VOLTAIRE

HISTORY Of CHARLES XII 1682 - 1718 King of Sweden

 

BOOK VI

Intrigues at the Porte—The Kan of Tartary and the Pasha of Bender try to force Charles to depart—He defends himself with forty servants against their whole army.

 

THE fortune of the King of Sweden, greatly changed as it was, now failed him in the smallest details. On his return he found his little camp at Bender, and his whole quarters, under water, flooded by the waters of the Neister. He withdrew to a distance of some miles, near a village called Varnitza; and, as if he had a secret suspicion of what was going to happen to him, he had a large stone house built there, capable, in an emergency, of sustaining some hours’ siege; he furnished it magnificently, contrary to his usual custom, and in order to impress the Turks. Besides this he built two more, one for his Chancery, and the other for his favourite, Grothusen, whom he supported. While the King was thus building at Bender, as if it was his intention to stay always in Turkey, Baltagi, being more than ever fearful of his intrigues and complaints at the Porte, had sent the resident consul of the German Emperor to Vienna to gain for the King of Sweden a passage through the hereditary dominions of the house of Austria. This envoy returned in three weeks with a promise from the Imperial Regency that they would give Charles all due honour, and conduct him safely to Pomerania.

The application had been made to the Regency because Charles, the successor of Joseph, who was then Emperor, was in Spain as a rival with Philip V for the crown. While the German envoy was carrying out his mission to Vienna, the Vizir sent three pashas to the King of Sweden bidding him begone from Turkish territory. The King, who knew their mission, sent them a message, that if they were venturing on any dishonourable or disrespectful proposal to him he would have them hanged forthwith. The pasha who delivered the message cloaked the harshness of his message in the most respectful language. Charles dismissed the audience without deigning a word of reply; but his chancellor, who remained with the three pashas, signified in few words his master’s refusal, which they had already concluded from his silence.

But the Grand Vizir was not discouraged. He ordered Ishmael Pasha, the new serasquier of Bender, to threaten the King with the Sultan’s displeasure if he did not haste to come to some conclusion. The serasquier was of an agreeable and tactful disposition, and had therefore gained Charles’s good-will and the friendship of the Swedes.

The King held a conference with him, and informed him that he would only depart from Turkey when the Sultan granted him two things: the punishment of his Vizir, and 100,000 men with which to return to Poland. Baltagi was aware of the fact that Charles’s presence in Turkey meant his ruin, so he placed guards on all the roads from Bender to Constantinople, with orders to intercept the King’s letters; he also cut off his “thaim,” the allowance that the Porte makes to exiled princes in her dominions. The King of Sweden’s was immense, 500 crowns a day in money, besides all that contributed to the maintenance of a court in pomp and abundance. As soon as the King heard that the Vizir had dared to cut off his allowance he turned to his steward, remarking, “So far you have had only two tables, for to-morrow prepare four.”

Charles XII’s officers had never found any order of their master’s impossible, but having neither money nor provision they were forced to borrow at twenty, thirty, and forty per cent. of the officers’ servants and janissaries, who had grown rich by the King’s liberality. M. Fabricius, ambassador from Holstein, Jeffreys, English minister, their secretaries and their friends, gave what they had; the King, with his usual pride, and without a thought for the morrow, lived on these gifts, which would not have long sufficed. They had to go through the Turkish guard, and send secretly to Constantinople to borrow from European money-lenders. All refused to lend to a king who seemed to be powerless to pay; but one English merchant, named Cook, at last ventured to lend 40,000 crowns, taking the risk of losing them if the King of Sweden was killed. They took the money to the King’s camp, just as they were feeling actual want, and were beginning to despair of supplies.

In the meantime M. Poniatowski wrote actually from the Grand Vizir’s camp an account of the Pruth campaign, accusing the Vizir of cowardice and treachery. An old janissary, enraged at the weakness of the Vizir, and bribed by Poniatowski, undertook the delivery of the letter, and, having got his discharge, presented it with his own hands to the Sultan. Some days later Poniatowski set out from the camp and went to the Ottoman Porte to form intrigues against the Grand Vizir as usual.

All seemed to favour the design. The Czar, now at liberty, was in no hurry to carry out his promises; the keys of Azov did not come, and the Grand Vizir, who was responsible for them, justly fearing his master’s resentment, dare not appear in his presence.

The seraglio was then more full of intrigues and factions than ever. These cabals, which exist at all courts, and which, in our case, generally end in the removal of a minister from office, or at most by a banishment, always meant more than one execution in Constantinople.

It ended in the execution of the former Vizir Chourlouli, and of Osman, the lieutenant of Baltagi, who was the chief author of the Peace of Pruth, and who since the peace had held a prominent office at the Porte. Among the treasures of Osman they found the Czarina’s ring and 20,000 gold pieces, in Saxon, Polish and Russian coin; this was a proof that it was money alone which had rescued the Czar from his perilous position, and had ruined the chances of Charles XII. The Vizir, Baltagi, was exiled to the isle of Lemnos, where he died three years later. The Sultan did not confiscate his property either at his exile or at his death; he was not rich, and his poverty protects his memory.

This Grand Vizir was succeeded by Joseph, whose fortune was as singular as that of his predecessors. He was a Russian by birth, and had been taken prisoner by the Turks at six years of age with his family, and had been sold to a janissary. He was long a valet in the seraglio, then became the second person in the empire where he had been a slave. But he was only the shadow of a minister.

The young Ali-Coumourgi had placed him in the slippery post until he could seize it himself, and Joseph, his creature, had nothing else to do but affix the Imperial seals to the favourite’s desires. The policy of the Ottoman Court seemed to be revolutionized from the very beginning of this Vizir’s ministry. The Czar’s plenipotentiaries, who lived at Constantinople both as ministers and hostages, were better treated than ever; the Grand Vizir countersigned the Peace of Pruth with them. But that which annoyed the King of Sweden more than all else was the news that the secret alliance made at Constantinople with the Czar was brought about by the mediation of the English and Dutch ambassadors.

Since Charles’s retreat to Bender, Constantinople was occupying the position that Rome had so often held, as the centre of the business of Christendom. Count Desaleurs, the French ambassador at the Porte, was supporting the interests of Charles and of Stanislas; the Emperor of Germany’s minister was opposing them. The Swedish and Russian factions were falling foul of each other, as those of France and Spain have long done at the Court of Rome.

England and Holland posed as neutrals, but were not really such; the new trade of Saint Petersburg attracted the attention of those two trading powers.

The English and the Dutch are always on the side of the prince who most favours their trade, and there was just then much to be gained from the Czar, so that it is no wonder that the English and Dutch ministers should work secretly in his interest at the Porte. One of the conditions of this new alliance was that Charles should at once be driven from the Turkish dominions.

Perhaps the Czar thought him less formidable at home than in Turkey, where he was always on the spot ready to raise the Ottoman arms against the Russian empire, or perhaps he hoped to seize him en route. The King of Sweden continued his petitions to the Porte to send him home through Poland with a large army. The Divan resolved to send him back, but only with a guard of 7,000 or 8,000 men, not like a King they wished to help, but as a guest they were anxious to be rid of. With this object in view the Sultan Achmet wrote him the following letter:

“Most powerful of the Princes that worship Jesus, redressor of wrongs and injuries, and protector of justice in the ports and republics of South and North, shining in Majesty, lover of Honour and Glory, and of our sublime Porte, Charles, King of Sweden, whose enterprises may God crown with success.

“As soon as the most illustrious Achmet, formerly Chiaoux-Pasha, shall have the honour to present this letter to you, adorned with our Imperial seal, be persuaded and convinced of the truth of our intentions expressed therein, namely, that, although we had planned to march again against the Czar, yet that Prince, to avoid our just resentment at his delay in the execution of the treaty concluded on the banks of the Pruth, and renewed again at our sublime Porte, having surrendered to us the castle and city of Azov, and having endeavoured by the mediation of the English and Dutch ambassadors, our ancient allies, to form a lasting peace with us, we have granted his request, and given up his plenipotentiaries, who remain with us as hostages, our Imperial ratification, after having received his from their hands.

“We have given our inviolable and salutary orders to the right honourable Delvet Gharai, Khan of Budziac, of Crimea, Nagai, and Circassia, and to our wise counsellor and noble serasquier of Bender, Ishmael (whom God preserve and increase in magnificence and wisdom), for your return through Poland, according to your first plan which has been again laid before us from you. You must, therefore, prepare to set out next winter under the guidance of Providence and with an honourable guard, that you may return to your own territories, taking care to pass through Poland in a peaceable and friendly manner.

“You will be provided by my sublime Porte with all that is needed for your journey, both money, men, horses and wagons. But above all else we advise and exhort you to give the most express and detailed orders to the Swedes and other soldiers in your retinue not to commit any act of disorder, nor be guilty of any action which may either directly or indirectly tend to the breach of this peace. By that means you will preserve our good-will, of which we shall endeavour to give great and frequent proofs as we shall find opportunity. The troops to attend you shall receive orders to that effect, according to our Imperial will and pleasure.

“Given at our sublime Porte of Constantinople on the 14th of the month Rebyul Eureb, 1214. Which corresponds to the 19th April, 1712.”

This letter did not, however, entirely destroy the hopes of the King of Sweden. He wrote to the Sultan that he was ready to go, and would never forget the favour he had shown him; but he added that he believed the Sultan was too just to send him away with nothing but a flying camp through a country already overrun with the Czar’s troops. Indeed, the Emperor of Russia, in spite of the fact that the first article of the Treaty of Pruth obliged him to withdraw his forces from Poland, had sent recruits thither, and it seemed strange that the Sultan was ignorant of the fact. The bad policy and vanity of the Porte in suffering the Christian princes to maintain their ambassadors at Constantinople, and not keeping one single agent in any Christian court, gives the former an opportunity of probing and sometimes of directing the Sultan’s most secret resolutions, while the Divan is always ignorant of the most public transactions of Christendom. The Sultan, shut up in the seraglio among his women and his eunuchs, sees only through the Grand Vizir’s eyes; the latter is as inaccessible as his master, taken up with the intrigues of the seraglio, and without any communication with the world outside. He is therefore generally imposed on himself, or imposes on the Sultan, who deposes him or has him strangled for his first mistake, in order to choose another as ignorant or as treacherous as the former, who behaves in the same way as his predecessors and falls as soon as they.

Such is, for the most part, the negligence and profound security of this Court, that if the Christian princes leagued against the Porte their fleets would be at the Dardanelles and their army at the gates of Adrianople before the Turks could think of taking the defensive. But the different interests which divide Christendom will protect that people from a fate for which they at present seem ripe in their want of policy and their ignorance in war and naval matters.

Achmet was so little acquainted with what was happening in Poland that he sent an aga to see if the Czar’s forces were there or not. Two of the King of Sweden’s secretaries, who understood Turkish, went with him, to keep a check on him in the event of a false report. The aga saw the forces with his own eyes and gave the Sultan a true account of the matter. Achmet, in a rage, was going to strangle the Grand Vizir, but the favourite, who protected him, and thought he might prove useful, got him pardoned and kept him some time in the ministry.

The Russians were openly protected by the Vizir, and secretly by Ali-Coumourgi, who had changed sides; but the Sultan was so angry, the infraction of the Treaty was so palpable, and the janissaries, who often make the ministers, favourites and Sultans themselves tremble, clamoured so loudly for war that no one in the seraglio dare counsel moderation.

The Sultan at once put the Russian ambassadors, who were already as accustomed to go to prison as to a concert, in the seven towers. War was declared again against the Czar, the horse-tails hoisted, and orders issued to all the pashas to raise an army of 200,000 fighting men. The Sultan left Constantinople for Adrianople in order to be nearer the seat of war.

In the meantime a solemn embassy from Augustus and the republics of Poland to the Sultan was on the road to Adrianople. At the head of this embassy was the Prince of Massovia with a retinue of 300 persons. They were all seized and imprisoned in the suburbs of the city. Never was the Swedish party more hopeful than on this occasion; but these great preparations came to nothing, and all their hopes were dashed. If a minister of great wisdom and foresight, who was then living at Constantinople, is to be credited, young Coumourgi had other plans in his head than hazarding a war with the Czar to gain a desert. He wanted to take Peloponnesus, now called Morea, from the Venetians, and to make himself master of Hungary.

To carry out his great designs he wanted nothing but the office of Grand Vizir, for which he was thought too young. With this in view the friendship of the Czar was more important to him than his enmity. It was neither to his interest nor to his inclination to keep the King of Sweden any longer, much less to raise a Turkish army for him. He not only advocated sending the Prince away, but declared openly that henceforth no Christian minister ought to be tolerated at Constantinople; that the ordinary ambassadors were only honourable spies, who corrupted or betrayed the vizirs, and had too long interfered in the affairs of the seraglio; that the Franks settled at Pera, and in the commercial ports on the Levant, were merchants, who needed no ambassador, but only a consul. The Grand Vizir, who owed both his position and his life to the favourite, and who feared him besides, complied with his plans the more readily that he had sold himself to the Russians, and hoped to be avenged on the King of Sweden, who would have ruined him.

The Mufti, Ali-Coumourgi’s creature, was also completely under his thumb: he had given the vote for war against the Czar when the favourite was on that side, but he declared it to be unjust as soon as the youth had changed his mind. Thus the army was scarcely collected before they began to listen to proposals for a reconciliation. After several negotiations the vice-chancellor Shaffiroff and young Czeremetoff, the Czar’s plenipotentiaries and hostages at the Porte, promised that the troops should be withdrawn from Poland. The Grand Vizir, who knew that the Czar would not carry out this treaty, decided to sign it for all that; and the Sultan, content with the semblance of laying down the law to the Russians, remained at Adrianople. Thus, in less than six months, peace was made with the Czar, then war was declared, then peace was renewed.

The main article of all the treaties was that the King of Sweden should be forced to depart. The Sultan would not imperil his own honour and that of the Porte to the extent of exposing the King to the risk of being captured en route by his enemies. It was stipulated that he should be sent away, but on condition that the ambassadors of Poland and Russia should be responsible for the safety of his person; these ambassadors swore, in their masters’ names, that neither the Czar nor Augustus should molest him on his journey. On the other hand, Charles was not to endeavour to make any disturbance in Poland. The Divan, having thus determined the fate of Charles, Ishmael, serasquier of Bender, repaired to Varnitsa, where the King was encamped, and acquainted him with the Porte’s resolve, explaining civilly enough that there was no time for delay, but that he must go. Charles’s only answer was that the Sultan had promised him an army and not a guard, and that kings ought to keep their word.

In the meantime General Fleming, King Augustus’s minister and favourite, maintained a private correspondence with the Kan of Tartary and the serasquier of Bender. A German colonel, whose name was La Mare, had made more than one journey from Bender to Dresden, and these were an object of suspicion.

Just at this time the King of Sweden caused a courier sent from Fleming to the Tartar prince to be seized on the Wallachian frontier. The letters were brought to him and deciphered; there was obviously a correspondence going on between the Tartars and Dresden, but the references were so general and ambiguous that it was hard to say whether King Augustus’s plan was to detach the Turks from the Swedish alliance, or to persuade the Kan to hand over Charles to his Saxons as he attended him on the road to Poland.

It is hard to imagine that so generous a prince as Augustus would, for the sake of seizing the King of Sweden, risk the lives of his ambassadors and 300 Poles, detained at Adrianople as hostages for Charles’s safety.

On the other hand, Fleming was absolute, very shrewd, and quite unscrupulous. The outrageous treatment of the Elector by King Charles might be thought an excuse for any method of revenge, and if the Court of Dresden could buy Charles of the Kan of Tartary they may have thought that it would be no difficult matter to purchase the liberty of the Polish hostages of the Ottoman Porte.

These reasons were argued between the King, Mullern, his private chancellor, and his favourite Grothusen. They read the letters over and over again, and, their wretched plight increasing their suspicions, they resolved to believe the worst.

Some days later the King was confirmed in his suspicions by the sudden departure of Count Sapieha, who had sought refuge with him, and now left him suddenly to go to Poland and throw himself into the arms of Augustus. On any other occasion he would have regarded Sapieha as a malcontent, but in the critical state of affairs he felt certain that he was a traitor; the repeated requests to him to begone made his suspicions a certainty. His own positiveness, together with all these probabilities, made him continue in the certainty that there had been a plot to betray him and deliver him up to his enemies, although the plot had never been proved.

He might be wrong in thinking King Augustus had made a bargain with the Tartars for his person, but he was much more so in depending on the Ottoman Porte. But in any case he resolved to gain time. He told the Pasha of Bender that he could not go till he had the wherewithal to pay his debts, for though his thaim had been regularly paid his liberality had always forced him to borrow. The Pasha asked how much he needed. The King at hazard 1,000 purses, that is, about 1,500,000 francs French money full weight. The Pasha wrote to his master about it; the Sultan, instead of the 1,000 purses which he demanded, sent him 1,200 with the following letter to the Pasha—

“The object of this Imperial letter is to inform you that, upon your representation and request, and that of the right noble Delvet Gherai Kan to our sublime Porte, our Imperial munificence has granted the King of Sweden 1,000 purses, which shall be sent to Bender in the custody of the most illustrious Mahomet Pasha, to remain in your hands till such time as the King of Sweden departs, whose steps may God direct, and then to be given him with 200 purses more, as an overplus of our Imperial liberality beyond what he desires. As to the route through Poland, which he has decided on, you and the Kan, who are to accompany him, must be careful to take such prudent and wise measures as shall prevent, during the whole journey, the troops under your command and those of the King of Sweden from any disorderly conduct or anything which may be reckoned a breach of the peace between our sublime Porte and the realm and republic of Poland, so that the King of Sweden may travel as a friend under our protection.

“By so doing (and you are to desire it of him in set terms) he will receive all the honour and respect due to his Majesty from the Poles, as we have been assured by the ambassadors of King Augustus and the republic, who have offered themselves and certain other of the Polish nobility, if required, as hostages for his safe passage. At the time which you and the right noble Delvet shall agree on for the march you shall put yourselves at the head of your brave soldiers, among whom shall be the Tartars, led by the Kan, and go with the King and his men.

“May it please the only God, the Almighty, to direct your steps and theirs. The Pasha of Aulis shall continue at Bender, with a regiment of spahis and another of janissaries, to defend it in your absence. Now, by following our Imperial orders and wishes in all these points and details, you will earn the continuance of our royal favour, as well as the praise and rewards due to all such as observe them.

“Given at our Imperial residence of Constantinople, the 2nd day of the month Cheval, 1124 of the Hegira.”

While they were waiting for the Sultan’s answer the King had written to the Porte, to complain of the supposed treachery of the Kan. But the passages were well guarded, and the ministry against him, so that his letters never reached the Sultan. The Vizir would not allow M. Desaleurs to go to Adrianople, where the Porte then was, lest he, as the King of Sweden’s agent, tried to thwart their design of driving him away. Charles, indignant at seeing himself hunted, as it were, from the Sultan’s territory, resolved not to stir a step. He might have asked to return through German territory, or to take ship at the Black Sea, in order to reach Marseilles by the Mediterranean, but he preferred to ask no favour and see what happened.

When the 1,200 purses arrived, his treasurer, Grothusen, who from long residence in Turkey had learned to speak the language, went to the Pasha without an interpreter, hoping to get the money from him, and then to form some new intrigue at the Porte, on the false supposition that the Swedish party would at last arm the Ottoman Empire against the Czar.

Grothusen told the Pasha that the King’s equipage could not be prepared without money. “But,” said the Pasha, “we are going to defray all the expense of departure; your master will have no expenses while he continues under the protection of mine.” Grothusen replied that the difference between the Turkish equipages and those of the Franks was so great that they must apply to the Swedish and Polish workmen at Varnitsa.

He assured him that his master was ready to go and that this money would facilitate and hasten his departure. The too credulous Pasha gave him the 1,200 purses, and in a few days came and respectfully asked the King to give orders for his departure.

He was most surprised when the King told him he was not ready to go and that he wanted 1,000 purses more. The Pasha was overcome by this, and remained speechless for some time; then he walked to a window, where he was seen to shed some tears. Then, turning to the King, he said, “I shall lose my head for having obliged your Majesty. I have given you the 1,200 purses contrary to the express orders of my sovereign.” With these words he took leave and was going away full of grief.

The King stopped him and told him he would excuse him to the Sultan. “Ah!” replied the Turk, “my master can punish mistakes, but not excuse them.”

Ishmael Pasha went to tell the news to the Kan of Tartary. The Kan, having received the same order as the Pasha, not to let the 1,200 purses be delivered before the King’s departure, and having agreed to their delivery, was as apprehensive of the Sultan’s resentment as the Pasha himself. They both wrote to the Porte to clear themselves, and explained that they had only parted with the 1,200 purses on a solemn promise made by the King’s minister that they would go at once, and they entreated his Highness not to attribute the King’s refusal to their disobedience.

Charles, quite convinced that the Kan and the Pasha intended to hand him over to his enemies, ordered M. Funk, his envoy at the Ottoman Court, to lay his complaints against them before the Sultan and to ask for 1,000 purses more. His great generosity, and his indifference to money, hindered him from seeing the baseness of this proposal. He only did it to get a refusal so that then he might have a fresh pretext for failing to depart; but a man must be reduced to great straits when he has recourse to such tricks. Savari, his interpreter, a crafty and enterprising character, carried the letter to Adrianople in spite of the Grand Vizir’s care to have the roads guarded. Funk was forced to go and deliver this dangerous message, and all the answer he got was imprisonment.

Thoroughly angry, the Sultan called an extraordinary Divan and made a speech at it himself. His speech, according to the translation then made of it, was as follows—

“I hardly knew the King of Sweden, but from his defeat at Pultawa and the request he made to me to grant him sanctuary in my empire. I am under no obligation to him, nor have I any reason either to love or fear him; yet, thinking only of the hospitality of a Mussulman and my own generosity, which sheds the dew of its favour on small and great alike, I received and aided him, his ministers, officers and soldiers, in every respect, and for three years and a half have continually loaded him with presents.

“I have granted him a considerable guard to take him to his own country. He has asked for 1,000 purses to defray expenses, though I am paying them all, and instead of 1,000 I have granted him 1,200. After getting these from the serasquier of Bender he wants 1,000 more, and refuses to go under the pretext that the guard is too small, whereas it is too large to pass through the country of a friend and ally. I ask you, then, is it any breach of the laws of hospitality to send this prince away, and whether foreign princes would have any ground for accusing me of cruelty and injustice if I used force to make him go?”

All the Divan answered that the Sultan might lawfully do as he said.

The Mufti declared that Mussulmans are not bound to offer hospitality to infidels, much less to the ungrateful, and he granted his festa, a kind of mandate, which generally accompanies the Sultan’s important orders. These festas are revered as oracles, though the persons who issue them are as much the Sultan’s slaves as any others.

The order and the festa were taken to Bender by the Master of the Horse and the first Usher. The Pasha of Bender received the order at the Kan’s, whence he went at once to the Varnitsa to ask if the King would go away in a friendly way, or would force him to carry out the Sultan’s orders.

Charles XII, not being used to this threatening language, could not command his temper. “Obey your master if you dare,” he said, “and begone.” The Pasha in indignation set off at a gallop, an unusual thing with a Turk. On the return journey he met M. Fabricius, and called out to him without stopping, “The King won’t listen to reason; you’ll see strange doings presently.” The same day he cut off the King’s supplies and removed the guard of janissaries. He also sent to the Poles and Cossacks to let them know that if they wanted to get any provisions they must leave the King of Sweden’s camp and come and put themselves under the protection of the Porte at Bender.

They all obeyed and left the King, with only the officers of his household and 300 Swedes, to cope with 2,000 Tartars and 6,000 Turks. There was now no more provision in the camp for man or beast. The King at once gave orders that the twenty fine Arabian horses they had given him should be shot, saying, “I will have neither their food nor their horses.” This made a great feast for the Tartars, who, as every one knows, think that horse-flesh is delicious. In the meantime the Turks and Tartars invested the little camp on all sides.

The King, with no signs of panic, appointed his 300 Swedes to make regular fortifications, and worked at them himself. His chancellor, treasurer, secretaries, valets, and all his servants, lent a hand to the work. Some barricaded the windows, others took the bars behind the doors and placed them like buttresses.

When the house was well barricaded, and the King had reviewed his pretences at fortifications, he began to play chess unconcernedly with his favourite Grothusen, as if everything had been perfectly safe and secure. It happened very luckily that Fabricius, the envoy of Holstein, did not lodge at Varnitsa, but at a small village between Varnitsa and Bender, where Mr. Jeffreys, the English envoy to the King of Sweden, lived also. These two ministers, seeing that the storm was about to break, undertook to mediate between the Turks and the King. The Kan, and especially the Pasha of Bender, who had no intention of hurting the monarch, were glad of the offers of their services. They had two conferences together at Bender, at which the Usher of the seraglio, and the Grand Master of the Horse, who had brought the order from the Sultan, were present.

M. Fabricius owned to them that the Swedish King had good reason to believe that they intended to give him up to his enemies in Poland. The Kan, the Pasha, and the rest, swore on their heads, calling God to witness, that they detested the thought of such a horrible piece of treachery, and would shed the last drop of their blood rather than show the least lack of respect to the King in Poland.

They added that they had the Russian and Polish ambassadors in their power, and that their lives should answer for the least affront offered to the King of Sweden. In a word, they complained bitterly of the outrageous suspicions which the King was harbouring about people who had received and treated him so well. And though oaths are often the language of treachery, M. Fabricius allowed himself to be persuaded by these barbarians. He thought he saw that air of truth in their protests which falsehood imitates but lamely; he knew that there was a secret correspondence between the Tartar Kan and Augustus, but he remained convinced that the object of this negotiation was only to force Charles to retire from the territories of the Sultan.

But whether Fabricius was mistaken or not he assured them that he would represent to the King the unreasonableness of his jealousies. “But do you intend to force him to go?” he added. “Yes,” answered the Pasha, “such are our master’s orders.” Then he desired them to consider again whether that order was to spill the blood of a crowned head. “Yes,” answered the Kan with warmth, “if that head disobeys the Sultan in his own dominions.”

In the meantime everything was ready for the assault, and Charles’s death seemed inevitable; but as the Sultan’s command was not positively to kill him in case of resistance, the Pasha prevailed on the Kan to send a messenger that moment to Adrianople, to receive his Highness’s final orders.

Mr. Jeffreys and M. Fabricius, having got this respite, hurried to acquaint the King with it. They hastened like bearers of good news, and were received very coldly; he called them forward, meddling mediators, and still insisted that the Sultan’s order and the Mufti’s festa were forged, because they had sent for fresh orders to the Porte. The English minister withdrew, resolving to trouble himself no further with the affairs of so obstinate a prince. M. Fabricius, a favourite of the King, and more accustomed to his whims than the English minister, stayed with him, to exhort him not to risk so valuable a life on so futile an occasion.

The only reply the King made was to show him his fortifications and to beg him to mediate so far as to obtain provisions for him. Leave was easily obtained from the Turks to let provisions pass into the King’s camp till the couriers should return from Adrianople. The Kan himself had forbidden the Tartars to make any attempt on the Swedes till a new order came; so that Charles went out of his camp sometimes with forty horse, and rode through the midst of the Tartar troops, who respectfully left him a free passage; he even marched right up to their lines, and they did not resist, but opened to him.

At last the Sultan’s order arrived with command to put to the sword all the Swedes who made the least resistance, and not to spare the King’s life; the Pasha had the civility to show the order to M. Fabricius, that he might make a last effort with Charles. Fabricius went at once to tell him his bad news. “Have you seen the order you refer to?” said the King. “I have,” replied Fabricius. “Tell them,” said the King, “from me that this order is a second forgery of theirs, and that I will not go.” Fabricius fell at his feet in a transport of rage, and scolded him for his obstinacy. “Go back to your Turks,” said the King, smiling at him; “if they attack me, I know how to defend myself.”

The King’s chaplains also fell on their knees before him, beseeching him not to expose the wretched remnant over from Pultawa, and above all, his own sacred person, to death; adding, besides, that resistance in this case was a most unwarrantable deed, and that it was a violation of the laws of hospitality to resolve to stay against their will with strangers who had so long and generously supported him. The King, who had showed no resentment with Fabricius, became angry on this occasion, and told his priests that he employed them to pray for him, and not to give him advice.

General Hoord and General Dardoff, who had always been against venturing a battle which in the result must prove fatal, showed the King their breasts, covered with wounds received in his service, and assured him that they were ready to die for him, and begged him that it might be on a more worthy occasion.

“I know,” said the King, “by my wounds and yours that we have fought valiantly together. You have hitherto done your duty; do it again now.”

The only thing remaining was to obey; they were all ashamed not to seek death with their King. He prepared for the assault, secretly gloating over the pleasure and honour of resisting with 300 Swedes the efforts of a whole army. He gave every man his place; his chancellor, Mullern, his secretary, Empreus, and the clerks were to defend the Chancery house; Baron Fief, at the head of the officers of the kitchen, was to defend another post; the grooms of the stables and the cooks had another place to guard, for with him every man was a soldier. He rode from his fortifications to his house, promising rewards to every one, creating officers, and declaring that he would make his humblest servant captain if he behaved with valour in the engagement.

It was not long before they saw the Turks and Tartars advancing to attack the little fortress with ten cannon and two mortars. The horse-tails waved in the air, the clarions brayed, and cries of “Alla, Alla,” were heard on all sides. Baron Grothusen remarked that they were not abusing the King as they shouted, but only calling him “demirbash,” i.e. iron-head; so he resolved to go alone and unarmed out of the fort. He advanced to the line of the janissaries, who had almost all of them received money from him. “What, my friends,” he said in their own language, “have you come to massacre 300 defenceless Swedes? You brave janissaries, who have pardoned 100,000 Russians, when they cried Amman (pardon) to you, have you forgotten the kindness you have received at our hands? And would you assassinate the King of Sweden whom you loved so much, and who has been so generous to you? My friends, he asks only three days, and the Sultan’s orders are not so strict as they would make you believe.”

These words had an effect which Grothusen himself had not expected; the janissaries swore on their beards that they would not attack the King, and would give him the three days that he demanded. In vain was the signal given for assault. The janissaries, far from obeying, threatened to turn their arms against their leaders if three days were not granted to the King of Sweden. They came to the Pasha of Bender’s tent in a band, crying that the Sultan’s orders were forged. To this sedition the Pasha could oppose nothing but patience.

He pretended to be pleased with the generous resolve of the janissaries, and ordered them to retreat to Bender. The Kan of Tartary, who was a passionate man, would have made the assault at once with his own troops; but the Pasha, who would not allow the Tartars alone to have the honour of taking the King while he might perhaps be punished for the disobedience of his janissaries, persuaded the Kan to wait till next day.

The Pasha returning to Bender, assembled all the officers of the janissaries, and the older soldiers; he read them and showed them the positive command of the Sultan, and the mandate of the Mufti. Sixty of the oldest of them, with venerable grey beards, who had received innumerable presents from the King, proposed to go to him in person, and entreat him to put himself into their hands, and permit them to serve him as guards.

The Pasha consented; for there was no stone he would leave unturned rather than be forced to kill the King. So these sixty old soldiers went next morning to Varnitsa, having nothing in their hands but long white staves, their only weapon when they intend not to fight; for the Turks consider it a barbarous custom of the Christians to wear swords in time of peace, and to go armed to the churches or the houses of friends.

They addressed themselves to Baron Grothusen and Chancellor Mullern; they told them that they had come with the intention of serving as faithful guards to the King, and that if he pleased they would conduct him to Adrianople, where he might speak to the Sultan in person. While they were making the proposal the King read the letters that had come from Constantinople and that Fabricius, who could not see him again, had sent to him privately by a janissary. These letters were from Count Poniatowski, who could neither serve him at Bender nor at Adrianople, having been detained at Constantinople by the Czar’s order, from the time of the imprudent demand of 1,000 purses. He told the King that the Sultan’s order to seize his royal person was only too true, that the Sultan was indeed imposed upon by his ministers; but that the more he was imposed upon in the matter the more he would be obeyed, that he must submit to the times and yield to necessity, and that he took the liberty of advising him to attempt all that was possible in the way of negotiation with the ministers, not to be inflexible in a case where the gentlest methods would prevail, and to trust to time and diplomacy the healing of an evil which rough handling would aggravate beyond the hope of recovery.

But neither the proposal of the old janissaries nor Poniatowski’s letters could in the least convince the King that it was possible for him to give way without injuring his honour; he would rather die by the hands of the Turks than be in any sense their prisoner. He dismissed the janissaries without seeing them, sending them word that if they did not hurry he would shave their beards for them, which in the East is considered the most provoking affront that can be offered.

The old soldiers, in a rage, returned home, crying, “Down with this iron-head. Since he is resolved to die, let him.” They gave the Pasha an account of their mission, and told their comrades at Bender of the strange reception they had met with. Then all swore to obey the orders of the Pasha without delay, and they were now as eager for the assault as they had been adverse to it the day before. The word was given at once; they marched up to the entrenchments, the Tartars were already waiting for them, and the ten cannon began to play. The janissaries on one side and the Tartars on the other, forced this little camp in an instant. Twenty Swedes had scarcely time to draw their swords, the 300 were surrounded and taken prisoners without resistance. The King was then on horseback between his house and his camp, with Generals Hoord, Dardoff and Sparre; seeing that all his soldiers had suffered themselves to be taken before his eyes, he said with sangfroid to those three officers, “Let us go and defend the house. We’ll fight,” he added with a smile, “pro aris et focis.”

With them he immediately galloped up to the house, where he had placed about forty servants as sentinels, and which they had fortified as best they could.

These generals, though they were accustomed to the obstinate courage of their master, could not but be surprised that in cold blood and in jest he should propose that they should defend themselves against ten cannon and a whole army; they followed him with twenty guards and domestics.

But when they were at the door, they found it besieged by janissaries. Besides, nearly 200 Turks and Tartars had already got in at a window, and had seized all the rooms, except a great hall, whither the King’s servants had withdrawn. Luckily this hall was near the door at which the King intended entering with his twenty men. He threw himself from his horse, pistol and sword in hand, and his followers did the same.

The janissaries fell on him from all sides, encouraged by the Pasha’s promise of eight gold ducats to any who did but touch his coat, in case they could not take him. He wounded and killed all that came near him. A janissary, whom he had wounded, stuck his musket in the King’s face, and if the arm of a Turk had not jostled him in the crowd the King would have been killed. The ball grazed his nose, and took off a piece of his ear, and then broke the arm of General Hoord, whose fate it was always to be wounded at his master’s side.

The King stuck his sword into the janissary’s breast, and at the same time his servants, who were shut up in the hall, opened the door to him. He and his little troop slipped in as swiftly as an arrow; they losed the door at once, and barricaded it with all they could find. Behold Charles shut up in this hall with all his attendants, about three-score men, officers, secretaries, valets, and servants of all kinds!

The janissaries and the Tartars pillaged the rest of the house and filled the rooms. “Come,” said the King, “let us go and drive out these barbarians.” Then, putting himself at the head of his men, he, with his own hands, opened the door of the hall, which opened into his bedroom, went in and fired on his plunderers.

The Turks, laden with booty, terrified at the sudden appearance of the King whom they had reverenced, threw down their arms and jumped out of the window or fled to the cellars. The King, taking advantage of their confusion, and his own men being animated with this piece of success, pursued the Turks from room to room, killed or wounded those who had not made their escape, and in a quarter of an hour cleared the house of the enemy.

In the heat of the combat the King saw two janissaries who had hidden themselves under his bed. He thrust one through, but the other asked pardon, saying “Amman.” “I grant you your life,” said the King, “on condition that you go and give the Pasha a faithful account of what you have seen.” The Turk readily promised to do as he was told, and was then allowed to leap out of the window like the others.

The Swedes were at last masters of the house again, and shut and barricaded the windows. They did not lack arms, for a room on the ground floor, full of muskets and powder, had escaped the tumultuous search of the janissaries. This they turned to good account, firing close on the Turks through the window, and killing 200 of them in less than a quarter of an hour.

The cannon played against the house, but as the stones were very soft they only made holes in the wall, but demolished nothing.

The Kan of Tartary and the Pasha, who wanted to take the King alive, ashamed at losing time and men, and employing a whole army against sixty persons, thought it expedient to fire the house in order to force the King to surrender; they had arrows twisted with lighted matches shot on to the roof and against the door and windows; by this means the whole house was soon in flames; the roof, all in flames, was about to fall on the Swedes. The King quietly gave orders for extinguishing the fire, and finding a small barrel full of liquor he took hold of it himself, and with the help of two Swedes, threw it on the place where the fire was most violent. Then he found that it was full of brandy. The fire burned more furiously than ever, the King’s room was burned, and the great hall, where the Swedes were then, was filled with terrible smoke mingled with tongues of flame, that came in through the doors of the next rooms. Half the roof fell in, and the other had fallen outside the house, cracking among the flames.

A guard called Walberg ventured, when things had got to this pass, to say that they must surrender. “What a strange man this is,” said the King, “to imagine that it is not more glorious to be burned than to be taken prisoner.” Another guard, called Rosen, remarked that the Chancery-house, which was only fifty paces away, had a stone roof, and was fire-proof; that they might well sally out, gain that house, and there stand on the defensive.

“A true Swede,” cried the King; then he embraced him and made him a colonel on the spot. “Come on, my friends,” he said, “take all the powder and ball you can carry, and let us gain Chancery, sword in hand.” The Turks, who were all this while round the house, were struck with fear and admiration at seeing that the Swedes were staying inside in spite of the flames. But they were much more astonished when they saw them open the doors, and the King and his men fall on them desperately. Charles and his leading officer were armed with sword and pistol. Every one fired two pistols at a time at the instant that the door opened, and in a flash throwing away their pistols, and drawing their swords, they drove back the Turks fifty paces; but the next moment the little band was surrounded.

The King, booted according to custom, got his spurs entangled and fell. At once one-and-twenty janissaries fell on him, disarmed him, and took him away to the quarters of the Pasha, some holding his arms and others his legs, as a sick man is carried for fear of incommoding him.

As soon as the King saw himself in their hands, the violence of his rage and the fury which so long and desperate a fight had naturally inspired, gave way to gentleness and calm; not one impatient word escaped him, not one frown was to be seen. He smiled at the janissaries, and they carried him, crying “Alla,” with mingled indignation and respect. His officers were taken at the same time, and stripped by the Turks and Tartars. This strange adventure happened on the 12th of February, 1713. It had extraordinary consequences.

 

BOOK VII

The Turks remove Charles to Demirtash—King Stanislas is seized at the same time—Bold action of M. de Villelongue—Revolutions in the seraglio—Battles in Pomerania—Altena is burnt by the Swedes—Charles returns to his kingdom—His strange method of travelling—His arrival at Stralsund—The state of Europe at that time—The losses of King Charles—The successes of Peter the Great—His triumphal entry into Petersburg.