CHAPTER VII.
The Christian host prolonged the festival of the Nativity from day today, until the mustering forces of the Ottomans summoned them fromdangerous inactivity again to the march and the battle. The latterthey found at Mount Cunobizza, where the enemy had massed an enormousforce. The Christian army, with its splendid corps of Hungary, Poland,Bosnia, Servia, Wallachia, Italy and Germany, was not a moremagnificent array than that of their Moslem opponents. For the mostpart of the day the field was equally held, but in the afternoon theTurkish left seemed to have become inspired with a strange fury. TheJanizaries, at the time renowned as the best disciplined and mostdesperate foot-soldiers in the world, were rivalled in celerity andintrepidity, in skilful manoeuvring and the tremendous momentumwith which they struck the foe, by other Moslem corps; such as thesquadrons of cavalry collected from distant military provinces, eachunder its Spahi or fief-holder; and the irregular Bashi-Bazouks, whoseemed to have sprung from the ground in orderly array. Their diverseaccoutrements, complexions, and movements suggested the hundred armsof some martial Briareus, all animated by a single brain. The war cryof "The Prophet!" was mingled with that of "Iscanderbeg!" In thethickest of the fight appeared the gigantic form of the circumcisedAlbanian, his gaudy armor flashing with jewels,[17] his right armbared to the shoulder, his cimeter glancing as the lightning. TheItalian legions opposite him, upon the Christian left, were hurledback again and again from their onslaught, and were pressed mile aftermile from the original battle site. Hunyades inflicted a compensatorypunishment upon the Moslem left, shattering its depleted ranks as abattering ram crashes through the tottering walls of a citadel. Thechief of the Christians saw clearly Scanderbeg's plan[18] to leave thevictory in his hands, and at the opportune moment he wheeled hissquadrons to the assistance of King Vladislaus, thus combining inoverwhelming odds against the enemy's centre, which Scanderbeg hadeffectually drained of its proper strength. As soon, however, as itwas evident that the Christians were the victors, Scanderbeg, bysuperb generalship, interposed the Janizaries between the enemy andthe turbaned heads that, but for this, were being whirled in fullflight from the field. The rout was changed into orderly retreat.Hunyades found it impossible to press the pursuit, and muttered,
"Scanderbeg commands both our armies to-day. We can only take what heis minded to give."
At length night looked down upon the camps. Few tents were erected.Hunyades sat for hours beneath a tree, waiting for he knew not whatdevelopments. On the Turkish side even the Beyler Beys, the highestcommanders, were content to stretch their limbs with no other canopythan the three horse-tails at the spear-head, the symbol of their rankand authority. Far in the rear were the few pavilions of the suite ofthe Grand Vizier, who represented the absent Sultan Amurath. Late intothe night the Vizier sat in counsel with the Sultan's Reis Effendi orchief secretary, to whom was entrusted the seal of the empire. He wasenstamping the many despatches which fleetest horsemen carried todistant Spahis, summoning them with their reserves to rally for thedefence of Adrianople.
Just before the dawn the secretary was left alone. Even he, and, inhis person, the empire, must catch an hour's sleep before the excitingand exacting duties of the new day. He reclined among his papers. Buta summons awakened him: the messenger announcing Scanderbeg. Theguards withdrew to a respectful distance from the outside of the tent.
"Do not rise," said the general, gently pressing the secretary back tohis reclining posture. "I only need the imperial seal to this order."
The secretary scanned the paper with incredulous eyes. It was afirman, or decree of the Sultan, passing the government of Albaniafrom General Sebaly to Scanderbeg, with absolute powers, and orderingthe commandant of the strong fortress of Croia to place all itsarmament and that of adjacent strongholds in Scanderbeg's hand as theviceroy of the Sultan. As the secretary lifted his face to utter aninquiry for the relief of his amazement, knowing that the Sultan, thenabsent in Asia, could not have ordered such a document, the stronghand of Scanderbeg gripped his throat, and his poniard threatened hisheart.
"The mark!" whispered the assailant.
The terrified man tremblingly reached the seal, and pressed it againstthe wax. The weapon then did its work, and so suddenly that thesecretary had no time for even an outcry. Then silently, so that theguards, who were but a few paces distant, heard no commotion, he laidthe lifeless form on the divan, and covered it with the embroideredcloak it had worn when living.[19]
Passing out, Scanderbeg gave orders that the tent should not beentered by the guards until morning, that the secretary might rest. Hegave the password, "The Kaaba," as sharply as if his lips would takevengeance on the once sacred, but now hated sound. His military staffjoined him at a little distance. Vaulting into the saddle he led theway toward the north. At the edge of the camp by a rude bridge hehalted, and said to his attendants,
"I meet at this point the Beyler Bey of Anatolia, whose staff will bemy escort to his camp. The Padishah's cause needs closest conferenceof all the commanders; for treason is abroad. Ah! I hear the escort.Return to quarters, gentlemen!"
Riding forward alone in the direction of the noise, he cried, "Whocomes?"
"The Kaaba at Mecca," was the response.
"Well, if the Kaaba takes the trouble to come to me it is a good omen,by the beard of Moses!"
"By the beard of Moses!" murmured a group of horsemen, bowing theirturbaned heads in the first gray light of the approaching day. Thecavalcade closed around the fugitive chieftain, and moved along insilence, except to respond to the sentinels. As they passed theextreme picket of the Turks they halted. A wardrobe had been secretedin a cave beyond a copse near the road. Dismounting, the men exchangedtheir turbans for caps of wolf or beaver skin. Their gaily trimmedjackets, such as were worn by the Turkish foot-soldiers, gave place toshort fur sacks. Their flowing, bag-bottomed trousers were kicked off,leaving abbreviated breeches of leather. In a few moments thesplendidly uniformed suite of a Moslem bey was transformed into arough, but exceedingly unique-looking, band of Albanian guerillas.Scanderbeg assumed a helmet, the summit of which carried as a devicethe head and shoulders of a goat--since the times of Alexander theGreat the symbol of the powers in, or bordering upon, Macedonia. TheTurkish uniforms were bundled upon the cruppers for future use.
The men stood for a moment, each by the side of his horse. At a motionof the officer in charge they gave the salute; touching their baredforeheads, and bowing to the ground. The officer then approachedScanderbeg, and, presenting his sword, said:
"Sire! to thee, as the son of our Duke John, we give our swordstogether with our hearts and our lives." Instantly every sword waslaid upon the ground; and the crisp air rattled with the cry, "Longlive Duke George! A Castriot forever!"
Scanderbeg gazed silently for a moment upon the faithful group. Therewas no doubt of their loyalty: for they had proved it by an adventureof rare daring in penetrating the Turkish camp. The face of the greatgeneral, usually masking so completely his strongest feelings, lostnow its rigidity. His eyes were moist; his lips trembled; everylineament was eloquent with the emotion he could neither conceal nortell in words. After a few moments' impressive silence, he returnedthe sword to the officer, and, pointing westward, cried,
"Forward to Albania!"
FOOTNOTES:
[17] The old chronicles admit, as one weakness of Scanderbeg, afondness for personal decoration.
[18] The author adds these lines to the meagre details of this battleas known, for the purpose of accounting for its immediate issue, andfor the subsequent events.
[19] Some historians represent Scanderbeg as having had Albanianaccomplices in this murder.