Chapter IV: Part 4

The story which this aspirant to empire gave to Prince Adam Wiszniswiecki, of Brahin, in Lithuania, in whose employ he was, was that the physician in attendance upon him (Demetrius), having been solicited by Boris to destroy him, consented, but instead of doing so, substituted the body of a serf's child for that of the to-be-slain prince, and safely carried off the heir presumptive, and placed him in the charge of a faithful adherent of the royal family. Unfortunately, both the physician and the faithful guardian being dead, the tale had to be received for what it was worth; nevertheless, the unknown produced a Russian seal, bearing the name and arms of the Czarevitch, and a valuable jewelled cross. This was in the summer of 1603, when Demetrius, if living, would have been about twenty-two--an age apparently corresponding with that of the claimant to his name. Visitors arrived who quickly recognized their resuscitated prince; warts which the late Emperor's son had had on the forehead, and under the right eye, were discovered, whilst one arm being longer than another was a still surer sign. The deportment and acquirements of the young pretender were suited to his birth, not the least of them being his good horsemanship and skill in fencing. The Poles, ready for mischief, espoused his cause; George, the Palatine of Sandomir, gave him his daughter in marriage, and the Pope of Rome, upon his secret confession of the Catholic faith, sanctioned his pretensions. Thus encouraged, he invaded Russia with a small force, and, assisted by a variety of conflicting circumstances, including the sudden death of Boris, in the course of a few months found himself the undisputed master of the whole empire. On the 20th of June, 1605, the adventurer entered Moscow in state, amid the acclamations of believing multitudes. On entering the church of St. Michael, the pseudo Demetrius, according to all accounts, acted his part admirably; kneeling before the tomb of Ivan, his face suffused with tears, he clasped his hands and exclaimed, "O father! thy orphan reigns!--this he owes to thy holy prayers!" The audience was convinced, sobbed in unison, and from all sides arose the cry, "He is the son of the Terrible!"

But a still more formidable test was to be undergone. The Dowager Czarina forsook the convent in which she had so long been immured to behold the man claiming to be her son. Demetrius went to meet her in regal state, and their first interview took place in a magnificent tent, specially prepared for the interesting ceremony. After they had been left together for a few minutes they came out, and threw themselves into one another's arms, in the full view of the enormous multitude which had assembled. Ivan's widow had recognized her son, and the new monarch was master of the situation. He respectfully conducted the Czarina to a carriage, walking bare-headed by its side. In the capital he treated her with every attention, visited her daily, and provided her with a competent revenue to maintain her royal dignity. A few moments after the murder of her son at Uglitch, she was on the spot and recognized the body; and yet, after having maintained for fourteen years her belief in his death, she came forward and recognized him in the successful adventurer, at the exact instant that recantation was worth any price.

Demetrius now set to work to govern with humanity and justice; both qualities quite unsuited to Russian tastes, who soon grew as tired of their new Czar as they had been of his predecessors. He appears to have been an able and forbearing man, but he outraged the nobles by pointing out their educational deficiencies, and the Greek priesthood by a careless or irreverent demeanour towards their Church. This latter error was his ruin. The treasury being exhausted, he began to cast wistful glances at the swollen revenues of the clergy, who at once determined upon his destruction.

On the 29th of May, 1606, "Death to the heretic!" rang through the streets of Moscow. The excited mobs, headed by priests and Shuiski, a discontented noble, who had previously been pardoned for conspiracy, broke into the palace, hunted their prey from room to room, until, already bleeding from a sabre wound, the unfortunate victim leaped out of a window into the court below, a height of thirty feet. He broke his leg in the fall, and fainted. The insurgents speedily found him, dragged him mid curses and blows into the palace, dressed him in a pastrycook's caftan in mockery, and taunted him as to his birth. The wretched man, collecting his strength, exclaimed, "I am your Czar, the son of Ivan Vassilievitch!" when his agony was terminated by a shot from an arquebuss.

His followers were destroyed, his wife barely escaped with life, and every kind of indignity was offered to the Polish ladies in attendance upon her. The body of the murdered man, after lying exposed for some days, was unceremoniously buried without the walls, then disinterred and burnt, the ashes collected, and, to make sure of no further resuscitation, mixed with gunpowder and fired off from a cannon.

Shuiski, the leader of the revolution, was raised to the throne, but finding the memory of his predecessor still cherished by many, he sought to eradicate the feeling by proving him an impostor. The Dowager Czarina, ever complacent, gave him a written declaration that the deposed Czar was not her son; but the nation placed little reliance upon her testimony now. Shuiski then pretended to have discovered the body of young Demetrius in the ruins of Uglitch, and his clerical friends contrived a miracle for the occasion. When the body was brought to Moscow, they recognized the corpse as that of the real prince, and affirmed that by heavenly providence it had been preserved in its then condition--it being found quite uncorrupt, and the glow of life not even faded from the cheek. But this miraculous interposition did not satisfy everybody, and whilst the partizans of the late Czar were affirming that a body had been substituted for the occasion, the whole country was roused to a state of frenzy by a rumour that the conspirators had murdered, burnt, and fired from the cannon's mouth _the wrong man_!

This time a substituted corpse could not be produced. A civil war broke out, but it was some time before a suitable claimant could be discovered. At last a Lithuanian Jew was selected by the insurgents, who, aided by the Poles, advanced into Russia at the head of a large army. A feasible story was invented to account for the escape of the intended victim of the late massacre; and to confirm the nation in the belief of his identity with their late Czar, Marina, the widowed Czarina, publicly acknowledged him as her own Demetrius, lived with him as his consort, and had a child by him. Her father, the Palatine of Sandomir, also recognized him as his son-in-law, and in a short time almost the whole empire declared for him.

His reign, however, was short. Deserted by his foreign allies, he was forced to fly, and eventually was assassinated. His consort, Marina, died in prison, and Ivan, one of their children, although only three years old, was publicly hanged--the most ghastly act in the entire tragedy!

DEMETRIUS THE YOUNGER OF RUSSIA.

A.D. 1632-1653.

The account of this unfortunate young man is as romantic as any novelist could possibly desire. Its full details are probably only to be found in one work, and that one a work of great rarity and antiquity, by Jean Baptiste de Rocoles, historiographer of France in the latter part of the seventeenth century. The recital of Monsieur de Rocoles acquires greater interest from the fact that he himself derived a portion of his particulars from eye-witnesses, including the account of the hero's death, which was witnessed by an Austrian colonel named Bertrand.

According to the most reliable accounts of the defeat and overthrow of the second false Demetrius, his wife Marina was cast into prison, and their infant son, only three years old, publicly hanged. If this were true, and the following history veracious, the Czarina must have given birth to a second son whilst in captivity; but there does not appear to be any historic evidence on the point. The pretender always styled himself the son of the Czar Demetrius; not, of course, in any way admitting that there were two pseudo Demetriuses.

"The time of the confusion," as it is styled in Russian history, was fruitful in the production of such impostors. Besides the two more important claimants already spoken of, and the man whose story claims this chapter, another false Demetrius was started, under Polish protection, in 1611; and a short time before that, a claimant to the title of Czarevitch Peter appeared, and alleged that he was a son of the Czar Feodor the First; but after some short-lived success both perished.

According to the account of De Rocoles, the Czarina Marina, when thrown into prison by the murderers of her husband, escaped maltreatment by alleging that she was _enceinte_. This excuse was sufficient to preserve her from the terrible fate which befel many of her female attendants, but she was carefully guarded henceforth by her captors, who only waited for her child's birth to immediately put an end to its existence. Well aware of the fate which awaited her unborn babe, the ex-Czarina procured the body of a dead infant, and at her _accouchement_ had it substituted for the male child which she gave birth to.

The newly-born boy was confided to the care of a Cossack woman, the mother of the dead babe, and was duly baptized Demetrius by a priestly confidant, and indelibly marked on the shoulder with a cross, to enable its royal birth to be proved when the opportunity arose. Some little time after this Marina found herself dying, and on her deathbed she confided to her attendants the stratagem by which she had preserved her son's life, and by them the secret was re-told to the Poles, who, four or five years later, came to Moscow with General Stanislas Solskonski. In the meanwhile, the Cossack to whom young Demetrius had been confided, and who brought him up in ignorance of his paternity, died without having any opportunity, or at all events availing herself of it, to reveal the secret of the boy's birth.

The year 1632 arrived, and the youthful Demetrius had nearly attained his twenty-sixth year. Going one day, by chance, to bathe in a small river in the vicinity of the little town of Samburg, in Black Russia, where he lived, another bather drew attention to the marks on his shoulder, and upbraided him for coming to bathe with honest men, deeming that he had been branded for some crime. The poor young man endeavoured to excuse himself by protesting that he had been born with this cross on his shoulder, as, indeed, he believed he had; and upon his companions examining the marks, they perceived that, though they were legible, they were quite different to anything they had ever seen upon the body of a malefactor. The story of the strange cross upon the young man's shoulder was soon noised about all over the neighbourhood, and coming to the ears of John Danielonski, the Royal Treasurer, he desired to see Demetrius. A number of his domestics were sent after the unknown, and he was soon found and taken before the grand official, where the poverty of his attire, and the wretchedness of his condition, were apparent to all.

The Treasurer, having some presentiment or knowledge of the way in which the young Demetrius had been marked, spoke to the young man kindly, and bidding him cast off all fear, asked to be allowed to see the said figuring upon his shoulder. The unknown, who was of handsome form and features, drew open his poor vest, and baring his shoulder, showed the marks which had been tattooed upon him at birth. Danielonski was enabled to trace the cross, but could not decipher the letters of which it was formed. A Russian priest, however, being found, he quickly read them, and affirmed that they stood for "Demetrius, son of the Czar Demetrius."

The joy of the Treasurer was immense at having discovered a son of the late Czar; he kissed the hands of the astounded prince, wished him every happiness, and placed all that could be wished for at his disposal. The joyous tidings spread in every direction; a courier was at once despatched to Vladislas the Fourth, who was then King of Poland, and the young man's claims bruited about everywhere. Vladislas, only too glad of an opportunity to annoy Alexis, the then Czar of Moscovy, sent at once for the young claimant to come to his court at Warsaw, and on his arrival awarded him an equipage suited to his presumed dignity. When the pseudo Czarewitch appeared at court, decked out in all his newly-acquired finery, he excited favourable attention by his handsome looks and kindly behaviour. He contracted a firm friendship with the nephew of the Grand Khan of Tartary, who, having been ousted from his possessions by an uncle, had sought and found an asylum in the Polish court. An apparent similarity of misfortune drew them together, and Vladislas, doubtlessly finding it suit his policy to encourage their pretensions, treated the two young men with every kindness, protested that he regarded them as sons, he not having any of his own, and declared that he would not leave anything undone to replace them upon their respective thrones.

Intelligence of the arrival and friendly reception of Demetrius at the Polish court was not long in travelling to Moscow; the Czar was greatly enraged when he heard of what had occurred, and sent an envoy to Vladislas to demand that the person of the _soi disant_ Czarewitch should be given up to him. The Latin address which the Moscovite ambassador delivered to the Polish King when he made his demand is still preserved, and is chiefly remarkable for the hundred and one titles by which the Russian monarch was designated. Vladislas responded to the wearisome harangue in the same language, to the effect that no consideration would induce him to hand Prince Demetrius over to his rival Alexis, and he took no pains to conceal from the envoy that he meant to support the claims of his guest as far as lay in his power. The fruitlessness of this mission gave great uneasiness to the Czar, and caused him to seek out every possible alliance. Fate soon assisted him.

In 1648 Vladislas died, and was succeeded on the Polish throne by John Casimir, who, having to fight with Charles of Sweden, and other European powers, found it necessary to secure the neutrality of Russia; he was, therefore, obliged to banish Demetrius. The unfortunate man at first took refuge in Revel, in the little republic of Livonia. The magistrates and principal citizens received him with regal honours, but, on their refusal to deliver him up to the Czar, were threatened by that potentate with war. Reluctantly his hosts were compelled to request their luckless guest to seek another asylum, but on his departure they made him handsome presents, and had him safely and honourably escorted to the seaport of Riga.

The innocent impostor, as he has been termed, now made his way to Sweden, but political reasons drove him quickly thence, and he next sought safety with the Duke of Holstein Gottorp. He met with a friendly reception, but the fates had timed his visit at a most inopportune moment. The Duke had recently negotiated a treaty of commerce with the Czar, and while engaged on the embassy, Eurchmann, one of his envoys, had pledged his master's credit, without his authority, for a large sum of money, variously stated at one hundred thousand and three hundred thousand crowns; for which misdeed, upon his return to Holstein, he was decapitated. The Duke was, or appeared to be, in a state of embarrassment as to the liquidation of the debt, when a Russian agent, who was residing at Lubeck, and knew the value of the claimant to the Russian Czar, opened negotiations with Holstein's ruler, and, pretending to the only too willing prince that his guest was merely a common impostor, arranged for his delivery to Alexis in exchange for the receipts of the money brought away and owed for by his envoy. This is the common account of the nefarious transaction, but in all probability the whole affair had been previously arranged between the two sovereigns, and Eurchmann and Demetrius were the victims of the royal plot.

Be the truth what it may, suffices to say that the Duke of Holstein seized Demetrius, and delivered him up to the Russians sent to receive him, obtaining in return the bills for the money owing. The unfortunate man was hurried on board a vessel, transported to the Russian coast, and taken thence by rapid stages to Moscow. Directly he arrived in the metropolis the captive had a wooden gag forced into his mouth to prevent him speaking, and was confronted by an old woman, bribed for the purpose, who declared herself to be his mother, and upbraided him for unnatural ingratitude to her, and his presumption in disowning his parent; finally, desiring him to avow his misdeeds, and not to let her endure the misery of beholding him executed for his imposture.

Averting his head, Demetrius showed plainly by significant gestures that he neither acknowledged her claims, nor heeded them; whilst to the priests, who addressed him in a similar strain, and urged him to confess his imposture, he simply responded by uplifting his eyes and hands towards heaven, as if resigning himself to its decree. The unhappy man was then taken out on to the great esplanade in front of the castle of Moscow, and there executed on the 31st of December, 1653, in the forty-seventh year of his age.

The Czar Alexis was not contented with the mere death of his hapless rival, but had his head severed from his body, which was quartered and elevated upon four poles, whilst portions of his remains were left scattered on the frozen ground as a repast for the dogs. The Polish ambassador, who that same day had audience of the vindictive Emperor, was conducted to the place of execution, and shown all that now remained of the unfortunate being whom his late master had so delighted to honour.

The biographer of this pseudo Demetrius finds no little pleasure in recording that the Russian agent who negotiated the sale of our hero met with a miserable death, "in punishment for causing innocent blood to be shed;" that John Casimir, the King of Poland, who first drove him from his place of safety, was obliged to abdicate his throne, and that the Duke of Holstein was despoiled of his domains by his brother-in-law, Christian the Fifth of Denmark. He moreover records the general opinion that unless the execution of Demetrius had taken place as quickly as it did--that had it only been delayed for two hours--the populace would have risen against Alexis to despoil him of his kingdom, and place his victim on the throne in his stead.

It is a somewhat more agreeable pendant to this wretched story to know that the old companion in misfortune of Demetrius, the nephew of the Grand Khan of Tartary, ultimately succeeded to the throne of his uncle, and that he seized every occasion of expressing his hatred of John Casimir for having abandoned the beloved _protege_ of his brother Vladislas.

THE FALSE ZAGA CHRIST, OF ABYSSINIA.

A.D.1635.

The extremely romantic and improbable story of this _soi disant_ prince is derived from the highly interesting work of De Rocoles; but unsupported, as would appear to be the case, by any evidence beyond the verbal testimony of the claimant himself, it may be safely regarded as purely fictitious. Nevertheless, the fact that his pretensions to royalty were, to some extent, recognized in various parts of Europe, entitles him to a place here.

According to De Rocoles, and the monks who favoured the pretender's story, his father Jacob had reigned peaceably over Abyssinia for seven years, when, having allowed it to transpire that he proposed extirpating the Roman Catholics, Susneos, a cousin of his, who had leagued himself with that body, availed himself of the pretext to commence a civil war; and the result of it, in 1608, was the defeat and death of Jacob, and the usurpation of the crown by the victor. The deceased monarch left two sons--Cosme, aged eighteen; and Zaga Christ, or _The Treasure of Christ_, aged sixteen.

At the time of their father's death the two princes were at Aich, in the Isle of Merse, where they resided for educational purposes. The new Emperor, beginning his reign by putting several of his predecessor's adherents to death, caused Jacob's widow to fear for the safety of her sons; she therefore sent trusty messengers to them with a quantity of gold and precious stones, and bid them quit the country for a more secure asylum until their friends had rallied sufficiently to recover them their patrimony. Acting on this advice, the two princes forsook Aich; Cosme going in a southerly direction, by which route, it is asserted, he ultimately reached the Cape of Good Hope; and Zaga Christ going northwards.

Traversing the kingdom of Senaar, which was alleged to have been tributary to his father, Zaga continued his journey to Tungi, where Orbat, a pagan monarch, reigned. This king, who also was a vassal of the Abyssinian ruler, received the fugitive prince with great honours, and for some months entertained him magnificently, having conceived the design of giving him his daughter in marriage, and assisting him to regain his father's dominions. The claimant, according to his own account, declined the proffered honour because the princess was an idolater. This rare example of royal abstinence naturally enraged Orbat, who threw his guest into prison, and sent to inform the usurper that Zaga was a captive in his hands.

As soon as he received this intelligence, Susneos sent a company of guards to Orbat's capital to take possession of his young relative. Zaga, however, being warned by a friendly Venetian, who was serving under the usurper, managed, or was permitted, to elude his captors, and, accompanied by a large body of followers, after a series of dangerous adventures contrived to reach a portion of the Turkish domain. Desirous of traversing Arabia Deserta, with a view of reaching Egypt, the young wanderer now dismissed all his followers with the exception of fifty, who elected to share his dangers. A few days after this little band had penetrated into the desert, the greater portion of its baggage was stolen by a native chieftain; and some days later, in seeking for water, fifteen out of the fifty men were lost through the giving way of the cistern walls. After a tedious and trying passage, however, the devoted band succeeded in reaching a small town on the Egyptian frontiers.

After a rest of three months, the young pretender pursued his journey to Cairo, where a large body of his countrymen and co-religionists resided. Zaga was enthusiastically received by his compatriots, whilst the Turkish pacha, or governor of the city, treated him with every respect, and for several days even lodged him in his own palace. After a short stay at Cairo, the young prince started for Jerusalem, taking with him only fifteen servitors, the remainder electing to stay with their brethren in Egypt. A large number of pilgrims also accompanied the caravan, which reached the Holy City safely about Lent, 1632.

The _soi disant_ prince, followed by all his adherents, took up his abode with the Abyssinian priests then resident in Jerusalem. His servants, who appeared to treat him with immense deference, are described at this stage of his adventures. They are represented as great black men, attired in blue cotton shirts, wound round with yellow _bouracan_, six or eight yards long by one wide, and with turbans of check silk. Attended by these men, Zaga called on the pacha of Jerusalem to pay his respects, and in the same style honoured with his presence, during Holy Week, the ceremonies performed at the Holy Sepulchre by the Christians. After having spent some time in Jerusalem, he began to imbibe conscientious scruples as to the Abyssinian forms of Christianity, and at last requested the chief Roman Catholic priest in the city to receive him into the communion of that Church. This, however, was refused, the Catholics fearing that the pacha might take umbrage at so important a conversion, and make use of it to instigate a persecution against them. Nevertheless, desirous of not losing so exalted a convert, the priests persuaded Zaga Christ to quit the Holy City secretly, and, accompanied by some other pilgrims and the two or three servants who still followed his fortunes, to repair to Nazareth, where he would have perfect liberty to make his profession, the place being under the domination of Emir Fechraddin, an independent chief.

On the second Thursday after Easter, 1632, the _soi disant_ prince arrived in Nazareth, and resided there until September of the same year; during which time he learnt to read, write, and speak a little French and Italian. It is stated that after Zaga had spent a few days at the Convent of Nazareth, the said religious house was visited by an Armenian bishop and his train, who were returning from solemnizing Easter at Jerusalem. The prince, meeting the ecclesiastic in the church, reproached him bitterly for teaching his countrymen such manifold lies and errors, such as that the sacred fire at the Holy City was sent from heaven instead of being merely ignited with a common flint, and so forth. The priest left Zaga without being able to make any reply; but in revenge for the affront he had received, he went to the prince's few remaining followers, informed them that their master had determined to pass into Europe and become a Roman Catholic, and warned them against accompanying the heretic; as Europe was, he told them, a country of perpetual frost and snow, where natives of warmer climes would speedily die, even if they escaped being captured by the corsairs, and sold as galley-slaves, whilst on the journey. Moreover, he threatened them with excommunication if they continued to associate with such a renegade to the true and pure faith.

Thus frightened, the poor Abyssinians went to their master, and represented to him that they should have to quit him if he determined to leave for Europe, as they neither wished to be frozen to death nor made galley-slaves of. Their master wept at this discourse, and reproached them for their idea of abandoning him after having so long shared his fortunes; they, the only three left out of all those who had left Abyssinia with him. He pointed out to them that if they went with him they would only have the same risks he would have himself of dying through cold, or of being sold into slavery; and that it would be far better for them to live amongst fellow-Christians than with Mohammedans, who might any day massacre them all. They were much afflicted at their master's grief, but the persuasions of the cunning Armenian were too much for them; they abandoned their master to his fate, and followed the priest to Aleppo, where two of them died, and the third returned to Jerusalem.

Thus left alone, Zaga took up his abode in the convent, where he finally abjured the heresies of the Abyssinian Church, and, on St. Peter's Day, 1632, received communion and absolution in the Catholic faith. During the five months that the prince was residing at Nazareth he was the subject of ceaseless plots and schemes, in which the Abyssinians at Jerusalem took the chief part. They tried, under various pretexts, to persuade the pacha of that city to obtain possession of Zaga; but as the convent was under the protection of a friendly chief, the Emir Fechraddin, he would not undertake or permit the expedition; and at last the prince, in obedience to an invitation from the Pope, crossed over to Italy, and was received at Rome with great magnificence, the head of the Church placing a palace at his disposal.

For two years the supposed prince was hospitably entertained in the Eternal City, and at the end of that time he accepted the invitation of the Duke de Cregui, the French ambassador, to visit France. Zaga made the journey, and for three more years resided in Paris, caressed and supported by the French. Going to Ruel, a village near the capital, to pay his court to Cardinal Richelieu, he was attacked by pleurisy, and died there in 1638, at the age of about twenty-eight years. He had been supported royally during his residence in France, and now, at his death, was interred by the side of a prince of Portugal, and a monument erected over his remains. The epitaph, however, placed upon the tomb of our _soi disant_ prince, expressed public opinion faithfully by doubting the justness of his claims to royal lineage.

THE FALSE IBRAHIM OF TURKEY.

A.D. 1644.

The story of this pseudo prince is no less romantic than those of the other claimants mentioned in this work, but it differs from most of them inasmuch as the hero of it was an innocent victim rather than a conscious impostor. His history has been variously stated, some works asserting that the man was the eldest son of the Sultan Ibrahim of Turkey, and elder brother of Mehemet the Fourth, whilst others, including De Rocoles (the chief authority for our version) describe him as the illegitimate child of some unknown personage.

Tumbel Aga, according to the account given by De Rocoles, was chief of the eunuchs to the Sultan Ibrahim, as he had also been to his predecessor, Sultan Amurath. Having had occasionally to employ a certain well-known merchant of Constantinople, named Cesi, to execute various commissions for the imperial seraglio, he fancied he might entrust him with a delicate matter on his own behalf, and accordingly favoured him with instructions to procure him as pretty and modest a maiden as he could purchase in the market, regardless of cost. It is, of course, difficult to say what the Aga's object was in giving so strange a commission to Cesi, nor is it material to the story to know whether the girl was to be presented to the Sultan as a gift, or whether she was to be retained as an ornament for Tumbel's own abode. The merchant speedily informed the would-be purchaser that he had obtained a girl--a Russian, named Sciabas--who was as modest as she was beautiful. Delighted at this intelligence, the Aga paid the price demanded, and had his purchase sent to his rooms. Her beauty and manners were everything that could be desired, but Tumbel had not long had his purchase home before he discovered that she was likely to increase his household in a way neither wished for nor calculated upon. Indignant at the deception which had been practised upon him, but probably somewhat softened by the beautiful captive's manner, the old Aga pretended to chase her out of the seraglio, but meanwhile gave private orders that she should be cared for in every respect.

About five or six months after the _accouchement_ of Sciabas, her master paid her a visit, and was so charmed with the beauty of her child, a handsome boy--or, what is more probable, fancied he should be enabled to recoup himself for his expenditure by the sale of both mother and infant--that he ordered every care to be taken of them. All his efforts to discover the paternity of the boy were useless; Sciabas would not gratify his curiosity, and nobody else, apparently, could.

About this time the Sultana presented her husband with a boy, for whom the Aga was instructed to procure a nurse. He recommended Sciabas, doubtless to repay himself for his outlay, and, accordingly, the young Russian and her baby took up their abode in the imperial apartments, where, indeed, they continued to live for about two years. The child of Sciabas inherited not only her beauty, but also her gentle temper; in which he contrasted so favourably with young Mehemet, the Grand Sultana's child, that the Sultan noticed the difference, and began to display a preference for it over his own offspring. The wife speedily discovered this alienation of the Sultan's affection, and not only vented her rage on the innocent objects of it, whom she ejected from the imperial apartments, but determined to avenge herself, on the first convenient opportunity, upon the Aga for having introduced them. Tumbel was not slow in perceiving his danger, and in order to escape it, requested the Sultan to allow him to make a pilgrimage to Mecca, doubtless not intending to return to Constantinople. Ibrahim was loath to let him go, as he greatly valued his services, and, according to the custom of the Ottoman court, the slave who is permitted by the Sultan to make this sacred journey becomes a free man, and is assigned an annual pension. Nothing daunted by refusal, Tumbel renewed his request, offering to go as a captive, promising that on his return he would resume his duties at the seraglio. Ultimately the Sultan gave his consent, and the Aga made grand preparations for his journey.

When everything was ready, Tumbel embarked on board a vessel bound for Alexandria, taking with him, among other valuable possessions, Sciabas and her beautiful child. After various adventures their vessel got separated from its convoy, and was attacked by six Maltese cruisers. Headed by the Aga, the Mohammedans made a gallant resistance; but their master being killed by a cannon-ball, they surrendered at discretion. When the Maltese boarded their prize, their cupidity was gratified by the richness of the cargo; they found Sciabas dead, apparently of fright, and her handsome little boy playing about, unconscious of the danger of his situation. Surprised by his beauty, and the magnificence of his garb, they inquired as to his parentage, and their captives, hoping probably to obtain better treatment for themselves if they exaggerated the value of the prize, declared that the child was Sultan Ibrahim's eldest son, whom they were escorting to Mecca, to have him circumcised. The victors greedily swallowed this tale, and, delighted with their good fortune, set sail for Malta, where they no sooner arrived than they noised abroad the capture they had made of the Grand Sultana and the Sultan's eldest son. The joyful intelligence was spread through all Christendom, and caused such excitement that portraits of the mother and child were extensively sold all over Europe. So highly was their prize valued, that the Knights of St. John talked of proposing the return of the Isle of Rhodes, which had been won from their enfeebled grasp by the Turks, as a ransom for the child and its mother; for they concealed the fact that she was dead, and substituted a slave in her stead. Letters were sent to Ibrahim to inform him of the capture of his wife and child; but as a long time elapsed and he vouchsafed no reply, the Maltese began to question the identity and value of their little captive, who, in the meantime, had been treated with regal attention. Finally, in 1649, they were enabled to make positive inquiries in Constantinople, by means of a certain Master Pietro, who knew Turkish; and were intensely chagrined to learn that the Grand Sultana and her eldest boy were both comfortably located in the Mohammedan capital, whence, indeed, they had never departed. This intelligence caused the grandees of Malta to treat their youthful charge with less consideration; but as they did not desire to become the laughing-stock of Europe, they concealed the truth, and allowed the world to remain in ignorance of it. As for the son of Sciabas, he was christened with the name of Ottoman, and consigned to a monastery in Italy. When the young Turk grew up, he was treated with no slight amount of consideration by many persons who believed in his royal parentage, and as "Father Ottoman" was considered a shining light by his fellow Dominicans.

MAHOMET BEY, PRETENDED TURKISH PRINCE.

A.D. 1668.

In 1668 a work appeared in France, with a license from the King, to whom it was dedicated, bearing for title, _Histoire de Mahomet Bey, ou de Jean Michel Cigale, Prince du Sang Ottoman, Basha et Plenipotentaire Souverain de Jerusalem, du Royaume de Cypre, de Trebizonde_, etc. This work, which purported to contain the veritable adventures of its author, was the production of a man declaring himself to be descended from the illustrious Cigalas of Sicily, and who cited several passages from various authors to prove that his family had intermarried with most of the royal families of Europe. His own immediate parentage was ascribed to Scipio, son of that famous Viscount Cigala who was taken prisoner by the Turks in 1561, just after Andrew Doria's grand victory over them. Scipio, having been captured with his father, according to this book's account was taken to Constantinople, and in order to ingratiate himself with the Sultan, Solyman the Magnificent, adopted Mohammedanism, and was rewarded with the post of generalissimo of the army, and the hand of a royal princess. Mahomet Bey, said the veritable history, was the result of this illustrious alliance. Having received a princely education, Mahomet, according to his book, was made Viceroy of Palestine; and whilst in the Holy Land was so impressed by a miraculous vision that he determined to become a Christian, and abandoned the intention he had of pillaging the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem. Obliged for the present to disguise his conversion, he was advanced to the governorship of the Isle of Cyprus, and made general of the army destined for the conquest of Candia. During the two following years he contrived to hear mass, befriend and deliver several Christians from slavery, and perform various notable deeds, of which, strange to say, no one had heard until he published this wonderful book. The Sultan now assigned to him the sovereignty of Babylon, Caramania, Magnesia, and numerous other provinces; but on his way to take possession of his new domains he was favoured with another miraculous vision, of a very singular character, which thoroughly confirmed him in his Christianity. Other marvels followed; but the Jesuit dying to whom he had confided his idea of renouncing his high duties and becoming a Christian, his public renunciation had to be deferred. Returning to Constantinople, he was compelled to accept the Viceroyalty of Trebizond, and the Governor-Generalship of the Black Sea. On arrival at his new post, he collected all his valuables and confided them to an envoy named Chamonsi, with instructions to carry them into Moldavia, and there await his employer's arrival, he having determined to abandon the Mohammedan territory and faith at the same time. Betrayed and robbed by his faithless messenger, he was set upon by a party deputed by the Governor of Moldavia to seize him; but after having performed prodigies of valour, only equalled by those of Baron Muenchausen, he succeeded in killing all his assailants, and escaping in the borrowed garb of a peasant.

Reduced from his princely rank to the condition of a penniless wanderer, but still bent on becoming a professed Christian, Mahomet crossed the frontiers and made his way to the Cossacks, then at war with Russia. In the Cossack army, runs his tale, he discovered three soldiers whom he had released from captivity in former times. These men recognized their deliverer, and making known his quality to their chiefs, he was treated with respect, and invited to honour their country by receiving baptism in it. But Mahomet had resolved to make his profession of the Christian faith in the city of Rome, and to receive the sacrament from the Pope's own hands. On learning this resolve, the Cossacks, who were schismatics, became so unfriendly that he was forced to fly their country, and take refuge in Poland. There he received a very kindly reception from the Queen, Maria Gonzaga, and became so impressed with her friendliness that he yielded to her persuasions, and was baptized by the name of John in the Cathedral of Warsaw. From Poland, according to his own story, he proceeded to Rome, where the Pope no sooner heard of his arrival than he gave him audience; and having heard his adventures, bestowed his apostolic benediction upon him. Still influenced by the kindness of the Polish Queen, he returned to Warsaw, deviating somewhat from the way, however, in order to assist the Emperor of Germany against the Turks. To display his zeal for Christianity, Mahomet tells his readers he encountered and slew the Turkish general in single combat, and performed such feats of daring, that had we not his own testimony for their truthfulness, they would not be deemed credible.

The great things he had done for the German Emperor procured for him from that potentate the post of guardian-captain of his artillery, but that was not a sufficient inducement to retain him at Vienna; so, peace being concluded, he departed for Sicily, to find out some of his relatives and their allies. As a scion of the illustrious house of Cigala, he was received with royal honours by the Viceroy of the island, as he was later on by the Viceroy of Naples, according to his own veracious story. After being feted by the nobility of this latter kingdom he revisited Rome, and was highly honoured by the new Pope, Clement the Ninth, who introduced him to everybody of note. After various adventures he finally reached Paris, where the King and chief members of the Court exerted themselves to the utmost in order to pay him every respect and attention. A palace was provided for him, and when he left the country chains of gold and medallions of the King and Queen were presented to him.

Such is the history of the life and adventures of Mahomet Bey as detailed by himself. A very different account is that given of him by John Evelyn, author of the _Diary_, and other patient investigators. According to their story, this pretended member of the chief royal families of Europe was the son of an opulent citizen of Trogovisti, a town of Wallachia. Prince Matthias, of Moldavia, who had held the claimant's father in much esteem, when he died took his son into his service, and sent him on a mission to Constantinople. When he returned home an honourable career was open to him, but he took to such disreputable courses that, had he not been warned in time to take to flight, he would probably have ended his adventures on the gallows. A second visit to Constantinople, this time as a fugitive from justice, did not improve his morality. He resided in the Turkish capital until the death of Prince Matthias, when he returned to Wallachia; but receiving unequivocal proofs that his past offences were not forgotten, he deemed it prudent to retire once more to Constantinople, where he renounced Christianity for the usual pecuniary recompense. Unable to make much progress with the Turks, or finding the neighbourhood growing too hot to be pleasant, he started on his travels through Christendom. By pretending that he had resigned his Mohammedan honours in order to embrace Christianity, this _soi disant_ scion of the Ottoman royal family often obtained aid and protection from various dupes. Finally he came to England, and presented a copy of his mythical history to the King. For some time he was received at Court, but eventually some high personage who had seen him at Vienna, and knew something of his true history, exposed his imposture. The last that is known of this pretender is that he was drawing an annual pension from the imperial treasures at Vienna in his old character of a Mohammedan prince converted to Christianity.

THE FALSE HERCULES D'ESTE OF MODENA.

A.D. 1747.

In 1747 a young man of elegant appearance arrived at Rochelle, in France. He was accompanied by an elderly person, who, from his studious care of his young companion, appeared to be his tutor. They took apartments in a quiet house, and furnished them in a moderate manner at their own expense. The avowed object of their visit to this French seaport was to procure a passage for the younger of the two to some foreign port; but owing to the difficulty of evading the English cruisers--the two nations then being at war with each other--it was a long time before a vessel would put to sea. Ultimately, a passage was taken on board a small merchantman bound for Martinique, and the youth and man prepared to embark. When leaving his apartments, the landlady enquired what was to be done with the furniture, and was told, with a gracious smile, by the younger of the twain, to keep it as a souvenir of him.

The elderly personage then parted from his young companion, who embarked on board the West Indian merchantman, whither his reputation had, apparently, preceded him. Instinctively the captain and crew recognized the fact that they had an important personage on board, and therefore did all that they could to let him see they knew it. The elder man, who had taken a passage for the youth, had vouchsafed no further information to the captain than that his passenger was a person of distinction, whose friends would one day gratefully repay any attention paid to him; but that was sufficient to procure him every attention. At one time he was enabled to do the crew a service, which certainly increased their respect for him. Alarmed by English cruisers, nearly all the crew had taken to the shallop, and had hurried off so quickly that no provisions had been taken with them; consequently they were soon starving. The young passenger, however, purchased a quantity of refreshments from a native boat that came out to them, and shared it equally amongst all on board. They got back safely to their ship, but the youth was taken with an illness, during which he repaid their anxious inquiries and attentions more with a courteous hauteur than with gratitude. He appeared to shrink from all familiarity, but, as it was necessary that he should have an attendant during his illness, he selected a young sailor of about his own age, named Rhodez, who was respectably connected, and fairly well educated. Rhodez, with whom the youthful stranger became somewhat more confiding than he had been with the others, stated that their passenger was Count de Tarnaud, son of a field-marshal; but this scarcely satisfied the inquisitive, who grew more mystified daily as they beheld the great deference with which the confidant treated the interesting invalid.

On arrival off Martinique, the port was found to be too strictly blockaded by the English cruisers to be entered; and, to save themselves from capture, all had to take to the boats, and by abandoning their ship and cargo, contrived to land safely, but destitute. The supposed count did not appear much grieved at his misfortune, but, attended by Rhodez, at once put up at the best establishment he could discover. The attentions of his host, Ferrol, he accepted as a matter of course, and behaved with such mysterious assumption of grandeur, that the household at once put him down as a prince in disguise. Rhodez could not, or would not, afford any further information than is already known, which it may be well imagined had been thoroughly circulated through the place by the Count's fellow-passengers. Rumours spread rapidly, and at last attained such dimensions that the commandant of the port thought it high time to make the mysterious stranger's personal acquaintance. He invited the _soi disant_ count to his house, and his invitation was accepted. Attended by the useful Rhodez, the unknown removed to the commandant's dwelling, and by a certain incident at the very first meal he partook of there, contrived to impress his new host with an idea of his importance. On sitting down to dine, he found that he required a handkerchief, whereupon Rhodez got up and brought him one. This surprised the company present, as at that time, as Rhodez knew well, it was not only unusual, but even considered dishonourable, for one white man to wait upon another. Whilst everybody was in a state of perplexity at this incident, a note from Ferrol was handed to the commandant, wherein it stated: "You wish for information relative to the passenger who lodged with me for some days; his signature will furnish more than I am able to give. I enclose you a letter I have just received from him." This letter, written in a schoolboy hand and badly worded, contained a few words of thanks for Ferrol's services, and was signed "Este," and not Tarnaud. Here was more mystery. All kinds of persons and books were consulted in order to solve the enigma; and at last, by means of an almanac, the youthful stranger was identified as Hercules Renaud D'Este, hereditary Prince of Modena, and brother of the Duchess de Penthievre. This discovery, which was substantiated by the testimony of two officers of somewhat shady reputation, but who were reputed to have seen the young prince in Europe, was quickly noised about, and the stranger's health was drunk to a full accompaniment of all his supposed titles. The _soi disant_ "count" appeared to be extremely annoyed at this discovery, having, so it seemed, signed the note with his real name inadvertently; and although he did not deny the rank imputed to him, the disclosure appeared to excite his haughty displeasure.

After a time, becoming accustomed to the loyal recognition of the people, the supposed prince interested himself warmly in the interests of the natives. Owing to the strict blockade maintained by the English, supplies from the neighbouring islands became scarcer and dearer; and, to make matters worse, had to be obtained through the intervention of certain monopolists, of whom the Marquis de Caylus, the Governor of the Windward Islands himself, was the chief. The Commandant at Martinique, who hated the Marquis, sided with the people in their murmurs, and sought to interest his princely guest in their complaints. The youthful scion of royalty declared himself indignant against the monopolists, and swore to put an end to their exactions; which being duly reported, rendered him more popular than ever.

News of all these things coming to the Governor's ears, he began to grow uneasy, and, to judge for himself, invited the "Count de Tarnaud" to visit him; but received for answer, that although to the rest of the world the stranger might be the Count de Tarnaud, to the Marquis de Caylus he was Hercules Renaud d'Este. "If he desires to see me," said his highness, "let him repair to Fort Royal, which is half way, and in four or five days I shall be there." At first the Governor was so impressed by this imperative style, and the reports which his emissaries brought him, that he started for Fort Royal, but growing sceptical, he retraced his steps. Not finding him at the appointed place, "the prince," attended by quite a retinue of gentlemen, proceeded to Fort St. Pierre, where the Governor beheld him from a window, and exclaiming that he was the exact image of his royal mother and sister, left the place in a panic and repaired to Fort Royal.

After this his "highness" threw off all further reserve, assumed the honours of his position, appointed a household and a suite of attendants, and accepted, without reserve, the generous hospitality of the inhabitants. As might be expected from his youth and exalted birth, he never denied himself the gratification of a whim, and joined in all the maddening dissipation of the place. One remarkable thing was noticed, and that was, that whatever frolic or excess he joined in he never forgot his dignity of prince, and so continued to command the respect of his companions. At first he must have suffered much inconvenience from the fact that although hospitably entertained from the moment of his arrival, he had landed in the island without a coin in his pocket; but his good fortune soon remedied this defect. The Duke de Penthievre had a large property in the island, and his agent, hearing of the awkward position in which the young prince, his employer's brother-in-law, was placed, very friendlily put the funds in hand at his disposal. His highness graciously accepted this useful offer, and henceforward was enabled to pay his way with royal regularity.