Authors: James Shipman
Constantine noticed Sphrantzes did not join in the joke. He stared at the table without comment, flicking fruit back and forth across his plate.
“What’s wrong my friend?” he asked, grabbing a fig off Sphrantze’s plate and flicking it in the air in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“I bear terrible news My Lord.”
Constantine felt his stomach heave. What now? Couldn’t he enjoy a moment with things going at least a little right? “What is it?” he demanded.
“I wish I had only one piece of bad news My Lord but I have two.”
“What could it be now?” repeated the Emperor.
“First My Lord, I have news of the Venetians captured last fall when their ship was sunk. They were ushered before Mehmet after a period of imprisonment. Mehmet ordered them beheaded. They were all executed.”
“Terrible. Spread the news through the city. The people must remember what we are dealing with, and what will happen to them if the city ever falls. I hope that’s the worst news.”
“No My Lord, unfortunately it is not. The other news is far more grave. Apparently that Hungarian Orban who came here last year searching for work has instead been retained by the Turks. He has constructed a number of cannons, including a huge monster, larger than any cannon ever constructed. This cannon was tested ten days ago. It lobbed a giant ball a mile or more and caused a huge crater outside Edirne. This cannon could potentially tear our walls apart. Without our walls, we cannot hold the city. I have to surmise that the construction of this cannon can only be for the purpose of attacking the city. I predict the Turks will move against us in March or April, as soon as the roads are sufficiently dry and firm.”
Constantine could not believe it. Must his life be filled with impossible odds and unfortunate surprises? He knew the Turks had cannons, but they were small and unreliable. While they made tremendous noise, they blew up and killed their crews more often than they did any real damage. These smaller cannons might have posed a risk to some of the buildings beyond the walls, or against his forces in the open field, but not against the city walls themselves. Constantinople could withstand any siege, against any sized army, if the walls remained intact. But if the walls were breached, the city would fall to the Turks. He had nothing like the number of troops he would expect Mehmet to have. He might be able to field 15,000 or 20,000 men against probably two to three times that number. They would never be able to survive in the open against the Turks. Constantine considered all of this while he kept his face impassive. He knew he must encourage even his closest advisors.
“Thoughts on this, Notaras?”
Loukas had remained silent thus far, considering the question before he answered.
“I still don’t think these rumors are guaranteed to be true. Even if the cannon
was
actually as powerful as Sphrantzes says, they might be intending to use it for the defense of Edirne, or for operations to the north or even in Anatolia. Let’s assume Mehmet intends to use it against the city. No weapon has ever made any real impression on our walls. They would have to transport the cannon to the city, a distance of almost 150 miles. Even when it gets here, we don’t know if it will work. It might explode at the first shot. Finally, if it does work, that doesn’t mean it will breach the walls. I have no idea what kind of cannon would be needed to break down our walls. Perhaps no cannon could do so.
It is grave news, My Lord, but it is not the end of all things. It is but one piece of bad news among so much that we have had yet we still sit here and Mehmet still cannot get in. We must plan, we must pray, and if the cannon destroys the walls, then we must fight our best and hope for a miracle.”
Constantine nodded in agreement. He smiled to himself. They all knew how desperate the situation now was. But Notaras was correct, the situation had been so grave for so long, yet they still possessed the city. He must pray for further miracles.
“My Lord, surely now you will agree to at least send out feelers to the Georgians regarding marriage and potential aid,” said Sphrantzes. “Clearly the situation has changed. We need support now.”
“You’re an idiot!” said Notaras. “The Emperor has refused you again and again. Why do you persist, when you know it only causes him pain?”
“No Loukas my friend, don’t blame Sphrantzes for looking for solutions. I must find aid and miracles where I can find them.”
Constantine thought again about the marriage proposal as he had considered it over and over. Sphrantzes had been pushing a marriage for more than a year now. The King of Georgia was not all-powerful, but he possessed a sizeable army and a fleet. If Constantine married his daughter, surely he could expect aid in the event of an attack, particularly if the princess was already living in Constantinople when the siege began. The problem was Zophia. If he made this proposal he would lose her. She was the only person in his life he truly loved. The only person he could share with, to whom he could show his true self. Must he give that up as well? He realized with great reluctance that he could not ignore any possible chance for aid. It would take some time to make the arrangements. He could always retract the offer later if the city was safe.
He made his decision.
“You may send an inquiry to the Georgians, and find out what aid they would send if I married the Princess Ariana. They must understand this aid would have to be immediate. Under no condition is anyone to speak of this publicly. We will wait to hear back from them before we make any final decisions on the subject.”
Both men nodded, clearly understanding Constantine did not want this information to get back to Zophia. He was greatly conflicted with this decision but also stunned by the news of the new threat to the city walls. Could he ignore any possible avenue of relief for Zophia’s sake? She would probably never know and if he ultimately had to tell her, at least he could delay that disclosure until he knew whether it would be worth the sacrifice. He knew he was betraying her a second time. He hoped she would forgive him, and understand why. But he knew she would not. Was it wrong to keep the information from her until he knew further? Of course it was. It was wrong and it was selfish. He needed her though. Needed her as long as she could be there. He wanted one thing in the world just for himself. He hoped if she ever learned the truth that she would forgive him, even if she never talked to him again.
MONDAY, JANUARY 29, 1453
January came near its end with no sign of any aid. The church and public donations had stagnated. Work on the land walls had to be greatly cut back in order to save money. Constantine still had several crews rebuilding portions of the wall, but no work could yet be done on the Foss, and there were still large cracks and even several holes in the walls. He was upset with himself at not completing this reconstruction years ago, but there was never enough money, and always a crisis to deal with. What little money he was able to generate from taxes and trade tariffs was applied to the substantial annual tribute he paid to the Sultan, supposedly to keep the Turks at bay.
He spent the morning inspecting the work on the land walls, and looking out over the valley beyond the walls, searching for Turkish scouts. After the inspection he made his way to Zophia’s for lunch and invited her to ride on an inspection of the sea walls near the tip of the city.
They rode slowly through Constantinople, taking their time, enjoying each other’s company. The sun was out and was warm on their faces, unusually so for the time of year. They rode past the towering St. Sophia, the great cathedral, literally “Church of the Holy Wisdom.” St. Sophia had been the largest building in the world for more than a thousand years. The cathedral towered above the city, the massive dome rising as if suspended from heaven for more than 180 feet above the marble floor at the center of the sanctuary.
Eventually they arrived at the acropolis near the crumbling ancient palace of the city where they could look out over the walls to the Asiatic shore. The water was serene on the light winded day. They looked north over the Golden Horn to the walls of Galata. They could make out the sea chain, nearly completed now, stretching out over the Horn. To the northeast, the Bosporus stretched across to Asia. To the South, the Sea of Marmara stretched out of sight on its long path to the Gallipoli Peninsula and out to the Aegean Sea.
Constantine noticed to his surprise several masts on the extreme horizon to the south. He pointed them out excitedly to Zophia.
“On no, could it be the Turks?” she asked.
“Not coming from that direction dear. This could be what we are waiting for, a relief fleet from the Pope! We are saved!”
They stood together counting the ships as they appeared on the horizon. Constantine’s hopes fell as he saw there were only three. Still, could this be an advance guard of a much larger fleet.
They sat for hours together, laughing, hopeful, watching the ships move closer and closer to the city. Eventually the galleys moved past the point of the peninsula and tacked to the southwest into the horn until eventually arriving at the city harbor.
Constantine and Zophia rode from the Acropolis along the sea walls and watched the ships dock. They held back for a few minutes to make sure the passengers were in fact friendly, then they dismounted and made their way to the pier.
“Who is in charge here?” asked Constantine.
A tall, middle-aged man with dark hair and a beard stepped off the ship. “I am.”
“Who are you?”
“I am Giovanni Gustianni Longo, who are you?”
“He’s the Emperor,” answered Zophia.
Giovanni was obviously surprised to meet the Emperor right at the dockside. He bowed low and ordered the men on the ships to do the same. He then stepped forward and shook hands with Constantine.
“Where do you come from?” asked Constantine. “Did the Pope send you?”
“The Pope? No. I am Genoese but I didn’t come from Genoa. I came of my own accord. I have late been of the island of Chios. I am a soldier and have fought in many battles. I have heard rumors of the danger to the city and I raised a company of men to come to the relief of the city.”
Constantine was surprised. A private citizen had raised a force for the city without any requirement from a King or Prince? He was both pleased at the admirable effort of Giovanni and hopeful that if the threat to the city had moved this Giovanni to assist, additional help must be on the way from other individuals and leaders.
“Your help is much appreciated! How many men have you brought with you?”
“I have some 700 souls, ready for battle. I have also brought money I have collected from a variety of benefactors. Many wealthy people on Chios donated to the cause, even if they were unable to assist in the actual battle.”
Constantine smiled, relief flooding over him. He kept his composure the best he could but he could not help showing his delight. 700 men plus money! He could resume work on the walls, and the 700 men would add substantially to his military force. He wasn’t sure exactly how many men he had yet for the defense of the city, but he had Sphrantzes working on a count and he hoped to have accurate numbers soon. Zophia smiled encouragement to him. He could feel her happiness too. She looked so beautiful when she was happy. He felt a tinge of guilt. It had been premature for him to send a messenger to the Georgians. Now that the aid was coming in, he hoped he could soon send a second message that he had reconsidered. Zophia never needed to know he had looked into the marriage issue.
“Your help is greatly appreciated Giovanni. We need all the men we can find, particularly with battle experience. We may also be facing cannons, which, if they are effective, we have no defense for, even with our extensive land walls.”
“My Lord, I have extensive siege experience, including with cannons. If you let me work with your engineers, I know many tricks for strengthening walls against cannon fire, and methods for quickly rebuilding breaches.”
Giovanni’s arrival had to be a miracle from God thought Constantine. He needed aid and a private citizen, with no ties to the city, raises 700 men and money for the city. Constantine faces the destruction of the city’s legendary land walls to cannon fire, and this same man has experience in defending against that very problem.
Constantine ordered a horse for Giovanni. He kissed Zophia and bid her farewell, taking off with the Genoan to immediately inspect the walls and other defenses of the city. He felt hope for the first time in a very long time.
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 1453
Pope Nicholas V sat in his meeting hall in the Lateran Palace with a number of his ministers, receiving ambassadors and other dignitaries. Nicholas had become Pope in 1447. He had attended the Council of Florence where the Union of Churches had been announced. He had worked hard to begin rebuilding the ruins of Rome, including work on his palace, on the Basilica of St. Peter and on rebuilding the Aqua Virgo Aqueduct.
Rome was an eerie city in 1453, a ghost town. Once home to a population well over a million, the city now housed fewer than fifty thousand. Travelers were required to ride or walk through miles of ruins until they finally reached the central inhabited portion of the city.
Nicholas was working hard to restore the former glory of the city, for the greater glory of God. He was currently meeting with the Venetian ambassador and was discussing another shadow city: Constantinople. “Tell me, what have you heard of our Greek cousins?”
“Holy Father, grim news from our representatives to the Greeks. The new Sultan, who we all had such hopes would be busy for years consolidating his position, has instead already gathered an army near Edirne. There are rumors he is building cannons, including a behemoth. Constantine fears an attack at any moment and is doing everything he can to prepare the defenses of the city.”
“And the Union, what of the Union? Is it true that Constantine has implemented it?”
“That is true Holy Father.”
“How have the people received the Union?”
“As might be expected, they are somewhat slow to embrace the true church. Isidore has taken over the main cathedral and leads daily masses under the Latin Rite, but few Greeks are actually attending.”