numerable bodies of slaughtered Turks, so as to afford a passage to the besiegers, was as often cleared by the resolute energy of the garrison under the direction of the emperor and Giustiniani. A wooden portable turret, such as was used in the sieges of antiquity, after having been advanced with much labour during the day against the hostile ramparts, was burnt the following night, and the tower of the gate of St. Romanus, which had been beaten down, was that same night rebuilt, and again defied the fury of the assailant.
Another disaster soon befell the besiegers. It is quite enough to show that the city might even yet have been saved. Four ships, with supplies and military aid, were preparing early in April to sail from Chios to its relief, but were detained in harbour by contrary winds. One bore the Greek, three the Genoese flag. After a while, however, they reached the Bosporus, now wholly blockaded by the Turkish fleet in overwhelming numbers. It might well seem madness to attempt to force a passage. The shores on either side at this critical moment were lined with a multitude of anxious spectators, both Turks and Christians. The hearts of the latter must have sunk within them when they saw the apparent hopelessness of the situation. But the five ships were strong and lofty, and armed with artillery, and handled by men familiar with the sea and with naval warfare. They dashed fearlessly among the frail Turkish craft, pouring out on them their Greek fire, and sinking them with their guns, till the sultan, who had been watching the conflict on horseback from the beach, was beside himself with rage. Twice had the
