Introduction—Great disaster of the Christians at DjerbÉ—Their fleet surprised by PialÉ Pasha—Flight of the Duke of Medina to Sicily—Arrival of the news at Constantinople—Exultation of the Turks—Unsuccessful attempt of Don Alvaro de SandÉ to cut his way out, followed by the surrender of the garrison—Their hardships during the siege—Triumphal return of the victorious fleet to Constantinople—Solyman’s demeanour—Treatment of the prisoners—Busbecq rescues the royal standard of Naples—Fate of the Duke of Medina’s son—De SandÉ brought before the Divan and then imprisoned in the Castle of the Black Sea—Busbecq’s efforts to relieve the prisoners—Complaints of the ingratitude of some of them—Charity of Italian merchants—One notable exception—Religious scruples of the Sultan—He prohibits the importation of wine to Constantinople—Exemption of Busbecq and his household—Story of some Greeks—Busbecq’s request to leave his house on account of the plague refused by Roostem, but granted by Ali, his successor—Death of Roostem—Busbecq’s physician dies of the plague—Description of the Princes’ Islands—Fishing there—Pinnas—Franciscan Friar—Death rate from the plague at Constantinople—Turkish notions of Destiny—The Metropolitan Metrophanes—Return to Constantinople—Characters of Ali Pasha and Roostem contrasted—Anecdote of Roostem—The Emperor presents Busbecq with the money intended for Roostem—Busbecq’s interview with Ali—Accident of the latter—Incursion of John Basilicus into Moldavia—Conversation with Ali on the subject—Imprisoned pilgrims released by the intervention of Lavigne, the French ambassador—His character—Story of him and Roostem—Account of the Goths and Tartars of the Crimea—Gothic vocabulary—Turkish pilgrim’s account of China and of his journey thither—Extraordinary feats of Dervishes—Strictness of Busbecq’s imprisonment relaxed—His troubles in consequence of the quarrels between his servants and the Turks—Story given as an example—Annoyance of the Porte at the Treaty of Cateau CambrÉsis—Ibrahim, the first dragoman of the Porte, degraded from office through Lavigne’s, and restored to it through Busbecq’s, influence—Failure of Salviati’s attempt to procure the release of the Spanish prisoners—By Ibrahim’s advice Busbecq intervenes and obtains their release—The Mufti’s opinion—Continuation of the story of Bajazet—Persian ambassadors—Open 316house kept by Pashas before Ramazan—Story of a Khodja at a Pasha’s table—Solyman’s negotiations for Bajazet’s surrender—Strong feeling of the army in his favour—Hassan Aga and the Pasha of Marasch sent to the Shah, who gives leave for Bajazet’s execution—He and his sons are executed in prison—Touching account of the death of the youngest at Broussa—Argument between Busbecq and his cavasse about predestination—Peace negotiations unfavourably affected by Bajazet’s death—Further difficulties apprehended on account of the defection of some Hungarian nobles from John Sigismund to Ferdinand—Terms of peace previously settled adhered to notwithstanding the remonstrances of John Sigismund’s ambassadors—The dragoman Ibrahim selected to return with Busbecq—Ali’s presents to Busbecq—Busbecq’s farewell audience of Solyman—He starts on his return—At Sophia Leyva and Requesens part company and go to Ragusa—Pleasant journey home of Busbecq and de SandÉ—Quarrel at Tolna between the Janissary stationed there and one of Busbecq’s servants—Arrival at Buda after meeting Turkish fanatics—Arrival at Gran, Komorn, Vienna—Busbecq learns that the Emperor is at the Diet at Frankfort—He proceeds thither with Ibrahim and is graciously received—Coronation of Maximilian—Peace ratified—Busbecq longs for home—His bad opinion of courts—His preference for a quiet country life—Panegyric of Ferdinand—His Fabian tactics against the Turks justified—His private life—Animals and curiosities brought back by Busbecq—Balsam—Lemnian earth—Coins—MSS.—Dioscorides—Conclusion.

I must first acknowledge the kind and cordial manner in which you congratulate me on my return. Next, as regards your request for a narrative of my experiences during the latter part of my embassy, and for any pleasant stories I may have heard, I beg to assure your Excellency that I am fully sensible of the obligation I have undertaken. I have not forgotten it, and have no intention of defrauding so obliging a creditor as yourself. So here at your service are the events that followed my last letter, whether trifling, amusing, or serious. I intend, as in my other letters, to jot things down as they occur to me, though in this case I shall have to begin with a most disheartening tale.

I had scarcely recovered from the bad news of Bajazet’s misfortunes and imprisonment, when we were overwhelmed by a piece of intelligence, which was equally unfavourable. Tidings were then expected at Constantinople of the result of the expedition of the Turkish fleet, which had been summoned to Meninx by the reports of the Spanish successes on that island, which is now called DjerbÉ.227 Solyman was deeply hurt at hearing that this island had been taken by the Christians, new outworks added to the citadel, and a garrison thrown into the place; as master of a great empire in the full tide of prosperity, he felt that he must avenge the insult. For this reason he determined to assist a nation which was attached to him by the ties of a common faith, and despatched an army and fleet to their assistance under the command of the Admiral PialÉ Pasha, who had manned his ships with a numerous body of picked soldiers. The men, however, were anxious, dreading the length of the voyage, and being cowed by the prestige which the enemy had acquired. The great successes gained by the Spanish arms both in ancient and modern times, had made a deep impression on the minds of the Turks. They remembered the Emperor Charles, and heard every day of his son King Philip, who had inherited both the valour and the realms of his father. Hence great anxiety prevailed, and many, under the idea they were bound on a desperate service, made their wills before leaving Constantinople, like men convinced they were fated to return no more. Thus the whole city was distracted by various apprehensions, and everyone, whether he embarked or not, suffered keenly from the strain caused by the uncertainty of the result of the war.

But the winds were favourable to the Turkish fleet; our men were taken by surprise, and such a panic ensued, that they had neither the courage to fight nor the sense to fly; some galleys that were ready for action sought safety in flight; the remainder ran aground, and were either miserably wrecked on the shoals, or surrounded and taken by the enemy. The Duke of Medina, the commander of the expedition, retreated into the citadel with John Andrew Doria, the admiral. Favoured by the darkness, they embarked early in the night in a small boat, and boldly steering through the enemy’s blockading squadron, reached Sicily in safety.

PialÉ sent a galley here with news of this victory, and, to proclaim more openly the tidings she brought, she trailed in the water from her stern a large flag, on which, according to the account the Turks gave, was embroidered a representation of our Saviour Christ on the Cross. When she entered the harbour, the report of the Christian defeat ran through the whole city, and the Turks began congratulating each other on their great success. They gathered in crowds at my door, and asked my men in mockery, had they any brother, kinsman, or relation in the Spanish fleet? ‘If so,’ said they, ‘you will soon have the pleasure of seeing them.’ They were loud moreover in extolling the valour of their people, and expressing their scorn at the cowardice of the Christians. ‘What power,’ they asked, ‘had we left that could resist them, now that the Spaniard was vanquished?’

My men were obliged to listen to these speeches to their great sorrow, but they had to bear them, as God had so ordered it, and it could not be changed. One thought alone sustained us, the hope that the defence of the citadel, which the Spaniards still held with a strong garrison, could be made good, till winter or some accident should compel the enemy to raise the siege. We had not much hope, however, as we knew that success was far more likely to attend the victors than the vanquished, and so indeed it proved, for the besieged being hard pressed and in great want of everything, especially water, at last surrendered the citadel and themselves.

Don Alvaro de SandÉ, who commanded the troops, a man of great courage and reputation, when he saw they could hold out no longer, attempted to sally out of the citadel with a few attendants, and seize a small ship, and so cross to Sicily; hoping thus to save the high character he had earned as a soldier from the disgrace which accompanies a surrender, however unavoidable; for he was determined that, whoever might have to bear the responsibility, it should not rest on his shoulders.

The result of his attempt was that the citadel fell into the hands of the enemy, for the soldiers opened the gates, which they could no longer defend, in the hope of appeasing the enemy by a voluntary surrender. Don Juan de Castella refused to leave the outwork entrusted to his charge, but fought against the enemy with his brother at his side, till he was wounded at last, and taken prisoner.

The citadel had been defended by the Spaniards with great resolution for more than three months, though almost every necessary, and—worst of all—even the hope of relief, had failed them. In that burning climate nothing was more trying to the troops than the want of water. There was only one reservoir, and though it was large and well supplied with water, it was not sufficient for such a number. Accordingly a fixed allowance was distributed to each man, just sufficient to sustain life. Many eked out their ration by adding sea-water, which had been purified of most of its salt by distillation. This expedient had been imparted to them, when they had sore need of it, by a skilful alchemist; however, it was not everyone that had the necessary apparatus, so that many were to be seen stretched on the ground at the point of death with their mouths gaping, and continually repeating the one word ‘water.’ If anyone had compassion on them and poured a little water into their mouths, they would get up and raise themselves to a sitting posture, till, when the good effect of the draught was exhausted, they would fall back on the same spot, and at last expire of thirst. Accordingly, besides those who were slain, and those who died from sickness and the want of medical attendance on that desolate spot, numbers perished in the manner I have described from want of water.

In the month of September the victorious fleet returned to Constantinople, bringing with it the prisoners, the spoils, and the galleys they had taken from our people, a sight as joyful for the eyes of the Turks, as it was grievous and lamentable for us.

That night the fleet anchored off some rocks near Constantinople, as they did not wish to enter the harbour till morning, when the spectacle would be more striking, and there would be a greater crowd of spectators. Solyman had gone down to the colonnade close to the mouth of the harbour, which forms part of his gardens, that he might have a nearer view of his fleet as it entered, and also of the Christian officers who were exhibited on the deck. On the poop of the admiral’s galley were Don Alvaro de SandÉ and the commanders of the Sicilian and Neapolitan galleys, Don Berenguer de Requesens and Don Sancho de Leyva. The captured galleys had been stripped of their oars and upper works and reduced to mere hulks, in which condition they were towed along; and thus made to appear small, ugly, and contemptible compared with those of the Turks.

Those who saw Solyman’s face in this hour of triumph failed to detect in it the slightest trace of undue elation. I can myself positively declare, that when I saw him two days later on his way to the mosque, the expression of his countenance was unchanged: his stern features had lost nothing of their habitual gloom; one would have thought that the victory concerned him not, and that this startling success of his arms had caused him no surprise. So self-contained was the heart of that grand old man, so schooled to meet each change of Fortune however great, that all the applause and triumph of that day wrung from him no sign of satisfaction.

A few days afterwards the prisoners were conducted to the Palace. The poor fellows were half dead from the privations they had undergone. The greater part could scarcely stand on their feet; many fell down from weakness and fainted; some were actually dying. They were insulted and hustled on the way, and compelled to wear their armour with the front turned to the back like so many scarecrows.

Around them were heard the voices of the Turks, who taunted them, and promised themselves the dominion of the world. For now that the Spaniard had been conquered, they said, what enemy was left that could be feared?

There was in that expedition a Turkish officer of the highest rank, with whom I was acquainted. The first or royal standard of the Neapolitan galleys, bearing the arms of all the provinces of the Kings of Spain quartered with the Imperial Eagle, had fallen into his hands. When I heard that he meant to present it to Solyman, I determined to make an effort to anticipate him and get possession of it. The matter was easily arranged by my sending him a present of two silk dresses. Thus I prevented the glorious coat-of-arms of Charles V. from remaining with the enemy as a perpetual memorial of that defeat.

Besides the officers I have mentioned, there were among the prisoners two gentlemen of high birth, namely, Don Juan de Cardona, the son-in-law of Don Berenguer, and Don Gaston, the son of the Duke of Medina; the latter, though hardly yet arrived at manhood, had held a high post in his father’s army. Don Juan had cleverly managed, by promising a large sum, to get himself left at Chios, which is still occupied by its ancient Genoese inhabitants.228 PialÉ had concealed Gaston in hopes of getting a great price for his ransom. But this trick proved well nigh fatal to its contriver. For Solyman, having by some means or other got wind of it, was extremely displeased, and at Roostem’s instigation made diligent search for Gaston’s hiding-place, intending to produce him in evidence of PialÉ’s guilt, and thereby justify the execution of the latter.229 But the plan failed through Gaston’s death. Some believe he died of the plague, but it is more probable that PialÉ had him murdered, for fear of anything transpiring against himself. At any rate, he could not be traced, though the agents of his father, the Duke of Medina, spared no pains to find him. One may well suspect that PialÉ had no scruple in securing his own safety by the murder of Gaston. Notwithstanding, he lived a long time in great fear, and avoiding Constantinople, on various pretexts kept coasting about the islands of the Ægean with a few galleys. He was afraid to come into the presence of his offended master, feeling sure that he would be forthwith manacled, tried, and condemned. At last Solyman was softened by the entreaties of the chief of the eunuchs of his bedchamber, and of his son Selim, and gave him his royal pardon, the very words of which I am glad to be able to repeat. ‘As far as I am concerned let him enjoy pardon and impunity for his terrible crime; but after this life may God, that most just avenger of evil deeds, inflict on him the punishment he deserves.’ So rooted is his conviction, that no evil deed ought to go unpunished.

Fortune was more favourable to Don Juan de Cardona. Luckily for him his amiable sister is the wife of a distinguished Austrian Baron, Adam von Dietrichstein,230 who, after a great deal of trouble, got him sent back to Spain, on my becoming surety for his ransom.

When de SandÉ was brought into the Divan, or Assembly of the Pashas, and Roostem asked him, ‘What had put it into his master’s head to attack the territories of others when he could not defend his own?’ he replied, ‘This was no matter for him to decide; his duty was to be faithful in executing his master’s orders to the utmost of his ability. He had done his best and had been unfortunate.’ Then kneeling down he entreated the Pashas to intercede with Solyman for his life, saying, that he had a wife and a young family at home, and he entreated them to spare his life for their sake. Roostem replied, ‘His Emperor was of a clement disposition, and he had good hopes of obtaining mercy for him.’

So de SandÉ was ordered to be taken to the fortress they call Caradenis, which means ‘of the Black Sea,’ but he had not gone far when he was recalled. The only reason for his being sent for again was, that the chief of the bedchamber eunuchs, whom I mentioned before, and who has great influence with the Sultan, had not yet seen him, and wished to do so. It was noticed that as he came back his nerves, usually so strong, appeared to be shaken, and he seemed to be afraid that the Pashas had altered their decision, and were bringing him back for execution.

The other prisoners of importance were confined in the Tower of Pera, or Galata, as it is sometimes called. Among them were Don Sancho de Leyva, with his two bastard sons, and also Don Berenguer.

After I had been informed of their condition and the great privations they were undergoing, I felt it my duty to come to their relief. I therefore sent visitors to express my sympathy, and assure them of my readiness to give them such assistance as lay in my power. From that time my house was the general rendezvous of all the prisoners, nor was I ever backward in giving them help as far as my means allowed.

The Turks consider they have made ample provision for their prisoners, if they have bread and water enough. As to what the age of each prisoner, his habits and state of health, or the season of the year may demand, they take no account, and treat all in the same way, whether they are sick or well or just recovering from illness, strong or delicate, old or young. I had, therefore, a wide field for the exercise of my charity, inasmuch as each case required special treatment. A great multitude of the sick were lying in a mosque in Pera, the town situated opposite Byzantium, immediately across the bay. About them the Turks did not think it worth while to take any more trouble, indeed they considered them as good as dead. Many of them died from want of proper nourishment, either during the illness itself or during convalescence; for they had no bowl of soup or dainty dish to tempt their feeble appetite, and thus enable them gradually to regain their strength. Being informed of this, I commissioned a citizen of Pera, who was a friend of mine, to buy some sheep every day, boil them at home, and divide them among the prisoners, giving meat to some and broth to others, as each man’s case happened to require, and this was of service to not a few. This I did for the sick; those who were well required help of another kind.

My house from early morning till evening was filled with a crowd of those who sought assistance for their different troubles. Some, who had been accustomed to sumptuous tables, could not digest their daily ration of dry black bread, and required the means of procuring some relish to eat with it. There were others whose stomachs could not endure perpetual water-drinking, and wanted a little wine to mix with it. Some needed blankets, as they had nothing but the bare ground to sleep on, and therefore suffered from cold at night; one was in want of a cloak, another of shoes. The most numerous requests were for the means wherewith to fee their jailers, and thus render them more merciful.

To cure all these troubles money was the only remedy, so that a day never passed without several pieces of gold being thus expended.

But this evil was endurable and not fatal; another and a more ruinous one was impending from the persons who demanded that larger sums should be lent them, or wanted me to be surety for the amount of their ransom. None of them lacked some plausible pretext for puffing himself off, and maintaining that his own case had the best claim on my bounty. One put forward his high rank and his powerful relations or connections, another his long service and his captain’s commission, a third his great wealth at home and his ability to pay the debt without delay. Some too boasted of their own valour, and their glorious exploits in war. All, in a word, thought they had a fair claim for assistance on some ground or other. If a question was asked as to their credit and whether they would remember to pay, they told me to make myself perfectly easy; for what, said they, could be more unjust than to involve the man who had done them this great service in pecuniary difficulties and losses, when they owed to him their freedom and their lives, and had been rescued by him as it were from the very jaws of death?

And indeed it was most grievous for me to hear, ‘Unless I have this moment in ready money two hundred pieces of gold, it is all over with me; I shall be taken over into Asia, or sent I know not whither as a galley-slave,231 without any hope of ever recovering my freedom or seeing my home again. There is a merchant, who will not refuse to supply goods sufficient to raise the sum, if you will only go security.’ Such statements were the only warranty they generally gave me; but I could not help being influenced by them when I reflected that what they said was true. Unless they were assisted, a large part of them must inevitably perish by various calamities, and there was no one on the spot, who had greater means of helping them than myself, or on whom they had a stronger claim.

But you will say against me, I know, ‘No one is to be trusted;’ but who in the world could suppose that anyone would be such a monster of ingratitude as not to repay the money, which had been advanced to save his life? Suppose one or two lacked, not the will, but the means. Well, I must risk it, and after all what is spent in doing a good turn to a good man is never really lost. The majority at any rate will act honestly.

I was induced by such considerations to pledge my credit for many thousand crowns, and to plunge myself into such a deep abyss, that I do not know how I am to get out of it; indeed I am afraid that in getting them out of prison I have got myself into it. I have been explicit on this subject, as I wish to clear myself of blame for want of judgment in being too ready to lend. I must admit that the neglect to repay in certain cases has made me suspect that I shall not get out of the business without heavy loss. Nay, I have been already obliged to pay the money for which I went security for some of them, and I remember that remarks of certain among them came to my ears, who, though they had been saved by my good offices, yet made a joke of my extreme readiness in complying with their requests, and dubbed me for my pains a scatter-brained fool. From this I can gather how some of them will treat their obligations. But all this is in God’s hands. However it may turn out, I do not see why I should regret having done a kindness to many.

I look for no extraordinary recompense for myself, and wish no honours, no statue voted me. All I ask is, that they should carry their gratitude so far as to repay honestly what I have spent to save their lives. I do not despair of this from so gallant a nation as the Spaniards.

I am glad to say that I not only did my part in contributing, but also by my example was the means of inducing many others to come forward and give valuable assistance. There are among the citizens and residents of Pera many Italian merchants, and these displayed extraordinary zeal in assisting the prisoners. There was, however, one exception, and I shall never forget his reasoning on the matter, it was so absurd. He was an Italian Greek, i.e., both in birth and manners half Greek and half Italian. When all his countrymen were doing their utmost to forward the good work, he never could be induced to spend a farthing on any of the prisoners. When he was accused on that score, he defended himself thus, in broken and barbarous Italian, for Greek was more familiar to him. ‘I do not know what sort of people these are, but I can easily guess they have not been brought into this misery except by the just judgment of God. I will not run counter to the Divine Will; as far as I am concerned, let them stay in the place where God has chosen them to be. I shall not be surprised if you, who so daringly come between them and the decrees of Providence, have reason to repent of it hereafter. No one shall persuade me to lay out on them as much as a single penny.’ Such was his view of the matter. So much for this foolish prognosticator.

This naval defeat of the Christians, coupled with Bajazet’s disaster, caused me great anxiety; I was afraid that I should find the Turks elated by success, and consequently more exacting in my negotiations for peace. Besides the public misfortunes, I also sustained a personal loss; the plague invaded my house, carrying off one of my most faithful servants, and causing a panic among the other members of my household.

Of this I will speak a little later, when I have mentioned another trouble that befell us, which, though less than the former, caused me considerable anxiety. The Sultan is becoming every day more scrupulous in religious matters, or in other words, more superstitious. He used to enjoy hearing a choir of boys, who sang to the accompaniment of stringed instruments. But all this has been done away with by the interposition of some old hag, renowned for her profession of sanctity, who threatened him with heavy punishments hereafter if he did not give up this amusement. Alarmed by her denunciations, he broke up all his musical instruments and threw them into the fire, though they were of excellent workmanship, and adorned with gold and jewels.

Some one found such fault with him for eating off silver plate, that he has used nothing but earthenware ever since.

Then some one appeared who blamed the Sultan for allowing wine to be used so freely in the city, and so made him feel conscientious scruples at neglecting Mahomet’s directions on this head. Therefore proclamation was made that thenceforth no wine should be imported into Constantinople, not even for the Christians or the Jews. This proclamation concerned me and mine not a little, as we were by no means accustomed to drinking water. For where could we get wine, if it was not allowed to enter the walls of the city? Long home-sickness and the continued uncertainty about the result of our negotiations had already told upon our strength, and this compulsory change in our diet was, in consequence, likely to be very prejudicial to our health. I commissioned my interpreters to make strong representations to the Pashas in the Divan, and to maintain our ancient privileges. There opinions were divided. Some thought we ought to be content with drinking water, for what would the neighbourhood say, demurred they, if they saw we had wine brought into our house? Why, that while they were strictly forbidden its use, Christians in the midst of Constantinople were swilling away to their hearts’ content, and polluting the city far and wide with the fumes of their liquor. Nay, even Mussulmans who came to me went away reeking with wine. These considerations proved well nigh fatal to our suit. However, the opinion of the Pashas who took special charge of our interests, finally prevailed. They declared that we were not able to stand such a change of diet, and warned the Divan that sickness and death would in many cases be the consequence. The end of it was, that we were allowed the choice of one night, on which we might have as much wine as we wished conveyed to the sea-gate, this being the most convenient point for us. There we had carts and horses to meet it, and bring it into the house with as little noise as possible, and so we retained our rights.

Some members of the Greek nation did not fail to put the Sultan to the test in the following fashion. Having ascertained that he was about to pass through a district which was planted with numerous vineyards, they assembled in great numbers, and began tearing up the vines by the roots. Some of them commenced to block the road with the vine stocks, and others to load carts with them. When the Sultan came to the place, he stopped, wondering what the matter could be, and calling to him the nearest of the men, inquired what they were about. They answered, that as by his proclamation they were forbidden to drink wine, they were rooting up the vines for firewood, as they would be useless for the future. Then Solyman replied, ‘You are wrong, and have not understood my intentions, as you ought to have done. If I enjoined abstinence from wine, I did not therefore prevent anyone’s eating grapes. Grapes are to be reckoned among the most excellent of the fruits which God has granted to man. There is nothing to hinder you from enjoying their juice while fresh, so long as you do not put it up in casks, and turn it to a wrong use by your pernicious art. Do you think pear-trees and apple-trees ought to be rooted up because they do not produce wine? Leave off, you fools, and spare the vines, which will bear you excellent fruit.’ Thus the Greeks took nothing by their scheme.

I now return to the plague, which, as I told you, had attacked our house. When it broke out, I sent to Roostem to ask for permission to remove to some place that was free from infection. I did so with hesitation, as I was acquainted with his character; still I could not incur the imputation of neglecting my own health and that of my servants. Roostem answered, he would lay my request before the Sultan, and the next day sent me back word that his master had made this reply: ‘What did I mean, or where did I think of flying? did I not know that pestilence is God’s arrow which never misses its mark? where in the world could I hide myself, so as to be shielded from the stroke of His weapons? If He ordained that the pestilence should strike me, neither flight nor concealment would be of any avail. To try to escape from the inevitable was a vain attempt. His own palace was not at that very moment free from the plague, but nevertheless he stayed there, and it was likewise my duty to remain where I was.’ Thus I was obliged to await my doom in that plague-stricken house.

But not long afterwards it came to pass that Roostem was carried off by an attack of dropsy.232 He was succeeded by Ali, who was then the second of the Vizieral Pashas, the most courteous and sagacious statesman I ever met among the Turks.233 When I sent him a valuable silken robe with my congratulations on his promotion, I received a gracious reply, for he asked me to treat him as a friend on every occasion, and not to hesitate to apply to him if necessary, and indeed he was as good as his word.

The first occasion on which I experienced his kindness was, when the plague broke out afresh in my house, and, besides attacking other members of my household, carried off the excellent gentleman, who, under God, had been our chief support in time of sickness. I sent to Ali Pasha to ask the same permission I had formerly asked of Roostem. He replied that he could give me leave to go where I pleased, but it would be more prudent to ask that of the Sultan as well, for fear that if he should happen to fall in with my men going about at large, he should be angry at my being outside my lodgings without his knowledge. Everything, he said, depended on the way in which a matter was brought to the Sultan’s notice, and that he would lay the subject before him in such a manner as to leave no doubt of his assent. Soon afterwards he informed me that I had permission to go wherever I thought proper.

The island they call Prinkipo234 appeared to be the most convenient place for my retirement. It is four hours’ sail from the city, and is the most agreeable of the numerous little islands which are in the neighbourhood of Constantinople, for the others have only one village or none at all, but this has two.

As to what I said, that the person on whose skill we had chiefly relied had been taken away from us by death, this was none other than my most excellent and faithful companion during my long sojourn abroad, our doctor, William Quacquelben.

I had ransomed a man, who (though I did not know it at the time), proved to be stricken with the plague. While William was endeavouring to treat him for the disease, being not sufficiently careful of himself, he got infected with the plague poison. On this point he did not agree with the rest of his profession, but declared that, when the plague was rife there was more panic than real danger; his opinion being that, at such times there is about the average amount of different kinds of illness, and that people are then so nervous, that they think most of them are the plague, and that consequently every sort of ulcer or pimple is then regarded as a plague boil, and treated accordingly. And so, although he was already sickening of the plague, he never suspected what was the matter with him, until the sickness, which had been increased by his concealing it, broke out with violent paroxysms. He all but died in the hands of those who ran to support him, and not even then could he be induced to believe it was an attack of the plague. When I sent, the day before he died, to make inquiries, he replied he was better, and asked me to come to him, if I could spare the time. I sat with him a long time, and he told me how very ill he had been. All his senses, he said, and especially his sight, had been so impaired that he could recognise no one. He was now better in this respect and had the command of all of them; the phlegm only continued, which interfered with his breathing, and if this were relieved he would be well at once. As I was leaving him, I said, I heard he had some sort of abscess on his breast. He admitted that such was the case, and throwing back the bed-clothes showed it me, saying, there was nothing bad about it, he had got it from the knots of a new doublet he had put on, which was too tight.

In the evening, according to the rules of my house, two of my servants went to attend him for the night, and were preparing to change his shirt. When he was stripped, he noticed on his body a purple spot which they said was a flea-bite, and then he saw more and bigger ones. ‘These are no flea-bites,’ said he, ‘but messengers to tell me my death is near. Let us therefore profit by this warning.’ From that moment he devoted the whole of the night to prayer, pious meditation, and listening to the Scriptures being read, until as morning broke, he departed this life with full assurance of God’s mercy.235

Thus I lost a very dear friend and excellent fellow-worker, while the loss to the literary world was not less than mine. He had seen, learnt, and taken note of many things, and intended sooner or later to publish the results of his observations, but death cut short the work he had so admirably planned. So highly did I appreciate his loyalty and his tact, that, if the state of my negotiations had permitted, and I had been granted permission to return, I should not have hesitated to leave him as my deputy at Constantinople. From that time it appeared as if my labours were doubled, and now that I have returned home, I seem to have left a portion of myself behind in my dear friend’s grave at Constantinople. May peace be with his blessed spirit! His virtues are recorded on the monument, which I erected to his memory.

But to return to my islands,236 on which I lived very pleasantly for three months. I enjoyed the greatest privacy, there was neither crowd nor noise. There were a few Greeks on the island in whose houses we lodged, but there was no Turk to act the jailer and dog my footsteps when I wanted to amuse myself; for the Turkish servants, to whom I had grown accustomed, did not interfere with me, and I was allowed to wander freely where I would, and to coast about the numerous islands as I pleased.

Every place there is full of plants of different sorts, cottonweed, narrow-leaved myrtle, knapweed, and many others. The sea abounds with fish of every kind, which I caught sometimes with a hook and sometimes with a net. Boats were to be had with Greek fishermen, whom we employed to help us.

I used to cross to any spot that presented an agreeable view, or held out good hopes of sport. Sometimes, where the water was clear and shallow, I took a fancy to carry on open warfare by spearing with a trident a crab or a lobster as he scuttled along, and so pulling him into the boat. But the mode of fishing, which was at once the most pleasant and the most profitable, was that with a seine or drag-net.

I had a place, which the fishermen thought likely, surrounded with a drag-net, and, by making use not only of the net itself but also of the long ropes with which its two ends were dragged ashore, we managed to enclose a very considerable space. Round these ropes the sailors twined a quantity of green boughs to scare the fish and prevent their escaping into deep water. So, when the ends of the net on either side were drawn to land, the fish were driven into a narrow space; they then began to get frightened and did their best to escape, each following its natural instinct. Some tried to avoid the danger by a bold leap over the net. Others, on the contrary, by burrowing in the sand endeavoured to save themselves from being entangled. Some tried to gnaw through the meshes, though they were made of very coarse twine; these were mostly of the shark tribe, which are armed with powerful teeth. These creatures have such instinct that when they have bitten away twine enough to open a passage for one, the whole shoal follows where the first has got out, and leaves not one for the fisherman. As I was afraid of this trick, of which I had been warned beforehand, I stood in the bows holding a pole with which I kept striking their noses as they gnawed at the net, much to the amusement of my attendants. My efforts were rewarded with only partial success; a few were caught, but a great many got away. So you see that even a fish, when hard put to it, can turn cunning. However, we took plenty of other fish to console us for the loss of some of the sharks—such as sea bream, sea scorpions, weavers, char, rock-fish, and ruffs. Their variety made them a pretty sight, and I greatly enjoyed making out their names and habits. So at night I returned to my camp with my bark wreathed with laurels, and laden with booty and prisoners. The next day I shared my spoils with Ali Pasha and his major-domo, who returned me their grateful thanks, and said the present was very acceptable.

I sometimes took a fancy to capture pinnas, for which I used a pole and iron contrivance made for the purpose, with which I pulled them up from the bottom. They are very plentiful in that sea, so much so that they seem to have been artificially laid down. I found in them the pinna-guards, celebrated by Cicero, Pliny, and AthenÆus, which were usually in pairs, a male and a female, but sometimes in larger numbers. I am afraid, however, that the other statements made about them by the above authors are not altogether to be trusted. That they are interesting, I admit; the question is, are they based on fact. They relate that the pinna with its shells wide open lies in wait for tiny fishes, but that, as it is a blind and senseless lump of flesh, it would not know when they are inside its fortalice, if it were not warned by a bite from the pinna-guard; then it closes its shells, and shares with the pinna-guard the fishes that are shut in. For the shape of the pinna, you may consult Belon.237 It fixes the sharper of its two ends into the bottom of the sea, and fastens itself by a tuft of hair or thread, so firmly, that one might think it was planted there. By these threads it sucks up its nutriment, which is clearly proved from the fact that, if torn up from its place, it dies from want of nourishment, like vegetables and plants when severed from their roots. But it is probable the pinna-guard chooses this home in order to have a strong defence against the violence of ravenous fishes and a quiet haven when the sea is boisterous, from which it can sally out when it likes, and retreat again in safety. I should not, however, wish in saying this to be suspected of intending to detract at all from the authority of such great men; my object is simply to draw the attention of others to the subject in the hope of its being investigated more thoroughly.238 We used to have no difficulty in filling our boat with pinnas; they are not good eating, and you would soon get tired of them, being coarse and tasting like mussels. But the fisherman told us to pick out the pinna-guards, of which a dish was made, that was alike agreeable to the palate and wholesome for the stomach.

Among the rest there is a small island, which is uninhabited. Close to it I recollect capturing monstrous and extraordinary creatures, such as starfishes, razorshells, clusters of cuttlefish eggs, sea-horses, enormous snails, and some yellow balls like oranges, but no fishes, except one skate or sting-ray, which is capable of inflicting a serious wound with its sting. It tried to strike us, and in so doing impaled itself and was caught.

When the weather kept us from the sea, I amused myself on shore in looking for rare and new plants. Sometimes by way of exercise, I walked round the island, dragging with me a Franciscan friar, a capital young fellow, but, though young, very fat and unaccustomed to exertion. He had gone with me as a companion from the monastery at Pera. One day, as I was walking fast to warm myself, he followed me with difficulty, puffing and blowing, ‘What need is there,’ he would cry, ‘for such a hurry? We are not running for our lives or chasing anybody! Are we postmen charged with letters of importance?’ This went on till the sweat broke out in his back through his clothes in a great round patch. When we returned to our lodging, he made the house echo with his groans and lamentations, and threw himself on his bed, crying out he was done for. ‘What harm,’ he exclaimed, ‘have I ever done you that you should try to kill me before my time?’ And it was only by dint of much pressing that we could induce him to come to supper.

Occasionally friends from Constantinople and Pera and some Germans of Ali’s household paid us a visit. When I asked them ‘Whether the plague was abating?’ one of them replied, ‘Yes, in a marked degree.’ ‘What is the daily death-rate then?’ quoth I, ‘About five hundred,’ said he. ‘Good God,’ I exclaimed, ‘do you call this the plague abating? How many used to die when it was at its height?’ ‘About a thousand or twelve hundred,’ he answered.

The Turks imagine that the time and manner of each man’s death is inscribed by God on his forehead, and that therefore they have no power of avoiding the fatal hour, and that till that time there is no need for fear. This belief renders them indifferent to the dangers of the plague, but does not secure them against its attacks. And so they handle the clothes and sheets in which plague-stricken people have expired, while they are still reeking with their death-sweat, and even rub their faces with them. ‘If God,’ say they, ‘has decreed that I shall die thus, it must happen; if not, it cannot injure me.’ This of course is just the way to spread contagion, and sometimes whole households perish to a man.

While I lived in the islands I made friends with the Metropolitan239 Metrophanes, who was abbot of a monastery in Chalcis, one of the islands, a polite and well-educated man, who was very anxious for a union of the Latin and Greek Churches. In this he differed from the views entertained by Greeks generally, for they will hold no communion with members of the Latin Church, which they consider an impure and profane sect. This shows how strong is each man’s conviction of the truth of his own faith.

When I had spent about two months in the island, some of the Pashas became suspicious of my long stay, sought an interview with Ali, and told him that they considered it would be more convenient if I were recalled to the city. For what if I should escape? I had ships at my command, and everything that was needful to facilitate my flight, should I be so inclined. Ali told them to set their minds at ease, saying, he had the most perfect confidence in me. He sent me, notwithstanding, a cavasse to tell me of this. The man, after examining everything, without appearing to do so, and finding nothing to indicate an intention of running away, returned with a message from me to Ali Pasha not to be afraid; I would do nothing which would give him cause to repent of his confidence in me. I took care, by the way, to give the cavasse a douceur. So my holiday was prolonged into the third month, and I returned to the city, at my own time, without being recalled.

From that time forward Ali Pasha and I became firm friends, and were for ever interchanging views with the object of re-establishing peace. He is a Dalmatian by birth, and the only polished gentleman I came across among the Turkish savages. He is of a quiet and gentle disposition, courteous, and extremely intelligent, possesses great capacity for business, and has had much experience both as general in the field and statesman in the cabinet. For he is now advanced in life, and the posts he has held have always been important ones. He is above the average height, and, while his habitual expression is grave and serious, it has about it an ineffable charm. To his master he is deeply attached, and he shows it by his anxiety to arrange a peace, for he feels that the Sultan’s health and years require rest. The end which Roostem had sought to bring about by rudeness and intimidation he endeavoured to compass by courtesy and moderation;—in short, Ali treated me like a friend.

Roostem was always sour, always overbearing, and meant his word to be law. It was not that he was ignorant of how matters stood. He knew right well what the condition of the times and the Sultan’s advancing years required, but he was afraid that, if any word or act of his should betoken a milder mood, he would be suspected of hankering after a bribe, for his master had no confidence in his integrity in this respect. For this reason he did not desist from his usual rudeness, although he was desirous of patching up a peace. Accordingly, when anything was said that did not please him, he refused to listen to me, and showed me the door, so that every conference I had with him ended in his losing his temper; though I cannot be sure that his anger was not sometimes assumed.

On one occasion, I remember, when I had been treating with him on matters concerning the peace, and he had rejected my propositions as inadmissible, and had told me to be off, if I had no other proposals to make, I immediately rose and went home, having first said that it was not in my power to go beyond my instructions. As he thought I had done this with unusual warmth, he called back my interpreter and asked him if I was displeased. When the interpreter replied in the negative, ‘I want your opinion,’ said Roostem; ‘if I were to obtain from my master the terms he has mentioned to me, do you think he would be as good as his word and pay me down the present he has promised me?’ When the interpreter said he felt no doubt that I would most faithfully perform whatever I had promised, Roostem replied, ‘Go home and ask him.’ I had by me in ready money 5,000 ducats, which are equivalent to 6,000 crowns. With these I loaded my interpreter, and ordered him to tell Roostem to keep them as a proof of my good faith and as a first instalment, saying, that the rest would follow when the business was concluded (for I had promised him a still larger sum), I was not in the habit of breaking my word. Roostem was delighted to see the money, fingered it, and then gave it back to the interpreter, saying, ‘I do not doubt his good faith; but as to the peace there are difficulties of no ordinary kind in the way; I cannot give him any positive assurance about it, indeed I do not yet know my master’s intentions. Go, take the money back to the Ambassador that he may keep it for me, till it is certain what turn the business will take. In the mean time he must be my banker.’

So I saved my money after all, Roostem himself being carried off by death some months afterwards.

I must now tell you of the goodness of our most gracious Emperor. When there seemed no object in keeping this sum any longer, after giving due notice to the Emperor, I applied it to meet a year’s expenditure (for our annual outlay amounted to 6,000 crowns). I afterwards repented of this, when I began to reflect on the number of years and the great labours and dangers this embassy had cost me already; I thought I had not done myself justice, inasmuch as though I knew the money was but my due, and I had a most excellent and generous master, a most just judge of everyone’s deserts, I had forgotten to avail myself of the opportunity, and had made no effort to secure for myself the money which had been saved, beyond all hope, like a lamb snatched from the very jaws of the wolf. There are many at court who have obtained far greater rewards for far smaller services. I determined to call the Emperor’s attention to the case, admit my error, and ask him to restore the entire sum, and to set right with his usual princely generosity the mistake I had committed through my carelessness. I had no difficulty in making out my case before so considerate a judge; he ordered the six thousand pieces of gold to be repaid me out of his treasury. If I shall ever allow my master’s great generosity to fade from my memory, I shall account myself unworthy to live.

But to return to my subject; there was a striking contrast between the characters of the Pashas Ali and Roostem. The career of the former had been such as to place his integrity in money matters above all suspicion. Consequently he was under no apprehension that courtesy or kindness on his part would injure him with his master. But Roostem, on the contrary, was always grasping, always mean, and one who made self-interest and money his first consideration.240 Roostem used to have very short interviews with me, but Ali would purposely keep me for several hours, and make my visit pleasant by his great civility. Meanwhile the Turks, who had come either to call or on business, kept murmuring because they were detained so long waiting for their audience, while the Pasha was closeted with me. I confess I got very hungry at these interviews, for he used to summon me to him in the afternoon, and I did not care to eat before I went, as I wished to have my brain as clear as possible for my conference with this able statesman. In these conversations he strenuously urged, that we should each advise our own master to take the course we considered most for his interests. ‘He was well aware,’ he said, ‘that his master required nothing more urgently than repose, as his course was nearly run, and he had had his fill of military glory; on the other hand, he felt that there was no need to prove to me that peace and quiet would be likewise to my master’s interests. If he desired to consult the safety and tranquillity of his subjects, he ought not to rouse the sleeping lion, and provoke him once more to enter the lists. Just as mirrors, which are naturally empty, take the reflections of whatever objects may be placed before them, even so the minds of Sovereigns,’ he argued, ‘are blanks, which receive what may be called impressions of what is presented to them, and therefore we ought to put before our masters’ minds what would be most conducive to their advantage. Also we ought,’ said he, ‘to imitate good cooks, who do not season their dishes to suit the palate of this person or that, but consult the general taste; in like manner we, in settling the terms of peace, ought to regulate them so as to attain results which would be agreeable and honourable to both parties alike.’

He used very sensibly to repeat these and many similar arguments, and whenever an opportunity presented itself, displayed his good will towards me, and if in turn I showed him any sign of attention, he received it with marked gratitude.

About this time he met with an accident. He was returning home from the Divan, and had arrived at the turn of the road, where it was his habit to bid his colleagues farewell. There he chanced to wheel his horse round too sharply, and, while engaged in giving them a parting salute, bowed low with his whole weight on his steed’s neck. The horse, which had not yet got its foothold, being unequal to the weight, fell with its rider to the ground.

When I heard of this, I ordered my servants to visit him and inquire if he had received any harm from the accident. He was gratified by the attention, and after thanking me replied, ‘he was nowhere injured, and it was not strange if an old worn-out soldier was liable to fall.’ Then turning to the bystanders, he said, ‘I cannot tell you how much kindness that Christian always shows me.’

Sometimes he used to tell me that riches, honour, and dignities had fallen in abundance to his lot, and that now his only object in life was to show kindness to every one, and thus to hand down to posterity a grateful recollection of his name.

When we had been already engaged for some time in peace negotiations, and I was in great hopes of obtaining the result I desired, an accident occurred, which might have upset and ruined everything.

A Greek by birth, whom they honoured with the title of Despot,241 invaded Moldavia, under the protection of the Emperor’s troops who were guarding the Hungarian frontier, and occupied it, after driving out the Voivode, who was then in possession of that country. The Turks were greatly disturbed by this event, which was serious enough in itself, and might, they feared, be only the first step to further enterprises, but they deemed it wise to conceal their anxiety, and not to make bad worse by unseemly alarm. But Ali thought he ought not to let it pass without communicating with me, and ascertaining my views. I received information from one of his domestics that in the course of a few hours I should be summoned to him about this affair. I must confess I was seriously alarmed by this message. Our negotiations were well nigh completed, in fact we were like players who are about to conclude their piece, of which only the last act remains. I was in great fear that this new event would disturb everything, and carry us away again from the harbour which was just in sight. I was summoned to Ali Pasha, as I had been warned. He received me with his usual politeness, and conversed with me on various topics, especially those relating to the conclusion of peace, without showing either in his words or expression any change from his usual demeanour, till I was just preparing to go, and had risen to bid him farewell. Then, as if he had just recollected the subject of Moldavia, he told me to sit down again and said, just as one does when some trifle has come into one’s head, ‘Indeed I had almost forgotten one thing I wanted to tell you. Have you heard that your Germans have come into Moldavia?’ ‘Into Moldavia!’ said I; ‘no, indeed I have not, and what is more, it seems to me most improbable. For what could Germans have to do with so distant a country as Moldavia?’ ‘Yet it is true,’ said he, ‘and you will find it to be so.’ He then began to repeat at greater length what he had told me, and to assure me that the news which had arrived was certain. ‘To conclude,’ said he, ‘to prevent your having any doubt about it, we will catch a German and send him to you that you may find out the truth from him.’ I then took the line of saying, that in any case I felt quite certain that nothing had been done by the Emperor’s orders or authority. The Germans were a free nation, and in the habit of taking foreign service. Perhaps some of those who had served under the Emperor’s generals had after their discharge enlisted as mercenaries under some one who required such troops, and in my judgment he would not be far wrong in attributing the cause of this disturbance to the neighbouring Hungarian magnates, who, wearied of the wrongs which were heaped on them every day by the Turks, had planned to pay them back in their own coin, and if I might express what I felt, ‘I do not see,’ said I, ‘on what ground they can be blamed, if, when harassed so often and goaded on by their wrongs, they remembered they were men and ventured to retaliate. Is there anything that your soldiers have not for many years past thought they might not perpetrate in Hungary? What species of outrage or what acts of hostility are there that they have abstained from inflicting on the Emperor’s subjects? Here indeed hopes of peace are put forward, but there war in all its worst forms is to be found. I have now been detained here as a prisoner for many years, and no one at home knows for certain whether I am alive or dead. The men who have borne your insults so long deserve, in my opinion, praise, not blame, if they avail themselves of any opportunity of revenge that presents itself.’

‘Be it so,’ said Ali; ‘let them do their worst, provided they keep within the borders of Hungary itself or the adjoining districts; but that they should invade Moldavia, which is only a few days’ journey from Adrianople, that indeed is more than we can put up with.’

I replied, ‘Men accustomed to war, and more experienced in wielding arms than in law, should not be expected to make nice or fine-drawn distinctions. They seized the first opportunity that offered, and thought it was not for them to consider where or how far they had leave to go.’ Thus I left him without his being at all angry, as far as I could judge; and in fact he did not show himself on the following days a bit more hard to deal with in the peace negotiations.

While we were in the midst of this business, I received a great kindness, for so I interpret it, from the Ambassador of the most Christian King (the King of France). There were in the Sultan’s prisons at Constantinople thirteen men, most of them young, including some of noble birth, partly Germans and partly Netherlanders, who had been reduced to that state by a curious accident. They had embarked at Venice in the ship, by which pilgrims to the holy city of Jerusalem are conveyed every year to Syria with passports from the Republic of Venice. Some were making the pilgrimage from religious motives, and others were travelling for pleasure; the journey, however, was destined to be disastrous to all. They landed at a most unfortunate time, as the knights of Malta had just made a descent upon that part of the coast of Palestine, and had carried off many prisoners. The Syrians, whose parents, children, and relations had been kidnapped, finding that they had no other means of revenging themselves and recovering their friends, laid hands on the travellers who were under the protection of Venetian passports, and accused them of belonging to the pirates, saying, ‘You must either get our kinsfolk restored to us, or like them be reduced to the condition of slaves.’ They showed their passports from the Venetian government, they appealed to the treaties and engagements of the Porte. It was all of no use; might proved stronger than right, and they were carried off to Constantinople in chains. Their youth also was much against them, as it prevented even the Pashas thinking it likely that they were bon fide pilgrims, because, as a general rule, it is only the older Turks who make religious pilgrimages.

When I obtained information of these events, I left no stone unturned to deliver them from their miserable condition; but my endeavours were wholly unsuccessful. The Venetian Baily242 was appealed to, because they were under the protection of his Republic when they had fallen into misfortune. He frankly admitted their claim to his assistance, but pointed out the difficulty of his doing them any service when he had to deal with such insolent barbarians as the Turks. Meanwhile I did what I could to lighten their misfortunes. However, to my great surprise and joy they one day came to me in a body and told me they were sent home, thanks to the Ambassador of the most Christian King; through his good offices they had obtained their freedom. I was indeed delighted at this unhoped-for event, and had my warmest thanks conveyed to the Ambassador. The said Ambassador, Lavigne, being about to leave, had managed, when he was having a farewell audience of Solyman and was kissing his hand according to the established etiquette, to thrust into it a paper, in which he asked that those men, whose calamity had been caused by their undertaking a pilgrimage, should be granted their liberty as a favour to his King. Solyman complied with his request and ordered them to be instantly released.243 I provided them with means for their journey, and having put them on board ship, sent them to Venice, and thence to their own country.

This Lavigne had at first made himself troublesome to me in many ways, and, whenever he could, tried to impede my negotiations, and did his best, without any fault of mine, to prejudice the Pashas against me. He used to say I was a subject of the King of Spain, as I was born in the Netherlands, and was as much that King’s servant as the Emperor’s. He told them King Philip was informed through me of everything that went on at Constantinople; that I had suborned men for that purpose, who disclosed to me all the greatest secrets, among whom Ibrahim, the first dragoman of the Sultan, about whom I shall speak later on, played the principal part. All this had happened before peace had been made between the Kings of Spain and France; and when peace was concluded he seems to have sought an opportunity to make amends for what he had done.

Lavigne was a man of a rude and brutal frankness; he always said what was uppermost in his mind, quite regardless of the feelings of his hearer. The consequence was that Roostem himself shrank from meeting him, although other people were afraid of conversing with Roostem on account of the rudeness of his language. Lavigne would send his dragomans to demand an audience for himself; Roostem would make excuses, and tell him to communicate what he wanted through them, and spare himself the trouble, assuring him that it could be done just as well without his coming. But this used to be all in vain, for he would presently come and say such things as seldom failed to give offence to Roostem. To take an instance, he one day complained that they did not have as much regard for his master as they ought to have. ‘For what is your opinion?’ said he; ‘perhaps you think Buda, Gran, Stuhlweissenburg, and the other towns of Hungary were taken by your valour, but you are quite mistaken. It is through us you hold them. For had it not been for the quarrels and perpetual wars, which have existed between our Kings and those of Spain, you would have been so far from being able to get possession of those towns, that scarcely at Constantinople itself would you have been safe from Charles V.’ Roostem bore this no longer, but burst into a violent passion, and exclaimed, ‘Why do you talk to me of your Kings and those of Spain? Such is the power of my master that, if all your Christian princes were to unite their forces and make war on him at once, he would not care a straw for it, and would win an easy victory over them all.’ With these words he retreated to his chamber in a rage, after ordering the Ambassador to leave.

I cannot here omit what I learnt about a tribe244 which still dwells in the Crimea, which I had often heard showed traces of a German origin in their language, customs, and lastly in their face and habit of body. Hence I had long been eager to see one of that tribe, and, if possible, to procure from them something written in that language; but in this I was unsuccessful. However, at last an accident in some measure satisfied my wishes, as two men had been sent to Constantinople from those parts, to lay before the Sultan some complaints or other in the name of that tribe. My dragomans fell in with them, and recollecting my orders on the subject, they brought them to me to dinner.

One of them was about the middle height, and had an air of superior breeding—you might have taken him for a Fleming or Batavian; the other was shorter, more strongly built, and of a dark complexion, being by birth and language a Greek, but by having traded there for some time he had acquired a fair acquaintance with their tongue; while the other man had lived and associated so much with the Greeks that he had picked up their language and forgotten his own. When questioned about the nature and customs of these people he answered my inquiries in a straightforward manner. He said the tribe was warlike, and even now inhabited numerous villages, from which the chief of the Tartars raised, when expedient, 800 infantry, armed with fire-arms, the mainstay of his army. Their chief towns are called Mancup and Scivarin.

He told me also much about the Tartars and their barbarism, among whom, however, he said a good many men of remarkable ability might be found. For when asked about matters of importance they answered shortly and to the purpose. On this account the Turks, not without reason, say that all other nations have their wisdom written in books, but the Tartars have devoured their books, and so have it stored up in their breasts, and consequently are able to bring it out when needful, and talk like men inspired. They are very dirty in their habits; if any broth is served at table they require no spoons, but use instead the palm of the hand. They devour the flesh of slaughtered horses without cooking it in any way; all they do is to spread the pieces under their horses’ saddles, this warms them slightly, and they then proceed to eat the meat, as if it had been dressed after the most dainty fashion. The chief of the nation eats off a silver table. The first and also the last dish served is a horse’s head, as among us butter is honoured with the first and last place.

Now I will write down a few of the many German words, which he repeated, for the form of quite as many was totally different from ours, whether because this is due to the genius of that language, or because his memory failed him, and he substituted foreign for the native words. To all words he prefixed the article ‘tho’ or ‘the.’ The words which were the same as ours, or only a little different, were these:245

Gothic.	English.xxxxxx	Flemish.
Broe	Bread	Brood
Plut	Blood	Bloed
Stul	Stool	Stoel
Hus	House	Huys
Wingart	Vine	Wijngaert
Reghen	Rain	Regen
Bruder	Brother	Broeder
Schwester	Sister	Zuster
Alt	Old	Oud
Wintch	Wind	Wind
Silvir	Silver	Zilver
Goltz	Gold	Goud
Kor	Corn	Koren
Salt	Salt	Zout
Fisct	Fish	Visch
Hoef	Head	Hoofd
Thurn	Door	Deure
Stern	Star	Star
Sune	Sun	Zon
Mine	Moon	Maen
Tag	Day	Dag
Oeghene	Eyes	Oogen
Bars	Beard	Baert
Handa	Hand	Hand
358Boga	Bow	Bogen
Miera	Ant	Mier
Rinck or Ringo	Ring	Ring
Brunna	Spring	Bron
Waghen	Waggon	Wagen
Apel	Apple	Appel
Schieten	To shoot	Schieten
Schlipen	To sleep	Slapen
Kommen	To come	Komen
Singhen	To sing	Zingen
Lachen	To laugh	Lachen
Criten	To cry	Kryten
Geen	To go	Gaen
Breen	To roast	BraÊn
Schwalch	Death

Knauen Tag meant good day. Knauen signified good, and he used many other words which did not agree with our tongue, for example:

Iel, life or health	Stap, a goat
Ieltsch, alive or well	Gadeltha, beautiful
Iel uburt, be it well	Atochta, bad
Marzus, marriage	Wichtgata, white
Schuos, a bride	Mycha, a sword
Baar, a boy	Lista, too little
Ael, a stone	Schedit, light
Menus, flesh	Borrotsch, a wish
Rintsch, a mountain	Cadariou, a soldier
Fers, a man	Kilemschkop, drink up your cup
Statz, the earth	Tzo warthata, thou didst
Ada, an egg	Ies varthata, he did
Ano, a hen	Ich malthata, I say
Telich, foolish

Being told to count he did so thus: Ita, tua, tria, fyder, fyuf, seis, sevene, precisely as we Flemings do. For you men of Brabant, who pretend you talk German, are, on this point, in the habit of lauding yourselves to the skies, and ridiculing us on account of what you are pleased to call our abominable pronunciation of that word, which you pronounce seven. He went on thus: athe, nyne, thiine, thiinita, thunetua, thunetria. Twenty he called stega, thirty treithyen, forty furderthien, a hundred sada, a thousand hazer. He also repeated a song in that language, which began as follows,

Whether they are Goths or Saxons I cannot decide. If Saxons, I think they were transported thither in the time of Charlemagne, who dispersed that nation through various regions of the world, as the cities in Transylvania,246 which are to this day inhabited by Saxons, bear witness. And perhaps it was decided that the bravest of them should be removed yet further, as far as the Tauric Chersonese, where, though in the midst of enemies, they still retain the Christian religion. But if they are Goths, I am of opinion that even in ancient times they occupied those tracts, which adjoin the GetÆ. And perhaps one would not be wrong in thinking that the greatest part of the country which lies between the island of Gothland and what is now called Perekop was at one time inhabited by Goths.

Hence came the various clans named Visigoths and Ostrogoths; hence they started on their career of victory, all over the world; this was the vast hive of that barbarian swarm. Now you have heard what I learnt about the Tauric Chersonese from these men of Perekop.

Now listen to what I heard from a Turkish pilgrim about the city and country of Cathay (China). He belonged to the sect who hold it a religious duty to wander through distant regions, and to worship God on the highest mountains and in wild and desert places. He had traversed almost the whole of the East, where he had made acquaintance with the Portuguese; and then, excited by the desire of visiting the city and kingdom of Cathay, he had joined some merchants who were setting out thither, for they are accustomed to assemble in large numbers, and so journey in a body to the frontiers of that realm. Few reach their destination safely, as the risk is great. There are many intervening tribes who are treacherous to travellers, and whose attacks are to be feared every moment.

When they had travelled some distance from the Persian frontier, they came to the cities of Samarcand, Bokhara, and Tashkend, and to other places inhabited by Tamerlane’s successors. To these there succeeded vast deserts or tracts of country, sometimes inhabited by savage and inhospitable clans, and sometimes by tribes of a more civilised description; but everywhere the country is so poor that there is great difficulty in getting provisions. On this account every man had provided himself with food and the other necessaries of life, and great numbers of camels were loaded with these supplies. A large party of this kind is called a caravan.

After many months of toil they arrived at the passes, which may be termed the keys of the kingdom of Cathay (for a great part of the dominions of the King of Cathay is inland, and surrounded by wild mountains and precipitous rocks, nor can it be entered except by certain passes which are held by the King’s forces). At this point the merchants were asked, what they brought, where they came from, and how many of them there were? This information the King’s garrison troops transmit by smoke in the day time, and by fire at night, to the next beacon, and that in turn to the next, and so on, till news of the merchants’ arrival is forwarded to the King of Cathay, which otherwise could not be done for the space of several days. In the same manner and with equal speed he sends back word what his pleasure is, saying whether he chooses them all to be admitted, or part of them to be excluded, or their entrance delayed. If admitted, they are conducted by appointed guides by halting-places established at proper stages, where the necessaries of food and clothing are supplied at a fair price, till they reach Cathay itself. Here they first declare what each of them has brought, and then, as a mark of respect, present the King with whatever gift they think proper. In addition to receiving the gift, he has also the right of purchasing at a fair valuation whatever articles he pleases.

The rest they sell or barter as they choose, a day for their return being fixed, up to which they have the power of carrying on business, for the Cathayans do not approve of foreigners sojourning too long, for fear their national customs should be corrupted by foreign manners. They are then courteously sent back by the same stages by which they came.

The same pilgrim described that nation as very ingenious, and said they were civilised and well governed. They have a religion of their own, distinct from Christianity, Judaism, or Mahomedanism, but more like Judaism without its ceremonies. For many centuries back the art of printing has been in use among them, as is sufficiently proved by the books printed in that country. For this purpose they use paper made of silkworms’ cocoons, so thin, that it will only bear the impression of the type on one side; the other is left blank.

There are numerous shops in that city which sell the scent they call musk. It is the secretion of a beast the size of a kid.

No article of merchandise is more prized among them than a lion; this beast being uncommon in those countries is exceedingly admired, and nothing fetches a higher price.

These statements about the kingdom of Cathay I learned from the mouth of this wanderer, for which their author must be responsible. For indeed it is quite possible, that, when I was asking him about Cathay, he might have been answering me about some other neighbouring country, and according to the proverb, when I was asking for a sickle, have answered me about a spade.

When I heard this story from him, I thought it well to ask, whether he had brought from any place he had visited any rare root, or fruit, or stone. ‘Nothing at all,’ said he, ‘except that I carry about this root for my own use, and if I chew and swallow the least particle of it, when I am suffering from languor or cold, I am stimulated and get warm.’ As he spoke he gave it me to taste, warning me at the same time that it must be used very sparingly. My physician, William Quacquelben, who was at that time still alive, tasted it, and from the heat with which it inflamed his mouth, pronounced it to be true Napellus or Aconite.247

This, I think, is the proper place to tell you of the miracle wrought by another Turkish pilgrim and monk. He went about in a shirt and white mantle reaching down to the feet, and let his hair grow long, so that he resembled the apostles as they are usually depicted by our painters. Under an engaging appearance was concealed the mind of an impostor; but the Turks venerated him as a man famous for his miracles. They urged my dragomans to bring him to me that I might see him. He dined with me, behaving soberly and modestly, and then went down into the courtyard of the house, and returned soon afterwards carrying a stone of enormous weight, with which he struck himself on his bare breast several blows that had well nigh felled an ox. Then he laid his hand on an iron which had been made white hot in a fire lighted for the purpose. He put this into his mouth, and turned it about in every direction so that his saliva hissed. The iron he took into his mouth was oblong, but thicker at either end and rectangular, and so heated by the fire that it was just like a glowing coal. When he had done this, he put the iron back in the fire and departed, after bidding me farewell, and receiving a present.

My servants, who were standing around, were astonished, except one who thought himself cleverer than the rest. ‘And why,’ said he, ‘you stupid fellows, do you wonder at this? Do you believe these things are done in reality; they are mere feats of legerdemain and optical delusions?’ Without more ado he seized the iron by the part that stood a good way out of the fire, to prove it could be handled without injury. But no sooner had he closed his hand, than he drew it back, with the palm and fingers so burnt that it was several days before he was well; an accident which was followed by great laughter from his fellow-servants, who asked him, ‘Whether he now believed it was hot, or was still incredulous?’ and invited him to touch it again.

The same Turk told me at dinner, that his abbot, a man renowned for the sanctity of his life and for his miracles, was accustomed to spread his cloak on the lake which adjoined his monastery, sit down on it, and so take a pleasant sail wherever he liked.248 He also was in the habit of being tied to a sheep, which had been flayed and dressed, with his arms fastened to its fore, and his legs to its hind quarters, and being thrown in this condition into a heated oven, where he stayed till he gave orders for himself and the sheep to be taken out, when it was well roasted and fit to eat, and he none the worse.249

I don’t believe it, you will say; for the matter of that, neither do I! I only tell you what I heard; but as to the white hot iron, I saw it with my own eyes. Yet this feat is not so astonishing after all, as no doubt while he pretended to be looking for a stone in the court yard, he fortified his mouth against the fierceness of the fire by some medicament, such as you know have been discovered.250 For I remember seeing a mountebank in the Piazza at Venice handle molten lead, and as it were wash his hands in it without injury.

I mentioned already that a few days before Roostem’s death the severity of my prison rules was relaxed. This was exceedingly agreeable to me, on account of the liberty of access to me which was thus granted to men of foreign and distant nations, from whom I received much information that amused me; but this pleasure was counterbalanced by an equal inconvenience, because my servants abused the privilege given them of going abroad, and often wandered about the city unescorted by Janissaries. The consequences were quarrels and disturbances with the Turks, which gave me a great deal of trouble; and, out of the many that happened, I will relate one as a specimen, from which you can imagine the others, that you may know everything about us.

Two of my servants crossed over to Pera without Janissaries, either because they were all out, or because they did not think they required their escort. One of them was my apothecary and the other my butler. Having finished their business in Pera, they hired a boat to return to Constantinople; but scarcely had they taken their seats in it, when there came a boy from the judge, or cadi, of that place, who ordered them to get out, and give up the boat to his master. My servants refused, and pointed out there were boats enough about for the cadi to cross in, and told him this one had already been engaged by them. However, he persevered, and tried to get them out by force. My men resisted, and that right stoutly, so that they soon came to blows. As all this was going on before the eyes of the judge, who was approaching, he could not restrain himself from running down to help the boy, who was a great favourite with him for reasons that need not be explained. But while he was carelessly rushing down the steps leading to the sea, which were slippery with ice (for it was winter), he missed his footing and would have tumbled into the sea—his feet were already wet with the water—had not his companions assisted him. The Turks gathered from all Pera, and an outcry was raised that Christians had laid violent hands on the judge, and all but drowned him in the sea. They seized my servants, and with great tumult dragged them before the voivode, or judge who tries capital charges. The sticks were got ready and their feet were inserted in the posts, for the purpose of administering the bastinado. One of my men, who was an Italian, being in a furious passion, never stopped shouting the whole time ‘Vour, chiopecklar, vour. Strike us, you dogs, strike us! ‘Tis we who have been wronged, and we have deserved no punishment. We are servants of the Emperor’s Ambassador. You will be punished by your Sultan when he knows of this.’ All this, in spite of his speaking in broken Turkish, his hearers could quite understand. One of the Turks among the rioters was amazed at his boldness and exclaimed, ‘Do you think this one-eyed fellow a human being?’ (for he had lost one eye), ‘believe me, he is no such thing, but belongs to the race of oneeyed Genies.’ The voivode however, who was himself struck by such courage, that he might not do more or less than was right, decided on sending them to Roostem unhurt. They went to him, accompanied by a great crowd of false witnesses, who had been procured to crush by their evidence those innocent men. The Turks think it an act of great piety to bear witness against a Christian; they do not wait to be asked but come unbidden, and obtrude themselves of their own accord, as happened on this occasion. Therefore they all exclaimed with one voice, ‘These robbers have dared to commit a most atrocious crime, and have knocked the judge down with their fists, and if they had not been stopped, they would have thrown him into the sea.’ My men denied these charges, and said they were accused unjustly, and then declared they were my servants. Roostem soon perceived that it was a case of false accusation; but to divert the anger of the excited multitude, he assumed a stern expression, and saying that he would punish them himself, ordered them to be taken to prison. The prison served as a fortress to my servants against the violence of the raging mob. Roostem then heard the evidence of those whom he considered worthy of credit, and found my servants were innocent, and that it was the judge that was to blame.

Through my dragomans I demanded the surrender of my servants. Roostem thought the matter important enough to be laid before the Council, saying he was afraid, that, if the Sultan should hear of it, he would suspect it was through the influence of money that the wrong the judge had sustained had been passed over. Already there existed some intimacy between me and Ali Pasha; and I expostulated with him in strong terms, through the same dragomans, and demanded that an end should be put to the persecution of my servants. Ali undertook the case and told me to set my mind at ease, as this trouble would soon be at an end. Roostem, however, was still shilly-shallying; he was always afraid to do me a kindness for fear of being suspected of receiving a bribe; on that account he would have preferred having the business settled on such terms, that the judge should be left no cause for complaint. He sent me word that it seemed to him to be the wisest plan to appease the judge by giving him some pieces of gold as a sop, and that five and twenty ducats would be enough for the purpose. I replied that I was obliged to him for his advice. If he told me, as a personal favour to himself, to throw fifty ducats into the sea, I would do so at once; but here it was not a question of money but of precedent, that was at stake. For if it were laid down as a rule, that whoever had injured my men, should, instead of being punished, be actually paid for doing so, I should soon come to the end of my purse. Whenever anyone’s dress began to get worn or torn, he would resolve to do my servants some harm, inasmuch as he would feel sure of getting paid for his trouble, and thus obtaining a new dress at my expense. Nothing could be more disgraceful than this or more injurious to my interests. Accordingly my servants were sent back, thanks, in a great measure, to the advocacy of Ali Pasha. But when the Venetian Baily251 heard of it he sent for one of my dragomans, and begged him to tell him how much I had paid to settle the affair. ‘Not a penny,’ he replied. Then the Baily said, ‘If we had been concerned, I warrant you we should hardly have got out of it for 200 ducats.’ The man whom it cost most dear was this model of a judge, who was removed from office, because, according to their notion, a man is disgraced who has received a thrashing from a Christian, and this, by his own admission, had been the case with him.

You ask for news about the Spanish generals, telling me that there is a report in your neighbourhood that they owe their liberty to me. They were the following, viz., de SandÉ, the commander of the land forces, and Leyva and Requesens, the admirals of the Neapolitan and Sicilian fleets. I will give you a short account of how I managed it.

The Turks were much annoyed at the conclusion of peace between the Kings of Spain and France, which was by no means favourable to their interests;252 especially as they found the treaty was not such as they had believed it to be at first, for they had been convinced that they would have been high in the list of those entitled to enjoy the benefits of the same peace. Accordingly, when they found themselves passed over, thinking that a bad return had been made them, though they dissembled their vexation, they sought an opportunity to give some hint that their feelings were no longer so friendly as they had been. Solyman had written to the King of France to say he approved of the peace, but at the same time desired the King to remember that old friends do not easily become foes, or old foes friends.

The offence the Turks felt on these grounds was not a little favourable to my negotiations, and I was aided in addition by Ali Pasha’s kindly feeling towards me, and Ibrahim’s great desire of proving his gratitude.

You remember I mentioned previously that when Lavigne was calumniating me, he at the same time used to accuse Ibrahim, implying that he betrayed to me all the designs of the Turks.

This Ibrahim, the Sultan’s first dragoman (the Turkish word for interpreter), was a Pole by birth; he was hated by Lavigne, because he thought that Ibrahim, in a deadly quarrel between himself and de Codignac, his predecessor in the embassy, had taken de Codignac’s part too strongly. I need not trouble you with the whole story, as it has not much to do with our subject. Lavigne, recollecting this, was always Ibrahim’s bitter enemy; and whenever he had an opportunity of addressing the Pashas, every other word he spoke was abuse of Ibrahim. At last he got him degraded from office and reduced to a private position.

This concerned me but little, as there had never been any friendship between Ibrahim and myself, but on the contrary a somewhat hostile feeling, as I had often found him on the side against us. I was sorry however that the story should get abroad that it was for my sake he had been removed from office. While Ibrahim was living in this condition, deeply humiliated by the loss of his post, as indeed is usually the case with men who have ceased to be what they were, I tried to lighten his misfortunes by any attentions in my power, and on several occasions, when there was a press of business in the course of the peace negotiations, I employed him as an extra dragoman, and made him a medium of communication with the Pashas. This was readily allowed by Ali from his good feeling towards me, and because he was well aware that Ibrahim had been wrongfully degraded. At last I effected his restoration to his former position and dignity. From these circumstances he became much attached to me, so that his great desire was to find some means of proving his gratitude for my services. Most loyally did he plead my cause in every question; and did his best to obtain for me the favour of all whom he could influence. This was an easier task for him from their disgust at the recent peace, on account of which, as I said, the Turks were secretly angry with the French, so that, when a gentleman named Salviati came to Constantinople to obtain de SandÉ’s freedom in the name of the King of France, his errand was a complete failure. De SandÉ had for some time been eagerly looking forward to this embassy, hoping thereby to procure his liberty, and, feeling certain that this was the only chance of recovering his freedom, had gone to great expense in providing presents to do honour to the Pashas and the Sultan himself, according to the usual custom. And now, to make a long story short, all was over, Salviati had taken his departure, and his embassy had proved a failure.

The servants whom de SandÉ had employed as his agents, terrified by this, came to me, and confessed they did not venture to inform him of such a disappointment; he had entirely depended on his hopes from this mission, and now they were afraid he would become desperate, and not only lose his health, but also his life; they therefore asked me to give them my assistance and to write to him myself.

I was inclined to refuse, as I had neither arguments nor language to console a man who had received such a cruel blow. De SandÉ was a man of great spirit and exceedingly sanguine temperament, and did not know what fear was. But when men, whose temper inclines them to hope that everything they wish will come about, find everything taking an adverse turn and going against their wishes, there is generally a great reaction, and their spirits become so depressed that it is no easy matter to raise them to a proper level.

While our business was at a standstill from this difficulty, the dragoman Ibrahim most fortunately called on me, and when in the course of conversation mention was made of the Spanish prisoners, he told me in so many words, that, if I were to request their release, it would not be refused. He knew what he was saying and had it on good authority.

He had indeed been previously in the habit of throwing out rather obscure hints, calculated to make me hope they might be liberated if I were to intercede; but I did not take much heed of what he said, for how could I venture to make such an attempt when I was not yet sure of peace? I was also restrained by the fear that I should do no good myself, if I interfered at an unfavourable moment, and might perhaps also hinder Salviati’s negotiations. But when, after his departure, I heard Ibrahim, who was closely attached to me, make such a declaration, there seemed to be something in it, and I began to pay more attention to his words, cautioning him, however, at the same time not to place me in a false position, and expose his friend to ridicule. This would certainly be my fate if I were to undertake unsuccessfully a task which was generally supposed to be hopeless, and in which there had already been an adverse decision. He persevered notwithstanding, and told me that I might rely on what he said; and that he would absolutely guarantee my success.

Relying on his assurances I wrote to de SandÉ, and informed him of the result of Salviati’s negotiations, but told him not to despair, for, unless all Turks were liars, there was hope in store for him, and then I related what I had heard from Ibrahim. Having taken this step, I next consulted certain friends of mine who had great experience in Turkish affairs. They replied that they wished me success in my undertaking, but they did not see how I could obtain what had just been denied to the Ambassador of a King who was an old friend, especially while the result of our negotiations for peace was still doubtful; and they pointed out that all precedents showed how difficult it was to prevail on the Turks to liberate important prisoners. However, I wrote to the Emperor, and acquainted him with the hopes that had been held out to me, at the same time earnestly entreating him to ask Solyman to release the prisoners.

To make a long story short, after large presents had been promised the Pashas, if they should show themselves gracious and favourable to their liberation, on the eve of St. Laurence’s day (August 9), they were all taken out of prison and conducted to my lodging.

De SandÉ and Leyva hated each other worse than if they had been brothers! for which reason it was necessary to have a table laid separately for the latter, with whom Requesens dined. De SandÉ sat at the same table with myself. At dinner there came in a steward from the chargÉ d’affaires of the King of France, bringing me some notes which had come into his hands. De SandÉ asked him if he knew him. ‘I think,’ said he, ‘you are Don Alvaro.’ ‘I am indeed,’ said he, ‘and you will convey my best compliments to your master, and tell him how you saw me here a free man, thanks to the Ambassador before you.’ ‘I see it indeed,’ he replied, ‘but yet I can hardly believe my own eyes.’ This was done by de SandÉ because the chargÉ d’affaires, though in other respects an excellent fellow, was one of the persons who could not be convinced that Solyman would liberate the prisoners as a favour to the Emperor Ferdinand.253

But before they were released from prison, the Mufti, the head of the Turkish religion, was consulted on the question, if it were lawful to exchange a few Christians for a larger number of captive Turks? for I had promised that not fewer than forty Turkish prisoners, who, however, might be common people of no rank, should be given in exchange. The Mufti replied that there were two authorities on the point, and that they held different opinions, one approving of the exchange and the other not. The Pashas, however, adopted the more liberal opinion.254

I have still to tell you of Bajazet’s final catastrophe, for I know you are expecting to hear the rest of his story. You will remember that he was thrown into prison by Shah Tahmasp. From that time many messengers went backwards and forwards from the King of Persia to the Sultan, some of whom held the title of Ambassador, bringing presents of the usual kind, such as tents of exquisite workmanship, Assyrian and Persian carpets, and a Koran, the book which contains their holy mysteries;255 amongst other gifts, rare animals were sometimes sent, for example there was an Indian ant,256 as large as a fair-sized dog, and extremely fierce and snappish, which, I remember, they were said to have brought.

The ostensible reason for their arrival was to reconcile Bajazet and his father; great honours were paid them, and they were entertained magnificently by the Pashas. Ali made me a partaker in one of these banquets by sending me eight large porcelain dishes of sweetmeats. The Romans used to send something from their table to their friends, a custom which the Spaniards retain to this day. The Turks, on the other hand, carry off dainties from the banquet for themselves, but generally only intimate friends do so, who have wives and children at home. They usually carried home from my table handkerchiefs full of fragments of eatables, and were not afraid of soiling their silk robes with drops of gravy, although they consider cleanliness of the highest importance. When I mention this, it recalls to my memory an amusing incident, which I shall not be sorry to tell you. You will have a hearty laugh over it, I am sure, as I had myself; and is not laughter worth cultivating? Is it not man’s peculiar attribute, and the best recipe in the world for tempering human misfortunes? Besides, we are no Catos.

The Pashas observe the custom of giving dinner for a few days before their fast, which answers to our Lent, to all who choose to come, and no one is excluded. However, the people who come are generally neighbours, friends, or recognised dependants. A leather tablecloth, which is loaded with a crowd of dishes, is laid on the ground over an oblong mat. Such a table will hold a large company. The Pasha himself sits in the chief place, and about him those of higher rank, and then in a long row the guests who belong to inferior families, till no more room remains for anyone, and many are left standing, for the table cannot hold all at once. However, as they eat with great moderation and do not talk, it is not long before the first party have appeased their hunger, they then conclude their meal with a draught of water sweetened with honey or sugar, and, after bidding the master of the feast farewell, make room for others who have not yet sat down; these again are succeeded by another set, till in a short space many are satisfied off the same table, the attendants in the meantime washing the plates and dishes, and supplying fresh ones as fast as they are emptied.

A Pasha who was giving one of these entertainments at his house had invited a Sanjak-bey, who happened to have come there, to sit by him. The second place from him was occupied by an old man of the class the Turks call Khodjas, which means Scholars. As he saw before him a great mass of various eatables, and wished, having had his fill, to take something away for his wife, he began looking for his handkerchief to put it in; but found he had left it at home. He was, however, equal to the emergency, and like a good general was able to extemporise a plan on the field of battle. He seized the bag of a turban which was hanging down behind him257 (which, however, was not his own as he thought, but the Sanjak-bey’s). This he crammed as full as he could, finishing with a good slice of bread by way of a stopper to prevent anything slipping out. When he was bidding his host farewell, in accordance with the Turkish fashion, he had to salute his superiors by placing his hands on his breast or thighs. Having paid his respects he gathered up the bag again, but this time took his own, and when he left the dining-room, he felt it carefully all over and, to his utter amazement, found it empty. But what was he to do? He went home in disgust.

Not long afterwards the Sanjak-bey also rose, and after saluting the Pasha was going away, in happy ignorance of the load that was hanging behind him. But soon the bag began to deliver itself of its contents; every step the Sanjak-bey took, something fell out, and his progress was marked by a long line of fragments. Every one began to laugh; he then looked back, and his face grew crimson, when he saw his bag disgorging pieces of food.

Then the Pasha, who had guessed the truth, called him back, told him to sit down, and ordered the Khodja to be summoned; and turning to him said, ‘As you are a neighbour and old friend of mine, and have a wife and children at home, I wonder why you did not carry away something for them from my table, where there was enough and to spare.’ The Khodja replied, ‘This happened, sir, from no fault of mine, but from the anger of my guardian angel. For, as I had carelessly left my handkerchief at home, I stuffed the remains of my dinner into the bag of my turban, but lo and behold, when I left the dining room, it proved to be empty, but how this came to pass is more than I can tell.’ So the Sanjak-bey’s character as a gentleman was re-established, and the disappointment of the old Khodja, and the oddness of the accident, furnished the bystanders with food for another merry laugh.

But I will return to my subject. Bajazet’s hopes were at a low ebb, for his merciless father was demanding that he should be given up alive for execution; to this the King of Persia refused to agree and pretended to act as his protector, while all the time he intended to betray him.

Solyman at one time tried persuasion on the Shah, reminding him of the treaty, by which he had agreed they should both have the same friends and enemies, and at another, endeavoured to frighten him with menacing language and threatened him with war, if Bajazet were not surrendered. He had placed strong garrisons in all his towns on the Persian frontier, and filled Mesopotamia and the bank of the Euphrates with soldiers, who were taken for the most part from the Imperial guard, and the troops he had employed against Bajazet. These forces were commanded by Mehemet Pasha, the third of the Vizierial Pashas, and the Beyler bey of Greece, for Selim had soon returned home. He also sent frequent messages to the tribes they call Georgians, who dwell between the Caspian and the Black Sea, and border on Media, urging them to take up arms against the King of Persia. They sagaciously replied that ‘they had not sufficient confidence in their own strength to venture to attack Shah Tahmasp by themselves; let Solyman only come with his army and they would know, when they saw him on the spot, what they ought to do. In that case they would be wanting neither in counsel nor in courage.’

In another direction are still to be found five Turkoman chiefs descended from Tamerlane; and these also were invited to join their arms against the common foe.

Solyman wished it to be believed that he himself was going to Aleppo, a city of Syria on the banks of the Euphrates,258 and that he intended from that base to make war on the King of Persia. Nor was the latter free from apprehension, as he had too often experienced the might of Solyman’s arm. But the angry Sultan was completely checked by the opposition of the soldiers and the reluctance they felt to engaging in such a war. They shrank from an unnatural contest, and began to desert. A great number of them, especially of the cavalry, returned to Constantinople, without orders from their commanders, and when bidden to return to the camp without delay, though they obeyed, they did so in such a way as to leave it evident how little they could be relied on, if any accident or change should occur.

For this reason, when it became sufficiently clear to Solyman that the King of Persia would not surrender Bajazet, pleading that he was afraid of delivering him up alive, lest by any chance he should escape, and live to take vengeance for the wrongs he had received, he decided, as the next best course, to get him executed in Persia. He had great hopes of prevailing thus far on the Shah; for in the last letter he had received from that monarch, the latter had expressed his surprise at his careless method of managing such an important affair; observing that he had several times sent ambassadors to him, but he, on the contrary, had sent him nothing but letters and messengers, conduct, which made him doubt if he were really in earnest. ‘Let him,’ said the Shah, ‘send noblemen of high authority and name, with whom the negotiations might be carried on and concluded in a way that befitted their importance. The Sultan was much in his debt; Bajazet’s coming had been a great injury to him, and he had incurred great expense before he had got him into his power. It was just that these circumstances should be taken into account.’

Solyman saw that money was his object, and so, rather than involve himself in an unnecessary war, for which he was unfitted by his years, he determined to follow the Pashas’ advice, and to fight the King of Persia with money, instead of arms.

Hassan Aga, one of the chiefs of the eunuchs of the bed-chamber, was first selected as ambassador to Persia, and the Pasha of Marasch, a man of venerable years, was ordered to accompany him. About the middle of winter they started with the fullest powers; they travelled, in spite of the difficulties of the road, with the utmost speed, and at last, after losing many of their suite, arrived at Casbin, where the King of Persia was.

They first asked leave to see Bajazet, and found him so disfigured by the dirt and filth of his prison, and with his hair and beard so long that they could not recognise him. They were obliged to have him shaved, and it was only then that Hassan was able to identify the features of the prince. He had been brought up with him from his earliest years, and it was especially for that reason that Solyman had committed this office to him.

It was agreed that the King of Persia should be indemnified for the loss he said he had sustained, and should receive in addition a present commensurate with the importance of the business, and that then Solyman should be allowed to put Bajazet to death.

Hassan hurried back and told his master of the arrangement he had concluded. The present was prepared, along with the sums demanded as expenses, and was conveyed, under the protection of a Turkish guard, to the frontiers of the Persian dominions. Hassan, too, came again as the unfortunate Bajazet’s appointed executioner, for Solyman had specially ordered that he should put him to death with his own hands. Accordingly the bow-string was put round Bajazet’s neck, and he was strangled to death. He is said to have asked one boon before his death, namely, to be allowed to see his children and share his kisses among them as a last token of affection; but this he asked in vain, being told ‘There was other business which required his immediate attention.’259

Such was the end of Bajazet’s ill-starred designs, whose ruin was precipitated by the very efforts he made to avoid it. His four sons shared their father’s fate.

I mentioned that one, who had been lately born, had been left at Amasia when his father fled, and that he had been removed by his grandfather to Broussa, where he was being brought up; but, when the Sultan knew it was all over with Bajazet, he sent a eunuch, whom he trusted, to Broussa to kill him. As the eunuch’s own disposition was too tender, he took with him one of the doorkeepers, a hard-hearted ruffian who was capable of any atrocity, to be the child’s murderer. When the doorkeeper entered the room, and was fitting the cord to the child’s neck, it smiled at him, and, raising itself as much as it could, threw up its little arms to give him a hug and a kiss. This so moved the cruel fellow that he could not bear it, and fell down in a swoon. The eunuch, who was waiting outside, wondered that he was so long, and at last going in himself, found the doorkeeper lying senseless on the ground. He could not afford to let his mission be a failure, and so with his own hands he stopped for ever the feeble breath of that innocent child.

From this it was clear enough that the grandson had been spared till then, not from the mercy of his grandfather, but from the Turkish superstition of referring all successful enterprises, whatever may have been the motive from which they were undertaken, to the instigation of God. On this account, as long as the issue of Bajazet’s attempts remained doubtful, Solyman determined to do no violence to the child, for fear that if afterwards Bajazet’s fortunes should take a turn for the better, he should be found to have been striving against the will of God. But now that he had perished, and thus had, as it were, been condemned by the sentence of God, he thought there was no reason for sparing Bajazet’s son any longer, that according to the proverb, not an egg of that mischievous crow might be left.

I once had a long argument with my cavasse on this subject, when I was in the islands I told you about. As I was returning from one of my more distant excursions, it happened that I could not double a projecting point, the wind being contrary. After striving for some time in vain, we were obliged to disembark and dine there, for in case of such an accident I used always to take about with us in the boat some cooked provisions. Several Turks, who had been forced to land there from the same cause, followed my example. My table was laid in a green meadow. The cavasse and dragomans sat down along with me. Bajazet happening to be mentioned, the cavasse began to inveigh against him without mercy for taking up arms against his brother. I on the other hand said, I thought he was to be pitied, because he had no choice except to take up arms or submit to certain death. But when the cavasse went on abusing him in as strong terms as before, I said, ‘You are making out Bajazet guilty of a monstrous atrocity, but you do not charge Selim, the father of the present Sultan, with any crime, though he took up arms not merely to resist his father’s will, but against his very person.’260 ‘And with good reason,’ replied the cavasse, ‘for the issue of his enterprise showed clearly enough that he did what he did by prompting from above, and that it had been predestinated by Heaven.’ I answered, ‘On this principle you will interpret whatever has been undertaken, although from the most wicked motives, if it proves successful, to be done rightly, and will ascribe it to God’s will; and will thus make out God to be the author of evil, nor will you reckon anything to have been done well or the contrary, except by the result.’

We continued our argument for some time, each of us defending his position with great spirit and in a high tone of voice. Many texts of Scripture were cited on either side, ‘Can the vessel say to the potter, why hast thou formed me thus?’ ‘I will harden Pharaoh’s heart,’ ‘Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated,’ and others, as they came into our heads.

The Turks, who were a little way off, wondered what we were arguing about; so, after we had risen and the table had been removed, the cavasse went straight to his countrymen. They all came round him, and he appeared to be haranguing them, while they listened with the utmost attention. Then, as it was just noon, they kept silence and worshipped God after their manner with foreheads bowed to the ground. The time seemed long to me till the cavasse came back, as I was anxious to know what had been the subject of his earnest conversation with his countrymen. I felt a little afraid that he had repeated something I had said, and given it an unfavourable turn, although I had had sufficient proofs of his honesty.

At last, when the wind had gone down, and it was time to embark, we went on board again, and set out once more. Then the first thing I did was to ask the cavasse what he had been talking about so earnestly with his countrymen. He replied with a smile, ‘I will honestly confess to you what it was. They wanted to know from me what the subject was, on which we had been arguing so hotly. I said, “Predestination,” and repeated to them the texts, both those which you had cited on your side and those which you had recognised when quoted by me. Hence I argued that it was certain you had read our books, and were well acquainted with Holy Scripture, and that you wanted nothing to secure eternal happiness, except being initiated into our religion. Accordingly we exhorted each other to pray that God would bring you to the true faith; and these were the prayers you saw us making.’

When the news of Bajazet’s death was brought to Constantinople, I was seized with great alarm for the issue of our negotiations. We were indeed in a good position and there seemed to be a prospect of the end we desired; but our anxiety was renewed by Bajazet’s misfortune, for fear the Turks should become more haughty, undo what had been done, and call on us to accept less favourable terms. We had successfully got past numerous rocks, among them the defeat at DjerbÉ, Bajazet’s imprisonment, and the unlucky accident of the expulsion of the Voivode from Moldavia, yet two formidable ones remained, namely, Bajazet’s death, of which I have spoken, and another besides, of which I shall speak presently.

Ali had been the first to communicate the news to me, by a domestic slave, in these words, ‘Know for certain that Bajazet is dead. You cannot now go on trifling with us any longer in reliance on his making a diversion in your favour. Remember that an old friendship can be restored between two princes who share the same faith more easily than a new one can be cemented between two Sovereigns of different religions. Take my word for it, it is not safe for you to go on shuffling any longer and raising unreal difficulties.’

Such a message made a deep impression on my mind. But, as the news came from a suspicious quarter, I sent round to my friends to enquire if any certain intelligence of Bajazet’s death had arrived, and all to a man replied, that there remained no doubt about it. I then understood I must shorten sail. There was no possibility of aspiring to better terms; I ought to be contented if I could maintain the position I had gained, and if no change for the worse should be made in the conditions. They had now been before the Sultan for some time, and he had not been averse to them, subject to a few additions or omissions, among which however there were some things I was sorry to lose. Certain points were expressed too obscurely, so as to leave room for controversy hereafter, if any one were to place an unfair construction on them. I used my utmost efforts to get these either removed or altered to our advantage. The conditions had been once or twice sent to my Emperor for his perusal, and he had graciously approved of them; but I felt dissatisfied myself, and was always wishing to obtain some further concession, when, in the midst of my negotiations, the news I mentioned came upon me like a thunderbolt.

But previously also a serious difficulty had arisen in consequence of the revolt of certain Hungarian nobles from the Voivode of Transylvania to the Emperor, or, to speak correctly, in consequence of their return from error to the path of duty. They brought over with them the forts and castles which they held.261

This startling event was calculated to upset all the steps towards peace that had been taken. For the Turks were thus supplied with a plausible argument: ‘No change ought to have been made while negotiations about the terms of peace were going on. If you are really anxious for peace you ought to restore the advantage which you have unfairly gained. The deserters are at liberty to do as they please, but let the places they hold remain in the hands of the Voivode, our dependant and vassal.’

However, not only was no such claim asserted by Ali, but when I expressly put down in the articles of peace that these matters should remain as they were, he willingly approved of their ratification.

But the ambassadors, who had then recently arrived from the Voivode, did their utmost to chafe that sore, and filled the court with their outcries, exclaiming that their unfortunate young master was being betrayed, the rights of friendship profaned, and enemies preferred to old friends. These remonstrances had indeed some effect upon the other Pashas, but not on Ali. So at last it was agreed to adhere to the terms of peace, as they had been already settled.

Although there could be no doubt about the wishes of my master, yet, as I remembered that among the attendants of princes there never is any lack of people ready to blacken the good deeds of others, however worthy they may be, especially if they are foreigners, I decided that everything, as far as it could be managed, should be left as open as possible for his decision. Therefore I negotiated with Ali in such a way as to point out that, although the proposed conditions did not altogether answer my Sovereign’s expectations, yet I was confident he would agree to them, provided that some one was sent with me who could explain the points that were obscure, or which might in any way be made a subject of dispute, saying that Ibrahim seemed the best person for the service, as he could report to them the Emperor’s desire for peace. He readily agreed to this proposal, so the last touch was thus put to these protracted peace negotiations.

It is the custom for the Pashas to invite to their table in the Divan an ambassador who is in favour when he leaves. But as I wished to make it appear that everything remained undecided and uncertain till a reply was brought back from my master, this honour was not paid me, the want of which however did not trouble my peace of mind.262

I was anxious to take with me some well-bred horses, and therefore had charged my servants to go about the market frequently on the chance of being able to find any to suit. When Ali heard of this, he had a capital thorough-bred of his own brought out as if for sale. My men hurried up to bid for him, 120 ducats was named as the price, and they offered eighty, without knowing who was the owner. The people who had charge of the horse refused to let him go for such a low price. But a day or two afterwards, the same horse, with two others every bit as good, was sent as a present by Ali Pasha, one of them being a beautifully shaped palfrey. When I thanked him for his present, he asked me if I did not think the horse, which my men had wanted to buy in the market for eighty ducats, was not worth more. I replied, ‘Much more, but they had a commission from me not to go beyond that price, that I might not incur too great a loss, if they should, without knowing it, purchase some likely looking animal, which should afterwards prove unsound. Such things do sometimes happen in the horse-market.’ He then told me how Turkish horses are fed at the beginning of a journey, namely, with a very small allowance of food, and advised me to travel by very short stages, till the horses had got accustomed to the work, and to divide the journey to Adrianople into nine or ten days, which usually took only five. He presented me also with an exceedingly elegant robe interwoven with gold thread, and a casket full of the finest theriac of Alexandria,263 and lastly added a glass bottle of balsam, which he highly commended, saying, ‘The other presents he had given me he did not think much of, as money could buy them, but this was a rare gift and his master could give no greater present to a friendly or allied prince. He had been governor of Egypt for some years, and thus had an opportunity of procuring it.’ The plant produces two sorts of juice; there is the cheap black extract made from the oil of the boiled leaves, while the other kind flows from an incision in the bark. This last, which is yellow and is the true balsam, was the one he gave me.264

He wished some things sent him in return, namely, a coat of mail large enough to fit him, as he is very tall and stout, and a powerful horse, to which he could trust himself without being afraid of a fall, for being a heavy man he has great difficulty in finding a horse equal to his weight, and lastly a piece of curled maple or some other wood similarly marked, with which our countrymen veneer tables.

No presents were given me by Solyman, except the ordinary ones of the kind usually given to every ambassador on taking leave, such as I had generally received in former years.

At my farewell audience he curtly inveighed against the insolence of the Heydons and the soldiers of the garrison of Szigeth. ‘What use,’ said he, ‘has it been for us to make peace here, if the garrison of Szigeth will break it and continue the war?’ I replied, ‘I would lay the matter before the Emperor, and I hoped he would do what was needful.’

Thus auspiciously, towards the end of the month of August, I commenced my wished-for journey, bringing with me as the fruit of eight years’ exertions a truce for eight years, which however it will be easy to get extended for as long as we wish, unless some remarkable change should occur.

When we arrived at Sophia, from which there is a road not only to Belgrade but to Ragusa, whence it is only a few days’ passage to Venice, Leyva and Requesens asked my leave to go by Ragusa, which was their shortest way to Italy, for the purpose of discharging at the earliest possible date their obligations to the Pashas, and paying off the debts they had incurred at Constantinople for various purposes. They said they would give me letters to the Emperor to thank him for the recovery of their freedom, which they would have preferred to do in person, if they had not been hindered by the considerations I have mentioned. I complied with their wishes without hesitation, and the death of Requesens, which happened soon after, gave me less cause to regret having done so, for before he reached Ragusa he died, being a very old man. I am glad I granted him the favour, as a refusal might have been thought to have been partly the cause of his illness.

De SandÉ and I accomplished the rest of the journey very merrily, without meeting with any serious inconvenience. De SandÉ was a pleasant fellow, and always making jokes, being quite capable, when it was necessary, of concealing his anxiety and assuming a cheerfulness he did not feel. The daily occurrences of our journey furnished us with many a merry jest. Sometimes we had a fancy to leave our carriages, and try which of us could walk the longest. In this, as I was thin and had no load of corpulence to carry, I easily beat my friend, who was stout and too fat for walking, not to mention that the effects of his confinement still made him incapable of much exertion. Whenever our road lay through a village, it was amusing to see Ibrahim, who followed us very gravely on horseback with his Turks, riding up and entreating us by all we held most dear to get into our carriages again, and not to disgrace ourselves utterly by allowing the villagers to see us travelling on foot, for among the Turks this is considered a great dishonour. With these words he sometimes prevailed on us to re-enter our carriages, and sometimes we laughed at him and disobeyed.

Now listen to one of de SandÉ’s many witty sayings. When we left Constantinople, not only was the heat still overpowering, but I was in a languid state from the late hot weather, so that I had hardly any appetite for food, or at any rate, was satisfied with very little. But de SandÉ, being a strong man and accustomed to a great deal of food, of which he always partook with me, used to devour rather than eat his meals, exhorting me from time to time to follow his example, and eat like a man. In this however he was unsuccessful, until, about the beginning of October, we were approaching the borders of Austria. There, partly from the nature of the country, and partly from the time of year, I was refreshed by the cooler climate, and began to be better in health and also to eat more freely than before. When this was observed by de SandÉ, he exclaimed, ‘He was amply rewarded for his trouble, the pains and training he had spent on me had not been thrown away, inasmuch as, thanks to his teaching and instruction, I had learnt at last how to eat, though I had lived so many years without acquiring any knowledge of, or practice in, this most needful art. Let me consider him as much in my debt as I pleased for delivering him from a Turkish prison; I was no less indebted to him, as it was from him I had learnt how to eat!’

Amusing ourselves in this manner we arrived at Tolna, where we came in for a certain amount of annoyance. De SandÉ used to stay under the same roof with me, where my quarters consisted of several rooms; but where there was only one he used to lodge at an adjoining house, that he might not inconvenience me. Accordingly at Tolna he ordered the Janissary, whom I took with me from Constantinople to Buda as my attendant, to look out for quarters for him. One of my servants and a Spanish doctor of medicine, who had been ransomed at de SandÉ’s expense at Constantinople, accompanied the Janissary. They happened to go into a house near us, which belonged to a Janissary who had been entrusted with the charge of the town. For it is the custom of the Turks, in order to protect the Christians from the outrages of travellers, to appoint in each of the wealthier villages or small towns one or two Janissaries,265 who take advantage of the position in which they are thus placed, and turn it to their own profit in many ways. This Janissary had committed some fault for which he had deserved to lose his office; and the fear of such a punishment hanging over his head had made him crusty, and completely soured his temper. Our people inspected his house without opposition, went all over it, and began to retreat, as they did not like it. My Janissary was going first, the servant was following, and the doctor was last. Meanwhile, the Janissary who lived there, and who was then in his garden, was told that Christians were looking for a lodging in his house. Mad with rage he hurried up with a stick that might have served Hercules for a club, and without a word brought it down with all his might on the doctor’s shoulders, who flew out of the house for fear of a repetition of the blow. My servant looked back, and saw behind him the Janissary on the point of giving him a similar greeting, his stick being already raised for the blow; but this servant of mine, who was carrying a small hatchet in his hand, as people generally do in that country, seized the blade of it with one hand, and the end of the handle with the other, and holding it cross-wise over his head parried several blows without injury. As the other, however, did not stop striking, the handle of the hatchet began to give way, so my servant was obliged to alter his tactics, and closing with the Janissary aimed a blow at his head, but the latter did not like this change in the mode of fighting, and forthwith took to his heels. As my servant could not reach him, he flung the hatchet at his back as he ran away. The Janissary was wounded by the blow and fell; and so our people escaped.

In the meantime the doctor was rousing the neighbourhood with his cries, exclaiming that it was all over with him, he was as good as dead, and all his bones were broken.

De SandÉ, when he heard the story, was both vexed and amused. He was unaffected by the doctor’s exclamations, thinking he was more frightened than hurt. But he was tormented by a terrible anxiety, fearing that he would be recalled to Constantinople, and could not be persuaded that there was not some treachery at the bottom of the affair. The Pashas, he thought, had sought an opportunity of pretending to do me a favour, and would soon show their real intentions, and find an excuse for dragging him back to Constantinople, where he must lie rotting in a filthy jail to the end of his days. He was therefore much vexed at the behaviour of my servant, who, instead of expressing any sorrow at the severe wound he had inflicted on the Janissary, swore that he was exceedingly sorry to hear he was still alive. Accordingly, he addressed him as follows, ‘My good Henry (for that was his name), I beg you to control your anger. This is no place for displaying your courage or avenging your wrongs; in our present situation it is no mark of cowardice to pocket an affront. Whether we will or no, we are in their power. Pray, remember how much mischief this ill-timed passion of yours may bring on us; we may in consequence be all brought back to Constantinople, and everything that has been done may be undone, or at any rate, unsettled, the result of which will be fresh worries and endless trouble. I beg you another time, if you have no regard for your own safety, for my sake at any rate, to control yourself more.’

But his remonstrances fell on deaf ears. Henry was a man of obstinate disposition, and when angered, most unreasonable. ‘What would it have mattered to me,’ he answered, ‘even if I had killed him? Had he not resolved to murder me? if but one of all the blows he aimed at my head had reached me, he had butchered me like a sheep. The idea of my being guilty for slaying a man, who was endeavouring to kill me! I am desperately sorry for one thing, and that is, that I do not feel quite sure that he will not recover from my blow.’ Then he swore he would spare no Turk, who wanted to wound him, but would, at all hazards, do his best to kill him. De SandÉ did not approve of these sentiments.

The Janissary, having received the wound I mentioned, made it out to be worse than it was. Two Jews, who were acquainted with the Spanish tongue, came to me, saying that the Janissary was in great danger; I must give him some compensation, or else I should hear more of it; much trouble was in store for me on this account. I replied as I thought politic.

But as I knew the Turkish habit of bringing false accusations, I considered it better to be beforehand with them. I immediately asked Ibrahim, through a servant, to lend me one of his suite, to escort one of my men to Constantinople, saying that the case was urgent. Ibrahim wondered what the reason could be, and came to me at once. I said that I must ask Ali Pasha to have more trustworthy precautions taken for my safety on the journey, otherwise I could not feel confident of reaching the borders of my country uninjured, as two of my suite had been within an inch of being murdered. I then told him what had happened. Ibrahim understood how closely the affair concerned himself, and asked me to have the patience to wait a few moments, and immediately went across the road to the Janissary, whom he found in bed. He rated him soundly for behaving in such a way to my people; saying ‘we were returning, after peace had been concluded, in high favour with Solyman and all the Pashas. None of my requests had been denied me, and many concessions had been made unasked; he himself had been attached to me as my companion on the journey to take care that proper respect was paid to me everywhere. The Janissary had been the first person found to do us any injury, and that I wished to send to Constantinople to complain about it. If this were done, the Janissary well knew what the consequences would be.’

By this speech not only was the Janissary’s comb cut, but it was now his turn to be frightened.

On the following day we pursued our journey towards Buda, the doctor being as nimble as before in spite of his terrible bruises. When we were just in sight of Buda, by order of the Pasha some of his household came to meet us, along with several cavasses; a crowd of young men on horseback formed the most remarkable part of our escort on account of the strangeness of their attire, which was as follows. They had cut a long line in the skin of their bare heads, which were for the most part shaved, and inserted in the wound an assortment of feathers; though dripping with blood they concealed the pain and assumed a gay and cheerful bearing, as if they felt it not. Close before me were some of them on foot, one of whom walked with his bare arms a-kimbo, both of which he had pierced above the elbow with a Prague knife. Another, who went naked to the waist, had stuck a bludgeon in two slits he had made in his skin above and below his loins, whence it hung as if from a girdle. A third had fixed a horse’s hoof with several nails on the top of his head. But that was old, as the nails had so grown into the flesh, that they were quite immovable.

With this escort we entered Buda, and were conducted to the Pasha, who conversed with me for some time about the observance of the truce, with de SandÉ standing by. The company of young men, who showed such strange proofs of their indifference to pain, took up a position inside the threshold of the court-yard, and when I happened to look in that direction, the Pasha asked me what I thought of them. ‘Capital fellows,’ I replied, ‘save that they treat their skin in a way that I should not like to treat my clothes!’ The Pasha laughed and dismissed us.

On the next day we came to Gran, and proceeded from there to Komorn, which is the first fortress of his Imperial Majesty, and stands on the river Waag. On either bank of the river the garrison of the place with the naval auxiliaries, who are there called Nassadistas, was awaiting us. Before I crossed, de SandÉ embraced me and thanked me once more for the recovery of his freedom, disclosing at the same time the anxiety he had so long kept a secret. He told me frankly, that up to this time he had been under the belief that the Turks could not be acting in good faith in the business, and therefore had been in perpetual fear that he would have to go back to Constantinople, and end his days in a dungeon. Now at last he felt that he was not to be cheated of the liberty he owed me, for which he would be under the deepest obligations to me to his last breath.266

A few days afterwards we reached Vienna. At that time the Emperor Ferdinand was at the Diet of the Empire with his son Maximilian, whose election as King of the Romans was then proceeding. I informed the Emperor of my return and of Ibrahim’s arrival, asking his pleasure concerning him, for he was anxious to be conducted to Frankfort.

The Emperor at first replied, that he thought it more advisable that the Turks should await his return at Vienna, deeming it impolitic that men of so hostile a nation should be conducted all the way from Vienna to Frankfort through the heart of the Empire.

But it was tedious to wait, and might have given the Turks many grounds for suspicion, and there was no cause for alarm, if Ibrahim with his suite should travel through the most flourishing part of the Empire; on the contrary, it was desirable that he should thereby form a just estimate of its strength and greatness, and, most of all, that he should see at Frankfort how unanimous the chief princes of the Empire were in electing Maximilian as his father’s successor.

When I had laid these arguments before the Emperor, he gave his consent to Ibrahim and his attendants being conducted to Frankfort. So we set out on our journey thither by Prague, Bamberg, and Wurzburg.

Ibrahim was unwilling to pass through Bohemia without paying his court to the Archduke Ferdinand; but the Archduke did not think fit to give him an audience, except incognito.

When I was only a few days’ journey from Frankfort, I decided to precede the Turks by one or two days, that I might, before they arrived, inform the Emperor about certain matters connected with my embassy. I therefore took post, and arrived at Frankfort the eve of the day, on which seven years before I had commenced my second journey from Vienna to Constantinople. I was received by my most gracious Emperor with a warmth and indulgence which was due not to my own poor merits, but to the natural kindness of his character. You may imagine how much I enjoyed, after so many years, seeing my Master not only alive and well, but also in the utmost prosperity. He treated me in a manner betokening his high satisfaction at the way in which I had discharged the duties of the embassy, thanked me for my long services, expressed his complete approval of the result of my negotiations, loaded me with tokens of his esteem, and, in short, bestowed on me every possible mark of favour.

On the day before the coronation (November 29, N.S.), Ibrahim arrived at Frankfort very late in the evening, after the gates of the town had been shut, which according to ancient custom are not allowed to be opened the whole of the following day. But his Imperial Majesty gave express orders that the gates should be opened for the Turks the next day. A place was assigned them from which they could see the Emperor elect passing, with the whole of the show and procession. It appeared to them a grand and magnificent spectacle, as indeed it was. There were pointed out, among the others who accompanied the Emperor to do him honour, three Dukes, those of Saxony, Bavaria, and Juliers,267 each of whom could, from his own resources, put a regular army in the field; and many other things were explained to them about the strength, dignity, and grandeur of the Empire.

A few days afterwards Ibrahim had an audience of the Emperor, related the reasons of his coming, and presented to him such gifts as are considered the most honourable among the Turks. After the peace had been ratified, the Emperor honoured him with magnificent presents, and sent him back to Solyman.

I am still detained here by my private affairs, though longing to fly from the court and return home. For, indeed, the life of a court is by no means to my liking. Full well do I know its cares. Beneath its gaudy show lurk endless miseries. In it deceit abounds, and sincerity is rare. There is no court which is not haunted by envy, in which it is not vain to seek for friendship that can be trusted, and in which there is not cause to fear a change of favour and a sudden fall. For even monarchs themselves are human. I have seen a man, who had entered the palace escorted by a hundred friends, return home with hardly a single companion, on account of the Sovereign’s displeasure. A court does not recognise real merit till too late, but is guided by mere shadows, such as rumour, outward appearances, intrigues and popular mistakes, so that I should not hesitate to call those fortunate, who have been granted a speedy and happy release from its annoyances. To be able to live for oneself and literature, and to grow old in some quiet country nook, with a few honest friends, is indeed an enviable lot. If there is any true life to be found in this earthly pilgrimage, surely it must be this. Far too often in a court is a buffoon of rank valued more highly than a man of merit; indeed a picture of an ass among monkeys gives an excellent notion of the position of an honest man among courtiers.

It is of ordinary courts that I speak. For I freely admit that many courts, and especially this one, derive lustre from the presence of men of distinction in every walk of life, who shed around them a glorious light. Be this as it may, I prefer a peaceful retired life, with plenty of time for reading, to the throng and tumult of a court. But, though I long to depart, I am afraid my most gracious Sovereign may detain me, or at any rate summon me back, when I have reached my retirement at home. He has consented to my departure, it is true, but only on condition of my returning if recalled. But if this occurs (for who could refuse the courteous request of a Sovereign who is able to command, and to whom one owes so much?) then one consolation will be left me, namely, that it will be granted me to gaze upon the most Sacred Person of my Emperor, or, to express it better, upon the living image of real virtue.

For I assure you my master is the noblest prince on whom the sun ever shone. His character and his virtues give him a claim to empire such as few have ever possessed. Supreme power must everywhere command respect, even when held by unworthy hands, but to deserve supreme power and to be fit to wield it, is, in my judgment, a far more glorious thing.

I speak not therefore of his birth, nor of his illustrious ancestors; his greatness requires no extraneous support, but can stand on its own merits; it is his personal virtues and his personal fitness for his high station that strike me most forcibly.

There have been many bad Emperors, who did not deserve to be elevated to such a pinnacle of power; but, of all the Emperors that ever lived, not one has merited that dignity more than my master.

Again, how many originally upright and faultless characters when raised to power, have been quickly corrupted by their freedom from restraint and by the temptations of a court, and have plunged headlong into every form of vice. They forgot they were mortal, and conceiving arrogant thoughts beyond the limits of human ambition, they claimed to be elevated to heaven, and ranked among the gods, while all the time they were unworthy to be reckoned among men.

But few men’s necks can bear the load of an exalted lot; many sink beneath it, and when placed in a high position forget themselves. It is a hard trial to have unlimited power, and yet to curb one’s desires.

There is none whose eyes have been less dazzled than my master’s by the splendour of high position, and no one has kept a firmer hold on virtue, or guarded more diligently against his naturally upright disposition being corrupted by the temptations to which royalty is exposed. He has always felt, that those who shine before men in the glory of exalted rank ought to influence their minds to good by the purity of their lives.

He is most zealous for religion, and piously serves and worships God, always living as if he were in His immediate presence, measuring all his actions by His law, and thereby governing his whole life. Whether in prosperity or adversity, he recognises the Hand which gives and takes away. In short, while still on earth he leads a life such as saints in heaven may lead.

He feels intensely the seriousness of his position. All his words and actions have the common weal for their object, and he ever makes his personal interests subordinate to his subjects’ welfare. So much is this the case that some people accuse him of sacrificing the legitimate claims of his household and his children to the welfare of the state.

To those about him he shows every possible kindness, and treats us all as if he were responsible for our welfare, and, in fact, were the father of every member of his vast household. Who is there who has implored his protection in vain, when he needed assistance, or has not had proof of his generosity? He thinks every day lost in which he has not benefited some one; and, while he welcomes every one with the greatest affection, towards the members of his household he is especially gracious. Among them there is no one who can complain of being neglected or passed over; he knows by heart the life, habits, merits, and even the name, of everyone, however low his rank may be. Mighty prince as he is, when he sees them leading careless and unbecoming lives, he does not hesitate, at a fitting opportunity, to remind them of their duty and rebuke them; and, if they reform, to praise and reward them. Therefore, when they leave his presence, they declare that they find the Emperor not a master, but a father.

It is also his constant practice, when he has punished their errors by his displeasure for some days, after he has pardoned them, to restore them to exactly their former position, blotting out from his memory all recollection of their fault.

He lays down the law most uprightly, and as strictly for himself as for others. For he does not think he has the right of disregarding himself the rules he prescribes for others, or of allowing himself a license which he punishes in them.

He keeps his passions under control, and confines them within the limits of reason. Hatred, anger, and harsh language are strangers to him. No man alive has heard him disparage another; not even those whom he knows to be unjust to himself. He has never said a harsh word of any one, nor does he ever speak ill of people behind their backs.

Beneath his protection goodness is secure; malice, violence, deceit, dishonesty, all vices in a word, fly from his presence, and crimes and outrages receive the punishment they deserve.

The Romans had their censors appointed to regulate morals, and to keep the nation firm in the path of duty and the customs of their sires, but among us no censor is required, as the life of our Sovereign supplies his place. His bright example shows us what to follow and what to avoid.

He is extremely kind towards men of worth and learning, who are trained in the pursuits which do the State good service. In dealing with men of this description he lays aside his royalty and treats them, not as a master, but as an intimate friend on a footing of perfect equality, as one who would be their companion and rival in striving after what is right, making no distinction between those who owe their high position to the credit they derive from the glory of their ancestors, and those who have been elevated by their own merits and have proved their worth. With them he enjoys passing the time he has to spare from business, which, however, is but little. These are the men he values, holding, as he does, that it is of great public importance that merit should occupy the position which is its due.

He is naturally eager for information, and desirous of knowing everything worthy of a human being’s attention, and therefore always has some subject about which he wishes to hear the opinion of men of learning, from time to time interposing some shrewd and pointed observation of his own, to the great admiration of his hearers. Thus he has acquired no mean store of useful information, so that it is impossible to ask him a question on any subject with which he is wholly unacquainted.

He knows several languages. Spanish, as his mother tongue, takes the first place, then come French, German, Latin, and Italian. Although he can express anything he means in Latin, yet he has not learnt it so accurately as not to infringe, at times, the rules of grammar, a fault to be blamed in a man of letters, but not, in my humble judgment, to be hardly criticised in an Emperor.268

No one will deny that what I have said so far is true, but perchance some will regret that he has not paid more attention to warlike enterprises, and won his laurels on the battle-field. The Turks, such an one will say, have now for many years past been playing the tyrant in Hungary, and wasting the land far and wide, while we do not give any assistance worthy of our name. Long ago ought we to have marched against them, and allowed fortune by one pitched battle to decide which was to be master. Such persons, I grant, speak boldly, but I question if they speak prudently. Let us go a little deeper into the matter. My opinion is that we should judge of the talents of generals or commanders rather from their plans than from results. Moreover, in their plans they ought to take into account the times, their own resources, and the nature and power of the enemy. If an enemy of an ordinary kind, with no great prestige, should attack our territories, I frankly confess it would be cowardly not to march against him, and check him by a pitched battle, always supposing that we could bring into the field a force equal to his. But if the enemy in question should be a scourge sent by the wrath of God (as was Attila of yore, Tamerlane in the memory of our grandfathers, and the Ottoman Sultans in our own times), against whom nothing can stand, and who levels to the ground every obstacle in his way; to oppose oneself to such a foe with but scanty and irregular troops would, I fear, be an act so rash as to deserve the name of madness.

Against us stands Solyman, that foe whom his own and his ancestors’ exploits have made so terrible; he tramples the soil of Hungary with 200,000 horse, he is at the very gates of Austria, threatens the rest of Germany, and brings in his train all the nations that extend from our borders to those of Persia. The army he leads is equipped with the wealth of many kingdoms. Of the three regions, into which the world is divided, there is not one that does not contribute its share towards our destruction. Like a thunderbolt he strikes, shivers, and destroys everything in his way. The troops he leads are trained veterans, accustomed to his command; he fills the world with the terror of his name. Like a raging lion he is always roaring around our borders, trying to break in, now in this place, now in that. On account of much less danger many nations, attacked by superior forces, have left their native lands and sought new habitations. When the peril is small, composure deserves but little praise, but not to be terrified at the onset of such an enemy, while the world re-echoes with the crash of kingdoms falling in ruins all around, seems to me to betoken a courage worthy of Hercules himself.269 Nevertheless, the heroic Ferdinand with undaunted courage keeps his stand on the same spot, does not desert his post, and stirs not an inch from the position he has taken up. He would desire to have such strength that he could, without being charged with madness and only at his own personal risk, stake everything on the chance of a battle; but his generous impulses are moderated by prudence. He sees what ruin to his own most faithful subjects and, indeed, to the whole of Christendom would attend any failure in so important an enterprise, and thinks it wrong to gratify his private inclination at the price of a disaster ruinous to the state. He reflects what an unequal contest it would be, if 25,000 or 30,000 infantry with the addition of a small body of cavalry should be pitted against 200,000 cavalry supported by veteran infantry. The result to be expected from such a contest is shown him only too plainly by the examples of former times, the routs of Nicopolis and Varna, and the plains of Mohacz, still white with the bones of slaughtered Christians.270

A general must be a novice indeed, who rushes into battle without reckoning up his own strength or that of the enemy. And then what follows when too late? Why, simply that excuse, unpardonable in a general, which is ushered in by the words, ‘But I never thought’271....

It makes an enormous difference what enemy we have to encounter; I should not ask you to accept this assertion if it were not supported by the evidence of the greatest generals. CÆsar, indeed, the greatest master of the art of war that ever existed, has abundantly demonstrated how much depends on this, and has ascribed to the good fortune of Lucullus and Pompey that they met with such cowardly enemies, and on this account won their laurels at a cheap and easy rate. On the only occasion that he met with such a foe in Pharnaces, speaking as if in jest of an exploit, which had cost him no pains, and therefore deserved no praise, he showed the easiness of his victory by his despatch, ‘Veni, vidi, vici.’ He would not say the same thing if he were now-a-days to wage war with those nations; in his time they were enervated and made effeminate by luxury, but now they lead a frugal and hardy life, are enured to hunger, heat, and cold, and are trained by continual toil and a rigorous system of discipline to endure every hardship and to welcome every danger.

It is not without reason that Livy argues, that Alexander of Macedon would have made war with far different results, if he had had the Romans for enemies, instead of the Persians or the unwarlike Indians. It is one thing to make war with warlike nations, and another to fight with peoples ruined by luxury or unaccustomed to arms. Among the Persians mere numbers were much thought of, but in dealing with those same Persians it proved to be more trouble to slaughter than to conquer them. I consider Hannibal’s three victories, at the Trebia, Lake Thrasimene, and CannÆ, are to be placed far above all the exploits of Alexander. Why so? the former won his successes over famous warriors, the latter had the effeminate nations of Asia to contend with.

Fabius Maximus had no less courage than T. Sempronius, C. Flaminius, or Varro, but more sagacity. That prudent general knew that he must not rashly hazard everything against an enemy brought up in the camp, whose whole life had been passed in arms, who had been trained in the school of great commanders, who was distinguished by so many trophies, and attended by some extraordinary destiny or good fortune; delay and opportunity were absolutely necessary to make his defeat a possibility. When he had to contend with such an enemy, the only hope he had left was to avoid a battle, until there was a chance of fighting with success. Meanwhile he had to stand up against the foe, keep him in check, and harass him. In this Fabius was so successful, that perhaps he is entitled to quite as much credit for defeating Hannibal as Scipio himself, although the latter won the final victory. For who can tell whether Scipio would have had an opportunity of conquering at Zama, if Fabius had not checked Hannibal’s victorious career? Nor should a victory won by strategy be thought less of than one gained by force. The former has nothing in common with animals, the latter has.

The Emperor Ferdinand’s plan was the same as that of Fabius Maximus, and accordingly, after weighing his own strength and that of Solyman, he came to the conclusion that it would be the height of bad generalship to tempt fortune, and encounter in a pitched battle the attack of so mighty an enemy. There was another course open to him, namely, to endeavour to check his inroad by the same means as we should use to stay the overflow of a swollen stream, and accordingly he directed all his energies to the construction of walls, ditches, and other fortifications.

It is forty years, more or less, since Solyman at the beginning of his reign, after taking Belgrade, crushing Hungary, and slaying King Louis, made sure of obtaining not only that province but also those beyond; in this hope he besieged Vienna, and renewing the war reduced GÜns, and threatened Vienna again, but that time from a distance. Yet what has he accomplished with his mighty array of arms, his boundless resources and innumerable soldiery? Why, he has not made one single step in Hungary in advance of his original conquest. He, who used to make an end of powerful kingdoms in a single campaign, has won, as the reward of his invasions, ill-fortified castles or inconsiderable villages, and has paid a heavy price for whatever fragments he has gradually torn off from the vast bulk of Hungary. Vienna he has certainly seen once, but as it was for the first, so it was for the last time.272

Three things Solyman is said to have set his heart on, namely, to see the building of his mosque finished (which is indeed a costly and beautiful work),273 by restoring the ancient aqueducts to give Constantinople an abundant supply of water, and to take Vienna. In two of these things his wishes have been accomplished, in the third he has been stopped, and I hope will be stopped. Vienna he is wont to call by no other name than his disgrace and shame.

But I return to the point from which I made this digression, namely, that I do not hesitate to claim for Ferdinand a foremost place among generals, inasmuch as, with resources wholly inadequate to the occasion, he has never quailed, but for many a long year has, with marvellous fortitude, sustained the attacks of a foe of no ordinary kind. He has preserved a large portion of Hungary for better days; a greater feat in my eyes than many a triumph won under favourable circumstances over conquered kings and vanquished nations. The greater his need at the critical hour, the brighter his courage shone. Of course I cannot expect those to appreciate his conduct who think that everything ought to be risked in a single action, without the slightest regard to the time, the circumstances, or the strength of the foe. But to anyone else it must seem well nigh miraculous, that a realm so open and exposed as that of Hungary, and one so torn by civil war, should be capable of being defended so long, and should not have altogether passed under the yoke of its powerful assailant. That so much has been done is wholly owing to God’s special mercy, and under Him to the ceaseless toil and anxious care of this most prudent monarch.

In this task what difficulties had he not to encounter, each more grievous than the preceding! The enemy was in sight, his friends were far off; the succours his brother Charles sent came from a distance and arrived too late; Germany, although nearest to the conflagration, was weary of supplying aid; the hereditary states were exhausted by their contributions; the ears of many Christian princes were deaf to his voice when he demanded assistance; though the matter was one of vital importance to them, it was about the last they were likely to attend to. And so at one time, by his own valour, with the forces he could gather from Hungary, Austria, and Bohemia, at another, by the resources of the Empire, at another, by hiring Spanish or Italian troops, he held his ground, though at vast cost. By a line of garrisons he has protected the frontiers of Hungary, which extend for fifteen days’ journey, for he is obliged always to keep some troops embodied, even during a time of truce. For at times there are truces; and he condescends, when there is fear of the Sultan’s attack, and he has no other means of stopping him, to send ambassadors and presents to appease his wrath, as the best chance of saving the necks of the unfortunate Hungarians from the coming storm.

It is ridiculous to suppose that a man thus engaged can enjoy a good night’s rest. For the benefit of the state he must forego sleep. Affairs so weighty demand continual watchfulness, and great anxiety. You may think it is a panegyric I am composing, but I am writing my letter with strict historical accuracy.

To manage these affairs he has ministers, few indeed, but good. The leading men among them, whom perhaps you have heard of, are John von Trautson and Rodolph von Harrach,274 both of whom are persons of singular loyalty and prudence.

I will conclude with a few details of his private life. He rises at five, even in the severest winter months, and after prayers and hearing mass retires to the council chamber, where he devotes himself to public business until it is time for dinner. He is occupied the same way in the afternoon till supper. When I say supper, I mean, not his own, but that of his councillors, for he never touches supper himself, and does not take food more than once a day and then sparingly; nor does he indulge more freely in drinking, being content to finish his dinner with two draughts of wine. Since he lost his wife, no other woman has been allowed to take her place. He does not care for jests and the amusements by which many are attracted. Fools, jugglers, buffoons, parasites, the darlings, but also the curses, of ordinary courts, are banished from his palace. He avoids leisure, and is never idle. If, which is an unusual event, he has any time to spare from business, he devotes it, as I previously mentioned, to conversations with men of worth and learning, which he greatly enjoys. In particular, they stand by him at dinner, and talk with him on various topics.

You may be sure that not many of his subjects would wish to change their mode of life for his, which is so frugal and severe. For how rarely can you find a man who does not devote some fraction of his life to pleasure? Who would cheerfully endure the loss of all his amusements? Who would not be disgusted at spending his last years in the midst of unceasing business and anxieties—a condition which more resembles slavery than sovereignty? But the Emperor is of a different opinion, and when talking with his friends is wont to say, that ‘it is not for his own sake that he has been appointed by God to so important an office; the helm of empire has not been entrusted to him that he may wallow in pleasures and amusements; the terms on which private fortunes are inherited are far different from those which regulate the succession to kingdoms and empires. No one is forbidden to use and enjoy the advantages of his patrimony, but all these numerous nations have been committed by God to his charge, that he may take care of them and bear the toil, while they enjoy the fruits of his labours; that he may endure the burden and heat of the day, while rest and peace are secured for them.’

Hunting is the only amusement of which he ever partakes, and that not so much for the sake of pleasure as of health. For, when he feels his mind and body require bracing after a long spell of sedentary work, he chooses a day to refresh himself by out-of-door exercise and plenty of fresh air. On such occasions, very early in the morning, in summer at daybreak, in winter some hours before sunrise, he goes out to hunt, whatever the weather may be. Sometimes, however, only the afternoon is devoted to this occupation. I remember once hearing him say, when I was standing by him at dinner, ‘I have done all my work, I have finished all my business, I have come to the bottom of my despatch-box, there is nothing left in the chancery to keep me; the rest of the day I will spend in bodily exercise.’ And so he returns home, when the night is already advanced, delighted at having killed a boar, or a stag, or, sometimes, even a bear, and without taking any food or drink, composes himself to sleep, all wearied by his various exertions.

It is absurd, therefore, for anyone to look back with regret on Trajan, Verus, and Theodosius, and to wish that such wonderful Emperors were living in our times. I seriously and solemnly declare, that I believe there is more real merit in my master than in the three of them put together.

But my admiration for so great a man is carrying me away too far. It is not my design to speak of his merits as they deserve; that would require a volume, not a letter, and would call for talents and faculties that are far beyond me, but, as I have narrated my other adventures to you, I wished that you should not remain in ignorance of the character of the Emperor I serve. I shall conclude with that which is the universal prayer with regard to the saint and champion of our age—‘Serus in coelum redeat.’

As to your inquiries about Greek books and your writing that you hear I have brought back many curiosities and some rare animals, there is nothing among them that is much worth mentioning. I have brought back a very tame ichneumon, an animal celebrated for its hatred to the crocodile and asp, and the internecine war it wages with them. I had also a remarkably handsome weasel, of the kind called sables, but I lost him on the journey. I also brought with me several beautiful thoroughbred horses, which no one before me has done, and six she-camels. I brought back some drawings of plants and shrubs, which I am keeping for Mattioli,275 but as to plants and shrubs themselves I have few or none. For I sent him many years ago the sweet flag (Acorus calamus276) and many other specimens. Carpets too, and linen embroidered in Babylonian fashion, swords, bows, and horse-trappings, and many nicknacks elegantly made of leather, which is generally horse leather, and other trifling specimens of Turkish workmanship I have, or rather, to speak more correctly, I ought to say, I had. For, as in this great assemblage of Sovereigns, both male and female, here at Frankfort, I give, of my own accord, many presents to many people as compliments, and am ashamed to refuse many others who ask me, what I have left for myself is but little. But, while I think my other gifts have been well bestowed, there is one of which I regret having been so lavish, namely, the balsam,277 because physicians have thrown doubts on its genuineness, declaring that it has not got all the properties which according to Pliny mark the true balsam, whether because the strength of the very old plants, from which it flows, has been in some degree impaired by age, or for some other reason. This much, at any rate, I know for certain, that it flowed from the shrubs which are cultivated in the gardens of Matarieh, near Cairo.278

Before I left Constantinople I sent a Spanish physician, named Albacar, to Lemnos, that he might be there on August 6, at the digging out of that famous earth,279 and so might write us a full and certain account of its position and source, and the mode of extracting it and preparing it for use; which I do not doubt he would have done, had he not been prevented by circumstances over which he had no control. For a long time I wanted to cross over there, that I might be an eye-witness myself. As the Turks did not allow me to do so, I took pains to make myself, at least, an ear-witness, if I may say so.

I am also bringing back a great medley of ancient coins, of which I shall present the most remarkable to my master.

I have besides, whole waggonfuls, whole shiploads, of Greek manuscripts. There are, I believe, not much fewer than 240 books, which I sent by sea to Venice, to be conveyed from there to Vienna, for their destination is the Imperial Library. There are some which are not to be despised and many common ones. I ransacked every corner to collect, in a sort of final gleaning, all that remained of such wares. The only one I left at Constantinople was a copy of Dioscorides,280 evidently a very ancient manuscript, written throughout in uncial characters and containing drawings of the plants, in which, if I am not mistaken, there are also some fragments of Cratevas and a treatise on birds. It belongs to a Jew, the son of Hamon, who was Solyman’s physician, and I wanted to buy it, but was deterred by the price. For he demanded 100 ducats, a sum suiting the Imperial purse, but not mine. I shall not leave off pressing the Emperor till I induce him to ransom so famous an author from such foul slavery. The manuscript is in very bad condition from the injuries of age, being so worm-eaten on the outside that hardly anyone, if he found it on the road, would take the trouble of picking it up.

But my letter is too long already; expect to see me in person very shortly; if anything remains to be told, it shall be kept for our meeting. But mind you invite men of worth and learning to meet me, so that pleasant company and profitable conversation may serve to rub off the remains of the rust I have contracted during my long sojourn among the Turks. Farewell.

Frankfort, December 16, 1562.

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