Voltaire's history of Charles XII, king of Sweden · Voltaire
BOOK VI
The King stopped him and told him he would excuse him to the Sultan. “Ah!” replied the Turk, “my master can punish mistakes, but not excuse them.” Ishmael Pasha went to tell the news to the Kan of Tartary. The Kan, having received the same order as the Pasha, not to let the 1,200 purses be delivered before the King’s departure, and having agreed to their delivery, was as apprehensive of the Sultan’s resentment as the Pasha himself. They both wrote to the Porte to clear themselves, and explained that they had only parted with the 1,200 purses on a solemn promise made by the King’s minister that they would go at once, and they entreated his Highness not to attribute the King’s refusal to their disobedience. Charles, quite convinced that the Kan and the Pasha intended to hand him over to his enemies, ordered M. Funk, his envoy at the Ottoman Court, to lay his complaints against them before the Sultan and to ask for 1,000 purses more. His great generosity, and his indifference to money, hindered him from seeing the baseness of this proposal. He only did it to get a refusal so that then he might have a fresh pretext for failing to depart; but a man must be reduced to great straits when he has recourse to such tricks. Savari, his interpreter, a crafty and enterprising character, carried the letter to Adrianople in spite of the Grand Vizir’s care to have the roads guarded. Funk was forced to go and deliver this dangerous message, and all the answer he got was imprisonment.
Thoroughly angry, the Sultan called an extraordinary Divan and made a speech at it himself. His speech, according to the translation then made of it, was as follows-- “I hardly knew the King of Sweden, but from his defeat at Pultawa and the request he made to me to grant him sanctuary in my empire. I am under no obligation to him, nor have I any reason either to love or fear him; yet, thinking only of the hospitality of a Mussulman and my own generosity, which sheds the dew of its favour on small and great alike, I received and aided him, his ministers, officers and soldiers, in every respect, and for three years and a half have continually loaded him with presents. “I have granted him a considerable guard to take him to his own country. He has asked for 1,000 purses to defray expenses, though I am paying them all, and instead of 1,000 I have granted him 1,200. After getting these from the serasquier of Bender he wants 1,000 more, and refuses to go under the pretext that the guard is too small, whereas it is too large to pass through the country of a friend and ally. I ask you, then, is it any breach of the laws of hospitality to send this prince away, and whether foreign princes would have any ground for accusing me of cruelty and injustice if I used force to make him go?”
All the Divan answered that the Sultan might lawfully do as he said. The Mufti declared that Mussulmans are not bound to offer hospitality to infidels, much less to the ungrateful, and he granted his festa, a kind of mandate, which generally accompanies the Sultan’s important orders. These festas are revered as oracles, though the persons who issue them are as much the Sultan’s slaves as any others. The order and the festa were taken to Bender by the Master of the Horse and the first Usher. The Pasha of Bender received the order at the Kan’s, whence he went at once to the Varnitsa to ask if the King would go away in a friendly way, or would force him to carry out the Sultan’s orders. Charles XII, not being used to this threatening language, could not command his temper. “Obey your master if you dare,” he said, “and begone.” The Pasha in indignation set off at a gallop, an unusual thing with a Turk. On the return journey he met M. Fabricius, and called out to him without stopping, “The King won’t listen to reason; you’ll see strange doings presently.” The same day he cut off the King’s supplies and removed the guard of janissaries. He also sent to the Poles and Cossacks to let them know that if they wanted to get any provisions they must leave the King of Sweden’s camp and come and put themselves under the protection of the Porte at Bender.
They all obeyed and left the King, with only the officers of his household and 300 Swedes, to cope with 2,000 Tartars and 6,000 Turks. There was now no more provision in the camp for man or beast. The King at once gave orders that the twenty fine Arabian horses they had given him should be shot, saying, “I will have neither their food nor their horses.” This made a great feast for the Tartars, who, as every one knows, think that horse-flesh is delicious. In the meantime the Turks and Tartars invested the little camp on all sides. The King, with no signs of panic, appointed his 300 Swedes to make regular fortifications, and worked at them himself. His chancellor, treasurer, secretaries, valets, and all his servants, lent a hand to the work. Some barricaded the windows, others took the bars behind the doors and placed them like buttresses. When the house was well barricaded, and the King had reviewed his pretences at fortifications, he began to play chess unconcernedly with his favourite Grothusen, as if everything had been perfectly safe and secure. It happened very luckily that Fabricius, the envoy of Holstein, did not lodge at Varnitsa, but at a small village between Varnitsa and Bender, where Mr. Jeffreys, the English envoy to the King of Sweden, lived also. These two ministers, seeing that the storm was about to break, undertook to mediate between the Turks and the King. The Kan, and especially the Pasha of Bender, who had no intention of hurting the monarch, were glad of the offers of their services. They had two conferences together at Bender, at which the Usher of the seraglio, and the Grand Master of the Horse, who had brought the order from the Sultan, were present.
M. Fabricius owned to them that the Swedish King had good reason to believe that they intended to give him up to his enemies in Poland. The Kan, the Pasha, and the rest, swore on their heads, calling God to witness, that they detested the thought of such a horrible piece of treachery, and would shed the last drop of their blood rather than show the least lack of respect to the King in Poland. They added that they had the Russian and Polish ambassadors in their power, and that their lives should answer for the least affront offered to the King of Sweden. In a word, they complained bitterly of the outrageous suspicions which the King was harbouring about people who had received and treated him so well. And though oaths are often the language of treachery, M. Fabricius allowed himself to be persuaded by these barbarians. He thought he saw that air of truth in their protests which falsehood imitates but lamely; he knew that there was a secret correspondence between the Tartar Kan and Augustus, but he remained convinced that the object of this negotiation was only to force Charles to retire from the territories of the Sultan. But whether Fabricius was mistaken or not he assured them that he would represent to the King the unreasonableness of his jealousies. “But do you intend to force him to go?” he added. “Yes,” answered the Pasha, “such are our master’s orders.” Then he desired them to consider again whether that order was to spill the blood of a crowned head. “Yes,” answered the Kan with warmth, “if that head disobeys the Sultan in his own dominions.”
In the meantime everything was ready for the assault, and Charles’s death seemed inevitable; but as the Sultan’s command was not positively to kill him in case of resistance, the Pasha prevailed on the Kan to send a messenger that moment to Adrianople, to receive his Highness’s final orders. Mr. Jeffreys and M. Fabricius, having got this respite, hurried to acquaint the King with it. They hastened like bearers of good news, and were received very coldly; he called them forward, meddling mediators, and still insisted that the Sultan’s order and the Mufti’s festa were forged, because they had sent for fresh orders to the Porte. The English minister withdrew, resolving to trouble himself no further with the affairs of so obstinate a prince. M. Fabricius, a favourite of the King, and more accustomed to his whims than the English minister, stayed with him, to exhort him not to risk so valuable a life on so futile an occasion. The only reply the King made was to show him his fortifications and to beg him to mediate so far as to obtain provisions for him. Leave was easily obtained from the Turks to let provisions pass into the King’s camp till the couriers should return from Adrianople. The Kan himself had forbidden the Tartars to make any attempt on the Swedes till a new order came; so that Charles went out of his camp sometimes with forty horse, and rode through the midst of the Tartar troops, who respectfully left him a free passage; he even marched right up to their lines, and they did not resist, but opened to him.
At last the Sultan’s order arrived with command to put to the sword all the Swedes who made the least resistance, and not to spare the King’s life; the Pasha had the civility to show the order to M. Fabricius, that he might make a last effort with Charles. Fabricius went at once to tell him his bad news. “Have you seen the order you refer to?” said the King. “I have,” replied Fabricius. “Tell them,” said the King, “from me that this order is a second forgery of theirs, and that I will not go.” Fabricius fell at his feet in a transport of rage, and scolded him for his obstinacy. “Go back to your Turks,” said the King, smiling at him; “if they attack me, I know how to defend myself.” The King’s chaplains also fell on their knees before him, beseeching him not to expose the wretched remnant over from Pultawa, and above all, his own sacred person, to death; adding, besides, that resistance in this case was a most unwarrantable deed, and that it was a violation of the laws of hospitality to resolve to stay against their will with strangers who had so long and generously supported him. The King, who had showed no resentment with Fabricius, became angry on this occasion, and told his priests that he employed them to pray for him, and not to give him advice.
General Hoord and General Dardoff, who had always been against venturing a battle which in the result must prove fatal, showed the King their breasts, covered with wounds received in his service, and assured him that they were ready to die for him, and begged him that it might be on a more worthy occasion. “I know,” said the King, “by my wounds and yours that we have fought valiantly together. You have hitherto done your duty; do it again now.” The only thing remaining was to obey; they were all ashamed not to seek death with their King. He prepared for the assault, secretly gloating over the pleasure and honour of resisting with 300 Swedes the efforts of a whole army. He gave every man his place; his chancellor, Mullern, his secretary, Empreus, and the clerks were to defend the Chancery house; Baron Fief, at the head of the officers of the kitchen, was to defend another post; the grooms of the stables and the cooks had another place to guard, for with him every man was a soldier. He rode from his fortifications to his house, promising rewards to every one, creating officers, and declaring that he would make his humblest servant captain if he behaved with valour in the engagement.
It was not long before they saw the Turks and Tartars advancing to attack the little fortress with ten cannon and two mortars. The horse-tails waved in the air, the clarions brayed, and cries of “Alla, Alla,” were heard on all sides. Baron Grothusen remarked that they were not abusing the King as they shouted, but only calling him “demirbash,” _i.e._ iron-head; so he resolved to go alone and unarmed out of the fort. He advanced to the line of the janissaries, who had almost all of them received money from him. “What, my friends,” he said in their own language, “have you come to massacre 300 defenceless Swedes? You brave janissaries, who have pardoned 100,000 Russians, when they cried Amman (pardon) to you, have you forgotten the kindness you have received at our hands? And would you assassinate the King of Sweden whom you loved so much, and who has been so generous to you? My friends, he asks only three days, and the Sultan’s orders are not so strict as they would make you believe.” These words had an effect which Grothusen himself had not expected; the janissaries swore on their beards that they would not attack the King, and would give him the three days that he demanded. In vain was the signal given for assault. The janissaries, far from obeying, threatened to turn their arms against their leaders if three days were not granted to the King of Sweden. They came to the Pasha of Bender’s tent in a band, crying that the Sultan’s orders were forged. To this sedition the Pasha could oppose nothing but patience.
He pretended to be pleased with the generous resolve of the janissaries, and ordered them to retreat to Bender. The Kan of Tartary, who was a passionate man, would have made the assault at once with his own troops; but the Pasha, who would not allow the Tartars alone to have the honour of taking the King while he might perhaps be punished for the disobedience of his janissaries, persuaded the Kan to wait till next day. The Pasha returning to Bender, assembled all the officers of the janissaries, and the older soldiers; he read them and showed them the positive command of the Sultan, and the mandate of the Mufti. Sixty of the oldest of them, with venerable grey beards, who had received innumerable presents from the King, proposed to go to him in person, and entreat him to put himself into their hands, and permit them to serve him as guards. The Pasha consented; for there was no stone he would leave unturned rather than be forced to kill the King. So these sixty old soldiers went next morning to Varnitsa, having nothing in their hands but long white staves, their only weapon when they intend not to fight; for the Turks consider it a barbarous custom of the Christians to wear swords in time of peace, and to go armed to the churches or the houses of friends.
They addressed themselves to Baron Grothusen and Chancellor Mullern; they told them that they had come with the intention of serving as faithful guards to the King, and that if he pleased they would conduct him to Adrianople, where he might speak to the Sultan in person. While they were making the proposal the King read the letters that had come from Constantinople and that Fabricius, who could not see him again, had sent to him privately by a janissary. These letters were from Count Poniatowski, who could neither serve him at Bender nor at Adrianople, having been detained at Constantinople by the Czar’s order, from the time of the imprudent demand of 1,000 purses. He told the King that the Sultan’s order to seize his royal person was only too true, that the Sultan was indeed imposed upon by his ministers; but that the more he was imposed upon in the matter the more he would be obeyed, that he must submit to the times and yield to necessity, and that he took the liberty of advising him to attempt all that was possible in the way of negotiation with the ministers, not to be inflexible in a case where the gentlest methods would prevail, and to trust to time and diplomacy the healing of an evil which rough handling would aggravate beyond the hope of recovery.
But neither the proposal of the old janissaries nor Poniatowski’s letters could in the least convince the King that it was possible for him to give way without injuring his honour; he would rather die by the hands of the Turks than be in any sense their prisoner. He dismissed the janissaries without seeing them, sending them word that if they did not hurry he would shave their beards for them, which in the East is considered the most provoking affront that can be offered. The old soldiers, in a rage, returned home, crying, “Down with this iron-head. Since he is resolved to die, let him.” They gave the Pasha an account of their mission, and told their comrades at Bender of the strange reception they had met with. Then all swore to obey the orders of the Pasha without delay, and they were now as eager for the assault as they had been adverse to it the day before. The word was given at once; they marched up to the entrenchments, the Tartars were already waiting for them, and the ten cannon began to play. The janissaries on one side and the Tartars on the other, forced this little camp in an instant. Twenty Swedes had scarcely time to draw their swords, the 300 were surrounded and taken prisoners without resistance. The King was then on horseback between his house and his camp, with Generals Hoord, Dardoff and Sparre; seeing that all his soldiers had suffered themselves to be taken before his eyes, he said with _sangfroid_ to those three officers, “Let us go and defend the house. We’ll fight,” he added with a smile, “pro aris et focis.”
With them he immediately galloped up to the house, where he had placed about forty servants as sentinels, and which they had fortified as best they could. These generals, though they were accustomed to the obstinate courage of their master, could not but be surprised that in cold blood and in jest he should propose that they should defend themselves against ten cannon and a whole army; they followed him with twenty guards and domestics. But when they were at the door, they found it besieged by janissaries. Besides, nearly 200 Turks and Tartars had already got in at a window, and had seized all the rooms, except a great hall, whither the King’s servants had withdrawn. Luckily this hall was near the door at which the King intended entering with his twenty men. He threw himself from his horse, pistol and sword in hand, and his followers did the same. The janissaries fell on him from all sides, encouraged by the Pasha’s promise of eight gold ducats to any who did but touch his coat, in case they could not take him. He wounded and killed all that came near him. A janissary, whom he had wounded, stuck his musket in the King’s face, and if the arm of a Turk had not jostled him in the crowd the King would have been killed. The ball grazed his nose, and took off a piece of his ear, and then broke the arm of General Hoord, whose fate it was always to be wounded at his master’s side.
The King stuck his sword into the janissary’s breast, and at the same time his servants, who were shut up in the hall, opened the door to him. He and his little troop slipped in as swiftly as an arrow; they closed the door at once, and barricaded it with all they could find. Behold Charles shut up in this hall with all his attendants, about three-score men, officers, secretaries, valets, and servants of all kinds! The janissaries and the Tartars pillaged the rest of the house and filled the rooms. “Come,” said the King, “let us go and drive out these barbarians.” Then, putting himself at the head of his men, he, with his own hands, opened the door of the hall, which opened into his bedroom, went in and fired on his plunderers. The Turks, laden with booty, terrified at the sudden appearance of the King whom they had reverenced, threw down their arms and jumped out of the window or fled to the cellars. The King, taking advantage of their confusion, and his own men being animated with this piece of success, pursued the Turks from room to room, killed or wounded those who had not made their escape, and in a quarter of an hour cleared the house of the enemy. In the heat of the combat the King saw two janissaries who had hidden themselves under his bed. He thrust one through, but the other asked pardon, saying “Amman.” “I grant you your life,” said the King, “on condition that you go and give the Pasha a faithful account of what you have seen.” The Turk readily promised to do as he was told, and was then allowed to leap out of the window like the others.
The Swedes were at last masters of the house again, and shut and barricaded the windows. They did not lack arms, for a room on the ground floor, full of muskets and powder, had escaped the tumultuous search of the janissaries. This they turned to good account, firing close on the Turks through the window, and killing 200 of them in less than a quarter of an hour. The cannon played against the house, but as the stones were very soft they only made holes in the wall, but demolished nothing. The Kan of Tartary and the Pasha, who wanted to take the King alive, ashamed at losing time and men, and employing a whole army against sixty persons, thought it expedient to fire the house in order to force the King to surrender; they had arrows twisted with lighted matches shot on to the roof and against the door and windows; by this means the whole house was soon in flames; the roof, all in flames, was about to fall on the Swedes. The King quietly gave orders for extinguishing the fire, and finding a small barrel full of liquor he took hold of it himself, and with the help of two Swedes, threw it on the place where the fire was most violent. Then he found that it was full of brandy. The fire burned more furiously than ever, the King’s room was burned, and the great hall, where the Swedes were then, was filled with terrible smoke mingled with tongues of flame, that came in through the doors of the next rooms. Half the roof fell in, and the other had fallen outside the house, cracking among the flames.
A guard called Walberg ventured, when things had got to this pass, to say that they must surrender. “What a strange man this is,” said the King, “to imagine that it is not more glorious to be burned than to be taken prisoner.” Another guard, called Rosen, remarked that the Chancery-house, which was only fifty paces away, had a stone roof, and was fire-proof; that they might well sally out, gain that house, and there stand on the defensive. “A true Swede,” cried the King; then he embraced him and made him a colonel on the spot. “Come on, my friends,” he said, “take all the powder and ball you can carry, and let us gain Chancery, sword in hand.” The Turks, who were all this while round the house, were struck with fear and admiration at seeing that the Swedes were staying inside in spite of the flames. But they were much more astonished when they saw them open the doors, and the King and his men fall on them desperately. Charles and his leading officer were armed with sword and pistol. Every one fired two pistols at a time at the instant that the door opened, and in a flash throwing away their pistols, and drawing their swords, they drove back the Turks fifty paces; but the next moment the little band was surrounded.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.