Fall of Constantinople

[edyzmedieval]

Chapter IV. Before the first siege.

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Chapter IV – First warning sign


As the dark clouds gathered over the capital, standing in his usual balcony spot, undisturbed and melancholic, the Byzantine Emperor was only remotely thinking about his next tactical move, preferring to wonder about his and his children's future. He seemed somewhat out of this world, his aged face resembling something of a child dreaming of fantasy lands with lots of playgrounds and toys made for their enjoyment. But the reality was completely different, and his close friends knew it all too well. Even though his spies have been brutally killed, subterfuge reports still managed to get to Manuel on time to prepare his men and sound the alarm in all Byzantine possessions, from Constantinople to Moreea and Thessaloniki. He immediately ordered the engineers, carpenters and builders to repair the walls before the Ottomans would come, the only viable thing he could do at that very moment except to wait and see what was going to happen in the foreseeable future. Manuel was expecting the attack for a long time, but it seemed somewhat surprising to him it started so late after the initial shock provided by the Byzantine embassy to Sultan Murad. He didn't waste much time after receiving the reports, his administrative skills kicking into action and obliging him to take immediate measure for the protection of the Byzantine possessions. Manuel called everyone from the nearby villages inside the city, behind the shelter provided by the triple walls, and along with them came a significant amount of produce in the form of grain and livestock, which was more than welcome inside the city, supplementing the strained supply line necessary to feed the troops. Soon, the granaries were bursting with crops, something which could only raise the morale of the troops and bring hope for the future. Inside himself, Manuel was more than concerned about everyone's fate except his. His altruism was always on display but not many were able to see through his calm, impenetrable façade.
By this time, his close advisors and ministers already knew where to find him almost daily, if they needed him for something. As he was walking up and down the balcony, Sphrantzes joined him on the balcony ready to report the daily information towards his grief-stricken emperor. Manuel observed him but for a couple of moments he did not say a word, completely ignoring Sphrantzes and waiting for him to break the heavy silence, which he did.

"My Emperor, the situation is not good. The Ottomans are marching on with more troops that we could ever muster even in our glorious days, ready and eager to finally conquer the city. I trust you read the reports I have sent you this morning through my servants, but I thought I should deliver you the information once again in person.”

Manuel was listening to everything but he didn't immediately reply, instead preferring to continue looking at the Blacharnae walls.
“You seem very depressed Clarissime."

"You know very well what's going on Sphrantzes. We have those bastards knocking at and knocking down our gates with their bows and curved swords, and we can't do anything about it. What kills me inside is the incapacity of retaliation from our side.”

Manuel went inside his bedroom to grab a bottle of wine, which he shared with Sphrantzes afterwards.

“Not only we are left helpless, but nobody in the West wants to help our cause either. Their despicable interests want us destroyed, erased from this world we live in with difficulty, that's what they want. What other message could we get from all these refusals? They engage in fighting between themselves, each prince vying for power while trying to kill their adversaries at the same time. There is no unity, it is just a petty interest called money which could give them the power they want.”

Manuel stopped for a split moment, his attention distraught by an albatross circling around the palace.

“I am not depressed, but I'm very saddened about the attitude of the foreign powers regarding our problem.

"My emperor, I wholeheartedly agree with you, but do not lose all glimmers of hope. You know not all is lost. While I was discussing the affairs with Admiral Notaras, we have both found a short term solution to our problems. Notaras proposed to me that we should send diplomatic missions with requests to the Governor of Krete and the King of Kypros, who are friendly towards our cause, so we can recruit archers and soldiers which can be used to supplement our infantry divisions. Krete was always a friend of the empire, and I am sure lots of men if asked would want to join our cause, as they are true patriotic Hellenes."

“Are you sure of this? Do you think we can make it? If we get refused, the treasury will suffer another blow, and this can be used with other purposes.”

“I give my word for it.”

“Very well, it seems like a good proposal and I approve this idea. I want you to send the messages at first daylight, we do not need to lose any more days thinking over it. Time is vital and our enemies are fast approaching. Go now and alert the emissaries."

"Yes, Sire."

Sphrantzes left the fray, leaving the Autokrator lonely once more the balcony. By that time the eagle drew closer and closer circling frenetically the palace, clearly spotting something of great interest. Manuel wondered why didn't his predecessors take care of Constantinople, instead of constructing those huge and useless palaces? For him it was completely out of his understanding. Although extremely fortified, the walls will some day crumble, falling the test of time which they have so gladly passed until this very moment.

These were the final moments before the siege, the last crucial moments of silence which Manuel was sure he would dearly miss once the affair would start. It was well past midnight but Manuel was alone on the balcony as usual, looking at the beautiful full moon which was shining brightly on the night sky. He muttered to himself his cradle song, and when he stopped, he only had a few words left in his mind.

“This will not be the last siege of Constantinople...”


Byzantine military camp in Mistra, Moreea


The main army barracks in Moreea were situated in the extensive Hexamilion wall constructed earlier by Emperor Manuel with the aim of guarding the important Isthmus of Corinth. The complex fortification system offered a protected place from which to engage in the training of the fresh recruits while being close enough to jump to the defence of the city or the wall at any time when required. It was the biggest system of military barracks in Moreea, the last independent Byzantine despotate, and thus it needed a large facility to house and train the soldiers entrusted with the defence of its independence and its sheer survival in the cruel medieval world. The soldiers' rooms were all placed in a square where in the middle the hand-to-hand combat training between the new recruits commenced every morning and every afternoon with almost obsessive exactness. For the officers who were inside the barracks, the training was the most important part of their duty as true Greek soldiers serving the will of their Emperor, and it was their passion and the job they have been doing since they were babies - fighting. The barracks resembled somewhat the original Spartan camps, being very similar in their layout and in their training equipment provided for the soldiers. This however enabled a better training for the warriors, something which would prove beneficial later on for the ever-diminishing numbers of men that were serving under the Byzantine Emperor's banner.
One of the senior officers stationed that day in the barracks was Stavros Kakoulis, a distinguished warrior who participated in numerous fights and skirmishes with the Ottomans, the Latins who owned Athens but also Arab pirates who kept raiding the settlements off the Peloponese coast. Of middle height but as strong as a ox, Stavros was one of the main trainers as well, guiding the recruits through their “baptism” from the first moment they were passed on to his hand. Almost all of them thanked him at the end for his methods, albeit brutal, which turned them into real soldiers thirsty to defend themselves and the Empire they were part of against any enemy that would come in their way. Stavros today was relaxed offering his trainees an off day, letting them go down to Mistra and enjoy the company of women while he would drink wine and read the ancient Greek writers. He was a scholar just like his Emperor, creating many poems which would enchant any woman that would encounter paths with him. His day of calm would soon be disturbed by something that would inevitably change his life from now on, giving him a glimmer of hope to prove himself in a real battle, something which he had hoped for a very long time. Stavros was reading Cicero's treatises on rhetoric when one of his junior officers came inside his chamber with a yellowish looking object in his hand.

“Kir Stavros, a messenger came to us just now and he gave me this parchment signed by Giorgios Sphrantzes himself.” said the young officer, handing his superior the roll.

“Thank you, Ioannos.” replied Stavros.

He immediately unrolled the parchment and started reading the contents out loud, catching brief glimpses of horror on Ioannos' face as he heard the words coming out Stavros's mouth.

“Round the men up, we are getting ready for war.”

It took some time before all the men were rounded up from Mistra by their officers and returned inside the barracks. The smaller garrisons from inside the city joined their comrades along in the training square which was seemingly small for the impressive number of men gathered in it, with Stavros and a couple of his officers right in the middle of the crowd.

“Men, the moment you have all been waiting for, or not, has arrived upon us this day. I have just received a message from our Emperor in Constantinople to prepare ourselves for war which will be against our eternal foes, the Ottoman Turks, who have commenced their assault upon our glorious capital, Constantinople.”

All recruits looked attentively towards their senior officer, not daring to say a single word.

“We have been training for this moment for many years now, and this is the time to prove our skill and our courage in an honest battle against those sons of bitches. Take up the arms and get ready to defend your motherland, but also to prove yourselves as the worthy warriors you are! Too long we have waited for them to leave, it is now time to make them leave! You will be assigned to bolster and defend the troops stationed around Thessaloniki, our last major city apart from our marvellous Constantinople. You will have the chance to kill those pagans and send them to hell!

Stavros paused, letting his words sink in the minds of his trainees.

“Men, get ready to defend your motherland, your Emperor and the word of God!”

Contrary to what he had expected and feverishly hoped for, a deathly silence engulfed the camp.


Forum of Theodosius, Constantinople


Being a peasant trying to sell his own produce in the busy markets of Constantinople wasn't the easiest thing to do with the stiff competition, as everyone who participated in this business would tell you. But for some, life was rosier than they would have hoped for, and this provided numerous advantages and disadvantages which differed from a person to another. Every day life however got considerably more difficult with a solution nowhere to be seen to relieve the problems, and it was because of the upcoming war that was on everyone's lips inside all Byzantine possessions and not only. Most of the peasants lost their lands and their crops once the Ottomans raided their villages, leaving them stranded without a home and without a future. Some of them however managed to save whatever they had and migrated in the city, living on the streets and eating whatever scraps they could find beside the markets or the bustling taverns and inns. The wealthy parecs who escaped the onslaught became merchants in the city, but their discontent towards the leadership was more than obvious, adding to the already growing unrest coming from the poor situation the Empire was facing. In these times, all the gossip between the citizens surprisingly stopped apart from a few who continued with this typical Roman habit, uninterested with the current affairs. The war was on everyone's lips these days especially in the markets, the unquenchable thirst for discussion of the merchants creating more than enough talking for the entire city.

“Everything seems to go down the drain these days. Not even a visit to the Hagia Sophia can save us.” said Isidorus, one of the merchants

“Do not worry about the future. I have faith in the Emperor.” replied his neighbour, Palamas.

“Oh really? So what do you think about the proposed union between our church and those barbaric westerners, something our Emperor has suggested?” intervened another merchant neighbouring Palamas, Giorgios.

“I can never understand you people. Why refuse when this is a great chance of coming back to our former glory! It can save us and we can forget of our current situation. We need to think about our children as well, mind you.” said Palamas

“I will never accept to prostitute myself to those unwashed barbarians!” said Giorgios angrily

“They have taken much of our knowledge and adapted it in their world, and some of them have been grateful and have returned the help towards us.” replied Isidorus.

“Great help they have provided. 100 soldiers and 5 cannons, and that's it.”

“It is still better than nothing.”

“I couldn't care less honestly. The help we provided them is worth much more than a couple of heartless professionals who just want to be paid and the 5 cannons which are actually the ones they don't like because of whatever reason! So the help you have so greatly approved of means nothing to us.”

“Sweet mother of God, stop fighting between each other! We have a war on our hands and instead of supporting each other in these times we engage in stupid discussions!” intervened Palamas.

“Can't you see, we are truly Rome's descendants.” replied Isidorus ironically.

“I for one, I don't agree with Manuel's decisions as an Emperor. He seems weak and plays second fiddle to those Turks.” replied Giorgios, spitting on the floor.

“What's with him now? I have supported him as an Emperor. He can count on my side if he is to involve the population in one of his political problems.” replied Palamas

“It is the economy which is suffering. Those Genoese and Venetians have more than half of their taxes gone while we struggle to pay ours, and when we don't pay our taxes, the guards come to our house to collect them!” intervened Isidorus

“Cowards! Not only this, but our beloved Emperor has ordered to impose more taxes upon our broken backsides. The shame which we are facing!” replied Giorgios

A couple of travellers and shoppers stopped in their tracks to listen to the heated conversation between the peasants-turned-merchants.

“This is not the time, Giorgios! We need to support our Emperor in these hard times.”
said Palamas
“Why do you want to keep supporting him?”

“He guided us through many external problems which could have meant our end. He was a diplomatic mastermind in relation with the Ottoman Empire.”

“Instead of bribing their officials the money could have been used to hire more Greek troops and improve the trading and the economy of our empire. He didn't do it. And now we suffer! We have trouble feeding our families, living off the earnings of the day before! These things must stop! We cannot continue like this!”

“Unification with Rome mi...”

“Shut up with your unification, nothing good can come out of it! And nothing good will ever come out of this infested place ever again!” ended angrily Giorgios, spitting on the floor beside him once again.

Just as the conversation reached a stalemate, the men were immediately interrupted from saying any further replies by one of the Forum's usual beggars.

“Men, the time for conquest is not over! We shall not perish at the hands of the Ottomans who are already on their way towards us!”

A loud shock was heard inside the large market.

“Already marching on us?” replied a woman, visibly shocked by what she heard

“How do you know beggar? Why should we trust what you say?” replied Giorgios.

“Because I travel much more than you even if I am a poor beggar. They will come upon us with a force that the world has never seen before, but they shall not conquer us! Mark my words, and get ready for war!”

Similar to what happened in the barracks, a paralysing silence took over the Forum.

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