The hand of Providence

by J. H. Ward

Constantinople.

The history of this city is very remarkable, and runs far back into the mist of antiquity. Long before the Christian era it was a place of considerable trade and political importance. Here the barbarians from the coast of the Black sea came to barter their furs for the products of more favored regions. Near this point Alexander the Great crossed the Bosphorus on his great campaign of eastern conquest. In the second century before Christ, the Romans having subdued the neighboring countries, built a fort on the site of the ancient city and named it Byzantium.

The Roman emperor, Constantine the Great, enlarged and beautified the city and made it the capital of the Roman empire, and in honor of himself changed the name to Constantinople. After his death the Roman empire was divided, and Constantinople continued to be the capital of the eastern division.

For more than one thousand years it was the residence of the Caesars and the commercial metropolis of the world.

Owing to the religious rivalry of Rome it was taken and partly burned, by the Crusaders, in A. D. 1205. But the most memorable siege it has ever endured was in A. D. 1453, when it fell into the hands of the Ottoman Turks. By a strange coincidence a Constantine gave his name to the city, and a Constantine reigned at its fall.

It was on the morning of April 6th, A. D. 1453. that Mahomet II., gave the signal for the attack, and the Turkish cannon (then a new invention) thundered against the walls of the city. For fifty days the siege was carried on with little success. At last, food was getting scarce, and the pangs of hunger were sorely felt by the Christians within the city. But hope revived as away on the sea of Marmora, they spied five great ships well laden with supplies and with the Christian flag unfurled. Onward the vessels flew before the breeze, but what a sight met them as they neared the port! Three hundred Turkish ships were drawn up in a line across the straits, each filled with troops and eager for the fight. But there were brave hearts in those five gallant Christian ships, full willing to meet the outnumbering enemy. Gaily they careened before the swelling breeze, and steering straight for the Turkish line bore down upon the foe. Suddenly from the Christian ranks there burst a joyous shout, as the Turkish ships first wavered and then fled. In vain the fierce sultan, Mahomet II., mad with rage, called upon his captains to make good the fight. But the rent was made, and amid a hundred thousand Christian cheers the succoring ships sailed in victoriously to the Golden Horn, and many a mother's heart was glad as she closely clasped her half-famished child.

A strong chain had meanwhile been placed across the harbor, to prevent the entrance of the Turkish fleet. But Mahomet was determined not to be baffled. In the silence of the night he caused eighty boats to be dragged ten miles across the neck of land that divides the sea of Marmora from the tip of the Golden Horn. Rafts were then made, on which cannon were floated to bombard the city from the harbor.

By the 29th of May all was ready for the final battle. The great Byzantine empire, once foremost in the powers of the world, had shrunk into the narrow limits of a few square miles.