# Adventures of Baron Wenceslas Wratislaw of Mitrowitz/Book 4

BOOK IV.
Of our Release from Prison and Return to our own Country.
HILE we were thus mournfully lamenting and singing sad songs, and had lost all hope of quitting the tower till death, in comes our aga amongst us, with a cheerful countenance, bidding us give him a reward, because he was about to tell us good news. Waking up, as it were from sleep, we all crowded round him, like chickens round a hen, beseeching him to tell us the good news, kissing his feet, hands, and clothes. Not having the heart to refuse our request, he informed us that Ibrahim Pasha was chosen grand vizier, and gave us good hope of our release. On hearing this, without having had any expectation of it, we raised our hands and thanked God heartily, and asked the aga to advise us what we should do, for we scarce knew what to do for joy. For in truth, if a man has not experienced misery, want, hunger, cold, heat, and grievous imprisonment, he cannot possibly believe one who has been in such a condition. He advised us to send a petition to the pasha, ​and wish him prosperity in his new office, long life, and victory over his enemies, promising to deliver the petition to the pasha and to intercede for us; but on condition that, on our release, we should give him the two hundred ducats. In return for this we kissed his hands and feet for joy, and promised to give him much more; and having given the writing to a Turkish priest to copy out, we sent it to the aga to look over, committing ourselves to the Lord God and to him. He got into his caïque, or six-oared boat, and going to Constantinople, first wished Ibrahim joy of his new office, and then delivering the writing from us, spoke to the following effect:—“Call to thy recollection, gracious sir, that when thou wentest to thy gardens thou promisedst the prisoners in the Black Tower to befriend them and care for their release. But because thou wert then only a lieutenant in thy present dignity, these poor prisoners prayed for thee, day and night, that thou mightest become grand vizier, and never lay down to rest without singing a hymn to God for thee, according to their religion. Therefore, have compassion on the poor wretches; though they are unbelieving dogs, nevertheless they are also God’s creatures. Who knows, whether God has not heard them, and called thee to this office for their release? For when I told them that thou wast proclaimed vizier, they all with tears and joy raised their hands towards heaven, and gave God thanks. And, moreover, the mighty Sultan himself commanded them to be released from prison. Therefore, they now place all their hope in thee and none other; if thou wilt, free them from so grievous an imprisonment; and since they are innocent, thou wilt receive a recompence from Mahomet.” ​The pasha received our letter and said:—“Dear aga, thou perceivest and knowest how great a burden is placed upon me, so that I have more cares than hairs in my beard. Therefore, it is impossible to attend to them before I set more important matters in order. Remind me in about two or three weeks’ time, and conduct them to the divan (the national council), and I will use every means that they may be freed from this imprisonment.”
When the aga made this known to us we were filled with great joy, and waited anxiously for the time to come; and certain it is that those two weeks seemed to us as long a space as the four years preceding; for we were constantly thinking, whether the time was already come when we should be released from our prison. For such thoughts we could not even sleep. When the longed-for time came, the aga gave orders for us all to be let out of the tower, and the fetters to be taken off one foot. These we tied to our girdles, that we might carry them the more easily. On coming into the open air we were refreshed, as if born anew; yet we could not look at the sun, but, on coming suddenly out of such great darkness into the light, tears streamed from our eyes, till they became accustomed to it again. Meanwhile the aga ordered the caïque to be prepared for us to sail to Constantinople, and on looking over us, and seeing me, the youngest of all, with long hair and no beard, pale and emaciated, he said that I should stay there below with the guards and walk about, till he returned with my comrades, otherwise, on account of my youth, I might easily be seized by some pasha and forced to turn Mahometan. For the Turks, and especially the renegades, are addicted to infamous crimes, and young people are in great danger. ​He, therefore, honestly advised me to stay there. Wishing with my whole heart to make the excursion and see Constantinople, I kissed the aga’s hand, and besought him, for God’s sake, to take me also with him. He said to me:—“If thou wilt have it so, thou shalt come with us, but I do not promise thee that thou wilt return.” Thus we got into the boat and sailed to Constantinople, landed from the boat, and went into the city, where a great concourse of the Turkish mob surrounded us, asking who and whence we were? But our aga answered them himself, and forbad us to say a word. Having very long hair flowing over my shoulders, and being beardless, I was the most tormented; for one pulled me by the hair, another stared in my face, a third talked to me, and asked me who I was; but the aga seeing this, and fearing for me, did not venture to take me into the divan: but going to the church of St. Sophia, left me there with two Turks, under a projection of the roof, where some lime was lying, and ordered me to sit down on the ground, that the Turks going that way might not see me. He, likewise, ordered my two guards to give heed to me, otherwise, as Cykula Pasha, an Italian renegade, had gone to the council that day, I should certainly fall into some danger if I went with the rest to the council. Though unwillingly, I nevertheless remained there, and the aga’s idea was not far wrong. For, as soon as my companions entered the divan, Cykula Pasha asked:—“Where is the Viennese ambassador’s boy, that he is not with these?” The aga answered:—“He has been seriously ill for several weeks, and I know not whether he will be still alive when we return; moreover, he is covered with such an eruption that it is painful to look at him.”
​All the pashas present arose, went to the Sultan, and made intercession that we might be released from prison, saying that peace would be made between the Emperors so much the sooner. But orders were given to our aga to place us again in the tower, and bring me also if I were still alive, to the divan in a fortnight. The prisoners, my comrades, thanked the pashas, and returned towards the Black Tower, past the church of St. Sophia, where I sat in the lime-vault. I crawled out of the lime-vault and joined them with my two guards, and we went to the tower, and anxiously waited for the last day of the fortnight.
When the Emperor Mehemet came to the determination of besieging the city of Erlau in person, and all military matters were prepared, the embassies of the King of France and the Queen of England made intercession with Ibrahim Pasha for our release, promising, by means of us, to bring it to pass that peace should be made between the Sultan and the Emperor; for at that time the Turks were already weary of the war, and would rather have had peace than war, as the flower of their army had perished in Hungary.
After a fortnight we all sailed again to Constantinople with one fetter. On going into the divan we were informed, through an interpreter, that the mighty Sultan, out of his natural goodness, released us all from so grievous an imprisonment, and counselled us to show gratitude in return, and never to wage war against him; otherwise, if any of us were seized and captured in war, he would be immediately impaled. Likewise, when we returned to our own country, he bade us, with the aid of our friends, bring it to pass that our king should seek peace ​from the mighty Sultan, and that the prisoners on both sides should be released. Upon this they inscribed us by name in the record books, and all of us, falling at the feet of the pashas, wished to kiss them, which, however, they did not permit, and, thanking them for their great kindness, promised that none of us (knowing their great power and might) would serve in war to the day of our death; but that, as soon as we arrived in Christendom, we would in every wise counsel our Emperor and our friends to humble themselves to the Sultan, and seek peace from him, and that we knew that negotiations for peace would be begun as soon as we informed them of such enormous preparations.
There were also there present the ambassadors of the King of France and the Queen of England, who were to follow the Turkish army to the city of Erlau, and to whom several camels and horses had been assigned, and also a chiaous appointed, with twenty janissaries, to protect them and prevent the Turkish multitude from injuring them in aught. These ambassadors befriended us, and entreated that we might be freed from prison immediately, and sent to Christendom by sea, by way of Venice. That request being made, the ambassadors and we were commanded to leave the council, and, after a short time, the pashas summoned the English ambassador, and bade him, whenever he should follow the Sultan, to take us under his protection, and provide for us, as far as Greek Belgrade. They then assigned us thirty-five camels and four carriages, to put our baggage on, and also ride on ourselves; and also promised to give us five tents and six janissaries for our safety, and ineanwhile commanded us to depart to the tower, take ​our necessaries (i. e. our rags), and wait upon the English ambassador. It is impossible to express with what joy we returned back to the tower, for we forgot all our miseries and past troubles, thanked the Lord God heartily for this kindness, and rejoiced just as if we had been born again. As we drew near the Black Tower, the aga reminded us in the boat of the promise we had made him, viz. our engagement to give him 200 ducats. He immediately sent some of our number, with one fetter on, to Galata, to try to borrow the money amongst the Christian merchants. But they returned again to the tower without having been able to effect anything, by great entreaties, with any one who would take compassion on our misery, and lend us the 200 ducats, and told the aga that they had been unable to make arrangements anywhere. On hearing this, he was greatly enraged, imagining that we were able to obtain money, but were purposely endeavouring to avoid giving him anything. He, therefore, reproached us with threats, and angrily reminded us of the kindnesses he had done us in the prison, calling us ungrateful dogs and giaours, and swearing, by his Sultan’s head, that no one should make him release us from prison till we paid him the 200 ducats according to agreement. He then ordered the fetters to be fastened again on both our feet, and commanded us to go into the tower, and even into the stocks. We pacified him with tears, and affirmed with great oaths that we really could not make arrangements for such a sum, and begged him, nevertheless, to send some more of us on the morrow out among the merchants, to see whether we should be any more fortunate than we had been that day.
​The next day, early in the morning, I and three others of knightly rank, and also the priest John, and our doctor, were released from our fetters, and sailed to Galata, where we negotiated with all the merchants, especially the Venetians, who were the most numerous, and endeavoured to prevail upon them to lend us 200 ducats. We were willing to subscribe with our blood that we would send them the money to Venice in half-a-year, and fifty ducats besides, by means of a bill-of-exchange, begging them, for God’s sake, and for the sake of the recompence they would obtain, to take a Christian compassion upon our long imprisonment, to collect that sum amongst them, and assist us poor tortured prisoners with a loan. But not a spark of Christian love was there in them. Not only did they refuse to lend us the 200 ducats, but they would not even speak friendly with us, take compassion on our misery and sympathize with us; nay more, they avoided us, and said that they dared not talk with us for fear of suspicion. Then we went to the Venetian ambassador himself, told him who we were, and in what station our friends in Christendom were, begged him for a loan, and promised that we would repay the money to the Venetian ambassador at Prague, if he wished, with interest, and would bind ourselves to do so in writing. But we effected nothing more with him than with the rest of the merchants; he strangely alleged his poverty in excuse, and said that he had no ready money by him, but daily expected a large sum from his lords. Not knowing whither to betake ourselves, we went, last of all, to the French and English ambassadors, and informed them what an impediment to our liberation had arisen from the aga, begging them, ​for God and His mercy’s sake, to take compassion upon us and lend us the money. But they, too, excused themselves on account of their great expenses, since they were about to follow the Sultan’s camp, and were obliged to borrow from others themselves. However, they declared themselves willing to go thus far, viz. if the aga would take either cloth, or velvet, or house-furniture, they would send him articles in moderation to the value of the 200 ducats. With this answer they dismissed us. Thus we, poor harassed creatures, returned to our tower with empty hands, great terror, weeping, and anxiety, and informed the aga that no one would lend us aught in ready money, unless he were willing to receive it in articles of commerce. On hearing this, he shook his stick at us, and threatened to beat us, if the Turks sitting by had not prevented him, called us liars in our throats, promise-breakers, and unfaithful dogs; recounted the acts of kindness which he had done us, and would not believe that we could not make arrangements about the money. “For,” said he, “how can you but lie in your throats in saying that your Christians and brethren, of whom there are thousands, will not redeem you, whereas, if they gave an asper apiece, it would amount to a much larger sum than these 200 ducats? But the fact is, you dogs want to cheat me; you will not exert yourselves to obtain the money, but are leading me by the nose, and forgetting my benefactions, and thus it is no more proper to believe you than dogs; whereas, if it had not been for me and my care for you, and the love which I showed you, knaves that you are, never would it have come to your eventual relense from this grievous gaol. And, therefore, I swear ​by the most holy prophet Mahomet, that, as I have been your best friend, so, from this day forth, will I be your most deadly enemy, and will seek out causes to hinder you from ever coming out of this tower. Dogs! traitors! perjurers! faithless Pagans! will you thus repay my kindnesses, who have been to you as your own father?”
We acknowledged before all the Turks that it was indeed so, and that he was not our aga, but our father, and had been the principal cause of our liberation, and had done us such kindnesses that we should never be able to repay and recompense them to the day of our death. Moreover, as it was impossible for us to make arrangements for the money with the merchants, we offered to subscribe with our own blood that we would send him, by way of Venice, in half-a-year at latest, 500 ducats, and also handsome knives, and striking-clocks; and this we promised to fulfil upon our soul and faith. But he would not allow himself to be appeased by anything, but reviled and cursed us till the foam ran out of his mouth; he also ordered us to be immediately put into irons, and, uttering strange threats against us, commanded us to go into the tower.
When we came to our companions, and told them that we could not negotiate the loan of the money anywhere, there was great weeping and lamentation. And now that we had angered the aga, who had been our very good friend, and had no one any more to manage our affairs, all hope departed that anything should come of our liberation, and we returned, with a downcast heart, to our trade of knitting gloves and stockings, and longed every hour to die, and be once for all freed from these miseries. And verily, even as we had been greatly en​raptured from having bad a sure hope of deliverance, even so, on the other hand, were we affected by great and boundless melancholy when all hope was taken from us, especially when the aga came to us in a fortnight and declared that we must not hope to quit the tower, because the Sultan, as well as Ibrahim Pasha and the Christian ambassadors, had gone from Constantinople, and that, whereas we could have procured our freedom for 200 ducats, we had purposely deprived ourselves of it. He also caused us to be told several times by the guards that we must remain in the tower till the Sultan returned from the war. At this we were exceedingly terrified, and, fully believing that it was so, wept heartily over our misery and misfortune; nevertheless, we ceased not to implore the aga, for the sake of the recompence of their prophet Mahomet, to allow us to go only once more among the merchants and try to borrow the money. But he would not give permission, but declared that it was too late, and all our negotiating was in vain.
Here every man can estimate how we poor prisoners felt about the heart when, after having had a fortnight ago a certain hope of liberation, that hope was unexpectedly taken from us; and verily it was with us just as with a man who has climbed out of a deep well up to the wall that surmounts it, when, just as he is about to step out, his hands have given way, and he has fallen back again into the deep well, without having any hope of climbing out of it any more. While I write this, and call that time to remembrance, I feel even now how mournful my heart was then, and cannot write more upon that subject for sorrow. Therefore, praised for ever and ever be the Lord God Most High, whom, out of His ​boundless mercy, it pleased to deliver me from that excess of misery and bitterness of heart, yea, from that grievous prison, and to restore me happily to my dear fatherland.
When we had bewept ourselves to our heart’s content, had given up all hope, and had returned again to our trade, then, unexpectedly, did the Lord Most High look upon our misery, and of His holy graciousness it pleased Him to assist us, so that a Spanish merchant, named Alfonzo di Strada, who had earned his freedom from a Turkish prison by work and service, and had married and settled in the city of Galata, sent us word by one of our guards, who used to take our gloves and purses to that city to market and sell them, that letters had arrived for us from Christendom, and advised us once more, that is to say, Zahradetzky, the priest John, and myself, to beg leave of absence from the aga, and to entertain hopes of making arrangements for the money. Doubting whether he would let us go, and especially knowing, according to the aga’s information, that it was already too late, we were not much delighted at this message; nevertheless, since it must be so, we allowed ourselves to entreat him to let us go, at any rate, this once more to Galata. But he replied that we were only devising an excuse in order to be able to make an excursion; that previously, when we had time and leave to go about, we had not chosen to exert ourselves about the money; and that now, when it was too late, and we knew that it was too late, we were willing to exert ourselves in earnest. With this answer he left us in sorrow. Nevertheless, in the morning he ordered us three to be summoned out of the tower, asked us whether we intended to trouble ourselves about the money in earnest, ​and promised that he would kindly forgive us all the anger we had caused him by deluding him so long.
On hearing this we kissed his hand with tears, and promised not to return without the money. And, listening to our earnest desire, he sent with us four Turks as guards, with whom we went to Galata, and to the house of this Strada. When we asked him where we could make arrangements about the money, according to his message, he at first held back with gloomy reserve, saying,—“I don’t know; I certainly imagined that a certain good friend of yours intended to advance it for you, but to-day he says he has none.” At this we were unspeakably downcast. Seeing us thus downcast, he could not restrain himself from weeping, but delivered us letters from the priest Adam von Winor, Dean of Carlstein, and from my dear mother, the noble Lady Catherine Wratislaw, née Von Bessin, wherein they informed us that they had sent us three 200 ducats by way of Venice, which Alfonzo di Strada was to pay us. When, therefore, we asked for the money, and he showed it us, so unlooked-for and inexpressibly sudden a joy filled our hearts that it is in no wise possible to describe it. We immediately embraced and kissed Strada with tears of joy, and not even waiting for the food and drink which he wished to give us, as a bird which escapes from its cage, settles somewhere on a tree, sings and delights in its liberty, even so we, being enraptured beyond all our expectations, praised the Lord God, returned to our tower with the money, and hastened up into the fortress with a cheerful countenance.
Our aga, seeing us somewhat cheerful, contrary to our previous mood, immediately understood that we had the ​money, and asked us how it was that we had been successful? We kissed his hand, and threw the 200 ducats, purse and all, into his lap, and besought him that we might not go into the prison anymore, but that our companions also might be liberated. He counted over the ducats and received them with thanks, and patting us on the head, commended us for having done well, and paid him the money according to promise. He then said that he forgave us all, and commanded us that day to be all released from our irons, and to be set free the next day and conducted to the English embassy at Galata. In fact, we were released—and that immediately—by the gipsy smiths, from our irons and fetters, and could not sleep all night long for joy, but tied our rags together, distributed something to the poor prisoners who remained there after us, and bade adieu to them; for the poor fellows wept bitterly, knowing that they were to remain still longer in that miserable prison, and must almost despair of their freedom. These prisoners were,—Balak Dak Istwan, a lieutenant from Erlau, who had already been fourteen years in the tower, Matthias, the hussar, and Christopher, the innkeeper, all three Hungarians; the fourth was the German from Hernstein, who had been a lieutenant in the Croatian fortress Wysyne. These miserable prisoners begged us, if we reached Christendom, to entreat our Emperor on their behalf, that they might be freed from that cruel tower by the exchange of other Turks for them. This we promised to do.
Next day we bade adieu to them with great weeping, and quitted, on the festival of St. Peter and St. Paul, that most gloomy Black Tower, in which we had been shut up two years and five weeks without intermission, ​and going to the aga, thanked him and the rest of the guards for the kindness and favour they had shown us, and promised (and also afterwards fulfilled our promise) to send them handsome knives, and the aga a striking-clock. The aga then had us conducted to the English ambassador at Galata, who received us in a friendly manner, and ordered a bath to be prepared for us, that we might be cleansed from the filthy condition in which we were. After the bath we visited the Catholic churches, of which there are seven in Galata, and gave thanks to the Lord God for our deliverance from so exceeding cruel an imprisonment, fervently beseeching Him to be our Guide and Gracious Protector to our own dear country.
About that time Sultan Mehemet marched with great pomp from Constantinople, with all his court and his principal warriors, and having had tents pitched before the city, rested there several days according to custom, waiting for more soldiers. For several pashas from Egypt, Palestine, Cairo, and other lands beyond sea, were still marching up with their armies, and they were waiting for them. Verily, we might gaze and wonder at the beautiful order which the Turks kept while pitching the tents, the camp being so extensive that no one could see to the end of it. Mehemet Pasha marched an hour before midnight with 50,000 men, always keeping a day’s journey before the Emperor and the main army, and had the roads put in order, and tents pitched for the Sultan and the principal officers of the army, so that all the tents were changed and pitched before the Sultan came up, and stood in readiness, measured out into streets foursquare, like a fortress, with bastions and trenches. ​In the centre of the whole camp were placed large iron tents for the Emperor, his chamberlains and courtiers, and also for his horses and carriages, and the pashas and their attendants, and that in such numbers that one might lose one’s way among them, just as in a large city. There were also gates made of waxed linen, and so beset by the Emperor’s guard that no one could get to the Sultan’s tent without permission.
When Mehemet Pasha moved forward from the camp, to secure the safety of the road, and marched with his 50,000 men, there was no clamour, noise, or trumpeting to be heard, only small drums were beaten, and that sparingly, merely that the soldiers might know how to direct themselves. And when they wanted to stop for the night, they pitched their tents without any tumult, and struck them again in the morning, and placed them on camels and mules, so quietly, that it was a wonder to behold; and truth it is that with us fifty soldiers make more disorder and shouting than these 50,000 made. After Mehemet Pasha marched the Emperor and his main army, he himself riding in the centre of them with his usual guard of janissaries, spahis, and other soldiers, and with chief pashas in great numbers. On the right rode always 12,000 spahis and oglungars with yellow plumes on their lances; on the left, the same number of horse-soldiers with red flags on their lances, like a field of poppies in bloom; in front of the Emperor himself marched 12,000 janissaries on foot; next rode the Sultan and the pashas, and after him the sangiaks of all his lands. While marching through the open country, they beat large drums without intermission. Behind the Sultan rode all his courtiers, and last of all Cykula Pasha, ​with the renegades, or Christians, who had become Mahometans, and other Turks, he having about 15,000 people under him. Round the Emperor himself were solaks and kapigis, with bows and arrows, and also chamberlains, who corrected anything that was wrong, and took care that the march should be conducted in good order, and managed all manner of amusements for the Emperor on the road. They had wonderful jugglers amongst them, who wrestled, leapt, and swung before the Sultan; some of whom stood on the saddle with their feet even, when their horses were galloping, turned somersaults, leapt into the saddle and down again at full gallop, and exhibited many more amusing tricks.
When the Sultan had marched from Constantinople with the main army, the beglerbeg of the land of Greece pitched his tent with the rest of the army, about 80,000 strong, in the same place where the Emperor had previously been, and rested there two days. The English ambassador stayed with us two days at Galata, and on the third day we marched in good order with these 80,000, always pitching our tents where the Emperor had rested for the night. When we arrived at Greek Belgrade, the whole army was concentrated together, amounting, as they said, to 500,000 men, but there were not really so many. There might have been full 300,000 of all sorts, including the rabble and worthless mob, the muleteers, and drivers of asses and camels. By that city they pitched their camp, extending so far that it was impossible to see to the end of it. The Emperor would not lodge in the castle, but lay in the open country; and some thousand Tatars also joined him, who day and night were burning the villages of Christians living under the pro​tection of the Turks, and driving herds of cattle, and droves of unbroken mares into the camp. These Tatars obtained such an abundance of cattle that they sold two Hungarian oxen for a dollar, more or less, and cows for twenty or thirty aspers the pair. We, too, bought a calf from under a cow for eight aspers, and eat meat to our heart’s content. The Turks, on killing an ox, cut the flesh into long thin stripes, salted it, stretched ropes from one tent to another, hung the meat on them and dried it in the sun. At that time, too, the Tatars captured many Christians daily and brought them to the Sultan. The Sultan lay before Belgrade for about a fortnight.
Meanwhile the English ambassador made application to Ibrahim Pasha to send us to Buda and set us at liberty, because he wished to write to our Emperor about making peace. He also procured us access to him and the aga in command of the janissaries, and when we were admitted into his presence in his tent, we kissed his feet, and besought him to set us free before the mighty Sultan marched to Erlau, because, eventually, our Emperor, owing to us, would send off commissioners to humble themselves to the Sultan in his stead, and sue for peace. The pasha asked us whether we had seen all their camp, the great might, and the number of the countless multitude of people that was marching against the giaours? When we replied that we had not seen it and could not see it, since we had travelled in the rearmost body amongst the camels and mules, he immediately commanded us to be conducted throughout the whole camp, and to be shown the artillery and other engines of war. When we had seen everything that we could that day, ​we were again summoned in the morning before the same pasha, with the English ambassador, and asked whether we had now seen the exceeding great power and might of their Emperor? And whether our king could collect as many men and stand in array against them? We gave for answer that we had seen all, and never in our lives had we seen so many soldiers, and that it was not possible for our Emperor to collect such a number of men; and surely our Emperor knew nothing about the Sultan’s great forces, otherwise he would immediately treat for peace, would humble himself to the Turkish emperor, and would certainly send presents to appease the anger of so mighty a lord. Therefore, we besought him to set us free the sooner, that we might make that exceeding mighty force known to our Emperor and all the Christians. And he replied that he would do so, but that we were to remember the kindnesses shown us, noise their great forces abroad everywhere, and induce the Christians to make peace before they arrived at Erlau. And if our Emperor wished to send any of us to the Turkish emperor to negotiate such a peace, we were not to fear aught, but boldly and willingly to make ourselves useful in the matter, he swearing by the beard of the Sultan, his lord, that no harm should happen to us, but that we should be presented with distinguished gifts, handsome clothes and horses, and dismissed in safety to our own country.
When we had promised all this and much more, a letter credential and emancipatory was given us, and also one to the pasha at Buda, (five of our party having been in a tower there ever since the death of my lord the resident,) to the effect that he was to release them from ​prison, and entrust us to boatmen, to go to a fortress of our own up the Danube. In return for this kindness we all fell at his feet and thanked him. It was our great good fortune, that we received the letter to the pasha at Buda, and the letter credential that day, for, had it not happened so, we should certainly have all been cut in pieces, as will soon be related.
When the Turkish emperor moved from this place with his whole army, and began to march towards Erlau, they formed, in a very beautiful plain, opposing armies of camels, mules, and horses, amounting to full 150,000 in number, and so extensive that it was impossible to see to the end of them; they drew up as though they were about to engage in battle, fired cannons and all their heavy artillery at each other, surrounded the body which represented the Christians, skirmished, turned it to flight, took many thousands prisoners, and flattered their Emperor, giving him good hopes of victory, and continuing to advance quietly, and in good order, further and further into the land of Hungary.
When we arrived at the fortress of Zolnak we heard news that our people had taken the fortress of Hatwan from the Turks, that the Walloons had behaved like dogs, and not like Christians to the Turks, their wives, and children, had ripped up pregnant women, had cut children at the breast in two, had hung their mothers up by the breasts, had flayed and embowelled them, had searched for money, and had so tortured them, that it was grievous to hear the lamentations of the Turks, who affirmed that it was not the Walloons, but the Germans who had exercised such cruelty. Hence arose among the Turks not only the beforementioned clamour, weeping, and lamenta​tion, but also acts of ferocious cruelty. For whatever lately-captured prisoners they had they cut in pieces, and bound themselves by a great oath, that, if they took any fortress of ours, they would behave therein in a similar way in return, and would not spare and leave alive any German, either woman, old man, or child, nay, not even a dog that belonged to a German. In this ill-humour they wished to sabre even the Christian ambassadors, and more especially us prisoners, and would have carried this into execution had it not been, firstly, for the Divine protection, and secondly, for Ibrahim Pasha and the aga in command of the janissaries, who immediately surrounded the whole place where the Christian ambassadors were living with us with a strong guard of janissaries, and allowed no one to have access to us. Orders were then given to us not to show ourselves to any one, but to remain in our tent, and not to quit it under pain of death.
As the Turks remained three days at Zolnak for sorrow and never moved, our ambassador kept constantly applying to the pasha, through his chiaous, that, according to his promise, fifty hussars, or Turkish archers, should be assigned us, to escort us as far as Buda. But the pasha was vehemently enraged, and threatened to have us all put to the sword, asking whether it was in return for this that he was to set us at liberty, because our fathers, uncles, and brothers, had behaved so dishonourably to their dear friends the Turks at Hatwan? Although, if they had murdered the men only, it would have been no wonder, since the nature of war often brings that with it; but it was a doggish, brutal, and unheard of thing to behave thus cruelly to the innocent female sex and little chil​dren; and, if he had not appeased the anger of the Sultan and chief officials, we should have long ago been cut in pieces. Therefore, he bade him leave him quiet in the matter, and not press him, if he did not wish to meet with something worse himself.
When the English ambassador sorrowfully made known this sad intelligence to us, and said that we were in danger of our lives, we were greatly terrified and cast down. He also counselled us to pray fervently to the Lord God, that, since it had pleased him to free us from so grievous a prison, it might please Him to be our God still further, and grant us a happy return to our own dear country. And as he understood, that, as soon as the camp moved, we might have some difficulty, and might even perhaps be put to the sword, he cared for us faithfully, hired four peasant carts to go to Buda, gave us 100 ducats for the journey, assigned us his own interpreter, and a janissary to guard us, and counselled us in God’s name, as soon as the Emperor marched towards Erlau, to turn by another way towards Buda, and commit ourselves to the Lord God, since we already had our credentials and the letter to the Pasha of Buda.
As we were obliged to travel that night by a most dangerous road, where day and night the Turks and Tatars and our hussars were skirmishing—and, in fact, they brought into the camp daily captured heyduks of ours, and wounded hussars, and also multitudes of Christians’ heads—we were constrained to swear to the janissary that, if Christians came upon us, no harm should happen to him, and he, on his part, promised in return that, if Turks came upon us, we should travel on in safety, since we had the Turkish emperor’s pass​port; but he acknowledged that he could not make any promise for the Tatars if we fell into their hands, but said that he should be cut in pieces with us himself, for the Tatars did not even spare a Turk, but when they fall upon them by tens or twenties, and are more than a match for them, they sabre them, and plunder them of everything, without paying the least regard to any orders. For this reason we took a guide with us, and, after bidding adieu to the ambassador of the English queen, and thanking him for his great kindness, as soon as the Sultan moved from Zolnak towards Erlau we turned, with great terror, towards Buda, in the name of God.
As we went on our way we kept continually looking back, with a timid and terrified heart, to see whether they were pursuing us, and were in constant expectation of being cut to pieces, since we were obliged to travel through the most dangerous localities, where Turks. Tatars, and Christians were skirmishing, it being impossible, as our guide informed us, to go by any other road. Nevertheless, it pleased a merciful God so to order it that during the whole day, from morning dawn to evening twilight, we never met a single human being; only on arriving, when it was almost twilight, at a large Hungarian village, we saw about a hundred Tatars moving about the vineyards. Filled with terror, we hastened to the village, which was entirely surrounded by a moat, and besought the inhabitants to protect us against the Tatars and admit us into the village, which they did. The poor peasants threw a little bridge over the moat, bade us sorrowfully welcome, and informed us what excessive ill-treatment they were compelled to ​endure from the Tatars, about 500 of whom were encamped in the village. They, therefore, counselled us to go without delay to the Vicarage, and conceal ourselves somewhere, that the Tatars might not see us. We listened to their advice, went to the vicar, and, begged him to open the church to us. He kindly gave us cheese and slices of bread, and admitted us into the church, where, with a contrite heart, we besought God for mercy and protection against the Tatars. Not knowing what plan to adopt, we also hoped in the janissary, and trusted that our Turkish passport would be available for us. But the janissary was as much afraid of the Tatars as ourselves, and consequently turned quite pale, and forbad us to speak to him in Turkish.
Meanwhile the Tatars lighted large fires in the village, roasted oxen and sheep whole, cut off the cooked flesh, and ate like dogs. When we quitted the church, and began to feed our horses, the Tatars got intelligence of us, and immediately crowded to us, to the number of about 200, and, surrounding us, asked us who and what we were. We and the janissary made them a low Turkish obeisance, answered that we were going to Buda by order of the Sultan, and exhibited the Sultan’s letters. But they replied, contemptuously, that it would be an improper thing to let us go, and sent for their captain, and the good God knows what they intended to do with us. Perceiving that it would not go well with us, and that we should either be made prisoners, or put to the sword by them, we prayed very penitently in heart, and besought God that it might please Him to be our protector, which, in fact, came to pass at sunset.
Wonder of wonders, and mighty power of God! Al​though the whole of that day had been very bright, the sun shining beautifully throughout, and not the least vapour or cloud had been visible, it nevertheless pleased a most merciful God, who never forsaketh them that trust in Him, to raise an exceedingly violent wind, and after it a tempest, so that it did not rain but pour, and a water-spout must have burst. The whole village and the trenches were filled with water, and the Tatars returned to their horses, the tempest having extinguished all their fires. During this violent tempest we harnessed our horses to the carriages, by the advice of the poor peasants, and quitted the village, taking with us a peasant to guide us by a route different from that which we had intended to pursue, as there were Tatars encamped in all the surrounding villages. This violent rain lasted without intermission till midnight, and during it we nevertheless travelled onwards, though we were obliged to pull the horses and carriages out of quagmires and help them forwards. We also travelled through a great number of burnt and forsaken villages, and heard the crying, weeping, and wailing of the poor people, and the lowing of the captured cattle. However, we made our way gradually onwards, for God strengthened our horses and ourselves, and arrived, about three hours before daybreak, at a heath, where we gave our horses hay and rested ourselves. But as soon as the horses had eaten a little we recommenced our journey. Our guides, owing to the rain, wandered far from the road, and could not remember whither they had led us; they were also anxious to escape from us. The janissary, perceiving this, did not allow them to leave him for a moment, but tied them both by the neck with a strap, and drove them ​before him to show him the way, threatening to cut off their heads if they did not conduct us to a good road. Terrified at this, they groped for the road with their hands, but continually led us further and further from the right way.
When day was about to dawn, our guides terrified us exceedingly by being utterly unable to remember where they were, and by saying that they heard the stamping of horses and shouting of men, and were, therefore, afraid of falling into the hands of the Tatars, who were encamped in all directions round about. They advised us to lie down with one ear to the ground and listen; we should find that the ground shook, and, in short, that a number of men, how many they could not say, were riding towards us. This we did with infinite terror, and ascertained that the ground really did shake, and that the noise of men and neighing of horses were to be heard. We therefore halted, and deliberated what was to be done. When it grew more light we espied a grove of no great size in a wide plain, and, not being able to distinguish what it was, declared unanimously that it was a body of Tatars, and some of us affirmed that they saw a banner waving. Not knowing how else to help ourselves, we all made up our minds to disperse, and each seek for safety where he best could. However, one of our drivers crept on all-fours towards the grove, wishing to know what in the world it was, and, on creeping nearer to it, saw that it was only a grove, cried out “Jesus,” and told us not to be afraid. Then the poor dear janissary imagined that it was Christians, and wanted to take to flight, but some of us held his horse under him, and prevented him from escaping. At length, just as if ​we had awoke from sleep, we approached the grove, and jeered each other about the panic which that little bit of a wood had struck into us. Passing beyond the grove, and it beginning now to be daylight, we espied about thirty Turkish hussars, with lances and pennons, galloping straight towards us, who placed their lances in the rest, shouted, “Allah! Allah!” surrounded us, and placed the points of their lances against our breasts. At this we were greatly terrified, but our janissary recovered his self-possession as soon as he heard them shout, and saluted them in Turkish. They asked us who and whence we were, and whither we were going, and, on receiving an answer from the janissary, cried out, “Jury pre jury!” spurred their horses and darted away from us. These Turks were from the division of the Pasha of Bosnia, who had sent them forwards to ascertain where the Sultan was, and when he intended to march to Erlau. Then, at length, our guides remembered where they were, and conducted us in an oblique direction into the right road, which leads to Pesth.
When day had fully dawned we heard loud salvos of artillery from Buda, which, at so great a distance, was surprising to us. It again occurred that no one met us on our journey till it was just noon, when we saw a large number of cavalry riding towards us on the plain. When they approached us we found that it was an exceedingly fine body of about 10,000 cavalry, with which the Pasha of Bosnia was on his way to reinforce the Sultan at Erlau. They all had long lances and various-coloured pennons upon them. As soon as they espied us about a hundred of them darted forwards, and rode at full gallop towards us with their lances in the rest.
​As soon as our janissary knew that they were Turks, he dismounted, saluted them, and informed them who we were and whither he was conducting us. Our interpreter also rode with him to the pasha, showed him our letters, and informed him that the Sultan was already moving towards Erlau with his whole army. He then returned to us again. When the pasha’s army had passed us, we made for Pesth, and arrived at the city about an hour before sunset. Our janissary showed our letters to the cadi, and requested him to assign us a lodging, which was done. Although we were now safe from the Tatars, we were, nevertheless, still afraid that the Turks might send for us back, and order us to be again detained in prison.
In the morning, when the pasha returned home, the Sultan’s letter was delivered to him by us, in which orders were given him to escort us to the nearest Christian fortress, and set at liberty our five comrades, who had been in prison at Buda ever since the death of our ambassador. The pasha read the letter through, and not only immediately set our comrades at liberty, but also gave us plenty to eat and drink, and ordered boatmen ​to take us up stream to the fortress of Towaschow. At this we were the more delighted in proportion to the greatness of the doubts we had previously entertained about being so easily allowed to go up the Danube; for, remembering the Turks’ wrath and fury on account of the taking of Hatwan, we were every hour in expectation that they would send after us, with orders for our arrest and imprisonment. But it pleased a merciful God to preserve us from this fate.
The next day, early in the morning, we sent the peasants, with the carriages and some of our things, forwards to Towaschow, requesting them to inform the Christian soldiers there of our liberation and arrival, and intending to recompense them there for the use of the carriages. But the poor fellows fell in with some Tatars and were put to the sword by them. We then got into a boat, and were pulled up stream, while our janissary and dragoman, or interpreter, rode on horseback along the bank. When we got close to Towaschow, we saw the bastions full of German soldiers, and imagined that our peasants had already made known our approach in the fortress. Such, however, was not the case. For a few days before some Turks, disguised in women's clothes, had sailed in a boat to the very skirts of the fortress, had seized and bound two fishermen and a woman, and had carried them off to Buda. Thus the people at Towaschow imagined that some more Turks were coming on a plundering expedition, and had disguised themselves like captives, in order the more easily to delude the Christians. Moreover, seeing the janissary and dragoman on the other bank of the Danube, they determined to allow us to approach the fortress within point-blank ​range of their cannon. Being then so close to the fortress, and not knowing what to do for joy, we began to embrace and kiss each other. At this moment our friends fired two pieces, one at the janissary, and the other at our boat, so that the water splashed over us, the artilleryman having fired a little too low. The boatmen, therefore, saw their danger, and wanted to let us fall again down stream. We prevented them from doing this, took the oars out of their hands, and raising a hat on the point of a spear, called out with a loud voice that we were Christians. The commander, Rosenhahn, a German by birth, saw this, and stepping up to the artilleryman, forbad him to fire any more, otherwise he would have shot our boat through with a second discharge, and we must have been drowned. In fact, I afterwards ascertained myself that he had taken better aim than the first time, and would certainly not have missed us.
Terrified as we were, we, nevertheless, approached the fortress, and calling out in German and Hungarian, made known who we were. Then there came to meet us a couple of boats, with two guns each, which first made a circuit round us, that we might not escape, and occupied the Danube behind us. They then rowed straight up to us, with their firearms cocked, and asked who we were. Upon our briefly informing them, they immediately lashed our boat to theirs, and pulled to the front of the fortress, where we got out, and all kneeling down, thanked God with heartfelt tears for our deliverance from so grievous an imprisonment. We were conducted into the fortress, cordially welcomed by the governor, and well-supplied with meat and drink. We ​informed him that the janissary, who had been our escort, was on the other side with a dragoman, and requested that they might be sent for, as they had letters to deliver to the governor. This was done, and they were entertained in the town, where we, too, remained for the night.
In the morning we went in a boat to Gran, and saw sick and dead soldiers lying everywhere on the bank of the Danube. They stretched out their hands to us, some of them being half dead,—and besought us, for God’s sake, to take them to Gran. In fact we did take three, but two of them died on the way, and the third we conveyed to the camp. When we disembarked in the night, in the neighbourhood of Gran, we came to a picquet of the regiment of Swabia, and, after declaring who and whence we were, were compelled to wait several hours on the spot, till the officer of the watch came to us with soldiers and torches, welcomed us, and took us into the camp. In the morning, Maximilian, archduke of Austria, was pleased to send for us to come to him in the castle, where he questioned us about various matters, especially about the Sultan, inquiring whether he was marching to Erlau in person. About this the archduke knew nothing whatever, and we were very much surprised that the Christians possessed such poor intelligence. After relating him everything in a fitting manner, we gave him correct information about the strength of the Turkish forces, at which his grace was much surprised, and was greatly vexed at having been so erroneously informed. He, therefore, immediately gave orders to sound an alarm, intending to march straight to Erlau. But our people marched without at​taining their object, and, failing to relieve Erlau, were obliged to leave that famous fortress in the hands of the Turks.
At Gran I met my cousin, Felix Wratislaw, and also Albert Wratislaw, who had been shot in the knee at Hatwan. He afterwards died, and lies buried at Gran. We then begged his grace the archduke to have us conveyed to Vienna, for our feet were blistered, and we could not walk well from exhaustion. He granted our request, and ordered us to be conveyed to Vienna.
We arrived at Vienna, which was then under his grace the Archduke Maximilian, and were permitted to have an audience. We kissed his hand, and after giving him certain information about the Sultan’s march, and the strength of his army, petitioned for pecuniary assistance to enable us to travel to Prague. We obtained our request, and he not only gave us money for the journey, but also ordered us to be conveyed to Prague to his brother, his Imperial Majesty Rudolph the Second.
When we arrived at Prague, and met our friends, O! it is impossible to describe the joy! His Majesty the Emperor, hearing of us, was graciously pleased to summon us to his presence. We kissed his hand and related how much we had had to endure in his service for all Christendom, and humbly entreated him to be our gracious emperor, king, and lord, and to be pleased to grant us some acceptable recompence for it. His majesty looked kindly upon us all, and said, in German,—“Wir wollen thun!” “We will do so!” It was then his pleasure to leave us; and, although orders were certainly given by him that a considerable sum of money should ​be divided amongst us, yet God knows in whose hands it remained; for 100, and 150 dollars, more or less, were given to some of us, who were foreigners, to enable them to reach their homes; whereas, after much entreaty, and many applications, nothing was given to us Bohemians, but merely the offer made that, if we liked to take service in the Emperor’s court, we should take precedence of others. But we committed all to God, and preferred to return without money to our parents, friends, and acquaintances, who received us, as everybody can judge, with exceeding joy of heart. Thus, every one of us may, and ought to rejoice at this, and thank God, the best of comforters and succourers in sorrow, with heart and lips, to the day of his death. For, when all hope failed, all succour came to nought, and it seemed impossible to all men, both Turks and Christians, that we should return to our own country out of a prison so grievous, and, in all human judgment, so beyond the possibility of liberation. He set us at liberty by His mighty hand, to Whom. One true and living God in Trinity, be ascribed honour, glory, and praise for ever and ever!
* ↑ Literally, the twenty-third hour. This is the old Bohemian and Polish reckoning from sunset to sunset. There is still a twenty-four-hour clock outside the Rathshaus in the Altstadt at Prague.
* ↑ Martalozes. This word appears to mean “boatmen,” and is possibly connected with the French “matelot;” but it is omitted in Sumawsky’s dictionary, and Jungmann merely conjectures its meaning, and quotes this passage. The more usual meaning would be kidnappers, which is quite inapplicable here. It may, however, well mean the boatmen, &c. usually employed on predatory excursions up the Danube for the purpose of taking prisoners to sell as slaves.
CHISWICK PRESS:—PRINTED BY WHITTINGHAM AND WILKINS, TOOKS COURT. CHANCERY LANE.