Chapter I.
The Last Crusade
In the early hours of 28 May 1614, the defenders of Constantinople were roused from their beds by a tremendous salvo. Every siege piece in the camp of the Holy League fired as one, sending shot screaming against the battered walls of the city. As the echoes of the cannon faded away, new sounds arose from the siege lines. From the walls, it must have sounded like a disorganized roar as the battle cries of a dozen nations were bellowed out by forlorn hopes. These brave and desperate men emerged from the trenches and approached the four breaches that were the result of a month and a half of near constant bombardment.
The defenders rushed to take positions, grimly realizing that the dreaded final assault had arrived. Initially brave, as only men defending their homes could be, they responded to the battle cries of the Holy League with shouts of “
Allahu Akbar,” the war songs of the
mehterhane, and a volley of musket fire and cannon shot. They scythed through the charging men of the forlorn hopes, but the Christians did not falter; a second volley of musketry did little to slow them down. At point blank range, the Turks fired once again into the teeth of the attackers, but then they were upon them. The breaches rang with the music of the melee; blade clashing with blade, halberd crunching against skull, pistols fired at intimate range.
As the second waves from the trenches prepared to charge the walls, a cry of despair rang out from the walls. At the northernmost breach, the leader of the forlorn hope, Baron Richard Percy (son of the Earl of Northumberland) cut down the red and gold
zulfiqar banner and had his ensign unfurl the Banner of the Holy Wounds. This war flag had been blessed by the Archbishop of Canterbury himself, and it was a potent symbol for the British contingent of the Holy League. Although the ensign would fall and Baron Percy himself would be wounded in a subsequent countercharge, the banner remained. Soon, other Christian banners began to appear on the walls.
Panic set in amongst many of the defenders. The urban militia that had been organized to hold the line began to flee back to their homes, in hopes of finding their families. The
sekban threw down their muskets and made for the harbors, in hopes of finding a way across the Bosporus into friendlier Anatolia. Only the janissaries refused to retreat, determined to hold the city that they had won over 160 years before. One by one they fell, until even the men of the
mehterhane threw down their instruments, drew their swords, and charged. But their defiance was not enough; the attackers were too many and too determined.
The walls overcome, the soldiers of the Holy League descended upon the City of the World’s Desire. Inflamed by religious propaganda, grown callous by fourteen years of war, and driven by the lust for loot that rested at the heart of almost every soldier of the Early Modern period, the “hosts of Christendom” became little more than a ravening horde. Mosques and churches alike were ransacked, homes and shops pillaged. No matter their creed or heritage, the citizens of Constantinople were subject to all manner of atrocities. In spite of the efforts of the army’s commander, Archduke Ferdinand von Habsburg, to regain control of his forces, this went on unchecked for five days.
At the end of the sack, Archduke Ferdinand found himself in control of a devastated city. Modern population estimates of Constantinople before the sack, when including those who had fled the advance of the Holy League across eastern Thrace, are generally around 500,000; in the immediate aftermath of the sack, the population was likely reduced by a margin of 40-45%. The devastation of Constantinople would burn itself into memory across the Muslim world from Bengal to Rabat, adding to a long list of Christian atrocities against the
Umma. It would also prove to be a dark omen of violence yet to come in Europe.
Nevertheless, as Archduke Ferdinand held the first Christian mass in the Hagia Sophia since the destruction of the Eastern Roman Empire, the enormity of the devastation was put aside by many in Christendom. As news of the victory spread, church bells across Europe chimed the triumph and festivals, both spontaneous and planned, took place in celebration. Pope Gregory XIV was said to have been reduced to joyous tears upon hearing of the victory, and hoped to clear the conscience of the participants of the sack with the issuing of a Crusade indulgence. Emperor Leopold, according to the sources, gave a thin smile and immediately made plans to visit the recaptured city.
. . .
Ferdinand’s capture of Constantinople was the culmination of the Great Turkish War (1600-1614), the brainchild of Pope Gregory XIV and Emperor Leopold von Habsburg. The armies of the Holy League of 1599 had fought the Turk on fronts in the Caucasus, the Balkans, the Mediterranean Sea, the Persian Gulf, and the Horn of Africa. The Ottomans had fought bravely and skillfully under the leadership of Sultan Mehmed III, himself a veteran of several campaigns and considered by many in both the Islamic and Christian worlds to be a military genius. However, not even his leadership could make up the difference in numbers, with his armies spread thin and often under the command of less talented subordinates. While he prevented the easy victory that Emperor Leopold had hoped for, he was unable to successfully protect all his flanks at once.
By 1613, distracted by a revolt of
mamluk families in Egypt, an opportunistic invasion by Safavid Persia, and a devastating illness that left him almost completely bed-bound, Mehemd III was faced with the greatest challenge to Turkish supremacy in the Balkans yet- Archduke Ferdinand’s advance into Bulgaria. Leading a truly international force, Ferdinand had captured Sredets at the close of campaigning in 1612. Mehmed III was of the belief that Ferdinand would move south and west to support the Emperor’s bogged-down campaign in the Macedonian highlands. Instead, in April 1613 Ferdinand began a march southeast across Bulgaria. Twice he defeated Ottoman armies under Grand Vizier Turgut Pasha- first at Pazardzhik, then at Minzuhar.
Crossing the Maritsa after Turgut Pasha, Ferdinand invested Adrianople on 12 September 1613, expecting a long siege. To everyone’s surprise, however, less than a month later a mortar shell hit the city’s primary magazine, causing a massive explosion and forcing Turgut Pasha to surrender his beleaguered force on 9 October 1613. Deciding to settle in at Adrianople for the winter, Ferdinand unleashed the Cossacks, hussars, and other light cavalrymen of his force against eastern Thrace. The raiding, alongside the presence of a large “Crusader” force so close to Constantinople, caused a general panic in the Ottoman capital.
Seeking to salvage the disaster, Mehmed III resolved to lead his forces against Ferdinand personally. Still too weak to ride, the Sultan was carried on the campaign in a large horse-drawn wagon. Upon learning of Mehmed’s advance, the Archduke resolved to meet him in the field rather than face a siege. The two armies met on 3 March 1614 at Saranda Eklisies (also known as Lozengrad) in what authors have termed “the last great field battle of the Crusades.” The battle was close-run, until the Christian light cavalry struck the Ottoman camp and began to loot the baggage train. Misinterpreting this as a larger flank attack, panic set in amongst the Ottomans and a general rout began. Mehmed III, trapped in his carriage and abandoned by his guards, killed two cuirassiers who sought to capture him before being dispatched by a third with a pistol shot.
The death of Mehmed III and the collapse of his field army led to increased panic in Constantinople. His eldest son took control of the Sublime Porte as Mehmed IV, but his agents bungled the subsequent fratricide. Four of his brothers escaped the city and made it across the Bosporus, where they began to rally supporters of their own. Mehmed IV sent peace feelers to Ferdinand, offering to cede vast swathes of the Balkans, but the Archduke was in no mood to negotiate. According to one chronicler, Ferdinand “fell into fits of laughter” when presented with Mehmed IV’s terms. Realizing what was coming, Mehmed IV determined to defend his city, calling for reinforcements from Anatolia. Those reinforcements never came.
On 10 April 1614, Constantinople was officially invested, and subjected to siege and bombardment for the first time since 1453; the city fell a month and a half later. Mehmed IV did not live to see the final blow; he was strangled to death in his palace either shortly before or just after the breaches were secured on 28 May. Popular Christian legend claims that he was attempting to disguise himself in harem silks in order to avoid detection and was killed by a eunuch who failed to recognize him. That seems very unlikely for several reason, not the least of which being that disguising as a woman, especially a member of the Sultan’s legendary
seraglio, was not wise during a sack. Nevertheless, with his death the title of Ottoman Sultan and Caliph was fully taken up by his four surviving brothers, initiating the so-called “Turkish Anarchy.”
. . .
Three weeks after the “Liberation” of Constantinople, a galleon bearing the banner of Emperor Leopold arrived at the port of Constantinople. It approached carefully, as Turkish artillerymen on the other side of the Bosporus fired a few desultory cannon shots at it, but managed to arrive unscratched. In a grand ceremony, immortalized in a famed painting by Spanish artist Lorenzo de Figueredo, Ferdinand presented the keys of Constantinople to his brother and sovereign. Leopold accepted the gift, bestowing his brother with the title of
Restitutor Europae, a title inspired by one once born by the Emperor Aurelian. The ceremony complete, however, Leopold immediately began to list out his wants.
The first thing he wanted to do was see the Sultan’s body. Ferdinand sheepishly informed him that the request was not possible; Mehmed IV had been discovered during the height of the sack, and the soldiers had not been kind to him. By the time the body had been brought to him, it was missing seven fingers, three toes, most of its teeth, an eye, and both ears; his beard and hair had been torn out until there were only a few patches left; and, in a final indignity, the Sultan was missing something that the chroniclers at the time refused to name. Ferdinand, disgusted, ordered Mehmed IV buried in a nondescript mass grave.
Disappointed for only a moment, Leopold then indicated he wished to visit the Hagia Sophia. This request the Archduke could readily grant; the Imperial party moved through the devastated city to the sacred edifice. As the Emperor stared at the great church, Ferdinand began to describe the plans that were already underway to restore the icons and images within the cathedral. Leopold listened to these plans for a while, but then interrupted by nodding at the minarets that reared up around the church.
“I want those gone. Today,” he said. Ferdinand, who was apparently caught off guard by this request, replied that there were plans to dismantle the “heathen additions” over the next month or so. Leopold shook his head.
“Today.”
Thus ordered, the Archduke turned to the engineers who had helped him invest and seize the city. Within a few hours, the minarets were packed with several hundred pounds of gunpowder and the Imperial party had withdrawn to a safe distance. At a signal from Leopold, the fuses were lit and a few moments later four great explosions rocked the ground. Horses stirred and whinnied in fright and men gripped their ears and cried out from the deafening blasts. The four minarets collapsed in on themselves and became little more than piles of rubble. The official chronicler recorded that “a great sigh of relief arose from those assembled.” According to popular legend, Leopold, with a satisfied look on his face, stated “
Ultio Constantini absolvitur.”
“Constantine’s revenge is completed.”
. . .
As the smoke still rose from the broken minarets, the Great Turkish War began to come to its slow conclusion. Rüstem Pasha, commander of Ottoman armies in Macedonia and Greece, was beleaguered on the north by Holy League forces and on the south by Greek rebels backed by Venice. Recognizing he was trapped, and desiring to influence proceedings in the coming civil conflict, Rüstem Pasha negotiated a carefully worded surrender with the Holy League commander on the field, Spaniard Ladron de Cantlapiedra on 8 July 1614. De Cantlapiedra agreed to ferry Rüstem Pasha and his forces across the Aegean to Yoran, in exchange for an agreement to never take up arms against Christians again. This agreement enabled Rüstem Pasha to arrive in Anatolia with a sizeable and veteran force, while also ending the “official” presence of Ottoman forces in the Balkans.
In the Crimea, Polish-Lithuanian, Cossack, and Russian forces had forced the Crimean Khan to retreat to his fortress capital, where he received news of the fall of Constantinople with suspicion. Khan Bahadir Giray believed it to be a trick meant to demoralize his forces, and refused peace entreaties from the besiegers. His stubborn resistance forced the costly Storm of Bakhchisarai on 10 July 1614, ending the Crimean Khanate’s long presence on the Black Sea. The Turkish garrison at Azov, on the other hand, freely entered into negotiations with the Holy League, managing to depart for friendly ports two days later on 12 July 1614.
The final shots of the Great Turkish War in the Mediterranean would take place in Algiers, where a garrison of Spaniards, Knights of Saint John, and Portuguese under Marshal Harloynus de Tremaux had been under siege by an Ottoman detachment and local Islamic allies since 1610. Thanks to resupply via the sea, the garrison had held out and defeated every attempt to take the city by storm. On 30 August 1614, de Tremaux led a sortie against the enemy siege camps and smashed the demoralized and underpaid Ottoman force, giving the city breathing room for the first time in four years.
However, the dignity of the final engagement of the Great Turkish War belonged to a daring raid carried out by Aziz Ziyauddin Bey in East Africa. Commanding a small flotilla of galleys, he surprised the Portuguese galleon
Santa Isabel sailing out of Mombassa on 10 October 1614, seizing the vessel and its crew. Ziyauddin Bey, who had been at sea for six months at the time of the capture of the
Santa Isabel, arrived at the port of Aden with his prize on 20 November 1614, where he learned of the loss of Constantinople for the first time. In anger for the devastation done by the Holy League during the sack, he massacred his prisoners, only to be taken by authorities in Aden and executed for suspicions of supporting the wrong Sultan in the Anarchy.
The unfortunate crew of the
Santa Isabel are treated by most historians as the last victims of the Great Turkish War. Although sporadic violence would continue on the high seas and frontiers for decades, these are considered separate actions, not driven by Ottoman war policy. For most historians as well, the crew of the
Santa Isabel are viewed as the last victims of the Crusades; after the Great Turkish War, future conflicts between Muslim and Christian powers would be driven less by the dictates of Rome and more by the policies of individual nations.
While undeniably a victory for the Holy League, after the celebrations were completed, Christendom was faced with a burning question:
What now?
Habsburg Ottoman policy for well over a century had been focused on containing and rolling back Islamic Turkish influence in Europe through a Pan-European coalition. Some historians (referred to as the Coalitionists) believe that this desire was the driving force behind Habsburg European policy in the 16th Century. This was why the Habsburgs had backed the House of Bourbon-Montpensier, why they had enforced the Interim on the Protestant Princes, why they had pursued the English Match, why they had contested the Polish claim and become entangled in the intricate politics of the Russian Tsardom- to create a Europe that was (mostly) religiously unified and (mostly) under friendly dynasts. This would allow them to focus their attention on the Turkish front, while not having to worry about their European flanks.
As evidenced by the Great Turkish War, this policy worked. But without the looming threat of the Great Turk to focus on, what could possibly keep the Holy League united? Was the
Pax Habsburgica sustainable?
Events would prove that it was not.
For all their hopes of ending conflict in Europe with the recapture of Constantinople, Habsburg policies unwittingly laid the groundwork for the violence and devastation of the 1600s.
