CHAPTER XI.
The physical training of the young Janizaries consisted in such dailyexercises as would develop strength and tirelessness of muscle,steadiness of nerve, keenness and accuracy of eye, as well as grace ofmien. They were also taught by expert workmen all the arts of dailyneed; to make as well as to use the bow; to trim and balance thearrow; to forge, temper, and sharpen the sword; to shoe the horse; tomake and mend their clothing and the entire trappings of their steeds;to build and manage the keelless kaiks[35] which darted like fishesthrough the surface of the river; to bind rafts into pontoons for thecrossing of streams; to reap and grind the grain, and cook their food.Any special talent or adaptability was noted by the instructors, andthe Janizaries encouraged to attain to rare expertness in single arts.
The training in arms was especially severe, and under masters infencing, archery, riding, swimming, marching, deploying--the ablesttacticians, whose wounds or age permitted their absence from activecampaigns, being found always at the head of the various departments.The Janizary, while a mere lad in years, was often more than a matchin single combat for the most stalwart men in other corps, such as thePiade and Azabs among footmen, the Ouloufedji and Akindji amongtroopers.
But, notwithstanding this individual prowess and ambition werestimulated to the highest degree, they were disciplined to abjectobedience within the corps. Each one was as a part of some intricatemechanism, all moved by one spring, which was the will of the chiefAga. At a moment's notice they must start, in companies or alone; onmilitary expeditions, or secret service as spies and scouts; it mightbe to the recesses of Asia or the upper Danube; to assail forts or toconduct intrigues; having always but one incentive, that of thecommon service and the common glory.
To develop in the same person these two seemingly antagonisticqualities--of intensest individuality and abject subserviency to theirorder--required the shrewdest manipulation of the mind and will of thecadet from his earliest enrollment in childhood. As certain experthorse-trainers control the spirit of noble steeds, withoutextinguishing any of their fiery ardor, and tell the secret of theirpower to those who come after them in the guild, so from the days ofBlack Khalil this marvellous system of discipline had been perpetuatedamong the corps, producing but rarely a weakling and as rarely arebel.
Michael learned his first lesson in subordination upon the return fromthe hunt. While the Janizary officers were not displeased with theprowess the little fellow had shown, even against the prince, it wasforeseen that such an impetuous nature needed the curb. For three dayshe was confined to a room in solitude and silence. No one spoke orlistened to him. His only attendant was an old man, both deaf anddumb, who evidently knew nothing and cared nothing for Michael'soffence or its punishment.
During this time the lad's suspense was terrible. Was he to be killedfor having assaulted the prince? Would they take him to the torture?Perhaps this old man had been guilty of some such offence, and theyhad cut his tongue and bored out his ears! He had heard of the searingiron passed before the eyes, and then the life-long darkness. When heslept his overwrought imagination fabricated horrid dreams in whichhe was the victim of every species of cruelty. He fancied that he wasbeing eaten by a kennel of foxes, to whom he is given every day untiltheir hunger shall be satisfied; then taken away and reserved fortheir next meal. He tried to compute how many days he would last.Sometimes he imagined that he was exposed naked in the cold, and madeto stand day and night on the ice of the Marissa, until he should befrozen: but his heart is so hot with his rebel spirit that it will notfreeze. Once he thought that Prince Mahomet came each day and stabbedhim with that pearl-set dagger he drew on him at the hunt.
His dreams were too frightful to allow him to sleep long at a time;yet, when awake, his fears were such that he longed to get back againamong the terrible creatures of his fancy. Oh, that some one wouldspeak to him, and tell him his fate! He would welcome the worsttorture, if only he could be allowed to talk to the torturer.
After a while rage took the place of, or at least began to alternatewith, fear. He regretted that he had not killed the impudent prince.
"There stands his horse," he would say to himself--marking a line onthe wall--"now I leap; seize his dagger; strike him to the heart; and,before they can stop me, plunge it into my own heart, so! Ah! when Iam out of this place I will kill him! I will! and go down to hell withhim!" And the little frame would swell, and the eyes gleam withdemoniacal light through the dusky chamber.
There are deep places even in a child's soul--ay, bottomlessdepths--which, when unfretted by temptation, are so tranquil andclear that the kindliness and joy of heaven are reflected in them,warranting the saying of the old Jewish Rabbis, "Every child is aprophet of the pure and loving God." But when disturbed by a sense ofwrong and injury, these depths in a child's heart may rage as acaldron hot with the fires of hell; as a geyser pouring out the wrathand hatred which we conceive to be born only in the nether world.
After a time Michael's fury died away. Another feeling took itsplace--the crushing sense of his impotence. His will seemed to bebroken by the violence of its own spasm. He was stunned by hisrealization of weakness. He fell with his face to the cold stones ofthe floor, moaning at first, but soon passing into a waking stupor inwhich only consciousness remained: hopeless, purposeless, withoutenergy to strive, and without strength to cry--a perfectly passivespirit. The centipede that crawled from the dusty crevice of thewalls, and raised half his body to look at the strange figure lyingthere, might have commanded him. The spider might have captured him,and spun about his soul a web of destiny, if only he could haveconveyed a thought of it from his tiny eyes. For, as the body faints,so also does the spirit under the pressure of woe.
The old mute brought in the meal on the third day, placed it besidehim, and retired. An hour later he returned and found the breaduntasted; the child in the same attitude, but not asleep. He touchedhim with his foot, but evoked no sign that his presence wasrecognized. He gazed for a few moments; then shook his head like anartisan who, upon inspecting some piece of work he has been making, isnot satisfied with it.
He summoned Selim. The old soldier, finding that his entrance did notarouse the lad, crossed his legs upon the floor beside him, andwaited. The light from the high window of the room fell upon Selim'swrinkled face. But it seemed as if another light, one from within,blended with it. His harsh features were permeated by a glow andsoftness, as he gazed upon the exhausted child. His eyes filled withtears; but they were speedily dried by the stare with which he turnedand looked first at the blank walls, and then, following back the rayof light, to the window and beyond; his soul transported far away overlands, through years, to a cottage on the banks of the Grau. He sawthere a face so beautiful! was it really of one he once called"Mother?" or a dim and hazy recollection of a painting of theChristian Madonna he had seen in his childhood? Happy groups ofvillage children were playing down among the lilies by the water'sedge, and over the hills gently sloping back from the river's bank.Their faces were as clear cut there against the blue sky beyond thewindow, as once--sixty years ago--they were against the green grass ofthe meadow. He heard again the sweet ring of the chapel bell echoingback from the ragged rocks of the opposite shore. And now the midnightalarm! A fight with strange looking turbaned men! Flames bursting fromthe houses of the hamlet! Men shrieking with wounds, and womenstruggling in the arms of captors! And a little child, ah, so lonelyand tired with a long march! and that child--himself!--His eyesrested as fondly upon Michael as did ever a father's upon his boy.
But as the wind extinguishes a candle, a movement of Michael sent allthe gleams gathered out of former days from old Selim's features.Severity, almost savageness, took the place of kindliness among thewrinkles of his countenance, as naturally as the waters of a rivulet,held back for a moment by a child's hand, fill again their channels.
The boy raised his head. His face was pale; the eyes sunken; theirnatural brilliance deepened, but as that of the flashing waters isdeepened when
it is frozen into the glistening icicle. Or shall we saythat the dancing flames of the child's eyes had become the steady glowof embered coals;--their life gone out, but the hot core left there,not to cheer, only to burn. Those three days of silence, with theirsuccessive dramas of mystery, terror, rage and depression, had wroughtmore changes in him than many years of merely external disciplinewould have done.
The close searching glance of Selim detected all this; and also thatthe child was in a critical condition. The will was broken, but it wasnot certain that this had not been accomplished by the breaking of theentire spirit; instead of curbing, destroying it: not taming thetiger's daring, but converting it into the sluggishness and timidityof the cat.
"Michael!" cried he.
There was no response except the slight inclination of the headindicating that the word had been heard.
"Follow me!"
The lad rose mechanically, showing no interest or attention beyondthat required for bodily obedience.
Pausing at the door-way the old man put his hand upon the boy'sshoulder and said sternly, yet with a caution ready to change histone--
"Do you know that we have power to more severely punish you?"
The words made no impression upon the child.
"The bastinado? The cage?" The boy raised his face, but upon it was noevidence of fear; perhaps of scorn. He had suffered so much thatthreats had no power over him.
Selim was alarmed at these symptoms. His experience with such casestaught him that this lethargic spell must be broken at whatever cost.Feeling must be excited; and if an appeal to the child's imaginationfailed, physical pain must be inflicted. Something must rouse him, orinsanity might ensue.
A peculiar instrument of torture was a frame set with needles pointinginwards. Into this sometimes a culprit was placed, and the framescrewed so close about the person that he could not move from a fixedposition without forcing the needles into his flesh. This frame wasput about the boy. He stared stupidly at the approaching points, butdid not shrink. Selim pressed one of the needles quickly. Instantlythe boy uttered a cry of pain. His face blanched with fright. Thetears sprang to his eyes, and through them came an agonizing look ofentreaty.
Selim's whole manner changed as suddenly. Schooled as he was toharshness; to strike one's head from his shoulders at the command ofthe Aga without an instant's hesitation; to superintend the slowprocess of a "discipline" by torture, without a remorsefulthought;--yet this was not his nature. And now that better, deeper,truer nature, hitherto unexercised for years, asserted itself. Hisheart went out to Michael the instant there was no further necessityfor its restraint.
"Bravo! my little hero," cried he, catching him to his arms. "You areof the metal of the invincibles, and henceforth only valiant deeds,bright honors and endless pleasures are to be yours. You shall lodgewith me to-night."
FOOTNOTE:
[35] Kaiks or caiques; light row-boats.
The Captain of the Janizaries Page 11