained with desperation. Solyman commanded in person the division which
was opposed to the gate and the fort intrusted by the lord general of the
Christians to the care of the Italian auxiliaries. But, though it was now past
noon, and the sultan had prosecuted his attack on that point with unabated
vigor since the dawn, no impression had yet been made. The Italians fought with
a heroism which bade defiance to the numerical superiority of their assailants;
for they were led on by a young chieftain who, beneath an effeminate exterior,
possessed the soul of a lion. Clad in a complete suit of polished armor, and
with crimson plumes waving from his steel helmet, to which no visor was
attached, that youthful leader threw himself into the thickest of the medley,
sought the very points where danger appeared most terrible—and, alike by his example
and his words, encouraged those whom he commanded to dispute every inch of
ground with the Moslem assailants.
The sultan was enraged when he
beheld the success with which that Italian chieftain rallied his men again
after every rebuff; and, calling to Ibrahim to keep near him, Solyman the
Magnificent advanced toward the breach which his cannon had already effected in
the walls defended so gallantly by the Italian auxiliaries. And now, in a few
minutes, behold the sultan himself, nerved with wonderful energy, rushing
on—scimiter in hand—and calling on the young Italian warrior to measure weapons
with him. The Christian chieftain understood not the words which the sultan
uttered, but full well did he comprehend the anxiety of that great monarch to
do battle with him; and the curved scimiter and the straight, cross-handled
sword
clashed together in a
moment. The young warrior knew that his opponent was the sultan, whose imperial
rank was denoted by the turban which he wore; and the hope of inflicting chastisement
on the author of all the bloodshed which had taken place on the walls of Rhodes
inspired the youth with a courage perfectly irresistible.
Not many minutes had this combat
lasted, before Solyman was thrown down in the breach, and the cross-handled sword
of his conqueror was about to drink his heart’s blood, when the renegade
Ibrahim dashed forward from amidst the confused masses of those who were
fighting around, and by a desperate effort hurled the young Italian warrior
backward.
“I owe thee my life, Ibrahim,”
said the sultan, springing upon his feet. “But hurt not him who has combated so
gallantly: we must respect the brave!”
The Italian chieftain had been
completely stunned by his fall; he was, therefore, easily made prisoner and
carried off to Ibrahim’s tent.
Almost at the same moment a
messenger from Ahmed Pasha presented to the sultan a letter, in which was
stated that the grand master, Villiers of Isle Adam, anxious to put a stop to
the fearful slaughter that was progressing, had offered to capitulate on
honorable terms. This proposition was immediately agreed to by the sultan, and
a suspension of hostilities was proclaimed around the walls. The Ottomans
retired to their camp, having lost upward of thirty thousand men during the
deadly strife of a few hours; and the Christians had now leisure to ascertain
the extent of their own disasters, which were proportionately appalling.
In
the meantime Ibrahim had ordered
his prisoner, the young Italian chieftain, to be conveyed to his tent; and when
the renegade’s slaves had disencumbered the Christian of his armor, he began to
revive. As Ibrahim bent over him, administering restoratives, a suspicion,
which had already struck him the moment he first beheld his face, grew stronger
and stronger; and the apostate at length became convinced that he had seen that
countenance on some former occasion.
Ordering his slaves to withdraw,
Ibrahim remained alone with his prisoner, who was now able to sit up on the
sofa and gaze around him.
“I understand it all!” he
exclaimed, the blood rushing back to his pale cheek; “I am in the power of the
barbarians!”
“Nay, call us not harsh names,
brave chieftain,” said Ibrahim, “seeing that we do not treat you unworthily.”
“I was wrong!” cried the prisoner;
then, fixing his fine blue eyes upon the renegade, he added, “Were you not
habited as a Moslem, I should conceive, by the purity with which you speak my
native language, that you were a Christian, and an Italian.”
“I can speak many languages with
equal fluency,” said Ibrahim,
evasively,
as a pang shot through his heart. “But tell me thy name, Christian—for thou art
a brave man, although so young.”
“In my own country,” answered the
youth, proudly, “I am called the Count of Riverola.”
We have before stated that
Ibrahim was the complete master of his emotions: but it required all his powers
of self-possession to subdue them now, when the name of that family into which
he was well aware his sister had entered fell upon his ears. His suspicion was
well founded; he had indeed seen Francisco before this day—had seen him when he
was a mere boy, in Florence, for Alessandro was three or four years older than
the young count. But he had never, in his native land, exchanged a word with
Francisco; he had merely, occasionally, seen him in public; and it was quite
evident that even if Francisco had ever noticed him at that time, he did not
recollect him now. Neither did Ibrahim wish the young count to ascertain who he
was; for the only thing which the renegade ever feared was the encounter of any
one who had known him as a Christian, and who might justly reproach him for
that apostasy which had led him to profess Mohammedanism.
“Lord Count of Riverola,” said
Ibrahim, after a short pause, “you shall be treated in a manner becoming your
rank and your bravery. Such, indeed, was the command of my imperial master, the
most glorious sultan; but even had no such order been issued, my admiration of
your gallant deportment in this day’s strife would lead to the same result.”
“My best thanks are due for these
assurances,” returned Francisco. “But tell me how fares the war without?”
“The grand master has proffered a
capitulation, which has been accepted,” answered Ibrahim.
“A capitulation!” exclaimed
Francisco. “Oh! it were better to die in defense of the cross, than live to
behold the crescent triumphant on the walls of Rhodes!”
“The motive of the grand master
was a humane one,” observed Ibrahim; “he has agreed to capitulate, to put an
end to the terrific slaughter that is going on.”
“Doubtless the lord general acts
in accordance with the dictates of a matured wisdom!” exclaimed the Count of
Riverola.
“Your lordship was the leader of
the Italian auxiliaries?” said Ibrahim, interrogatively.
“Such was the honorable office
intrusted to me,” was the reply. “When messengers from Villiers of Isle-Adam
arrived in Florence, beseeching succor against this invasion, which has, alas!
proved too successful, I panted for occupation to distract my mind from ever
pondering on the heavy misfortunes which had overtaken me.”
“Misfortunes!” exclaimed Ibrahim.
“Yes—misfortunes of such a nature
that the mere thought of them is madness!” cried Francisco, in an excited tone.
“First, a beauteous and amiable girl—one who, though of humble origin, was
endowed with virtues and qualifications that might have fitted her to adorn a
palace, and whom I fondly, devotedly
loved—was-snatched
from me. She disappeared I know not how! All trace of her was suddenly lost, as
if the earth had swallowed her up and closed over her again! This blow was in
itself terrible. But it came not alone. A few days elapsed, and my sister—my
dearly beloved sister—also disappeared, and in the same mysterious manner. Not
a trace of her remained—and what makes this second affliction the more crushing—the
more overwhelming, is that she is deaf and dumb! Oh! Heaven grant me the power
to resist, to bear up against these crowning miseries! Vain were all my
inquiries—useless was all the search I instituted to discover whither had gone
the being whom I would have made my wife, and the sister who was ever so
devoted to me! At length, driven to desperation, when weeks had passed and they
returned not—goaded on to madness by bitter, bitter memories—I resolved to
devote myself to the service of the cross. With my gold I raised and equipped a
gallant band; and a favoring breeze wafted us from Leghorn to this island. The
grand master received me with open arms; and, forming an estimation of my
capacities far above my deserts, placed me in command of all the Italian
auxiliaries. You know the rest; I fought with all my energy, and your sultan
was within the grasp of death, when you rushed forward and saved him. The
result is that I am your prisoner.”