But if the convent had weathered its first great siege it would soon be confronted by a far more terrible foe. The Turks were steadily overrunning Greece; the Latin lords of the archipelago and the mainland frequently sent desperate appeals to the bailiff of the Morea, while the empire itself was very near the end, reduced to Constantinople and a few towns. In 1451 the most ferocious of all sultans ascended the Osmanli throne – Mehmet II, who on several occasions swore he would conquer Rhodes after Constantinople. Probably the fall of Byzantium and the hero's death of the eighty-first Roman emperor in 1453 were more keenly mourned by the knights than anyone, if only as apocalyptic confirmation of the Latin East's doom. Grand Master Jacques de Milly launched a series of highly successful raids on the Turkish coast while Mehmet was busy subjugating the remnants of Romania. Then in 1462 Pius II's crusade failed to materialize. Broken-hearted, the pope died. Holy War was dead. Although the brethren foiled an Egyptian attempt to conquer Cyprus, the kingdom's affairs were deteriorating, and it was no doubt a growing sense of isolation which caused the increase of the convent to 400 knights in 1466. Careful thought had been given to their deployment; in 1460 the garrison of Bodrun was raised to fifty and that of Kos to twenty-five, while forty were assigned to guardship duty. Fortunately the Turks were distracted by a long war with Venice, which continued until 1479.
The Grand Commander of Cyprus in 1467 was Fra' John Langstrother, an English brother of boundless ambition whose early history was a good example of a successful career in the Order. Born in 1416, by 1448 he was a commander and Lieutenant-Turcopolier, castellan of Rhodes in 1453, Bailiff of Egle in 1464 and Grand Prior of England in 1469. Fra' John had already been appointed the kingdom's treasurer by the Earl of Warwick, who had taken over the government from Edward IV. Edward later dismissed Langstrother, but in 1471 'My Lord of St John's' supported Henry VI, commanding part of the Lancastrian van at Tewkesbury. After the defeat he took refuge in the abbey, but was dragged out and beheaded.3
The case of Ireland shows just how anarchic and unprofitable were some European priories. Here most commanderies were farmed out to laymen, while Irish brethren were never seen at Rhodes, being far too involved in tribal politics. The nadir was reached during the lordship of Edward IV, when Fra' James Keating became prior. Little better than a bandit, on one occasion he seized Dublin Castle. He ignored the General Citation of 1480 and in any case never sent Responsions (revenues) to the convent. Grand Master d'Aubusson declared him deposed in 1482 but, when Fra' Marmaduke Lumley came to take his place, Keating promptly imprisoned his unwary brother. Fra' James was still disastrously active in Henry VII's reign.4
Most brothers were petite noblesse – in England, gentry. English brethren rarely bore great names, though even if their fathers had been merchants who purchased land and arms or their brothers were apprenticed to a trade there was a very real gap between knight and burgess. Perhaps the fifteenth century had not evolved the meticulous stratification of seize quartiers, but in that strange pageant world a man's occupation had almost mystical symbolism, and all military brethren enjoyed the glamour of aristocracy.
Chivalry still flourished in northern Europe, but as an aesthetic cult whose devotees belonged to court orders such as the Golden Fleece, the Star, the Porcupine, the Garter. Living an Arthurian dream and taking fantastic vows, their arena was the tournament rather than the battlefield. If these exotic fraternities met at 'Chapters', clad in 'habits', and attended corporate services in their own churches, their ideals were those of the 'Morte d'Arthur', not the cloister. Brethren at Rhodes living hard, simple lives bore small resemblance to the weird incroyables of the Burgundian court.
If there were sinners among them, weak 'from the strength of evil passions', they remained essentially men of God. In the Liber Missarum ad usum Ecclesiae Hospitalis Sancti Johannis, compiled at Rhodes in 1465, the feast of St John was celebrated with three Masses – the last pontifical – at midnight, at dawn and at full light; a liturgical distinction normally reserved for Christmas Day.5 Before the end of the century a Cardinal Master would preside in the conventual church wearing cope and mitre. Even today a modern chaplain of the Religion can write, 'for the knight the poor are nothing less than Christ, incarnate in their suffering and in them he takes care of Christ'.6
The net, however, was closing. In 1463 the Lord of Lesbos sent a desperate appeal for help, but, though the brethren rushed to defend his capital, Mytilene, it fell by treachery. In 1470 the Turks descended on Euboea (Negropont), whereupon the Order sent a flotilla under Fra' Pierre d'Aubusson to relieve its Venetian garrison – without success, as the republic's admiral lost his nerve. The knights concentrated on strengthening their own island. They had to face formidable new troops, the yeni cheri. These Janissaries were recruited from a compulsory tribute of Christian boys, but developed into a crack unit employed for assaults or forlorn hopes; before 1500 they never numbered more than 2,000. Not only did they forgo wine, gambling and whores but they were forbidden to marry and they slept in dormitories, being affiliated to the Bektashi sect of dervishes whose originator, Haji Bektash of Khurasan, had blessed their foundation. Armed with spear and yataghan, they presented a strange, disturbing appearance when attacking, led by their chief officers the Chorbaji (soup-maker) and the Kaveji (coffee-maker) in an odd, minuet-like marching step – three paces forward, a pause, then three paces forward again – to the sound of a braying military band, the Mehtar. Over mail shirts they wore a uniform of green-and-yellow cloaks with white ostrich plumes and tassels hanging from high white mitres; their standard was a flowing banner of white silk hung with horsetails. But their performance was no less remarkable than their appearance.
11. Fra' Guillaume Caoursin (an eye-witness) presents his bestseller account of the siege of Rhodes in 1480 to the Grand Master Fra' Pierre d'Aubusson
By 1479 Mehmet was ready to settle accounts. He had a worthy opponent in the Grand Master, Pierre d'Aubusson. Born in 1423, this fifth son of a great Limousin family had entered the Order in his late twenties, having already seen military service against the English.7 Despite his northern origins, he probably by now had more in common with the princes of Renaissance Italy than with those of late medieval France or ducal Burgundy – he was enough of a Quattrocento intellectual to employ the humanist poet Gian Maria Filelfo as Latin secretary. Remarkable as soldier, administrator and diplomat, Fra' Pierre's greatest gifts were realism and leadership, and he combined magnetic appeal with a magnificent appearance. Both brethren and Rhodians were devoted to him. Mehmet sent an ambassador to lull the brethren's suspicions, but Pierre was not deceived. In all he could muster perhaps 600 brethren with 1,500 mercenaries, Rhodian militia and privateer sailors, while since his election he had been strengthening fortifications, deepening ditches, demolishing buildings close to the city walls, installing artillery and laying up stocks of food and ammunition.
Turkish agents, however, considered the garrison hopelessly inadequate. Mehmet appointed an apostate member of the Byzantine imperial family, Misac Palaeologus Pasha, as Vizier and commander of the expedition. In April 1480 lookouts on Rhodes sighted enemy warships, and on 23 May 70,000 men landed at the bay of Trianda while the port was blockaded by fifty galleys. Misac pitched camp on the hill of St Etienne, overlooking Rhodes. The key to the siege was Fort St Nicholas on the promontory flanking the outer harbour: once it had fallen, Rhodes could be starved into surrender. A large Turkish battery was built on the opposite shore, mounting three brass 'basilisks', the period's howitzers, discharging stone balls over two feet in diameter.
These guns were directed by Meister Georg, a German artillery expert, who suddenly appeared before the walls claiming sanctuary 'for the sake of conscience'. In fact he was a double agent spurred on by bribes to discover where artillery fire would do most damage, and he tried to panic the garrison by describing the besieging army's vast size and ferocity. All believed that if Rhodes fell they would be impaled alive, for the Turks had brought large quanti
ties of sharpened stakes. But the Grand Master saw through this feigned deserter and later hanged him.8
When his guns had battered a wide breach in the fort's walls, the Vizier ordered the first assault. Turkish galleys sailed in to land troops on both sides of the mole. Wading ashore, their feet were impaled on ships' nails and old knives set in baulks of timber laid on the sea bed.9 Halting in confusion, they made excellent targets for hand gunners and arbalestiers, while in the breach they were decimated by cross-fire from flanking batteries, before meeting a counter-charge led by d'Aubusson. His helmet knocked off by a cannon ball, Fra' Pierre joked about improving prospects of promotion and then returned to the fight. Eventually the enemy galleys fled before a flotilla of fire ships, whereupon Misac called off his thoroughly demoralized men, leaving 600 dead.
The distance between Fort St Nicholas and the opposite shore was hardly 150 yards. The Turks therefore constructed a pontoon, and one night a small boat fastened an anchor in the rocks under the mole round which a cable was passed to haul the floating bridge across. However, an English sailor dived in and removed the anchor. Next came an assault by night, on 18 June, the Turks attacking all along the mole in a swarm of light craft and towing their pontoon into position, galleys pounding away at the fort. The darkness was lit up by the weird glow of naphtha and molten lead, flickering gunfire and the flames of incendiary ships; several enemy galleys were set alight, garrison artillery sinking at least four. The battle raged from midnight until ten o'clock the following morning. It was reported that the Turks lost 2,500 men – including the officer who had led the storming party, a son-in-law of the sultan. Misac was so discouraged that he did nothing for three days but sit, brooding, in his tent.
He had ordered a general bombardment at the beginning of the siege before concentrating on the south-eastern section of the ramparts, which contained the Jewish quarter. Even if the Master's palace was in ruins, strategically the building was unimportant – though the destruction of the magistral wine cellar upset some brethren – but here the walls were old and not very solid. The enemy's batteries thundered ceaselessly, protected by earthworks and timber shelters, the largest mounting eight brass basilisks, while their sappers undermined the foundations. As the walls soon began to crumble, d'Aubusson built a ditch and a brick wall behind them. Everybody took a hand in the work, citizens and knights toiling day and night, the Master himself setting an example. A rain of incendiary arrows and grenades started fires all over Rhodes, so he sent women and children into the cellars or a shelter roofed with baulks of timber. He also ordered the construction of an old-fashioned trebuchet;10 sardonically christened 'the tribute', this devilish machine threw rocks so large they splintered wooden battery shelters like matchwood and opened up mines.
12. The Siege of Rhodes, 1480
Some Italian brethren lost their nerve and found a spokesman in the magistral secretary, Filelfo, who begged d'Aubusson to negotiate. The Master called them together, saying coldly that it was still possible for a galley to run the blockade and they could leave at once, then bullied and coaxed them into a tougher mood. Misac resorted to Byzantine methods; two 'deserters', an Albanian and a Dalmatian, were sent into the city with the news that Mehmet was on his way with 100,000 men. D'Aubusson refused to believe it, and they attempted to enlist Filelfo in an attempt to murder him. Immediately the Italian informed his Master, and the wretched men were lynched by the garrison.
All this time the bombardment of the south-east wall continued. One battery was stormed under cover of darkness by the Italians, who returned with Turkish heads on their pikes, but the Vizier had the moat filled with rubble. After six weeks only a heap of collapsed masonry with a breach wide enough for cavalry to ride through stood between the brethren and their enemies. Misac's envoy, Suleiman Bey, came to the breach, declaring a good defence had earned good terms: by surrendering, the garrison could become Sultan Mehmet's allies, by resisting they would be annihilated – the breach was open, 40,000 crack troops waiting. Fra' Antoine Gautier, castellan of Rhodes, answered that if the walls were down there were fresh defences behind them, that attackers could only expect the same reception they had had on the St Nicholas mole, that the sultan had an odd way of making friends and that anyway his brethren were ready for an assault. For a day and a night every Turkish gun available pounded the breach. After the bombardment had stopped, an hour before dawn on 28 July, a single mortar was fired as signal, and scaling parties crept forward silently. The exhausted, deafened garrison was asleep and the few guards easily rushed – within minutes the Turks had captured not only the breach but the bastion of Italy, sending word to the Pasha to bring up more troops.
Fra' Pierre was there at once, gripping a half-pike, shouting to his brethren that they must save Rhodes or be buried in its ruins. First up the ladder on to the mound of rubble, he was knocked down twice but climbed back. Soon knights and Turks were at each other's throats all along the shattered rampart. Usually armour made up for lack of numbers; great elbow guards could catch and snap a sword and at close quarters a man-at-arms would rip his lightly armed opponent to shreds. However, now it seemed that the defenders, reeling from fatigue, would be pushed off the walls. Elbowing forward in his gilt armour11 followed by three standard-bearers and a handful of brethren the Master used himself as a living banner to rally the convent, whereupon Misac sent in a squad of Janissaries with orders to kill him.
Soon the Grand Master was almost down, wounded in three places; the tide turned as brethren rushed to his rescue, but not before he collapsed with two more terrible wounds, including a punctured lung. Brethren hurled themselves on the astonished Turks, who suddenly broke; not only were they swept off the ramparts and out of the breach – where many were jammed in and killed – but the Vizier's camp was stormed and his standard captured.
Misac gave up in despair. The garrison claimed that 3,500 Turks who had fallen swelled his casualties to 9,000, the defenders having killed more than twice their own number, not to mention 30,000 wounded. Even if the Vizier had known that more than half the brethren had died, including most bailiffs, the news that the Master's wounds were not mortal was sufficient disappointment.12 His army's spirit was broken and, when a Neapolitan carrack and a papal brigantine ran the blockade, the humiliated Turks burnt their stores and set sail, three months after investing the port.
Plainly the Turkish defeat was a miracle, and as at Marienburg the brethren had seen Our Lady with a host of angels, accompanied by a familiar figure in camel hair – John the Baptist; the vision was gratifyingly corroborated by tactful prisoners. Pierre d'Aubusson recovered to find himself the hero of Europe.13
Mehmet, infuriated, began preparations for a fresh expedition, but died in May 1481. Though he had intended his younger son Djem to succeed him, the elder Bayezid was more popular and reduced his brother to hiding in the Karamanian mountains. Djem took the desperate step of begging d'Aubusson for refuge, and a galley was sent to collect him; he arrived at Rhodes in midsummer, to be received with the honours due to a reigning sovereign. Cruel, treacherous and a born soldier, this Osmanli was as formidable as his father and, had he gained the throne, would have turned on his hosts without compunction. Bayezid II was the best sultan the brethren could hope for, a pious Moslem preoccupied with building mosques, and naturally peaceable. Understandably the Grand Master expected diplomatic capital and shortly afterwards sent Djem to France, where he stayed in distinguished confinement at the larger commanderies. Pierre obtained a pension for him from Bayezid of 30,000 gold ducats – besides an annual indemnity of 10,000 for the Religion. Finally in 1488 this fainéant sultan was handed over to Pope Innocent VIII, and in 1495 died, reputedly poisoned by the Borgia pontiff, Alexander VI.
In 1485 Fra' Pierre was made cardinal and papal legate. Not only did he build a church in thanksgiving for his miraculous victory but he tightened the Religion's discipline. Some brethren had begun to dress in silks and velvets with gold chains and jewelled scabbards; these were
rigorously proscribed and they had to wear their habit, black cassock, cloak and skullcap, with a small white cross on the cloak's left breast. European commanders might have lived as rich country gentlemen yet the visitor to Rhodes knew he was in a monastery; contemporary illustrations show a habited, monkish community in chapter, listening to the scriptures in the refectory or working in their hospital. Meanwhile the city's walls were rebuilt and new towers added. Fort St Nicholas became a great star-shaped bastion, its angled gun-emplacements making frontal assault impossible. Heavier cannon were installed, while the convent raised its permanent garrison to 450 brethren in 1501. That year all Jews were expelled as constituting a potential fifth column. Pierre's criterion was survival and, for the same reason that he expelled Hebrews, he courted Rhodians, admitting them to the Religion, even to bailiwicks.
The Monks of War Page 23