he terrace of
every house blazed with torches, and it became as light as day. Troops
of armed men were charging down the streets, brandishing their scimitars
and yataghans, and exclaiming, "The Cross, the Cross!" "Liberty!"
"Greece!" "Iskander and Epirus!" The townsmen recognised their
countrymen by their language and their dress. The name of Iskander
acted as a spell. They stopt not to inquire. A magic sympathy at once
persuaded them that this great man had, by the grace of Heaven, recurred
to the creed and country of his fathers. And so every townsman, seizing
the nearest weapon, with a spirit of patriotic frenzy, rushed into
the streets, crying out, "The Cross, the Cross!" "Liberty!" "Greece!"
"Iskander and Epirus!" Ay! even the women lost all womanly fears,
and stimulated instead of soothing the impulse of their masters. They
fetched them arms, they held the torches, they sent them forth with vows
and prayers and imprecations, their children clinging to their robes,
and repeating with enthusiasm, phrases which they could not comprehend.

The Turks fought with the desperation of men who feel that they are
betrayed, and must be victims. The small and isolated bodies were soon
massacred, all with cold steel, for at this time, although some of the
terrible inventions of modern warfare were introduced, their use was not
general. The citadel, indeed, was fortified with cannon; but the greater
part of the soldiery trusted to their crooked swords, and their unerring
javelins. The main force of the Turkish garrison had been quartered in
an old palace of the Archbishop, situate in the middle of the city on a
slightly rising and open ground, a massy building of rustic stone. Here
the Turks, although surrounded, defended themselves desperately, using
their cross bows with terrible effect; and hither, the rest of the city
being now secured, Iskander himself repaired to achieve its complete
deliverance.

The Greeks had endeavoured to carry the principal entrance of the palace
by main force, but the strength of the portal had resisted their utmost
exertions, and the arrows of the besieged had at length forced them to
retire to a distance. Iskander directed that two pieces of cannon should
be dragged down from the citadel, and then played against the entrance.
In the meantime, he ordered immense piles of damp faggots to be lit
before the building, the smoke of which prevented the besieged from
taking any aim. The ardour of the peo