At last Bajazet reached the river Araxes, which divides the Turkish territory from Persia. Even after he had passed it he did not feel secure, and, to prevent the Sanjak-beys, who were in pursuit, from crossing, he placed on the bank of the river, as guards, some of his men who had volunteered for that duty. They were, however, easily routed by the Sanjak-beys, who penetrated a considerable distance beyond the Persian frontiers, till they met Persian officers with a large body of cavalry, who demanded what they meant and what they wanted in foreign territory. The Turks replied that they were trying to recover the runaway son of their Sovereign. The Persians retorted that the Turks were violating the treaty by crossing the frontier with arms in their hands. There was peace and friendship, they said, between Shah Tahmasp and their master, and this state of things ought to be respected. The Shah’s decision about Bajazet would be one worthy of himself, and he would loyally fulfil his obligations. Meanwhile they would do well if they departed from a country in which they had no right to be. By these arguments the Turks were induced to return.
Soon afterwards there came to Bajazet envoys sent by the Persian King to salute him and enquire the reason of his coming, and also to ascertain what forces he brought with him.[225] Bajazet told them that he had been driven from his country by his brother’s wrongful acts and his father’s partiality, and had fled to the protection of the King of Persia, as the only sanctuary he had left, and expressed his hope that the Shah, remembering the uncertainties of human fortune, would not refuse the prayers of a suppliant who had no one else to help him. In reply to this appeal he received a message from the Shah, saying that he had acted but inconsiderately in coming to him, as he knew that there was peace and friendship between himself and his father, and also that they had agreed to hold each other’s friends and foes as their own, which terms he felt bound to observe. However, as circumstances had taken this course, he bade him come in God’s name, give him his hand and become his guest; he promised that he would leave nothing undone to restore him to favour with his father.
Accordingly Bajazet paid a visit to the Shah,—a visit which was destined to be his ruin. At first everything presented an aspect of welcome, the Shah’s countenance wore a cheerful and friendly expression, gifts were exchanged as between host and guest, and they had frequent interviews and feasted at the same table, but these courtesies only served as screens for their secret intentions. A marriage alliance was also spoken of, one of the daughters of the Persian King being betrothed to Orchan, Bajazet’s son, and Bajazet’s hopes were confirmed that the Shah would not rest till Solyman had given him the Pashalik of Mesopotamia, Babylonia, or Erzeroum. The Shah represented the advantages of these governments in glowing terms, telling him that he could live there without any fear, since he would be at a distance from his brother and father, while, if he was threatened with any danger, his retreat was secured, as he could depend on the protection of his son’s father-in-law, who would defend him and keep him safe from every possible peril.
The object of such language on the part of the Shah was, in all probability, to prevent Bajazet’s perceiving the danger he was incurring. Indeed he believed himself so sure of Tahmasp’s goodwill, that, when the latter was sending an ambassador to Solyman at Constantinople for the purpose, as was generally believed, of effecting a reconciliation between him and his son, he desired the envoy to tell Solyman, that though he had lost one father in Turkey he had found another in Persia. Whether, however, the Persian King was sincere in his efforts to restore Bajazet to his father’s favour by means of the numerous ambassadors he sent, may be reasonably doubted. For my own part, I consider it more probable that in all this the Shah’s concern for Bajazet’s welfare was pretended rather than genuine, and that his real object was to sound Solyman’s intentions; for in the meantime there was no pause in making all the preparations for his destruction. When they were sufficiently advanced, it was artfully suggested that his present quarters were too small for such a number of men, that provisions were getting scarce, and that it was advisable to distribute them among the neighbouring villages; this arrangement, it was urged, would be a more convenient one in many ways, and especially with regard to the supply of provisions. Shah Tahmasp, who had not his father’s courage, was indeed dreadfully alarmed, fancying that he was cherishing a serpent in his bosom. This is my own opinion, though there are people who maintain that it was not the Shah’s original intention to destroy Bajazet, but that he was forced to do so by the monstrous wickedness of some of the latter’s friends, who, forgetful of the benefits they had received and the ties of hospitality, urged Bajazet to rob him of his kingdom; that unmistakable proofs of such intentions were detected, nay, that an atrocious speech made by one of Bajazet’s chief officers was brought to the King’s ears; namely, ‘What are we about, and why do we hesitate to kill this heretic and seize his throne? Can any one doubt that through his treacherous plots we are in imminent danger of destruction?’ This it was, they say, that induced Shah Tahmasp to stoop to an expedient dictated by necessity rather than by honour.
Though the forces Bajazet had were not large, yet they were warlike, and among them were many brave men who were ready for any adventure; the Persian King was afraid of them, and not without reason either. He knew that his dynasty was one of recent origin, and that it had obtained the throne under the pretence of religion.[226] Who could guarantee that among the numerous nations which owed him allegiance there would not be many persons who were dissatisfied, and consequently ripe for revolution? For them nothing more opportune could occur than Bajazet’s arrival, as he was a bold and vigorous man in the flower of youth, and had the most important qualification for a leader; namely, that his position was desperate. Hitherto, the Shah reflected, he seemed to be more in Bajazet’s power than Bajazet in his. A change must be made, and he must no longer treat him as a guest, but chain him like a wild beast. Nor would this be difficult to accomplish, if his troops were first dispersed, and he were then surprised and seized himself, when none of his men could help him. It was obvious that he could not be captured in open fight without much bloodshed. The Persian troops were enervated by a long peace, and were not concentrated; Bajazet’s, on the other hand, were on the spot, ready for action, and well drilled.
Accordingly it was suggested to Bajazet that he should separate his troops, and all the arguments in favour of such a course were pressed upon him. He felt that the appeal was unanswerable, though some gallant men in his service had the sagacity to see that the proposed arrangement wore a most suspicious appearance. But how could he refuse in his helpless position, when he had no other hope left, when his life was at the mercy of the Shah,—indeed he might deem himself lucky to be alive at all,—and when to doubt his host’s honour might be taken as a sign of the most treacherous intentions? So the poor fellows, who were never to meet again, were conducted to different villages and quartered where the Persians thought fit. After waiting a few days for a favourable opportunity, these scattered detachments were each surrounded by greatly superior forces, and butchered. Their horses, arms, clothes, and all their other effects became the booty of their murderers. At the same time Bajazet was seized while at the Shah’s table, and was thrown into chains. Some people think this violation of the laws of hospitality greatly aggravated the baseness of the act. His children likewise were placed in confinement.
You wished to have the latest news of Bajazet, so here it is for you. As to what is in store for him in the future, I think no one would find it easy to predict. Opinions vary; some people think he will be made a Sanjak-bey, and as such will be given Babylonia or some similar province, on the most distant frontiers of the dominions of the two monarchs. Others place no hope either in Tahmasp or Solyman, considering it all over with Bajazet, who, they think, will either be sent back here for execution, or perish miserably in prison. They argue that the Persian King, when he used force against Bajazet, did not do so without much consideration, fearing no doubt that if that active and high-spirited young man, who was a far better soldier than his brother, should succeed his father on the throne, much mischief would be thereby caused to his kingdom and himself. It would be much more to his advantage, if Selim, who is naturally inclined to gluttony and sloth, should become Sultan, since in that case there is good hope of peace and quiet for many a year. They are of opinion that for these reasons the Shah will never let Bajazet escape alive out of his hands, but will prefer to kill him in his prison; giving out a story, which no one could consider improbable, that the young man’s spirit had given way under confinement, and that he had died from mental depression. However that may be, it is in my judgment impossible for him to hope that one, whom he has so deeply injured, will ever be his friend.
You see different people have different opinions; I consider myself, that, whatever the end of the business may be, it will be a complicated one, as indeed I wish it may, for the success of our negotiations is closely connected with the fortunes of Bajazet. They will not be inclined to turn their arms against us till they see their way out of this difficulty. Even now they are trying to force on me for transmission to the Emperor despatches, and I know not what proposals for peace, which, they want me to believe, are very nearly in accordance with his wishes, but they do not give me any copy of them according to the usual practice, and this omission makes me suspect that they are not sincere. On this account I make a rule of resolutely refusing to forward despatches to the Emperor, without the purport of them being previously communicated to me. But, if after presenting me with a copy they should still deceive me, then I should be in possession of a document, which would at once free me from all responsibility, and convict them of dishonesty. In this course I am determined to persevere, and so to relieve my master from the difficulty of replying to their quibbling despatches, for he will accept no terms of peace that are not honourable. But you will say that by refusing proposals of peace, whatever their nature may be, a step towards war seems to be taken. Well, for my part, I consider it better policy to wait and see what will happen, without committing ourselves to any engagements. Meanwhile I will take the blame of not forwarding the despatches upon myself, and if the Turkish negotiators are disappointed in their hopes with regard to Bajazet’s speedy death, I do not think I shall find much trouble in clearing myself of it. In the other alternative, I shall have somewhat greater difficulties to overcome, but I consider that I shall have very good explanations to offer, and shall be able to assign adequate reasons for all I have done. The Turks are not in the habit of showing resentment towards those who they see are taking pains to manage their master’s affairs to the best of their ability. Besides, the Sultan is getting old, which is another point in my favour, as in the opinion of the Pashas he requires rest, and ought not to be exposed unnecessarily to the hardships of war. As regards myself, the policy I have sketched out must of course involve me in further trouble and vexation; but I feel that I am right, and if matters turn out as I hope, I shall have no reason to regret the sacrifice I am making.
Now you have got a book, not a letter. If I am to blame for this, you are equally so; you imposed the task; the labour bestowed on this despatch was taken at your desire. Complaisance is the only thing I can be blamed for, and yet this between friends is often considered a ground for commendation. I have some hopes however that you will find pleasure in reading what I found pleasure in writing. After I had once commenced my letter I was tempted to spin it out. For whilst writing to you I found that I felt free once more, and fancied myself to be enjoying your society in a far-distant land; you must therefore consider any trifling passages in my letter as the casual chit chat of a crony by your side. A letter has always been thought entitled to the same allowances as conversation. Neither ought to be closely criticised. Amongst friends you may say what first comes uppermost, and the same rule holds good when one is writing to intimate friends; to weigh one’s expressions would be to abandon one’s privileges. Just as public buildings require the perfection of workmanship, while nothing of the sort is expected in domestic offices, so this letter of mine does not pretend to be a work of general public interest, but simply some unpretentious jottings for the benefit of yourself and the friends to whom you may care to show it. If it only pleases you, I for my part am content. My Latin, some one might say, would bear improvement, and also my style. Well, I never said they would not. But what more can you expect of a man than his best? It is my ability, not my will, that is in fault. Besides it is absurd to expect scholarship from this land of barbarism. In fine, you must agree, if you do not despise my present letter, to receive an account of my remaining adventures till I return to Vienna, if, indeed, I ever do return; but whether I shall or not, I will now end and trouble you no further. Farewell.
Constantinople, June 1, 1560.