Reasons for returning to Constantinople—Roostem restored to power—Negotiations—Busbecq’s nose and ears in danger—Bajazet—Account of Solyman’s family—Story of Prince Jehangir—Roxolana’s partiality for Bajazet—The temper of Mustapha’s partisans—Bajazet suborns a man to personate Mustapha—The impostor in Bulgaria—His artful address—Solyman’s appreciation of the crisis—The Sanjak-beys—Pertau Pasha—Seizure of the impostor—Tortured by order of the Sultan—The impostor’s revelations—Drowned at midnight—Danger of Bajazet—Roxolana’s intercession for her son—Bajazet’s visit to his father—The cup of sherbet—Bajazet more fortunate than Mustapha—Achmet Pasha—Various reasons assigned for his execution—Strange request to his executioner—Busbecq’s best friends.

I have received your letter, in which you tell me that you have heard of my departure for Thrace, while you wonder at the infatuation which has induced me to revisit a country destitute of civilisation, and notorious for deeds of cruelty.

Well, you wish me to tell you of my journey, the position of affairs when I arrived, my reception at Constantinople, etc.; in short, you want to know how I am, whether I am enjoying myself, and whether I have any immediate prospect of returning. You claim an answer to your questions on the score of our ancient friendship.

Here is my reply to your inquiries. First, the report which you heard of my return hither was quite correct, nor need you be surprised at my taking this step. My word was pledged, and having once undertaken the duty, I could not consistently draw back.

My position was this: I had been appointed by my most gracious master Ferdinand, King of the Romans, ambassador in ordinary to Solyman for several years. This appointment, however, and my acceptance of it, appeared to rest on the assumption that peace had been concluded; still, as the hope of an arrangement had not been altogether abandoned, I did not, until the matter was finally settled, one way or the other, feel justified in avoiding the toils and risks of my present position.

Accordingly though I was under no delusion as to the extent of the danger I was incurring, and should have much preferred to hand over the duty to another, still, since I could not find a substitute, I was obliged to obey the wish of my most kind and considerate Sovereign—a wish which to me was law. As soon as he had returned from the session of the Imperial Diet,151 and had given me an interview, in the course of which I informed him of the state of our negotiations with Solyman, he ordered me to hold myself in readiness to carry back his answer to the Sultan.

It was winter, and the weather was bad, being wet, cold, and windy, when I was ordered back to Constantinople with despatches which could hardly be acceptable to those to whom I went. Here you will exclaim at my infatuation in venturing a second time on such a risk. I cannot look on it in this light. It seems to me that what was the right course before must be the right course now. And surely the proper measure of the credit to be attached to an honourable act, is the amount of toil and danger involved in its accomplishment.

In the month of November I left Vienna to retrace my steps to the shores of the Euxine. I have no intention of abusing your patience by wearying you with a repetition of the trifling occurrences which befell me on my way, for I think you must have been so bored with the account of my former journey, as hardly yet to have recovered from its effects. Repetition is all the more needless, because we took almost identically the same route as before.

Early in January I reached Constantinople, after losing one of my companions from an attack of acute fever, brought on by the hardships of the road. I found my colleagues safe and sound, but a great change had taken place in the Turkish Government. Bajazet, the younger son of Solyman, had been delivered from a position of serious danger, and forgiven by his father. Achmet Pasha,152 the Chief Vizier, had been strangled; and Roostem restored to his former honours.

Of these things more anon. I will now tell you of the unfavourable reception I had from the Sultan, the Pashas, and the rest of the Turks.

In accordance with their usual practice before admitting an ambassador to the presence of their Sovereign, the Pashas desired me to tell them the purport of the answer with which I was entrusted; on learning that his Majesty declined to make any concession, and insisted on his right to the fulfilment of the treaty which he had fairly and honestly negotiated with the widow and son of John the Voivode153 (i.e. Governor) of Transylvania, the wrath and indignation of the Pashas knew no bounds. A long career of success has made the Turks so arrogant, that they consider their pleasure to be the sole rule of what is right and what is wrong.

At first they tried to frighten us, and enlarged on the danger of entering the Sultan’s presence with such despatches. When we were not to be intimidated, and again asked for an audience, they refused to involve themselves in our dangers by presenting us to their Sovereign. To use their own phrase, they asked us ‘how many spare heads we thought they had got, that we expected them to introduce us to their master’s presence with an answer of this kind? It was a downright insult on our part, and one which their master was not the man to pocket. He was in his capital, surrounded by his victorious troops; his successes against the Persians had raised his spirit and swelled his pride, while the son who had aspired to his throne had been put to death, from which last circumstance we might learn a lesson as to how far his wrath could go. What could possibly suit him better than a campaign in Hungary, where his war-worn soldiers might forget their hardships, and enjoy the plunder of a well-stocked country, while he annexed to his empire the remainder of that province, which in good sooth was not much? In short our wisest course was to keep quiet, and not arouse his anger; there was no need for us to hasten on the evil day; it would come quite soon enough without our interference.’ Such was the advice of the Pashas, nor was more comfort to be derived from the opinions expressed by the rest of the Turks; for the mildest punishment they threatened us with was, that two of us would be thrust into a noisome dungeon, while the third (your humble servant, to wit), would be sent back to his master, after being first deprived of his nose and ears. Moreover, we noticed that people, as they passed our lodging, scowled at us in a way that boded no good. From this time we met with harsher treatment, our confinement was closer, no one was suffered to visit us, our people were not allowed to go abroad; in short, although we were ambassadors, our lot was scarcely better than that of prisoners. This has been our position for the last six months, and what will be the end of it God only knows; we are in His hands, and whatever may befall us, whatever we may have to bear, we shall have the great comfort of feeling that there is nothing on our part of which we need be ashamed.

I will now proceed to answer your inquiries touching Bajazet, but in order to make my explanation clearer, I must give you further explanations about the Sultan’s family. Solyman has had five sons, the eldest of whom was Mustapha, whose unhappy end I have already described; he was the son of a woman who came from the Crimea; by a Russian154 woman, to whom he is legally married, he has had four sons—Mahomet, Selim, Bajazet, and Jehangir. Mahomet, after marrying a wife (for the Turks give the title of wife to concubines), died while still young. The surviving sons are Selim and Bajazet.

Jehangir, the youngest, is dead, and of his death I shall now proceed to give you an account. The news of Mustapha’s death, when it arrived at Constantinople, overwhelmed the young prince with terror and dismay. The poor lad, whose person was disfigured by a hump, had no strength of mind or body to enable him to resist the shock. The death of his brother reminded him of the fate in store for himself at no distant day. His father’s death would seal his doom. The consignment of the old Sultan to the tomb would mark at once the commencement of his successor’s reign, and the termination of his own life. Whoever that successor might be, it was certain he would regard all his brothers as rivals to his throne, who must be got rid of without delay; and of these brothers he was one. These sad thoughts took hold of him to such an extent, that an order for his instant execution could not have terrified him more. So great was his misery that it brought on an illness which terminated in his death.

Two sons, as I said, survive; one of whom, Selim, being the elder, is intended by his father to succeed him on the throne. Bajazet’s claims are warmly supported by his mother, who is devoted to him. Possibly his hopeless position may have excited her pity, or she may be influenced by his dutiful bearing towards herself; but whatever the reason may be, no one doubts that, if it depended on her, Bajazet would be placed on the throne to the exclusion of Selim. She must, however, yield to the father’s will, and he is thoroughly determined that, if the fates permit, no one but Selim shall succeed him. Bajazet, being aware how matters stand, is anxiously looking round for an opportunity of escaping the fate marked out for him, and exchanging a pitiless doom for a throne. Indeed the support of his mother and Roostem prevents his altogether despairing of success; and to fall fighting for the chance of empire seems to him a more honourable lot than to be butchered like a sheep by his brother’s hangman. Such were Bajazet’s feelings, and his difference with Selim was becoming more and more marked, when he discerned in the odium excited by the execution of Mustapha an opportunity of putting in motion the revolution he had long been planning.

So intense was the sorrow for Mustapha, that many after his death grew weary of life; all their prospects had been bound up in his fortunes, and what they most longed for was an opportunity of avenging his wrongs or sharing his fate. Some of his supporters were rendered so uneasy by their own fears, that they thought there could be nothing worse than their present position, and therefore were looking out for the means of bringing about a general revolution; all that was wanted was a leader; Mustapha indeed could not be recalled to life, but a pretender could be set up. Bajazet was on the watch, and the idea struck him as one admirably calculated for the furtherance of his design. At his instigation, some of his followers induced a fellow of low origin, but daring and resolute, to announce himself as Mustapha, and boldly personate the dead prince. In height, features, and general appearance he was not unlike that unhappy youth. Feigning to have escaped from the Sultan by flight, the pretender began to show himself first northward of Constantinople, on the slopes155 of the Balkan leading down to the Danube, not far from the provinces of Moldavia and Wallachia.

There were two reasons for choosing this locality; first, because the proximity of the above-mentioned provinces afforded a good opening for revolutionary schemes, and, secondly, because the whole country was full of Spahis, a branch of the service which had provided Mustapha with most of his followers. He landed there with a few attendants, pretending to be a traveller, who desired to escape notice. When his companions were questioned as to who he was, they made people think it was Mustapha by timid hints, rather than by downright statements; nor did their leader himself deny that such was the case. This cunning device made people still more anxious to see him. Hereon the pretender threw away all disguise; and after expressing his joy at his safe arrival among them, and thanking God for his preservation, proceeded to tell them the following story. He said that ‘when he was summoned,156 he had not ventured to enter into the presence of his offended father or trust himself in his hands, but that by the advice of his friends he had, by means of large promises, procured a man who resembled him to go in his stead, that he might learn his father’s disposition towards himself, at the risk of another man’s life: this man, before he was admitted to his father, or given any opportunity of pleading his case, had been cruelly strangled, and exposed in front of the Sultan’s tent; at the time there were many who had a sort of suspicion of the trick, but a still larger number, owing to the features of the wretched man being rendered undistinguishable by his agonising death, had been induced to believe that he himself had suffered. On learning this, he had felt that he must without loss of time fly for his life. Knowing that his safety depended on secresy, he had only allowed a few of his companions to share his flight; he had made his way along the north coast of the Black Sea through the tribes of the Bosphorus,157 and had come amongst them, because he felt that in their loyal protection lay his best chance of safety. He implored them not to fail him in the hour of trial, when he was suffering from the persecution of his wicked stepmother, or hold him of less account than they had been wont to do in the time of his prosperity; his object was to avenge his wrongs, and draw the sword in self-defence. What else remained to him? If he still lived, it was only because another had died in his stead; proof enough had been given of his father’s feelings towards him; to his parent’s mistake, not to his parent’s affection, he owed his life; all this misery arose from the sorceries of his mother-in-law; the poor old Sultan being hardly in his right mind, and madly devoted to his wife, she was able to sway him at her pleasure, and with Roostem’s assistance, to drive him to the commission of any crime she chose; but, thank God, he had true friends to help him out of his misfortunes, and inflict condign punishment on his enemies; he still had devoted followers, on his side were the Janissaries and the greater part of his father’s household, large forces would pour in when they heard of his standard being raised, and hosts of friends, who mourned his death, would rally round him when they found he still lived. He only asked them to receive him kindly as a guest, and protect him in the day of adversity, until such time as his supporters could be assembled.’

At first he used this language privately, but afterwards he harangued in a similar strain the inhabitants of the places he visited; the men who were supposed to have been the companions of his flight supported his assertions by similar narratives; while persons of considerable position, who had been suborned by Bajazet, made statements to the same effect. By this means a great number of people who had no connection with Bajazet, were drawn into the mistake. For the affair was so artfully managed that some who had known Mustapha during his life, and had recognised his body when it lay before his father’s tent, were nevertheless anxious to discredit their own senses, and allowed themselves to be persuaded that this was the true Mustapha. And though the intimate friends and dependants of Mustapha, on whose memories his features were imprinted, were in no wise deceived by the impostor, nevertheless, they were so blinded by fear and resentment, that they were among the first to give in their allegiance. There was nothing they were not willing to undergo sooner than live any longer without a Mustapha. Their adhesion prevented the rest from having any doubts as to his being the true Mustapha, and convinced them that the story of his execution was founded on a mistake. Nor was the impostor himself idle; for some he had fine words and promises, while on many he bestowed money and presents, purporting to be a remnant saved from the wreck of his former fortune (for Bajazet had taken care that there should be no lack of funds), and so, by one means or another, he managed to keep his followers together, and add to their number.

Accordingly, in a few days a large and daily increasing force had been collected; the muster had already assumed the proportions of a regular army, when Solyman was suddenly informed of the insurrection; letters and messengers came in hot haste from the neighbouring Sanjak-beys to tell him that the insurrection was rapidly gaining head, and the crisis had become serious.

The Sultan, rightly surmising that one or other of his two sons was privy to the conspiracy, considered it a most serious matter, and sent despatches severely reprimanding the Sanjak-beys for their remissness in allowing the insurrection to assume such formidable proportions, instead of nipping it in the bud; moreover, he threatened to punish them severely if they failed to send him the impostor in chains at the very earliest date possible, and with him all the other ringleaders in this monstrous treason. He told them that, in order to expedite matters, he was sending one of his Vizierial Pashas to their assistance (the name of this officer was Pertau, he is married to the widow of the Mahomet of whom I told you), and that he was accompanied by a large force of household troops; but if they desired to clear themselves, they had better bring the matter to a conclusion with their own forces, before the reinforcements arrived.

Pertau’s command was not numerous, but it was composed of the most loyal of the Sultan’s troops; for Solyman had taken care to select his most faithful colonels, captains, and cavalry officers. There was, indeed, serious apprehension of Pertau’s forces being induced to go over to the enemy in a body, as it was impossible to say how far they had been tampered with, or to what length their party feeling might carry them. The rank and file of the Janissaries, excited by the idea of a revolution with Mustapha at its head, were well inclined towards the insurgents, and eager for the rising to become general. There were, therefore, serious reasons for anxiety.

On receiving Solyman’s commands, the Sanjak-beys felt the necessity of vigorous action, and, with many mutual exhortations, set to work in all haste to oppose and check the pretender’s plans, doing their utmost to cut off the bands that were coming up, and to break up the force which he had already collected, whilst they cowed the whole country side with threats of the Sultan’s vengeance.

Meanwhile, the column of Pertau Pasha was advancing towards the scene of insurrection. The effect produced by the approach of the regular troops was such as might have been expected. The raw levies of the pretender were panic-stricken when they saw that they were out-generalled and attacked on every side. At first small parties dropped away; after a while the whole army, throwing honour and obligation to the winds, deserted their leader, and scattered in every direction. The pretender, with his chief officers and advisers, attempted to follow the example of his men, but was stopped by the Sanjak-beys, and taken alive. They were all handed over to Pertau Pasha, and sent off to Constantinople with a guard of picked troops. On their arrival, Solyman had them carefully examined under torture. Their confession established the guilt of Bajazet, and made his father acquainted with his treasonable designs. He had intended, it appears, as soon as the forces of the insurgents had reached a certain size, to join them with a strong body of troops, and either to lead them straight against Constantinople, or to fall with all his strength upon his brother, according as circumstances might favour either attempt; but whilst he hesitated, his designs were nipped in the bud by the prompt action of his father. Solyman, having satisfied himself on these points, ordered them all to be drowned in the sea at dead of night, deeming it most inexpedient that any of these transactions should be noised abroad, and his family misfortunes become the gazing-stock of neighbouring princes. The Sultan, who was grievously displeased with Bajazet for this audacious attempt, was debating in his mind how he should punish him; but his wife being a clever woman, his intentions were not long a secret to her.

Having allowed a few days to elapse, in order to give time for his anger to cool, she alluded to the subject in Solyman’s presence, and spoke of the thoughtlessness of young men, quoting similar acts which had been done by his forefathers. She reminded the Sultan that ‘natural instinct teaches everyone to protect himself and his family, and that death is welcome to none; that the mind of a young man can easily be seduced from the right path by the suggestions of unscrupulous advisers. It was only fair,’ she said, ‘to pardon a first fault, and if his son came to his senses he would have saved him to his own great benefit as a father; but if Bajazet should go back to his former ways, it would then be time to punish him, as he deserved, for both his misdeeds. If he would not grant this mercy to his erring son, she implored him to grant it to a mother’s prayers. She begged for the life of the son she had borne, and entreated him to spare their common child. What must be her feelings,’ she continued, ‘if, of the two sons whom God had spared her, one should be reft away by his unrelenting father. He ought to control his wrath, and lean to mercy rather than severity, however just that severity might be; for the Deity, whose power and justice were infinite, did not clothe himself always in severity, but to a great extent allowed mercy to prevail, otherwise the human race could not suffice to supply victims for his vengeance. To whom ought a man to extend mercy, if not to his children? Henceforth Bajazet would be a dutiful son, and, freed by this great act of grace from his present fears, overflow with love and obedience towards his father; there was no surer bond for noble souls than kind and generous treatment; the recollection of the pardon he had received would prevent Bajazet from repeating his offence. She pledged her word for him, and undertook that he should henceforth be a good and dutiful son.’

By these words, accompanied as they were with tears and caresses, Solyman was softened; and being at all times too much under his wife’s influence, he changed his resolve, and determined to spare Bajazet, on condition of his coming and receiving his commands in person. The mother was equal to the occasion, and wrote secretly to Bajazet, telling him not to be afraid to come when he was sent for, he would be perfectly safe; she had obtained his restoration to his father’s favour, from whose mind all displeasure had been removed. On receiving this message his hopes rose, and he determined to trust himself in his father’s hands; but he was not without fears, as he thought every now and then of his brother Mustapha, whose fate testified pretty clearly to the magnitude of the danger he was incurring. Accordingly, he came to the place appointed for the conference, which was a public inn a few miles from Constantinople, called Carestran. This was in accordance with a rule of the Turkish Court, that no grown-up son of the Sultan should during his father’s lifetime set foot within the walls of Constantinople, lest he should tamper with the household troops, and endeavour to seize the throne. On dismounting, he found his father’s slaves waiting for him with an order to lay aside his sword and dagger. Nor was there anything unusual in this, as it is the general rule for those who are admitted to an audience with the Sultan; still it was a precaution which was not calculated to allay the fears of his conscience-stricken son. But his mother, foreseeing how frightened he would be when entering his father’s presence, had stationed herself in a chamber close to the entrance of the house, by which Bajazet must pass. As he went by, he could hear his mother calling to him through a little canvas-covered window, and saying, ‘Corcoma, oglan, corcoma’; i.e., Do not fear, my son, do not fear. These words from his mother gave Bajazet no little comfort. On entering, his father bade him take a seat by his side, and proceeded to lecture him most seriously on the rashness of his conduct in venturing to take up arms under circumstances which made it not improbable that he himself was the object of his attack; and granting that his attempt was directed only against his brother, it was even then an outrageous crime.

‘He had done what he could towards destroying the very foundations of the Moslem faith, by bringing to the verge of ruin through family feuds that which was nowadays its only support—the imperial power of the house of Othman; this consideration alone ought to prevent a true believer from entertaining such a design.

‘On the wrong and insult to himself,’ continued the Sultan, ‘he would not dwell, though he had attempted to seize the throne during his lifetime, and thus committed an unpardonable offence, for which no possible punishment could ever atone; in spite of all this, he had determined to spare him, and deal with him rather as a kind father than as a strict judge, in the hope that he would henceforward leave the care of the future in the hands of God; none of these matters depended on man’s pleasure, it was by God’s decree that kingdoms went and kingdoms came. If fate ordained that after his death he (Bajazet) should reign, the matter was settled, the realm would come to him without any effort on his part; no human means could avail to hinder that which was appointed from on high; but if God had decreed otherwise, it was mere madness to toil and strive against His will, and, as it were, to fight against God. In short, he must leave off fomenting disorders, cease to attack a brother who did nothing to provoke him, and refrain from troubling his aged father. But if he returned to his old courses, and stirred up another storm, it should break on his own head, and there should be no pardon for a second offence; in that case he would not find in him a gentle father, but a stern judge.’

When he had thus spoken, and Bajazet had made a short and judicious reply, apologising for his fault rather than palliating it, and promising submission for the future to his father’s will, Solyman ordered the national beverage to be brought in, and handed to his son—it was a compound of sugar and water, flavoured with the juice of certain herbs. Bajazet, longing, but not daring, to refuse it, drank as much as appearances required, with misgiving in his heart that this might be the last cup he should ever taste. But presently his father removed his anxiety by taking a draught from the same cup. Bajazet therefore was more fortunate than Mustapha in his interview with his father, and was allowed to return to his government.158

I have a few things to tell you about Achmet’s death. Some think he was accused of a secret leaning towards Mustapha, or at any rate of negligence in not detecting the conspiracy of the pretender and Bajazet till it was almost too late. Others think that he had long before been sentenced to death for robberies and depredations committed by him at a time when he was without official rank, and fighting for his own hand; and that this sentence, which, on account of his gallantry and military skill, had been postponed, though never actually remitted, was now to be put into execution. Others, again, think that the wish to restore Roostem to his old position was the one and only reason for putting Achmet to death. Solyman was believed to have promised Achmet never to deprive him of the seal of office so long as he lived. When circumstances necessitated the restoration of the seal to Roostem, he was obliged, in order to keep his pledge and avoid a breach of faith, to put Achmet to death, and hence the order for his execution. They declare also that Solyman said, it was better for him to die once than to die a thousand times, as would be the case, if he survived to be perpetually tormented with vain regret for the power that had been snatched from his hands and given to another. However that may be, one morning when he had gone to the Divan (which I have already explained to be the council chamber), without the slightest knowledge of what was about to happen, a messenger came to sentence him to death in the Sultan’s name. Achmet, being a man of marvellous courage, received the announcement with almost as much composure as if it were no concern of his. All he did was to repulse the hangman, who was preparing to perform his office, deeming it unfitting that one who had but lately held so exalted a position, should be touched by his polluted hands. Glancing round on the bystanders, he begged as a favour of a gentleman, with whom he was on friendly terms, to act as his executioner, telling him that it was a kindness he should greatly value, and the last he would ever be able to do to him; after many entreaties, his friend acceded to his request. When this was settled, Achmet enjoined him, after putting the bowstring round his neck, not to strangle him at the first pull, but to slacken it and allow him to draw one breath; after which he was to tighten the string until he was dead; this fancy of his was duly complied with. A strange wish, methinks, to pry at such a time into the mystery of death, and pay one visit to the threshold of the king of terrors before passing his portals for ever!

After his death the badges of his former office and the post of Chief Vizier were restored to Roostem. As to your inquiry about my return, I may answer in the words of the famous quotation, ‘Facilis descensus Averni.’ Well, He who guided me on my way hither will bring me back in His own good time. In the meanwhile, I shall console myself in my loneliness and troubles with my old friends, my books; friends who have never failed me hitherto, but have done their master true and loyal service by night and day. Farewell.

Constantinople, July 14, 1556.159