Introduction—Departure of Busbecq’s colleagues and preceding negotiations—Turkish hawking—Busbecq summoned to Adrianople—Earthquake there—Account of earthquake at Constantinople—Busbecq returns to Constantinople—Hires a house there—Is forced to go back to his former abode—Description of it—Anecdotes of animals in it—Busbecq’s menagerie—How Busbecq’s friend availed himself of the Turkish abhorrence of pigs—Stories of a lynx, a crane, a stag—Turkish mendicants—Turkish slaves—Busbecq’s kite-shooting—His tame partridges from Chios—Mode of keeping them—Artificial egg-hatching in Egypt—Turkish horses—Camels—Their use in war—Turkish commissariat—Turkish and Christian soldiers contrasted—Their clothing and equipment—Illustration from CÆsar of Turkish tactics—Turkish kindness to animals—Cats preferred to dogs—Mahomet and his cat—Narrow escape of a Venetian who ill-treated a bird—Turkish fondness for birds—Tame nightingales and goldfinches—Turkish women and marriage laws—Divorces—Baths for women—Extraordinary story of an old woman—Busbecq’s letters intercepted—Pashas puzzled by supposed cipher—Conversations with Roostem—Hungarian affairs—Ali Pasha appointed commander there—His character and appearance—Besieges Szigeth unsuccessfully—Turkish army preserved by advice of a Sanjak-bey—His subsequent treatment—Retreat and death of Ali Pasha—Capture of Gran—Skirmishes and raids in Croatia—Turkish and Persian dread of fire-arms—Story of Roostem’s corps of musketeers—Turkish opinion of duelling—Arslan bey—Account of the Mingrelians and their king—Busbecq’s life and occupations—Turkish archery—Turkish readiness to adopt foreign inventions and customs—Lemnian earth—Why some Turks have their children baptised—Parthian tactics of the Turks—Busbecq’s acquaintances of various nations—Rudeness of a Cavasse and Busbecq’s retaliation—Story of Roostem—Turkish treatment of ambassadors—Story of a Venetian ambassador—Emblematic present from Roostem—Beginning of Bajazet’s rebellion—Removal of him and Selim to new governments—Reluctance of Bajazet to obey—Selim marches on Ghemlik—Bajazet’s remonstrances and his father’s reply—Missions of Mehemet and Pertau Pashas to Selim and Bajazet—Reluctance of Solyman’s troops—The Mufti consulted—Message of Bajazet to Solyman—His preparations at Angora—Characters of the rival brothers—Address of Bajazet to his army—His defeat at Koniah and retreat to Amasia—Reputation he gains by 193his conduct—Solyman crosses to Asia—His motives—Busbecq a spectator of his departure—Description of the procession—Busbecq summoned to Solyman’s camp—Description of it—Turkish observance of Ramazan—Impression made on a Turk by the carnival—Why wine was forbidden by Mahomet—Turkish military punishments—Quarrel of Busbecq’s servants with some Janissaries—Light in which the Janissaries are regarded by the Sultan—Albert de Wyss—Bajazet’s proceedings at Amasia—Description of Persia—Characters of Shah Tahmasp and his son—Solyman’s policy towards Bajazet—Flight of Bajazet to Persia—Description of the celebration of Bairam by the army—Return of Busbecq to Constantinople—Incidents of Bajazet’s flight—Solyman is dissuaded from marching against Persia—Disaffection among his troops—Bajazet’s arrival in Persia—His reception by the Shah—Duplicity of the Shah—His probable motives—Bajazet’s troops separated and massacred in detail—He and his family are thrown into prison—Opinions as to his probable fate—Influence of these events on Busbecq’s negotiations—His course of policy—Conclusion.

Of course you have heard of the last arrangements. Well, my colleagues left me some time ago, and I am alone at Constantinople. A strange fancy, I think I hear you say. What on earth can have induced him to stay among savages, an exile from his dear native land? But while you exclaim at my choice, you do not forget to ask for every scrap of news I have to give, solemnly promising to accept it all—good, bad, and indifferent—just as it comes. You have other questions which you wish answered. What books am I reading? What am I doing? How do I get through the day? Do I ever go out? Come, come, what you are plaguing me for is, I see, not a letter but a diary. Again, you are specially anxious for information about Bajazet’s fortunes, touching which, you say, there are many rumours at home. You assert that I am under an engagement to give you news of him, and you demand heavy damages for breach of contract! I believe you intend dragging me into court, and are already preparing your pleadings! Pray do not be so hard! Restrain your passion, my friend; or if nothing else194 will serve, take the full sum; I will pay interest as well, in fact do or pay anything sooner than be brought into court, though indeed a demurrer would probably lie to your claim, for surely after so long an interval I might set up the Statute of Limitations.

When my colleagues, with whom my former letters have made you acquainted, saw that we had already wasted three years here, and that no progress had been made towards peace, or even towards an armistice of any duration, and there appeared hardly any hope of gaining anything if they stayed, they sought leave to return. Now I must tell you that it is easy enough to get here; the difficult thing is to get away!160 and they had much trouble before they could obtain Solyman’s consent. After this we had to decide whether we should all three leave, or I should remain behind, while my two colleagues, who had been longer at Constantinople, returned home. For this point Solyman had left for our decision, as he was afraid, if he kept one of us, that people would think that he was anxious for peace. My colleagues considered it was essential to the Emperor’s interest that one of us should remain. This was tolerably obvious; but, while I shared their opinion, I thought it politic to dissemble, and so, whenever the subject was mentioned in the presence of Turks, I took care to express my dissatisfaction with any arrangement which kept me at Constantinople. ‘Admitting that I had come to discharge the duties of an ambassador in ordinary, yet such a position implied that peace had been concluded. While this was uncertain, I did not see how I could remain at the Sultan’s court without disobeying my instructions, or at any rate going beyond them. The proper course,’ I added, ‘would be for one and all of us to receive our passports.’

I took this line in order to make them press me to stay, knowing that it would make a material difference in my position whether I remained at the request of the Turkish Government or of my own free will. I was fully alive to the fact that if none of us remained to represent his Majesty, there was a probability, or rather a certainty, of war; whereas if I stayed, the prospects of a peaceful arrangement would not be prejudiced. While communications were being exchanged between Vienna and Constantinople, a long time would elapse, in which many things might occur to improve our position. Finally, anything was better than needlessly to plunge into the horrors of war. These considerations did not blind me to the fact, that, as far as my own personal interest was concerned, I was acting imprudently in remaining behind. I foresaw the additional responsibility I must undertake, and the risks and dangers of the position I was to occupy, which, great as they must be in any case, would become extremely serious if the negotiations ended in war. But men who take upon themselves the onerous office of ambassador must not allow considerations of this kind to come between them and their duty to the State.

Roostem, in his excessive anxiety to keep me, played as it were into my hands. No doubt he understood how much the chances of peace would be diminished by our departure in a body, and the rupture of the negotiations which were pending. His chief reason for dreading an outbreak of hostilities was the effect it would probably have on Solyman’s sons, who would be sure to take up arms as soon as their father marched for Hungary. However quiet Selim might be, he knew that Bajazet would be certain to attack him; and the deep interest which he, his wife, and his mother-in-law took in the younger prince, made him anxious that nothing should occur to provoke a step on his part which he foresaw would be his destruction. Therefore, having summoned us to his house, he communicated at great length to my colleagues the considerations he wished to be brought before his Majesty to induce him to agree to the terms the Sultan offered. But he urged me to stay at my post, and to persevere in my efforts for the re-establishment of peace. There was no doubt, he said, that the course he recommended would meet with the Emperor’s approval, as he had never shown himself averse to peace. I, on the other hand, expressed annoyance at his proposals, and made objections to them, as far as I could do so with decency and safety. On this Roostem grew eager, and begged me not to take a step which must necessarily put an end to all prospect of peace, saying that his Emperor161 was eager to lead his army into Hungary, and would have done so long ago, if he himself had not through the influence of certain ladies162 (meaning his wife and mother-in-law) prevented him. To use his own expression, they had detained him by seizing the hem of his garment. He implored us not to go on teasing and provoking against ourselves the rage of a sleeping lion. I began to be less decided in my refusals, and to say that I would stay, did I not fear that the Pashas would be unreasonable in their treatment of me. I felt sure, I added, that if anything occurred to displease them they would hold me responsible for it, and make me the scapegoat, even for matters totally out of my power to prevent. Roostem told me not to be afraid, saying that whatever turn things might take, nothing should be laid to my charge; if I would only remain he would undertake to protect me, and, to use his own expression, would regard me as his brother. I replied that I would think it over, and so we departed.

The next day we were summoned to the Divan,163 or Council of State, where almost the same scene was enacted, except that Roostem, on account of the presence of the other Pashas was more guarded in his language. Before I finally agreed to remain, I deposited a protest with the Pashas, in which I put on record that I was remaining without knowing what my master’s wishes might be, and therefore reserved all questions for his decision without prejudice. I undertook nothing, and did not engage to be responsible for the result which God had foreordained. This protest was afterwards of great service to me when affairs looked gloomy, and the Pashas were inclined to treat me harshly. I have now given you my reasons for remaining.

The departure of my colleagues took place towards the end of August 1557. In the following winter the Sultan, according to his usual custom, removed to Adrianople, with the double object of making a demonstration against Hungary and of enjoying the good hawking and the bracing climate, which he thought were beneficial to his health. At the junction of the rivers near Adrianople are wide tracts of flooded lands, on which there are great quantities of wild ducks, geese, herons, eagles, cranes, and buzzards. To capture these he generally uses a small species of eagle; these birds are trained to seek their quarry in the clouds, and bring it down, or to seize it as it flies beneath them, and with one swoop dash it to the ground.164 I hear he has falcons so well trained that they can bring down a crane, striking it under the wing in such a way as to keep clear of its beak, on which they would otherwise be impaled. Their boldness, however, is not always successful, for if they make the least mistake, they immediately suffer for it; the crane’s beak goes through them like an arrow, and they tumble lifeless to the ground.

For the reasons I have mentioned, the Sultan makes a practice every year of repairing to Adrianople at the beginning of the winter, and of not returning to Constantinople till the frogs drive him away with their croaking.

Shortly after the departure of the Court, I received a letter from Roostem ordering me to follow. Some horsemen were attached to me as an escort, and also sixteen Janissaries, either as a mark of honour or to prevent my escaping. As I was directed to come with all speed, at first we travelled by long stages, but we had scarcely commenced our third day’s journey when the Janissaries began to grumble. It was winter, and they had to trudge along muddy roads, so our long marches were not at all to their liking; they declared that when they were campaigning with the Sultan they did not march more than half the distance, and said they could not stand it. This troubled me, as I did not wish to be hard on them. At last, while I was considering with my attendants what to do for them, one of them suggested that they were very fond of a sort of omelette, which my cook compounded of wine and eggs with plenty of sugar and spices. ‘Possibly,’ said he, ‘if they were served with this for breakfast every day, they would make fewer complaints of fatigue and be more obliging.’ Queer as the suggestion was, I determined to try it, and the result was a most complete success, for they were so charmed with the omelette, and so merry with the wine with which I plied them, that they were ready to start before the order came, and volunteered to follow me to Buda if I would always treat them so.

Travelling thus, I arrived at Adrianople, where I was obliged to listen to the complaints, not to say abuse, of Roostem about the raids and robberies of the Hungarians. To these, however, the answer was not far to seek, for I was able to tell him of the numerous wrongs which our people daily received from Turkish soldiers. He could not be surprised, I added, if the Christians retaliated.

I was enabled to answer him thus by the arrival of a courier with despatches from the Emperor, in which he narrated the outrages perpetrated every day by the Turks in our territory, in violation of the armistice which we had made for a fixed period on the departure of my colleagues; how they harried the miserable peasantry with their ceaseless raids, plundered their property, and carried off into captivity themselves, their wives, and their children.

I must not omit to mention that on the day of the courier’s arrival at Adrianople there was a great earthquake, À propos of which he related, that he had felt an earthquake, which he considered to be the same, at Nisch and Sofia, and many other places through which he had journeyed, so that the air enclosed in the caverns of the earth seemed to have run a race with him and to have travelled almost as fast as he had ridden. In confirmation of this theory, I must tell you that a similar earthquake was felt four days later at Constantinople; here are the data and you can make your own deductions.

I may remark that Constantinople is very subject to earthquakes, and I remember that once, a little after midnight, our lodging began to shake so violently that we thought the house would fall. I had been sound asleep, but when it woke me and I could see by my night-light books and cups tumbling about, laths and stones falling from the wall, and the whole room shaking violently, for a moment I was dumbfoundered and knew not what to make of it. At last, when it occurred to me that it was an earthquake, I jumped up and ran out, for fear the house should tumble in upon me. The same earthquake continued for some days, though the shocks were not so violent. All through the city, and especially in our lodging and in St. Sophia, even where the walls are most solid, may be seen huge cracks caused by settlements from earthquakes.

I stayed at Adrianople about three months, and then, after concluding a seven months’ armistice, I was taken back to Constantinople in March. As I was tired of being confined in the same lodging, I had recourse to the cavasse who acted as my keeper (for among the various duties which, as I have already told you, are assigned to men of this profession amongst the Turks, is the custody of ambassadors), and asked him to allow me, like other ambassadors, to hire a house with a little bit of garden or pleasure-ground, at my own expense. The cavasse made no objection, as it would be a saving for his master of 400 gold ducats a year if I took a house for myself, this being the price which the Sultan paid for my present lodgings; so I hired a house, or rather block of buildings, with some land about it, where I intended to lay out a garden, hoping by this means to divert my mind from the cares and anxieties of my position.

When, however, my cavasse found it was impossible to watch me in a house, which was furnished with several means of egress and lay in its own ample grounds, as strictly as in a caravanserai (a word with which I think my former letters have made you familiar), where all the windows were closely barred, and to which there was only one entrance, he changed his mind, and induced the Pashas, who had now returned from Adrianople, to shut me up once more within the walls of our old lodging. Thankful, indeed, was I that I did not get worse treatment, for some of the Pashas held that, now that I was alone, it was a needless extravagance to give me such a roomy lodging. The majority, however, of the council were more considerate, and I was allowed to return to my old prison-house.

I will take the opportunity of giving you a description of my abode. The house is situated on high ground in the most populous quarter of Constantinople. From the back windows there is a lovely view of the sea; though we are at some distance from the shore we can distinguish the gambols of the dolphins in the water, while the prospect is bounded by Mount Olympus in Asia, white with perpetual snow. On every side it is open to the breezes, and is on this account considered a peculiarly healthy residence. So airy a situation the Turks appear to think too good for foreigners, as they have not only put iron bars on our windows, to the discomfort of our eyes, but have built up parapets which prevent our getting fresh air or a good view. This was done to meet the complaints of our neighbours, who declared that their houses, which stood on lower ground, were completely exposed to the gaze of the Christians. In the centre there is a large open space or court in which is a well. No one lives on the ground-floor, but on the upper storey there is a verandah running round the court, out of which open the chambers which form the outer part of the building, and which consist of a great number of small rooms, all built after the same pattern, like the cells of a monastery. The front windows open on the public street leading to the palace; and from them the ambassadors have an opportunity, nearly every Friday (which answers to our Sunday) of seeing the Sultan on his way to his devotions. As he passes, the cavasse and Janissaries make their bow, or rather return his, for among the Turks it is the custom for the man of higher rank to bow first. In conformity with this rule, the Sultan himself does not wait for the people in the street to bow to him, but first bows himself, and they return his salute amid loyal shouts and blessings. The ground-floor of the edifice is intended for a stable. The vaulted roofs, which are universal throughout the building, render it safe from fire on the inside; while on the outside it is protected by a covering of lead.

While the house has many advantages, it must be allowed that it has corresponding inconveniences. Everything in it is constructed for use, and nothing for ornament or comfort; it has no beauty or novelty of design to render it attractive. It has no garden to take a walk in; not so much as a tree, or shrub, or patch of grass to refresh the eye, while it swarms with different kinds of vermin, such as weasels, snakes, lizards, and scorpions. Sometimes when a man goes to fetch his hat in the morning, he has the unpleasant surprise of finding a snake coiled round it. However, to let you into the secret of our diversions, we contrive to extract some amusement from these creatures. Sometimes a weasel has a battle-royal with a snake, with my whole household standing round, and in spite of its struggles drags it off in triumph to its hole; sometimes again a weasel changes its abode, and moves its young elsewhere. For instance, the other day, when my friends and I were still at dinner, one of them jumped down on the middle of the table from her nest in the roof with a young one in her mouth. On our pulling her away, she left it there, and stationed herself at the door to see what would happen to the cub. After amusing ourselves with the ugly little beast we placed it on the floor, whereupon the mother darted in, caught it up, and carried it off to its new home.

We also had an opportunity of inspecting a strange, reptile from the stables, which had been trodden on by the horses and killed; it was either a snake or a python. Its stomach appeared to be very much swollen, so I ordered my people to cut it open, and there we found three good-sized mice. I could not make out how an animal that crawled so slowly could catch such nimble creatures; nor could I understand how it contrived to swallow them whole, when its jaws were, as it seemed, so narrow. But my difficulty was solved by my finding another snake in the act of swallowing a toad or poisonous frog. It had seized it by the hind legs, and had already sucked them and a good part of its body down its throat. The toad was still alive, and kept endeavouring to get away from its enemy, struggling as hard as it could with its front feet. When I first saw it I was thoroughly puzzled. I thought the creature was some strange abortion, for it appeared to me to be a two-footed beast, with an enormous tail. When I saw what it was, I began beating it with a stick, and tried to make it release its victim. It was frightened, and did its best to disgorge its prey in order to escape; but it was some time before it could succeed in getting rid of the toad, for it had sucked it in so far that the creature stuck in its throat. At last, after much difficulty, it managed to disgorge; but then it could not shut its mouth, and gaped hideously with its open jaws until we killed it. My stick, if Pliny is to be believed, would be serviceable to women in childbirth.

Besides the creatures that breed in the building, I keep a good many animals, which furnish my people with employment and amusement. I am heartily glad to have something for them to do, as otherwise they would get terribly homesick. For what better resource is left us in our isolation than seeking to forget our cares in the society of animals? There is not much amusement to be had, I warrant you, in a great stone prison-house like ours. The chief favourites are the monkeys, on account of their strange tricks, which are very amusing. You may generally see round their cage a group of admiring bystanders, who watch their mischievous pranks with the keenest interest. I have also wolves, bears, broad-horned stags—which are frequently but incorrectly called fallow deer—and common deer, likewise gazelles, lynxes, ichneumons, and of the weasel kind the varieties called martens and sables; also, if you care to know, a pig as well, whose companionship I am told by my grooms is wholesome for horses. I certainly ought to have given him a place in my catalogue, as he attracts numbers of Asiatics to my lodging. They come to see this unclean animal, which the laws of their religion forbid their tasting. The beast is all the more interesting to them, because pigs are never kept, or even seen, in their country. Indeed, a Turk would as lief touch one of them as I would touch a man with the plague.

I will tell you a capital story of a friend of mine, who took advantage of this prejudice. He wished to send me a private parcel, so he got a little pig, and put it with the parcel in a sack, which he then told his servant to take to me. When he came to the door my cavasse met him, and asked him what he had got in the sack. The servant whispered in his ear, ‘It is a little pig, a present from a friend.’ The cavasse gave the sack a poke with his stick, on which the little pig began to squeak. The moment he heard it he made a hasty retreat, crying out, ‘Well, take your nasty dirty present in, if you must, and be hanged to you.’ Then, with a look of intense disgust, he turned to his fellow Mussulmans, and said, ‘How extraordinarily fond the Christians are of the flesh of that filthiest of animals; they positively cannot live without it.’ Thus the servant was admitted, and brought in the secret parcel.

I have also many kinds of birds, such as eagles, ravens, jackdaws, foreign kinds of ducks, Balearic cranes, and partridges. From this you will see that my house is full of animals, ‘A Noah’s ark, in short,’ as one of my friends observed.

Not only is the menagerie a great resource for my people by keeping them from fretting, but I also derive advantage from it myself, as I am able to verify the wonderful stories I have read in various authors of the great affection beasts are capable of entertaining towards human beings. I never ventured to accept these statements for facts, until I saw an Assyrian lynx so attach himself to one of my people after only a few days’ acquaintance, that one could only explain it by the theory that he had fallen in love with him. When he was present the lynx would give him many caresses that plainly showed his affection, hugging and all but kissing him. When he wished to go, the animal would try to detain him by placing its claws gently on the hem of his garment, and would cast wistful looks after him as he went away. During his absence the lynx was in a state of the deepest melancholy, constantly gazing at the door till the man returned; on which the creature, strange to say, recovered his spirits and welcomed his friend. When I took the man away with me to the Turkish camp across the water, the poor beast was inconsolable, refused its food, and after a few days pined away. I was much annoyed at this, for I had intended to make him, with a very tame ichneumon I had, a present to the Emperor, on account of the remarkable beauty of his coat; it was indeed so handsome, that if a common lynx were set by his side you would hardly think that they both belonged to the same species. It is in Assyria that the handsomest lynxes are found, and their skins are worth fifteen or sixteen golden crowns. I have no doubt that they are the same as the Babylonian skins considered so valuable in former days, which are mentioned in the Digest in the chapter on Farmers of the Revenue.165

Here is another story, which relates to a bird. Among other cranes I have a Balearic one. This species is distinguished from the common kinds by a white tuft of feathers hanging down from either ear, and also by the black feathers which cover the front of its neck. These last the Turks are wont to stick in their caps. It also differs in size from common cranes. This Balearic crane I speak of showed most distinct signs of affection for a Spanish soldier, whom I ransomed from captivity, being so attached to him that it used to march beside him for many hours as he walked, to halt when he stopped, and to stay by him when he sat down; and it allowed itself to be stroked and patted by him, though it could not bear to be touched by any one else. When he was away, it used to go to his room and knock at the door with its beak. If it was opened, it pried about to see if it could find him. When it found itself disappointed, it used to go all over the house and disturb us all with cries so loud and shrill that we were obliged in self-defence to shut it up; but when he returned, it would run to meet him with outspread wings and queer comical gestures, as if it were practising some outlandish jig, or preparing to do battle with a pygmy.166 To be short, at last it made a custom of sleeping under his bed; and one day actually presented him with an egg.167

You have heard the marks of affection for men displayed by two animals. I will now give you an instance of an ungrateful beast, which proved itself both savage and treacherous. I had a tame stag which lived with us for many months and seemed quite domesticated. When the rutting season arrived, however, he suddenly became so frantic, that, forgetful of the ties of hospitality and kindness, he as it were declared war on us and treated us all like enemies, attacking with his horns everyone he met, so that we were obliged to shut him up. One night he broke out in spite of bars and bolts, and frightened the horses, which, after the Turkish fashion, were passing the night in the open air in the courtyard. When the grooms ran out to quiet the disturbance, and tried to drive the stag back to his prison, he not only refused to go in, but turned on the men and wounded several of them. Excited by this they drove the foe into the stable, which, as I said, was very spacious, and there with my permission attacked him with lances, hunting spears, and every weapon that came to hand. At first he made a gallant defence, but at last, overcome by numbers, he fell pierced with wounds in every limb; for more than forty men were arrayed against him, and he was all alone. Thus he atoned for his bad conduct to his hosts. All the ambassadors at Constantinople had a share of the fruits of that night’s chase, for I had the stag cut up and sent them each a present of venison.

The stag was one of very large size, like those that are in the habit of going up from Hungary to Austria at the beginning of autumn for the purpose of mating with their kind. I got him from beggars who made a profit of him. They went about collecting alms, and before asking for money they repeated a prayer, in which there was frequent mention of the name of God. As often as it occurred they bowed their heads, and they had trained the stag to do the same. By this the lower orders were led to imagine that the animal recognised the name of God, and gave many a penny to its owners. As the stag was an unusually fine specimen of its kind, I had intended bringing him to the Emperor.

Now that we are talking of Turkish beggars, I may as well give you some account of their ways. They are not so numerous as with us, and for the most part consist of religious impostors of one kind or another, wandering from place to place. Some feign madness or idiocy as an excuse for their begging, for lunatics and crazy folk are considered sure of salvation by the Turks, and therefore regarded as saints whilst still on earth. There are Arabs too among them, who carry about with them banners, under which they declare their ancestors fought to extend the Moslem religion. They do not beg indiscriminately or from everybody, but force upon the passers-by in the evening a tallow candle, a lemon, or a pomegranate, for which they expect double or treble its value, that so by a pretence of selling they may avoid the disgrace of asking.

But the people who among us are beggars among them are slaves, for when a slave has lost the use of his limbs his master is still bound to maintain him; besides, however feeble a slave may be, they manage to get some service from him. I remember ransoming a Spanish gentleman, who had been an officer in his own army. Though he was completely crippled by his wounds, yet the Turk who had bought him managed to make some profit of him. He took him over to Asia, where flocks of geese are kept, and hired him out as goose-herd, by which he turned a nice little penny.

I have my doubts as to whether the man who first abolished slavery is to be regarded as a public benefactor. I know that slavery brings with it various disadvantages, but these are counterbalanced by corresponding advantages. If a just and mild form of slavery, such as the Roman laws ordained, especially with the State for master, had continued, perhaps fewer gallows and gibbets would be needed to keep those in order who, having nothing but life and liberty, are driven by want into every conceivable crime. Freedom when combined with extreme poverty has made many a man a rascal; it causes temptation such as few can resist. Nature has denied to many the power of self-control, and the knowledge which is indispensable for acting aright; they need the support and guidance of a superior as the only means of stopping them in their career of vice. They are like savage animals, and require chains to prevent their becoming dangerous.

In Turkey the class which is likely to go astray is controlled by a master’s authority, while the master is supported by the slave’s labour. Both publicly and privately the Turks derive great advantages from this institution. Slave labour enables them to live both comfortably and economically; indeed they have a proverb to the effect that no one can be considered poor as long as he is master of a single slave. So also in the department of public works, if there is any building, removing, clearing, or breaking up to be done, there is a constant supply of slave labour to execute the work. We never attain the grandeur of the works of antiquity. What is the reason? Hands are wanting, or, in other words, slave labour. I need not mention what means of acquiring every kind of knowledge the ancients possessed in learned and educated slaves. Well, well, you must not put down all this as my serious opinion; it is a mere fancy which I should be sorry you should take in sober earnest.168

Slave-hunting is the chief source of profit to the Turkish soldier. If he brings back from a campaign nothing except one or two slaves, he may consider himself well repaid for his exertions, as the price of an ordinary slave is from forty to fifty crowns, and twice this sum may be obtained for a slave who is young or handsome or a skilful craftsman. This will give you a notion of the gain they make, when they carry off some five or six thousand prisoners from a town, and will show you how profitable their raids must be. I observe that the Romans also did not despise gains of this kind; nay, their own writers tell us how they sold by public auction the populations of entire cities, numbering 25,000 or 30,000 souls. The Turks would make of such a booty fifteen hundred thousand crowns more or less. They abstain, however, from exercising the rights of war over men of their own religion, and allow them to retain the status of freemen unimpaired.

But to return from this digression. As I have already spoken of my hunting, I must now tell you about my fowling. Kind as the Turks are to all animals, they are especially so to birds, and most of all to the kites, whom they regard as useful scavengers of their city. Accordingly these creatures, having neither snares nor missiles to fear, are to be found in numbers at Constantinople, and are wonderfully tame. They come at one’s whistle, and pounce on pieces of food which are thrown into the air. My plan is to order a sheep to be killed; the kites are then whistled for, and fragments of the offal are thrown into the air. In a moment some ten, twelve, or twenty appear, and presently they gather so thick as almost to overshadow the house. Some are so bold that they will snatch the meat from my people’s hands as they hold it out. Meanwhile I post myself behind a pillar with my crossbow,169 pick out a kite, and make my clay bullets rattle on its wings or tail, till I have brought down one or two. I am obliged to bolt my gates before indulging in this sport for fear of irritating the Turks.

Talking of birds, I must tell you about my partridges, so that you may have a full account of all my amusements, and may perhaps feel the same surprise about the habits of these birds that I did. I had some partridges from Chios with red beaks and red legs, so tame that they became quite tiresome. They were continually at my feet, beating the dust from my velvet slippers with their beaks to dust themselves with. They got so troublesome that I ordered them to be shut up in a room, where they grew so fat that they died after a few days’ confinement. At least this is the account my servants give, and the question is whether to believe them or Pliny, for the latter has a passage to the effect that hares and partridges never grow fat. So far you have no ground for surprise, but listen to the rest of the story. Chios abounds in birds of this kind, which live there in the houses. Almost every peasant keeps more or less of them, according to his means or inclination. At dawn the public herd summons them by a whistle, and they run out in crowds, and gather on the road. Then following their keeper, like sheep do with us, they go into the fields, where they feed and sun themselves all day long. Towards evening they are recalled by the same signal, and return home in a body to their several roosts. This habit is said to be formed by the peasants putting the birds, as soon as they are hatched, into their bosom inside their shirt, and so carrying them about and nursing them for a day or two, lifting them from time to time to their mouth and feeding them with spittle. They become attached to their masters by such kind treatment (for indeed almost every animal has a more lasting feeling of gratitude than man), and do not forget those who nursed them. One precaution only must be taken; they must not be allowed to pass the night in the fields, for if this should occur once or twice they readily return to their natural habits, and prefer a free life to the company of man. I am doing my best to secure one of these partridge-tamers for the Emperor, so as to introduce the art into our country. Although I have not seen with my own eyes this system in practice, yet its existence is established by witnesses so numerous and credible, that I place the same reliance on my ears that I should on my eyes. The same may be said of the following anecdote, which is here so commonly reported and so universally admitted, that any one, who ventures to throw doubt upon it, is thought an ignoramus. Those who come hither from Egypt, as many do every day, uniformly declare, that in that country eggs are not put under hens to be hatched in our fashion, but that in spring a sort of vast oven is made out of a big dunghill by certain men who carry on the trade. To this the whole neighbourhood far and wide bring their eggs, which are put in and quickened by the heat of the sun and the rotting dung. In due time the eggs produce chickens, which are distributed by the managers of the business to the people who brought the eggs, not by counting, for that would be too long a process, but by measure. I have less hesitation in telling you this, as there is a passage in Vopiscus quoting a letter of Adrian’s, in which he vents his wrath on the Egyptians in the following words:—‘I wish them nothing worse than to be fed on their own chickens, which are bred in a way too foul to speak of.’170 I have no doubt this was an old custom among the Egyptians, and I suspect it was on that account that Adrian reproached them with the foulness of their food, inasmuch as they lived on chickens hatched in dunghills. I may, however, be mistaken, and I leave the point for your decision.

I will now complete the catalogue of my amusements. I keep several thoroughbred horses, both Syrian, Cilician, Arabian, and Cappadocian, and also baggage camels, so as always to have cattle ready for my return journey. I do this, because I wish the Turks to believe that, having fulfilled all my master’s instructions, I am only waiting for the Sultan’s permission to depart; for this I have now been pressing for a long time past in very urgent terms, the truth being that, in consequence of their present discords and the civil war between the brothers, I do not despair of negotiating a peace on fair and reasonable terms.

I am particularly fond of watching my horses, when in the summer evenings they are led out from their stable one by one, and picketed in the courtyard to enjoy the night air, and take their repose in cooler quarters. They come prancing from their stalls with their necks arched, tossing their manes as if they appreciated the interest we take in them. Their fore-feet are hobbled, and one of their hind-feet is fastened by a rope to a peg. The Turkish horse is the gentlest creature in the world, and also the most capable of attachment to its master or groom. These qualities are the results of the kind treatment they receive from the Turks during their early training. I saw, when I was travelling to Cappadocia through Pontus or the part of Bithynia which is deservedly called Axylos171 (woodless), what care the peasants take of the foals while they are still quite young and tender, how they pet them, how they bring them into their rooms and almost to their tables, and how they handle them and stroke them. They seemed to regard them almost as their children. Round their neck all have a band like a necklace full of amulets against the evil eye, which is greatly dreaded. The grooms in whose care they are placed treat them with equal kindness, making them fond of them by continually stroking them, and never beating them cruelly with a stick unless they are absolutely compelled to do so. Being thus used they become extremely attached to men, and yet you will not find one which this treatment has made a kicker or a biter or refractory. Such vices are seldom met with in this country. But, good heavens, how different our system is from theirs! According to our method grooms think it essential to use the roughest words and loudest tones in talking to their horses, and to be for ever thrashing them. The consequence is that the horses quiver all over with terror on their entering the stable, and regard them with equal hatred and fear.172

The Turks like to have them trained to kneel down at command and so take up their rider, and to pick up from the ground in their teeth a stick, a mace, or a sword, and to give it to their master in the saddle. When they have learned to do these things, as an honour and a mark of their proficiency, they fit silver rings in their nostrils, to show that they have been thoroughly trained. I saw a horse who, when his master was thrown from the saddle, would stand by him without moving a step, and others who would go round their groom, as he stood at a distance, and halt at his bidding. I also saw some who, when their master was dining with me in a room upstairs, kept their ears pricked up to catch his voice, and neighed when they heard it. It is a peculiarity of these horses that they always come in at the end of their work with stiff and outstretched necks. Again, they cannot be pulled up or turned sharply, which I think

I may say is the fault of the bit, which is of the same kind and shape throughout Turkey, and is not, as among us, made more or less severe to suit the horse’s mouth. Their horses’ shoes are not so wide open in the middle as with us, but are almost solid and unbroken, so as to protect the feet more thoroughly.173 Turkish horses live much longer than ours, for you may see some twenty years old with as much spirit and strength as eight-year-olds have with us, and some, which for their great services were pensioned for life in the Sultan’s stables, are said to have lasted to their fiftieth year, and even longer. During the hot summer nights the Turks do not keep their horses under cover, but expose them, as I said, to the night air with horse-cloths over them, their litter being composed of dry dung. For this purpose all through the year they gather the horses’ droppings, and after drying them in the sun break them up into powder. This forms their horses’ bedding, and is the only kind of litter they have. They use no straw, not even for food, but diet their horses on a moderate portion of hay and a little barley. They prefer having them too thin to too fat, considering that in this condition they are fitter for travelling and work of every kind. They cover their horses with the rugs I mentioned, in summer just the same as in winter, but change them according to the season. They consider these coverings useful for producing a sleek coat, and also necessary as a protection against cold, for their horses are chilly and cannot stand exposure.

As I said, I enjoy looking at my horses when, towards sunset, they are being picketed out in the court. When I call them by their names of Arab or Caramanian, or whatever else it may be, they neigh in reply, and give me a look. I have taught them to know me by sometimes going down and giving them each a pumpkin skin. In truth I am glad of any employment to divert my thoughts from my troubles.

I have six she camels procured, nominally for the purpose of carrying baggage, but in reality that I may bring them to the royal family, as I think it not impossible that they may like to keep a stud of these useful animals. There are two things from which, in my opinion, the Turks derive the greatest advantage, namely, rice among grains and the camel among beasts of burden, both of which are exceedingly well suited for the distant campaigns they make. The first keeps well, affords a wholesome food for men, and a little of it goes a long way. Camels carry the heaviest weights, endure hunger and thirst, and require very little care. One driver can attend to six camels. They are, I may say, the most obedient creatures in the world, and they need no currycomb or scraper, but are groomed with brushes as clothes are with us. They lie, or, more correctly speaking, kneel on the bare ground to receive their loads. But if the load should be excessive, they give a grunt by way of protest and refuse to rise. If the weight be unduly heavy, it does not take much to rupture them, especially if the road be muddy or slippery. It is a pretty sight to see them kneeling in a circle with their heads together, and taking their food and drink out of the same bucket or manger without any quarrelling or discontent, though their fare be scanty. On an emergency, if food is scarce, they browse on brambles and thorns, and the more these make their mouths bleed the more they enjoy them. The Scythians supply some camels, but more are produced by Syria and Assyria, where they are kept in very large herds and are bred in great numbers. They are so cheap there, that sometimes a mare of good pedigree is bartered for a hundred camels. Yet in this perhaps it is not the cheapness of the camels that is so wonderful as the price asked and given for the mares, for such mares are valued so highly that the owner of one considers himself a rich man. The test of their excellence consists in their being ridden down the side of a steep and high mountain, and those that do not stumble in the descent are highly prized.

The Turkish monarch going to war takes with him over 40,000 camels and nearly as many baggage mules, of which a great part, when he is invading Persia, are loaded with rice and other kinds of grain. These mules and camels also serve to carry tents and armour, and likewise tools and munitions for the campaign. The territories, which bear the name of Persia, and are ruled by the Sophi, or Kizilbash as the Turks call him,174 are less fertile than our country, and even such crops as they bear are laid waste by the inhabitants in time of invasion in hopes of starving out the enemy, so that it is very dangerous for an army to invade Persia, if it be not furnished with abundant supplies. The invading army carefully abstains from encroaching on its magazines at the outset; as they are well aware that, when the season for campaigning draws to a close, they will have to retreat over districts wasted by the enemy, or scraped as bare by countless hordes of men and droves of baggage animals, as if they had been devastated by locusts; accordingly they reserve their stores as much as possible for this emergency. Then the Sultan’s magazines are opened, and a ration just sufficient to sustain life is daily weighed out to the Janissaries and other troops of the royal household.175 The rest of the army are badly off, unless they have provided some supplies at their own expense. And this is generally the case, for the greater number, and especially the cavalry, having from their long experience in war already felt such inconveniences, lead with them a sumpter horse by a halter, on which they carry many of the necessaries of life; namely, a small piece of canvas which they use as a tent, for protection against sun and rain, with the addition of some clothes and bedding; and as provisions for their private use, a leathern bag or two of the finest flour, with a small pot of butter, and some spices and salt, on which they sustain life when they are hard pressed. On such occasions they take out a few spoonfuls of flour and put them into water, adding some butter, and seasoning the mess with salt and spices; these ingredients are boiled, and a large bowl of gruel is thus obtained. Of this they eat once or twice a day, according to the quantity they have, without any bread, unless they have brought some biscuit with them. In this way they are able to support themselves from their own supplies for a month, or if necessary longer. Some fill a bladder with beef, dried and reduced to powder, which forms a highly nutritious food and expands greatly in the cooking, like the flour of which I spoke above. Sometimes too they have recourse to horseflesh; dead horses are of course plentiful in their great hosts, and such beasts as are in good condition when they die furnish a meal not to be despised by famished soldiers. I must not forget to tell you of the men who have lost their horses. When the Sultan moves his camp they stand in a long line by the side of the road with their saddles on their heads, as a sign that they have lost their steeds and need assistance for the purchase of others. An allowance is then made to them by the Sultan at his discretion.

From this you will see that it is the patience, self-denial, and thrift of the Turkish soldier that enable him to face the most trying circumstances, and come safely out of the dangers that surround him. What a contrast to our men! Christian soldiers on a campaign refuse to put up with their ordinary food, and call for thrushes, becaficos, and such like dainty dishes! If these are not supplied they grow mutinous and work their own ruin; and, if they are supplied, they are ruined all the same. For each man is his own worst enemy, and has no foe more deadly than his own intemperance, which is sure to kill him, if the enemy be not quick. It makes me shudder to think of what the result of a struggle between such different systems must be; one of us must prevail and the other be destroyed, at any rate we cannot both exist in safety. On their side is the vast wealth of their empire, unimpaired resources, experience and practice in arms, a veteran soldiery, an uninterrupted series of victories, readiness to endure hardships, union, order, discipline, thrift, and watchfulness. On ours are found an empty exchequer, luxurious habits, exhausted resources, broken spirits, a raw and insubordinate soldiery, and greedy generals; there is no regard for discipline, license runs riot, the men indulge in drunkenness and debauchery, and, worst of all, the enemy are accustomed to victory, we, to defeat. Can we doubt what the result must be? The only obstacle is Persia, whose position on his rear forces the invader to take precautions. The fear of Persia gives us a respite, but it is only for a time. When he has secured himself in that quarter, he will fall upon us with all the resources of the East. How ill prepared we are to meet such an attack it is not for me to say.

I now return to the point from which I made this digression. I mentioned that baggage animals are used in a campaign for carrying armour and tents. These for the most part belong to the Janissaries. The Turks take great care to have their soldiers in good health and protected against the inclemency of the weather. They must defend themselves from the enemy, for their health the State will undertake to provide. Therefore you may see a Turk better clad than armed. They are especially afraid of cold, and even in summer time wear three garments, of which the innermost one, or shirt, is woven of coarse thread and gives a great deal of warmth. For protection against cold and rain they are furnished with tents, in which each man is given just room enough for his body, so that one tent holds twenty-five or thirty Janissaries. The cloth for the clothes I referred to is supplied by the State, and is distributed after the following fashion. The soldiers at nightfall are summoned by companies to the office for the distribution of such stores, where parcels of cloth are ready in separate packets according to the number of men in each company. They march in, and take their chance in the dark, so that if any soldier’s cloth is of inferior quality to that of his comrades, he has nought to grumble at save his own bad luck. For the same reason their pay is not given them by tale, but by weight, to prevent anyone accusing the paymaster of giving him light or clipped coins. Moreover, their pay is always given them the day before it is actually due.

The convoy of armour, of which I spoke, is intended chiefly for the use of the royal horse-guards, as the Janissaries are lightly equipped, and generally do not fight at close quarters, but at a distance with muskets. Well, when the enemy is near, and a battle is expected, the stock of armour is produced, consisting for the most part of antiquated pieces picked up on the fields which have been the scene of Turkish victories; they are distributed to the royal horse guards, who at other times have only their light shield to protect them. Where so little pains is taken to provide each man with a suit that fits him, I need hardly tell you that they are but clumsily equipped. One man’s cuirass is too tight, another’s helmet too big; a third gets a coat of mail too heavy for him to bear; one way or another no one is properly accoutred. Yet they never grumble, holding that a man who quarrels with his armour must needs be a cowardly fellow, and are confident that they will make a stout fight of it themselves whatever their equipment may be. This feeling is the result of their great successes and military experience. In the same spirit they do not hesitate to turn their veteran infantry, who never have fought on horseback, into cavalry, for they are firmly convinced that a man who has courage and military experience will do brave service in whatever kind of fighting he may be engaged.

I think the Romans were of the same opinion, especially Julius CÆsar, who they relate was wont to say, ‘his soldiers even when perfumed would fight well.’176 For what should we consider to have been his intention, when, before he went to his conference with Ariovistus, he mounted the tenth legion? In my opinion it was that they might fight on horseback if necessary, a kind of fighting to which they were by no means accustomed. For we know that among the Romans the drill of the infantry was quite different from that of the cavalry. But if, in your opinion, CÆsar’s design was to transport the legion on horses and employ them on foot, we are driven to the conclusion that CÆsar involved his troops in a most hazardous operation. For the highly trained cavalry of Ariovistus were so close that they could annoy the Romans with stones; consequently, if they had suddenly charged, the legion would have had no time to dismount, send their horses to the rear, and form line of battle. According to our notions, such an arrangement would have been the height of folly. But, whichever of these explanations is the correct one, it was by confidence in their experience of arms, though with a training quite different from our system, that the Romans in ancient times brought their wars to a triumphant conclusion, and the same reason will account for the uniform successes of the Turks in modern days. But enough of this.

I now return to what I mentioned, namely, that the Turks behave kindly to every sort of animal. The dog among them is considered a foul and unclean animal, and therefore they keep it out of their houses; its place is taken by the cat, a creature endowed, as they think, with far more correct notions of propriety than the dog. For this preference they quote the example of Mahomet their lawgiver, who was so fond of his cat, that when she had fallen asleep on his sleeve as he sat at table, and the hour summoned him to the mosque to his devotions, he preferred to cut off his sleeve rather than disturb her sleep. Notwithstanding that such is their feeling about dogs, and though they are public property, not having masters, and watching special streets and wards rather than particular houses, and though they live on the refuse which is thrown out into the highways, yet if there should be in the neighbourhood a bitch with young, they go to her and pile round her bones and scraps of cakes and porridge, and this they think a charitable action. If, in conversation on this topic, I accused them of giving to a brute what they probably would not give to a rational being of their own nation, or at any rate would refuse to a Christian, they replied, that inasmuch as God has endowed man with reason, a noble organ for every purpose, so that no misfortune befalls him, which he has not brought on himself by his own misconduct, he therefore deserves less compassion; but that nothing has been granted to brutes by God except certain natural instincts and appetites, which they cannot help following, and, therefore, they have a claim upon us for sympathy and assistance. For this reason they are indignant if any beast be put to death by torture, or pleasure be sought in its slaughter, as a Venetian goldsmith lately found to his cost. He was amusing himself with bird-catching, and had taken among others a bird the size of a cuckoo, and almost the same colour; its beak was not large, but its throat could be expanded by force so as to receive the fist of a full-grown man. As he was naturally fond of a joke, and was struck by the strangeness of the phenomenon, he fastened the bird to the lintel of his door with its wings outspread and with its throat forced open by a peg, so as to show a huge orifice. The Turks who were passing by in crowds kept stopping and looking up, but when they perceived the bird was alive and moving, struck with compassion they exclaimed, it was a shame that a harmless bird should be so tortured, called the goldsmith out, seized him by the neck, and dragged him before the judge who tries capital charges, and he was near being bastinadoed, when a messenger came from the gentleman, who administers the law to the Venetians at Constantinople, and is called the Venetian Baily,177 to demand his release; the application was favourably received by the judge, and the goldsmith was dismissed, to the great indignation of the Turks who were present. Thus was he preserved. This goldsmith was a frequent visitor at my house, and I had a hearty laugh when he told me the whole story, and what a fright he had had. Moreover he brought the bird for my inspection. I have described its appearance, and it is said to fly at night and suck cows’ udders. I fancy it is the same as the goat-sucker of the ancients. This story will show you how merciful the Turks are to all kinds of animals, and especially to birds.178

Opposite our lodging there is a lofty plane tree remarkable for the extent of ground its branches cover, and the thickness of its foliage; here bird-catchers sometimes station themselves with a great number of small birds. Many people go to them and ransom their prisoners for a trifle, and then release them from their hands one by one. They generally fly up into the plane tree, where they clean themselves from the dirt of their cages, chirping all the while. Then the Turks who ransomed them say to each other: ‘Do you hear how yon bird congratulates himself on his freedom, and is thanking me for it?’

You will ask then, are the Turks such Pythagoreans that every animal is considered sacred among them, and that they eat no flesh? Far from it; on the contrary they usually abstain from nothing that may be set before them, whether boiled or roast. Indeed they say that sheep were born for slaughter, but they think it atrocious that people should seek to find pleasure in their agonies and torments. As for the smaller birds, who make the country places and fields resound with their song, some of the Turks cannot be induced to kill them, or even to keep them shut up in cages, thinking it a shame to rob them of their liberty. There are different opinions, however, among them on this subject. Some at any rate keep in their houses nightingales, that sing very sweetly, and make a profit by hiring them out in the spring-time. I have seen people carrying about goldfinches so well trained, that, when a coin was shown them from a window above, they would fly to almost any distance to get it; and, if the holder did not let it be pulled away, they would perch on his hand and go with him from room to room, trying all the time to wrest the coin out of his hand; the moment they got it, they would fly back by the way they had come to their master, who was standing in the street and calling them back by ringing a bell, and would give him the coin, receiving some hemp-seed as a reward. But I must stop, or you will think that I wish to imitate Pliny or Ælian, and compose a history of animals.

Passing on to other topics, I will tell you about Turkish women and the manner in which they are guarded. The Turks are the most careful people in the world of the modesty of their wives, and therefore keep them shut up at home and hide them away, so that they scarce see the light of day.179 But if they have to go into the streets, they are sent out so covered and wrapt up in veils that they seem to those who meet them mere gliding ghosts. They have the means of seeing men through their linen or silken veils, while no part of their own body is exposed to men’s view. For it is a received opinion among them, that no woman who is distinguished in the very smallest degree by her figure or youth, can be seen by a man without his desiring her, and therefore without her receiving some contamination; and so it is the universal practice to confine the women to the harem. Their brothers are allowed to see them, but not their brothers-in-law. Men of the richer classes, or of higher rank, make it a condition when they marry, that their wives shall never set foot outside the threshold, and that no man or woman shall be admitted to see them for any reason whatever, not even their nearest relations, except their fathers and mothers, who are allowed to pay a visit to their daughters at the Turkish Easter.180

On the other hand, if the wife has a father of high rank, or has brought a larger dowry than usual, the husband promises on his part that he will take no concubine, but will keep to her alone. Otherwise, the Turks are not forbidden by any law to have as many concubines as they please in addition to their lawful wives. Between the children of wives and those of concubines there is no distinction, and they are considered to have equal rights. As for concubines they either buy them for themselves or win them in war; when they are tired of them there is nothing to prevent their bringing them to market and selling them; but they are entitled to their freedom if they have borne children to their master. This privilege Roxolana, Solyman’s wife, turned to her own advantage, when she had borne him a son while still a slave. Having thus obtained her freedom, and become her own mistress, she refused to submit any longer to his will, unless, contrary to the custom of the Ottoman Sultans, she was made his lawful wife. The only distinction between the lawful wife and the concubine is, that the former has a dowry, while the slaves have none. A wife who has a portion settled on her is mistress of her husband’s house, and all the other women have to obey her orders. The husband, however, may choose which of them shall spend the night with him. He makes known his wishes to the wife, and she sends to him the slave he has selected. Hardly a pleasant task, one would fancy, for a wife, whatever the feelings of the other might be! Only Friday night, which is their Sabbath, is supposed to belong to the wife; and she grumbles if her husband deprives her of it. On all the other nights he may do as he pleases.

Divorces are granted among them for many reasons which it is easy for the husbands to invent. The divorced wife receives back her dowry, unless the divorce has been caused by some fault on her part. There is more difficulty in a woman’s getting a divorce from her husband. Among the reasons which are considered sufficient for granting a divorce are the deprivation of the necessaries of life by the husband, and certain kinds of ill treatment. In the latter case the woman goes before the judge, and makes a declaration that she is unable to remain any longer with her husband; when the judge asks the reason, she gives no answer, but takes off one of her shoes and turns it upside down. This the judge accepts as sufficient evidence that her husband has treated her improperly.

People of consideration with large harems appoint eunuchs to guard them. They also have baths at home, in which they and their women perform their ablutions, while people of smaller means patronise the public baths. They consider cleanliness of the body as even of more importance in a religious point of view than purity of the soul, which is the reason of their frequent ablutions. The great mass of women use the public baths for females, and assemble there in large numbers. Among them are found many girls of exquisite beauty, who have been brought together from different quarters of the globe by various chances of fortune; so cases occur of women falling in love with one another at these baths, in much the same fashion as young men fall in love with maidens in our own country. Thus you see a Turk’s precautions are sometimes of no avail, and when he has succeeded in keeping his wives from a male lover, he is still in danger from a female rival! The women become deeply attached to each other, and the baths supply them with opportunities of meeting. Some therefore keep their women away from them as much as possible, but they cannot do so altogether, as the law allows them to go there. This evil affects only the common people; the richer classes bathe at home, as I mentioned.

It happened that in a gathering of this kind, an elderly woman fell in love with a girl, the daughter of an inhabitant of Constantinople, a man of small means. When her courtship and flatteries were not attended with the success her mad passion demanded, she ventured on a course, which to our notions appears almost incredible. Changing her dress, she pretended she was a man, and hired a house near where the girl’s father lived, representing herself as one of the slaves of the Sultan, belonging to the class of cavasses; and it was not long before she took advantage of her position as a neighbour, cultivated the father’s acquaintance, and asked for his daughter in marriage. Need I say more? The proposal appearing to be satisfactory, the father readily consents, and promises a dowry proportionate to his means. The wedding-day was fixed, and then this charming bridegroom enters the chamber of the bride, takes off her veil,181 and begins to chat with her. She recognises at once her old acquaintance, screams out, and calls back her father and mother, who discover that they have given their daughter in marriage to a woman instead of a man. The next day they bring her before the Aga of the Janissaries, who was governing the city in the Sultan’s absence. He tells her that an old woman like her ought to know better than to attempt so mad a freak, and asks, if she is not ashamed of herself? She replies, ‘Tush! you know not the might of love, and God grant that you may never experience its power.’ At this the Aga could not restrain his laughter; and ordered her to be carried off at once, and drowned in the sea. Thus the strange passion of this old woman brought her to a bad end.

The Turks do not inquire very closely into secret vices, that they may not give an opportunity for false charges, but they punish severely open profligacy and crimes that are detected.

I am afraid your ears have been offended by my account of such an instance of wickedness; but, if I can, I will remove by a pleasanter story any disagreeable impressions the former may have left, for I am quite sure you will have a good laugh over what I am going to tell you.

There came lately during the disturbances in Hungary a courier from the Emperor. The Pashas desired that he should not as usual be brought directly to me, but first be taken to the Divan, their object being to know the contents of the Emperor’s letters before they were delivered to me, as they suspected that many things were suppressed, and that I did not give them a faithful account of the tenor of despatches. The courier, however, foreseeing what was coming, concealed the Emperor’s packet, and delivered only my private letters. The Pashas had been previously informed by their interpreter Ibrahim, who is by birth a Pole, that despatches which contained confidential instructions were not written in the usual characters, but in a new sort of letters; namely, in what we call cipher. As they were examining all the letters, they chanced to come upon one from a friend of mine, the Burgundian Secretary, which Ibrahim perceived was written on unusually thin paper, through which the letters could be seen when held to the light. He exclaimed, ‘I have found it,’ and told them to let the others be, saying this was the one that contained important matter. The Pashas, telling him to break the seal, read it, and translate it, assumed an attitude of attention and expectation. Ibrahim, however, declared that he could not make out a single letter. At this the Pashas were amazed, and asked him if he had never learnt, or had forgotten, Christian characters? to which Ibrahim replied, that this kind of writing was known only to the confidential secretaries of Sovereigns. As they did not clearly understand his answer, they said: ‘But if so, why do you delay? why don’t you hurry off at once to the Secretary of the Venetian or the Florentine Baily?’ Off flew Ibrahim in hot haste. Now the letter was written in such characters that a boy ten years old could have read it, but both the Secretaries, seeing it was addressed to me, after one glance returned it, declaring that without a knowledge of the private key it was impossible for anyone to decipher the writing. Ibrahim returned with this reply, and the Pashas then deliberated what was to be done. Then some one made the following suggestion: ‘There is in the city the Patriarch, who is acquainted with many kinds of characters; if he, being an old man and a Christian, cannot read them no one else can.’ They agreed to the proposal, but the Patriarch declared that he could not make out a single jot of them, for the characters were neither Greek, nor Latin, nor Hebrew, nor Chaldee. So they brought the letter back having had their trouble for nothing. Then, Ali Pasha, though on other occasions he showed that he was by no means a fool, turned to Roostem and said, ‘Cardassi (which means ‘brother’ in Turkish), I remember I had a slave, by birth an Italian, who knew all languages and characters. Were he still alive I feel no doubt that he could have read and interpreted these characters; but he died some time ago.’ Not knowing what further plan to adopt, they decided to send me the letters as they could make no use of them. When I had heard the whole story from Ibrahim (for it was impossible to conceal it), I made vehement complaints, and was very indignant at their having thus intercepted my letters, without paying any regard to international law, or to the Emperor from whom they had come; and I also told him to wait and hear some passages translated from them, that he might communicate them to the Pashas the next day.

On the morrow, when he appeared in the Divan, the Pashas asked him, ‘could I read those characters?’ ‘As easily,’ said Ibrahim, ‘as his own name;’ and at the same time proceeded to lay before them certain statements which I had desired him to communicate. Then Roostem remarked: ‘The Ambassador is a young man, and yet he understands what the old Patriarch cannot so much as read; he will certainly turn out a great man, if he attains old age.’

I do not know if it was in consequence of this occurrence, or of something else, that this same Roostem, in the course of a conversation I had with him some days afterwards on public business, began to throw off his usual reserve, and finally went so far as to ask me, ‘Whether I had any objection to be initiated into their religion, and to become a worshipper of the true God? If I should do so, Solyman, through his influence, was ready to confer on me great honours and great rewards.’ I replied that I was determined to remain in the religion in which I was born, and which was professed by my master. ‘Very well,’ said Roostem; ‘but what is to become of your soul?’ ‘For my soul too,’ I replied, ‘I have good hopes.’ Then, after a moment’s reflection, he said, ‘You are right; and I myself do not dissent from the doctrine that men who have passed this life in holiness and innocence will be partakers of eternal bliss, whatever religion they may have followed.’ Such views are entertained by some Turks, but they are thought heretical, and Roostem himself is not considered altogether orthodox. The Turks deem it their duty and an act of charity, to make one offer to a Christian of whom they have a good opinion, of partaking in their rites and religion, in the hope of saving, if they can, a man otherwise destined to eternal perdition, and think such an offer is to be considered the greatest possible honour and mark of kindness they can show.

I will now give you another conversation with Roostem, that you may understand how widely the Persians are separated from the Turks by religion.182 He once asked me if war was still going on between the Kings of Spain and France. On my replying that it was, ‘What right have they,’ said he, ‘to wage war on each other, when they are united by the ties of religion?’ ‘The same,’ said I, ‘as you have to fight with the Persians. There are cities, provinces, and kingdoms about which they are at variance.’ ‘It is quite a different case,’ said Roostem, ‘for we, you must know, hate the Persians worse, and consider them more impious than we do you Christians.’

I will now give you some news of events in Hungary, where, since my return, each side has met with chequered fortune in its enterprises. To write a full and particular account would be tedious and out of place.183 Isabella, the wife of King John, returned to Transylvania with her son, after repudiating the agreement and the treaties she had made with the Emperor Ferdinand, and from fear of the Turkish arms, the people of Transylvania again submitted to the old yoke. Even these successes did not satisfy the Turks, who appeared to be aiming at the acquisition of the whole of Hungary. Accordingly, among other operations they resolved to besiege the very strong position of Szigeth,184 which derives its name from the Hungarian word for island. For this enterprise they selected as general a man, whose successful career was calculated to inspire his troops with confidence and his enemies with fear. This was Ali Pasha, an Albanian, who had distinguished himself whilst governor of Hungary by his successes, the chief of which was his decisive victory over Sforzia Palavicini and the Bishop of FÜnfkirchen. He was summoned from his distant command on the Persian frontier, and the greatest hopes were excited by his appearance in Constantinople. My colleagues were then still here, pressing for leave to return. The Pashas thought it well that we should see the man who, they considered, would be regarded by us as a very thunderbolt of war. He received us courteously, and addressed us at length, telling us that we ought to endeavour to make peace, and save Hungary from being wasted with fire and sword, by acceding to the terms which his Emperor185 proposed. We answered that peace was our first object, provided it was granted on such terms as were consistent with the honour of our Emperor; but that we were forbidden to agree to such a peace as would be contrary to the interests and dignity of his Majesty. So we departed, having been first entertained by him with eau sucrÉe.

Ali was a eunuch, but his spirit seemed to have gained what his body had lost. He was of short stature, bloated person, and yellowish complexion; the expression of his face was morose, his eyes had a fierce look, and his shoulders were high and broad. Between them his head was sunk and concealed. From his mouth projected two teeth like a boar’s tusks; his voice was discordant. To describe him in a word, he was a regular devil.

He set out the next day with a great train, and having reached Hungary, he spent some time in preparations; then, marching on Szigeth, he drove away the men who were rebuilding Babocsa—a fortress belonging to the Emperor. But his Majesty, who had already been informed of Ali Pasha’s designs, determined to send one of his three sons to encounter his onslaught, and do battle for Hungary. The young Archduke Ferdinand, on whom his choice fell, is equal in courage to any of the famous generals of ancient times. He took up a position against Ali’s army with a small body of picked cavalry. Turks who were there told me that it was a goodly sight to behold the splendour, discipline, and steadiness of our troops. The Pasha, whose army was much the largest, and who was naturally a man of fierce and haughty temper, could not brook that Christians should dare to face him. Some marshy ground, which could not be crossed without danger, lay between the two armies. Ferdinand, whose object was to relieve Szigeth and to raise the siege, had no need to cross; but Ali Pasha, on the contrary, was obliged to risk everything, as he had no choice between advancing and committing himself to an ignominious and hazardous retreat. He, therefore, seeing to what a strait he was reduced, decided to risk everything on the success of his movement, and was on the point of plunging with his steed into the marsh, when a Sanjak-bey who was among the bystanders, whose name I have forgotten, perceiving the greatness of the danger, leaped down from his horse, and, laying his hand on the Pasha’s rein, said, ‘My Sultan’ (for this is the title given by the Turks to men of high rank), ‘do you not see the peril into which you are wilfully bringing yourself and us? You do not sufficiently take into account the difficulty of crossing this quagmire. The Christians are waiting for us on the other side with stout hearts and strong lances, and their serried squadrons will charge down on our straggling column as soon as the vanguard has got clear of the marsh, while the rest are still struggling in the mud. They will take advantage of our rashness, and fight with the certainty of defeating us. Restrain your wrath, and recollect yourself. Preserve the lives of your gallant soldiers and your own for our Emperor’s186 service and for better days. God will be sure to give us an opportunity of mending this day’s work.’ At these words Ali recovered his senses, and restrained himself. Every Turk on the field admitted that the army had been saved by the advice of the Sanjak-bey. However, when news of the affair reached Constantinople, although not even the Vizierial (that is the chief) Pashas could deny that Ali’s army owed its safety to the prompt interference of the Sanjak-bey, and though they praised his loyalty and generalship in private, yet they were unwilling that such a breach of discipline should go unpunished, and thus become a precedent for the future. Accordingly, they removed him from office, recalled him to Constantinople, and they placed him on the list of those who had been dismissed the service, until, when they thought his fault had been sufficiently atoned for, they promoted him to a much better government than the one he had lost, which made it quite plain that he had been thus punished rather to preserve discipline than because he had done wrong.

Ali not long afterwards returned to Buda. During his retreat his troops were so harassed by the Hungarians that he lost a large part of his army. He arrived at the capital of Hungary a broken and dishonoured man, where he died shortly afterwards of grief and shame.

On the other hand, the Archduke Ferdinand returned to his father with well-earned laurels. His success will not only be of immediate advantage, but it will enhance for the future the prestige of our arms. The Turks have now had ample proof that, if they trouble the Emperor, he is one who has both soldiers and generals wherewith to chastise their insolence. This check has made the Turks on the borders a great deal quieter.

While Ali was still encamped before Szigeth, our soldiers took by escalade the city of Gran, with the adjoining citadel of the same name. They carried off some plunder, and also the inhabitants, who were mostly women and children. The messenger who brought the news to the Pasha came trembling, with dismay painted on his face. ‘Is all well?’ quoth the Pasha. ‘Why are you thus cast down?’ Thereon the man told him of the great disaster the Turks had sustained in the loss of Gran. ‘Disaster! loss!’ cried the Pasha. ‘Well, I know what disaster and loss mean; I can tell you it was a disastrous loss when they made me what I am.’ The Pasha was a eunuch, and he intended by this coarse joke on himself to divert the attention of the people round him from the loss which he was unable to repair.

In Croatia, too, and in the neighbouring regions, various forays went on upon both sides, and people, whether Turks or Christians, who were too venturesome and careless, were punished for their presumption. I will tell you an instance, and as it gave me reason to rejoice, I trust you also will find the story agreeable. True, it occurred a little before the affair of Szigeth which I have just related; but as it is a letter I am writing, I feel that the order of time need not be very strictly regarded. From those districts news was brought to Roostem of a feat performed by a certain Turk, for whom he professed great admiration and spoke of as his kinsman. He had swept down on a large party of Christians, who were celebrating a wedding without the slightest notion that there were any Turks in the neighbourhood. You may imagine what an unwelcome guest he was. His troops scattered the people, killing several, and carrying off many more as prisoners; amongst the latter was the unfortunate bridegroom, with her who was about to become his wife. Roostem was greatly elated, and kept boring everybody with his boasts of the wonderful success of his kinsman’s raid. So far, the story is one on which we must exchange condolences rather than congratulations. Well, it is the fortune of war. But retribution was close at hand to change Roostem’s merriment into tears and lamentation. There came not long afterwards from the same districts in hot haste a Dalmatian horseman with news of a great defeat. (The man belonged to a class whom the Turks call Delli, i.e. madmen, on account of their blind and reckless daring.) He said that several Sanjak-beys and other commanders of garrisons had united their forces and invaded the enemy’s territory; they had scoured the country for many miles, and had carried off much booty, but at last, advancing too far, they fell in with a Christian force, composed of musketeers on horseback, by whom they were put to flight and utterly routed with the loss of many men, among whom was that Achilles, Roostem’s kinsman, of whom he had just been speaking in such high terms. Roostem was overwhelmed on hearing the disastrous intelligence, and burst into tears. Richly did he deserve this misfortune in retribution for his former boastfulness.

Now listen to the rest of the story, which affords still greater reason for rejoicing. When the Dalmatian horseman, who brought the news of the defeat I mentioned, was immediately afterwards asked by the Pashas in the Divan, ‘How many of you then were engaged?’ he replied, ‘Above 2,500.’ The Pashas proceeded, ‘Pray, what was the number of the Christians?’ to which he said, ‘he thought they were not above 500 that he could see, though there might have been some more lying in ambush, and for his part he thought there were, but he could take his oath that there was not more than that number of Christians actually engaged.’ Thereupon the Pashas got angry with him for not being more ashamed at the defeat of a regular army of Mussulmans by a handful of Christians. They thought it foul scorn that picked warriors, who had been deemed worthy of being numbered amongst Solyman’s household and of eating his bread, should thus disgrace themselves. The messenger most unblushingly replied, ‘You do not take a right view of the matter. Did you not hear that we were overcome by the force of fire-arms? it was fire that routed us, not the enemy’s valour. Far different, by heaven, would have been the result of the fight, had they met us like brave men. They called fire to their aid; by the violence of fire we were conquered; we are not ashamed; it is one of the elements and the fiercest of them, and what mortal man has such strength as to be able to resist the fury of the elements?’187 When he delivered this speech bombastically with Dalmatian magniloquence, the bystanders, notwithstanding the melancholy tidings, could with difficulty check their laughter.

This news cheered me not a little, coming as it did when I was still depressed by the recollection of the previous disaster. I could thereby learn that the Turks are much afraid of carbines and pistols, such as are used on horseback. The same, I hear, is the case with the Persians, on which account some one advised Roostem, when he was setting out with the Sultan on a campaign against them, to raise from his household servants a troop of 200 horse and arm them with fire-arms, as they would cause much alarm and do great execution in the ranks of the enemy. Roostem, in accordance with this advice, raised a troop of dragoons, furnished them with fire-arms, and had them drilled. But they had not completed half the journey when their guns began to get out of order. Every day some essential part of their weapons was lost or broken, and it was not often that armourers could be found capable of repairing them. So, a large part of the fire-arms having been rendered unserviceable, the men took a dislike to the weapon; and this prejudice was increased by the dirt which its use entailed, the Turks being a very cleanly people; for the dragoons had their hands and clothes begrimed with gunpowder, and moreover presented such a sorry appearance, with their ugly boxes and pouches hanging about them, that their comrades laughed at them, and called them apothecaries. So, since with this equipment they pleased neither themselves nor others, they gathered round Roostem, and showing him their broken and useless fire-arms, asked what advantage he hoped to gain from them when they met the enemy, and demanded that he should relieve them of them, and give them their old arms again. Roostem, after considering their request carefully, thought there was no reason for refusing to comply with it, and so they got leave to resume their bows and arrows.

The fighting on the Hungarian borders, which I mentioned above, reminds me to tell you what the Turks think of the practice of duelling, which we are accustomed to regard as the greatest proof of personal courage. There was in a part of Hungary which adjoins our frontier, a Sanjak-bey, famous for bodily strength, named Arslan Bey. None drew the bow with greater strength, no one’s sword pierced deeper, or was more formidable to the foe. Veli Bey, the governor of the next Sanjak,188 who coveted the same reputation, put himself forward as his rival. From this rivalry, and possibly other differences, there arose a deadly feud between the Sanjak-beys; they laid plots against one another, and bloodshed was the consequence. Whether it was for this or some other reason that Veli Bey was summoned to Constantinople is unknown to me; at any rate he came. The Pashas in the Divan, after putting many other questions to him, finally wished to hear about his feud with Arslan Bey. (Arslan in Turkish means Lion.) Then he narrated at great length the whole story of their quarrel, and to improve his case, he told them how it ended in Arslan Bey’s lying in wait for him and wounding him; there would have been no need, he continued, for Arslan Bey to act thus, had he chosen to show himself worthy of his name; since for his part he had never declined a fight with him, and indeed had many times challenged him to a duel. The Pashas,189 in indignation at this speech, exclaimed, ‘Did you dare to challenge your comrade to a duel? Were there no Christians for you to fight? Both of you live on the bread of our Emperor, but yet you were preparing to engage in mortal combat. By what law or precedent can you justify such conduct? Did you not know that whichever of you fell the Emperor would lose a soldier by his death?’ With these words they ordered him to be taken to prison, where he was made to do penance for several months, and then having with great difficulty obtained his discharge, was at last released with his reputation much impaired. Among us many who have never seen a public enemy are considered to be famous and distinguished characters, because they have drawn their swords on a fellow-citizen or fellow-soldier. What can you do when the sense of right is so perverted that vices usurp the place of virtues, and what deserves punishment is accounted a glory and an honour?

As you are eager for information of every kind, I must not deprive you of an account of the arrival here of the king of the Colchians.190 He reigns on the banks of the Phasis at the corner of the Euxine, not far from Mount Caucasus. His name is Dadian. He is a man of dignified appearance and commanding person, but at heart they say he is a mere savage. He was attended by a large but ragged retinue in poor and threadbare attire.

The Colchians are now called Mingrelians by the Italians. They are one of the tribes settled between the Caspian Gates, called by the Turks ‘Demit Capi,’ i.e., ‘Iron Gates,’ and the Black and Caspian Seas, which are now called Georgians, either from the sect of Christianity to which they belong, or because it is their ancient name, which last seems the more probable theory, among whom are also included the Albanians and Iberians (Imeritians).

The reason of Dadian’s coming is uncertain. Some suspect that he has been summoned by the Turks; for when the Turks are at war with the Persians, the Mingrelians and the other tribes of that region would, if friendly, be able to render important assistance. But the general and more probable version of the story is, that he has come to ask for the assistance of some galleys to help him against his neighbours the Imeritians; and that he is prepared to pay tribute to the Sultan in return for this favour. His father was killed by the Imeritians, with whom the Mingrelians have an ancient feud of long standing.

There is, however, an amusing story that, when on a certain occasion a conference to effect a union and a reconciliation had been arranged, and the Mingrelians on the one part and the Imeritians on the other had assembled in large numbers, they had a match to see who should have the honour of drinking the most; in which the Mingrelians were worsted, and fell dead drunk under the table. But the Imeritians behaved dishonourably, and putting the doughty Dadian, while he was sound asleep and snoring, into a carriage, carried him off as if they had taken him prisoner in fair fight, and shut him up in a lofty tower. To avenge this wrong and to recover their king, the Mingrelians collected men to the number of 30,000, commanded by the wife of the captive prince, a woman of high spirit, who could ride a horse and wield a sword. The chiefs of the army were equipped in cumbrous coats of mail, and carried swords and lances tipped with iron. There was also, you will be surprised to hear, a body of musketeers. The rest were without any armour, and fought with arrows, or stakes hardened in the fire, and great clubs of wood, and rode barebacked, nor was there any attempt at order among them. When this raw and undisciplined army drew near to the place where the king was confined, the enemy fired some cannon, at which they took to their heels, and ran away a full mile. Then they again plucked up courage and returned to the attack: the cannons were again discharged; off went the Mingrelians once more, and this scene was repeated over and over again. Dadian, however, seeing help near at hand, cut the sheets of his bed into strips, and letting himself down at night through a window, reached his troops in safety; an exploit, which has made him famous in those parts.

All the country of the Mingrelians is exceedingly rich in every kind of grain, except wheat and barley. The crops receive but little attention, and it is supposed that if a little care were taken, wheat and barley might also be grown. The people are incorrigibly lazy. Panic191 is sown in a slovenly way, but it grows with the greatest luxuriance, and produces such a crop that one harvest is sufficient for two years’ consumption. They have got accustomed to this grain, which they eat in large quantities, and do not wish for any better kind of corn. From vines planted at the foot of the tallest trees, they make a great deal of fair wine. These vines climb among the branches of the trees to which they are trained, and last for many years. Abundance of wax and honey may be obtained from the wild bees that work in the forests by anyone who will take the trouble to look for their hives. The woods also supply plenty of game, indeed the whole country is full of pheasants and partridges. The very pumpkins show the fertility of the soil, as they not only are of a delicious flavour, but are often quite three feet long.

They have very little money. Few among them are acquainted with silver coins, and still fewer with gold; hardly anyone possesses them. I am not sure that they ought not to be called fortunate on this account. The absence of money is the absence of that which is the chief incentive to crime; and yet, for my part, I have my doubts whether many of our friends at home would care for this blessing, which renders it impossible for anyone to grow rich! Yet silver is to some extent esteemed by them, for when any comes into the country in the course of trade—as is necessarily the case—they dedicate it to their churches, and it is recast into crosses, chalices, or other church ornaments. All these the king, when he thinks proper, melts down, and converts the bullion to his own uses. In dealing with each other, barter is their only form of trade. Everyone brings to market the commodity of which he has plenty, to exchange it for what he is in need of. Thus they do not feel the want of money, since its place is supplied by barter; nay, even the king’s tribute is paid to him in the produce of the soil. He receives an abundant supply of what is needful in the way of food and clothing. He has enough to eat, enough to drink, enough to clothe himself with, and also has the means of maintaining his household and rewarding his supporters. He has an inexhaustible store of provisions, both from tithes and other royalties and from the presents which he is continually receiving; yet he is no miser, and gives as freely and readily as he takes. His palace resembles a public storehouse, being crammed with supplies of every kind. From these stores rations are issued to all his subjects who need them. Any who are in want, or have fallen into poverty through the failure of their crops, are fed from the royal granary.

It is the custom for merchants on landing to make some present to the king; its value is unimportant, as he will accept whatever is offered, and they are then invited to a banquet. There is a vast hall with stables at each end, in which the king’s table is laid. It is a very long one; he sits at the head himself, and the others at a little distance from him. The table is loaded with game and other dishes, and wine is liberally supplied; indeed, the hardest drinkers are considered the most welcome guests. In the same banqueting-hall the queen likewise dines with her train of women, but at a separate table. I am afraid I cannot say much for the manners of the ladies. They behave quite as badly as the men, drinking, gesticulating, tittering, nodding, and winking, to such an extent as to make it plain that any of them would play the Medea if a Jason192 appeared. After the banquet the king with his guests goes off to the chase.

In this country you may see in the forests parties of the common people lying under the shade of spreading trees, and keeping holiday with wine and dances and songs. They stretch strings to a long pole, and strike them with a small stick in regular time. To the accompaniment of these rude harps they sing their love-songs and ballads in praise of heroes, among whom, if the stories that are told are true, the name of Roland frequently occurs.193 How it was conveyed there I cannot conjecture, unless it came across the sea with Godfrey de Bouillon. About this Roland they tell many marvellous tales, even more absurd than those of our own romances.

Where life is so easy and food so plentiful, morality suffers. A respectable woman is not often to be met with. A man who wishes to amuse his visitor and make his stay agreeable, introduces him to his wife or sister, and does not trouble himself as to how far their intimacy may go. On the contrary, they think that if their wives prove attractive it is a compliment to themselves. Unmarried women are allowed the same liberties, and behave just as badly as their married sisters. Cases are often pointed out of girls of ten years old who have got babies. When you express your surprise, and refuse to believe that such diminutive creatures can be mothers, they produce a baby not much bigger than a large frog, which is the more surprising, as the men and women are generally tall, and remarkable for the symmetry of their limbs. But they are so completely devoid of refinement and good manners that, among other customs, they think it a compliment to make a curious noise in the throat, something like a hiccough.

For one thing they certainly have talents, and that is stealing. Amongst them this art is held in high esteem, and a successful pilferer is a great man. He who is ignorant of the noble science of thieving is despised as a mere blockhead; indeed, they hardly think him worthy of life. So strong is this feeling, that if a man has a brother or son who cannot steal, he considers him a hopeless case and a disgrace to his family, and gives him away or sells him for a trifle to foreign traders to carry him to some distant land. An Italian merchant, who had been in that country, told me that one of their priests robbed him of his knife in church. He perceived the theft, but pretended not to do so, and, to show the priest he had been discovered, made him a present of the sheath as well, that he might have something to put the knife in!

When they enter a church they do not care much for the images of the Virgin, St. Peter, St. Paul, or other saints, but look about for a picture of St. George on horseback. Before this they prostrate themselves in adoration, and then kiss it all over, not omitting even the horse’s shoes. They say that St. George was a brave soldier of great renown, who fought several battles with the Evil Spirit on equal terms, and always beat him, or at the worst was able to hold his own.

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 was stolen 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 of which 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 as teachers. 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 be scriptures if they were printed, 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,’195 should 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 manoeuvre which has been handed down from the time of the Parthians; 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 manoeuvre. 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,196 they 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. There had 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.197 When 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 hay and 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.198 The instructions 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, and thinking 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,199 the 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 me by 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.200 Doubtless 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. Another time 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,202 concealing 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 cared neither 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.203 He 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 to his 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,204 and 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 at any 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 forces by 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 to return, 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 he submitted 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 Dodona205 is 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 either he 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,206 which 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.207 Should 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.208 They 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 was pompous, 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.209 That 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 was far 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, though in body they stood with his brother, in heart they 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 hard by,210 and 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 had won it, but Bajazet had deserved it. 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. He could 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 the Miles Gloriosus of 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, and thought 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 to fool 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.212 They 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.213 His 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,214 but 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.215 They 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, was on 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 with me. 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 few particulars 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 and thrice 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 Lent216 as 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 is not 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 of such 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 has been banished. But the punishment of death is inflicted on him not as a Janissary, but as a common soldier.

The endurance of the Turks in undergoing punishment is truly marvellous. They often receive more than a hundred blows on their soles, ankles, and buttocks, so that sometimes several sticks of dogwood are broken on them, and the executioner has to say repeatedly, ‘Give me the other stick.’218 Although remedies are at hand, yet it sometimes happens that many pounds of gangrened flesh have to be cut off from the places which have been beaten. They are obliged notwithstanding to go to the officer by whose orders they have been punished, and to kiss his hand and thank him, and also to pay the executioner a fixed fee for every stroke. As to the stick with which they are beaten, they consider it a sacred thing, and are quite convinced that the first bastinado stick fell down from the same place from which the Romans believed their sacred shields descended, I mean from heaven. That they may have some consolation for such pain, they also believe that the parts, which have been touched by the stick, will after this life be safe from the fires of purgatory.

In saying that the camp was free from quarrels and tumults, it is necessary to make one exception, for some trouble was caused by my people. A few of them had gone out of the camp to stroll along the shore without Janissaries, having only taken with them some Italian renegadoes. Among the various advantages which such renegadoes enjoy, the greatest perhaps is the power of ransoming prisoners. They go to the people who have possession of the captives, and pretend that they are their relations or connections, or at any rate their fellow-countrymen. After speaking of the great pain it gives them to see their friends in such a position, they ask the masters to take their value and emancipate them, or else to make them over to themselves. To such a request the masters make no difficulty in agreeing; whereas, if a Christian were to ask the same favour, they would either refuse it or demand a much higher price. To return to my subject, when my men had gone out they came upon some Janissaries, who, by way of performing their ablutions, had taken a swim in the sea. They had left their turbans behind, and their only head-dress was a piece of linen roughly folded. The Janissaries seeing my men were Christians began to abuse them. For the Turks not only consider it lawful to call Christians by insulting names and otherwise abuse them, but even think it meritorious, on the ground that they may possibly be shamed into changing their religion for the faith of the Turks, when they see what insults they are exposed to on its account. My men, when thus assailed, abused them in return, and at last from words they came to blows, the Italians I mentioned taking the side of my men. The end of it was, that the head-wrapper of one of the Janissaries was lost in the scuffle, how or where I cannot say. The Janissaries, having traced my people to my quarters, went to their commanding officer and charged them with having caused this loss. The officer ordered them to summon my interpreter, who had been present at the skirmish. They seized him, as he was sitting at the door, while I was looking down from the verandah above. I felt that this was a very gross insult; here was one of my people being carried off without my permission, and not only so, but carried off, as I knew right well, having heard of the affair from my servants, to receive a flogging. This was certain to be his fate, for he was a Turkish subject. I went down and laying my hand on him told them to let him go, which they did; but they went off to their commander more savage than ever. He directed them to take some more men, and bring before him the renegade Italians I mentioned, charging them at the same time to be careful not to use violence to me or the house where I was staying. Accordingly they came again making a great uproar, and standing on the road demanded the surrender of the men with loud cries and threats. But the Italians foreseeing what would happen, had already crossed the Bosphorus to Constantinople. This went on for a long time with much bad language on both sides, till at last the cavasse I was then employing, an old man on the brink of the grave, becoming nervous at the uproar, thrust into their hands, without my knowledge, some pieces of gold as the price of the lost head-wrapper, and thus our peace was made.

One reason for telling you this adventure is, that it gave me an opportunity of learning from Roostem himself the light in which the Janissaries are regarded by the Sultan. For when he heard of this disturbance he sent a man warning me, to use his own words, ‘to remove every cause of offence which might occasion a quarrel with those atrocious scoundrels. Was I not aware, that it was war time, when they were masters, so that not even Solyman himself had control over them, and was actually himself afraid of receiving violence at their hands?’ These were no random words of Roostem’s; he knew what he was talking about, for his master’s anxieties were no secret to him. What the Sultan dreaded most in the world was secret disaffection among the Janissaries; disaffection which would lie hidden for a time, and then break out at a critical moment when he had no power to counteract it. His alarm is certainly not without foundation; for while there are great advantages to a Sovereign in the possession of a standing army, there are on the other hand, if proper precautions be not taken, considerable disadvantages. The greatest of all is, that the soldiers have it in their power to depose their Sovereign and place another on the throne; and the fear of a revolution of this kind must be ever present to the minds of the masters. Striking instances might be quoted of Sovereigns who were dethroned by their own troops; but it is by no means impossible to guard against such occurrences.

During my stay at the camp, Albert de Wyss,219 a gentleman and a good scholar, arrived. If I am not mistaken, he is a native of Amersfort. He brought as presents from the Emperor to the Sultan some gilded cups and a clock of skilful workmanship, which was mounted like a tower on the back of an elephant, and also some money for distribution among the Pashas. Solyman desired me to present these gifts to him in the camp, in the sight of the army, as a fresh proof to his subjects that he and the Emperor were firm friends. He was anxious that such an idea should prevail, and also that an impression should be produced, that no warlike movement on the part of the Christians was likely to take place.

I now return to the point from which I began this digression, namely to Bajazet, who had retreated from the battle field of Koniah to Amasia, his own government, apparently with the resolution of remaining quiet there, if his father should allow him to do so. He had obeyed the dictates of his passion and his youthful ambition; now he seemed to intend for the future to play the part of a dutiful son. He continually endeavoured to ascertain his father’s disposition by letters and agents. Solyman did not show himself averse to a reconciliation. At first he made no difficulty in giving the messengers audience, read the letters and did not answer them harshly, so that a report was prevalent throughout the camp that the father would be reconciled to the son, and pardon his youthful indiscretion, on his promising to be loyal for the future. But in reality the crafty old man was playing a very deep game suggested to him by the Pashas, he was deluding Bajazet with hopes of forgiveness until the toils should be prepared, and he should be ready to seize his prisoner alive. For it was apprehended that, if he was driven to despair, he would make his escape to the territory of the King of Persia, which was his only refuge, before the governors of the intervening country had time to guard and watch the roads. Solyman kept sending messenger after messenger to them, urging them not to leave any loophole however small for Bajazet to escape to Persia. Meanwhile anyone suspected of a leaning towards Bajazet who fell into the Sultan’s hands was secretly executed, after being questioned by torture. Among them were some whom Bajazet had sent to clear his character.

The kingdom of Persia, though Solyman has torn away from it much territory by war, namely Babylonia itself, Mesopotamia, and part of Media, includes at the present time all the tribes that dwell between the Caspian Sea and the Persian Gulf, with some portion of Greater Armenia. The Sovereign of this country is Shah Tahmasp, who, besides the territory I mentioned, reigns over regions still more remote, as far as the dominions of the Prince who is called by the Turks Humayoum Padischah.220 The father of the present Shah was defeated many years ago by Selim in a great battle on the plains of Tschaldiran,221 and from that time the fortunes of Persia have been declining, under the powerful attacks of the Emperor Solyman, for Tahmasp has defended himself with but little vigour and in no way displayed the spirit of his father. At the present time he is said to be leading the life of a mere voluptuary; he never leaves his harem, where he divides his time between dallying with his favourites and forecasting the future by means of lots. Meanwhile he neglects to enforce the laws or to administer justice, and consequently, brigandage and outrages of every kind prevail throughout the different tribes that are subject to his sway, and so the poor and helpless throughout Persia are suffering every kind of oppression at the hands of the strong, and it is useless for innocence to resort to the King for protection. This culpable neglect of his duty as a ruler has so little impaired either his influence or the superstitious veneration with which his person is regarded, that they think that a blessing falls on those who have kissed the doorposts of his palace, and they keep the water in which he has washed his hands as a sovereign cure for divers diseases. Of his numerous offspring one son is called Ismael after his grandfather, and on him has also descended his grandfather’s spirit. He is extremely handsome, and is a deadly enemy of the house of Othman. They say that when he first entered the world his baby hand was found to be full of blood, and this was commonly regarded by his countrymen as a sign that he would be a man of war. Nor did he belie the prediction, for hardly had he grown up to manhood when he inflicted a bloody defeat on his Turkish enemies. One of the articles of the treaty between his father and Solyman was, that he should not be allowed to attack the Turks, and in accordance with this stipulation he was sent to a distance from the frontier and there confined in prison. He is, however, the person marked out by the aspirations of the nation as successor to the throne on his father’s decease.

Accordingly Solyman was afraid that the Shah, who, by the way, is better known to us as the Sophi, would have a keener recollection of their ancient quarrels than of the peace which he had been recently compelled to make, and that consequently, if his son should escape into Persia, he would not allow him to be taken away without a great deal of trouble, and that possibly a long and harassing war would be the result. He therefore took the utmost pains to apprehend Bajazet, before he should escape thither. He remembered that the support, which, a few years before, he himself had given to Elkass, the brother of Tahmasp, who had taken refuge with him,222 had been the cause of many years of annoyance and anxiety to Tahmasp, and his conscience told him that this would be an opportunity for the latter to retaliate, and perhaps to make an attempt to recover the territory which he had lost in war.

Although the designs of Solyman were kept very secret, they were not unobserved by Bajazet’s friends, who repeatedly warned him not to trust his father, to be on his guard against plots, and to take betimes the best measures in his power for his safety. A little matter is often the immediate cause of a very serious step, and so it was in this case. What drove him to take his friends’ advice was, as I have heard, the circumstance that one of his spies, who was arrested in the camp, was by Solyman’s orders publicly executed by impalement, on the pretext that he had been enlisted by Bajazet after he had been strictly forbidden to enroll any more soldiers. When informed of his follower’s execution, Bajazet immediately felt that his only chance was to fly for his life. Solyman, on the other hand, thinking he had now made certain of his not escaping, or perhaps to deceive him the more, ordered his army to return to Constantinople the day after the festival of Bairam.

At Amasia, on the very day of the feast, as soon as the usual ceremonies were finished, Bajazet ordered his baggage to be packed up and began his ill-starred journey to Persia; he knew right well that he was going to the ancient enemy of the house of Othman, but he was fully resolved to throw himself on any one’s mercy rather than fall into his father’s hands. Every man marched out who was capable of bearing arms; none but women and children unequal to the fatigues of a long journey were left behind. Among the latter was a newly born son of Bajazet, with his mother; his father preferred to leave the innocent babe to his grand-father’s mercy, rather than take him as a companion of his anxious and miserable flight. This child Solyman ordered to be taken care of at Broussa, feeling as yet uncertain what his father’s fate might be.

I should have returned to Constantinople on the day before the Bairam,223 had I not been detained by my wish to see that day’s ceremonies. The Turks were about to celebrate the rites of the festival on an open and level plain before the tents of Solyman; and I could hardly hope that such an occasion of seeing them would ever present itself again. I gave my servants orders to promise a soldier some money and so get me a place in his tent, on a mound which commanded a good view of Solyman’s pavilions. Thither I repaired at sunrise. I saw assembled on the plain a mighty multitude of turbaned heads, attentively following, in the most profound silence, the words of the priest who was leading their devotions. They kept their ranks, each in his proper position; the lines of troops looked like so many hedges or walls parting out the wide plain, on which they were drawn up. According to its rank in the service each corps was posted nearer to, or farther from, the place where the Sultan stood. The troops were dressed in brilliant uniforms, their head-dresses rivalling snow in whiteness. The scene which met my eyes was charming, the different colours having a most pleasing effect. The men were so motionless that they seemed rooted to the ground on which they stood. There was no coughing, no clearing the throat, and no voice to be heard, and no one looked behind him or moved his head. When the priest pronounced the name of Mahomet all alike bowed their heads to their knees at the same moment, and when he uttered the name of God they fell on their faces in worship and kissed the ground. The Turks join in their devotions with great ceremony and attention, for if they even raise a finger to scratch their head, their prayer, they think, will not be accepted. ‘For,’ say they, ‘if you had to converse with Pashas would you not do so with your body in a respectful attitude? how much more are we bounden to observe the same reverence towards God, who is so far above the highest earthly eminence?’ Such is their logic. When prayers were finished, the serried ranks broke up, and the whole plain was gradually covered with their surging masses. Presently the Sultan’s servants appeared bringing their master’s dinner, when, lo and behold! the Janissaries laid their hands on the dishes, seized their contents and devoured them, amid much merriment. This licence is allowed by ancient custom as part of that day’s festivity, and the Sultan’s wants are otherwise provided for. I returned to Constantinople full of the brilliant spectacle, which I had thoroughly enjoyed.

I have a little more news to give you about Bajazet and then I will release you, as you are probably as tired of reading as I am of writing. Bajazet, as you have heard, having started from Amasia with his escort in light marching order, travelled with such speed that his arrival almost everywhere anticipated the tidings of his approach, and many who had been ordered to look out for his passage were taken by surprise, before their preparations were completed. He gave the Pasha of Siwas the slip by the following stratagem. There were two roads, of which the Pasha had occupied the one which was of importance to Bajazet; the latter, however, sent some pretended deserters to tell the Pasha that he had already passed by the other road. As the Pasha thought this not improbable, he left his position on the road he had occupied, and hastily led his forces across to the other road, by which he believed Bajazet to be going, and so left him a free passage.

He likewise imposed on the Pasha of Erzeroum by a somewhat similar stratagem. When he was not far off and knew there was much danger awaiting him in his passage through that Pashalik, he had recourse to the following device; he sent messengers to salute him, and told them to relate his misfortunes in the most pathetic manner, in hopes of exciting his sympathy. They were to conclude their appeal by asking permission to get shoes for the horses, telling the Pasha, the Prince’s troops were quite worn out by the hardships of the march, and that he intended remaining a day or two where there was plenty of fodder, in order to rest his horses, and to put new shoes on them. The Pasha courteously replied that he did not forbid him to take what he wanted; whether he was influenced by pity for Bajazet’s misfortunes, or by inclination to his party, as some people thought, I cannot say; perhaps, after all, his design was to throw Bajazet off his guard and so take him prisoner, or time may have been needed to concentrate his troops, who had been surprised by Bajazet’s rapid march. He also sent him some small presents as a compliment, and congratulated him on his safe arrival; but Bajazet, instead of making any halt, pressed on, allowing his troops no rest by day and only a short one by night.

When the Pasha of Erzeroum became aware that Bajazet was hurrying on, he quickened his movements and joined the other Pashas who were following in pursuit, for, as soon as it was known that Bajazet had left Amasia, Solyman sent several Sanjak-beys and Pashas after him, threatening them with the loss of their heads if they did not bring him back, alive or dead. But this was all in vain on account of Bajazet’s hasty departure, and also because the fugitive’s speed was greater than that of his pursuers. But after all, Bajazet’s flight cost none more dear than the above-mentioned Pasha of Erzeroum, who was removed from his Pashalik by Solyman, and put to death by Selim, with his two young sons, after they had first been horribly ill-treated. Meanwhile, both Selim and Mehemet Pasha and the Beyler-bey of Greece, although a long way behind, continued their pursuit of Bajazet.

His departure came upon Solyman as a very heavy blow, for he surmised correctly that Bajazet was making for Persia; he could scarcely be kept from marching, with the whole Imperial guard, both foot and horse, and making a demonstration against the King of Persia. But his rash impetuosity was moderated by his counsellors, who pointed out what danger might arise from the disaffection of the soldiery. There was also the risk of Bajazet’s marching round by the North of the Black Sea and the Sea of Azoff, and suddenly making a desperate attack on Constantinople; it would then be in his power to create an army by offering their freedom to the slaves and the recruits whom they call Agiamoglans,224 and to penetrate into the deserted capital. By such warnings they induced Solyman to abandon his design. Moreover, Bajazet left notices on the doorposts of the mosques, wherever he passed, promising to give double pay to any soldiers who went over to his side. These proclamations made the officers anxious, as they felt they could not trust their men, and this feeling was increased by the fact that remarks were constantly heard in the ranks, which showed a strong tendency in Bajazet’s favour.

At last Bajazet reached the river Araxes, which divides the Turkish territory from Persia. Even after he had passed it he did not feel secure, and, to prevent the Sanjak-beys, who were in pursuit, from crossing, he placed on the bank of the river, as guards, some of his men who had volunteered for that duty. They were, however, easily routed by the Sanjak-beys, who penetrated a considerable distance beyond the Persian frontiers, till they met Persian officers with a large body of cavalry, who demanded what they meant and what they wanted in foreign territory. The Turks replied that they were trying to recover the runaway son of their Sovereign. The Persians retorted that the Turks were violating the treaty by crossing the frontier with arms in their hands. There was peace and friendship, they said, between Shah Tahmasp and their master, and this state of things ought to be respected. The Shah’s decision about Bajazet would be one worthy of himself, and he would loyally fulfil his obligations. Meanwhile they would do well if they departed from a country in which they had no right to be. By these arguments the Turks were induced to return.

Soon afterwards there came to Bajazet envoys sent by the Persian King to salute him and enquire the reason of his coming, and also to ascertain what forces he brought with him.225 Bajazet told them that he had been driven from his country by his brother’s wrongful acts and his father’s partiality, and had fled to the protection of the King of Persia, as the only sanctuary he had left, and expressed his hope that the Shah, remembering the uncertainties of human fortune, would not refuse the prayers of a suppliant who had no one else to help him. In reply to this appeal he received a message from the Shah, saying that he had acted but inconsiderately in coming to him, as he knew that there was peace and friendship between himself and his father, and also that they had agreed to hold each other’s friends and foes as their own, which terms he felt bound to observe. However, as circumstances had taken this course, he bade him come in God’s name, give him his hand and become his guest; he promised that he would leave nothing undone to restore him to favour with his father.

Accordingly Bajazet paid a visit to the Shah,—a visit which was destined to be his ruin. At first everything presented an aspect of welcome, the Shah’s countenance wore a cheerful and friendly expression, gifts were exchanged as between host and guest, and they had frequent interviews and feasted at the same table, but these courtesies only served as screens for their secret intentions. A marriage alliance was also spoken of, one of the daughters of the Persian King being betrothed to Orchan, Bajazet’s son, and Bajazet’s hopes were confirmed that the Shah would not rest till Solyman had given him the Pashalik of Mesopotamia, Babylonia, or Erzeroum. The Shah represented the advantages of these governments in glowing terms, telling him that he could live there without any fear, since he would be at a distance from his brother and father, while, if he was threatened with any danger, his retreat was secured, as he could depend on the protection of his son’s father-in-law, who would defend him and keep him safe from every possible peril.

The object of such language on the part of the Shah was, in all probability, to prevent Bajazet’s perceiving the danger he was incurring. Indeed he believed himself so sure of Tahmasp’s goodwill, that, when the latter was sending an ambassador to Solyman at Constantinople for the purpose, as was generally believed, of effecting a reconciliation between him and his son, he desired the envoy to tell Solyman, that though he had lost one father in Turkey he had found another in Persia. Whether, however, the Persian King was sincere in his efforts to restore Bajazet to his father’s favour by means of the numerous ambassadors he sent, may be reasonably doubted. For my own part, I consider it more probable that in all this the Shah’s concern for Bajazet’s welfare was pretended rather than genuine, and that his real object was to sound Solyman’s intentions; for in the meantime there was no pause in making all the preparations for his destruction. When they were sufficiently advanced, it was artfully suggested that his present quarters were too small for such a number of men, that provisions were getting scarce, and that it was advisable to distribute them among the neighbouring villages; this arrangement, it was urged, would be a more convenient one in many ways, and especially with regard to the supply of provisions. Shah Tahmasp, who had not his father’s courage, was indeed dreadfully alarmed, fancying that he was cherishing a serpent in his bosom. This is my own opinion, though there are people who maintain that it was not the Shah’s original intention to destroy Bajazet, but that he was forced to do so by the monstrous wickedness of some of the latter’s friends, who, forgetful of the benefits they had received and the ties of hospitality, urged Bajazet to rob him of his kingdom; that unmistakable proofs of such intentions were detected, nay, that an atrocious speech made by one of Bajazet’s chief officers was brought to the King’s ears; namely, ‘What are we about, and why do we hesitate to kill this heretic and seize his throne? Can any one doubt that through his treacherous plots we are in imminent danger of destruction?’ This it was, they say, that induced Shah Tahmasp to stoop to an expedient dictated by necessity rather than by honour.

Though the forces Bajazet had were not large, yet they were warlike, and among them were many brave men who were ready for any adventure; the Persian King was afraid of them, and not without reason either. He knew that his dynasty was one of recent origin, and that it had obtained the throne under the pretence of religion.226 Who could guarantee that among the numerous nations which owed him allegiance there would not be many persons who were dissatisfied, and consequently ripe for revolution? For them nothing more opportune could occur than Bajazet’s arrival, as he was a bold and vigorous man in the flower of youth, and had the most important qualification for a leader; namely, that his position was desperate. Hitherto, the Shah reflected, he seemed to be more in Bajazet’s power than Bajazet in his. A change must be made, and he must no longer treat him as a guest, but chain him like a wild beast. Nor would this be difficult to accomplish, if his troops were first dispersed, and he were then surprised and seized himself, when none of his men could help him. It was obvious that he could not be captured in open fight without much bloodshed. The Persian troops were enervated by a long peace, and were not concentrated; Bajazet’s, on the other hand, were on the spot, ready for action, and well drilled.

Accordingly it was suggested to Bajazet that he should separate his troops, and all the arguments in favour of such a course were pressed upon him. He felt that the appeal was unanswerable, though some gallant men in his service had the sagacity to see that the proposed arrangement wore a most suspicious appearance. But how could he refuse in his helpless position, when he had no other hope left, when his life was at the mercy of the Shah,—indeed he might deem himself lucky to be alive at all,—and when to doubt his host’s honour might be taken as a sign of the most treacherous intentions? So the poor fellows, who were never to meet again, were conducted to different villages and quartered where the Persians thought fit. After waiting a few days for a favourable opportunity, these scattered detachments were each surrounded by greatly superior forces, and butchered. Their horses, arms, clothes, and all their other effects became the booty of their murderers. At the same time Bajazet was seized while at the Shah’s table, and was thrown into chains. Some people think this violation of the laws of hospitality greatly aggravated the baseness of the act. His children likewise were placed in confinement.

You wished to have the latest news of Bajazet, so here it is for you. As to what is in store for him in the future, I think no one would find it easy to predict. Opinions vary; some people think he will be made a Sanjak-bey, and as such will be given Babylonia or some similar province, on the most distant frontiers of the dominions of the two monarchs. Others place no hope either in Tahmasp or Solyman, considering it all over with Bajazet, who, they think, will either be sent back here for execution, or perish miserably in prison. They argue that the Persian King, when he used force against Bajazet, did not do so without much consideration, fearing no doubt that if that active and high-spirited young man, who was a far better soldier than his brother, should succeed his father on the throne, much mischief would be thereby caused to his kingdom and himself. It would be much more to his advantage, if Selim, who is naturally inclined to gluttony and sloth, should become Sultan, since in that case there is good hope of peace and quiet for many a year. They are of opinion that for these reasons the Shah will never let Bajazet escape alive out of his hands, but will prefer to kill him in his prison; giving out a story, which no one could consider improbable, that the young man’s spirit had given way under confinement, and that he had died from mental depression. However that may be, it is in my judgment impossible for him to hope that one, whom he has so deeply injured, will ever be his friend.

You see different people have different opinions; I consider myself, that, whatever the end of the business may be, it will be a complicated one, as indeed I wish it may, for the success of our negotiations is closely connected with the fortunes of Bajazet. They will not be inclined to turn their arms against us till they see their way out of this difficulty. Even now they are trying to force on me for transmission to the Emperor despatches, and I know not what proposals for peace, which, they want me to believe, are very nearly in accordance with his wishes, but they do not give me any copy of them according to the usual practice, and this omission makes me suspect that they are not sincere. On this account I make a rule of resolutely refusing to forward despatches to the Emperor, without the purport of them being previously communicated to me. But, if after presenting me with a copy they should still deceive me, then I should be in possession of a document, which would at once free me from all responsibility, and convict them of dishonesty. In this course I am determined to persevere, and so to relieve my master from the difficulty of replying to their quibbling despatches, for he will accept no terms of peace that are not honourable. But you will say that by refusing proposals of peace, whatever their nature may be, a step towards war seems to be taken. Well, for my part, I consider it better policy to wait and see what will happen, without committing ourselves to any engagements. Meanwhile I will take the blame of not forwarding the despatches upon myself, and if the Turkish negotiators are disappointed in their hopes with regard to Bajazet’s speedy death, I do not think I shall find much trouble in clearing myself of it. In the other alternative, I shall have somewhat greater difficulties to overcome, but I consider that I shall have very good explanations to offer, and shall be able to assign adequate reasons for all I have done. The Turks are not in the habit of showing resentment towards those who they see are taking pains to manage their master’s affairs to the best of their ability. Besides, the Sultan is getting old, which is another point in my favour, as in the opinion of the Pashas he requires rest, and ought not to be exposed unnecessarily to the hardships of war. As regards myself, the policy I have sketched out must of course involve me in further trouble and vexation; but I feel that I am right, and if matters turn out as I hope, I shall have no reason to regret the sacrifice I am making.

Now you have got a book, not a letter. If I am to blame for this, you are equally so; you imposed the task; the labour bestowed on this despatch was taken at your desire. Complaisance is the only thing I can be blamed for, and yet this between friends is often considered a ground for commendation. I have some hopes however that you will find pleasure in reading what I found pleasure in writing. After I had once commenced my letter I was tempted to spin it out. For whilst writing to you I found that I felt free once more, and fancied myself to be enjoying your society in a far-distant land; you must therefore consider any trifling passages in my letter as the casual chit chat of a crony by your side. A letter has always been thought entitled to the same allowances as conversation. Neither ought to be closely criticised. Amongst friends you may say what first comes uppermost, and the same rule holds good when one is writing to intimate friends; to weigh one’s expressions would be to abandon one’s privileges. Just as public buildings require the perfection of workmanship, while nothing of the sort is expected in domestic offices, so this letter of mine does not pretend to be a work of general public interest, but simply some unpretentious jottings for the benefit of yourself and the friends to whom you may care to show it. If it only pleases you, I for my part am content. My Latin, some one might say, would bear improvement, and also my style. Well, I never said they would not. But what more can you expect of a man than his best? It is my ability, not my will, that is in fault. Besides it is absurd to expect scholarship from this land of barbarism. In fine, you must agree, if you do not despise my present letter, to receive an account of my remaining adventures till I return to Vienna, if, indeed, I ever do return; but whether I shall or not, I will now end and trouble you no further. Farewell.

Constantinople, June 1, 1560.