It was not long before fresh light was thrown upon the scene, as the fire ships, issuing out from the inner harbour, burst into columns of flame, and, towed by boats, came into action. They were convoyed by the two galleys, each with a full complement of knights, and these soon became engaged in a fierce fight with the Turkish vessels that bore down to arrest the course of the fire ships. The scene was indeed a terrible one, the roar of cannon, the shouts of the combatants, the screams of the poor wretches upon whom the terrible Greek fire fell, the clash of arms and the shouts and cries of the Turks as they pressed across the bridge, united in a din that thrilled with horror the spectators, both in the city and on St. Stephen's Hill.
Several of the Turkish galleys, in their efforts to arrest the approach of the fire ships towards the bridge, became themselves involved in the flames; but they were so far successful that when daylight broke the bridge was still intact and the combat at the breach continued to rage with determination and fury on both sides. The Turks there were led by a brave young prince named Ibrahim, a near relative of the sultan, with whom he was a great favourite, and he was ever in the front line of the assailants, his splendid bravery animating the soldiers to continue their efforts. As the daylight broadened out, however, the light enabled the Christian gunners to aim with far greater accuracy than had before been possible, and, concentrating their fire upon the bridge, across which reinforcements continued to press to the support of the assailants, they succeeded in sinking so many of the boats that it was no longer passable.
Next they turned their fire upon the Turkish galleys, four of which they sank. Shortly afterwards, a ball struck the gallant young leader of the Turks, who, although previously several times wounded, had continued to fight in the front line. He fell dead, and his followers, disheartened by his fall and by the destruction of the bridge, at once abandoned their efforts, and rushed down to the foot of the breach. The terrible scene enacted at the repulse of the previous attack was now repeated. The concentrated fire of the guns of the defenders carried destruction into the crowded mass. Some gained the boats that still remained uninjured, and rowed for the opposite shore; the greater number rushed into the water and strove to recross it either by swimming or by the aid of the debris of the shattered boats. Their total loss was greater even than that suffered by them in the first attack, between two and three thousand being either killed or drowned, among them a number of their best officers. The amount of spoil, in the form of rich jewels and costly gold ornaments, found on the bodies of the dead piled on the breach, was very great.
For three days after this terrible repulse the Turks were inactive, the pasha remaining shut up in his tent, refusing to see any one, or to issue orders. At the end of that time he roused himself from his stupor of grief and disappointment, and, abandoning the idea of any further attack upon the point that had cost him so dearly, he ordered the troops to move round and renew the attack upon the wall in front of the Jews' quarter, and commence the construction of a battery on the edge of the great ditch facing the retrenchment behind the breach before effected. The knights of Italy and Spain determined to seize the opportunity of retrieving the disgrace that had fallen upon them. At night they descended into the deep cutting, carrying across their ladders, and, silently mounting the opposite side, rushed with loud shouts into the unfinished battery. The Turks there, taken utterly by surprise, made but a slight resistance; a few were immediately cut down, and the rest fled panic stricken.
The knights at once set the woodwork of the battery on fire, hurled the guns down into the ditch, and then returned triumphantly into the town, the dashing feat completely reinstating them in the good opinion of the grand master and their comrades.
The incident showed the pasha that he must neglect no precautions, and, accordingly, he commenced his works at a distance from the walls, and pushed his approaches regularly forward until he again established a battery on the site of that from which his troops had been so unceremoniously ejected. While forming the approaches, the workmen had been constantly harassed by the fire from the guns on the walls, suffering considerable loss of life; but their numerical superiority was so vast that the loss in no way affected the plans of the pasha.
As soon as the battery was completed, gangs of men, accustomed to mining operations, set to work in its rear to drive sloping passages downwards, opening into the face of the great cutting, and through these vast quantities of earth and stones were poured, so as to afford a passage across it, the depth being largely diminished by the great pile of rubbish that had already fallen from the breached wall. This novel mode of attack was altogether unexpected. The knights had regarded the fosse that had been cut at such an enormous expenditure of labour as forming an altogether impassable obstruction, and were dismayed at seeing the progress made in filling it up. D'Aubusson himself, full of resources as he was, saw that the defence was seriously threatened, unless some plan of meeting this unexpected danger could be devised.
He consulted Maitre Georges; but the latter could make no suggestion; his only advice being the erection of a battery at a spot where it was almost self evident that it could be of no utility whatever. Other circumstances combined to render the suspicions D'Aubusson had entertained of the good faith of the renegade almost a certainty. Georges was seized, tried, and put to torture, and under this owned that he had been sent into the town for the purpose of betraying it; and he was, the same day, hung in the great square. His guilt must always be considered as uncertain. There was no proof against him, save his own confession; and a confession extorted by torture is of no value whatever. There are certainly many good grounds for suspicion, but it is possible that Georges really repented his apostacy, and acted in good faith in deserting the standard of Paleologus. He was undoubtedly a man of altogether exceptional ability and acquirements, and even the knights who have written accounts of the siege do justice to the fascination of his manner and the charm of his conversation.
D'Aubusson now set to work in another direction to counteract the efforts of the Turks. He erected an immense wooden catapult, which threw huge pieces of rock into the midst of the Turkish works, crushing down the wooden screens erected to hide their approaches, breaking in the covered ways, and causing great loss of life among the besiegers. At the same time galleries were driven below the breach, opening into the ditch, where their exits were concealed by masses of rubbish. Through these strong working parties issued out at night, and carried away up the passages the rocks and other materials that the Turks had, during the day, brought, with immense labour, from a distance to the shoot. The materials so carried away were piled up behind the retrenchment, greatly adding to its thickness and strength.
For some days the Turks observed, to their astonishment, that the road they were constructing across the ditch was diminishing instead of increasing in bulk, and at length it became so evident that the garrison were in some way removing the materials, that the pasha determined to deliver the assault before the heap was so far diminished as to become impassable. His former defeats had, however, taught him that success could not be always calculated upon, however good its prospect might appear; and although he had no real hope that the defenders would yield, he sent a formal summons for them to do so. This was refused with disdain, and preparations were at once made for the assault.