A History of the Knights of Malta/Chapter 8

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A History of the Knights of Malta, or the Order of St. John of Jerusalem (1883)

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4777258A History of the Knights of Malta, or the Order of St. John of Jerusalem — Chapter 81883

CHAPTER VIII.

1365—1402.

Election of Raymond Beranger
Expedition to Alexandria and capture of the town
Election of Heredia
His previous history
He escorts the Pope to Rome
Joins the expedition to Patras
Capture of the town
Heredia falls into the hands of the Turks
His ransom
Schism in the church
Heredia returns to Avignon
His death
Election of Philibert de Naillac
Battle of Nicopolis
Purchase of the Morea
Its subsequent restoration
Timour the Tartar
His overthrow of Bajazet
Loss of Smyrna.

The vacancy caused by the death of Roger de Pins was, as recorded at the end of the sixth chapter, filled by Raymond Beranger, who, like his predecessor, was a knight of Provence. He inaugurated his accession by an expedition, undertaken in concert with the king of Cyprus, against the infidel. The port of Alexandria had of late years become the principal rendezvous of the Turkish corsairs who infested the Levant. He determined, therefore, in conjunction with his ally, to make a sadden and bold attempt against this powerful fortress. The armament assembled in Cyprus, and consisted of a fleet mustering nearly one hundred vessels of various sizes, carrying a large body of troops, most of whom were mercenaries serving under the banner of the Hospital. The sudden appearance of this expedition within the harbour of Alexandria took the garrison completely by surprise, and the Grand-Master, hoping to profit by their confusion, ordered an immediate assault. The defenders were, however, too numerous to allow the success of this attempt at a coup de main. The parapets were speedily lined on au sides, and wherever the Christians attempted to penetrate, they were met by a most obstinate resistance.

This was the first occasion upon which, within the lifetime of any of its members, the Order had taken part in a regular expedition against the Turks. The fraternity was therefore nerved and excited by feelings of emulation to vie with the prowess of their ancestors. In vain the defenders poured the moat murderous missiles upon their opponents. In spite of showers of arrows darkening the air in every direction, heedless of the Greek fire and boiling oil which were streamed upon those who attempted to mount the ladders, or of the huge rocks beneath the weight of which they were crushed to the earth, they still persisted in the assault. Encouraged by the presence and example of their chief, they returned with redoubled ardour after each successive repulse, until at length, overcoming every obstacle, they forced their way into the town, and drove the enemy into the citadel. This fierce struggle cost the Order the lives of no less than one hundred knights, but its results were so important that the sacrifice was well warranted. The booty found in the town was enormous, and the shipping in the harbour so extensive that its destruction was a serious blow to the naval power of the Turk.

This capture took place on the 10th October, 1365, and Raymond at once prepared to follow up his success by attacking the citadel. Before he was able to accomplish his design, he received intelligence that the sultan of Cairo was advancing to its relief with an army so considerable as to render a further contest hopeless. He therefore re. embarked his forces, and returned in triumph to Rhodes. Unfortunately before doing so, a disgraceful scene of murder and pillage took place, and Beranger left behind him only a town in flames, the bulk of the population massacred, and a wail of execration at the very name of Christian. A large number of Europeans who had been captured and made slaves were released and brought to Rhodes, many unfortunate Turks being also taken on board the galleys to undergo in their turn a similar fate. Amongst the former was Pierre de Saint Georges, a nephew of the Pope. This auspicious release went far to ingratiate the fraternity with his Holiness, and rendered him more ready than he had hitherto been to support its interests.

Two years after, the Order, in alliance with the republic of Genoa and the king of Cyprus, attacked and carried the fortresses of Tripoli, Tarsus, Laodicea, and Bellinas. These successes so enraged the sultan Amurath I., that he commenced preparations for an attack on Rhodes. Beranger at once took all the necessary precautions to resist such an invasion. He purchased ample stores of provisions, ammunition, etc., for the town and other fortified points in the island, and called upon the various grand-priories to supply reinforcements of men, horses, and arms. The storm, however, passed away without bursting, and Beranger was left to end his days in peace. This event took place in the year 1374, when Robert Jiilhiac, the grand-prior of France, was appointed to fill the vacancy. At the time of his election he was residing in his priory, and before making his journey to Rhodes, he proceeded to Avignon to pay his homage to the Pope. Whilst there he received instructions from his Holiness that the knights should in future take under their control the entire responsibility and direction of the defence of Smyrna. This was a post which, whilst most valuable to the interests of Christendom, was one of extreme danger and costliness to its immediate holders. Situated as it was at a considerable distance from Rhodes, its garrison was completely isolated. Any energetic attempt, therefore, upon the part of the enemy by whom it was surrounded would probably lead to its destruction before sufficient reinforcements could arrive. The cost also of the maintenance of such a force as the place imperatively demanded was a terrible drain upon the already crippled resources of the treasury at Rhodes. As a partial alleviation of this burden, the Pope assigned for the special support of the defence of Smyrna the sum of one thousand livres annually, payable out of the tithes of the kingdom of Cyprus.

Charged with these unwelcome instructions, Julliac proceeded to Rhodes, and there, before a general council, he announced to its members the mandate of the pontiff. The dismay upon receiving this intelligence was unbounded. It was felt that the post was one of almost certain destruction sooner or later, and that whoever might be selected to form one of its garrison would be proceeding to inevitable death. At the same time they saw plainly enough how difficult it would be for them to oppose the wishes of the Pope without incurring the imputation of cowardice, a charge from which they naturally shrank with chivalric horror. It was therefore decided to accept the trust, and to rely on the spirit of the fraternity to furnish volunteers for the purpose. This confidence was not misplaced; the necessary numbers came forward with alacrity, and were at once despatched to take over their new acquisition.

The old and constantly recurring difficulties as to the nonpayment of responsions from the various priories again came to the front during Julliac’s rule. It was decided in council that any receiver who failed in remitting the due amounts to the general treasury, should be at once superseded and replaced by one who would make his payments with punctuality. The same regulation was to be enforced against commanders. The execution of this decree led to much ill-feeling on the part of the defaulters, who laid their remonstrances before the Pope. Julliac showed great tact in his manner of dealing with this appeal. He pointed out to his Holiness that it was impossible for the Grand-Master and council to carry on the government of the Order if their decrees were to be constantly objected to and suspended from action until the matter had been decided. The Pope saw the justice of the complaint, and ruled that all regulations emanating from the council were to be at once carried into effect, any appeal therefrom notwithstanding. As regarded the immediate subject in dispute, he further decided that the fiat of the Grand-Master as to removals from office on account of non-payment of responsions should be final.

This firmness and decision on the part of Julliac was attended with the happiest results. It was seen on all sides that he was a man not to be trifled with, at the same time that he was rigidly just and impartial in his decisions. Unfortunately he did not live long enough to carry out any permanent reform, as he died on the 29th July, 1377. He was buried in an antique Greek sarcophagus of white marble, which was utilized for the purpose. This sarcophagus, after the capture of Rhodes by the Turks in 1522, was emptied of its contents and turned into a basin for a public fountain. It remained converted to this ignoble use until quite recently, when it was purchased by the French government, and deposited in the museum of Cluny. The inscription placed on it at the time of Julliac’s death still remains. It runs thus:—“Rio jacet in Christo religiosus et pater Ordinis Frater Robertus de Juihiaco quondam Magister sacr domus Hospitals Sancti Joannis Hierosolimitani qui obiit Die XXIX Julii Anno Domini MCCCLXXVII Cujus anima requiescat in pace.” “Here lies in Christ the holy brother and father of his Order, Brother Robert do Juiliac, formerly Master of the sacred house of the Hospital of St. John of Jerusalem, who died on the 29th day of July in the year of our Lord 1377, may his soul rest in peace.”

Juan Ferdinand d’Heredia, the castellan of Emposta, grand- prior of Catalonia, Castile, and St. Gilles, the most extraordinary pluralist that had ever been known in the fraternity, was nominated as the new Grand-Master. The career of this man had been so strange, and his influence over the fortunes of the Order both for evil and for good so powerful, that he has with justice been looked on as one of the most conspicuous characters who have figured in its annals. Descended from a noble family in Aragon, he was the younger brother of the Grand Justiciary of that kingdom, a post of honour and importance second only to that of the crown. His brother, who had been for some years married without issue, was anxious to see the family perpetuated through him, and therefore caused him to marry at a very early age. The fruits of this union were only two girls, at the birth of the younger of whom Juan was left a widower. His brother, still eager for an heir, lost no time in securing for him a second alliance, selecting for the purpose a niece of his own wife. From this marriage a son was born, who was regarded both by his father and uncle as the future inheritor of the vast wealth and high dignities of the family, Juan himself being destitute of fortune, and entirely dependent on his brother. His second wife died after giving birth to a daughter, leaving him again a widower with four children, three girls and a boy. Shortly afterwards, to his dismay, and to the complete overthrow of all his expectations, his brother’s wife, who had for so many years been childless, gave birth to a son, whose advent was speedily followed by that of another. This disastrous incident left Juan, who was of a high spirit and haughty temperament, beggared in fortune, and without prospects for the future. Unable to rest quietly in his new position, and to remain through life an abject pensioner on his brother’s bounty, he secretly took his departure for Rhodes, leaving his children under the protection of their uncle. There he was received with every demonstration of welcome by the Grand-Master, Elyou de Villanova, and at once professed as a knight. He soon ingratiated himself with the dignitaries of the fraternity, and his advancement became as rapid as his high birth and unquestionable merits warranted, lie was promoted in succession to the commandery of Alhambra, to that of Villet, then to the bailiwick of Capsa, and lastly to the castellany of Emposta, one of the most important posts possessed by the Order.

The grand-priory of Catalonia having become vacant, the nomination of a successor to the dignity gave rise to a dispute between the Pope and the Grand-Master. The former had nominated a protdgi of his own in defiance of the wishes of the council, and in utter disregard to the claims of seniority. They strongly resisted the nomination, and appointed a successor on their own account. In such a delicate matter the Grand-Master felt desirous that the dispute should, if possible, be decided amicably. He determined, therefore, upon sending an envoy to the court of Avignon, with plenary powers to treat with his holiness upon the disputed question. This was an office of much delicacy, requiring a person of extreme tact, in whose judgment and good faith the council could place implicit reliance. Heredia was unanimously selected for the duty, and, having received the most detailed instructions as to the line of conduct he should pursue towards the Pope, he set sail for France.

After his arrival at Avignon he was not long in discovering that it would be impossible to induce Clement to revoke the nomination he had made to the vacant dignity. Heredia therefore directed his energies towards the bringing about of a compromise which should be amicable in its nature, and by which the dignity of neither party should be offended. After much negotiation with the rival claimants, in the course of which he displayed in an eminent degree that diplomatic address which was destined shortly to secure his own political advancement, he obtained their joint consent to an arrangement by which the revenues of the priory were to be divided between them, the Pope’s nominee retaining the title. To this decision the pontiff willingly gave his sanction, overjoyed to find the dispute brought to a close without the necessity for any retractation on his part. The compromise was not equally gratifying to the council, and Heredia felt that his own position at Rhodes would probably be much affected thereby. He, moreover, was not slow in perceiving that he would be in a position to secure his own advancement far better by ingratiating himself with the Pope than by a weary residence at Rhodes with an offended chief and antagonistic council. Instead, therefore, of taking his departure after his mission had been brought to a conclusion, he lingered at Aviguon until he had succeeded in obtaining from the pontiff the appointment of supervisor to the disputed priory, neither of its joint holders being competent, from their advanced age, to undertake the duty themselves. It was not long before they both died, and the appointment being thus again thrown open, Heredia, who had by this time completely established himself in favour at Avignon, obtained from the complaisant pontiff his own nomination to the vacant dignity.

The dismay of the council at Rhodes when the intelligence reached them of this new usurpation of authority on the part of Clement may be readily conceived. This was aggravated by the fact that the envoy from whose diplomatic address they had expected such great results had himself taken advantage of those abuses which they had commissioned him to oppose, and had secured a nomination to which, by the rights of seniority, he did not possess any claim. The new grand-prior felt that, after having taken this step, all idea of a return to Rhodes must be abandoned. He therefore exerted himself to the utmost to secure his position at the court of Avignon, and to ingratiate himself with his new patron. In this he was so successful that ere long he became the favoured minister and principal adviser of the Pope.

About this time hostilities had broken out between the kings of England and France. An immediate collision being anticipated, Clement, who was earnestly desirous of avoiding such a calamity, despatched Heredia in the capacity of a mediator to the hostile camps, trusting that his diplomatic skill might suffice to bring about a suspension of arms. The envoy, who entertained but slender hopes of being able to effect such a result, secured the pontiff’s permission to attach himself to whichever party was willing to accept his mediation should the opposing side decline his services. In the course of his negotiations he discovered that the king of France was desirous of ridding himself, upon any terms, of the English invaders, and was therefore most willing to accept his good offices. On the other hand, when he visited the British camp, he found Edward in a very different mood. His offers of mediation were peremptorily refused, and he himself treated with the coolest disdain. Irritated at this behaviour on the part of the English monarch, he announced that, in pursuance of the permission he had received from the Pope, he should join the ranks of the French king in the struggle which he perceived to be impending.

Within a few days the battle of Crecy was fought. Heredia, under the French banner, displayed the most conspicuous gallantry, and, towards the close of the engagement, was the means of saving the life of the French king. Philip had been unhorsed and surrounded, when the grand-prior cut his way into the midst, gave the king his own horse, and arrested his pursuers, thus enabling him to make his way to the Chateau de Broye. Heredia was desperately wounded in the effort, and lay for some time in a very dangerous condition. Before his recovery was complete it came to his ears that some of the chivalry of England in the hostile camp had expressed themselves in no measured terms as to the impropriety of an envoy having taken an active part in the battle. Heedless of his own enfeebled condition, he at once despatched a herald to Edward, offering the gage of battle to any one who considered his conduct unbecoming the character of his office. This gage would undoubtedly have been accepted had not Edward at once published the declaration made to him by Heredia before the battle, and therefore honourably acquitted him of all impropriety. As soon as he was sufficiently recovered from his wounds he once more resumed his office of negotiator. It is to his good services on that occasion that the truce, which was shortly afterwards concluded between the two monarchs, has been generally attributed.

During the pontificate of Innocent VI., the successor of Clement, the fortunes of Heredia reached their zenith. He had been the most intimate friend of the new pontiff prior to his elevation, and now became his sole confidant and adviser. He was appointed governor of Avignon, and the affairs of the papacy were entirely committed into his hands. Whilst occupying this exalted position he was courted on all sides. The princes of Europe and their ministers sought by the most lavish gifts to ingratiate themselves with a man in whom so much power was vested. He consequently amassed a large amount of treasure, which he bestowed upon his children. These, now no longer dependent on their uncle, found themselves raised by their father to a position suited to the claims of their birth, and surrounded with all the pomp and luxury which wealth could bestow. Heredia was a man of no ordinary mind; there was a magnificence in his ideas more suited to one born to the inheritance of a princely revenue than to the cadet of a family, however noble. Thus we find him, in gratitude to his patron, surrounding Avignon with a fortified enceinte at his own sole cost, a work which must have entailed the expenditure of a vast sum. The Pope, equally prodigal in his gifts, though more crafty as to the source from whence he drew them, bestowed upon him in return the two grand-priories of Castile and St. Gilles. As the cost of this gift fell exclusively upon the unfortunate Order, the council was naturally very indignant. The just claims of the senior knights were by the mere dictum of the Pope set aside, and the principal dignities which should have been in its gift were lavished upon a man who had proved himself a. traitor to its interests.

After the death of Innocent and during the sway of his successor, Urban V., Heredia perceived that his influence at the papal court was sensibly declining. The death of Urban, and the election of Gregory XI., in 1370, caused it to become still further curtailed. He therefore came to the conclusion that it would be wise to provide himself an honourable retirement for his old age, far from the scene of political turmoil in the midst of which he had been for so many years plunged. With this view he cast his eyes upon the Grand-Mastership at Rhodes as a position precisely suited to his purpose. The death of Julliac presented him with an appropriate opportunity for carrying his design into execution. Availing himself of the vast interest which his position had secured for him amongst the cardinals and others whose voices were likely to control the electors in their choice, he caused himself to be put in nomination. The council had so often felt the weight of his influence when exerted prejudicially to themselves, that they were not slow in realizing the policy of disarming such potent antagonism by linking his interests indissolubly with their own. It was universally admitted that he was at the time the most able man within the ranks of the fraternity, and had he not so often proved a bitter enemy to its interests, his election would have been unanimous; as matters stood, it was not till after a long and acrimonious discussion that his partisans were able to carry their point. Eventually they were successful, and Heredia found himself duly elected to the post he coveted, and to which it had hitherto appeared so improbable that he could ever attain.

It was at this time that Gregory carried into execution the project he had long entertained of restoring the seat of the papacy to Rome. A period of seventy years had now elapsed since Clement V. had removed it to Avignon, and Gregory began to perceive that unless some such measure wore speedily adopted, the allegiance of the City of the Seven Hills would in all probability be lost to the pontificate. The Pope was escorted on his voyage from Marseilles to Italy by the new Grand-Master, who had assembled a fleet of eight galleys for his own conveyance to Rhodes, and it is recorded that he steered with his own hands the galley in which his Holiness was embarked. In the Gulf of Lions they encountered a severe tempest, during which Heredia, in his novel capacity, displayed most excellent seamanship in extricating his vessel from peril. It is much to be doubted whether this statement can be credited. his career, although a varied and a notable one, had not led him much upon the sea; it is therefore more than probable that whatever skill may have been shown at this crisis was due to the presence of some humbler individual, whose nautical knowledge was at the service of the Grand-Master.

Having seen the Pope securely established in his new home, Heredia took his leave, and proceeded on his way to Rhodes. Whilst off the coast of the Morea he fell in with a Venetian fleet, then on its way to Patras, a city which had belonged to the republic, during which time it had been famed for its commerce in silk. It had recently been captured by the Turks, and the object of the expedition was to attempt its recovery. The Venetian general was overjoyed at meeting with the Grand-Master, and implored him to lend his valuable aid in the undertaking. Heredia felt that his presence was urgently required at Rhodes, and he had, moreover, attained an age when he might well have been excused from joining in any such enterprise. His, however, was a spirit in which the fire of chivalry burnt as brightly in his old age as in his youth. Casting aside all the dictates of prudence, he entered eagerly into the views of the Venetians, and joined his force to theirs against the common enemy.

The allied fleets, having reached their destination, disembarked their forces, who marched direct on Patras, situated about a mile from the shore. The town fell at the first assault, but the citadel, which was very strongly fortified, resisted all attempts at an escalade. It was soon seen that nothing short of a regular siege would suffice for its capture. This was therefore commenced in due form, and through the vigour of Heredia, pushed forward with extreme rapidity. A practicable breach was no sooner established than, weary with the delay that had taken place, and irritated at the losses his force had sustained, he at once directed an assault to be delivered. Impetuous as ever, in spite of his years, he was the first to plant a ladder on the point of attack, and thence surmounting the breach, he forced his way on to the rampart before he could be followed by any of his knights. The first person he encountered there was the Turkish commandant, whom he at once assailed. A desperate struggle ensued, which ended in the death of the Turk, Heredia cutting off his head and bearing it away in triumph. The loss of their leader having disheartened the garrison, a very slender resistance was made, and the capture of Patras was completed.

Unfortunately for Heredia, he was induced by the Venetians to extend his conquests still further in the Morea, and the city of Corinth was selected as the next point of attack. Whilst making a reconnoissance before this place with a very slender escort, Heredia was surprised by an ambuscade of the enemy. After a most energetic but fruitless resistance, he was captured and carried off into the city. The chiefs of the expedition were so dismayed at this untoward event, that they offered the restoration of Patras as his ransom. This, however, the Turks refused, asserting that they should soon be in a position to re-capture the town for themselves. Upon this the Christians supplemented their offer by the further proposal to pay a large sum of money, and to leave the three grand-priors of England, St. Gilles, and Rome, all of whom were then with the army, as hostages for the payment. It is stated by almost all the historians who have narrated the event, that this offer having been accepted by the Turks, Heredia himself put his veto on it, stating that it was far better that an old man like himself should perish in slavery than that three more youthful and valuable members should be lost to the Order, even for a time. He also declined the payment of any ransom out of the public treasury, asserting that he had sufficiently enriched his own family to enable them to come to his assistance in this his hour of need. No entreaties, they add, could change the indomitable resolution of the gallant old man, and his companions were reluctantly compelled to leave him in the hands of the enemy, where he remained for a period of three years, until, in 1381, he was ransomed by his family, and thus enabled to proceed to Rhodes.

Such is the story as told by the leading historians, with, however, one notable exception. Bosio, the Italian writer, who is in many respects the most trustworthy chronicler of his epoch, asserts that Heredia was eventually induced to permit his ransom to be effected by the Order, pending the arrival of the necessary funds from his family in Spain; and that the three grand-priors were left as hostages until the money was sent from Rhodes. This certainly seems the most rational solution of the difficulty, and it is very probably the true record of what did actually take place.

During this interval a schism had sprung up in the Church, which was destined to have a most pernicious effect upon the Order of St. John. At the death of Gregory, in 1378, the populace of Rome, fearful lest the cardinals, then assembled for the election of his successor, should choose a pontiff who would restore the seat of government to Avignon, compelled them, by the most open and glaring intimidation, to nominate an Italian, the Neapolitan archbishop of Bara. This prelate ascended the papal throne under the title of Urban VI. In spite of the protests which poured in from all quarters against the validity of the election, he at once assumed the reins of government and the exercise of his office. The cardinals, on the other hand, had no sooner escaped from their thraldom at Rome than they reassembled in a secure spot from which they decreed their former appointment invalid, on the score of intimidation. They further proceeded to a new election, and nominated Robert, brother of the count of Geneva, to the pontificate under the title of Clement VII. The rival popes fulminated their ecclesiastical thunders, each against the adherents of his opponent, and the schism rapidly spread throughout the whole of Europe. Heredia, upon his release from captivity, at once declared for Clement, in which he was supported by the convent at Rhodes and the langues of France, Provence, Auvergne, and Spain. The Italian, German, and English langues, on the other hand, joined the party of Urban, and thus the dispute found its way into the heart of the Order. As a further complication, Pope Urban, in revenge for the Grand-Master’s declaration in favour of his rival, formally deposed him, and on his own authority nominated Richard Carracciolo, grand-prior of Capua, as his successor. It has been a disputed point how far Carracciolo can be considered a legitimate Grand-Master, some writers having recognised his claim to the dignity, whilst others ignore him altogether. As the deposition of Heredia and the election of Carracciolo never emanated from the council of the Order, nor were afterwards ratified by them, but were simply the arbitrary acts of a pontiff whose own title was not recognized by the majority of the fraternity, there can be but little doubt that the nomination was invalid, and that Heredia still remained the legitimate Grand-Master. This view of the case is materially strengthened by the fact that on the death of Carracciolo, which took place before that of Heredia, Boniface IX., who had replaced Urban, refrained from nominating a new chief, and contented himself with making his own near relative, Boniface of Caramandra, lieutenant of the Order. He at the same time annulled all the appointments which had been conferred by Carracciolo, in order to remove, as far as practicable, any further cause for schism.

During these disputes and disorders Heredia found it was impossible to enforce due obedience to his authority from many of the European commanders. Availing themselves of the doubtful nature of his position they neglected to pay their responsions; and repudiating all submission to the decrees of the council, they assumed an independence most fatal to the interests of the fraternity. Under these circumstances Heredia was requested to return to Avignon, and to seek at the hands of Pope Clement the means of reducing the refractory commanders to submission. Mindful of the bad use which he had once previously made of his authority on a similar occasion, the council, prior to his departure, extracted from him a pledge that he would faithfully remit to the public treasury all the responsions which he might collect. So as to compel him to hasten his return to Rhodes they further decreed that during his absence from the convent the power should be withheld from him of nominating to any vacant dignities. They carried their precautions still further by selecting four knights, who were to accompany him, ostensibly as an escort, but in reality as a check on his movements. Their suspicions proved groundless. Heredia, as Grand-Master, was a very different person from the young and ambitious knight, with his fortune still before him and his way to push in the world. At his request the Pope summoned several chapters- general at Avignon, at all of which he presided, and in which many beneficial regulations were enacted. By precept and example he succeeded in recalling a. great majority of the recusants to their duty, and obtained for the treasury the payment of many arrears in the responsions.

As at this time Smyrna and Rhodes were threatened by the Turks, he despatched to both places, at his own cost, vessels laden with provisions and munitions of war. He also made several foundations in favour of his langue in the kingdom of Aragon.

At length, in the year 1396, Heredia, bowed with years and with the cares of his office, sank into the grave, universally regretted and beloved by his fraternity. The virtues and good deeds of his old age had obliterated the reminiscences of what he had been during the earlier portion of his career. Men forebore to think on all the wrongs which he had wrought against them in former times when contemplating the advantages and the prosperity, which, during his rule of twenty years, he had been the means of promoting. He was, in truth, a strange compound of good and evil. Greedy of wealth he was, yet no miser; he was ever prompt to scatter with a lavish hand, and with the most magnificent profusion, those treasures which he had toiled so incessantly to amass. Ambitious in the highest degree, he scrupled not at the means he employed to attain power; yet, having gained the highest dignity which the Order could bestow, he used that power only for the public service, and for the most beneficent purposes. Indeed, both his rapacity and his ambition seem to have sprung more from the desire to benefit his children than himself. Their position in life once fairly established, much of the eagerness with which he had pursued wealth and power seems to have subsided. He was left in his old age to earn for himself that high position which he undoubtedly occupies as one of the greatest and wisest of those who had as yet swayed the fortunes of the fraternity. Vertot well sums up his career by saying that it would have been good for the Order had he never entered it; or, having once reached the goal, had he been permitted never to be taken away from it. He was buried in the monastery of N. D. de Caste, in Spain, of which he was the founder.

The vacancy caused by his death occurred at a time when the convent was not only distracted by the papal schism still raging in Europe, but also threatened by a new and redoubtable antagonist in the East. Under these circumstances it was necessary that it should be extremely cautious in the selection of a successor. Philibert do Naillac, a native of Bern, grand- prior of Aquitaine, was the knight who enlisted in his favour the majority of suffrages. Subsequent events fully bore out the wisdom of the choice. He had no sooner assumed the duties of government than he was called upon to join in a general European Crusade against the foe already alluded to.

Bajazet, or Bayazid, a descendant and successor of Othman, had overcome in succession most of the petty sovereigns by whom he was surrounded. His ambition increasing in proportion to his successes, he threatened an irruption into Hungary. Thence he openly boasted that he would push his way into Italy, where, after having planted his standard on the Capitol at Rome, he would convert the altar of St. Peter’s into a manger for his horse. The Pope became terrified at these menaces, which the power of Bajazet’s army and the feebleness of the eastern portion of Europe rendered by no means impossible of execution. He therefore invoked the aid of Europe to crush the proud dream of the aspiring chieftain. In obedience to his call a league was formed, comprising Charles VI., king of France, Philip the Bold, duke of Burgundy, the republic of Venice, Michael Paleologus, the Greek emperor, the knights of Rhodes, and the chiefs of sundry other petty principalities in the East.

This expedition, of which the greater part. was composed of Frenchmen, marched through Germany, Bavaria, and Austria into Hungary, where they were joined by de Nai]ac, with a large contingent of his fraternity. The count de Nevers, eldest son of the duke of Burgundy, commanded the French contingent, whilst Sigismond, king of Hungary, attached the Hospitallers, with whose worth he was well acquainted, to his own forces. The army which had thus assembled was so powerful that throughout its ranks an overweening confidence and a fatal sense of security prevailed. It was deemed impossible that Bajazet, with his wild hordes, could for one moment stand against the proud array advancing to overwhelm him. Their march, in consequence, resembled more a triumphal progress than a critical movement in the face of a bold and wary enemy.

During this time Bajazet had been engaged in the blockade of Constantinople, a city which he was most anxious to subdue, but which at the moment he did not feel sufficiently strong to attack openly. He remained quietly with his troops, not attempting to oppose any check to the advance of the Christians, but contenting himself with watching warily the general course of events, and studiously concealing all information as to his own movements. The allies having passed the Danube, entered Bulgaria 100,000 strong, of whom one-half were cavalry.

Their first operation was to undertake the siege of Nicopolis, a powerful fortress on the right bank of the Danube, a little below the confluence of the Aiuta and Osma. This place was founded by Trajan, and some remains of his walls are still to be seen. The works occupied a height dominating over that part of the town which lay without the enceinte. It was a very strong post and well fortified, being one of considerable commercial importance. At this time it was commanded by one of Bajazet’s most experienced leaders. The defence was conducted with the utmost skill and bravery, every inch of the ground being warmly contested. The Christians found the advance very slow and their successes unimportant, when taken into consideration with the losses they daily sustained. During all this time their camp was the scene of the most reckless debauchery, and the reins of discipline seem to have been utterly relaxed. No attempts were made to gather information as to what was going on beyond the immediate vicinity of the army, and all were lulled into a state of the most supine and fatal security. Meanwhile Bajazet, having collected his forces, was advancing with the utmost rapidity and the most profound secrecy to the relief of the beleaguered fortress. So admirably were his dispositions carried out that it was not until his army appeared in their front that the negligent and incautious besiegers had the slightest intimation of his proximity. What ensued was a precise counterpart of those scenes so often before enacted upon the soil of Palestine. Headstrong obstinacy and unthinking impetuosity were once more destined to bring about crushing and humiliating defeat.

Sigismond was well acquainted with the practice then universally prevalent amongst Eastern generals of placing in the van of their armies the most worthless of their levies. These were intended to bear the brunt of the first onset, whilst the better and more trustworthy troops were held in reserve for subsequent action, so soon as the vigour of the attack had exhausted itself. He therefore proposed that a similar measure should be adopted in their own army, arid suggested that his raw militia would be the most suitable opponents for the undisciplined hordes of the enemy. The count de Nevers, however, with that blind obstinacy by which the bravest men so often mar their fortunes, would listen to no such proposition. He asserted that the van was the post of honour, and as such belonged of right to the chivalry of France. The attempt of Sigismond to substitute in their place his Hungarian forces arose, he considered, simply from a desire to secure for his own nation the chief glory of the day. Supported as he was by leaders as hot-headed and arrogant as himself, all remonstrances were unavailing. The king was therefore reluctantly compelled to witness the flower of the combined army wasting its energies and exhausting its powers against the worthless rabble who were preceding the main body of Bajazet’s army.

Eagerly placing himself at the head of his gallant array, de Nevers, with an impetuosity which might have led to success had it been tempered with the smallest display of prudence, dashed furiously at the advancing foe. As might have been expected, the swarms opposed to him were scattered like chaff before the wind. Without offering any resistance worthy of the name, they either suffered themselves to be helplessly slaughtered, or endeavoured to purchase safety by a tumultuous and disorderly flight. The dispersion of this advanced body soon disclosed to de Nevers’ view a spectacle which would have dismayed any but the strongest nerve. Directly in his front were drawn up, in dense and serried masses, a huge column of janissaries, then justly considered the flower of the Turkish infantry. Their vast and solid battalions presented a firm and apparently impassable barrier to his further progress. Without a moment’s pause, however, the French dashed at their new assailants, and a desperate combat ensued, which lasted for a considerable time before success declared itself on either side. The impetuous onset of the Christians proved in the long run irresistible, and the proud janissaries, whose renown and unbroken career of success had up to this moment led them to consider themselves invincible, quailed beneath the vigour of do Nevers’ attack. After a protracted though vain attempt to maintain their ground, they at length gave way, broke their ranks, and sought shelter in flight.

Bajazet had as yet brought into action only a portion of his forces. On perceiving the disaster which had befallen his janissaries, he advanced for their support a large body of cavalry, in whose rear the flying infantry found cover from the fierce pursuit of the foe. The ardour of the French appeared to rise with each successive obstacle. Heedless of the vastly superior numbers opposed to them, and without waiting for support from the remainder of the army, they dashed at their new antagonists with so vigorous a charge that they carried all before them. This second barrier was swept away with the same facility as the first.

Up to this point all had gone well. The main body of the army had apparently only to remain quiet spectators, whilst the chivalry of France were overcoming and dispersing in helpless confusion ten times their number of the choicest forces under the banner of Bajazet. Had de Nevers halted there, and rallying his scattered forces permitted the rest of the army to advance and follow up the victory he had so gloriously achieved, that day must have witnessed the complete overthrow of Bajazet’s power. Fate, however, had decreed it otherwise. Although his ruin was indeed close at hand, it was not by Christian might that his destruction was to be accomplished. He was, on the contrary, permitted to enjoy yet one more brief hour of triumph ere his own day of retribution dawned.

Hurried away by the ardour of pursuit, de Nevers did not for one moment stop to consider the exhausted state to which his troops had been reduced by their previous efforts. Pressing forward, he permitted them to break their ranks, and to urge their jaded steeds after the flying foe in every direction. It was whilst they were in this disordered condition that, on crowning the brow of a hill, they were surprised to see on its far side a dense forest of spears, which had hitherto been concealed from their view. This was Bajazet’s grand corps of reserve, with which he still trusted to redeem the fortunes of the day. Placing himself at its head, he prepared once more to renew the combat against his redoubtable antagonists, who had thrice overcome all that had been opposed to them. Those very victories, however, had only the more surely prepared for their present defeat. Men and horses were all exhausted; their ranks were broken, and all organization lost in the late disorderly pursuit. What wonder, then, that this fresh array of troops, led by Bajazet in person, should gain an easy victory! Combat there was little or none, and only a very slender remnant of that gallant band succeeded in extricating itself from the fatal plain.

The scale of victory had now turned. The Hungarians, witnessing the complete destruction of their French allies, in whom they had placed their chief reliance, and being themselves principally raw undisciplined levies of militia, did not wait to encounter the shock of Bajazet’s advance. They gave way at once, and fled ignominiously from the field. The Bavarians, however, under Gara, the elector palatine, and the Styrians under Herman de Cilly, stood firm, and, supported by the knights of Rhodes, sustained with a resolute front the onset of the enemy. Being reinforced by such of the French cavalry as had escaped the previous melée, they resumed the offensive, and to the number of about 12,000, hurled themselves anew on the Turk. At this moment it seemed as though the fate of the day might still be restored. The impetuous charge of those gallant spirits carried them through the serried ranks of the janissaries, who were totally unable to withstand the shock, whilst the sipahis who advanced to their support were thrown into the utmost disorder, and appeared as though they were once more about to quail before the chivalry of Europe.

At this critical moment the Kral of Servia, a faithful ally of Bajazet, rushed to the rescue with a fresh body of troops numbering 5,000. This reinforcement decided the victory in favour of the Turks. The heroic band which had struggled so long and so nobly to restore the fortunes of the day, was crushed by the new foe, and the larger number perished gloriously around their banners. A few faithful knights, amongst whom was Philibert de Naillac, gathered round Sigismond, and with the greatest difficulty extricated him from the battle-field. Having gained the side of the Danube, they placed the king and the Archbishop of Grau in a little boat which was lying beneath the shelter of the bank, they themselves remaining on the shore to cover the retreat of the monarch. As soon they had assured themselves that the stream had carried the boat beyond the reach of the enemy, de Naillac, accompanied by Gara and Cilly, took possession of another boat, and made good their own escape in a similar manner. Most fortunately they very soon encountered the combined fleet of the Hospitallers and Venetians, by which they were promptly conveyed to Rhodes. Here, after a detention of a few days, during which de Naillac entertained his royal guest with great splendour, Sigismond passed on into Dalmatia.

The results of this action, which took place in 1396, and has since been known as the battle of Nicopolis, were most disastrous to the Christians. The whole of the prisoners who fell into the hands of Bajazet, were ordered by him to be murdered in cold blood, to the number of upwards of 10,000. The carnage lasted from daybreak till four o’clock in the afternoon of the day following the battle. Only the count de Nevers, and twenty-four other knights, from whom Bajazet expected a large ransom, were rescued from the general slaughter. If, as has been recorded by contemporary historians, the French, prior to going into action, had massacred such Turkish prisoners as were then in their hands, this butchery may be considered in the light of a reprisal, and its diabolical atrocity somewhat mitigated.

The overthrow of the allied army having left Bajazet completely at liberty, he once more pursued his cherished schemes of conquest. The siege of Constantinople, which had hitherto assumed the form simply of a blockade, was converted into an active operation, and pushed forward with extreme vigour. At the same time he overran the whole of the Morea, and extended his advantages to so great a degree, that the ruler of the country, one of the porphyro-geniti, Theodore Paleologus, fled from his dominions. He took refuge at Rhodes, and whilst there offered to sell his rights over the district to the knights of St. John. This proposal having been accepted, and the price agreed on, which was paid partly in money and partly in jewels, the Order sent commissioners into the Morea to take formal possession of its new acquisition. The inhabitants of Corinth welcomed them with joy, feeling that they would be far more secure wider the white cross banner than under the enfeebled sway of the Paleologi. Bajazet had during this interval been compelled to withdraw his forces from their ravaging expeditions, and to concentrate them for the purpose of opposing a new enemy who had appeared in his rear. The city of Sparta, taking advantage of the temporary freedom gained by the absence of their dreaded foe, refused to admit the commissioners within their walls, or in any way to confirm the transfer which had taken place. Paleologus is suspected of having stimulated this opposition, as he already regretted the sale he had effected, now that the dread of Bajazet was less imminent. The Grand-Master felt that he was in a difficult position. He and his council had been prepared to pay, and to pay liberally, for the sovereignty of the Morea; but this was quite another matter from having to undertake the subjugation of the country. They were therefore compelled to consent to the rescinding of the contract. It was, nevertheless, with the utmost difficulty, and not till after the lapse of several years, that they eventually succeeded in rescuing from the grasp of Paleologus the treasure and jewels which had been handed over to him.

In about the year 1400, as nearly as can be traced, de Naillac built the tower of St. Michael at the western extremity of the main harbour of Rhodes. This tower was square in plan, and three stories in height, the one at the bottom being much lower than the others. A machicolated parapet ran round the top. At each corner was a circular projecting turret, also machicolated. On the top of the tower was an octagon lantern with steps on the outside, giving access to the summit, whence an extensive look-out view could be obtained. The total height of the tower, including lantern, was 150 feet. It bore the escutcheon of de Nalliac as well as that of the Order. A cut-stone gateway connected the tower with a platform, armed on both sides with heavy guns, which swept the harbours. This tower was thrown down in the earthquake of 1863, and the ruins have been removed.

Up to this time the career of the ambitious Bajazet had been unchecked by any serious reverse. One by one he had overcome the petty sovereigns by whom he was surrounded, and establishing himself on the conquered territory, had created a powerful and ever-enlarging kingdom. His recent success at the battle of Nicopolis seemed to open the way for further acquisitions, and to smooth for him the path of ambition he had determined to tread. The capture of Constantinople, and such feeble remnants of the Byzantine empire as were still retained by the Paleologi, had long been a day-dream with him. The moment seemed now to have arrived when that project might be carried into execution. All dread of further opposition from the countries of western Europe was at an end. A wail of lamentation had arisen throughout France when the news reached that country of the fearful slaughter of the battle of Nicopolis, and the inhuman butcheries which had followed it. The penalties of intervention had been too severe and universal to admit of the slightest prospect that any further opposition was to be feared from that quarter. Everything seemed to promise favourably for Bajazet, and consequently most disastrously for the Greek emperor. Under these critical circumstances the latter was at length driven to seek the aid of one whose interposition was in the long run likely to prove as fatal as that of Bajazet.

In an evil hour for Christianity he applied for the assistance of Timour-Lenk, or Tamerlane, the redoubted Tartar chief, the fame of whose exploits was even then ringing throughout the Eastern world. Of the origin of Timour, different versions have been recorded. Some have asserted that he was of very mean parentage, his father having been a simple shepherd, and that he himself had been engaged during his early youth in super-intending the pasturage of his flocks. Others again endeavour to trace his descent from the great Djenghis Khan. Whichever may be the correct version, there is no doubt that he established his power entirely by the strength of his own right hand, and that from the most slender beginnings, he raised himself to a dominion over the countries of the East so extensive as to have excited within his breast the hope of some day aspiring to universal empire. The character of Timour was one which marked him as a being destined to play no ordinary part on the stage of life. With all the qualities requisite for a great commander, he was at the same time endued with the keenest politioal sagacity, a gift which enabled him to consolidate his conquests, so as to render their retention a matter of no difficulty. Naturally ferocious and bloodthirsty, he aimed at a rule of terror, which he considered the surest protection of a sovereign. The saying is attributed to him that the throne of a monarch could never be safe unless its base were floating in blood. The ambitious tone of his mind may be well gathered from another of his favourite sayings, that as there was but one God in heaven, so there should be but one ruler on earth. Indomitable in will, he never formed a resolution without persisting in its execution, in spite of every difficulty. Opposition appeared only to increase his determination, and he thus succeeded in overcoming obstacles before which a less dauntless mind might have been cowed. His person was as singular and conspicuous as his character. He was lame, the result of a fall from the rampart of a fortress which he was assaulting. Notwithstanding this infirmity, he had an upright gait and a proud commanding air. His head was large, his brow expansive, and his hair, which was snowy white, combined with the ruddiness of his complexion to give him a most remarkable appearance. The game of chess was a passion with him, and he had but few equals in the art. Deeply imbued with superstition, he held the priesthood in profound reverence; at the same time his own religion has been much disputed, and appears to have been selected to suit his policy rather than his faith and convictions. As the great majority of his subjects were Mahometans, he adopted their tenets, but he seems never to have practised them very rigidly, nor to have hesitated in any breach of their laws which might advance his temporal prosperity.

Such was the ally whose aid the emperor of Constantinople had invoked, thus bringing upon Europe the savage who had hitherto contented himself with sweeping the vast plains of Asia. Timour, who was not over-pleased at the prospect of so powerful a neighbour as Bajazet, entered willingly into the views of the Greeks. He therefore at once sent an envoy to the Ottoman prince requiring him to desist from the further prosecution of his designs against Constantinople. He also called upon Bajazet to restore to the neighbouring princes, many of whom had taken refuge at his own court, those territories that had been torn from their sway. To this demand Bajazet returned a peremptory refusal, accompanying his reply with the most insulting and offensive threats against his Tartar rival. The fiery nature of Timour was promptly aroused by the terms of Bajazet’s message. He therefore resolved to wreak a bitter vengeance upon the prince who had dared thus to oppose his views and arouse his wrath. A call to arms throughout his extended dominions was speedily obeyed in all quarters, and a vast force, composed of the various nations which acknowledged his sway, was speedily collected beneath his banners.

The first active operation of the war which then. began, was the siege of Sebasta, now Sivas, a powerful fortress in Cappadocia, the defence of which was conducted by Ortogul, a favourite son of Bajazet. The extreme strength of the place, and the powerful garrison within its walls, led that prince to consider that it would be an easy matter to detain Timour until his father should be in a position to advance to his support. Little, however, did he know the audacity and overpowering daring of his opponent. Neglecting all the ordinary routine of a siege, Timour hurled his wild hordes, in endless succession, against the ramparts, and by the sheer force of numbers, succeeded, after an almost incredible amount of slaughter, in forcing his way into the town. The whole of the defenders were at once put to the sword in the fury of the moment, Ortogul himself being one of the victims. The news of this, the first reverse which had fallen upon his arms, accompanied, as it was, by the loss of his favourite son, caused the most poignant grief and the liveliest anxiety to Bajazet. Hastily assembling his forces, he pushed rapidly forward to meet the enemy who had dealt him so cruel a blow. The hostile forces encountered each other near the town of Angora. The result of the desperate encounter that ensued was fatal to Bajazet; his army was cut to pieces and utterly annihilated, whilst he himself fell a prisoner into the hands of his foe. He remained in captivity, suffering the most cruel indignities, until his death, which occurred a few months later, and which was undoubtedly brought on by the keenness of his disappointment at the utter overthrow of all his projects.

The knights of Rhodes had now cause to lament the procipitancy with which the Greek Emperor had invoked the aid of so dangerous an ally. After having, by rapid advances, and with the able assistance of his lieutenants, secured to himself the full results of the successes he had gained, Timour turned his eyes in the direction of those European conquests which had so often excited the ambition of l3ajazet. His keen glance instantly perceived that the strongest bulwark of Christianity lie would have to overcome was that island fortress, the heights of which were crowned with ramparts, and defended by those well-known warriors of the Cross, the fame of whose deeds had penetrated even to the remotest borders of Asia. Before he could attempt to crush the parent establishment, he saw that it would be necessary to deal with the offshoot at Smyrna, and he therefore led his forces in that direction.

It is stated that his first summons merely required the form of planting his standard upon the citadel, and that William do Mine, the knight to whom the Grand-Master had confided the defence, rejected the offered compromise with scorn. Such a proposal sounds, under the circumstances of the case, most improbable; nor was it at all in accordance with the character of Timour. The real demand, probably, was surrender. We have an account of the capture of Smyrna from the pen of the Persian historian Sefet-el-din, who was a contemporary writer. he states that Timour sent an embassy thither offering the following conditions:—That the garrison and inhabitants should all embrace the Mahomet.an faith, in which case they were promised great advantages and good treatment; or, if they refused to abjure Christianity, that they should pay a suitable ransom. In either case, of course, they were to surrender the fortress. Failing the acceptance of one of these alternatives, they were all to be put to the sword. The historian records that, as they were predestined to perish, both promises and menaces were alike useless.

De Naillac had foreseen that whatever might be the issue of the struggle between Bajazet and Tamerlane, the victor would be sure to turn his arms against Smyrna. He had therefore taken every precaution for its defence. He appointed William de Mine, the grand-hospitaller, as its governor; a knight in whose dauntless courage and intelligent zeal he felt he could confide. He had also poured in large reinforcements both of men and munitions of war. The Persian historian says, on this head, that “the princes of Europe had sent there many brave Christian warriors; or, to speak more plainly, a baud of mad devils.” Everything, therefore, had been done to render the place as secure as its exposed position would permit.

Timour, finding his proposals rejected, gave instructions to his generals to commence the siege at once. Under their command, however, little or no progress was made. At length he himself arrived before the place on the 6th day of the month Djémazul-Evel, 80 (the 1st December, 1402). His first act was to summon the garrison to a prompt surrender. In order to secure the immediate submission of the fortresses he attacked in person Timour had adopted a system from which he never deviated. On the first day a white flag was hoisted over his pavilion: this signified that if the town surrendered on that day, the lives of its people would be spared, and the place itself preserved from pillage. On the second day a red flag was substituted: the conditions then were, the death of the governor and of the leading inhabitants, but still with security to the masses. Should this day pass without submission, on the third morning a black flag was seen waving; this was final, and from that moment the only hope of the garrison was a successful resistance, as the capture of the place was inevitably followed by the massacre of all the inhabitants, and. the town itself delivered over to pillage.

This last stage having been reached, the defenders of Smyrna knew their fate, and prepared manfully for resistance. Timour’s first attempt at an assault was frustrated by the knights with great slaughter. Pouring upon the assailants every species of missile which the art of war had in those days developed, including Greek fire, boiling oil, seething pitch, and other similar devices, they at length succeeded in driving the Tartars back in confusion to their camp. The bitter experience of this failure shewed Timour that he was now confronted by men against whom the dashing and off-hand measures he had so often successfully adopted would be unavailing. Bold and determined though the onset might be, he was met by a foe who could die, but would not yield, and against that living rampart of Christian warriors it was in vain that he hurled the choicest battalions in his vast army. Taught by this experience his fertile genius soon devised a. means for meeting his opponents upon a different footing.

He constructed numerous round wooden towers on rollers and of such dimensions as to contain 200 men within each. They were divided into three compartments, of which the centre one was on a level with the ramparts. The top floor was to be crowded with archers who could look down on the defenders, and pour a destructive fire on them at the moment of assault. In the centre floor a drawbridge was attached which when lowered would enable the assailants to reach the rampart. The lower compartment was filled with miners who were enabled to burrow their way into the heart of the walls, completely secure from any missiles. He at the same time constructed huge rafts, as described by the Persian historian, rising three feet above the level of the water. These were lashed together and projected from the shore on either side till they met in the centre, forming a roadway across the channel, and completely cutting off the fortress from all succour on the side of the sea. When these various works were completed, which with the huge force at his disposal did not take long to accomplish, the unfortunate knights felt that their doom was sealed.

Everything being now ready, Timour gave the signal for the onset, and the ponderous towers moved slowly towards the ramparts. Although a storm of rain poured in incessant torrents throughout the day, nothing checked the ardour of the assault. Sefet states that throughout the siege the rain fell without ceasing, and it seemed as though a new deluge had broken over the land. He also records, with a candour most praiseworthy on the part of an opponent, the extreme bravery of the defence. These are his words—”If the attack was vigorous the defence was not less firm, and no one was permitted a moment of repose. Although the battering rams and other machines dashing against the walls breached them even to their foundations, the defenders remained none the less bravely at their posts, hurling without cessation upon the enemy pots of Greek fire and naphtha, fiery wheels and huge stones.” Timour’s precautions had been so well taken that there was no possibility of failure. Whilst the defenders were gallantly struggling to resist the assailants emerging from the central compartments of Timour’s machines, those on the lower floor were able to prosecute their labours unrestrained. Ere long huge gaps appeared in the masonry of the ramparts, supported only by wooden props inserted for the purpose. These timbers were well saturated with naphtha, and then on a given signal ignited. As the flames devoured the wood the supports gave way, and a large mass of rampart fell with a crash to the ground. With shouts of exultation the enemy poured through the breach, and overcoming by their numbers every obstacle the defenders could put in their way, they succeeded in planting the banner of Islam over the conquered citadel.

Timour did not on this occasion depart from the practice he invariably pursued after the display of his black flag. A universal massacre of garrison and town speedily followed the termination of the conflict. A few of the inhabitants succeeded in forcing their way to the shore, whence by swimming they reached a vessel then cruising in the offing, but with the exception of these all fell beneath the sword. The Order of St. John had on that day to mourn the loss of every one of those brave brethren to whom it had confided the defence of Smyrna. The heads of the slain when decapitated were, in accordance with Timour’s usual custom, raised into a pyramid. On the day following the capture the fleet from Rhodes appeared in sight bearing reinforcements for the besieged. The Tartar caused his artillerists to hurl with their machines some of the heads of the slain at the advancing foe. They thus perceived that. they had arrived too late, and were compelled to return to Rhodes, bearing the melancholy intelligence of the loss of Smyrna, and the massacre of its heroic garrison.