The world's leading conquerors

by Wilson Lloyd Bevan

There was little chance of permanent success so long as the princes and states of the West with their divergent interests, dynastic or commercial, confronted such a solidly compacted power as that raised up by Osman. The Turks had a single aim, simple and direct, and they kept hammering away at their enemies, putting in telling blows at the right moment and the right place. On the other hand, the Christian cause suffered both from the leadership of the Papacy, with its rigid insistence on establishing Western ecclesiastical rule in the East, and from the sordid self-seeking of the Genoese and Venetians. From both points of view the conquest of the Greek Empire was generally regarded as a necessary preliminary for making headway in the restoration of Christian control over the Holy Land.

The hard case of the Eastern Emperor, whose few remaining possessions were in the fast-closing grip of the Ottoman Sultan, is sketched indelibly in the narrative of the Western journey of John V, who, while the Turks were absorbing the Slavic lands about his empire, visited Rome to ask the Pope’s aid. In the desperate state of his resources he had borrowed at Venice, at exorbitant rates of interest, money to pay the expenses of his trip. On his return empty-handed he was stayed at Venice by his creditors, and the republic put him in prison. His son, Andronicus, associated with his father in the Empire, had been left behind at Constantinople. When the Emperor appealed to him for aid, the reply came that the treasury was empty. The unfortunate sovereign appealed with more success to a younger son, Manuel, who mortgaged his estates and enabled his father to return home.

In May, 1372, the Pope again took the initiative in organizing an anti-Ottoman league by writing to the Republic of Venice and the King of Hungary a letter which described the achievements of the “Saracens” in Thrace, their defeat of the “Servian lords in Greek lands,” and the prospects of a farther advance of the infidel towards the Adriatic. Bad news had come from Greece, too, of the possibility of the Turkish invaders penetrating towards the south. A congress of the Balkan states was called to meet at Thebes, a place under Frankish and Roman Catholic rule; and it was a significant fact that no member of the Eastern Church was asked to be present. A gathering of such a restricted character could do nothing. There were at Thebes only a few representatives of the small Latin principalities in Continental Greece and the islands. Immediately after this gathering the Byzantine clergy put forth in Constantinople a formal protest against the See of Rome and appealed for help to the Knights of Rhodes.

Peter of Cyprus had been murdered by his barons in 1369, and the island had fallen into the hands of the Genoese. In 1374 the small Frankish kingdom of Armenia, an enclave between the Turkish and Mongol lands in Asia, had come to an end with the capture of Sis. In 1378 the great church schism in the West brought about a situation that prevented the Papacy from taking further thought for what was now left of the Christian East. Four years later Louis of Hungary died, leaving his kingdom, a land especially interested in preventing the extension of Turkish power in Europe, a prey to a civil war induced by the division he had made of his dominions between his two daughters. There was no longer even the semblance of a chance that European forces would unite on a large scale to resist the Turks. The contest was left to the weak and divided efforts of the small Frankish states in Greece; to the Bulgars and Servians in the Balkans, who followed only desultory, haphazard methods, and to the Greeks of the Empire, who were living on the traditions of a great past.

Meanwhile, the Osmanlis were not disturbed by questions of religious orthodoxy, and they were also spared the necessity of calling congresses to decide the next step in their stealthy progress. In 1372, under the personal supervision of Murad, expeditions were made by which the whole of Roumelia to the Black Sea was not only made subject to his rule, but Moslem families were settled in the conquered lands and a regularly ordered system of local military government provided. Then came the turn of the few remaining provinces still held by the Greek Emperor. When Vizya (in Turkish, Wissa), an important city, fell into Murad’s hands, John, whose bitter necessities had forced him to pay tribute to the Turk and even to furnish a contingent for military service, tried to recover his lost city. A punitive expedition appeared in consequence near Constantinople, and some strong castles were annexed; but nothing near the sea coast was taken, for the Sultan had no desire to bring down upon himself the ill will of the Venetians and other Italians, who would not tolerate any interference in their control of the important waterways near Constantinople. For the same reason, though constant additions were being made to Turkish territory close to Thessalonika, no attempt was made to close in on the city for fear of complications with the Latin powers, complications which might excite such an outbreak of the crusading ardor that the Italian navies might be used.

Considerably more important were the operations of the Sultan’s lieutenant, Lala-Schahin. There were internal dissensions between the Bulgars and the Roumanian Layko, a feudatory of the King of Hungary. Allying himself with Layko, Lala-Schahin succeeded in capturing Sofia, and for a while even Nisch was occupied. No attempt was as yet made by the Slavs after their earlier defeat to protect themselves on a large scale. At this point the method and aim of the pacific penetration policy of the Sultan, which alternated with carefully devised methods of military aggression, can be seen in the picturesque story of the plot entered into by Andronicus, the son of John the Emperor, and Sandschi, the son of Murad, to take the lives and the crowns of their respective fathers. The conspiracy was detected and defeated, and the young Turkish prince died from the effect of having hot vinegar poured in his eyes. Andronicus, escaping from his prison, after the common Byzantine penalty of blinding his sight had been, perhaps intentionally, inflicted with such mildness that he regained it, made a treaty with the Genoese and with Murad. He agreed to confer special privileges on the Turks if they would help to secure for him the imperial crown. For three years the usurpation lasted, and John and his faithful son Manuel were only restored to their rights by Murad’s friendly connivance, which was secured by the promise of 3000 ducats a year. Of less value must have been the additional agreement that the Byzantine princes would serve in the Sultan’s army.

Andronicus had fled to the Turkish lines and, through the intervention of Murad, he received later Thessalonika as an appanage. He was aided by the Genoese, while his father had as allies the Venetians, a division of interests out of which grew the celebrated naval war, called that of Chioggia, between the two rival cities of Italy. Murad preferred to keep quiet while the two Italian naval powers were in force in his neighborhood, and he devoted himself with much sagacity to fishing in the troubled waters of the Asiatic emirates, with results both in war and diplomacy that were eminently satisfactory.

In 1387 after there had been such successes of the Turks to record as the surrender of Monastir, and Prilep, and Schtip, and even the temporary seizure of Thessalonika, the Servians undertook, under the direction of a feudal lord, Lazar, to organize a systematic plan of resistance. Lazar was first aided by a Bosnian king, Tourtko, who had, however, ambitious designs on certain lands under the Hungarian crown, designs that soon robbed his promised co-operation of its influence. Schischman of Bulgaria was drawn into the league, and in Lazar’s army there appeared also contingents of Albanians and Roumanians standing side by side with the Slavs. The crisis was fully appreciated by Murad. He summoned new troops from Asia, and all the greatest generals took part in the campaign, in addition to his two sons, Bajesid and Jakab. The decisive battle was fought on ground that was part of Lazar’s own domains near Prischtina, on the wide plains called Kossowopolje. Murad was surrounded by his band of Janitschars; to hold back the enemy the camels of the Asiatic troops were drawn up in front. The Christians were confident in their superior number, for they had 200,000 men under arms ready to begin the attack.

From a contemporary account comes the narrative of the death of the Sultan. It is there told how ten young men of distinguished birth, bound by oath to stand by one another, succeeded in forcing their way to the tent of Murad. One of these, Mulasch Obilitsch, managed to inflict two fatal wounds on the neck and body of the aged ruler. But this successful stroke did not end the fight, for Bajesid, who was renowned for the rapidity and daring of his generalship, drove his wing of the Ottoman army into the Christian ranks, broke through them, and put them to flight at the very moment they thought themselves victorious. It is said that in the panic Lazar lost his life; probably he was captured and subsequently sacrificed in revenge for the murder of Murad. (June 15, 1389.)

Both armies withdrew after the battle. Murad’s fate made him a martyr to the faith, and he is one of the Sahibs or Elect of Islam. Even the Greeks praise his character as being benevolent towards the conquered, whom he understood how to win over to his side after he had conquered them by the irresistible force of his arms. He laid the foundations of the Moslem state, adapting it shrewdly for rule over conquered populations. They were accepted as tenants of the new owners of the soil, paying tithes. The Sultan himself received the Kharadsch or tribute money. At the same time the subject races retained their faith, their customs, their church, their courts, and their aristocracy. The warrior class was made up of native Turks and some renegades. These became the sole owners of the land and had to take their place in the regular yearly campaigns. There was, besides, a standing army of young foot soldiers composed of captives taken in war, the Janitschar class, who looked up to the Sultan as their father. For administrative progress there was a corps of officials, whose functions descended from father to son, composed of “Begs.” At the top of this bureaucracy was a Beglerbeg for each half of the kingdom, one for Asia and one for Europe, and a Wesir or Pascha, the equivalent in Turkish of the former word, which is Arabic. The administrative divisions under the Begs were called Sandjaks (flags) because these were carried by the Begs as emblems of their authority.