Charles XII - King of Sweden

Carl Klingspor

• Publisher: Jovian Press
• Year: 2017
• eBook ISBN: 9781537802503
• Topic: Personal Development
• Subtopic: Travel

Two centuries ago when the kingdoms of Northern Europe were struggling for supremacy on the Baltic and control of the narrow portal to the sea, there appeared a young prince, the marvel of his age, who made himself the arbiter of these kingdoms and of their rulers. The military successes of Charles the Twelfth of Sweden even forced obsequious consultation from the greater nations beyond the fields of his conquest.

THE KALABALIK

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THE KHAN OF THE TARTARS, the Grand Vizier, and the Seraskier of Bender did now set about in earnest to force His Majesty’s journey through those lands where he must, through their joint villainy, fall into the hands of his enemies. Between them, their influence and cunning was such that they finally succeeded in poisoning the Sultan’s mind and turning his heart against King Charles.

Even as the Sobieski princes had been decoyed by King Augustus, so was His Majesty to be betrayed by the Khan and Seraskier into the hands of one of King Augustus’s generals, de Siniawski, and great were the riches which were thereafter to be conferred on these Turkish Judases.

The Sultan threw poor Funck into a dark and horrible prison and summoned a great divan which he addressed in this manner:—

Scarcely had I known of the existence of the King of Sweden before his defeat at Poltava when he implored me to grant him an asylum in my empire. I have not, I believe, any need of him, nor have I reason to love or to fear him. Without however consulting other motives than those of a Mussulman’s hospitality and generosity, which spread the blessings of their favors on both great and small, I have received this King, and given him succor in all things, as well as also his ministers, his officers, his soldiers and his people, and for three years and a half have I ceaselessly loaded them with gifts. I have given him an escort with which he might pass to his own lands, as well as the necessary horses, chariots and supplies. This King asked me for a thousand purses, in order to make necessary payments, but I sent unto him twelve hundred purses. After having received them from the hands of my Seraskier at Bender, did he demand a thousand more, and seeking every pretext and excuse, this Prince does now state to my Sublime Porte that his escort is too small, when on the contrary it is too large. Is it now against the laws of hospitality to oblige this Prince to keep his word, and if he will not leave our empire with good words, to force him thereto?

To this did the divan answer: No! To Bender word was sent that His Majesty must pack and leave forthwith, with the army of two thousand janissaries, twelve thousand Turks and Tartars, and fourteen cannon. With them the janissaries brought small red, blue, yellow, and white banners, as also a very large one of blood-red color, as a sign that they would follow our little band till the last drop of their blood had been spilled.

Now did one after the other come to His Majesty to urge upon him the folly of resisting and the hopelessness of further disobeying the mandate of the Sultan. The Seraskier comes and informs His Majesty that if he will not leave with conduct and complaisance he must turn him out forcibly and place him upon French vessels now riding at anchor in Salonica Bay.

The foreign ambassadors did also arrive and humbly implore his gracious Majesty but this once in his life to listen to their prayers, prompted by naught but their great affection for him and interest for his cause and that of humanity. The Baron de Fabrice did even so far forget himself in the course of his pleading that he finally replied unto His Majesty: “Well, Sire, if Your Majesty will not follow what is dictated by religion, reason and your own glory, I have nothing more to do here and I withdraw my person.” His Majesty, however, instead of giving the well-merited rebuke, replied, with much sweetness, that it was neither the time nor place to part in anger. “I know well what I am doing,” concluded His Majesty. “It is best we defend ourselves like brave men; believe me, it matters but little that they shoot, that is but fiddle-faddle, they only wish to frighten us into their power. First will our salvos be heard, and then shall we come fairly to hands with them; spite of all, they shall not defeat us.”

Thus did his high courage never leave him, nor what he believed worthy a king. In adversity as in prosperity was he equally master of whate’er befell him.

The Kalabalik, or lion-hunt, as it was ever after called amid the Turks, was now going forward. Presently did His Majesty take all manner of precautions to prepare our little camp as best he might for the coming assault, meanwhile riding out daily with but small retinue amid the Tartars, who dared not touch him, as well as among the janissaries, who would not. The Polish magnates, seeing the gathering storm, stole away, leaving but six hundred or thereabouts of their men. The ground was hard frozen, it being in the month of February, so we could neither dig trenches nor build regular breastworks, or barricades, but were commanded to make these of wagons, carts, tables, and beams, mixed, whereever possible, with the dung collected from our animals during several years.

The Turkish generals, seeing there would be fighting in earnest and that His Majesty refused point-blank to submit with fair means, did now give orders to withdraw our honorary corps of janissaries as well as to stop all food hitherto brought to our camp by the merchants and Jews. The Sultan had however commanded that no affront be offered His Majesty’s person—they should have respect to its sanctity and, when taken, conduct it with all honor and care to Adrianople.

All those who have any knowledge of the greatness of a pasha of the horse-tails and the governor of several provinces, may readily divine how great was the rage of the Seraskier when he saw the boldness of King Charles, who, taking no notice of his commands, defied him within his own province. His imagination was already set on fire at the thought of the extraordinary battle which was about to be fought.

Many of our officers were now ordered to leave the quarters they had occupied for several years and move close up to the walls of the stone house where were His Majesty’s quarters. Among them was His Majesty’s surgeon-in-ordinary, Doctor Samuel von Schraggenstiena, highly displeased that, nolens volens, he must abandon his comfortable rooms shaded by spreading green trees. So hastily was he forced to move that he must leave behind him many precious objects and medicaments, among which were two great copper vessels, each of twenty measures, filled with pleasanttasting water. On his way to the royal quarters there met him a Tartar morsa, or colonel, with whom he had long been acquainted, and whose son he had cured of a perilous ailment. He now gave a warning to this colonel, telling of the two copper casks which he must leave behind because of their great weight, and that his people should not drink of their contents or they might die of too great purging. This Tartar morsa, who knew the royal surgeon to be a skilful and honorable man, who would use no deception, did therefore repeat all he said to his people. Despite all these warnings, however, as soon as upon their entrance into the surgeon’s quarters they beheld the two casks as well as the many valuables left perforce behind, they must smell and taste the water; this proved so delightful to their senses that they proceed to take deep draughts of it, as well as also of other pleasant tasting medicaments left in smaller and larger vessels upon the various shelves. As could be foreseen, it was not long ere they were stretched upon their bellies, tearing at the frozen earth with their fingers until the very nails fell off them. They must scratch their itching bodies until they were gory, which helped but little, for over a score died amid horrible cramps, their bowels having burst within them.

The Seraskier and the Khan, being now resolved to fall on without more delay, gave orders to all the Mussulmans under their command to commence the attack. We were however perfectly surprised when some of the leading janissaries arrived and urged His Majesty, who was playing battledore and shuttlecock with Grothusen, to give himself unto their keeping who so greatly adored him. The King deigning no reply, there commenced a brisk cannonade from all sides around us, whereby fifteen shots went through the King’s house. To encourage his hordes, the Seraskier set his many pipers a-playing. As soon as His Majesty heard this loud sound of martial music, which was intended to terrify him, he ordered six trumpeters upon the balcony of his headquarters to blow as bravely as they knew how. One, being killed by an arrow through his nose, fell over the railing into the street, but the five remained a-blowing. Some of our most valiant officers, seeing that this could only end in butchery, now came to King Charles declaring that they had ever been willing, as long as they could move a finger, to risk their lives for him, but this was but outright murder.

Answered His Majesty: “There is no other way but to fight.”

The janissaries now advancing all on fire to fall on, Grothusen goes out to them with a few of our men and begins a parley. “Consider well what you are doing,— would you kill this King who loves you so greatly and whom you have promised to serve anywhere His Majesty thinks necessary? The orders of the Sultan are not as severe as you believe.”

These words produced such an impression upon the janissaries that they cried out with one voice, “Korkma” [Fear not], “we are of your friends.” In the same moment they wheel their regiments about and riding towards the tents of the Seraskier and the Khan demand to be shown the order of the Sultan. These great Turkish commanders, who were about to give orders for their entire army to charge, hearing the janissaries say they would even turn their arms upon their own comrades, now reverse the command, admitting it were better to take further counsel on the morrow.

The day had hardly broke when some two score of the janissaries were seized, strangled, and thrown into the river. Fearful of the same fate as their comrades, the remainder offer observance to the Seraskier, who promises each one of them eight ducats, were the King of Sweden but taken alive. The council then decides to send to His Majesty the most worthy of the janissaries, once more begging him to trust himself in their hands. The Seraskier furthermore reads aloud to them all the holy order of his Lord and Master, which he held aloft while they bowed their heads in reverence. He explained unto them how they had rendered themselves guilty of high treason and might be separated from their wives and counted amid the accursed number of the infidels. So the old officers of the janissaries, those that had white beards down to their waists, rid for the last time forward to our camp, holding in their hands white canes, as a sign of peace. Their spokesman declared that they offered their services to His Majesty, assuring him they would serve him as escort and guard him as the apple of their eye, if he would but fare with them to Adrianople to the Sultan, or himself lead them to his own distant lands amid the snows and ice of the north. Would he but go with them, they would sooner be cut into many small pieces than allow any harm to come to a single hair upon his royal head.

All to no avail! In great passion they returned to their comrades and the attack soon began. It was a lovely Sunday morning on which the lion-hunt took place, and Provost Brenner, who was the chaplain of the day, was strangely enough preaching from the text describing how the Lord Jesus slept peacefully in his boat while the storm was raging round him.

The congregation dispersed, each man taking his position, as we saw the enemy in full march to attack us. Our outer barricades were shortly taken, both by ruse and by the enemy rushing in vast numbers over our poor defences, His Majesty and some fifty others alone escaping into the King’s own stone house. This did they find swarming like a bee-hive with plundering Turks and Tartars. We hunted them right joyfully as terriers would rats in a closed cellar. From one hall to the other the battle raged, until the house was so filled with smoke we might only see each other’s legs, and the floor was so slippery with blood, neither friend nor foe could keep his footing thereon.

Twice had His Majesty’s life been saved as by a miracle, the brave Axel Hård warding off the blows against which the King could not defend himself. At last the house was empty, over three hundred Mussulmans’ corpses having been thrown out of the doors and windows. We had washed our faces and bloody hands in Spanish wine from the casks that were brought up from below to refresh our parched throats. Through the shutters of the windows we could see the Turks without, taking counsel how next to proceed. We had not long to wait for the result of their deliberations, for presently the janissaries began shooting arrows with fire and sulphur stuck in hemp upon their points. They lighted in such numbers upon the roof of our quarters that the score of us that were left in fighting trim, in order not to become roasted were fain to descend to the lower story.

Axel Roos now goes up to His Majesty and counsels him to force his way to the chancellery near by, where the game might, with less heat above us, be started anew.

This was in very deed our last hope. The door was opened and His Majesty, at the head of the little band still left him, rushes out, his sword in his right hand and his pistol in his left. As ill luck would have it, just as he reached the ground where stood a thick barrier of Turks, he trips in one of his great spurs and falls, the Turks then throwing themselves upon him, even as a pack of baying hounds upon the dying boar. His weapons were forthwith wrenched from his hands, his followers all hewn down or made prisoners, and many of the Turks fell to tearing and biting off pieces of His Majesty’s coat and trousers in order that they might therewith prove that they had a hand in the capture alive and claim a great reward.

Thus ended the Kalabalik. The Turks screamed with delight at their many prisoners and the great booty they had secured, while His Majesty was led into the tent of the Seraskier. Unto the janissaries posted by the flap he graciously cast a handful of gold ducats he still had by him. His Majesty was the dreadfullest sight I ever saw. Such clothes as still were hanging in rags upon his noble body were so drenched by blood that they were more red than yellow and blue. From his left hand, which was badly wounded, blood dripped to the ground. The eyebrows were all singed off by the fire of the pistols discharged close to his face. This was so blackened, and sweaty to boot, that not even his Princess sister would have known him, had she had the misfortune to be there. Both the tip of his nose and one ear which had been struck by a sword were bloody and swollen.

But with a firm tread, and his carriage as straight as the trunks of his northern pines, he entered the tent of the Seraskier.

Proud and triumphant he gazed upon his captor, who offered him the seat of honor upon the divan; but His Majesty was too full of concern to seat himself.

“I am enraptured,” said the Seraskier, “that Your Majesty has escaped with your life from so great a broil.”

Replies the King: “The danger has been a bagatelle, and had my people by the barricades done as well as those within my house, the game would not yet be ended.”

“It was a rough game,” replied the Seraskier.

“For sport it was too much, for a fight too little,” said King Charles.

With his royal hand he had that day sent fifteen Mussulmans to their eternal rest, but of that they made no mention.

His Majesty, indeed, was in the greatest concern, knowing that his chief officers and other soldiers, unless speedily ransomed, would be sold into slavery by those who had taken them prisoners, so he sent a charge to the foreign ambassadors, Mr. de Fabrice and Mr. Jeffreys, as well as to Mr. de la Mottraye, to do all that lay in their power to purchase back as many as possible of the poor survivors. They were a pitiful sight: the Tartars on horseback did lead them tied and coupled as dogs, behind them, yea, even with halters around the necks of several counts and high officers, as if they had caught horses. They closely searched the prisoners and took from them whatever they had left of gold or silver, watches, earrings or finger-rings. In place of their own clothes, they, being forced to undress, were given filthy Turkish rags as sole protection in this cold month of February. The silver buttons were cut off the coats, that their captors might wear these in strings around their necks. In pieces of bread and in the hearts of figs and other fruit did some of these miserable wretches conceal a few ducats.

The Tartars rigged themselves out in such fashion as to look like monkeys, which they in truth do greatly resemble. Outside their dirty sheepskin coats, they put on the gallooned jackets of the officers and the three- cornered officers’ hats under their own caps, often in two or three tiers, while from their belts did they suspend the wigs, using them in place of their thumb and forefinger, as they had observed us use nosekerchiefs.

Mr. de Fabrice did now succeed in ransoming the greater portion of all our officers and men, but the Seraskier firmly refused to accede to the honorable demand that His Majesty’s sword be returned, alleging that he dared not, lest His Majesty should commence fighting alone, and, madman that he was, attack all the soldiers and guards about him.

The King being informed that all his men might not follow him into captivit...

Table of contents

• SWEDEN UNDER CHARLES THE ELEVENTH
• THE YOUNG PRINCE
• THE CALL TO THE THRONE
• THE YOUNG KING
• THE STORM BREAKS
• NARVA AND THE SAXON CAMPAIGNS
• THE OPENING OF THE POLISH CAMPAIGNS
• THE ADVANCE AGAINST AUGUSTUS
• CRACOW AND THORN
• LEMBERG AND WARSAW
• CHECKMATE FOR AUGUSTUS
• INVASION OF SAXONY
• ALTRANSTÄDT
• THE MARCH TOWARDS MOSKOWA
• POLTAVA
• BENDER
• THE FIGHT AT BENDER
• THE KALABALIK