According to Busbecq, the murder of Mustafa was not the only conspiracy in which Hürrem was a participant. As Busbecq told it, after Mustafa’s death, Selim, Suleiman’s eldest son by Hürrem, was the sultan’s choice for his successor. Hürrem, however, preferred Bajazet, Selim’s younger brother. Encouraged by his mother’s support and determined to avoid the certain death that awaited him should his brother become sultan, Bajazet launched a conspiracy to overthrow his father and seize the throne. When the conspiracy failed, Bajazet found himself in what was, to say the least, an extremely precarious position. In this passage, Busbecq describes Hürrem’s successful intervention on Bajazet’s behalf. As you read it, consider what Busbecq might have made of Suleiman’s capitulation. What light does the passage shed on Busbecq’s view of Suleiman’s character and Hürrem’s influence?

I will now proceed to answer your inquiries touching Bajazet, but in order to make my explanation clearer, I must give you further explanations about the Sultan’s family. Solyman has had five sons, the eldest of whom was Mustapha, whose unhappy end I have already described; he was the son of a woman who came from the Crimea; by a Russian woman, to whom he is legally married, he has had four sons — Mahomet, Selim, Bajazet, and Jehangir. Mahomet, after marrying a wife (for the Turks give the title of wife to concubines), died while still young. The surviving sons are Selim and Bajazet.

Jehangir, the youngest, is dead, and of his death I shall now proceed to give you an account. The news of Mustapha’s death, when it arrived at Constantinople, overwhelmed the young prince with terror and dismay. The poor lad, whose person was disfigured by a hump, had no strength of mind or body to enable him to resist the shock. The death of his brother reminded him of the fate in store for himself at no distant day. His father’s death would seal his doom. The consignment of the old Sultan to the tomb would mark at once the commencement of his successor’s reign, and the termination of his own life. Whoever that successor might be, it was certain he would regard all his brothers as rivals to his throne, who must be got rid of without delay; and of these brothers he was one. These sad thoughts took hold of him to such an extent, that an order for his instant execution could not have terrified him more. So great was his misery that it brought on an illness which terminated in his death.

Two sons, as I said, survive; one of whom, Selim, being the elder, is intended by his father to succeed him on the throne. Bajazet’s claims are warmly supported by his mother, who is devoted to him. Possibly his hopeless position may have excited her pity, or she may be influenced by his dutiful bearing towards herself; but whatever the reason may be, no one doubts that, if it depended on her, Bajazet would be placed on the throne to the exclusion of Selim. She must, however, yield to the father’s will, and he is thoroughly determined that, if the fates permit, no one but Selim shall succeed him. Bajazet, being aware how matters stand, is anxiously looking round for an opportunity of escaping the fate marked out for him, and exchanging a pitiless doom for a throne. Indeed the support of his mother and Roostem prevents his altogether despairing of success; and to fall fighting for the chance of empire seems to him a more honourable lot than to be butchered like a sheep by his brother’s hangman. Such were Bajazet’s feelings, and his difference with Selim was becoming more and more marked, when he discerned in the odium excited by the execution of Mustapha an opportunity of putting in motion the revolution he had long been planning.

So intense was the sorrow for Mustapha, that many after his death grew weary of life; all their prospects had been bound up in his fortunes, and what they most longed for was an opportunity of avenging his wrongs or sharing his fate. Some of his supporters were rendered so uneasy by their own fears, that they thought there could be nothing worse than their present position, and therefore were looking out for the means of bringing about a general revolution; all that was wanted was a leader; Mustapha indeed could not be recalled to life, but a pretender could be set up. Bajazet was on the watch, and the idea struck him as one admirably calculated for the furtherance of his design. At his instigation, some of his followers induced a fellow of low origin, but daring and resolute, to announce himself as Mustapha, and boldly personate the dead prince. In height, features, and general appearance he was not unlike that unhappy youth. Feigning to have escaped from the Sultan by flight, the pretender began to show himself first northward of Constantinople, on the slopes of the Balkan leading down to the Danube, not far from the provinces of Moldavia and Wallachia.

There were two reasons for choosing this locality; first, because the proximity of the above-mentioned provinces afforded a good opening for revolutionary schemes, and, secondly, because the whole country was full of Spahis, a branch of the service which had provided Mustapha with most of his followers. He landed there with a few attendants, pretending to be a traveller, who desired to escape notice. When his companions were questioned as to who he was, they made people think it was Mustapha by timid hints, rather than by downright statements; nor did their leader himself deny that such was the case. This cunning device made people still more anxious to see him. Hereon the pretender threw away all disguise; and after expressing his joy at his safe arrival among them, and thanking God for his preservation, proceeded to tell them the following story. He said that when he was summoned, he had not ventured to enter into the presence of his offended father or trust himself in his hands, but that by the advice of his friends he had, by means of large promises, procured a man who resembled him to go in his stead, that he might learn his father’s disposition towards himself, at the risk of another man’s life: this man, before he was admitted to his father, or given any opportunity of pleading his case, had been cruelly strangled, and exposed in front of the Sultan’s tent; at the time there were many who had a sort of suspicion of the trick, but a still larger number, owing to the features of the wretched man being rendered undistinguishable by his agonising death, had been induced to believe that he himself had suffered. On learning this, he had felt that he must without loss of time fly for his life. Knowing that his safety depended on secresy, he had only allowed a few of his companions to share his flight; he had made his way along the north coast of the Black Sea through the tribes of the Bosphorus, and had come amongst them, because he felt that in their loyal protection lay his best chance of safety. He implored them not to fail him in the hour of trial, when he was suffering from the persecution of his wicked stepmother, or hold him of less account than they had been wont to do in the time of his prosperity; his object was to avenge his wrongs, and draw the sword in self-defence. What else remained to him? If he still lived, it was only because another had died in his stead; proof enough had been given of his father’s feelings towards him; to his parent’s mistake, not to his parent’s affection, he owed his life; all this misery arose from the sorceries of his mother-in-law; the poor old Sultan being hardly in his right mind, and madly devoted to his wife, she was able to sway him at her pleasure, and with Roostem’s assistance, to drive him to the commission of any crime she chose; but, thank God, he had true friends to help him out of his misfortunes, and inflict condign punishment on his enemies; he still had devoted followers, on his side were the Janissaries and the greater part of his father’s household, large forces would pour in when they heard of his standard being raised, and hosts of friends, who mourned his death, would rally round him when they found he still lived. He only asked them to receive him kindly as a guest, and protect him in the day of adversity, until such time as his supporters could be assembled.

At first he used this language privately, but afterwards he harangued in a similar strain the inhabitants of the places he visited; the men who were supposed to have been the companions of his flight supported his assertions by similar narratives; while persons of considerable position, who had been suborned by Bajazet, made statements to the same effect. By this means a great number of people who had no connection with Bajazet were drawn into the mistake. For the affair was so artfully managed that some who had known Mustapha during his life, and had recognised his body when it lay before his father’s tent, were nevertheless anxious to discredit their own senses, and allowed themselves to be persuaded that this was the true Mustapha. And though the intimate friends and dependants of Mustapha, on whose memories his features were imprinted, were in no wise deceived by the impostor, nevertheless, they were so blinded by fear and resentment that they were among the first to give in their allegiance. There was nothing they were not willing to undergo sooner than live any longer without a Mustapha. Their adhesion prevented the rest from having any doubts as to his being the true Mustapha, and convinced them that the story of his execution was founded on a mistake. Nor was the impostor himself idle; for some he had fine words and promises, while on many he bestowed money and presents, purporting to be a remnant saved from the wreck of his former fortune (for Bajazet had taken care that there should be no lack of funds), and so, by one means or another, he managed to keep his followers together, and add to their number.

Accordingly, in a few days a large and daily increasing force had been collected; the muster had already assumed the proportions of a regular army, when Solyman was suddenly informed of the insurrection; letters and messengers came in hot haste from the neighbouring Sanjak-beys to tell him that the insurrection was rapidly gaining head, and the crisis had become serious.

The Sultan, rightly surmising that one or other of his two sons was privy to the conspiracy, considered it a most serious matter, and sent despatches severely reprimanding the Sanjak-beys for their remissness in allowing the insurrection to assume such formidable proportions, instead of nipping it in the bud; moreover, he threatened to punish them severely if they failed to send him the impostor in chains at the very earliest date possible, and with him all the other ringleaders in this monstrous treason. He told them that, in order to expedite matters, he was sending one of his Vizierial Pashas to their assistance (the name of this officer was Pertau, he is married to the widow of the Mahomet of whom I told you), and that he was accompanied by a large force of household troops; but if they desired to clear themselves, they had better bring the matter to a conclusion with their own forces, before the reinforcements arrived.

Pertau’s command was not numerous, but it was composed of the most loyal of the Sultan’s troops; for Solyman had taken care to select his most faithful colonels, captains, and cavalry officers. There was, indeed, serious apprehension of Pertau’s forces being induced to go over to the enemy in a body, as it was impossible to say how far they had been tampered with, or to what length their party feeling might carry them. The rank and file of the Janissaries, excited by the idea of a revolution with Mustapha at its head, were well inclined towards the insurgents, and eager for the rising to become general. There were, therefore, serious reasons for anxiety.

On receiving Solyman’s commands, the Sanjak-beys felt the necessity of vigorous action, and, with many mutual exhortations, set to work in all haste to oppose and check the pretender’s plans, doing their utmost to cut off the bands that were coming up, and to break up the force which he had already collected, whilst they cowed the whole country side with threats of the Sultan’s vengeance.

Meanwhile, the column of Pertau Pasha was advancing towards the scene of insurrection. The effect produced by the approach of the regular troops was such as might have been expected. The raw levies of the pretender were panic-stricken when they saw that they were out-generalled and attacked on every side. At first small parties dropped away; after a while the whole army, throwing honour and obligation to the winds, deserted their leader, and scattered in every direction. The pretender, with his chief officers and advisers, attempted to follow the example of his men, but was stopped by the Sanjak-beys, and taken alive. They were all handed over to Pertau Pasha, and sent off to Constantinople with a guard of picked troops. On their arrival, Solyman had them carefully examined under torture. Their confession established the guilt of Bajazet, and made his father acquainted with his treasonable designs. He had intended, it appears, as soon as the forces of the insurgents had reached a certain size, to join them with a strong body of troops, and either to lead them straight against Constantinople, or to fall with all his strength upon his brother, according as circumstances might favour either attempt; but whilst he hesitated, his designs were nipped in the bud by the prompt action of his father. Solyman, having satisfied himself on these points, ordered them all to be drowned in the sea at dead of night, deeming it most inexpedient that any of these transactions should be noised abroad, and his family misfortunes become the gazing-stock of neighbouring princes. The Sultan, who was grievously displeased with Bajazet for this audacious attempt, was debating in his mind how he should punish him; but his wife being a clever woman, his intentions were not long a secret to her.

Having allowed a few days to elapse, in order to give time for his anger to cool, she alluded to the subject in Solyman’s presence, and spoke of the thoughtlessness of young men, quoting similar acts which had been done by his forefathers. She reminded the Sultan that “natural instinct teaches everyone to protect himself and his family, and that death is welcome to none; that the mind of a young man can easily be seduced from the right path by the suggestions of unscrupulous advisers. It was only fair,” she said, “to pardon a first fault, and if his son came to his senses he would have saved him to his own great benefit as a father; but if Bajazet should go back to his former ways, it would then be time to punish him, as he deserved, for both his misdeeds. If he would not grant this mercy to his erring son, she implored him to grant it to a mother’s prayers. She begged for the life of the son she had borne, and entreated him to spare their common child. What must be her feelings,” she continued, “if, of the two sons whom God had spared her, one should be reft away by his unrelenting father. He ought to control his wrath, and lean to mercy rather than severity, however just that severity might be; for the Deity, whose power and justice were infinite, did not clothe himself always in severity, but to a great extent allowed mercy to prevail, otherwise the human race could not suffice to supply victims for his vengeance. To whom ought a man to extend mercy, if not to his children? Henceforth Bajazet would be a dutiful son, and, freed by this great act of grace from his present fears, overflow with love and obedience towards his father; there was no surer bond for noble souls than kind and generous treatment; the recollection of the pardon he had received would prevent Bajazet from repeating his offence. She pledged her word for him, and undertook that he should henceforth be a good and dutiful son.”

By these words, accompanied as they were with tears and caresses, Solyman was softened; and being at all times too much under his wife’s influence, he changed his resolve, and determined to spare Bajazet, on condition of his coming and receiving his commands in person. The mother was equal to the occasion, and wrote secretly to Bajazet, telling him not to be afraid to come when he was sent for, he would be perfectly safe; she had obtained his restoration to his father’s favour, from whose mind all displeasure had been removed. On receiving this message his hopes rose, and he determined to trust himself in his father’s hands; but he was not without fears, as he thought every now and then of his brother Mustapha, whose fate testified pretty clearly to the magnitude of the danger he was incurring. Accordingly, he came to the place appointed for the conference, which was a public inn a few miles from Constantinople, called Carestran. This was in accordance with a rule of the Turkish Court, that no grown-up son of the Sultan should during his father’s lifetime set foot within the walls of Constantinople, lest he should tamper with the household troops, and endeavour to seize the throne. On dismounting, he found his father’s slaves waiting for him with an order to lay aside his sword and dagger. Nor was there anything unusual in this, as it is the general rule for those who are admitted to an audience with the Sultan; still it was a precaution which was not calculated to allay the fears of his conscience-stricken son. But his mother, foreseeing how frightened he would be when entering his father’s presence, had stationed herself in a chamber close to the entrance of the house, by which Bajazet must pass. As he went by, he could hear his mother calling to him through a little canvas-covered window, and saying, “Corcoma, oglan, corcoma”; i.e., Do not fear, my son, do not fear. These words from his mother gave Bajazet no little comfort. On entering, his father bade him take a seat by his side, and proceeded to lecture him most seriously on the rashness of his conduct in venturing to take up arms under circumstances which made it not improbable that he himself was the object of his attack; and granting that his attempt was directed only against his brother, it was even then an outrageous crime.

“He had done what he could towards destroying the very foundations of the Moslem faith, by bringing to the verge of ruin through family feuds that which was nowadays its only support — the imperial power of the house of Othman; this consideration alone ought to prevent a true believer from entertaining such a design.

“On the wrong and insult to himself,” continued the Sultan, “he would not dwell, though he had attempted to seize the throne during his lifetime, and thus committed an unpardonable offence, for which no possible punishment could ever atone; in spite of all this, he had determined to spare him, and deal with him rather as a kind father than as a strict judge, in the hope that he would henceforward leave the care of the future in the hands of God; none of these matters depended on man’s pleasure, it was by God’s decree that kingdoms went and kingdoms came. If fate ordained that after his death he (Bajazet) should reign, the matter was settled, the realm would come to him without any effort on his part; no human means could avail to hinder that which was appointed from on high; but if God had decreed otherwise, it was mere madness to toil and strive against His will, and, as it were, to fight against God. In short, he must leave off fomenting disorders, cease to attack a brother who did nothing to provoke him, and refrain from troubling his aged father. But if he returned to his old courses, and stirred up another storm, it should break on his own head, and there should be no pardon for a second offence; in that case he would not find in him a gentle father, but a stern judge.”

When he had thus spoken, and Bajazet had made a short and judicious reply, apologising for his fault rather than palliating it, and promising submission for the future to his father’s will, Solyman ordered the national beverage to be brought in, and handed to his son — it was a compound of sugar and water, flavoured with the juice of certain herbs. Bajazet, longing, but not daring, to refuse it, drank as much as appearances required, with misgiving in his heart that this might be the last cup he should ever taste. But presently his father removed his anxiety by taking a draught from the same cup. Bajazet therefore was more fortunate than Mustapha in his interview with his father, and was allowed to return to his government.

Source: Charles Thornton Forster and F. H. Blackburne Daniell, The Life and Letters of Ogier Ghiselin de Busbecq (London: C. Kegan Paul & Co., 1881), pp. 178–189.

Questions to Consider