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A History of the Knights of Malta/Chapter 14

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A History of the Knights of Malta, or the Order of St. John of Jerusalem (1883)
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4777266A History of the Knights of Malta, or the Order of St. John of Jerusalem — Chapter 141883
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CHAPTER XIV.

1521—1522.

  • Election of L’Isle Adam
  • Fall of Belgrade
  • Correspondence with Solyman
  • Preparations for defence
  • Detail of the Turkish forces
  • Arrival of the Ottoman army at Rhodes
  • Commencement of the siege
  • Plot by a female slave within the city
  • Detail of Turkish artillery
  • Construction of cavaliers
  • Mining operations
  • Assault on the tower of St. Mary
  • Repeated attacks and their repulse
  • Accusations against the chancellor D’Amaral
  • His trial and execution
  • Devotion of the Rhodian women
  • Negotiations for surrender
  • Terms offered by Solyman
  • Their acceptance, and close of the siege by the surrender of the island.

On the death of Carretto, as recorded in Chapter XII., a warm contest ensued for the election of his successor, the names of three candidates having been brought forward by their respective partisans. One of these was Andrew D’Amaral, or, as he was sometimes called, Del Miral, who was at the time the chancellor of the Order. His arrogance and haughty temper had, however, created him too many enemies to render his success in the slightest degree probable. The weight of the struggle lay, therefore, between the other two candidates, Thomas Docwra, or Docray, the grand-prior of England, and Philip Villiers de L’Isle Adam, grand-prior of France. Docray was a man whose experience in diplomacy had rendered his name celebrated amongst the fraternity. He was, moreover, in the possession of a magnificent private fortune, a fact which added greatly to the weight of his claims; but as the whole of the French interest was centred in L’Isle Adam, and as that interest was overpoweringly great, the vote was decided against Docray, and L’Isle Adam was proclaimed the forty-second Grand-Master.

Docray was among the first to offer his warm congratulations to his successful rival, all the more sincere possibly, as the ​post was at the moment one of the most serious responsibility and difficulty. D’Amaral, on the other hand, felt so keenly the slight which he considered his rejection had cast on him, that he gave way to the most unwarrantable bitterness of temper. Whilst in this mood he is reported to have uttered a speech which was subsequently quoted against him, and which materially assisted in bringing him to the scaffold. He was supposed to have remarked, upon hearing of the election of L’Isle Adam, that he would be the last Grand- Master of Rhodes.

L’Isle Adam was residing in his priory at the time of his election, but sensible of the importance of. the crisis, and the imminence of the danger which threatened the convent, he set sail at once for Rhodes in the great carrack which had been despatched to Marseilles for his conveyance. A succession of disasters overtook the little squadron during the voyage. On one occasion the carrack caught fire, and was only saved by the strenuous exertions of the crew. Immediately afterwards they were assailed by a violent tempest, in the midst of which the ship was struck by lightning. Nine of the crew were killed, and L’Isle Adam’s sword, which was hanging by his side, was destroyed, without, however, causing the slightest injury to his person. Such a combination of untoward circumstances excited the superstition of his attendants, and they earnestly besought him to abandon the voyage. L’Isle Adam was not the man to be deterred from his purpose by vague terrors, and so in spite of every obstacle he held steadily on his course. Whilst at Syracuse, he learnt that the pirate Curtoglu was hovering around Cape St. Angelo with the object of effecting his capture. Passing the point of peril under cover of night, he succeeded in evading the treacherous corsair, and reached Rhodes in safety.

In the summer of that year Solyman brought the siege of Belgrade to a successful conclusion, and his banner waved in triumph over its ruined ramparts. This victory accomplished, the Ottoman emperor found himself at leisure to turn his attention once more to that dream of his youthful ambition, the capture of Rhodes.[1] The recollection that the forces of his ​ancestor had been driven in confusion from its shores only rendered the project all the more attractive in his eyes. In addition to the desire which he naturally felt to remove the stigma cast on the Turkish arms by the former failure, it would be to him a great enhancement of glory to succeed in an undertaking in which so mighty a monarch as Mahomet had failed. In this ambitious view he was warmly seconded by many of his courtiers, although in the divan opinions were much divided on the subject.

The more cautious amongst his counsellors remembered with bitterness the stupendous preparations made on the former occasion by Mahomet. They recalled to mind the tempting inducements and promising assurances then held out by the traitorous adventurers in his confidence, all of which only resulted in the most miserable failure. The tide of invasion had rolled ignominiously back from those island bulwarks which the knights of St. John rendered an impassable barrier. These sage advisers pointed out that the garrison of Rhodes was very differently composed from those of the numerous fortresses which had succumbed to the Ottoman arms; that the town itself was at this time fortified far more completely and elaborately than it had been in 1480; that the recollection of their former success would nerve the knights and inhabitants to resist to the death any aggression on their island; and, lastly, that the powerful force necessary for such an undertaking could be far more usefully and brilliantly employed in other directions. To these arguments the supporters of the enterprise retorted that the failure of Mahomet’s attack was mainly due to the fact that he was not himself present; they urged that that very failure rendered it highly advisable to wipe away the reproach cast on the military fame of the empire, and they further added that they had received trustworthy notification that the bastion of Auvergne had been thrown down with a view to its reconstruction on a better line. It seemed, therefore, that the present opportunity of attacking the place should be seized, whilst a breach was open through which they might enter with facility. ​This piece of information had been forwarded to Constaninople by a spy who had been maintained in Rhodes for some years in the pay of the Ottoman government. He was a Jewish physician who had been despatched thither by the emperor Selim for the express purpose of obtaining intelligence as to the state of the city. His profession had secured him a ready entrance and a warm welcome at Rhodes, where the impending prospect of a siege seemed to render him a valuable acquisition, and he maintained his clandestine correspondence with the Porte for a considerable time unsuspected. It was only at the very crisis of the siege that his treachery was discovered, and he himself rendered incapable of inflicting any further mischief.

Chief amongst those who urged Solyman to undertake an attack on Rhodes were his brother-in-law, Mustapha pasha, and the pirate Curtoglu, both of whom trusted to derive wealth and distinction by the enterprise. Their counsels, which accorded so well with the promptings of his own ambition, decided the emperor to carry out the project. As a preliminary measure, and to test the determination of his antagonists, he wrote to the new Grand-Master a letter couched in the following terms:—“Solyman the sultan, by the grace of God, king of kings, sovereign of sovereigns, most high emperor of Byzantium and Trebizond, very powerful king of Persia, of Arabia, of Syria, and of Egypt, supreme lord of Europe and of Asia, prince of Mecca and Aieppo, lord of Jerusalem and ruler of the universal sea, to Philip Villiers de L’Isle Adam, Grand-Master of the island of Rhodes, greeting, I congratulate you upon your new dignity and upon your arrival within your territories. I trust that you will rule there prosperously and with even more glory than your predecessors. I also mean to cultivate your favour. Rejoice then with me as a very dear friend that, following in the footsteps of my father, who conquered Persia, Jerusalem, Arabia, and Egypt, I have captured that most powerful of fortresses, Belgrade, during the late autumn, after which, hiving offered battle to the Giaours, which they had not the courage to accept, I took many other beautiful and well-fortified cities, and destroyed most of their inhabitants either by sword or fire, the remainder being reduced to slavery. Now, after sending my numerous and victorious army into their winter ​quarters, I myself have returned in triumph to my court at Constantinople.” L’Isle Adam was not slow in perceiving the covert menace of this letter. He therefore returned a reply breathing a still more open spirit of hostility. It ran as follows:—Brother Philip Villiers de L’Isle Adam, Grand- Master of Rhodes, to Solyman, sultan of the Turks, I have right well comprehended the meaning of your letter, which has been presented to me by your ambassador. Your propositions for a peace between us are as pleasing to me as they will be obnoxious to Curtoglu. This pirate, during my voyage from France, tried to capture me unawares, in which, when he failed, owing to my having passed into the Rhodian Sea by night, he eudeavoured to plunder certain merchantmen. that were being navigated by the Venetians; but scarcely had my fleet left their port than he had to fly and to abandon the plunder which he had seized from the Cretan merchants. Farewell.”

To this bold epistle the sultan again replied, and endeavoured to inveigle the Grand-Master into sending a dignitary of the Order as an ambassador to Constantinople. He was in hopes that he might thus be enabled to extort valuable information with respect to the island and fortifications. L’Isle Adam was too well acquainted with Turkish treachery to intrust any member of his fraternity to the power of the wily Solyman, and the event shortly proved the wisdom of his precaution. A native of Rhodes, who had been despatched by his fellow-townsmen to open a negotiation with the Turks on the Lycian shore, was treacherously made captive and carried away to Constantinople. There, with the most complete disregard of the laws of civilized nations, he was, by order of Solyman, cruelly tortured, and a confession extorted from him of all that he knew concerning the fortifications of Rhodes.

It was now clear that no negotiation could any longer stave off the impending blow, and L’Isle Adam prepared himself with prompt energy to resist it manfully. Envoys were sent to all the courts of Europe to implore assistance in a struggle the result of which might prove a matter of so great moment to Christendom. Unfortunately, the emperor Charles V. and the French king Francis were too deeply engaged in their own broils to give any heed to the cry for assistance which arose ​from the shores of Rhodes. The commanderies had all furnished such contingents as it was in their power to contribute, and it became clear to L’Isle Adam that he would have to trust for success far more to the spirit of his troops than to their numbers. Only one of the numerous embassies which he had despatched was prosperous in its issue, and this was the mission to Candia, which he had intrusted to Anthony Bosio, a serving- brother of considerable talent and sagacity, and related to the celebrated historian of the Order. This able negotiator succeeded in bringing back with him not only an ample supply of stores, but also 500 Cretan archers, in those days highly esteemed for their skill with the cross-bow. He had likewise attracted into the service of the knights the Venetian engineer, Gabriel Martinigo, whose reputation as a master of that science stood so high that his presence in Rhodes was hailed with enthusiasm.

Martinigo was so much impressed with the devotion and zeal which he noticed on every side, that he formed a desire to join the ranks of the fraternity, and made an application to that effect to the Grand-Master. As Martinigo was a man of good family and unmarried, no obstacle was placed in the way of accomplishing his wishes, and the knights greeted with joy this important acquisition to their ranks. He was at once named a grand-cross, and a large pension assigned to him, the whole charge of the fortifications being vested in his hands. Various additions were at his suggestion made to the defences; the gates were covered with ravelins, casemates were constructed in the flanks of the bastions, and the counterscarps were mined at such points as seemed most likely to be made use of by assaulting columns. Within the town barricades were erected in the principal streets, in the hope of protracting the contest even after the ramparts had been penetrated.

L’Isle Adam now caused a careful inspection to be made of his little garrison. The members of each langue were drawn up in front of their respective auberges, fully armed and accoutred, each being inspected by a knight of a different langue. Every individual was called on in turn to swear with his hand on the cross hilt of his sword that the equipments in which he was then paraded were his own property, and had not ​been borrowed for the occasion. In this manner L’Isle Adam satisfied himself of the complete preparation of his little force.

The number of English knights present at the siege has not been recorded. Mention has only been made of the names of twenty, but this must have fallen far short of the number actually present. Conspicuous among these stands John Bouch, or Buck, the Turcopolier, who was selected as one of four leaders of supporting bodies destined to act as reserves, to be in readiness to carry succour wherever their services might seem to be most urgently needed. The commander of the English bastion, or tower of St. Mary, was Nicholas Hussey, whilst the leader of the troops apportioned for the defence of the English quarter was William Onascon.[2]

In like manner L’Isle Adam himself undertook the defence ​of the quarter of St. Mary of Victory, the point where the last and most desperate struggle had taken place in the previous siege.

A commission was appointed, consisting of the chancellor D’Amaral, the Turcopolier John Buck, and Gabriel de Pomeroys, whose duty it was to examine into the stores of provisions and ammunition contained within the arsenals of the city. They reported that the supply of both was ample, and that no further provision of either was necessary. As a matter of fact the ammunition of the besieged soon fell short, and this deficiency was one of the main causes which led to the loss of Rhodes. This report, by which the Grand-Master was misled as to the state of his magazines, was brought forward against the unfortunate D’Amaral as an additional proof of the treason of which, as we shall presently see, he was convicted. The absurdity of the accusation is apparent; the treason, if such it were, must have been shared in by his brother commissioners, against whose fair fame no suspicion has ever attached. Nothing, in fact, is more likely than that the commissioners should have underestimated the expenditure of powder. The siege was much more protracted than the former one, whilst the amount of powder consumed in the niining operations of Martinigo, eminently successful as they were, went far towards exhausting the supply, and could hardly have been foreseen or provided for by D’Amaral or his associates.

D’Amaral, unfortunately for himself, was of so haughty and turbulent a disposition, that he was perpetually adding to the number of his antagonists, and giving them some fresh pretext upon which to found additional accusations against him. Thus, at this critical moment he headed a cabal which broke out amongst the knights of the Italian langue, who, under the excuse that the Pope was assuming the patronage of their commanderies, requested permission to depart for Rome so as to plead their cause in person before his Holiness. This request was very naturally refused by L’Isle Adam, who, at the moment he was expecting to see the whole power of the Ottoman empire arrayed against him, could ill spare the services of a single knight. D’Amaral, still undoubtedly smarting under a sense of jealousy at the preference shown for L’Isle Adam, prompted them to take for themselves the leave ​which had been refused by the Grand-Master. They followed his suggestions, and, departing by night, secretly proceeded to Caudia.

L’Isle Adam was dismayed at this serious defection from his force, already too feeble for its duties. His was not, however, the character to swerve from the path of duty through any motive of expediency. In the present dilemma his course was prompt and decisive, and, as is usually the case, when men guide themselves by the strict rules of justice, it was in the end eminently successful. He at once summoned a general council, before which he arraigned the recusant knights, and in their absence judgment was passed by default. They were sentenced to be deprived of their habit, and expelled the fraternity as unworthy members who had treacherously and pusillanimously abandoned their brethren during a crisis of extreme danger. This sentence soon brought the fugitives to a sense of their duty. They had abandoned the island, not from cowardice or from disinclination to share the common peril, but simply from a feeling of insubordination, aroused in a moment of pique and irritation against the Grand-Master. The view which had been taken of their conduct by the council touched their honour deeply. Instantly hurrying back to Rhodes they threw themselves at the feet of L’Isle Adam, imploring a remission of the sentence, and that they might be permitted to wash away in the blood of the infidel all recollection of their misconduct. To this petition L’Isle Adam at once assented. He was naturally overjoyed at the prospect of recalling so many gallant spirits to his standard, and during the lengthened struggle which ensued the conduct of the Italian knights was such that he had no cause to regret the leniency he had shown.

The total strength of the garrison, the, inspection of which L’Isle Adam had caused to be made, amounted only to 600 knights and 4,500 men-at-arms. In addition to this force of regular troops, many of the inhabitants had enrolled themselves as a volunteer body, and were formed into battalions. The sailors of the galleys were also landed, and composed a naval brigade. The peasants who flocked into the town from the surrounding country were made useful as pioneers, performing most of the manual labour which the small number of the ​troops rendered them unable to execute for themselves. A description of the fortress has been given in Chapter XII., showing what portion of the general line was attached to each langue. It remains only to say that the reserve was divided into four bodies, commanded respectively by the chancellor D’Amaral, who was to support the quarters of Auvergne and Germany; the Turcopolier, John Buck, for Spain and England; the grand-prior of France, Peter de Cluys, for France and Castile; and the grand-prior of Navarre, George de Morgut, for Provence and Italy. The Grand-Master himself, with his lieutenant, Gabriel de Pomeroys, at the head of his body-guard, was reserved for general purposes. The tower of St. Nicholas was placed under the command of Guyot de Castellan, a knight of Provence, and was garrisoned by twenty knights and 300 men-at-arms.

L’Isle Adam did not content himself with merely making these military dispositions. He also directed prayers and intercessions to be offered in all the churches, invoking the intervention of the Almighty to rescue them from their enemies. The town was divided into two creeds, the Latin and the Greek. At the head of each was an archbishop, the Latin dignitary being Leonard Balestin, and the Greek, Clement. Fortunately these ecelesiastics zealously co-operated with each other for the public weal, and maintained the most complete harmony between their respective flocks. They both issued most earnest exhortations to secure faithful and unswerving obedience to their common chief. The address of the Greek archbishop has been recorded by Fontanus, and is an excellent specimen of the declamation of the period. L’Isle Adam was certainly fortunate in possessing, at this crisis, two such able and energetic coadjutors, men whose position gave them ample power to sway the opinions and feelings of their countrymen.

The emperor Solyman was, during this time, busily engaged in collecting his forces in readiness for an attack on the island, and when all was prepared he, as a last measure, prior to commencing operations, despatched the following summons to surrender:—“The sultan Solyman, to Villiers do L’Isle Adam, Grand-Master of Rhodes, to his knights and to ​the people at large. Your monstrous injuries against my most afflicted people have aroused my pity and indignation. I command you, therefore, instantly to surrender the island and fortress of Rhodes, and I give you my gracious permission to depart in safety with the most precious of your effects, or if you desire to remain under my government I shall not require of you any tribute, or do aught in diminution of your liberties or against your religion. If you are wise you will prefer friendship and peace to a cruel war. Since, if you are conquered, you will have to undergo all such miseries as are usually inflicted by those that are victorious, from which you will not be protected, either by your own forces, or by external aid, or by the strength of your fortifications, which I will overthrow to their foundations. If, therefore, you prefer my friendship to war there shall be neither fraud nor stratagem used against you. I swear this by the God of heaven, the Creator of the earth, by the four Evangelists, by the 4,000 prophets who have descended from heaven, chief amongst whom stands Mahomet, most worthy to be worshipped, by the shades of my grandfather and father, and by my own sacred, august, and imperial head.”

This letter was read by L’Isle Adam in full council. It was at once decreed that no other reply should be accorded than such as could be borne by the guns of the town. Any further parley would, indeed, have been fruitless, for by the time that this letter was being read at Rhodes, viz., on the 14th June, 1522, every preparation for the immediate commencement of the siege had been completed by Solyman. Mustapha pasha had been selected as the leader of his land forces, and Curtoglu, as admiral of the fleet, had the management of everything connected with their transport. The question of the strength of the Ottoman army is somewhat difficult to determine. Vertot, and most of the other European historians, place it at 140,000 men-at-arms, supplemented by 60,000 peasants from Wallachia and Bosnia, who were destined to execute the pioneering operations of the besieging force. These figures sound incredibly large when .placed in comparison with a garrison which could only count from six to seven thousand men of all ranks and ​descriptions. When we look to the Turkish historians the matter does not become much clearer. Ahmed Hafiz speaks of 40,000 rowers for the galleys, with 25,000 infantry on board; but these figures only refer to the force which originally started from Constantinople, and take no account of those which the sultan afterwards brought up with him when he proceeded in person to Rhodes. It may therefore well be that even if a liberal discount be taken off the numbers given by the Christian historians, enough will remain to show that the disproportion between the forces of the besiegers and besieged was far greater than usual.

The naval armament by which the troops were transported, together with the matériel and stores, numbered, according to Hafiz, 700 sail, of which 500 were galleys. Curiously enough, these figures are far larger than those given by the Christian writers, who specify only 400 sail, of which 100 were galleys. An advanced detachment, consisting of thirty vessels, piloted the way to the scene of action, and pouring upon the smaller islands, the defenders of which had been withdrawn, carried sword and ravage in every direction. In the island of Lango, however, the fortress of which was still maintained, they met with a decided repulse. The commandant, a French knight named Prejan de Bidoux, at the head of his force, dashed at the disembarking marauders and drove them back in confusion to their ships. Awed by this act of determination they sheered off, and bore away in the direction of Rhodes.

Early on the morning of the 26th of June a signal from St. Stephen’s hill conveyed intelligence into the city that the Turkish fleet was in sight. It was within the octave of the feast of St. John, during which period it had always been the custom at Rhodes for a procession to pass through the principal streets of the town. L’Isle Adam, anxious as far as possible to calm and reassure the terror-stricken population, directed that this procession should pursue its usual course, although the hostile fleet was at that moment studding the horizon. The procession over, high mass was celebrated in St. John’s church. At its conclusion the Grand-Master approached the altar, and mounting its steps he elevated ​the Host in the presence of the assembled multitude, and poured forth a prayer on behalf of the people committed to his charge, that the Almighty would deign to give them fortitude to defend His holy religion, and that the fire and sword, the slaughter and rapine, the destruction and slavery with which they were menaced, might through His infinite mercy be averted. L’Isle Adam was recognized as one of the first soldiers and most trusted leaders of the day. He was at the same time equally eminent for the fervour of his piety and the earnestness of his religious zeal. When, therefore, on this eventful morning he thus consecrated his cause to Heaven, and appealed to the Most High in terms of eloquent and touching supplication against the foe by whom his city and Order were menaced, all felt that under the leadership of such a man they were in good hands, and that if it were decreed that they should prosper, none could better carry the fiat into effect.

The religious ceremony concluded, the doors of the church were closed and the garrison directed to repair to their respective posts. The gates were shut, the bridges raised, banners were hoisted on the various bastions, and all stood awaiting the first scene of the bloody drama. The Grand-Master, clad in magnificent gilt armour, rode at the head of his guards with three knights beside him, one bearing the grand standard of the Order, the second a banner presented to D’Aubusson by the Pope, and the third a flag emblazoned with his own coat of arms. This latter was borne by a young English knight named Henry Mansell, who was killed early in the siege. Not a man, woman, or child on that eventful morning remained within doors. Every point from whence the motions of the hostile fleet could be observed was thronged with anxious gazers. Many there were within that crowd, men whose hair time had sprinkled with silver, who, looking back through a long vista of years, could call to mind a scene very similar to that on which their eyes were now bent, when forty-two years since their seas had been covered with the fleet of that proud empire between which and themselves an undying animosity was ever burning. Then the God of battles had declared for their side, and they had triumphed gloriously. He had aided them to ​hurl back the ruthless invader from their shores, and the bones of thousands who had once mustered in that proud array lay whitened beneath their soil. The husbandman still, in the preparation of his land, every now and again turned up some relic to remind him of that strife of which he was so justly proud, and amidst those verdant plains with which the city was surrounded, many a patch of green more brilliant than the rest was pointed out as the spot where lay one of those numerous masses of slain, buried in haste and confusion after the retreat of their fellows.

With all these memorials of their former victory before their eyes, with the knowledge that the Rhodes of to-day was far more powerful and capable of resistance than that which had maintained itself so successfully forty years before, with the strains of martial music filling the air and exhilarating their hearts, with the summer sun flashing its rays upon many a knightly crest and broidered pennon, it was natural that they should enjoy a sense of confidence amounting to exultation, and that they should look with a feeling well-nigh of certainty for the moment when the foe, once more recoiling in dismay from their ramparts, should seek an ignominious safety in flight.

Some there were, however, whose hearts, in spite of all these brilliant auguries of success, were filled with dread. They well knew that the might of Mahomet was, even at its zenith, far inferior to that of the emperor who now occupied his throne. Solyman’s career had, to the present moment, been one unbroken succession of triumphs; the power had not as yet appeared which could withstand the vigour of his attack; the army which was now pouring its endless battalions upon the shores of their fair isle far exceeded that which they had before successfully resisted, not in mere numbers only, but in every detail of its equipment, and was led by generals trained to victory beneath the redoubted banner of their sultan. Under these conditions it might well prove that the constancy and bravery even of the knights of St. John would be unavailing, and that they might yet live to see the day when the Moslem standard should wave over those ramparts whereon they were now standing, and which had been for upwards of 200 years maintained in proud and honourable security.

​The chief difficulty against which L’Isle Adam had to contend was the paucity of his garrison. Numerous tempting opporturnties presented themselves for opposing the besiegers whilst they were disembarking. Any such efforts, however, must have involved a certain amount of loss, and as, considering the enormous disproportion between the Turkish forces and his own, no comparatively minor advantage could compensate for any diminution of his strength, the Grand-Master was obliged to curb the ardour of his followers, and to permit advances to be made which had his numbers been greater he would have been able to check.

It is recorded by Fontanus, in his history of this siege, that a Florentine named Girolamo Bartolini brought forward a project whereby the whole Turkish navy was to be destroyed at a blow, presumably by means of some explosive substance. L’Isle Adam declined the proferred aid, and this refusal has, by many of the contemporary writers, been attributed to the malign influence of D’Amaral. We may, however, safely assume that the clear judgment of the Grand-Master had discovered the chimerical nature of the proposal, and that he did not allow himself to be weakly guided by others when declining its adoption.

The disembarkation of the besieging army, which extended over several days, proceeded without interruption from the defenders, who were busily engaged throughout this period in making their last preparations to meet the coming storm. All preliminary measures having been taken, the Turks broke ground under cover of a cannonade, and commenced the construction of trenches with the aid of the Wallachian peasants, whom they had brought for the purpose. The knights, on their side, harassed the advances of the working parties by constant sorties. These checks greatly impeded the operations of the besiegers, whilst vast numbers of the defenceless pioneers fell beneath the swords of their assailants.

From the very commencement of the expedition disaffection had shown itself in the Turkish army. Upon the first appearance of the fleet a deserter had succeeded in making his escape from one of the ships, and reached St. Nicholas’s tower, swimming a distance stated to be between six and seven miles, ​under cover of the night. This fugitive, after having given correct information as to the magnitude of the force, stated that there was great reluctance on the part of the janissaries to engage in the operation. The failure of the former siege was well known to them, and the almost superhuman valour displayed on that occasion by the knights of St. John had lost none of its terrors by constant repetition. They were well aware that since that day much had been done to strengthen the fortress, and they looked upon Rhodes, defended as it was by such a frowning mass of batteries, and held by the lion hearts before whom their forefathers had so often recoiled, as almost impregnable.

The ill success of their first attempts in pushing forward the siege works, and the fearful slaughter of the pioneers by the harassing sorties of the knights, completed their disaffection. Murmurs and remonstrances soon became loud throughout the camp, and it was with difficulty that the troops could be induced to advance to what they considered certain destruction. Pir Mehmed pasha (called in most of the European histories Pyrrhus pasha), a general and counsellor in whom Solyman placed the greatest confidence, deemed it necessary to report this disaffection to his master, informing him that nothing short of his own immediate presence on the spot could control the turbulence of the mutineers. Solyman had from the first intended to take part in the siege in person, but this message hastened his movements, and he soon appeared on the scene at the head of a large body of troops.[3]

By a judicious mixture of clemency and severity, he rapidly restored the spirit of his army, and the late mutineers, ashamed in the presence of their sultan of the murmurings and insubordination in which they had so lately indulged, now became ​fired with an anxious desire to distinguish themselves and merit his approbation.

Meanwhile a plot of the most dangerous character had been discovered within the city, the details of which had been arranged, and were to have been carried into execution, by a woman. She was a Turkish slave, who, eager for the success of her countrymen, and at the same time anxious to regain her own freedom, devised a scheme for setting fire to the town at several points, and giving admission to the besiegers during the confusion that would ensue. This design she communicated to several of her fellow-slaves, and had even been able to establish communications with the Turkish leaders. The hour for the attempt was fixed, and all the necessary arrangements made to insure success, when by some inadvertency on the part of one of the confederates, the plot became revealed to the authorities. The conspirators were at once seLzed and subjected to torture, under the pressure of which a confession was extorted from all concerned, excepting only the daring female who had devised the scheme, and who stoutly maintained her innocence. Her constancy remained unshaken to the last, and she suffered the extreme penalty of the law without having uttered one word to inculpate either herself or others. Of her guilt, however, if such an attempt can be called guilt on the part of one who was suffering all the cruelties and privations of slavery, there can be no doubt. Her severed limbs were exposed on the ramparts, where they served as a warning to deter others similarly situated from any further projects of the kind.

Suspicions of treason throughout this siege appear to have been very prevalent, and the rumours to that effect which were constantly circulating engendered a universal feeling of distrust highly prejudicial to the maintenance of good discipline. Many of these suspicions wore entirely groundless; but there lurked within the ramparts an amount of treachery amply sufficient to account for their existence. The Jewish doctor was still residing within the town,[4] and he succeeded in ​maintaining intercourse with the besiegers whereby much valuable information was made known to them. It was by his suggestion that the Turkish artillery was turned against the campanile beside St. John’s church, from which elevated spot the besieged had been able to overlook the whole Turkish camp and to trace their operations in the trenches. A few days’ practice at so elevated a target sufficed to achieve its overthrow, and the knights were thus deprived of a post of observation which they had found extremely useful.

The numerous sorties in which the garrison had indulged during the construction of the trenches materially impeded, it is true, the operations of the Turks, and caused the slaughter of vast numbers of their Wallachian pioneers, but these successes had not been gained without loss. The same feeling which prompted L’Isle Adam to refrain from any attempt to check the disembarkation of the Turks made him now again give strict orders that ll further sorties were to be abandoned. The Turks were thus able to complete their works without any other hindrance than that which was caused by the ceaseless play of artillery brought to bear on every part of the trenches, and, as Ahmed Hafiz admits, with wonderful precision and accuracy. The cessation of these sallies prevented the capture of any more prisoners, and L’Isle Adam was no longer made acquainted with the movements taking place within the enemy’s camp. In this dilemma a party of sailors undertook to obtain the required information. They dressed themselves as Turks and left the harbour during the night in a boat. They coasted along the shore, and speaking the enemy’s language with facility, proceeded fearlessly into the midst of the Turkish camp. Thence they succeeded in inveigling two genuine Moslems into their boat and carried them off undiscovered into the town. The prisoners were taken to the top of St. John’s tower, which had not as yet been demolished, and there they were questioned by Martinigo, the Venetian engineer, and two other knights. They were given plainly to understand that on ​displaying the least hesitation or prevarication in replying to their questioners, they would at once be hurled headlong from the dizzy height on which they stood. Under the pressure of this menace they disclosed all they knew.

The order in which the besiegers’ forces were posted thus became known to L’Isle Adam. Between the shore of Archandia bay and the bastion of St. John were the troops of the vizier Pir Mehmed pasha; to his left was Cassim pasha, who commanded the division of Anatolia; then that of Mustapha pasha, next to whom was Achmet pasha, whose division reached as far as the Amboise gate, the circuit being closed towards the north by the troops of the Beglier Bey of Roumeia, and the janissaries under their chief, Baly Aga. Solyman had established his head-quarters on St. Stephen’s hill. From the same source Martinigo learnt the strength of the battering train which had accompanied the Turkish army. This train included six brass guns with a calibre of 3½ palms,[5] fifteen others of from to (3 palms, twelve large bombards of from 9 to 10 palms, and two others still larger of 11 palms. In addition to these there were twelve basilisks of 8 palms and fifteen double cannon for throwing iron shot. There were also twelve brass mortars for vertical fire, throwing shot and shell of from 7 to 8 palms. From these mortars the gunners of the Turkish army anticipated great results, and an incessant fire was kept up from them upon the town. Bourbon records that they discharged 1,713 stone shot and eight brass balls filled with artificial fire during the early part of the siege. These latter were probably the first shells of which history has recorded the use, and from the fact that so few were thrown, we may perhaps conclude that they were not found to answer as well as was expected.

The sultan had not long continued the direction of the siege when he discovered that, from the level of the ground in which his trenches were formed, he could gain no command over the works he was attacking. To obviate this difficulty he directed two large cavaliers to be raised, one in front of the bastion of Italy, the other between the posts of Spain and Germany, near the gate of St. George. As the sites selected for these works ​were completely commanded by the guns of the town, and as, from the rapid manner in which the operation was pushed forward, it became evident that something of more than ordinary importance was contemplated, every battery which could be brought to bear on them was called into requisition, and the losses consequently sustained by the unfortunate pioneers were prodigious. Heaps of slain marked the rise of the structures, but as Solyman held the lives of these wretched peasants in no esteem, the labour was pushed forward with undiminished energy. In spite of every effort on the part of the defence, the mounds continued to rise higher and higher until at length they dominated over the ramparts in their front, and exposed the defenders to a galling fire from their summit. It is rather curious to see how differently the same events are described by the two sides. This is what the Turkish historian, Ahmed Hafiz, says on the subject:—“Mehmed pasha, without loss of time, directed Mustapha pasha to have a number of sand-bags filled, and to have them piled up as close as possible to the fortress in order to raise redoubts, which should reach the height of the crest of those works, for in this manner only did he hope to be able to carry them. The infidels, doubtless understanding the design, concentrated all their fire on the workmen, but their shot had no effect in the soft earth, killing, it is true, some persons, but not damaging the mounds, which soon reached the level of the parapets, so that the defenders could no longer man them with impunity.” It is easy to see from this description that the slaughter of the Wallachian peasants made no impression on the mind of the historian—some persons, it is true, were killed, but the raising of the mounds was the main object, and that was not impeded.

Meanwhile a heavy fire was brought to bear against the tower of St. Nicholas and the post of Auvergne, but without success. The artillery directed against the besieging batteries by the skill of Martinigo, utterly annihilated their efficiency. A more general distribution of the besiegers’ guns was then decided on, and for a whole month the air resounded with the roar of the cannonade, which in all directions was being concentrated upon the devoted town. The bastions of St. Mary and Italy soon began to show signs of the vigour with which they were ​being attacked. At the former a new rampart had been constructed, covering the old one, and this it was which gave way. The older escarp in its rear proved the better defence, and resisted the pounding of the hostile guns long after the other had been breached into ruins.

Wherever the works showed signs of yielding to the cannonade, the unflagging energy of the defenders was called into play to repair the damages almost as rapidly as they were caused. In all directions new ditches were sunk, and behind them retrenchments were raised within the vulnerable points. Solyman at length perceived that with antagonists such as these, a simple war of artillery might last for ever. He determined, therefore, on pushing forward his attack upon different principles, and in accordance with the advice of his most trusted generals, he had recourse to mining. Shafts were sunk in various directions, and galleries driven forward beneath the principal bastions. Martinigo had foreseen the probability of this mode of approach, and the numerous countermines which he had prepared before the commencement of the siege materially assisted him in opposing it. By the simple aid of the distended parchment of a drum he was able to detect the vicinity of the enemy’s miners through the vibration of the earth, and took his defensive measures accordingly.

Unfortunately, two galleries which had been driven beneath the bastion of St. Mary, eluded his vigilance, and the first warning the defenders of that post received was an explosion which threw down the entire salient of the work. A battalion of Turks, which had been drawn up within their trenches, as soon as they heard the crash which betokened the downfall of the rampart, dashed forward with a wild shout of triumph, and mounting the still smoking breach, gained the summit before the defenders had recovered sufficient presence of mind to withstand the onslaught. Here they planted their victorious standard, and flushed with success, pushed forward with redoubled ardour to secure the remainder of the work. They were, however, brought to a check by the retrenchment, behind which the knights, now recovered from their momentary confusion, opposed a steady and obstinate resistance. At this critical juncture the Grand-Master made his appearance on the ​scene, followed by his body-guard. He had been engaged in the celebration of mass in the chapel of St. Mary of Victory. The alarm caused by the explosion arose at the moment when the officiating priest had intoned the prayer, “Deus in adjutorium meum intende.” “I accept the augury,” said the Grand-Master, and turning to his followers, he exclaimed, “Come, my brethren, let us exchange the sacrifice of our prayers and praises for that of our lives, and let us die, if God so wills it, in defence of our religion.” Roused by this noble exhortation, they rushed to the scene of strife, hurled themselves into the midst of the contending battalions, and in a little while carried all before them. Foremost in the fray was L’Isle Adam, his gigantic frame conspicuous amidst his compeers, as, armed with a short pike, he dashed at the foe, and by word and deed encouraged his followers to drive hack the invading Moslem. A few moments of desperate strife sufficed to attest the superiority, both moral and physical, of the knights of St. John. Cowering under the withering storm, the Turks, no longer able to advance, nor even to maintain themselves upon the ground already gained, gradually gave way, and were driven back in confusion through the breach which they had so shortly before entered in triumph. Mustapha pasha, whose division had furnished the assaulting columns, was watching the fortunes of the day from the advanced trenches, and had been congratulating himself with the idea that Rhodes was won. He was not permitted to indulge long in this pleasant dream, and his fury as he beheld his receding battalions fleeing tumultuously from the scene of strife knew no bounds. Hastily drawing his scimitar he rushed upon the foremost of the fugitives, and in the vehemence of his rage cut down several with his own. hand, and thus checked the flight. Rallying the remainder he led them hi person once more to the attack, and the struggle was again renewed. The advantage, however, had now been lost, so that it was not possible even for the valour of Mustapha to restore the fortunes of the day. Bravely he strove to penetrate within the ruined rampart, but in vain. The breach was now crowned by those who were well able to maintain it, and the baffled and discomfited columns of the Moslem were eventually ​forced to relinquish the strife, and to retire in despair to the shelter of their trenches.

It would be a tedious task to describe the constant succession of assaults by which Solyman endeavoured to regain the advantage which had been lost on the first attempt. In each case, the means employed, both in the attack and defence, were always the same. The sudden alarm caused either by the explosion of a mine or the rush of a storming column, the hasty call to arms, the ringing of the bells, whereby the impending danger was notified to the garrison generally, the onset of the Moslem, the firm stand of the knights, the fiercely-shouted war-cry ringing out on either side, the roar of artillery, the incessant rattle of small arms, the flashing of Greek fire, and the fatal hissing of the seething pitch poured on the foe as they clambered over the breach; such were always the leading features of the picture; what need therefore to repeat the tale? The results are the only real points of importance, and these were invariably the same. Though the assaulting columns numbered thousands and tens of thousands selected from the flower of the Ottoman. army, whilst the defenders consisted of but a handful of Christians, harassed, exhausted, and weakened by their previous efforts, still upon each occasion the swarms of the infidel were forced to recoil from the impassable barrier.

It is thus that Ahmed Hafiz describes some of these assaults: “The Mussulmans descended into the ditch, carrying their fascines with them, whilst the best marksmen fired on all who dared to show their heads above the crest of the parapet. Clinging to the walls like polypi, the assailants mounted steadily under the storm of fire and steel, which rained on them from the ramparts; the noise of musketry, the discharge of cannon, the cries of the combatants filled the air with a confused tumult. Not content with receiving the victorious[6] with fire and steel, the besieged also poured on them caldrons of boiling pitch and tar. The brave soldiers of Islam fell by hundreds, and the angels opened the gates of Paradise to their souls, for from the summit of the fortress were hurled masses of rock and of metal upon the ladders crowded with men. By ​midday the number of the dead had become so great that it was necessary to suspend the attack, the corpses of the Mussulmans were so numerous that they were huddled into trenches without counting them, but God certainly kept a pitying record of the number of the faithful whom He that day received into Paradise.” And again, on another occasion—”In obedience to the orders given, the victorious of Islam rushed to the assault full of ardour; the fight was bloody; the dead of the Mussulman army fell like rams destined to the sacrifice, under the terrible fire of the enemy’s guns; the number of the victims was untold; still the fortress resisted the heroic efforts which were made against the infidels, so that exhausted at length the victorious of Islam were compelled to retire.” Once more—” The division of Mustapha pasha having completed a mine, fired it; the damage done was considerable; all the infidels who defended this post were hurled up into the third heaven, and their souls were plunged into hell; a large piece of wall having fallen, the road was open for the victorious, they threw themselves into the ditches, strove bravely to mount the breach, and fought like heroes; vain effort; they were compelled to retire, leaving the ditch choked with the dead, and inundated with their generous blood.”

It was thus that on the 13th, the 17th, and the 24th of September the most furious attempts were made to carry the town. Upon the 13th the attack was on the Italian quarter; on the 17th the English bastion of St. Mary withstood the violence of the assault, the Turcopolier, John Buck, falling gloriously at the head of his langue. Upon the 24th, in accordance with the proposals of Pir Mehmed, the attack was made simultaneously on all sides. Even this gigantic effort of superior numbers failed utterly in its purpose. Although several temporary advantages enabled the besiegers to gain a footing upon the rampant and to plant their standard on its summit, still the success was in every instance but momentary, and the impetuous onset of the defenders ended by restoring the fortunes of the day. In order to encourage his troops by his own immediate presence, the sultan had caused a scaffold to be erected, from the height of which he might witness the assault, he had fired his soldiery with the prospect of booty, having given ​up to them the whole plunder of the city. This offer, combined with the knowledge that they were fighting under the immediate eye of their sovereign, had roused them to a pitch of enthusiasm such as he fondly hoped must prove the precursor of victory. If the assailants were stimulated with the hope of gain and the prospect of distinction, the defenders, on the other hand, were equally nerved to the combat by their religious devotion and by the energy which despair had brought to their aid. Solyman had, in consequence, the mortification of witnessing from his lofty post of observation the utter discomfiture of his forces. Sounding a retreat, he descended to his tent, and in the bitterness of his mortification resolved to wreak his vengeance on those who had originally counselled the expedition. Both Pir Mehmed and Mustapha were condemned to death, and the sentence wold have been carried into effect had not the other leaders interceded and persuaded him to reverse the decree. They were, however, banished from the camp, and compelled to return to Asia, whilst the siege was still in progress. The pirate admiral, Curtoglu, was reserved for a more humiliating fate, having to undergo the degradation of corporal punishment on the poop of his own galley, after which he was ignominiously expelled from the fleet, the reason alleged for this severity being that he had neglected to aid the land forces by making a naval diversion.

Whilst these successes were enabling the garrison to maintain their resistance, the first seeds of those disastrous results which eventually led to the loss of the town began to show themselves. Although before the commencement of the siege it had been reported to L’Isle Adam by the commissioners appointed for that purpose, that the quantity of powder in the magazines was amply sufficient, even if the siege were protracted for a year, little more than a month had elapsed before it became manifest that the supply was too limited for the occasion. In addition to the powder in the magazines, there were large stores of saltpetre within the town, and L’Isle Adam promptly established a manufactory of gunpowder under the superintendence of two knights and a committee of citizens. Even with this aid it soon became necessary to practise the most rigid economy in the ​expenditure of ammunition, and the efforts of the garrison were much impeded by this vital want. Curiously enough, we learn from Ahmed Hafiz that a similar difficulty arose in the besiegers’ camp, and that their operations were for some time suspended whilst a portion of the fleet was engaged in fetching further supplies.

Treason also shortly began to display itself. The incident of the female slave already recorded had created a dread of some similar attempt on the part of her fellow-slaves. Every one was on the alert, and whispers of treachery passed from ear to ear. At length the Jewish doctor, who had been placed in Rhodes as a spy by the sultan Selim, and who had contrived to maintain a correspondence with the Turkish leaders during the siege, was detected in the act of discharging a treasonable communication into the enemy’s camp attached to an arrow. The evidence against him was positive and conclusive; he was, nevertheless, subjected to torture. Under its influence he confessed to having informed the enemy of the scarcity of ammunition, together with many other details tending to induce them to continue the siege. His fate was such as he richly deserved, but the mischief he had caused did not end with him. But for the information he had imparted, in all human probability Rhodes would not have fallen.

As it was, the constant ill success which attended his efforts, and the fearful carnage which had decimated his troops, caused Solyman to pause and ponder well the advisability of abandoning the enterprise. At that moment the fate of the town hung suspended in the balance, and a mere trifle would have inclined it either way. It was, indeed, a glorious sight to see an army which, on the most moderate computation, must have exceeded 100,000 in number, thus baffled and held at bay by a force reduced through its many casualties to little more than 3,000 fighting men. Those fortifications with which they had at such cost surrounded their city were now crumbling beneath the artillery and the mines of the enemy. Gaping breaches laid it open in every direction, and yet, destitute as they had become of even the ordinary necessaries of life, short of powder, food, and wine, they still protracted the defence with undiminished obstinacy, determined to maintain ​themselves whilst yet there remained a knight to oppose the entry of the Moslem.

It is not surprising that in this desperate condition men should lend a ready ear to tales of treason. It was evident to all that spies were in the town; everything that occurred was soon made known to Solyman, and many points in his attack had been altered in conformity with the information he had received. They knew not where to look for the traitor, and each one glanced fearfully at his neighbour, as though feeling that at such a moment no one could be trusted. At. this crisis suspicion was directed against some of the chief dignitaries by a Spanish pilgrim, a female of great reputed sanctity, who was then residing at Rhodes, having lately returned from Jerusalem. This woman traversed the streets with bare feet, denouncing the leaders and asserting that the calamities then befalling the town were due to the vengeance of God called down by the iniquities of some of those who ruled over their fortunes. No names were mentioned, but the general suspicion being thus turned in a particular direction it required but little to create a victim, and this was ere long effected.

Whilst the ferment was at its height a servant of the chancellor D’Amaral, named Blaise Bias, was detected on the bastion of Auvergne with a bow in his hand. As this was not the first time he had been seen under similar circumstances he was arrested and brought before the Grand-Master. By his instructions the man was interrogated before the judges of the castellany, and under the influence of torture averred that he had been employed by his master to discharge treasonable correspondence into the enemy’s camp. D’Amaral was at once arrested and confronted with his accuser, who repeated the charge to his face. No sooner had the name of the chancellor become bruited abroad than numbers rushed forward, eager to add corroborative testimony. His arrogant conduct had created him enemies in every sphere of life, and now, when suspicion had fallen on him, all were ready to lend a helping hand to complete his destruction. A Greek priest deposed that he had seen the chancellor with Diaz on the bastion of Auvergne, and that the latter had discharged an arrow with a letter attached to it. The statement was also recalled that at ​the election of L’Isle Adam, D’Amaral had asserted he would be the last Grand-Master of Rhodes. On this testimony he also was subjected to torture, which he bore with unflinching fortitude, asserting that he had nothing to reveal, and that at the close of a life spent in the service of the Order, he would not disgrace his career by the utterance of a falsehood so as to save his aged limbs from the rack.

His firmness and constancy did not avail to save him from those who were clamorous for his death. Diaz, of whose guilt there could be no doubt, was hanged and quartered on the 6th November. D’Amaral, whose rank forbade so degrading a death, was sentenced to be beheaded, lie was stripped of his habit in the church of St. John on the 7th November, and, on the following day, executed in the great square.

Of the two contemporary writers who have given accounts of this siege, both of whom were eye-witnesses of the events they record, one, the chevalier de Bourbon, asserts the guilt of the chancellor without doubt, and may fairly be taken as the mouthpiece of the general opinion within the town. The other, Fontanus, who was one of the judges appointed to investigate the charge, is very reticent and obscure on the point. A careful study of his work leads to the impression that he found no proofs of guilt in D’Amaral. Never, perhaps, was man condemned on weaker evidence. The deposition of his own servant, who had been detected in a treasonable act, and might naturally try to save himself by fixing the guilt on another, should have been received with grave suspicion. The testimony of the Greek priest was absolutely worthless. Why, if he had previously witnessed the transmission of treasonable communications, did he not denounce the criminals sooner, when treason was known to be fraught with such imminent danger? The explanation which D’Amaral gave of this man’s evidence was probably correct, viz., that it was the effect of spite, owing to his having had to find fault with the looseness of the priests’ life. The improbability of a man in the position of the chancellor risking his life and reputation by employing a servant in such open treachery seems too great for the fact to be readily accepted. Much has, of recent years, been said as to the guilt ​of D’Amaral being confirmed by the fact that the church of St. John was destroyed by an explosion of powder stored in the vaults beneath, unknown to the authorities. This incident seems to add but little, if anything, to the evidence. It is a matter of great doubt whether powder would explode after a storage of upwards of three centuries. It is much more probable that it was placed there by the Turks themselves at some considerably later period. Even if it could be traced as far back as the siege of 1522, there seems nothing to connect it with D’Amaral. He was one of three persons appointed to report on the quantity of powder and other stores within the fortress, but it is nowhere alleged that he had charge of it. At all events, had a large quantity been stored in these vaults at a time when its scarcity was so well known, there must hare been many persons acquainted with the fact who would all have been privy to the treason, if treason there were. It seems, therefore, that the chancellor D’Amaral fell an unfortunate and, as far as history can judge, an innocent victim to popular clamour.

Meanwhile, the sultan was weighing in his own mind the advisability of abandoning the siege, and this design he would in all probability have carried into effect, had he not been informed by an Albanian deserter of the state of destitution to which the town was reduced. This intelligence tempted him to persevere, and Achmet pasha was appointed to the command of the forces. Under his directions several fresh assaults were made, and in every ease successfully resisted. Day by day the breaches became wider, and the ramparts more untenable; the defenders fewer, and their strength more exhausted; hope had given way to despair, and the prospect of relief from Europe had grown less and less; still the opposition remained as stubborn as ever, and Solyman began to dread that he would only enter the ruined city when the last of its garrison had fallen.

It was not the men only who were thus covering themselves with glory; the women also, in this fearful emergency, proved worthy helpmates in the heroic defence. Many incidents are narrated of their courage and devotion, and throughout they seem to hare aided materially, both by precept and ​example, in maintaining the constancy of the besieged. One woman, a Greek by birth, and either the wife or mistress of an officer, earned an imperishable renown by her sad, though brilliant, fate in one of these latter assaults. She had been engaged in bringing food to the defenders, when, in one of the sudden Turkish onslaughts, she saw her husband struck dead. Overwhelmed with despair, she rushed into the thickest of the struggle and there fell, covered with wounds, not, however, before she had amply avenged the fate of him who had been so dear to her.

With women capable of acts such as these the glorious defence which Rhodes made ceases to be a matter of surprise. The resistance still offered was as indomitable as ever. Although the Turks had established themselves permanently on two distinct points in the ramparts, they were not yet masters of the place, for as each successive bulwark was lost a fresh one sprang up in its rear. Well might Solyman despair of ever calling the city his own; for six months he had hurled all the gigantic resources in his possession against its bulwarks; 60,000 men, it is computed, had fallen by sword and pestilence, and yet he still found himself advancing step by step only in the face of ever-renewed obstacles.

Then, too, he could not expect that succour for the besieged would be much longer delayed. Owing to the disturbed state of Europe he had been permitted to carry on his operations for six months unmolested. Now, however, that the gallant resistance of the knights was arousing the admiration of Christendom; when men were gazing breathlessly upon this noble spectacle of heroism and devotion, he could not hope to be left much longer undisturbed. Under these circumstances he acquiesced eagerly in the proposal of Achmet pasha, that the town should be invited to capitulate. Unwilling that such a suggestion should appear to emanate from himself, he directed a Genoese named Monilio, who was in his camp, to undertake the mission. Matters were prepared for him by the transmission of sundry letters which were shot into the town, and in which the people were urged to surrender; life and liberty for all being promised in case of speedy compliance, and dire vengeance being threatened in the event of protracted resistance.

​When these letters had had sufficient time to create the intended effect, Monilio presented himself one morning before the bastion of Auvergne, desiring an interview with Matteo de Via, one of the leading citizens of Rhodes. This request being refused, he began to urge those whom he was addressing to seek terms of capitulation. His proposals were repulsed, and he was informed that the knights of St. John only treated with the infidel sword in hand. Two days after he again made his appearance, bearing, as he said, a letter from the sultan to L’Isle Adam. This letter the Grand-Master refused to receive, and Monilio was informed that if he attempted any further parleying he would be fired on. L’IsIe Adam had long since decided that if he failed to receive help from Europe he would make the ruins of Rhodes the common grave of himself and his brethren.

Had the town contained none others than members of the Order, this resolution would indubitably have been carried into effect. It no sooner, however, became noised abroad that the subject of capitulation had been mooted from the Ottoman camp than a cabal arose in the town to urge its acceptance. There were not wanting those who preferred life to the glory of further resistance; and, indeed, it is clear that to men unfettered by religious obligations, continued opposition must have appeared perfect madness. The principal citizens therefore commissioned their metropolitan to urge upon the Grand-Master the necessity for treating with the enemy.

L’Isle Adam now found that it did not depend only on himself to carry his heroic resolutions into practice. Without the concurrence of the citizens this would be impossible, and that concurrence the archbishop positively assured him he would not obtain. A council was therefore summoned to deliberate on the matter. Whilst it was sitting a deputation appeared to present a petition signed by the principal inhabitants, in which they implored the Order to provide for the safety of their wives and children, and to rescue from the profanation of the infidel those holy relics which they all held in such high veneration. The petition closed with a threat that if the knights neglected to comply with its request the inhabitants would feel themselves bound by every law, divine and human, to secure by ​their own efforts the safety of those dearer to them than life. On hearing this petition L’Isle Adam called upon the prior of St. Gilles and the engineer Martinigo to report on the state of the town and fortress. Thereupon the latter rose and asserted on his honour and conscience that he did not consider the place any longer tenable; that the slaves and other pioneers had been all either killed or wounded, so that it was no longer feasible to muster sufficient labour to move a piece of artillery from one battery to another; that it was impossible without men to carry on the repairs necessary to the ramparts; that their ammunition and stores were exhausted, and further, seeing that the enemy were already established within the lines at two points, without any power of dislodging them, he was of opinion that the city was lost, and should be surrendered. The prior of St. Gilles corroborated this statement in every particular.

The debate was long and stormy; there were many who, like the Grand-Master, were desirous of emulating the self-devotion of their predecessors, and of burying themselves beneath the ruins of Rhodes. Had the knights not been encumbered by the presence of a large and defenceless population, this line of policy would unquestionably have been adopted. As it was, however, there were present in the council-chamber others, who perceived that by such a decision they were dooming to destruction those who had stood faithfully by them through the long struggle, and were now entitled to consideration at their hands. Moreover, the question was not, they felt, left only to them to decide. Should they attempt to continue the defence, would the people stand tamely by and see themselves thus doomed to slaughter, simply because the council had so decreed? If the town were to be yielded, it was far better that it should be by the unanimous act of the besieged, as they would thereby insure more liberal terms from the sultan than he would grant if he once knew there were divisions in their councils. It was there.. fore decreed that the next offer of parley should be accepted, and that the Grand-Master should be authorized to secure the best conditions procurable.

The chiefs of Solyman’s army were too desirous of putting a stop to the fearful effusion of blood which had now been going on for six months, and of obtaining possession, upon almost any ​terms, of the city, which seemed, as it were, to recede from their grasp as they advanced, to keep the inhabitants long in suspense. Upon the 10th December a white flag was hoisted at the top of a church standing within the Turkish lines, and this was at once answered by another raised on a windmill near the Cosquino gate. Two Turks then advanced from the trenches for the purpose of opening a parley, and they were met at the above-named gate by Martinigo and the prior of St. Giles. They tendered a letter containing the conditions on which the sultan would consent to a capitulation. In consideration of the instant surrender of the town he was prepared to permit the Grand-Master, with his knights and such of the citizens of all ranks as might wish to leave, to do so unmolested, taking with them all their household property. Those who elected to remain were guaranteed the undisturbed exercise of their religion, and were to be free from paying tribute for five years; the churches were to be protected from profanation; and all property secured from pillage. The letter concluded with the most fearful threats if those terms were not accepted immediately.

The council decided on despatehing an embassy to the Turkish camp, and for this purpose selected Anthony Grollée, the standard bearer of the Order, and a Rhodian named Robert Perrucey. These envoys at once proceeded to the tent of Achmet pasha, who, on behalf of the Turks, sent into the city two hostages of high rank as a guarantee for their safe return. On the following day Solyman admitted them to an audience, but commenced by ignoring the contents of his letter, conceiving it to have been beneath his dignity that he should have taken the initiative in proposing terms of capitulation. He, however, added that he was willing to adhere to the conditions therein offered, and required an immediate reply. A truce was agreed on for three days, and one of the envoys sent back into the town to announce the fact, the other being still retained as a hostage.

Meanwhile L’Isle Adam, who was daily looking for succours from Europe, determined on protracting the negotiations as far as possible. With this object he, the next morning, despatched a fresh embassy into the Turkish camp, the real object of which was simply to gain time, but ostensibly to try and ​persuade Solyman to offer the knights better terms. The envoys took with them a letter which had been received by D’Aubusson from Bajazet, the grandfather of Solyman, in which that prince invoked the malediction of Heaven upon any of his successors who should attempt to disturb the Order in its peaceful possession of the island of Rhodes. Achmet pasha, to whom this document was shown, at once destroyed it, feeling sure that if it came under the eye of his master it would only stimulate his rage against the fraternity by recalling to his memory an incident which in no way redounded to the glory of his race.

At this juncture, and whilst the terms of the treaty were being discussed, an unfortunate collision occurred between some portion of the garrison and the Turks, in which several of the latter lost their lives. It is not clear how this arose. The Turkish writer Hafiz states that on that night a relieving force of fifteen galleys filled with troops had arrived in the harbour, and that the attack was made by them. No allusion to such a reinforcement is made by any of the other historians, nor is it easy to see from whence they came. Be this as it may, the outbreak brought the truce to a premature close, the batteries were reopened, and everything replaced on a hostile footing. Some prisoners who fell into the hands of the Turks were mutilated by having their fingers, noses, and ears cut off, and in that miserable plight sent back into the town with the message that such was the treatment the besieged might now expect at the hands of the sultan. L'Isle Adam was overjoyed at the failure of the negotiation. He had entered into it most reluctantly, nothing but a stern sense of necessity having induced him to countenance the attempt. Now that it had been made and had failed, he was free to continue the defence, and to carry out his original project of burying himself and his fraternity beneath the ruins of the city.

The recommencement of hostilities was followed up by an assault on the retrenchment of the Spanish bastion still held by the knights. This took place on the 17th December, and although the struggle was continued throughout the whole day, the Turks were once more worsted and compelled to retire dis​comfited. On the following day. however, they were more aucces8ful, for the assault being renewed, they gained undisputed possession of the whole of the work. Unable to control the panic of the multitude, who were now clamouring for unconditional surrender, and feeling sure that they would take action themselves if longer opposed in their views, L’Isle Adam was again compelled to open negotiations. Fresh envoys were deepatched to Solyman with carte blanche to surrender the town on the best terms they could secure. Solyman received the messengers in his pavilion in all the splendour of imperial pomp, surrounded by the janissaries bf his body-guard. On hearing the errand which brought them into his presence, he consented to renew the offers he had previously made, and these were at once accepted by the envoys. The principal stipulations were that the citizens should remain in perfect freedom, both as to their persons and religion; that the knights should be allowed to leave the island in their own galleys, bearing with them all their personal property; that such of the citizens as preferred to follow their fortunes rather than remain at Rhodes under Ottoman dominion should have free permission to do so, and that twelve clear days should be granted for the embarkation. The churches were guaranteed from profanation, and all their sacred relics were to remain the property of the Order. That the due execution of the treaty might be insured, the Turkish army was to be withdrawn from the vicinity of the town, and only a select body of janissaries was to enter the gates and take possession on behalf of the sultan. In return for this clemency, so unusual in those days of bloody reprisal, the knights were to yield up peaceable possession, not only of the city, but of all the islands dependent on Rhodes, as well as the castle of St. Peter on the mainland. Twenty-five knights, of whom two were to be grand-crosses, and the same number of citizens, were to be given as hostages for the due execution of the treaty. As soon as these persons made their appearance in the Ottoman camp, the aga of the janissaries, with the specified number of troops, entered the town and took formal possession of it.

Thus the island of Rhodes, after having remained for two centuries in the occupation of the knights of St. John, once more ​reverted to the power of the Moslem. All the skill which engineering science had developed upon its massive fortifications, all the beauties which art had lavished on its buildings, were now lost to the Order and to Christianity. That lovely island, the garden of the East, that city whose ramparts had so long frowned with proud disdain upon its foes, now no longer acknowledged the sway of the friars of the Hospital. Still bearing the traces of its former grandeur, and still displaying in its buildings the magnificence of those who had raised it to what it was, it passed for ever from the rule of those gallant warriors, who were once more doomed to seek their fortune on the wide world.

To the nations of Europe the loss of Rhodes was a subject of the deepest shame. Apathy and indifference had been suffered to continue during the six long months that this memorable struggle lasted, and its unfortunate issue remains a blot on the history of the sixteenth century. To the knights of St. John the event bears with it no such memory of disgrace. The gallantry which had so long withstood overwhelming and desperate odds was everywhere recognized and enthusiastically hailed by admiring nations. As the struggle progressed, and its ultimate issue became more and more certain, men gazed with astonishment and awe upon that touching scene of heroism and endurance. When at length, driven from their home, sadly reduced in number, and ruined in prospects, the relics of that gallant band wandered westward in search of a new resting-place, they were everywhere greeted with rapturous welcome. The feeling of all was well expressed by Charles V., who, on hearing of the disastrous issue of the siege, turned to his courtiers and exclaimed, “There has been nothing in the world so well lost as Rhodes.”

  1. ↑ His father’s last words to him had been, “You will be a great and powerful monarch, provided you capture Belgrade, and drive away the knights from Rhodes.”
  2. ↑ The names of the English knights which have been preserved are as follows:—
    • John Bouch, or Buck, Turcopolier, killed.
    • Nicholas Hussey, commander of the English bastion, or tower of St. Mary.
    • William Onascon, commander of the English quarter.
    • Thomas Sheffield, commander of the palace postern.
    • Nicholas Farfan, in the suite of the Grand-Master.
    • Henry Mansel, in the suite of the Grand-Master, killed.
    • William Weston.
    • John Ranson, or Rawson.
    • William Tuest (? West).
    • John Baron.
    • Thomas Remberton, or Pemberton.
    • George Asfelz.
    • John Lotu.
    • Francis Buet (? Butt).
    • Giles Rosel (? Russell).
    • George Emer (? Aylmer).
    • Michael Roux.
    • Nicholas Usel.
    • Otho de Montselli, or Monteilli.
    • Nicholas Roberts.

    The last-named knight wrote an account of the siege to the earl of Surrey (vide Appendix No. 8). It has been suggested, and with much probability, that the William Onascon, commander of the English quarter, is the same as the William Weston who stands a little below him on the list. The latter was a very distinguished knight, and was not long after made grand-prior of England. He would, therefore, have been a likely person to be selected as commander of the quarter for that langue. If this be so, the number of names would be reduced to nineteen. Although there is no record of the deaths of any of these knights except Buck and Mansell, it is probable that the majority of them lost their lives in the siege, as it is stated that, owing to the numerous casualties amongst the members of the English langue, the defence of the tower of St. Mary had eventually to be transferred to knights of other langues.

  3. ↑ The Turkish account of the sultan’s arrival at Rhodes differs somewhat from the above, which is taken from the narratives of the European historians. According to Ahmed Hafiz, the force which first landed only consisted of the troops usually carried in the fleet, together with the Wallachian peasantry. The sultan advanced by land at the head of the real army, and the fleet having returned to Asia Minor for the purpose, he embarked with his forces, and was conveyed to Rhodes. The date of his landing is uncertain, but it must have been somewhere about the middle of July.
  4. ↑ The name of this person has not been recorded. It has by some writers been supposed that he was a myth, and that it was D’Amaral who was guilty of the treasonous acts imputed to the Jew. This, however, could not be the case, as it will be seen further on that the doctor was discovered and suffered the penalty of death before the conclusion of the siege.
  5. ↑ It has already been mentioned that these palms are supposed to be 2.9 inches long.
  6. ↑ Hafiz always speaks of the Ottoman forces as “the victorious,” even when impartially recording their failures.
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