The Great Siege

EPILOGUE

Jean Parisot de la Valette was offered a Cardinalate in Rome, but he smiled and gracefully declined. ‘For the next few years,’ he said, ‘I must needs be a builder.’

Money now poured into the coffers of the Order, from those European princes who had been so slow to send help while the battle raged. Their small consciences pricked, they delved into their treasuries and sent gold and silver, food and supplies, fresh livestock, seedcorn, and teams of stonemasons and engineers.

‘Birgu will be rebuilt as before,’ said La Valette. ‘And a glorious new capital will be founded upon Mount Sciberras, called Humilissima. The Humble.’

The first stone was laid on 28th March 1566 by La Valette himself, a stone bearing the impress of a golden lion on a bloody field, his family device. Everyone else already called the city Valletta in his honour, but he always referred to it as Humilissima. He said they should never be too proud of a victory that was ultimately in the hands of God.

A stranger rumour circulated in the ports and harbourside taverns of the Mediterranean at that time. It was said that during the winter of 1565-66, La Valette had sent a covert team of knights, all fluent speakers of Turkish and Arabic, on a mission to assassinate Suleiman. A mission of astonishing daring and danger, which perhaps not surprisingly failed. The Lord of the Universe was one of the most closely guarded rulers on earth.

But it was said that the assassins themselves escaped from the Topkapı without being captured, and instead took another revenge. For in January 1566, the massive arsenals which lined the Bosphorus, where materials, weaponry and powder were already being stockpiled for a second invasion of Malta that summer, went up in an explosion so vast that it sent waves crashing across the Golden Horn and into the walls of Seraglio Point, shaking the very foundations of the Topkapı Palace itself. It was whispered to be a stupendous act of sabotage by the Knights of St John themselves.

La Valette naturally denied it. As if the Knights of St John would engage in such underhand tactics as assassination and sabotage! But he smiled and admitted that such a devastating misfortune for the Grand Sultan had certainly been music to his ears. He thought that Suleiman would probably not attack Malta again soon.

He was right.

With the start of the campaigning season in the spring of 1566, the Lord of the Universe attacked Christendom not by sea but by land, and not Malta, but the hard-pressed marches of Hungary. This time he would take Vienna, the Danube valley, and seize the heart of Europe.

Suleiman himself rode at the head of his army, dropsical, sallow, eyelids sagging, eyes haunted. They muttered that their lord was a broken man. He had seen many of those closest to him die — and worse, he had ordered the deaths of several of his beloved sons, to secure a succession without bloodshed, as was the Ottoman way. His son Mustafa was strangled before his eyes. Another, Beyazid, with four of his own sons, also died choking on bowstrings wielded by deaf mutes. Suleiman’s successor was to be the one called Selim, son of the Sultan’s favourite wife, Roxelana. Behind his back, he was already called Selim the Sot. He was obese, stupid, vindictive and generally drunk.

That last Hungarian campaign was not a success, the weather was terrible, and the Ottoman army became bogged down in the Siege of Szeged. The fortress was eventually taken, but Suleiman never knew it. He died in his tent the night before, on 5th September 1566.

Jean de la Valette outlived his old enemy, dying on 21st August 1568, at the age of 73. He was buried in the chapel of Our Lady of Victory, in the new capital of Valletta arising on Sciberras, where the Turkish cannon had roared all summer long, three years before.

Today you can still read his Latin epitaph, composed by Sir Oliver Starkey. In its stern, proud and laconic style, it is the Grand Master to the letter.

HIC ASIAE LIBYAEQUE PAVOR TUTELAQUE QUONDAM

EUROPAE EDOMITIS SACRA PER ARMA GETIS

PRIMUS IN HAC ALMA QUAM CONDIDIT URBE SEPULTUS

VALLETTA AETERNO DIGNUS HONORE JACET

Here lies La Valette, worthy of eternal honour.

The scourge of Africa and Asia,

the shield of Europe,

whence he expelled the barbarians by his holy arms,

he is the first to be buried

in this beloved city which he founded.

La Valette himself insisted on the new capital being so described in his epitaph.

‘This beloved city,’ he murmured as he lay dying. ‘This beloved island.’