The Great Sieges of History

by William Robson

FIFTH SIEGE, A.D. 1453.

We come now to what some historians have termed the greatest event of a period the most surprisingly conspicuous in the history of mankind. We agree with them that the subversion of the Christian empire of Constantinople by the Turks was a great event, but not the greatest: the invention of printing, the discovery of America, and the commencement of the Reformation belong to the same half-century; and either of these we conceive to be of much more importance than whether Constantinople should be under such degraded Christians as the Greeks, or be subjected to the worshippers of the Prophet of Mecca.

Constantinople no longer preserved anything but the proud remembrance of its ancient splendour. In that capital, once so flourishing and so respected, there still breathed an immense population; but that multitude, without force or without courage, seemed only to be waiting to crouch willingly under the strong hand that might be held forth to enchain them. Frivolous acquirements, agreeable arts, preferred by indolence and effeminacy to the exercise of essential duties or useful labours, had annihilated love of country, and dried up the springs of life of this unfortunate empire. They wrote and they disputed: questions of philosophy and theological quarrels were the sole concerns of the lazy citizens, who had never stood in such pressing need of providing for their own safety. Instead of being the heart of an empire, the walls of Constantinople had become frontiers; it had no dominions beyond them. The enemy appeared at their gates: during the eight hundred years that Mahometanism had progressed, the city had often been threatened, and in vain; but the harvest was now ripe, the time was come, and the sickle, in the hands of Mahomet II., was employed in earnest workmanlike fashion. He began by constructing the castle of the Dardanelles on the Bosphorus. Constantine Palæologus, who then reigned, in vain was anxious to prevent this: his own subjects thwarted his correct views; their presumption equalled their blindness; they boasted that they could destroy that fortress the moment it was any annoyance to them. Constantine is an exemplification of the proverb, that it is not the last step of a journey that creates the fatigue, nor the last ruler of an empire that brings about its ruin: few of the predecessors of the emperor had better qualities than he displayed in circumstances of great emergency; and had they all been like him, those circumstances would never have occurred. The subversion of the empire was not due to the doctrines of Mahomet or the valour of their followers—it was an internal decay, produced by the vices and weaknesses of ages.

Five or six thousand men, taken from the very dregs of the people, composed the national force, which was augmented by a few European troops, under Justinian, a Genoese. These were the only resource of a city inhabited by men incapable of defending themselves, and who trusted entirely to a few mercenary strangers, who still deigned to protect them. All the Greeks individually boasted of their country and its fame; and yet not one of them would have sacrificed to its welfare his pleasures, his luxuries, his comforts, or his opinions. Threatened by the most frightful of misfortunes, they awaited the fatal blow with an insensible stupidity, like the animals who still continue feeding at the foot of the altar which is about to be stained with their blood. The emperor tried to induce them to contribute a portion of their riches to the defence of the state: but he could obtain nothing. In times of prosperity, princes had levied tributes destined solely to swell their treasury or to be wasted in superfluities. The people, plundered without occasion, had unfortunately learnt to confound the abuse of authority with the real wants of a government. As long as the supreme power could make itself respected, it dared to require all: it was no longer feared—everything was denied to it. In this case the solitary virtue of Constantine was powerless—the corruption was deep and universal—a Hercules could not have cleansed the Augæan stable; and, though endowed with many good qualities, Constantine was not a Hercules. Palæologus and his courtiers favoured, at least in appearance, the union of the two churches of the East and West. The holy father promised to send some galleys and troops. The Greeks still further flattered themselves that the exhortations of the pontiff would prevail upon the Christian princes to undertake a crusade: that was their last hope. Cardinal Isidore came to Constantinople as legate from the Holy See. He celebrated divine service in the church of St. Sophia, according to the liturgy of Rome. This threw the whole city into a state of alarm. The people flocked in crowds to the retreat of the monk Gennadius, to consult with him what was to be done. The solitary affixed his reply to the door of his cell. He declared in this document that the agreement drawn up at Florence was not orthodox. He at the same time announced the greatest misfortunes to those who should adopt the impious reconciliation of the Greeks with the Latins. Immediately the devotees, the nuns who were under the direction of Gennadius, the abbots, the priests, the citizens, the soldiers—for the contagion spread to all orders—joined in one unanimous anathema! The church of St. Sophia was considered a defiled place. Communication with the Latins ceased: they would prefer, they said, to see the turban of Mahomet displayed, to the appearance of the Roman purple, or the cardinal’s hat.

But now the sultan, having employed two years in preparations, marched towards Constantinople at the head of an army of four hundred thousand men. This fearful multitude was composed, for the most part, of newly-conquered nations, which he dragged after him. Out of all these he had not more than thirty thousand horse and sixty thousand foot of disciplined troops. The rest were nothing but a collection of slaves, torn by force from the places of their birth, without arms and almost naked, who were obliged to be driven to the combat by strokes of the whip or the scimitar. In all battles they were placed in front, in order to fatigue the enemy with the shedding of blood: the regular reserved troops were then to take advantage of their exhaustion; in sieges they served as fascines, to fill up ditches. Such was the manner of fighting with the Turks, so that when they came in contact with the Christians, it was generally remarked they had the disadvantage at the commencement of a battle, but won it at last.

Whilst Mahomet was investing Constantinople by land, his fleet, consisting of two hundred and fifty sail, advanced to the Dardanelles. This prodigious number of vessels could not, however, prevent four ships from the isle of Chio, after having fought for a whole day against the united strength of the Ottoman, and killed a thousand of their men, from entering the port of Constantinople, and there landing a few troops and some provisions. Enormous iron chains barred the entrance of the Turkish ships. It is affirmed that Mahomet, to surmount this obstacle, had recourse to an expedient till that time unheard of, and which has never been repeated since: he transported by land eighty galleys in the course of one night, and at daybreak launched them into the interior of the basin of the port, before the eyes of the besieged, terrified and astonished at this extraordinary spectacle. The manner in which this transportation was effected, which savours of the marvellous, proves to what an extent the conqueror carried his despotism, and could overcome difficulty by his mere will. The vessels were drawn, by means of machines and human arms, along planks thoroughly greased, which covered a space of road two leagues in length. The sultan had at his command the most skilful engineers of Europe and Asia. The progress of these vessels offered a most curious exhibition. They were commanded by pilots, had their sails unfurled as if upon the sea, and advanced over a hilly piece of ground, by the light of torches and flambeaux, and to the sound of trumpets and clarions, without the Genoese, who inhabited Galata, daring to offer any opposition to the passage. The Greeks, fully occupied in guarding their ramparts, had no suspicion of the design of the enemy. They could not comprehend what could be the object or the cause of all the tumult that was heard during the whole night from the sea-shore, till at dawn they beheld the Mussulman standards flying in their port.

A Hungarian, who had not been able to procure employment among the Greeks, founded for Mahomet some pieces of artillery that would carry balls weighing two hundred pounds. A modern author judiciously observes that each of these balls would have required nearly a hundred pounds of powder, of which only a fifteenth part would have taken fire at the moment of the explosion. These enormous pieces of ordnance appeared more formidable than they really were. The use of artillery fired by gunpowder was not more than a hundred years old; and, with a true Eastern imagination, Mahomet II. wished to have the largest and most powerful cannon that had ever been made. He was satisfied with the answer to the first question he put to the Hungarian artist. “Am I able to cast a cannon capable of throwing a ball or stone of sufficient size to batter the walls of Constantinople?”—“I am not ignorant of their strength, but were they more solid than those of Babylon, I could oppose an engine of superior power: the position and management of that engine must be left to your engineers.” On this assurance a foundry was established at Adrianople. An enormous piece of ordnance was produced within three months; its bore was twelve palms, and it was capable of throwing a ball or stone weighing six hundred pounds. It was tried in a vacant place before the new palace of Adrianople; but notice of its being fired was obliged to be published on the preceding day, to prevent the effects of astonishment and fear. The explosion is said to have been heard over a circuit of a hundred furlongs; the ball was cast by the gunpowder above a mile, and when it fell it buried itself a fathom deep in the ground. To convey this cannon, thirty waggons were linked together, and it was drawn by a team of sixty horses: two hundred men walked by the sides of it, to poise it and keep it steady; two hundred and fifty men went before, to level the way and repair the bridges; and it required two months to draw it a distance of one hundred and fifty miles.

The Turks, masters of the port, established batteries on the side next the sea, whilst the army pressed the city on the land side. They employed trenches, mines, and countermines. The besieged, who defended themselves with some spirit at first, repaired the breaches with incredible diligence. They even made some successful sorties. The hopes of being succoured by Huniades supported them for some time. Mahomet began to relax in his efforts; it is even said that he had thoughts of raising the siege. At length, however, he resolved to make one more attempt. Before he proceeded to the general assault, he proposed to Constantine to leave him the Peloponnesus, upon condition of his giving up the imperial city. He was anxious, he said, to prevent the destruction of Constantinople. The emperor replied he would rather be buried beneath the ruins of his capital. Both Christians and Mahometans prepared themselves, by fast and prayer, for the action of that morrow which was to decide the fate of the two empires. It was the 29th of May. On the evening before, Mahomet gave notice that he should abandon the plunder of the city to his soldiers, only strictly commanding that they should not set fire to any of the edifices.

The besieged from their walls contemplated with terror the numbers of the enemy about to assail them. The disproportion was so great, that every Christian calculated he should have to combat fifty or sixty Turks. The sultan commenced the attack about three o’clock in the morning, by sending to the assault thirty thousand of his worst troops, in order to fatigue the besieged, and that the heaped-up bodies of this multitude might fill the ditches, and render access to the parapets the more easy. The stick and the scimitar were necessary to compel this forlorn hope to march: they all perished. At sunrise Mahomet ordered the trumpets to sound a fresh signal; the artillery thundered from all quarters, and quickly drove away all who had appeared on the walls. The Janissaries rushed to the breach, uttering horrible cries. Mahomet rode behind his troops upon a superb charger, in order to make them march forward with the greater celerity. Never was greater courage exhibited: the first Janissary who mounted the walls of Constantinople was to be made a pacha, and be loaded with wealth. Some climbed over the ruins of the walls, through a shower of arrows, darts, stones, and fire-balls. Standing on the tops of their ladders, others fought with the besieged, who repulsed them with their pikes, whilst others raised themselves upon the shoulders of their comrades to get to the breach. The whole city was busied in succouring its brave defenders; women, children, and old men brought them stones, joists, and bars of red-hot iron to launch at the Turks. The cannons, directed to the points where the Turks were thickest, all at once opened their ranks, and the Ottomans, who already touched the summit of the walls, were hurled into the ditches. Tor two hours they fought thus, with a fury equal to the danger of the besieged and the value of the city to be conquered; a cloud of arrows, dust, and smoke shrouded the combatants. Thirty Janissaries at length succeeded in mounting the walls, and killed and overthrew all who came in their way: they were soon followed by a crowd of daring comrades, animated by their example. In an instant the air resounded with cries of victory: the Turks had penetrated to the port. Zagan Pacha, who commanded the attack there, reproached the sailors with being less brave than the land troops. Encouraged by the success of the Janissaries, they made one more furious charge upon the Greeks. The latter wavered in their resistance; the sailors gained possession of a tower, and hoisted the standard of the crescent, whilst other Turks hewed an opening with their axes at several of the city gates, through which the rest of the army poured in crowds. Constantine, accompanied by a few of his guards and some faithful servants, threw himself, sword in hand, into the thickest of the Ottoman battalions. Less afflicted by the loss of his crown than by the terror of being loaded with irons and led in triumph through Asia, he continued fighting bravely, when a Turk cut off the half of his face with a stroke of his scimitar, and gave him the death he was seeking. With him fell the empire of the East, which had existed eleven hundred and forty-three years. One Constantine had founded it; another of the same name, not less brave but less fortunate, saw it perish. Mahomet caused his body to be sought for, and rendered it all the honours due to the sovereign of a great empire. More than forty thousand men were killed in this day’s conflict, and more than sixty thousand loaded with chains. Neither age nor sex, nor object ever so holy, was respected during three days in this unfortunate city; palaces, cloisters, sacred edifices, and private houses, were stained with the blood of their wretched inhabitants, and disgraced by all the crimes that barbarism, cruelty, and lust could devise. At the end of three days, order and discipline succeeded to carnage. Mahomet restored liberty to many of his captives, sent them back to their houses, promised them his protection, and engaged them to continue to cultivate the arts and commerce in a city he had chosen as the capital of his empire. This great event happened in the year 768 of the Hegira, and in the year of Christ 1453; in the reign of Charles VII. of France, and of Henry VI. of England.