Thus, at the very time when Nisida and Wagner were united in the bonds of love on the island of which they were the possessors—while, too, Isaachar the Jew languished in the prisons of the Inquisition of Florence, at which city the chivalrous-hearted Manuel d’Orsini tarried to hasten on the trial and give his testimony in favor of the Israelite—and moreover while Flora, and the Countess Giulia dwelt in the strictest retirement with the young maiden’s aunt—at this period, we say, a fleet of three hundred sail quitted Constantinople under the command of the kapitan-pasha, or lord high admiral, and proceeded toward the Island of Rhodes. At the same time, Solyman the Magnificent crossed into Asia Minor, and placing himself at the head of an army of a hundred thousand men, commenced his march toward the coast facing the island, and where he intended to embark on his warlike expedition. His favorite Ibrahim accompanied him, as did also the Grand Vizier Piri Pasha, and the principal dignitaries of the empire.
It was in the spring of 1521 that the Ottoman fleet received the army on board at the Cape in the Gulf of Macri, which is only separated by a very narrow strait from the Island of Rhodes; and in the evening of the same day on which the troops had thus embarked, the mighty armament appeared off the capital city of the Knights of St. John.
CHAPTER XLVII.
THE SIEGE OF RHODES.
On the following morning, salvoes of artillery throughout the fleet announced to the inhabitants and garrison of Rhodes, that the sultan was about to effect a landing with his troops.
The debarkment was not resisted; for it was protected by the cannonade which the ships directed against the walls of the city, and the Christians had no vessel capable of demonstrating any hostility against the mighty fleet commanded by the kapitan-pasha.
Villiers of Isle Adam, the generalissimo of the Christian forces, had reduced to ashes all circumjacent villages, and received their inhabitants into the city itself. But the Ottomans cared not for the waste and desolation thus created around the walls of the city; but while their artillery, alike on land and by sea, maintained an incessant fire on the town, they threw up works of defense and established depots of provisions and ammunition. The sultan went in person accompanied by Ibrahim, and attended by a numerous escort, to reconnoiter the fortifications, and inspect the position of his troops.
On the other side, Villiers of Isle Adam distributed his forces in such a manner that the warriors of each nation defended particular gates. Thus the corps of Spaniards, French, Germans, English, Portuguese, Italian, Auvergnese and Provincials, respectively defended eight of the gates of Rhodes; while the lord general himself, with his body-guard, took his post at the ninth. For the knights of Rhodes comprised natives of nearly all Christian countries, and the mode in which Villiers thus allotted a gate to the defense of the warriors of each nation, gave an impulse to that emulative spirit which ever induces the soldiers of one clime to vie with those of another.
The Ottoman troops were disposed in the following manner: Ayaz Pasha, Beglerbeg (or governor) of Roumilia, found himself placed in front of the walls and gates defended by the French and Germans; Ahmed Pasha was opposed to the Spaniards and Auvergnese; Mustapha Pasha had to contend with the English: Kasim, Beglerbeg of Anatolia, was to direct the attack against the bastion and gates occupied by the natives of Provence; the Grand Vizier, Piri Pasha, was opposed to the Portuguese, and the sultan himself undertook the assault against the defenses occupied by the Italians.
For several days there was much skirmishing, but no advantage was gained by the Ottomans. Mines and countermines were employed on both sides, and those executed by the Christians effected terrible havoc amongst the Turks. At length in pursuance of the advice of the renegade Ibrahim, the sultan ordered a general assault to be made upon the city, and heralds went through the entire encampment, proclaiming the imperial command. Tidings of this resolution were conveyed into the city by means of the Christians’ spies; and while the Ottomans were preparing for the attack, Villiers of Isle Adam was actively employed in adopting all possible means for the defense.
At daybreak, the general assault commenced, and the aga (or colonel) of the janizaries succeeded in planting his banner on the gate intrusted to the care of the Spaniards and Auvergnese. But this success was merely temporary in that quarter; for the Ottomans were beaten back with such immense slaughter, that fifteen thousand of their choicest troops were cut to pieces in the breach and the ditch. But still the assault was prosecuted in every quarter and every point, and the Christian warriors acquitted themselves nobly in the defense of the city. The women of Rhodes manifested a courage and zeal which history has loved to record as most honorable to their sex. Some of them carried about bread and wine to recruit the fainting and refresh the wearied, others were ready with bandages and lint to stanch the blood which flowed from the wounded, some conveyed earth in wheelbarrows, to stop up the breaches made in the walls, and others bore along immense stones to hurl down upon the assailants.
Oh! it was a glorious, but a sad and mournful sight—that death-struggle of the valiant Christians against the barbarism of the East. And many touching proofs of woman’s courage and daring characterized that memorable siege. Especially does this fact merit our attention:—The wife of a Christian captain, seeing her husband slain, and the enemy gaining ground rapidly, embraced her two children tenderly, made the sign of the cross upon their brows, and then, having stabbed them to the heart, threw them into the midst of a burning building near, exclaiming, “The infidels will not now be able, my poor darlings, to wreak their vengeance on you, alive or dead!” In another moment she seized her dead husband’s sword, and plunging into the thickest of the fight, met a death worthy of a heroine.
The rain now began to fall in torrents, washing away the floods of gore which, since daybreak, had dyed the bastions and the wall; and the assault continued as arduously as the defense was maintained with desperation. Solyman commanded in person the division which was opposed to the gate and the fort intrusted by the lord general of the Christians to the care of the Italian auxiliaries. But, though it was now past noon, and the sultan had prosecuted his attack on that point with unabated vigor since the dawn, no impression had yet been made. The Italians fought with a heroism which bade defiance to the numerical superiority of their assailants; for they were led on by a young chieftain who, beneath an effeminate exterior, possessed the soul of a lion. Clad in a complete suit of polished armor, and with crimson plumes waving from his steel helmet, to which no visor was attached, that youthful leader threw himself into the thickest of the medley, sought the very points where danger appeared most terrible—and, alike by his example and his words, encouraged those whom he commanded to dispute every inch of ground with the Moslem assailants.
The sultan was enraged when he beheld the success with which that Italian chieftain rallied his men again after every rebuff; and, calling to Ibrahim to keep near him, Solyman the Magnificent advanced toward the breach which his cannon had already effected in the walls defended so gallantly by the Italian auxiliaries. And now, in a few minutes, behold the sultan himself, nerved with wonderful energy, rushing on—scimiter in hand—and calling on the young Italian warrior to measure weapons with him. The Christian chieftain understood not the words which the sultan uttered, but full well did he comprehend the anxiety of that great monarch to do battle with him; and the curved scimiter and the straight, cross-handled sword clashed together in a moment. The young warrior knew that his opponent was the sultan, whose imperial rank was denoted by the turban which he wore; and the hope of inflicting chastisement on the author of all the bloodshed which had taken place on the walls of Rhodes inspired the youth with a courage perfectly irresistible.
Not many minutes had this combat lasted, before Solyman was thrown down in the breach, and the cross-handled sword of his conqueror was about to drink his heart’s blood, when the renegade Ibrahim dashed forward from amidst the confused masses of those who were fighting around, and by a desperate effort hurled the young Ita
lian warrior backward.
“I owe thee my life, Ibrahim,” said the sultan, springing upon his feet. “But hurt not him who has combated so gallantly: we must respect the brave!”
The Italian chieftain had been completely stunned by his fall; he was, therefore, easily made prisoner and carried off to Ibrahim’s tent.
Almost at the same moment a messenger from Ahmed Pasha presented to the sultan a letter, in which was stated that the grand master, Villiers of Isle Adam, anxious to put a stop to the fearful slaughter that was progressing, had offered to capitulate on honorable terms. This proposition was immediately agreed to by the sultan, and a suspension of hostilities was proclaimed around the walls. The Ottomans retired to their camp, having lost upward of thirty thousand men during the deadly strife of a few hours; and the Christians had now leisure to ascertain the extent of their own disasters, which were proportionately appalling.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
THE PRISONER.
In the meantime Ibrahim had ordered his prisoner, the young Italian chieftain, to be conveyed to his tent; and when the renegade’s slaves had disencumbered the Christian of his armor, he began to revive. As Ibrahim bent over him, administering restoratives, a suspicion, which had already struck him the moment he first beheld his face, grew stronger and stronger; and the apostate at length became convinced that he had seen that countenance on some former occasion.
Ordering his slaves to withdraw, Ibrahim remained alone with his prisoner, who was now able to sit up on the sofa and gaze around him.
“I understand it all!” he exclaimed, the blood rushing back to his pale cheek; “I am in the power of the barbarians!”
“Nay, call us not harsh names, brave chieftain,” said Ibrahim, “seeing that we do not treat you unworthily.”
“I was wrong!” cried the prisoner; then, fixing his fine blue eyes upon the renegade, he added, “Were you not habited as a Moslem, I should conceive, by the purity with which you speak my native language, that you were a Christian, and an Italian.”
“I can speak many languages with equal fluency,” said Ibrahim, evasively, as a pang shot through his heart. “But tell me thy name, Christian—for thou art a brave man, although so young.”
“In my own country,” answered the youth, proudly, “I am called the Count of Riverola.”
We have before stated that Ibrahim was the complete master of his emotions: but it required all his powers of self-possession to subdue them now, when the name of that family into which he was well aware his sister had entered fell upon his ears. His suspicion was well founded; he had indeed seen Francisco before this day—had seen him when he was a mere boy, in Florence, for Alessandro was three or four years older than the young count. But he had never, in his native land, exchanged a word with Francisco; he had merely, occasionally, seen him in public; and it was quite evident that even if Francisco had ever noticed him at that time, he did not recollect him now. Neither did Ibrahim wish the young count to ascertain who he was; for the only thing which the renegade ever feared was the encounter of any one who had known him as a Christian, and who might justly reproach him for that apostasy which had led him to profess Mohammedanism.
“Lord Count of Riverola,” said Ibrahim, after a short pause, “you shall be treated in a manner becoming your rank and your bravery. Such, indeed, was the command of my imperial master, the most glorious sultan; but even had no such order been issued, my admiration of your gallant deportment in this day’s strife would lead to the same result.”
“My best thanks are due for these assurances,” returned Francisco. “But tell me how fares the war without?”
“The grand master has proffered a capitulation, which has been accepted,” answered Ibrahim.
“A capitulation!” exclaimed Francisco. “Oh! it were better to die in defense of the cross, than live to behold the crescent triumphant on the walls of Rhodes!”
“The motive of the grand master was a humane one,” observed Ibrahim; “he has agreed to capitulate, to put an end to the terrific slaughter that is going on.”
“Doubtless the lord general acts in accordance with the dictates of a matured wisdom!” exclaimed the Count of Riverola.
“Your lordship was the leader of the Italian auxiliaries?” said Ibrahim, interrogatively.
“Such was the honorable office intrusted to me,” was the reply. “When messengers from Villiers of Isle-Adam arrived in Florence, beseeching succor against this invasion, which has, alas! proved too successful, I panted for occupation to distract my mind from ever pondering on the heavy misfortunes which had overtaken me.”
“Misfortunes!” exclaimed Ibrahim.
“Yes—misfortunes of such a nature that the mere thought of them is madness!” cried Francisco, in an excited tone. “First, a beauteous and amiable girl—one who, though of humble origin, was endowed with virtues and qualifications that might have fitted her to adorn a palace, and whom I fondly, devotedly loved—was-snatched from me. She disappeared I know not how! All trace of her was suddenly lost, as if the earth had swallowed her up and closed over her again! This blow was in itself terrible. But it came not alone. A few days elapsed, and my sister—my dearly beloved sister—also disappeared, and in the same mysterious manner. Not a trace of her remained—and what makes this second affliction the more crushing—the more overwhelming, is that she is deaf and dumb! Oh! Heaven grant me the power to resist, to bear up against these crowning miseries! Vain were all my inquiries—useless was all the search I instituted to discover whither had gone the being whom I would have made my wife, and the sister who was ever so devoted to me! At length, driven to desperation, when weeks had passed and they returned not—goaded on to madness by bitter, bitter memories—I resolved to devote myself to the service of the cross. With my gold I raised and equipped a gallant band; and a favoring breeze wafted us from Leghorn to this island. The grand master received me with open arms; and, forming an estimation of my capacities far above my deserts, placed me in command of all the Italian auxiliaries. You know the rest; I fought with all my energy, and your sultan was within the grasp of death, when you rushed forward and saved him. The result is that I am your prisoner.”
“So young—and yet so early acquainted with such deep affliction!” exclaimed Ibrahim. “But can you form no idea, Christian, of the cause of that double disappearance? Had your sister no attendants who could throw the least light upon the subject?” he asked, with the hope of eliciting some tidings relative to his own sister, the beauteous Flora.
“I dare not reflect thereon!” cried Francisco, the tears starting into his eyes. “For, alas! Florence has long been infested by a desperate band of lawless wretches—and my God! I apprehend the worst—the very worst.”
Thus speaking, he rose and paced the spacious tent with agitated steps; for this conversation had awakened in his mind all the bitter thoughts and dreadful alarms which he had essayed to subdue amidst the excitement and peril of war. A slave now entered to inform Ibrahim that the sultan commanded his immediate presence in the imperial pavilion.
“Christian,” said Ibrahim, as he rose to obey this mandate, “wilt thou pledge me thy word, as a noble and a knight, not to attempt to escape from this tent?”
“I pledge my word,” answered Francisco, “seeing that thou thyself art so generous to me.”
Ibrahim then went forth; but he paused for a few moments outside the tent to command his slaves to serve up choice refreshments to the prisoner. He then hastened to the pavilion of the sultan, whom he found seated upon a throne, surrounded by the beglerbegs, the councilors of state, the viziers, the lieutenant-generals of the army, and all the high dignitaries who had accompanied him on his expedition. Ibrahim advanced and prostrated himself at the foot of his throne; and at the same moment two of the high functionaries present threw a caftan of honor over his shoulders—a ceremony which signified that the sultan had conferred upon him the title of beglerbeg, or “prince of princes.”
“Rise, Ibrahim
Pasha!” exclaimed Solyman, “and take thy place in our councils, for Allah and his prophet have this day made thee their instrument to save the life of thy sovereign.”
The newly-created pasha touched the imperial slipper with his lips, and then rising from his prostrate position, received the congratulations of the high functionaries assembled.
Thus it was that in a few months, protected by that secret influence which was hurrying him so rapidly along in his ambitious career, the Italian apostate attained to a high rank in the Ottoman Empire; but he was yet to reach the highest, next to that of the sovereign, ere he could hope to receive the fair hand of his mysterious patroness as the crowning joy of his prosperity, for her image, her charming image, ever dwelt in his mind, and an ardent fancy often depicted her as she appeared, in all the splendor of her beauty, reclining on the sofa at the dwelling to which he had been conducted with so much precaution, as detailed in a preceding chapter. On the following day peace was formally concluded between the Ottomans and the knights of Rhodes, the latter consenting to surrender the island to the formidable invaders. An exchange of prisoners was the result, and Francisco, Count of Riverola, again found himself free within twenty-four hours after his capture.
“Your lordship is now about to sail for your own clime,” said Ibrahim, when the moment of separation came. “Is there aught within my power that I can do to testify my friendship for one so brave and chivalrous as thou art?”
“Nothing, great pasha!” exclaimed Francisco, who felt his sympathy irresistibly attracted toward Ibrahim, he knew not why, “but, on the other hand, receive my heartfelt thanks for the kindness which I have experienced during the few hours I have been thy guest.”
“The history of thy afflictions has so much moved me,” said Ibrahim Pasha, after a brief pause, “that the interest I experience in your behalf will not cease when you shall be no longer here. If then you would bear in mind the request I am about to make, gallant Christian——”
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