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Observing the Ottomans – Ogier Ghiselin de Busbecq in Istanbul (1552-62)

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From Soleiman I received nothing beyond the customary gifts which are presented to departing ambassadors, such as I had generally received on bidding him farewell on previous occasions. He briefly inveighed against the insolence of the Heydons and the garrison at Szigeth. ‘What,’ he said, ‘has been the good of having made peace here, if they are going to disturb it and continue to fight?’ I told him that I would report his complaint to the Emperor, and that I hoped that the matter would be arranged.

Thus under favourable auspices I started on my long-desired journey towards the end of August [1562], taking back as the result of my eight years’ mission a truce for eight years, which, unless any important change occurred, was easily capable of extension for as long a period as we wished.

On our arrival at Sofia, from which town, besides the road to Belgrade, another route leads to Ragusa, whence it is only a few days’ passage to Venice, Leyva and Requesens asked permission to take the road for Ragusa in order that they might shorten their journey to Italy and carry out as quickly as possible the promise which they had made to send gifts to the Pashas and to discharge the debts which they had incurred for various expenses at Constantinople. They offered to give me letters for the Emperor expressing their gratitude to him for their liberation, and saying that they would gladly have thanked him in person, if they had not been prevented by the obligations to which I have referred. I made no difficulty about complying with their request. The death of Requesens, at an advanced age, before he could reach Ragusa, made me all the more glad that I had consented; I was glad that I had done him a favour, since a refusal might have been alleged as partly responsible for his illness.

De Sandé and I accomplished the remainder of our journey cheerfully enough without encountering any serious hindrances. De Sandé is a cheery fellow, of infinite jest, and quite ready, if need be, to forget his anxieties and make merry. Every day provided food for gaiety and joke. Sometimes it amused us to leave our carriages and try which of us could keep up walking the longest. In this I easily proved superior, being thin and unburdened by a load of corpulence, while my opponent was stout and impeded by his weight, beside being sluggish from the effects of his long imprisonment. When we came to a village it amused us to see Ibrahim, who was following us with great dignity on horseback with his Turkish escort, dash up to us and entreat us by all we held dearest to mount again into our carriages, and not to disgrace the party by allowing men of our high rank to be seen journeying on foot, which the Turks regard as highly undignified. His eloquence sometimes induced us to re-enter our carriages; but very often we laughed and took no notice.

I will now give you an example of de Sandé’s many witticisms. When we left Constantinople, not only was the heat still oppressive, but I was in so low a condition from the recent hot weather that I could hardly eat at all, or at any rate was content with very little. De Sandé, on the other hand, being a lusty fellow and accustomed to eat enormous meals, which he always took with me (n), devoured his food rather than ate it, and encouraged me to follow his example and show myself a man and eat lustily. His exhortations produced no result until at the beginning of October we were approaching the Austrian frontier. Here, owing partly to the climate and partly to the season, refreshed by the cooler atmosphere, I began to feel better in health and so ate more liberally than I had done during the earlier part of the journey. De Sandé, noticing this, exclaimed that he was amply rewarded for his trouble and that the toil and training which he had lavished upon me had not been thrown away, since under his tuition and guidance I had learnt how to eat, after having reached my present age without acquiring the science or practice of that very necessary art. He might, he said, owe me as great a sum as I cared to name for having delivered him from a Turkish prison, but my debt to him for having taught me to eat was equally great! Thus with many a jest we reached Tolna.

[At Tolna a quarrel occurred between de Sandé’s Spanish doctor and a Janissary, which was eventually settled by the intervention of Ibrahim.]

On the next day we continued our journey towards Buda, the doctor being as active as ever in spite of his serious bruises. When we were already within sight of Buda, some members of the Pasha’s household came out by his orders to meet us, accompanied by several cavasses. The most remarkable members of the party were some young men on horseback who were adorned in the following extraordinary manner. On their heads, which were shaved almost bare, they had made a long incision in the flesh and had inserted feathers of some kind or other in the wound: they were dripping with blood, but they concealed their pain as though they did not feel it, and behaved gaily and cheerfully. Just in front of me there were several of them on foot, one of whom was walking with his bare arms crossed over one another, both of them pierced above the elbow with the kind of knife which we call a ‘Prague Knife’. Another, who was naked to the middle, had cut two slits in the flesh of his loins, one above the other, and had inserted a cudgel in the slits, so that it hung as from a girdle. Another man had fixed a horseshoe on the top of his head by several nails; this must have been done some time before, as the nails had so fastened on the flesh as to be immovable.

With this escort we entered Buda, and were ushered into the presence of the Pasha, with whom I had a lengthy conversation about the observance of the truce, while de Sandé stood by. The extraordinary band of young men who showed such contempt for pain had taken their stand inside the threshold of the court. Noticing that I glanced towards them the Pasha asked me what I thought of them. ‘I like them very much,’ I replied, ‘but they treat their skin in a manner in which I should not like to treat my clothes, which I prefer to have whole.’ The Pasha laughed and then dismissed us.

On the next day we reached Gran, whence we proceeded to Komorn on the river Waag, the first fortress in the possession of the Emperor. On both banks of the river the garrison of the place with the naval auxiliaries, whom they call Nassadistas, were waiting for us. Before I crossed, de Sandé came up to me and disclosed the anxiety which he had long kept hidden and, embracing me, again thanked me for the recovery of his liberty; he confessed that he had hitherto felt sure that the Turks could not possibly be acting with good faith in the matter, and that he had, therefore, been in perpetual fear that he might have to go back to Constantinople and spend his old age in prison. Now at last he recognized that the liberty which he owed to my kindness was sure and certain, and on this account he would be under great obligation to me as long as his life lasted.

A few days later we reached Vienna. The Emperor Ferdinand was at the moment attending the Imperial Diet with his son Maximilian, whose inauguration as King of the Romans was being celebrated. I sent information to the Emperor of my return and of the arrival of Ibrahim, and asked his pleasure about him; for he was urgently requesting to be taken to Frankfort. At first the Emperor replied that he thought it better that the Turks should await his return in Vienna, since it would be hardly advisable that such bitter enemies should be conducted through the heart of the Empire all the way from Vienna to Frankfort. But this meant a long delay and might give the Turks a handle for suspicion of various kinds; there was really no cause for alarm in the journey of Ibrahim and his suite through the most flourishing part of the Empire, nay, it was actually desirable, in order that he might thus estimate its strength and size, and above all, that he should be witness at Frankfort of the unanimity with which the greatest princes of the Empire designated Maximilian as the successor of his imperial father. When I wrote to the Emperor setting forth these considerations, he consented that Ibrahim and his followers should be conducted to Frankfort. So we set out thither by Prague, Bamberg, and Wurzburg. Ibrahim was anxious not to pass through Bohemia without paying his respects to the Archduke Ferdinand. The Archduke, however, did not think fit to have an official meeting with him.

When I was within a few days’ journey of Frankfort, I resolved to warn the Emperor about several matters connected with my embassy, and to arrive for this purpose a day or two ahead of the Turks. I therefore took post-horses and reached Frankfort on the eve of the date upon which several years before I had begun my second journey to Constantinople. My gracious Sovereign received me with a courtesy and indulgence which I was far from meriting, but which was in keeping with his usual custom and natural kindness of heart. You can picture my pleasure, after so many years of absence, at seeing my master not only in good health but also enjoying every kind of prosperity. He showed his satisfaction at the successful termination of my mission, which had fulfilled all his expectations, and expressed his gratitude and appreciation for my devoted services and the negotiations which I had carried out, and left nothing unsaid which could betoken his cordial goodwill.

On the eve of the inauguration Ibrahim reached Frankfort quite late in the evening after the gates had been shut, which, by ancient custom, are not allowed to be opened during the whole of the following day. But by a special order of his Imperial Majesty permission was given for them to be opened for the Turks the next morning. A place was assigned to them whence they could see the newly elected Emperor pass by with all pomp and ceremony. They fully appreciated what was truly a grand and splendid spectacle. Amongst the rest who accompanied the Emperor in a place of honour, the three Dukes of Saxony, Bavaria, and Juliers [Jülich] were pointed out to them, each of whom, of his own resources, could have put a regular army into the field; and many other proofs of the strength, dignity, and greatness of the Empire were presented to their gaze.

A few days later Ibrahim was received in audience by the Emperor and explained the reasons of his arrival and presented such gifts as are held most honourable by the Turks. After the peace had been ratified, the Emperor bestowed splendid presents upon him and sent him back to Soleiman.

I am anxious to escape from the court and return to my own home, but private business still detains me here. [ . . . ] In my eyes a life of retirement and peaceful study is far preferable to the throng and clamour of a court. But eager as I am to depart, I am afraid that my gracious master may keep me here, or else send for me when I have gone to the retirement of my home. He has, it is true, assented to my departure, but only on condition that I return if he sends for me. If remain I must (and who can refuse the courteous request of one who has power to command what he will and to whom one owes so much?) I shall be able to find pleasure in the consolation that I can contemplate continually and gaze upon the countenance of my revered Emperor, nay, upon the living image of true virtue. For I assure you that the sun has never shone upon a nobler prince or one more worthy to be entrusted with the rule of an empire. Supreme power must always win men’s homage; but for a monarch to deserve such power and to prove himself worthy of it seems to me something far more noble. [ . . . ]

There may, perhaps, be some who regret that the Emperor has not shown more zeal for warlike achievements and has not sought laurels in that field. The Turks, it may be urged, have raged over Hungary for many years, laying it waste far and wide, and we have never come to the rescue, as our reputation demands; we ought long ago to have marched against them and, massing all our forces together, decided in a pitched battle which nation fortune desired should rule. Such advice is bold, but I doubt whether it is wise. Let us consider the matter rather more closely. In my opinion we ought to judge of the capacity of generals and emperors rather by their plans than by their fortune and the results which they achieve. In their plans they ought to take reckoning of their opportunities, their own strength, and the nature and resources of their enemy. If an ordinary enemy, well known to us, and lacking the prestige of victory, were to attack our territory, and our forces were equal to his, it would, I fear, be imputed to cowardice if we did not face him and check his advance in a pitched battle. But if our enemy were a scourge sent against us by the anger of Heaven (such as was Attila in the olden time, Tamerlane within the recollection of our grandfathers, and such as the Ottoman Sultans are in our own days), to whom nothing is an obstacle, and before whose advance everything falls—to hurl oneself precipitately against such a foe with a small and hastily levied army would deserve, I am afraid, the imputation not merely of rashness but even of madness.

Soleiman stands before us with all the terror inspired by his own successes and those of his ancestors; he overruns the plain of Hungary with 200,000 horsemen; he threatens Austria; he menaces the rest of Germany; he brings in his train all the nations that dwell between here and the Persian frontier. He is at the head of an army equipped with the resources of many kingdoms; of the three continents into which our hemisphere is divided, each contributes its share to achieve our destruction. Like a thunderbolt he smites, shatters, and destroys whatever stands in his way; he is at the head of veteran troops and a highly trained army, which is accustomed to his leadership; he spreads far and wide the terror of his name. He roars like a lion along our frontier, seeking to break through, now here, now there. Before now nations threatened by much less serious peril have often left their native land before the pressure of a powerful foe and sought homes elsewhere. There is little credit in remaining calm in the face of trifling dangers; but not to be alarmed by the approach of such an enemy as ours, while kingdoms crash in ruin around us, seems to me to betoken Herculean courage. Yet the heroic Ferdinand stands his ground with invincible spirit, never deserts his post, and refuses to retreat from the position which he holds. He would fain possess such resources that he could stake his all on the hazard of a battle at his own risk and without incurring the charge of madness; but prudence tempers these generous impulses. He sees what ruin any failure in so mighty an enterprise would entail upon his own faithful subjects, nay, upon Christianity in general, and deems it wrong for an individual to harbour designs for his private gratification which can only be carried out by calamitous sacrifices on the part of the State. He reflects how unequal the struggle will be if 25,000 or 30,000 infantry, together with a small force of cavalry, join battle with 200,000 cavalry supported by veteran infantry. What he must expect from such a contest is clear to him from the precedents of the past—the disasters of Nicopolis and Varna, and the plains of Mohacs still white with the bones of slaughtered Christians. [ . . . ]

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