The last mine dug by the Turks was found on May 25. This, says Barbaro, was the most dangerous of all, because the miners got under the wall, and if powder had been employed, it would have brought down a portion, and have made an opening into the city.[343]
Altogether, says Tetaldi, the Turks had made fourteen attempts to undermine the walls, but the Christians had listened, had heard and detected them, and had either smoked out the Turks, destroyed them with stink pots, let in water on them, or had fought them hand to hand underground.[344] In all cases they had succeeded in preventing any dangerous explosion. The attempt to gain an entrance by mining had failed. In the words of Critobulus, Mahomet was now convinced that mining was vain and useless labour and expense, and that it was the cannon which would do everything.[345]
On the 23rd bad news reached the city. The small brigantine which had been sent out on May 3 returned. Once more, flying the Turkish flag, she ran the blockade of the Dardanelles and the entry of the Bosporus, her crew disguised as Turkish sailors. The Turks, however, near the city recognised and tried to catch her, but before they could bring their vessels to the boom, it was opened, and the brave little ship was once more safely in the Golden Horn.
Return of brigantine. Failure to find Venetian fleet.
Unfortunately, her crew had to report their failure to find the Venetian fleet. They had, nevertheless, done their work gallantly. Like the men, forty years later, under Columbus, the sailors appear to have had a voice in determining what their ship should do. Having completed their task and decided that it was useless to search any longer for Loredano, a proposal was made to return to Constantinople. To this some of the crew objected. They professed to believe, perhaps did believe, that the city, if not already captured, would be taken to a certainty before they could reach it. They had done their best; why should they run the gauntlet again and return to the doomed city, since they could do no good? The greater number, however, were true to their engagement, and their answer has the best quality of seaman-like loyalty about it: ‘Whether the city be taken or not; whether it is to life or to death, our duty is to return,’ and in consequence the brigantine made sail once more for the Golden Horn.[346]
Supernatural omens.
During these days—that is, somewhere between May 22 and 26—certain events occurred of which mention is made by several writers.
Though we may regard the narrative of these events mainly as evidence of the superstition of the age, they have to be taken into account, inasmuch as they affected the spirit both of besiegers and besieged. The narratives are vague and not altogether reconcilable, but Critobulus, a man writing with exemplary carefulness long after the siege, probably gives the most accurate summary of what happened, though his account, like all others, is tinctured by the superstition of the time. He states that three or four days before the general assault, when all available citizens, men and women, were going in solemn procession through the city carrying with them a statue of the Virgin, the image fell from the hands of the bearers. It fell as if it had been lead. It was nearly impossible to raise it, and the task was only accomplished by the aid of the fervent prayers of priests and of all present. The fall itself created fear, and was taken to be an omen of the fall of the city. But this impression was deepened when, as the procession continued on its way, there happened a violent storm of thunder and lightning, followed by torrential rain. The priests could not make headway against the flood. The incident was manifestly supernatural. On the following day the impression was still further accentuated by the very unusual occurrence in Constantinople at the end of May of a thick fog, which lasted till evening. The cloud of fog gave complete confirmation of the impression that God had abandoned the city, because, as Critobulus remarks, the Divinity hides His presence in the clouds when He descends upon the earth.[347]
But the phenomenon of a light which appeared to settle over Hagia Sophia alarmed both sides. The sultan himself appears to have considered it an unfavourable omen, until the braver or more sceptical of his followers, without denying the evident fact that it was a heaven-sent omen, turned the difficulty by declaring that it was unfavourable to the Greeks. Within the city the besieged were even more alarmed than the Turks.
It is difficult to say what the phenomenon was. Men in that age expected omens and signs in the heavens and expressed their disappointment if none were vouchsafed to them. Writing, as all the narrators did, after the siege, they would look back to recall what were the signs of the divine displeasure, and they did not fail to find them. Around the story of some atmospheric phenomenon there grew a large myth, until we find The Moscovite recording that the light of heaven illuminated all the city; that the inhabitants, believing it to be the reflection of a fire caused by the Turks, ran towards Hagia Sophia and found flames bursting out of its upper windows. These flames englobed the dome and met in a single blaze which rose towards heaven and there disappeared. The patriarch and the chief dignitaries of the Church and members of the senate were so impressed with the tidings of these wonderful signs that they went next day in a body to the emperor to advise him to leave with the empress. The patriarch reminded Constantine of well-known and ancient predictions regarding the fall of the empire, and named witnesses of the miracle. This new and terrible augury meant that the grace and goodness of God had abandoned the city, and that it was decreed to be delivered to the enemy. When the emperor learned the terrible news he fell to the ground in a faint. He was revived with aromatic water, and when he was pressed to leave the city gave the answer, ‘If it is the will of God, whither can we fly before His anger?’ He would die with his people.