Soon afterwards he left to bombard Byzantium.
The Sultan was right in his belief that the world's history does not depend on the tears of women. It was decided a million years ago that this rotten country was to fall to pieces, but no one man was empowered to hasten the destruction before the allotted day and year. Just when the siege was completed the frightful news reached Bajazet that the avenging Timur had accepted his challenge. Impregnable Szivasz had fallen, and his greatest hero, his son, had been killed by the enemy! Bajazet at once suspended the bombardment of Byzantium. He had neither time nor desire to attack the Christian Churches when an enemy, mightier than himself, approached. Byzantium, therefore, had for a short time to be spared the fate of having its name changed to Stamboul, just as, 450 years later, it was spared from being rechanged to Byzantium, though the change was already looming in the distance.
Bajazet was quite certain that he would take Byzantium. It was a dream from which he could not free himself until it was fulfilled. Every one was against the war. The soothsayers prophesied evil to come. His leaders warned him not to commence the bombardment until he had finished with Tamerlan. But he would not be dissuaded. The soothsayer who advised him to start against Timur before proceeding to Byzantium was dismissed from his presence.
When Timur approached towards Szivasz the Sultan's advisers again implored him.
"Do not let Szivasz fall, or your son be lost!"
When he was tired of hearing this he had a few of them killed, but the warning did not die with them. Though his advisers could no longer speak to him, a sad and moaning song was heard amongst the soldiers, the refrain of which was, "Do not let Szivasz fall, or your son be lost!" The Sultan had to listen to this nightly from his tent, and when he forbade it to be sung in his camp, it was passed on to the shepherds in the Izmid mountains. In the silent night, and in the far distance, the wailing of the shepherds' horn was heard from the Pontus as far as the Sultan's tent, "Do not let Szivasz fall, or your son be lost!"
Bajazet had the shepherds driven into the mountains, or killed, in order that he could no longer hear the cursed song! But he heard afterwards what he little wanted to believe, that both Szivasz and his hero had fallen, and had been destroyed by the hands of his enemy. Bajazet strewed ashes on his head! This was his own fault.
He no longer attacked the gates of Byzantium. He left the subways in the midst of their construction, crossed the Pontus with his army, collected his generals and all his war-utensils, and was ready to start on his big and revengeful expedition. As he anchored near the Izmid mountain, a shepherd was seen close by, resting on his crook. Bajazid exclaimed to him: "Now blow with your horn that song to me: 'Do not let Szivasz fall, or your son be lost!'" The shepherd obeyed his commands and blew the sad and melancholy sounds, which were re-echoed in the mountains. They found an echo in the heart of the Sultan, who cried out, with grief and despair, that he had let his bravest son die; and from that moment the trumpeters were ordered to constantly play the melancholy song during the expedition to Szivasz.