by Lew Wallace
CHAPTER VII
THE GREAT GUN SPEAKS
The first sufficient gleam of light next morning revealed to thewatchmen on the towers an ominous spectacle. Through the night they hadheard a medley of noises peculiar to a multitude at work with all theirmight; now, just out of range of their own guns, they beheld acontinuous rampart of fresh earth grotesquely spotted with marbles fromthe cemetery.
In no previous siege of the Byzantine capital was there reference tosuch a preliminary step. To the newly enlisted, viewing for the firsttime an enemy bodily present, it seemed like the world being pared downto the smallest dimensions; while their associate veterans, to whomthey naturally turned for comfort, admitted an appreciable respect forthe Sultan. Either he had a wise adviser, they said, or he was himselfa genius.
Noon--and still the workmen seemed inexhaustible--still the rampartgrew in height--still the hordes out on the campania multiplied, andthe horizon line west of the Gate St. Romain was lost in the increasingsmoke of a vast bivouac.
Nightfall--and still the labor.
About midnight, judging by the sounds, the sentinels fancied the enemyapproached nearer the walls; and they were not mistaken. With theadvent of the second morning, here and there at intervals, ill-definedmounds of earth were seen so much in advance of the intrenched linethat, by a general order, a fire of stones and darts was opened uponthem; and straightway bodies of bowmen and slingers rushed forward, andreturned the fire, seeking to cover the mound builders. This was battle.
Noon again--and battle.
In the evening--battle.
The advantage of course was with the besieged.
The work on the mounds meanwhile continued, while the campania behindthe intrenchment was alive with a creaking of wheels burdened bymachinery, and a shouting of ox-drivers; and the veterans on the wallssaid the enemy was bringing up his balistas and mangonels.
The third morning showed the mounds finished, and crowned withmantelets, behind which, in working order and well manned, every sortof engine known in sieges from Alexander to the Crusaders was inoperation. Thenceforward, it is to be observed, the battle was by nomeans one-sided.
In this opening there was no heat or furore of combat; it was ratherthe action of novices trying their machines, or, in modern artilleryparlance, finding the range. Many minutes often intervened betweenshots, and as the preliminary object on the part of the besiegers wasto destroy the merlons sheltering the warders, did a stone strikeeither wall near the top, the crash was saluted by cheers.
Now the foreigners defending were professionals who had graduated inall the arts of town and castle taking. These met the successes oftheir antagonists with derision. "Apprentices," they would say,"nothing but apprentices."... "See those fellows by the big springalthere turning the winch the wrong way!" ... "The turbaned sons ofSatan! Have they no eyes? I'll give them a lesson. Look!" And if thebolt fell truly, there was loud laughter on the walls.
The captains, moreover, were incessantly encouraging the raw men underthem. "Two walls, and a hundred feet of flooded ditch! There will bemerry Christmas in the next century before the Mahounds get to us atthe rate they are coming. Shoot leisurely, men--leisurely. An infidelfor every bolt!"
Now on the outer wall, which was the lower of the two, and naturallyfirst to draw the enemy's ire, and then along the inner, the Emperorwent, indifferent to danger or fatigue, and always with words of cheer.
"The stones under our feet are honest," he would say. "The Persian camethinking to batter them down, but after many days he fled; and searchas we will, no man can lay a finger on the face of one of them, andsay, 'Here Chosroes left a scar.' So Amurath, sometimes called Murad,this young man's father, wasted months, and the souls of his subjectswithout count; but when he fled not a coping block had been disturbedin its bed. What has been will be again. God is with us."
When the three days were spent, the Greeks under arms began to beaccustomed to the usage, and make merry of it, like the veterans.
The fourth day about noon the Emperor, returning from a round of thewalls, ascended the Bagdad tower mentioned as overlooking the Gate St.Romain on the right hand; and finding Justiniani on the roof, he saidto him: "This fighting, if it may be so called, Captain, is withoutheart. But two of our people have been killed; not a stone is shaken.To me it seems the Sultan is amusing us while preparing something moreserious."
"Your Majesty," the Genoese returned, soberly, "now has Heaven givenyou the spirit of a soldier and the eyes as well. Old John Grant toldme within an hour that the yellow flag on the rising ground before usdenotes the Sultan's quarters in the field, and is not to be confoundedwith his battle flag. It follows, I think, could we get behind theJanissaries dismounted on the further slope of the rise, yet inposition to meet a sally, we would discover the royal tent not unwiselypitched, if, as I surmise, this gate is indeed his point of mainattack. And besides here are none of the old-time machines as elsewherealong our front; not a catapult, or bricole, or bible--as some, withwicked facetiousness, have named a certain invention for casting hugestones; nor have we yet heard the report of a cannon, or arquebus, orbombard, although we know the enemy has them in numbers. Wherefore,keeping in mind the circumstance of his presence here, the omissionssatisfy me the Sultan relies on his great guns, and that, while amusingus, as Your Majesty has said, he is mounting them. To-morrow, orperhaps next day, he will open with them, and then"--
"What then?" Constantine asked.
"The world will have a new lesson in warfare."
The Emperor's countenance, visible under his raised visor, knit hard.
"Dear, dear God!" he said, half to himself. "If this old Christianempire should be lost through folly of mine, who will there be toforgive me if not Thou?"
Then, seeing the Genoese observing him with surprise, he continued:
"It is a simple tale, Captain.... A Dacian, calling himself Urban,asked audience of me one day, and being admitted, said he was anartificer of cannon; that he had plied his art in the foundries ofGermany, and from study of powder was convinced of the practicality ofapplying it to guns of heavier calibre than any in use. He haddiscovered a composition of metals, he said, which was his secret, andcapable, when properly cast, of an immeasurable strain. Would I furnishhim the materials, and a place, with appliances for the work such as hewould name, I might collect the machines in my arsenal, and burn themor throw them into the sea. I might even level my walls, and in theirstead throw up ramparts of common earth, and by mounting his guns uponthem secure my capital against the combined powers of the world. Herefused to give me details of his processes. I asked him what reward hewanted, and he set it so high I laughed. Thinking to sound him further,I kept him in my service a few days; but becoming weary of hisimportunities, I dismissed him. I next heard of him at Adrianople. TheSultan Mahommed entertained his propositions, built him a foundry, andtried one of his guns, with results the fame of which is a wonder tothe whole East. It was the log of bronze Count Corti saw on theroad--now it is here--and Heaven sent it to me first."
"Your Majesty," returned the Genoese, impressed by the circumstance,and the evident remorse of the Emperor, "Heaven does not hold usaccountable for errors of judgment. There is not a monarch in Europewho would have accepted the man's terms, and it remains to be seen ifMahommed, as yet but a callow youth, has not been cheated. But lookyonder!"
As he spoke, the Janissaries in front of the gate mounted and rodeforward, probably a hundred yards, pursued by a riotous shouting andcracking of whips. Presently a train of buffaloes, yoked and tugginglaboriously at something almost too heavy for them, appeared on theswell of earth; and there was a driver for every yoke, and every driverwhirled a long stick with a longer lash fixed to it, and howled lustily.
"It is the great gun," said Constantine. "They are putting it inposition."
Justiniani spoke to the men standing by the machines: "Make ready boltand stone."
The balistiers took to their wheels eagerly, and discharged a show
er ofmissiles at the Janissaries and ox-drivers.
"Too short, my men--more range."
The elevation was increased; still the bolts fell short.
"Bring forward the guns!" shouted Justiniani.
The guns were small bell-mouthed barrels of hooped iron, muzzleloading, mounted on high wheels, and each shooting half a dozen ballsof lead large as walnuts. They were carefully aimed. The shot whistledand sang viciously.
"Higher, men!" shouted the Genoese, from a merlon. "Give the piecestheir utmost range."
The Janissaries replied with a yell. The second volley also failed.Then Justiniani descended from his perch.
"Your Majesty," he said, "to stop the planting of the gun there isnothing for us but a sally."
"We are few, they are many," was the thoughtful reply. "One of us onthe wall is worth a score of them in the field. Their gun is anexperiment. Let them try it first."
The Genoese replied: "Your Majesty is right."
The Turks toiled on, backing and shifting their belabored trains, untilthe monster at last threatened the city with its great black Cyclopeaneye.
"The Dacian is not a bad engineer," said the Emperor.
"See, he is planting other pieces."
Thus Justiniani; for oxen in trains similar to the first one came uptugging mightily, until by mid-afternoon on each flank of the firstmonster three other glistening yellow logs lay on their carriages in alike dubious quiet, leaving no doubt that St. Romain was to beoverwhelmed, if the new agencies answered expectations.
If there was anxiety here, over the way there was impatience too fiercefor control. Urban, the Dacian, in superintendency of the preparation,was naturally disposed to be careful, so much, in his view, depended onthe right placement of the guns; but Mahommed, on foot, and whip inhand, was intolerant, and, not scrupling to mix with the workmen, urgedthem vehemently, now with threats, now with promises of reward.
"Thy beasts are snails! Give me the goad," he cried, snatching one froma driver. Then to Urban: "Bring the powder, and a bullet, for when thesun goes down thou shalt fire the great gun. Demur not. By the sword ofSolomon, there shall be no sleep this night in yon _Gabour_ city, leastof all in the palace they call Blacherne."
The Dacian brought his experts together. The powder in a bag was rammedhome; with the help of a stout slab, a stone ball was next rolled intothe muzzle, then pushed nakedly down on the bag. Of a truth there wasneed of measureless strength in the composition of the piece. Finallythe vent was primed, and a slow-match applied, after which Urbanreported:
"The gun is ready, my Lord."
"Then watch the sun, and--_Bismillah!_--at its going down, fire.... Aimat the gate--this one before us--and if thou hit it or a tower oneither hand, I will make thee a _begler-bey_."
The gun-planting continued. Finally the sun paused in cloudy splendorready to carry the day down with it. The Sultan, from his tent of manyannexes Bedouin fashion, walked to where Urban and his assistants stoodby the carriage of the larger piece.
"Fire!" he said.
Urban knelt before him.
"Will my Lord please retire?"
"Why should I retire?"
"There is danger."
Mahommed smiled haughtily.
"Is the piece trained on the gate?"
"It is; but I pray"--
"Now if thou wilt not have me believe thee a dog not less than anunbeliever, rise, and do my bidding."
The Dacian, without more ado, put the loose end of the slow-match intoa pot of live coals near by, and when it began to spit and sputter, hecast it off. His experts fled. Only Mahommed remained with him; and nofeat of daring in battle could have won the young Padishah a name forcourage comparable to that the thousands looking on from a safedistance now gave him.
"Will my Lord walk with me a little aside? He can then see the ballgoing."
Mahommed accepted the suggestion.
"Look now in a line with the gate, my Lord."
The match was at last spent. A flash at the vent--a spreading whitecloud--a rending of the air--the rattle of wheels obedient to therecoil of the gun--a sound thunder in volume, but with a cracklesharper than any thunder--and we may almost say that, with a new voice,and an additional terror, war underwent a second birth.
Mahommed's ears endured a wrench, and for a time he heard nothing; buthe was too intent following the flight of the ball to mind whether thereport of the gun died on the heights of Galata or across the Bosphorusat Scutari. He saw the blackened sphere pass between the towersflanking the gate, and speed on into the city--how far, or with whateffect, he could not tell, nor did he care.
Urban fell on his knees.
"Mercy, my Lord, mercy!"
"For what? That thou didst not hit the gate? Rise, man, and see if thegun is safe." And when it was so reported, he called to Kalil, theVizier, now come up: "Give the man a purse, and not a lean one, for, byAllah! he is bringing Constantinople to me."
And despite the ringing in his ears, he went to his tent confident andhappy. On the tower meantime Constantine and the Genoese beheld thesmoke leap forth and curtain the gun, and right afterward they heardthe huge ball go tearing past them, like an invisible meteor. Theireyes pursued the sound--where the missile fell they could not say--theyheard a crash, as if a house midway the city had been struck--then theygazed at each other, and crossed themselves.
"There is nothing for us now but the sally," said the Emperor.
"Nothing," replied Justiniani. "We must disable the guns."
"Let us go and arrange it."
There being no indication of further firing, the two descended from thetower.
The plan of sortie agreed upon was not without ingenuity. The gateunder the palace of Blacherne called _Cercoporta_ was to be opened inthe night. [Footnote: In the basement of the palace of Blacherne therewas an underground exit, Cercoporta or gate of the Circus; but IsaacComnenus had walled it up in order to avoid the accomplishment of aprediction which announced that the Emperor Frederick would enterConstantinople through it.... But before the siege by Mahommed the exitwas restored, and it was through it the Turks passed into thecity.--VON HAMMER, _Hist. de l'Empire Ottoman._] Count Corti, with thebody-guard mounted, was to pass out by it, and surprise the Janissariesdefending the battery. Simultaneously Justiniani should sally by theGate St. Romain, cross the moat temporarily bridged for the purpose,and, with the footmen composing the force in reserve, throw himselfupon the guns.
The scheme was faithfully attempted. The Count, stealing out of theancient exit in the uncertain light preceding the dawn, gained aposition unobserved, and charged the careless Turks. By this time ithad become a general report that the net about his neck was a favor ofthe Princess Irene, and his battle cry confirmed it--_For God andIrene!_ Bursting through the half-formed opposition, he passed to therear of the guns, and planted his banderole at the door of Mahommed'stent. Had his men held together, he might have returned with a royalprisoner.
While attention was thus wholly given the Count, Justiniani overthrewthe guns by demolishing the carriages. A better acquaintance with theoperation known to moderns as "spiking a piece," would have enabled himto make the blow irreparable. The loss of Janissaries was severe; thatof the besieged trifling. The latter, foot and horse, returned by theGate St. Romain unpursued.
Mahommed, aroused by the tumult, threw on his light armor, and rushedout in time to hear the cry of his assailant, and pluck the banderolefrom its place. At sight of the moon with the cross on its face, hiswrath was uncontrollable. The Aga in command and all his assistantswere relentlessly impaled.
There were other sorties in course of the siege, but never anothersurprise.