A Knight of the White Cross: A Tale of the Siege of Rhodes

by G. A. Henty

  CHAPTER XXII THE STRUGGLE AT THE BREACH

  Two hours later Caretto and Gervaise were roused by the arrival of ahundred knights in place of the previous garrison; these bore the newsthat the pasha had sent in a flag of truce to ask for an armistice untilsundown, to enable him to carry off for burial the bodies of those whohad fallen in the attack. The request had been willingly granted; butD'Aubusson had at the same time thought it well to send down a strongreinforcement to the garrison to prevent any attempt at treachery on thepart of the Turks.

  "I have seldom heard pleasanter news," Caretto said; "for just as I fellasleep I was wondering how we were to rid ourselves of the corpses ofthe infidels. By tomorrow the place would have become unbearable; andthough, living, the Turks could not turn us out of the tower, they wouldwhen dead speedily have rid the place of us."

  In half an hour a number of Moslem vessels were seen approaching.Caretto did not wish the Turks to imagine that he doubted their goodfaith, and while directing the main body of knights to remain inconcealment near the breach, he placed two on sentry duty on the crestof the ruins, and, with four other knights and Gervaise, went down incomplete armour to salute the officer in command of the burying party,as he landed from the boats. The ships anchored a short distance out,and a number of boats rowed from them to the shore. As the Turkishofficer landed, Caretto saluted him, and said in Arabic,

  "I give you courteous greeting, Sir. When the cannon cease to sound andswords are sheathed, there is no longer animosity between brave men; andno braver than those whose bodies lie stretched there, breathed the airof heaven. If, sir, I and the knights with me do not uncover our heads,it is from no want of respect for the dead, but solely because we darenot stand bareheaded under the fierce rays of the sun."

  The Turk answered with equal courtesy, complimenting the knights ontheir defence.

  "Had I not seen it with my own eyes," he said, "I should have deemed italtogether impossible that so small a number of men could thus for hourshave withstood the attacks of some of the best of the sultan's troops.Tales have come down to us from our fathers of the marvellous prowessof the knights of your Order, and how at Smyrna, at Acre, and elsewhere,they performed such feats of valour that their name is still used byTurkish mothers as a bugbear to frighten their children. But the storieshave always seemed to me incredible; now I perceive they were true, andthat the present members of the Order in no way fall short of the valourof their predecessors."

  The knights remained with the Turkish commander and some of his officerswhile the work of collecting and carrying away the dead was performed,the conversation on their side being supported by Caretto and Gervaise.No less than seven hundred bodies were carried down to the boats,besides a great many wounded by the artillery fire. None were, however,found breathing among the great pile of dead at the upper part of thebreach, for the axes and double handed swords of the knights had, inmost of the cases, cleft through turban and skull.

  "This represents but part of our loss," the Turkish commander saidsadly, as the last party came down with their burdens to the boats."At least as many more must have perished in the sea, either in theirendeavours to escape when all was lost, in the destruction of theirvessels by fire, by the shot from your batteries, or by being run downby your galleys. Ah, Sir Knight, if it had not been for the appearanceof your fire ships, methinks the matter might have ended differently."

  "In that I altogether agree with you," Caretto said. "We were indeed,well nigh spent, and must have soon succumbed had it not been that thefire ships arrived to our rescue. You have a fair right to claim thatthe victory would have remained in your hands, had not those craft goneout and snatched it from you."

  Then, with salutes on both sides, the Turks took their places in theboats, and the knights returned to the fort. As soon as darkness cameon, a large body of slaves were marched down from the town, and, underthe direction of the knights, laboured all night at the mound, removinggreat quantities of the fallen stones and rubbish in a line halfway upit, and piling them above so as to form a scarp across the mound thatwould need ladders to ascend. Another party worked at the top of themound, and there built up a wall eight feet high. The work was completedby daylight, and the knights felt that they were now in a position toresist another attack, should Paleologus again send his troops to theassault.

  The night had passed quietly. There was a sound of stir and movement inthe Turkish battery, but nothing that would excite the suspicion of alarge body of troops being in motion. When it became light it was seenthat the Turkish ships had sailed away to their previous anchorage onthe other side of the Island, and although at considerable intervalsthe great cannon hurled their missiles against the fort, it was evidentthat, for the time at least, the attack was not to be pressed at thatpoint. A fresh body of slaves, however, came down from the town torelieve those who had been all night at work, and the repair of thedefences was continued, and with greater neatness and method than hadbeen possible in the darkness.

  At eight o'clock the bells of St. John's Church gave notice that asolemn service of thanksgiving for the repulse of the enemy was aboutto be held. Notice had been sent down early to the tower; and all theknights who could be spared, without too greatly weakening the garrison,went up to attend it; the service was conducted with all the pomp andceremony possible, and after it was over a great procession was formedto proceed to the shrine, where a picture of the Virgin held in specialreverence by the Order was placed.

  As it wound through the streets in splendid array, the grand master andofficials in all their robes of state, the knights in full armour andthe mantles of the Order, while the inhabitants in gala costume linedthe streets, windows, and housetops, the ladies waving scarves andscattering flowers down on the knights, the roar of great cannon on thesouth side of the city showed that the Turks had commenced the attack inanother quarter. Without pausing, the procession continued its way, andit was not until the service in the chapel had been concluded that anysteps were taken to ascertain the direction of the attack. As soon as itwas over, the knights hastened to the walls. During the night theTurks had transported their great basilisks, with other large pieces ofartillery, from the camp to the rising ground on the south side of thecity, and had opened fire against the wall covering the Jews' quarter,and at the same time against the tower of St. Mary on the one hand andthe Italian tower on the other.

  From other commanding spots huge mortars were hurling great fragments ofrock and other missiles broadcast into the town. The portion of the wallselected for the attack showed that the Turks had been well informed bytheir spies of the weak points of the defence. The wall behind which theJews' quarter lay, was, to all appearance, of thick and solid masonry;but this was really of great age, having formed part of the originaldefences of the town, before the Order had established itself there.The masonry, therefore, was ill fitted to resist the huge balls hurledagainst it by the basilisks. The langue of Provence was in charge ofthis part of the wall, and, leaving them for the present to bear thebrunt of the storm, the grand master sent the knights who could bespared, to assist the inhabitants to erect shelters against the storm ofmissiles falling in the town.

  Sheds with sharply sloping roofs, constructed of solid timber, werebuilt against the inner side of the walls, and beneath these numbers ofthe inhabitants found refuge. The work was performed with great celerityby the inhabitants, aided by the gangs of slaves, and in two or threedays the townspeople were all in shelter, either in these sheds, in thevaults of the churches, or in other strongly constructed buildings.

  Among the missiles hurled into the town were balls filled with Greekfire, but the houses being entirely built of stone, no conflagrationsof importance were caused by them, as a band of knights was organisedspecially to watch for these bombs, and whenever one of them was seen tofall, they hurried from their lookout to the spot, with a gang of slavescarrying baskets of earth and buckets of water, and quenched the flamesbefore they had made any great headway.

  T
he roar of the bombardment was almost continuous, and was heard atislands distant from Rhodes, telling the inhabitants how the battlebetween the Christians and the Moslems was raging.

  It was not long before the wall in the front of the Jews' quarter beganto crumble, and it was soon evident that it must, ere many days, succumbto the storm of missiles hurled against it. D'Aubusson lost no time inmaking preparations to avert the danger. He ordered all the houses inrear of the wall to be levelled; a deep semicircular ditch was then dug,and behind this a new wall, constructed of the stones and bricks fromthe houses destroyed, was built, and backed with an earthen rampart ofgreat thickness and solidity.

  The work was carried on with extraordinary rapidity. The grand masterhimself set the example, and, throwing aside his robes and armour,laboured with pick and shovel like the commonest labourer. This excitedthe people to the highest pitch of enthusiasm, and all classes threwthemselves into the task. Knights and slaves, men, women, and children,and even the inmates of the convents and nunneries, aided in the work,and when at last the outer wall fell, and the Turks thought that successwas at hand, the pasha saw with astonishment and dismay that entry tothe city was still barred by a work as formidable as that which he haddestroyed at an enormous expenditure of ammunition. There was now ashort breathing time for the besieged; but the depression which thefailure of their efforts excited among the Turks, was shortly dispelledby the arrival of a ship, with a despatch from Constantinople, in whichthe pasha was informed that the sultan himself was about to proceed toRhodes with a reinforcement of a hundred thousand men, and a fresh parkof artillery.

  Paleologus had some doubts as to whether the report was true or wasmerely intended to stimulate him to new efforts for the speedy captureof the place. Knowing well that the grand master was the heart and soulof the defence, and that the failure of the assault was mainly dueto his energy and ability, he determined to resort to the weapon sofrequently in use in Eastern warfare--that of assassination. To thisend he employed two men, one a Dalmatian, the other an Albanian; thesepresented themselves before the walls as deserters, and as there was noreason for suspecting their tale, they were admitted within the gates,and welcomed as having escaped from enforced service. They soon spreadthe tale of the speedy coming of the sultan with vast reinforcements,and as the pasha had on the previous day caused salutes to be fired,and other demonstrations to be made, the news was readily credited, andcaused the greatest dismay among the defenders.

  Some of the knights of the Italian and Spanish langues believed theprospect of a successful defence against so enormous a force wasabsolutely hopeless, and determined to put pressure upon D'Aubusson totreat for surrender before it became too late. They opened negotiationswith an Italian named Filelfo, one of D'Aubusson's secretaries, whoundertook to lay their opinion before the grand master. D'Aubusson atonce summoned the knights concerned in the matter before him. They foundhim with several members of the council.

  "Sir Knights," he said, "I have heard from my secretary your opinionsin the matter of a surrender, and since you are in such terror of theMoslem sultan, you have my full permission to leave the town; and, morethan that, I will myself secure your safe departure, which might beimperilled if your comrades or even the inhabitants of the town came tolearn that you had advocated surrender; but," he went on, changing histone from that of sarcasm to sternness, "if you remain with us, see thatthe word surrender never again passes your lips, and be assured that,should you continue your intrigues, in that direction, you shall meetwith the fate you so justly deserve."

  Overwhelmed by the grand master's accusation and sternness, the Italianand Spanish knights threw themselves on their knees and implored him togrant them an early opportunity of retrieving their fault by battle withthe infidel. Feeling that the lesson had been sufficiently severe, andthat henceforth there would be no renewal of intrigues for a surrender,D'Aubusson forgave them, and promised them a place in the van when nextthe Moslems attacked. The incident was not without its advantage, forthe two pretended deserters, believing that Filelfo, who had also fallenunder the displeasure of the grand master, would be ready to join in theconspiracy against his life, approached him. Filelfo, who was greatlyattached to D'Aubusson, saw by their manner that they wished to engagehim in some intrigue, and, feigning great resentment and anger athis disgrace, led them on until they divulged the entire plot forD'Aubusson's assassination, and made brilliant offers to him if he wouldafford them facilities for carrying it out, producing, in proof of theirpower to do so, a letter of the pasha, authorising them to make suchpromises in his name.

  Filelfo at once divulged the whole plot to D'Aubusson. The two men wereimmediately arrested, tried by the council, and sentenced to death. Theywere not, however, formally executed, for the populace, obtaining newsof their treachery, broke in upon their guards, and tore them topieces. Foiled in his attempt on the life of the grand master, the pashaprepared for a renewal of the attack, and it was not long before theknights on the lookout at the church of St. John perceived that the fortof St. Nicholas was again to be the scene of the attack. It was ere longdiscovered that a large number of men were busy some distance along theshore in building a long structure, that could only be intended for afloating bridge. Among the sailors who had aided in the attack with thefire ships were several men belonging to an English trader in the port.All who had done so had been handsomely rewarded for their conduct, andfive of the Englishmen had afterwards gone to the English auberge andhad asked to be enrolled for service against the Turks, as they wereweary of remaining on board in idleness when there was work to be done.Their offer had been accepted, and they had, in common with all thesailors in the port, laboured at the construction of the inner wall.When that was completed, Sir John Boswell, under whose special chargethey had been placed, said to Gervaise, "I think that I cannot do betterthan send these men down to St. Nicholas. It is probable that now theTurks see that they can do nothing at the new breach, they may try againthere. Sailors are accustomed to night watches, and there are many ofour knights who are not used to such work, and can be better trusted todefend a breach than to keep a vigilant watch at night. Will you takethese men down to Caretto, and tell him that he can sleep soundly ifhe has a couple of them on watch? One of them, Roger Jervis, who is themate of their ship, can speak some Italian, and as he is in command ofthem, Caretto will find no trouble in making them understand him."

  St. Nicholas had now been put into a fair state of defence, as a partyhad been kept steadily at work there. Gervaise had not been to the towersince the morning after the assault, and saw with satisfaction howmuch had been done to render it secure. He found that Caretto was fastrecovering from his wounds.

  "As it seems probable, Sir Fabricius," he said, after the firstgreetings to the knight, "that the Turks will favour you with anothervisit, I have brought you five watchdogs. They are countrymen of mine,and were among those who navigated the fire ships the other day. SirJohn Boswell has sent them down; they are, of course, accustomed tokeep watch at night. One of them is mate of their vessel, and will be incommand of them; he speaks a little Italian, and so will understand anyorders you may give him. I have been speaking to him as we came down; hewill divide his men into two watches, and will himself be on guard allnight. Will you assign them some quiet place where they can sleep in thedaytime? They can erect a shelter with a piece of sail cloth and a fewbits of board, and they will, of course, be furnished with food."

  "I shall be very glad to have them, for I am always restless at night,lest those on watch should close their eyes. You see, they have quitemade up their minds that this fort will not be attacked again, and soare less inclined to be vigilant than they would be, did they think thatan attack was impending."

  Now that there was reason to believe that St. Nicholas might again beattacked, Gervaise was frequently there with orders or inquiries fromthe grand master. A number of vessels in the harbour were fitted up asfire ships, so as to be in readiness when the attack came. He was aboutto start
early one morning when he saw Roger Jervis coming up with aheavy anchor on his shoulder.

  "Why, what are you bringing that up here for?" he asked. "Have you beendiving; for I see your clothes are dripping with water?"

  "Ay, ay, sir, I have been in the water, and that Italian commandertold me to come straight up here to tell the grand master all about thestory; and right glad am I to have met you, for I should have made buta poor fist of it alone; I don't know more of their lingo than just totalk a few words of it."

  "Then you had better tell me the story before I take you in."

  "Well, it was like this, Sir Knight: I had Hudson and Jeffreys postedupon the wall, and I thought I would take a turn down on the rocks, forit was a dark night, and you can see much farther when you are by theedge of the water than you can when you are at the masthead. I sat therefor an hour, and was thinking that it was about time to go up and turnout the other watch, when I saw something dark upon the water. It wasn'ta ship, that was certain, and if it was a boat there wasn't any one init; but it was too dark to make quite sure what it was. I watched it fora time, though I did not think much of the thing, taking it for a boatthat had got adrift, or maybe a barrel from one of the Turkish ships.Presently I made out that it was a good bit nearer than when I first sawit.

  "That puzzled me. There is no tide to speak of in these seas, and therewas no wind moving about. I could make out now that it was a boat,though a very small one, but certainly there was no one rowing it. Itlooked a very strange craft, and as I saw by the way it was bearing thatit would come ashore about five or six fathoms from where I was sitting,I slid quietly off the rock, put my sword down by me handy for action,and waited. Presently the boat came up alongside the rock, and a fellowstood up from behind the stern. I was glad to see him, for I had begunto think that there was witchcraft in the thing moving along by itself,but I can tell you I was savage with myself for not having guessed therewas a man swimming behind and pushing it on.

  "He stooped over the boat, and took something heavy out; then he feltabout among the rocks under the water, and then laid the thing downthere, and seemed to me to be settling it firm. I had half a mind tojump up and let fly at him, but then I thought it would be better to lethim finish what he was doing, and go off with the idea that no one hadseen him. So I kept hid until he started again. He waded a short waybefore he had to swim, and I could see that as he went he was paying outa rope over the stern. It was clear enough now what he had been up to:he had been fixing an anchor. What he did it for, or what use it couldbe to him, I could not say, but it was certain that he would not takeall that trouble, with the chance of being knocked on the head, fornothing; so I waited for a bit till he had got out of sight, and over tothe other side of the port.

  "Then I got up and felt about, and, chancing to get my foot under therope, went right over into the water. After that you may guess I was notlong in finding the anchor. I unknotted the rope from it and carried itashore; then it struck me that the Turks might take it into their headsto give a pull on it in the morning, and if they did; they would findout that their game, whatever it was, had been found out; so I got holdof a stone of about twenty pound weight, and fastened the rope's endround it. That was enough to prevent the rope getting slack and makethem think that it was still fast to the anchor; but, of course, if theypulled hard on it it would come home directly. I went and reported thematter the first thing this morning to the governor. He seemed to thinkthat it was important, and told me to bring the anchor up to the grandmaster, who would get one of the English knights to find out all aboutit; for he could not make out much of what I said."

  "It is very important," Gervaise said, "and you behaved very wisely inthe matter, and have rendered a great service by your discovery. I willtake you in at once to the grand master."

  Still bearing the anchor, the sailor followed Gervaise into an apartmentwhere D'Aubusson was taking council with some of the senior knights.

  "Pardon my interrupting your Highness," Gervaise said; "but the matteris so important that I knew you would listen to it, however occupied youwere." And he then repeated the narrative of the sailor's discovery.

  "This is indeed of the highest importance," D'Aubusson said, "and theknowledge that it gives us may enable us to defeat an attempt, thatmight otherwise have proved our ruin. You see, knights, it solves thequestion that we were just discussing. We agreed that this long floatingbridge that they have been constructing, was intended to enable them tocross the outer port and again attack St. Nicholas; and yet it seemed tous that even by night our batteries would be able to keep up such a fireon the boats, towing the head of the bridge across, as to render it wellnigh impossible for them to get it over. Now you see what their plan is.With the aid of this rope, the end of which they think is firmly fixedon our side, they mean to haul the bridge across, and that so silentlythat they hope to be upon us almost before we have time to don ourarmour. We shall now be fully prepared, and need have no fear of theresult."

  There could now be little doubt that the attack would be made withoutloss of time, especially as the Turks believed that they could gettheir bridge across unseen. The fire ships--which were altogether moreformidable than those Gervaise had improvised--were ordered to be madeready for action. This being arranged, the admiral left the councilat once, that no time should be lost in getting them in readiness.D'Aubusson then turned to the English sailor.

  "You have rendered us a great service indeed by your vigilance, andshowed great prudence by allowing the Turk to believe that he hadaccomplished his mission unsuspected. Had he thought he had beenobserved, some other plan would have been adopted. For so great aservice it is meet that a great reward should be given."

  He then took a bag from the hands of one of his secretaries, whom hehad sent to fetch it, while they were discussing the matter of the fireships.

  "Here are two hundred golden crowns," he added, handing the bag to theseaman. "With these you can either settle on shore, or can build astout ship and pursue your calling. Should you do so, call her the St.Nicholas, in remembrance of the gratitude of the Order of St. John foryour having saved that fort from the Turks."

  Astonished and delighted at the reward, which represented a very largesum in those days, the sailor stammered his thanks, and added, "I hopetonight that if I again have charge of a fire ship, I may be able to domore to prove to your Highness how grateful I am for the gift."

  Throughout the day preparations for the defence of St. Nicholas went onunceasingly. Gangs of men, as usual, worked in the breach; but, as itwas deemed advisable that there should be no outward show of activitythat would lead the Turks to suspect that their design had beendiscovered, neither reinforcements of men nor munitions were sent alongthe mole; everything being taken out by boats, which, rowing closelyalong under the wall, were hidden from the view of the Turks. Barrelsof Greek fire and pitch, cauldrons for heating the latter, a store offirewood, great balls of cotton steeped in oil and turpentine, sheavesof darts, spikes on short staves, that were, after darkness fell, to bethrust in among the fallen masonry to form a chevaux-de-frise--these,and all other matters that the ingenuity of the defenders could suggest,were landed at the water gate of the fort, while the garrison wasstrengthened by the addition of a large number of knights. Storesof ammunition were collected in readiness at all the batteries thatcommanded the mouth of the outer port, and by sunset D'Aubusson feltthat everything that was possible had been done to meet the impendingstorm.

  At midnight the Turkish preparations were complete. The attack by thebridge was to be assisted by a large number of boats and other craft,and many armed galleys were also brought up to destroy or tow awaythe defenders' fire ships. Paleologus himself was down by the shoredirecting the preparations. Some of his best troops were placed upon thefloating bridge, and, when all was ready, the order was given to pullupon the rope. No sooner, however, did the strain come upon it thanthere was a jerk, the rope slackened, and it was at once evident thatthe anchor had been discovered an
d the well laid plan disconcerted.Paleologus was furious, but, believing that the attack he had arrangedwould still be irresistible, he ordered a number of boats to take thebridge in tow, while a still larger force was to make a direct attackupon the breach. The movement was to be conducted as silently aspossible until it was discovered, and then a dash forward was to bemade.

  It was two o'clock before the fresh arrangements were completed andthe boats put out. They had gone but a short distance when the anxiouswatchers in St. Nicholas learnt by the dull, confused sound that cameacross the water, that the attack was, in spite of the failure of theplan to take the bridge silently across, to be persevered in. A cannonwas at once fired to give notice to the other batteries to be inreadiness, and as soon as the dark mass of boats was made out the gunsof the fort opened a destructive fire upon them, and a moment later wereseconded by those from the fortress; these, however, were at presentbeing fired almost at random, as the Turkish boats could not be made outat that distance. Now that all need for concealment was at an end, theTurkish war cry rose shrilly in the air, and the boatmen bent to theiroars. The great cannon at St. Anthony's Church hurled their tremendousmissiles at the tower, seconded by the fire of a number of other piecesthat had in the darkness been brought down almost to the water's edge.

  As before, the boats swept up to the foot of the breach, the Turksleaped out, and, undismayed by the storm of shot, climbed up to theassault. The short ladders that they had brought with them enabled themto surmount the escarpments so laboriously made, and with loud shoutsof "Allah!" they flung themselves upon the defenders on the crest ofthe breach. Here they were met by a line even more difficult to breakthrough than before. The knights were ranged three deep; those in thefront were armed with swords and battleaxes, while those in the othertwo lines thrust their spears out between the swordsmen, covering themwith a hedge of steel points. Others in the rear brought up buckets ofblazing pitch and Greek fire, and, advancing through gaps left for thepurpose, hurled the buckets down into the struggling mass on the slope.There the fire not only carried death among the assailants, but thelurid flames enabled the batteries to direct their shot with terribleeffect upon the breach, the crowded boats at its foot, and the bridgewhich was, with immense labour, presently got into position.

  It was not long before fresh light was thrown upon the scene, as thefire ships, issuing out from the inner harbour, burst into columns offlame, and, towed by boats, came into action. They were convoyed bythe two galleys, each with a full complement of knights, and these soonbecame engaged in a fierce fight with the Turkish vessels that bore downto arrest the course of the fire ships. The scene was indeed a terribleone, the roar of cannon, the shouts of the combatants, the screams ofthe poor wretches upon whom the terrible Greek fire fell, the clash ofarms and the shouts and cries of the Turks as they pressed across thebridge, united in a din that thrilled with horror the spectators, bothin the city and on St. Stephen's Hill.

  Several of the Turkish galleys, in their efforts to arrest the approachof the fire ships towards the bridge, became themselves involved in theflames; but they were so far successful that when daylight broke thebridge was still intact and the combat at the breach continued to ragewith determination and fury on both sides. The Turks there were led bya brave young prince named Ibrahim, a near relative of the sultan, withwhom he was a great favourite, and he was ever in the front line ofthe assailants, his splendid bravery animating the soldiers to continuetheir efforts. As the daylight broadened out, however, the light enabledthe Christian gunners to aim with far greater accuracy than had beforebeen possible, and, concentrating their fire upon the bridge,across which reinforcements continued to press to the support of theassailants, they succeeded in sinking so many of the boats that it wasno longer passable.

  Next they turned their fire upon the Turkish galleys, four of which theysank. Shortly afterwards, a ball struck the gallant young leader of theTurks, who, although previously several times wounded, had continued tofight in the front line. He fell dead, and his followers, disheartenedby his fall and by the destruction of the bridge, at once abandonedtheir efforts, and rushed down to the foot of the breach. The terriblescene enacted at the repulse of the previous attack was now repeated.The concentrated fire of the guns of the defenders carried destructioninto the crowded mass. Some gained the boats that still remaineduninjured, and rowed for the opposite shore; the greater number rushedinto the water and strove to recross it either by swimming or by the aidof the debris of the shattered boats. Their total loss was greater eventhan that suffered by them in the first attack, between two and threethousand being either killed or drowned, among them a number of theirbest officers. The amount of spoil, in the form of rich jewels andcostly gold ornaments, found on the bodies of the dead piled on thebreach, was very great.

  For three days after this terrible repulse the Turks were inactive,the pasha remaining shut up in his tent, refusing to see any one, or toissue orders. At the end of that time he roused himself from his stuporof grief and disappointment, and, abandoning the idea of any furtherattack upon the point that had cost him so dearly, he ordered the troopsto move round and renew the attack upon the wall in front of the Jews'quarter, and commence the construction of a battery on the edge of thegreat ditch facing the retrenchment behind the breach before effected.The knights of Italy and Spain determined to seize the opportunityof retrieving the disgrace that had fallen upon them. At night theydescended into the deep cutting, carrying across their ladders, and,silently mounting the opposite side, rushed with loud shouts into theunfinished battery. The Turks there, taken utterly by surprise, made buta slight resistance; a few were immediately cut down, and the rest fledpanic stricken.

  The knights at once set the woodwork of the battery on fire, hurled theguns down into the ditch, and then returned triumphantly into the town,the dashing feat completely reinstating them in the good opinion of thegrand master and their comrades.

  The incident showed the pasha that he must neglect no precautions, and,accordingly, he commenced his works at a distance from the walls, andpushed his approaches regularly forward until he again establisheda battery on the site of that from which his troops had been sounceremoniously ejected. While forming the approaches, the workmenhad been constantly harassed by the fire from the guns on the walls,suffering considerable loss of life; but their numerical superiority wasso vast that the loss in no way affected the plans of the pasha.

  As soon as the battery was completed, gangs of men, accustomed to miningoperations, set to work in its rear to drive sloping passages downwards,opening into the face of the great cutting, and through these vastquantities of earth and stones were poured, so as to afford a passageacross it, the depth being largely diminished by the great pile ofrubbish that had already fallen from the breached wall. This novel modeof attack was altogether unexpected. The knights had regarded the fossethat had been cut at such an enormous expenditure of labour as formingan altogether impassable obstruction, and were dismayed at seeing theprogress made in filling it up. D'Aubusson himself, full of resources ashe was, saw that the defence was seriously threatened, unless some planof meeting this unexpected danger could be devised.

  He consulted Maitre Georges; but the latter could make no suggestion;his only advice being the erection of a battery at a spot where itwas almost self evident that it could be of no utility whatever.Other circumstances combined to render the suspicions D'Aubusson hadentertained of the good faith of the renegade almost a certainty.Georges was seized, tried, and put to torture, and under this owned thathe had been sent into the town for the purpose of betraying it; and hewas, the same day, hung in the great square. His guilt must always beconsidered as uncertain. There was no proof against him, save hisown confession; and a confession extorted by torture is of no valuewhatever. There are certainly many good grounds for suspicion, but itis possible that Georges really repented his apostacy, and acted in goodfaith in deserting the standard of Paleologus. He was undoubtedly a manof altogether exceptiona
l ability and acquirements, and even the knightswho have written accounts of the siege do justice to the fascination ofhis manner and the charm of his conversation.

  D'Aubusson now set to work in another direction to counteract theefforts of the Turks. He erected an immense wooden catapult, which threwhuge pieces of rock into the midst of the Turkish works, crushing downthe wooden screens erected to hide their approaches, breaking in thecovered ways, and causing great loss of life among the besiegers. Atthe same time galleries were driven below the breach, opening into theditch, where their exits were concealed by masses of rubbish. Throughthese strong working parties issued out at night, and carried away upthe passages the rocks and other materials that the Turks had, duringthe day, brought, with immense labour, from a distance to the shoot. Thematerials so carried away were piled up behind the retrenchment, greatlyadding to its thickness and strength.

  For some days the Turks observed, to their astonishment, that the roadthey were constructing across the ditch was diminishing instead ofincreasing in bulk, and at length it became so evident that the garrisonwere in some way removing the materials, that the pasha determined todeliver the assault before the heap was so far diminished as to becomeimpassable. His former defeats had, however, taught him that successcould not be always calculated upon, however good its prospect mightappear; and although he had no real hope that the defenders wouldyield, he sent a formal summons for them to do so. This was refused withdisdain, and preparations were at once made for the assault.

  The pasha promised to his soldiers the sack of the town and all thebooty captured, and so assured were they of success that sacks weremade to carry off the plunder. Stakes, on which the knights, when takenprisoners, were to be impaled, were prepared and sharpened, and eachsoldier carried a coil of rope with which to secure his captive.

  Before ordering the assault, the way was prepared for it by a terriblefire from every siege gun of the Turks. This was kept up for twenty-fourhours, and so tremendous was the effect that the knights were unableto remain on the ramparts. The Turkish troops moved into position forattack, their movements being covered by the roar of the guns, and soonafter sunrise on the 22nd of July the signal was given, and at a numberof different points the Turks rushed to the assault. All these attacks,save that on the breach, were merely feints, to distract the attentionof the garrison, and to add to the confusion caused by this sudden andunexpected onslaught. The pasha's plans were well designed and carriedout; the knights, unable to keep their places on the ramparts under thestorm of missiles, had retired to shelter behind the walls. There was nothought of an instant assault, as they considered that this would not bedelivered until the new wall behind the breach had been demolished.

  Consequently, the rush of the Turks found the defenders altogetherunprepared. Swarming across the mass of debris in the ditch, theyascended the breach without opposition, and their scaling ladders wereplaced against the new wall before the knights could hurry up to itsdefence. Even before the alarm was given in the town, the Turkishstandard was waving on the parapet, and the Moslems were crowding onto the wall in vast numbers. The suddenness of the attack, the completesurprise, the sound of battle at various points around the walls, causedfor a time confusion and dismay among the knights charged with thedefence of the wall facing the breach. Roused by the uproar, theinhabitants of the town rushed up to their roofs to ascertain whatwas happening, and their cries of wild terror and alarm at seeing theTurkish banner on the walls added to the confusion. D'Aubusson sprangup from the couch, on which he had thrown himself in full armour, at thefirst sound of the alarm, and, sending off messages to all the aubergesto summon every man to the defence, ran down into the town, followed bya small party of knights.

  Rushing through the streets, now filled with half dressed people wildwith terror, he reached the foot of the wall, whose summit was crowdedwith the enemy, and saw in an instant that all was lost unless theycould be driven thence without delay. The effect of his presence wasinstantaneous. The knights, hitherto confused and dismayed, rallied atonce, and prepared for the desperate undertaking. The bank on the insidewas almost perpendicular, and those charged with its defence had usedtwo or three ladders for ascending to the rampart. These were at onceseized and planted against the wall.

  The position of the contending parties was now reversed; the Christianswere the assailants, the Turks the defenders. D'Aubusson himself wasthe first to ascend. Covering his head with his shield, he mounted therampart; but ere he could gain a footing on the top he was severelywounded and hurled backwards. Again he made the attempt, but was againwounded and thrown down. Once more he mounted, and this time made goodhis footing. A moment later, Gervaise, who had accompanied him from thepalace, stood beside him. Animated with the same spirit as his leader,he threw himself recklessly against the Turks, using a short, heavymace, which in a melee was far more useful than the long sword.Scimitars clashed upon his helmet and armour; but at every blow hestruck a Turk fell, and for each foot he gained a knight sprang on tothe wall and joined him. Each moment their number increased, and the warcry of the Order rose louder and fiercer above the din. The very numberof the Turks told against them. Crowded together as they were they couldnot use their weapons effectually, and, pressing fiercely upon them, theknights drove them back along the wall on either hand, hurling them downinto the street or over the rampart. On so narrow a field of battle theadvantage was all on the side of the knights, whose superior height andstrength, and the protection afforded by their armour, rendered themalmost invincible, nerved as they were with fury at the surprise thathad overtaken them, and the knowledge that the fate of the city dependedupon their efforts. After a quarter of an hour's desperate conflict theTurks were driven down the partial breach effected in the wall by thelast bombardment, and the Christians were again the masters of theirramparts. Paleologus, however, hurried up reinforcements, headed bya band of janissaries, whose valour had decided many an obstinateconflict. Before ordering them to advance, he gave instructions toa company of men of approved valour to devote all their efforts toattacking D'Aubusson himself, whose mantle and rich armour rendered hima conspicuous object among the defenders of the breach. Advancing to theattack, the janissaries burst through the mass of Turks still continuingthe conflict, and rushed up the breach. Then the chosen band, separatingfrom the rest, flung themselves upon the grand master, the suddennessand fury of their attack isolating him and Gervaise from the knightsaround.

  Surrounded as he was by foes, already suffering from two severe woundsand shaken by his falls from the ladder, the grand master yet made avaliant defence in front, while Gervaise, hurling his mace into the faceof one of his assailants, and drawing his two handed sword, covered himfrom the attack from behind. D'Aubusson received two more severe wounds,but still fought on. Gervaise, while in the act of cutting down anassailant, heard a shout of triumph from behind, and, looking round, hesaw the grand master sinking to the ground from another wound. With acry of grief and fury Gervaise sprang to him, receiving as he did soseveral blows on his armour and shield intended for the fallen knight,and, standing across him, showered his blows with such strength andswiftness that the janissaries shrank back before the sweep of theflashing steel. More than one who tried to spring into close quartersfell cleft to the chin, and, ere his assailants could combine fora general rush, a body of knights, who had just beaten off theirassailants, fell upon the ranks of the janissaries with a force and furythere was no withstanding, and the chosen troops of the sultan for thefirst time broke and fled.

  Excited almost to madness by the sight of their beloved master stretchedbleeding on the ground, the knights dashed down the breach in eagerpursuit. This action was decisive of the fate of the struggle. The panicamong the janissaries at once spread, and the main body of troops, whohad hitherto valiantly striven to regain the advantage snatched fromthem, now lost heart and fled in confusion. But their escape was barredby the great body of reinforcements pressing forward across the heap ofrubbish that formed the
breach over the deep ditch. Maddened by fear,the fugitives strove to cut a way through their friends. The whole ofthe defenders of the breach now fell upon the rear of the strugglingmass, hewing them down almost without resistance, while the cannon fromthe walls and towers kept up an unceasing fire until the last survivorsof what had become a massacre, succeeded in gaining their works beyondthe ditch, and fled to their camp. From every gateway and postern theknights now poured out, and, gathering together, advanced to the attackof St. Stephen's Hill. They met with but a faint resistance. The greaterportion of the disorganised troops had made no pause at their camp, buthad continued their headlong flight to the harbour, where their shipswere moored, Paleologus himself, heartbroken and despairing at hisfailure, sharing their flight. The camp, with all its rich booty andthe great banner of the pasha, fell into the hands of the victors, who,satisfied with their success, and exhausted by their efforts, made noattempt to follow the flying foe, or to hinder their embarkation; foreven now the Turks, enormously outnumbering them as they did, might bedriven by despair to a resistance so desperate as once again to turn thetide of victory.