CHAPTER VII
COUNT CORTI TO MAHOMMED
At noon the days are a little more yellow, and the shadows a triflelonger, while at evening the snows on the far mountains give the air acoolness gently admonitory of the changing season; with theseexceptions there is scarcely a difference between the September towhich we now come and the closing stages of June.
Count Corti is fully settled in his position. Withal, however, he isvery miserable. A new light has been let in upon his being. He finds ita severe trial to serve a Mahommedan, knowing himself a Christian born,and still more difficult trying to be a Turk, knowing himself anItalian. The stings grow sharper as experience makes it plainer that heis nefariously helping those whom he ought to regard enemies destroy anEmperor and people who never gave him offence. Worst of all, mostcrushing to spirit, is his passion for the Princess Irene while underobligations to Mahommed prohibitory of every hope, dream, andself-promise ordinarily the sweetest incidents of love.
The person with a mental ailment curable by prompt decision, who yetgoes about debating what to do, will ere long find his will power soweakened as to leave him a confirmed wreck. Count Corti seemed likelyto become an instance in point. The months since his visit to thepaternal castle in Italy, really the beginning of the conflicts tossinghim now here, now there, were full of warnings he could but hear; stillhe continued his course.
His reports to Mahommed were frequent, and as they are of importance toour story, we think it advisable to quote from some of them.
The following is from his first communication after the visit to SanctaSophia:
"I cast myself at your feet, O my Lord, praying Allah to keep you inhealth, and strengthen the wise designs which occupy youincessantly.... You bade me always speak first of the kinswoman of theEmperor. Yesterday I rode to the Church supreme in the veneration ofthe Greeks, erected, it is said, by the Emperor Justinian. Its vastnessamazed me, and, knowing my Lord's love for such creations, I declare,were there no other incentive to the conquest of this unbelieving citythan the reduction of Sancta Sophia to the religious usages of Islam,its possession would alone justify my Lord's best effort, regardless oflife and treasure. The riches accumulated in it through the ages areincalculable; nevertheless its splendors, dazzling as the sun, variedas a rainbow, sunk out of sight when the Princess Irene passed me sonear that I had a perfect view of her. Her face is composed of thelight of unnumbered stars. The union of all the graces in her person isso far above words that Hafiz, my Lord's prince of poets, would havebeen dumb before her, or, if he had spoken, it would have been to say,She is the Song of Songs impossible to verse. She spoke to me as shemoved by, and her voice was the voice of Love. Yet she had the dignityof a Queen governing the world through a conqueror such as my Lord isto be. Then, the door having closed upon her, I was ready to declare,as I now do, were there no other incentive to the conquest of thisunbelieving city than the possession of the womanly perfectionsbelonging to her, she would justify war to the exhaustion of theuniverse. O my Lord, thou only art worthy of her! And how infinite willbe my happiness, if the Prophet through his powerful intercessions withthe Most Merciful, permits me to be the servant instrumental inbringing her safely to thy arms!" This report concluded:
"By appointment of His Majesty, the Emperor, I had audience with himyesterday at his High Residence, the Palace of Blacherne. The Court wasin full attendance, and, after my presentation to His Majesty, I wasintroduced to its members. The ceremony was in charge of the GrandChamberlain, that Phranza with whom my Lord is acquainted. Much Ifeared lest he should recognize me. Fortunately he is dull andphilosophical, and too much given to study of things abstract and faraway to be mindful of those close under his nose. Duke Notaras wasthere also. He conversed with me about Italy. Fortunately I knew moreabout the _Gabour_ country than he--its nobles, cities, manners, andpresent conditions. He thanked me for information, and when he had myaccount of the affair which brought me the invaluable certificate ofthe Bishop of Rome he gave over sounding me. I have more reason to bewatchful of him than all the rest of the court; _so has the Emperor_.Phranza is a man to be spared. Notaras is a man to be bowstrung.... Iflatter myself the Emperor is my friend. In another month I shall beintrenched in his confidence. He is brave, but weak. An excellentgeneral without lieutenants, without soldiers, and too generous andtrustful for a politician, too religious for a statesman. His time isoccupied entirely with priests and priestly ceremonies. My Lord willappreciate the resort which enabled me to encamp myself in his trust.Of the five Arab horses I brought with me from Aleppo, I gave himone--a gray, superior to the best he has in his stables. He and hiscourtiers descended in a body to look at the barb and admire it."
From the third report:
"A dinner at the High Residence. There were present officers of thearmy and navy, members of the Court, the Patriarch, a number of theClergy--Hegumen, as they are called--and the Princess Irene, with alarge suite of highborn ladies married and unmarried. His Majesty wasthe Sun of the occasion, the Princess was the Moon. He sat on a raisedseat at one side of the table; she opposite him; the company accordingto rank, on their right and left. I had eyes for the Moon only,thinking how soon my Lord would be her source of light, and that herloveliness, made up of every loveliness else in the world, would thenbe the fitting complement of my Lord's glory.... His Majesty did me thehonor to lead me to her, and she did me the higher honor of permittingme to kiss her hand. In further thought of what she was to my Lord, Iwas about making her a salaam, but remembered myself--Italians are notgiven to that mode of salutation, while the Greeks reserve it for theEmperor, or Basileus as he is sometimes called.... She condescended totalk with me. Her graces of mind are like those of herperson--adorable.... I was very deferent, and yielded the choice oftopics. She chose two--religion and arms. Had she been a man, she wouldhave been a soldier; being a woman, she is a religious devotee. Thereis nothing of which she is more desirous than the restoration of theHoly Sepulchre to the Christian powers. She asked me if it were truethe Holy Father commissioned me to make war on the Tripolitan pirates,and when I said yes, she replied with a fervor truly engaging: 'Thepractice of arms would be the noblest of occupations if it were givensolely to crusading.' ... She then adverted to the Holy Father. I inferfrom her speaking of the Bishop of Rome as the Holy Father that sheinclines to the party which believes the Bishop rightfully the head ofthe Church. How did he look? Was he a learned man? Did he set abecoming example to his Clergy? Was he liberal and tolerant? If greatcalamity were to threaten Christianity in the East, would he lend itmaterial help?... My Lord will have a time winning the Princess over tothe Right Understanding; but in the fields of Love who ever repentedhim of his labor? When my Lord was a boy, he once amused himselftraining a raven and a bird of paradise to talk. The raven at lengthcame to say, 'O Allah, Allah!' The other bird was beyond teaching, yetmy Lord loved it the best, and excused his partiality: 'Oh, itsfeathers are so brilliant!'"
Again:
"A few days ago, I rode out of the Golden Gate, and turning to theright, pursued along the great moat to the Gate St. Romain. The wall,or rather the walls, of the city were on my right hand, and it is animposing work. The moat is in places so cumbered I doubt if it can beeverywhere flooded.... I bought some snow-water of a peddler, andexamined the Gate in and out. Its central position makes it a key offirst importance. Thence I journeyed on surveying the road and adjacentcountry up far as the Adrianople gate.... I hope my Lord will find theenclosed map of my reconnoissance satisfactory. It is at leastreliable."
Again:
"His Majesty indulged us with a hawking party. We rode to the Belgradeforest from which Constantinople is chiefly though not entirelysupplied with water.... My Lord's Flower of Flowers, the Princess, wasof the company. I offered her my chestnut courser, but she preferred ajennet. Remembering your instructions, O my Lord, I kept close to herbridle. She rides wonderfully well; yet if she had fallen, how manyprayers to the Prophet, what amount of alms to the poor, would havea
vailed me with my Lord?... Riding is a lost art with the Greeks, ifthe ever possessed it. The falcon killed a heron beyond a hill whichnone of them, except the Emperor, dared cross in their saddles. Someday I will show them how we of my Lord's loving ride.... The Princesscame safely home."
Again:
"O my Lord in duty always!... I paid the usual daily visit to thePrincess, and kissed her hand upon my admission and departing. She hasthis quality above other women--she is always the same. The planetsdiffer from her in that they are sometimes overcast by clouds.... Fromher house, I rode to the imperial arsenal, situated in the ground storyof the Hippodrome, northern side. [Footnote: Professor E A Grosvenor.]It is well stored with implements of offence and defence--mangonels,balistas, arbalists, rams--cranes for repairing breaches--lances,javelins, swords, axes, shields, scutums, pavises, armor--timber forships--cressets for night work--ironmonger machines--arquebuses, but ofantique patterns--quarrels and arrows in countless sheaves--bows ofevery style. In brief, as my Lord's soul is dauntless, as he is aneagle, which does not abandon the firmament scared by the gleam of ahuntsman's helmet in the valley, he can bear to hear that the Emperorkeeps prepared for the emergencies of war. Indeed, were His Majesty aswatchful in other respects, he would be dangerous. Who are to serve allthese stores? His native soldiers are not enough to make a bodyguardfor my Lord. Only the walls of Byzantium remain for her defence. TheChurch has swallowed the young men; the sword is discarded for therosary. Unless the warriors of the West succor her, she will be an easyprey."
Again:
"My Lord enjoined me to be royal.... I have just returned from a sailup the Bosphorus to the Black Sea in my galley. The decks were crowdedwith guests. Under a silken pavilion pitched on the roof of my cabin,there was a throne for the Princess Irene, and she shone as the centraljewel in a kingly crown.... We cast anchor in the bay of Therapia, andwent ashore to her palace and gardens. On the outside face of one ofthe gate-columns, she showed me a brass plate. I recognized my Lord'ssignature and safeguard, and came near saluting them with a _rik'rath_,but restraining myself, asked her innocently, 'What it was?' O my Lord,verily I congratulate you! She blushed, and cast down her eyes, and hervoice trembled while she answered: 'They say the Prince Mahommed nailedit there.' 'What Prince Mahommed?' 'He who is now Sultan of the Turks.''He has been here, then? Did you see him?' 'I saw an Arabstory-teller.' Her face was the hue of a scarlet poppy, and I feared togo further than ask concerning the plate: 'What does it mean?' And shereturned: 'The Turks never go by without prostrating themselves beforeit. They say it is notice to them that I, and my house and grounds, aresacred from their intrusion.' And then I said: 'Amongst peoples of theEast and the Desert, down far as the Barbary coast, the Sultan Mahommedhas high fame for chivalry. His bounties to those once fortunate enoughto excite his regard are inexhaustible.' She would have had me speakfurther of you, but out of caution, I was driven to declare I knewnothing beyond the hearsay of the Islamites among whom I had been hereand there cast.... My Lord will not require me to describe the palaceby Therapia. He has seen it.... The Princess remained there. I was atsore loss, not knowing how I could continue to make report of her to myLord, until, to my relief she invited me to visit her."
Again:
"I am glad to say, for my Lord's sake, that the October winds, sweepingdown from the Black Sea, have compelled his Princess to return to herhouse in the city, where she will abide till the summer comes again. Isaw her to-day. The country life has retouched her cheeks with ajust-sufficient stain of red roses; her lips are scarlet, as if she hadbeen mincing fresh-blown bloom of pomegranates; her eyes are clear as acrooning baby's; her neck is downy--round as a white dove's; in hermovements afoot, she reminds me of the swaying of a lily-stalk brushedsoftly by butterflies and humming-birds, attracted to its open cup ofparadisean wax. Oh, if I could but tell her of my Lord!"...
This report was lengthy, and included the account of an episode morepersonal to the Sultanic emissary than any before given his master. Itwas dated October. The subjoined extracts may prove interesting.
... "Everybody in the East has heard of the Hippodrome, whither I wentone day last week, and again yesterday. It was the mighty edifice inwhich Byzantine vanity aired itself through hundreds of years. Butlittle of it is now left standing. At the north end of an area probablyseventy paces wide, and four hundred long, is a defaced structure witha ground floor containing the arsenal, and on that, boxes filled withseats. A lesser building rises above the boxes which is said to havebeen a palace called the _Kathisma_, from which the Emperor looked downupon the various amusements of the people, such as chariot racing, andbattles between the Blue and Green factions. Around the area from the_Kathisma_ lie hills of brick and marble--enough to build the Palace asyet hid in my Lord's dreams, and a mosque to becomingly house ourMohammedan religion. In the midst, marking a line central of therace-course, are three relics--a square pillar quite a hundred feethigh, bare now, but covered once with plates of brass--an obelisk fromEgypt--and a twisted bronze column, representing three writhingserpents, their heads in air. [Footnote: The Hippodrome was the popularpleasure resort in Constantinople. Besides accommodating one hundredthousand spectators, it was the most complete building for the purposesof its erection ever known. The world--including old Rome--had beenrobbed of statuary for the adornment of this extravaganza. Its enormouslevel posed in great part upon a substructure of arches on arches,which still exist. The opinion is quite general that it was destroyedby the Turks, and that much of its material went to construct theMosque Sulymanie. The latter averment is doubtless correct; but it isonly justice to say that the Crusaders, so called Christians, whoencamped in Constantinople in 1204 were the real vandals. For pastime,merely, they plied their battle-axes on the carvings, inscriptions, andvast collection of statuary in marble and bronze found by them on thespinet, and elsewhere in the edifice. When they departed, theHippodrome was an irreparable ruin--a convenient and lawful quarry.]...The present Emperor does not honor the ruin with his presence; but thepeople come, and sitting in the boxes under the KATHISMA, and standingon the heaps near by, find diversion watching the officers and soldiersexercising their horses along the area.... My Lord must know, in thenext place, that there is in the city a son of the Orchan who termshimself lawful heir of Solyman of blessed memory--the Orchan pretenderto my Lord's throne, whom the Greeks have been keeping in mockconfinement--the Orchan who is the subject of the present Emperor'sdemand on my Lord for an increase of the stipend heretofore paid forthe impostor's support. The son of the pretender, being a Turk, affectsthe martial practices prevalent with us, and enjoys notoriety foraccomplishments as a horseman, and in the tourney play djerid. He iseven accredited with an intention of one day taking the field againstmy Lord--this when his father, the old Orchan, dies.... When I enteredthe Hippodrome one day last week, Orchan the younger occupied the arenabefore the Kathisma. The boxes were well filled with spectators. Someofficers of my acquaintance were present, mounted like myself, and theyaccosted me politely, and eulogized the performance. Afterwhile Ijoined in their commendation, but ventured to say I had seen betterexercise during my sojourn among the infidels in the Holy Land. Theyasked me if I had any skill. 'I cannot call it skill,' I said; 'but myinstruction was from a noble master, the Sheik of the Jordan.' Nothingwould rest them then but a trial. At length I assented on conditionthat the Turk would engage me in a tourney or a combat withoutquarter--bow, cimeter, spear--on horseback and in Moslem armor. Theywere astonished, but agreed to carry the challenge.... Now, O my Lord,do not condemn me. My residence here has extended into months, withoutan incident to break the peace. Your pleasure is still my rule. I keepthe custom of going about on horseback and in armor. Once only--at HisMajesty's dinner--I appeared in a Venetian suit--a red mantle and hose,one leg black, the other yellow--red-feathered cap, shoes with the longpoints chained to my knees. Was there not danger of being mistaken fora strutting bird of show? If my hand is cunning with weapons, shouldnot the Greeks be taught it? How b
etter recommend myself to His Majestyof Blacherne? Then, what an opportunity to rid my Lord of futureannoyance! Old Orchan cannot live much longer, while this cheepingchicken is young.... The son of the pretender, being told I was anItalian, replied he would try a tourney with me; if I proved worthy, hewould consider the combat.... Yesterday was the time for the meeting.There was a multitude out as witnesses, the Emperor amongst others. Hedid not resort to the _Kathisma,_ but kept his saddle, with a bodyguardof horsemen at his back. His mount was my gray Arab.... We began withvolting, demi-volting, jumping, wheeling in retreat, throwing thehorse. Orchan was a fumbler.... We took to bows next, twelve arrowseach. At full speed he put two bolts in the target, and I twelve, allin the white ring.... Then spear against cimeter. I offered him choice,and he took the spear. In the first career, the blunted head of hisweapon fell to the ground shorn off close behind the ferrule. Thespectators cheered and laughed, and growing angry, Orchan shouted itwas an accident, and challenged me to combat. I accepted, but HisMajesty interposed--we might conclude with the spear and sword intourney again.... My antagonist, charged with malicious intent,resolved to kill me. I avoided his shaft, and as his horse bolted paston my left, I pushed him with my shield, and knocked him from thesaddle. They picked him up bleeding nose and ears. His Majesty invitedme to accompany him to Blacherne.... I left the Hippodrome sorry not tohave been permitted to fight the vain fool; yet my repute inConstantinople is now undoubtedly good--I am a soldier to becultivated."
Again:
"His Majesty has placed me formally in charge of the gate in front ofmy quarters. Communication with my Lord is now at all times easy. _Thekeys of the city are in effect mine._ Nevertheless I shall continue topatronize Ali. His fish are the freshest brought to market."
Again:
"O my Lord, the Princess Irene is well and keeps the morning colors inher cheeks for you. Yet I found her quite distraught. There wasunwelcome news at the Palace from His Majesty's ambassador atAdrianople. The Sultan had at last answered the demand for increase ofthe Orchan stipend--not only was the increase refused, but the stipenditself was withdrawn, and a peremptory order to that effect sent to theprovince whence the fund has been all along collected.... I made acalculation, with conclusion that my report of the tourney with youngOrchan reached my Lord's hand, and I now am patting myself on the back,happy to believe it had something to do with my Lord's decision. Theimposition deserved to have its head blown off. Orchan is a dotard. Hisson's ears are still impaired. In the fall the ground caught him crownfirst. He will never ride again. The pretension is over.... I rode fromthe Princess' house directly to Blacherne. The Grand Council was insession: yet the Prefect of the Palace admitted me.... O my Lord, thisConstantine is a man, a warrior, an Emperor, surrounded by old womenafraid of their shadows. The subject of discussion when I went in wasthe news from Adrianople. His Majesty was of opinion that yourdecision, coupled with the order discontinuing the stipend, was sign ofa hostile intent. He was in favor of preparing for war. Phranza thoughtdiplomacy not yet spent. Notaras asked what preparations His Majestyhad in mind. His Majesty replied, buying cannon and powder, stockingthe magazines with provisions for a siege, increasing the navy,repairing the walls, clearing out the moat. He would also send anembassy to the Bishop of Rome, and through him appeal to the Christianpowers of Europe for assistance in men and money. Notaras rejoinedinstantly: 'Rather than a Papal Legate in Constantinople, he wouldprefer a turbaned Turk.' The Council broke up in confusion.... Verily,O my Lord, I pitied the Emperor. So much courage, so much weakness! Hiscapital and the slender remnant of his empire are lost unless the_Gabours_ of Venice and Italy come to his aid. Will they? The HolyFather, using the opportunity, will try once more to bring the EasternChurch to its knees, and failing, will leave it to its fate. If my Lordknocked at these gates to-morrow, Notaras would open one of them, and Ianother.... Yet the Emperor will fight. He has the soul of a hero."
Again:
"The Princess Irene is inconsolable. Intensely Greek, and patriotic,and not a little versed in politics, she sees nothing cheering in thesituation of the Empire. The vigils of night in her oratory are leavingtheir traces on her face. Her eyes are worn with weeping. I find itimpossible not to sympathize with so much beauty tempered by so manyvirtues. When the worst has befallen, perhaps my Lord will know how tocomfort her."
Finally:
"It is a week since I last wrote my Lord. Ali has been sick but keepsin good humor, and says he will be well when Christian winds ceaseblowing from Constantinople. He prays you to come and stop them.... Thediplomatic mishaps of the Emperor have quickened the religious feuds ofhis subjects. The Latins everywhere quote the speech of Notaras in theCouncil: 'Rather than a Papal Legate in Constantinople, I prefer aturbaned Turk'--and denounce it as treason to God and the State. Itcertainly represents the true feeling of the Greek clergy; yet they arechary in defending the Duke.... The Princess is somewhat recovered,although perceptibly paler than is her wont. She is longing for thereturn of spring, and promises herself health and happiness in thepalace at Therapia.... To-morrow, she informs me, there is to be aspecial grand service in Sancta Sophia. The Brotherhoods here andelsewhere will be present. I will be there also. She hopes peace andrest from doctrinal disputes will follow. We will see."
The extracts above given will help the reader to an idea of life inConstantinople; more especially they portray the peculiar servicerendered by Corti during the months they cover.
There are two points in them deserving special notice: The warmth ofdescription indulged with respect to the Princess Irene and thebetrayal of the Emperor. It must not be supposed the Count was unawareof his perfidy. He did his writing after night, when the city and hisown household were asleep; and the time was chosen, not merely forgreater security from discovery, but that no eye might see the remorsehe suffered. How often he broke off in the composition to pray forstrength to rescue his honor, and save himself from the inflictions ofconscience! There were caverns in the mountains and islands off in themid-seas: why not fly to them? Alas! He was now in a bondage which madehim weak as water. It was possible to desert Mahommed, but not thePrincess. The dangers thickening around the city were to her as well.Telling her of them were useless; she would never abandon the oldCapital; and it was the perpetually recurring comparison of herstrength with his own weakness which wrought him his sharpest pangs.Writing of her in poetic strain was easy, for he loved her above everyearthly consideration: but when he thought of the intent with which hewrote--that he was serving the love of another, and basely scheming todeliver her to him--there was no refuge in flight; recollection wouldgo with him to the ends of the earth--better death. Not yet--notyet--he would argue. Heaven might send him a happy chance. So the weeksmelted into months, and he kept the weary way hoping against reason,conspiring, betraying, demoralizing, sinking into despair.