Constantinopolis (19 page)

“So you are saying they might be willing to just walk away?” asked Constantine.

“Correct, assuming there is enough pressure on Mehmet. There is even some talk of replacing him if they do push the point and he won’t agree. You have to remember, he’s still a kid as far as Halil and the rest perceive him. A petulant kid at that. But they also have to be careful and then swiftly decisive. Technically, he is all powerful. He certainly could order any one of them killed and the order would probably be carried out before anyone could stop him.”

“Where are you hearing all of this?” asked Notaras.

“I would rather not say, as I do not want our spy to be compromised.”

“Sphrantzes, who is going to say something? Would it be me or Constantine? We’re not at a supreme council here.”

Sphrantzes hesitated and looked to Constantine. The Emperor nodded.

“Halil.”

“What?” demanded Constantine. “The Grand Vizier told you this? Why would he tell you or any Greek anything?”

“A couple reasons I think. First, he believes that capturing Constantinople will be a lightning rod that will bring all of the West against them. He wants to avoid that at all cost. Second, he cannot stand Mehmet. You will remember he was instrumental in removing Mehmet from power before. Third, he is in our pay.”

“He is accepting bribes?”

“Yes he is, and it is not the first time. Apparently he accepted gifts from the previous Emperor as well.”

“I have a hard time believing this,” said Notaras.

“It is true. And he is reaching out to us again for assistance. He has a request.”

“What request?”

“He is asking that we renew our offer to increase tribute in exchange for the Ottomans lifting the siege. He believes that given the recent failures, he should have enough power to pressure Mehmet to lift the siege.”

“We already made that offer, and it was rejected.”

“Yes my Lord, but now Mehmet has experienced several failures. I think he believed the city would fall very quickly. Now is the time to renew the offer, and see what happens.”

“Notaras, what do you think?”

“Well my Lord, I have some serious reservations about the source and quality of Sphrantze’s information. As you know, I do not like these secrets and spies.” Sphrantzes was about to interrupt him but Notaras raised his hand. “However, I do not see any harm in renewing the offer. If Mehmet declines then at the worst, he has said “no” twice to the same thing. If he accepts, then they will leave the city. And who knows, perhaps Halil would be able to remove Mehmet. It is really a free opportunity to see what happens.”

“We are in rare agreement Notaras, even if I do not agree at all with the way you approach the problem.”

Constantine looked at his two friends for a few moments. “It is settled then, we will renew our previous offer and see what ultimately comes of it. I agree that there can hardly be a negative effect. Any other updates Sphrantzes?”

“We haven’t heard anything from the Pope yet, or from the Georgians. I believe we would have heard back if the Turks had sunk our ship sent to Georgia. It is always possible I suppose that it was sunk in the Black Sea away from land, but that is somewhat unlikely as we can maneuver more effectively with wind power, which allows for speed and maneuverability in open water. If all went well, our ambassador should be there and hopefully on the way back by now.”

“Nothing back from the Pope? How frustrating. I had hoped we would have a relief fleet by now. Still, I can only assume it is a matter of days before we receive at least a vanguard fleet. It would be nice to hear from Gregory as well about Hunyadi. I wonder if the Pope sent him a message as I requested? We wait on those issues. Perhaps we will not have to worry about it at all. Perhaps this peace gesture will end our problems. Tell me Sphrantzes, and I apologize for returning to an earlier issue, but is there any possibility that we could simply wait a little longer, and not increase our tribute? We can scarcely afford an increase.”

“My Lord, I think we have to take the option of making an offer. Halil has directly requested our assistance. It is likely he would be instrumental in any future regime, it is even possible he could replace Mehmet himself. We need to look to future cooperation as well as short term strategy.”

“All right, Sphrantzes, send the message. This is under the same terms as before. Let us see whether our young cub has bitten off more than he can chew.”

WEDNESDAY APRIL 18, 1453

Mehmet watched the darkness fall and his men stumbling back from the land walls, exhausted, many of them wounded. He could see the frustration in their faces. He felt the same. They had been so close! The walls had shattered under the first few cannon volleys. When the giant cannon blew a breach in the outer wall he thought the city was his. He immediately ordered his Janissaries into the breach, to battle through and take the city. He watched, expecting his forces to stream through the hole. Instead, he watched hours of log-jammed pushing at the breach. The bodies piled up, and his elite forces made no real progress. As darkness approached they began losing momentum and he was finally forced to order a retreat.

Was he cursed? This was to be his moment. But like so many “almost” moments, his men failed him. They had failed at the sea wall, failed in the initial cannon volley on April 6, and had failed him now in this critical attack.

Perhaps he should kill some of the attackers as a lesson for the rest? No, what could it prove? He had watched the attack. The men had fought as courageously and aggressively as was possible. The breach was simply too small, and apparently the Greeks on the other side had fought even more desperately than his own men. He needed a bigger breach, or multiple breaches.

He had been unlucky. Life at times depended on good or ill fortune. Unfortunately he had no time for luck. He had gambled everything on this venture. His council had reluctantly approved it, but he knew he had pushed it through, far earlier than anyone advised. He needed results and he needed them now, before Halil could rally his enemies against him.

Zaganos was back with him. The Sultan had called him over at the moment of the first breach, not to lead an attack but to watch his moment of triumph. Halil had appeared as well, and looked dejected at first, until it became obvious the attack would fail. Now all three stood together, watching the retreat.

“A noble attempt my Lord,” said Halil. “Surely we will succeed next time.”

Zaganos added, “I agree my Sultan. It was but a moment’s fortune that the Greeks have held out this time. The cannon will make other breaches, and we will battle through. Perhaps we should wait next time for a bigger breach?”

“Yes. Next time we will succeed,” said Mehmet, not really sure he felt that way. “I agree that we will need a bigger breach. All of our advantages are taken away by a small hole in the walls. The Greeks are able to bring equal numbers and to fight us to a standstill. I also suspect we will wake up tomorrow and find the breach has been repaired. I understand that this Giovanni Longo who leads the Greek forces has substantial experience in siege warfare.”

“Yes, bad luck he arrived so shortly before the siege,” said Zaganos.

“Well let us not dwell too deeply on a minor setback. Let us have our evening meal and talk about the future.”

The men followed the Sultan into his tent and they were soon dining on a rich variety of food and drink. Mehmet had spared no comfort in his tent and had assured that a steady supply of food was brought from Edirne both for his troops and for himself. They enjoyed their meal and then stayed up late into the night, discussing the strategy of the siege and also the past and future of the Ottoman people. Mehmet noticed Halil would not speak about the future in any detail. He smiled to himself. There is no sense dwelling too much on the future is there my friend? Neither of us intends to share it with the other. So be it. You can serve my father again in paradise, since you will not serve me in this world.

In the early morning a messenger disturbed them and handed Halil a note. The Grand Vizier read it.

“Well this is very interesting news my Lord.”

“What is?”

“I have received a letter from Constantine. He offers the same terms he offered on the first day of the siege. He will double his tribute to you if you lift the siege.”

Mehmet was incensed. He did not need additional pressure. “Bah,” he said, “They offer the same terms after we almost take the city. He is afraid. He should be begging me for any terms of mercy and handing the city to me now. He knows it is just a matter of days.”

“With all respect my Lord, I would beg you to consider the offer more closely. You were brilliant to have developed your navy and also these cannon before the siege. But again, we find Constantinople somehow escapes us. The Greeks block us at sea with the sea chain. Your cannon have shown some benefit but they have not opened up a useable breach. Your men must be exhausted and frustrated by the attack today. I certainly would not say that we are in a position where we
must
lift the siege now, but if another month goes by with no additional progress, the men will grow very restless. If we are forced to lift the siege you certainly will get no more money from Constantine. Instead he will cut off all tribute. He will have defied you and in defying you he will have won sympathy with the west. We know he already agreed to their ridiculous church union, as if one infidel’s church is better than another. Their differences may seem silly and incomprehensible to us, but apparently the Pope is very impressed with their decision to implement this Union. We could face considerable forces from the West, even from Hungary, in just a few short months.”

Mehmet had expected this argument. “I am not surprised to hear this from you. But again, I disagree. There is no point in putting our attack off for another season. We do not need the money from the Greeks. There is far more wealth available by taking and rebuilding the city. We can then regulate the trade from the Black Sea and we will be in even a better position to deal with the Venetians, Genoans, and the rest. The key argument is aid from the West. I do not think any measureable aid can come in time. Our cannon will blow another hole or two in the walls tomorrow. When they do, we will rush in and take the city.”

He realized he should placate Halil somewhat, and stall for time. “I will hold off on any decision for a few days, and see what our progress is. Hopefully, by the end of the day tomorrow, the city will be ours and our problems will be solved.”

Halil was pleased with the decision. “Thank you my Lord, I think you should carefully consider the offer and I agree another day or two should make no difference. I sincerely hope you are successful in taking the city before we have to respond to Constantine.”

No you do not, thought Mehmet. You want me to fail. Beyond that, you know what will happen if I succeed. You are positioning yourself to destroy me, now that you know I cannot be led. Mehmet felt grim satisfaction that he understood Halil so well but also a nagging disappointment he had felt many times in the past and could never force himself to subdue. There was a part of himself that yearned for Halil’s acceptance. Why would the Grand Vizier not respect him and follow his commands? Must it always be the disappointed Halil, sitting back disapprovingly and waiting for his moment to intervene? He hated Halil deeply. Hated himself for needing his approval. When Halil’s head sat on a pole on the palace walls, he would think of him no more, he promised himself. For now he needed to deal with his Grand Vizier as best as he was able.

“What do you think Zaganos?”

“I think you have a wise plan my Lord,” said Zaganos. “With Allah’s will we will break through the city today or tomorrow. If not, we will consider the terms again.”

Mehmet was satisfied. He dismissed them and took a few short hours of sleep. In the mid-morning he arose and ordered a renewal of the bombardment. He noted that Constantine had succeeded in rebuilding portions of the wall overnight, which he knew would happen although he was surprised by the extent of the repairs. This bastard Giovanni truly was a misfortune on his plans. He must keep the Genoan busy.

Mehmet’s cannon kept up a continuous attack on the walls for the rest of the day, but while it caused cracks and chips all along the outer wall for several hundred yards on either side of the Sultan’s command tent, the cannon failed to significantly breach the walls again as it had done so spectacularly the day before.

Mehmet met with Orban at the end of the day, and ordered that the cannon fire be concentrated on a small area of the land wall the next day. He hoped by firing all of the cannon simultaneously at a small portion of the wall, he would force a more significant breach. He also ordered his Janissaries to form at dawn and prepare to storm the city. He then fell into a restless sleep.

He was awakened at dawn but not by cannon fire. A frantic messenger begged permission to enter. Mehmet beckoned him inside and opened the message. A hastily scrawled note from Zaganos informed him that ships had arrived in the Sea of Marmara and were heading toward the Golden Horn. A relief fleet from the West.

FRIDAY, APRIL 20, 1453

Mehmet rushed out of bed. He ordered the messenger out of his tent. He felt shaken, dizzy. Was he to lose everything after all of his plans? He had worked so hard and he had nearly taken the city only two days before. Now he faced a relief fleet that could be bringing supplies, food and thousands of men to defend the city. He finished dressing and quickly left his tent. His guards were already mounted and his horse had been saddled. He mounted and took off at a gallop toward Galata.

He arrived on the Bosporus shore several hours later. Zaganos was anxiously waiting for him. Mehmet looked out past the Galata walls and in to the Sea of Marmara. He strained his eyes to see at first but eventually could make out a few masts in the distance. Much more closely, he saw ships of his fleet sailing out of the Bosporus to intercept the enemy fleet. He was relieved to see that the number of enemy ships seemed small, only three or four that he could make out.