Everything which the insane Feriz had prophesied in the Divan was literally fulfilled.
The Turkish armies were everywhere routed. They lost the fortresses of Grand Visegrad and Érsekújvár one after the other. The fortress of Nógrád was struck by lightning, which fired the powder-magazine and blew up the garrison. Finally Buda was besieged and captured in the sight of the Grand Vizier, and after a domination of one hundred and fifty years, the half-moons were hauled down from the bastions and crosses re-occupied their places.
And all those who were present at the Divan fulfilled, one by one, the prophecy that they should see Paradise before long.
Rislán Pasha fell beneath the walls of Buda at the head of the Janissaries, the Vizier of Buda was throttled by order of Kara Mustafa after the battle was lost, Rifa Aga was drowned in the Danube among the fugitives, Kara Ogli fell defending the ramparts of Buda, Tököly killed Ajas Pasha at the Sultan’s command; and, after the fall of Buda, Olaj Beg brought to Kara Mustafa for his own use the silken cord and the purple purse. It was the last purse which Kara Mustafa ever saw, for after his decapitation his head was put inside it.
And, finally, the people of Stambul, maddened by so many losses and reinforced by the rebellious Janissaries, rushed upon the Seraglio, cut down the counsellors of the Sultan, and threw the Sultan himself into the same dungeon in which he had let his own brother languish for thirty-nine years. The brother was now set on the throne, and the dethroned Sultan died in the dungeon.
And this also was fulfilled that those who had stirred up the Turks to begin the war turned against them at the end of it. Transylvania deposited its oath of homage in the hands of Caraffa, and Michael Teleki, who became a Count of the Holy Roman Empire, opened the gates of the towns and fortresses to German garrisons. The Prince paid the victors thirteen thousand florins, which it took heavy wagons two weeks to convey from Fogaras to Nagyszeben. But Michael Teleki, in addition to his countly escutcheon, got a present of a silver table service which cost ten thousand florins. So Transylvania became imperial territory, and its alliance with the Porte was dissolved.
And then it was that God called to Himself the last lovable figure in our history, the virtuous and magnanimous Anna Bornemissza.
Only after her death did Apafi feel what his wife had been to him, his guardian-angel, his consoler in all his sorrows, the brightest part of his life, and when that light set, everything around him was doubly dark. Every misfortune, every trouble, now weighed doubly heavy on his mind and heart; he had no longer any refuge against persecuting sorrow. He fled from one town to another like a hunted wild beast which can find no refuge from the dart which transfixes it. At last he barricaded himself in his room, which he did not quit for six weeks; and if visitors came to see him he complained to them like a child:
“I am starving to death. I have lost everything. It is a year since I got a farthing from my estates or my mines or my saltworks. If the farrier comes I cannot pay him his bill for my mantle, for I haven’t got a stiver. What will become of my son when I am gone, poor little Prince? There’s not enough to send him to school.”
He began to get quite crazy, and could neither eat, drink, nor sleep. The whole day he would stride up and down his room, and utter strange things in a loud voice. What troubled him most was that he must die of hunger.
At last those about him hit upon a remedy. Every day they laid purses of money before him and said: “This sum Stephen Apor has sent from your property, and that amount Paul Inezedi has collected from your saltworks. Why should your Highness be anxious when there is such lots of money?”
And the next day they presented the same purses to him over again, and invented some fresh story. And this simple deceit somewhat pacified the poor old man, but the old worries had so affected his mind, never very strong at any time, that he could never recover his former spirits. He grew duller and more stupid every day, and often when he lay down he would sleep a couple of days at a stretch.
And at last the Almighty had mercy upon him and called him away from this vale of tears; and he went to that land where the Turks plunder not, and there is no warfare.
XXXI
The Newly-Drawn Sword
The German armies were now in complete possession of Transylvania, the Turks were everywhere driven back and trampled down, the hereditary Prince of Bavaria took Belgrade by storm and put twelve thousand Janissaries to the edge of the sword. Thus the gate of the Turkish Empire was broken open, and the victoriously advancing host, under the Prince of Baden, crushed the remains of the Turkish army at Nish. Then Bulgaria and Albania were subjugated, the sea shore was reached, and only the Haemus Mountains stood between the invaders and Stambul.
The deluge left nothing untouched, even little Wallachia, whose fortunate situation, wild mountains, and villainous roads had hitherto saved it from invasion, saw the approach of the conquering banners.
Old S⸺ was still the Prince, and he now gave a brilliant example of the dexterity of Wallachian diplomacy, which at the same time illustrates the simplicity of his character.
The armies invading Wallachia were entrusted to the care of General Heissler, who consequently wrote to Prince S⸺ informing him that he was advancing on Bucharest through the Transylvanian
