Original subtitles

BYZANTIUM

Constantinople, the new Rome,

Eis Ten Polin, the queen of cities, is Byzantium.

It was chosen by Constantine I to be the new capital of the Roman Empire.

Its influence also espouses the confrontation of two civilisations,

the Muslim Orient and the Greco-Latin Orient.

On 5th February, 1451,

a young, passionate man succeeded to the sultanate, hungry for glory.

Mehmed II, a leader at twenty-one, was both a mystic and a realist.

He was erudite, a lover of the arts and cruel.

He dreamt of surpassing his grandfather, Bayezid,

and his father, Murad,

who had learned from Europe to build up the new Turkish nation's military force.

His first target was to be Byzantium.

Byzantium's force is nowhere more evident than in its ramparts.

Crenellated, protected by moats, guarded by vast rectangular towers,

built on three parallel slopes,

completed and restored by each emperor,

this majestic wall was, for the time,

a perfect example of an impregnable citadel.

The court of the Emperor of Byzantium.

On either side of the throne a huge golden lion

would strike the ground with its tail, opening its mouth,

rolling its tongue and roaring.

The visitor would approach and throw himself to the ground three times.

The Emperor was raised up in a tabernacle

by an invisible machine, almost to the vault.

He looked dazzling in his sacerdotal robes.

The pomp and frenzy increased during saintly offices.

There were thirty religious festivals per month.

The former Byzantine Empire, which stretched from Persia to the Alps

and as far as the deserts of Asia,

can now be crossed on foot in three hours comfortably.

Byzantium is now just a city surrounding churches and palaces

and a cluster of houses.

Pillaged by crusaders, decimated by disease,

torn asunder by theological quarrels,

it proved unable to defend itself against its long-standing enemy.

While Galata belonged to Genoa,

all the land beyond the city walls was under Turkish control.

Byzantine ships accessed the granaries from the Black Sea.

Mehmed closed off this route

by building Rumeli Hisari at the narrowest point of the channel.

On 5th April, 1453,

a vast Ottoman army invaded the Byzantine plain.

The Sultan, magnificently attired, rode at the head of his troops.

His whole army repeated, with the same posture and rhythm,

the prayer he addressed to Allah.

The siege of the city had begun.

The main obstacle was the Golden Horn.

A chain denied access at the narrowest point.

So Mehmed came up with an idea that was stupefying in its audacity.

In the night of the 22nd April, 70 vessels were carried from one sea to the other

up hill and down dale, through vineyards, fields and forests.

This stroke of genius gave the Sultan and his army the whole Golden Horn.

The weak side of the city was under threat,

and the defenders' already inadequate cordon stretched further still.

Not one Venetian sail could be seen in the Aegean.

The Pope, Venice, and Genoa had fled Byzantium

with the besiegers on their tail.

There were 8,000 of them against 150,000.

On the orders of Basilus,

the whole population gathered to march in a procession.

Holy icons were taken out of the churches.

Anywhere there was a gap in the ramparts,

the image of a saint was affixed.

All these men who had escaped death gathered at Hagia Sophia,

then the world's most magnificent cathedral.

A funeral mass for the Eastern Empire had just been celebrated.

Daybreak and death anxiously awaited behind the ramparts.

At one o'clock in the morning, the Sultan gave the signal to attack.

To cries of "Allah, Allah",

100,000 men stormed the walls of Byzantium.

The first complement of baslhl-bazouks, inexperienced and fanatical soldiers,

were heading for certain death but they would tire out the besiegers.

When dawn started to break,

the Sultan was forced to bring in his reserves,

the Janissaries that were the jewel of the Ottoman army.

Several Turks entered through one of the city gates, the Kerkoporta.

Greek soldiers saw the Turks and uttered the fatal cries.

The city was taken.

The victor had kept his terrible oath to sack Byzantium.

He only entered the conquered city in the afternoon,

once the carnage was over.

Proud and grave on his magnificent horse,

unflinching before the cruel scenes of plunder,

faithful to his promise not to interrupt the terrible task

of the soldiers who had brought him victory,

he made for the cathedral, the radiant heart of Byzantium,

anxious to thank Allah before dedicating this church definitively to him.

The next day, altars were dismantled and mosaic posts whitewashed.

The cross towering above Hagia Sophia came crashing down.

Europe realised with a shudder that because of its sombre indifference

an intrusive force was upon it,

a force that would leave it crippled for centuries.

But in history as in life,

regret does not repair the loss of an instant,

nor a thousand years make up for an hour of neglect.