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"Basilessa, Queen! it is a name of good augury. Basilessa, thou
shalt
dwell with me henceforth."
And he collected the members of her
family, and gave orders for them to
be sent to Janina in company with the
maiden, who repaid his mercy with
boundless love and devotion.
Let us
mention one trait of gratitude shown by Ali at the end of this
expedition,
and his record of good deeds is then closed. Compelled by a
storm to take
refuge in a miserable hamlet, he inquired its name, and on
hearing it
appeared surprised and thoughtful, as if trying to recall
lost memories.
Suddenly he asked if a woman named Nouza dwelt in the
village, and was told
there was an old infirm woman of that name in
great poverty. He ordered her
to be brought before him. She came and
prostrated herself in terror. Ali
raised her kindly.
"Dost thou not know me?" he asked.
"Have mercy,
great Vizier," answered the poor woman, who, having nothing
to lose but her
life, imagined that even that would be taken from her.
"I see," said the
pacha, "that if thou knowest me, thou dost not really
recognise
me."
The woman looked at him wonderingly, not understanding his words in
the
least.
"Dost thou remember," continued Ali, "that forty years ago
a young man
asked for shelter from the foes who pursued him? Without
inquiring his
name or standing, thou didst hide him in thy humble house, and
dressed
his wounds, and shared thy scanty food with him, and when he was able
to
go forward thou didst stand on thy threshold to wish him good luck
and
success. Thy wishes were heard, for the young man was Ali Tepeleni,
and
I who speak am he!"
The old woman stood overwhelmed with
astonishment. She departed calling
down blessings on the pasha, who assured
her a pension of fifteen
hundred francs for the rest of her days.
But
these two good actions are only flashes of light illuminating the
dark
horizon of Ali’s life for a brief moment. Returned to Janina, he
resumed his
tyranny, his intrigues, and cruelty. Not content with the
vast territory
which owned his sway, he again invaded that of his
neighbours on every
pretext. Phocis, Mtolia, Acarnania, were by turns
occupied by his troops, the
country ravaged, and the inhabitants
decimated. At the same time he compelled
Ibrahim Pacha to surrender his
last remaining daughter, and give her in
marriage to his nephew, Aden
Bey, the son of Chainitza. This new alliance
with a family he had so
often attacked and despoiled gave him fresh arms
against it, whether by
being enabled better to watch the pasha’s sons, or to
entice them into
some snare with greater ease.
Whilst he thus married
his nephew, he did not neglect the advancement of
his sons. By the aid of the
French Ambassador, whom he had convinced of
his devotion to the Emperor
Napoleon, he succeeded in getting the
pachalik of Morea bestowed on Veli, and
that of Lepanto on Mouktar. But
as in placing his sons in these exalted
positions his only aim was to
aggrandise and consolidate his own power, he
himself ordered their
retinues, giving them officers of his own choosing.
When they departed
to their governments, he kept their wives, their children,
and even
their furniture as pledges, saying that they ought not to be
encumbered
with domestic establishments in time of war, Turkey just then
being at
open war with England. He also made use of this opportunity to get
rid
of people who displeased him, among others, of a certain Ismail
Pacho
Bey, who had been alternately both tool and enemy, whom he
made
secretary to his son Veli, professedly as a pledge of reconciliation
and
favour, but really in order to despoil him more easily of
the
considerable property which he possessed at Janina. Pacho was
not
deceived, and showed his resentment openly. "The wretch banishes me,"
he
cried, pointing out Ali, who was sitting at a window in the palace,
"he
sends me away in order to rob me; but I will avenge myself
whatever
happens, and I shall die content if I can procure his destruction at
the
price of my own."
Continually increasing his power, Ali
endeavoured to consolidate it
permanently. He had entered by degrees into
secret negotiations with all
the great powers of Europe, hoping in the end to
make himself
independent, and to obtain recognition as Prince of Greece. A
mysterious
and unforeseen incident betrayed this to the Porte, and furnished
actual
proofs of his treason in letters confirmed by Ali’s own seal. The
Sultan
Selim immediately, sent to Janina a "kapidgi-bachi," or
plenipotentiary,
to examine into the case and try the
delinquent.
Arrived at Janina, this officer placed before Ali the proofs
of his
understanding with the enemies of the State. Ali was not strong
enough
to throw off the mask, and yet could not deny such
overwhelming
evidence. He determined to obtain time.
"No wonder," said
he, "that I appear guilty in the eyes of His Highness.
This seal is,
certainly mine, I cannot deny it; but the writing is not
that of my
secretaries, and the seal must have been obtained and used to
sign these
guilty letters in order to ruin me. I pray you to grant me a
few days in
order to clear up this iniquitous mystery, which compromises
me in the eyes
of my master the sultan and of all good Mahommedans. May
Allah grant me the
means of proving my innocence, which is as pure as
the rays of the sun,
although everything seems against me!"
After this conference, Ali,
pretending to be engaged in a secret
inquiry, considered how he could legally
escape from this predicament.
He spent some days in making plans which were
given up as soon as
formed, until his fertile genius at length suggested a
means of getting
clear of one of the greatest difficulties in which he had
ever found
himself. Sending for a Greek whom he had often employed, he
addressed
him thus:
"Thou knowest I have always shown thee favour, and
the day is arrived
when thy fortune shall be made. Henceforth thou shalt be
as my son, thy
children shall be as mine, my house shall be thy home, and in
return for
my benefits I require one small service. This accursed
kapidgi-bachi has
come hither bringing certain papers signed with my seal,
intending to
use them to my discredit, and thus to extort money from me. Of
money I
have already given too much, and I intend this time to escape
without
being plundered except for the sake of a good servant like
thee.
Therefore, my son, thou shalt go before the tribunal when I tell
thee,
and declare before this kapidgi-bachi and the cadi that thou
hast
written these letters attributed to me, and that thou didst seal
them
with my seal, in order to give them due weight and
importance."
The unhappy Greek grew pale and strove to
answer.
"What fearest thou, my son?" resumed Ali. "Speak, am I not thy
good
master? Thou wilt be sure of my lasting favour, and who is there
to
dread when I protect thee? Is it the kapidgi-bachi? he has no
authority
here. I have thrown twenty as good as he into the lake! If more
is
required to reassure thee, I swear by the Prophet, by my own and
my
sons’ heads, that no harm shall come to thee from him. Be ready,
then,
to do as I tell thee, and beware of mentioning this matter to anyone,
in
order that all may be accomplished according to our mutual
wishes."
More terrified by dread of the pacha, from whose wrath in case
of
refusal there was no chance of escape, than tempted by his promises,
the
Greek undertook the false swearing required. Ali, delighted,
dismissed
him with a thousand assurances of protection, and then requested
the
presence of the sultan’s envoy, to whom he said, with much
emotion:
"I have at length unravelled the infernal plot laid against me;
it is
the work of a man in the pay of the implacable enemies of the
Sublime
Porte, and who is a Russian agent. He is in my power, and I have
given
him hopes of pardon on condition of full confession. Will you
then
summon the cadi, the judges and ecclesiastics of the town, in order
that
they may hear the guilty man’s deposition, and that the light of
truth
may purify their minds?"
The tribunal was soon assembled, and
the trembling Greek appeared in the
midst of a solemn silence. "Knowest thou
this writing?" demanded the
cadi.—"It is mine."—"And this seal?"—"It is that
of my master, Ali
Pacha."—"How does it come to be placed at the foot of these
letters?"—"I
did this by order of my chief, abusing the confidence of my
master, who
occasionally allowed me to use it to sign his orders."—"It is
enough:
thou canst withdraw."
Uneasy as to the success of his
intrigue, Ali was approaching the Hall
of Justice. As he entered the court,
the Greek, who had just finished
his examination, threw himself at his feet,
assuring him that all had
gone well. "It is good," said Ali; "thou shalt have
thy reward." Turning
round, he made a sign to his guards, who had their
orders, and who
instantly seized the unhappy Greek, and, drowning his voice
with their
shouts, hung him in the courtyard. This execution finished, the
pacha
presented himself before the judges and inquired the result of
their
investigation. He was answered by a burst of congratulation.
"Well,"
said he, "the guilty author of this plot aimed at me is no more;
I
ordered him to be hung without waiting to hear your decision. May
all
enemies of our glorious sultan perish even as he!"
A report of
what had occurred was immediately drawn up, and, to assist
matters still
further, Ali sent the kapidgi-bachi a gift of fifty
purses, which he accepted
without difficulty, and also secured the
favour of the Divan by considerable
presents. The sultan, yielding to
the advice of his councillors, appeared to
have again received him into
favour.
But Ali knew well that this
appearance of sunshine was entirely
deceptive, and that Selim only professed
to believe in his innocence
until the day should arrive when the sultan could
safely punish his
treason. He sought therefore to compass the latter’s
downfall, and made
common cause with his enemies, both internal and external.
A conspiracy,
hatched between the discontented pachas and the English agents,
shortly
broke out, and one day, when Ali was presiding at the artillery
practice
of some French gunners sent to Albania by the Governor of Illyria,
a
Tartar brought him news of the deposition of Selim, who was succeeded
by
his nephew Mustapha. Ali sprang up in delight, and publicly
thanked
Allah for this great good fortune. He really did profit by this
change
of rulers, but he profited yet more by a second revolution which
caused
the deaths both of Selim, whom the promoters wished to reestablish
on
the throne, and of Mustapha whose downfall they intended. Mahmoud
II,
who was next invested with the scimitar of Othman, came to the throne
in
troublous times, after much bloodshed, in the midst of great
political
upheavals, and had neither the will nor the power to attack one of
his
most powerful vassals. He received with evident satisfaction the
million
piastres which, at, his installation, Ali hastened to send as a proof
of
his devotion, assured the pacha of his favour, and confirmed both
him
and his sons in their offices and dignities. This fortunate change
in
his position brought Ali’s pride and audacity to a climax. Free
from
pressing anxiety, he determined to carry out a project which had
been
the dream of his life.
CHAPTER V
After
taking possession of Argyro-Castron, which he had long coveted,
Ali led his
victorious army against the town of Kardiki, whose
inhabitants had formerly
joined with those of Kormovo in the outrage
inflicted on his mother and
sister. The besieged, knowing they had no
mercy to hope for, defended
themselves bravely, but were obliged to
yield to famine. After a month’s
blockade, the common people, having no
food for themselves or their cattle,
began to cry for mercy in the open
streets, and their chiefs, intimidated by
the general misery and unable
to stand alone, consented to capitulate. Ali,
whose intentions as to the
fate of this unhappy town were irrevocably
decided, agreed to all that
they asked. A treaty was signed by both parties,
and solemnly sworn to
on the Koran, in virtue of which seventy-two beys,
heads of the
principal Albanian families, were to go to Janina as free men,
and fully
armed. They were to be received with the honours due to their rank
as
free tenants of the sultan, their lives and their families were to
be
spared, and also their possessions. The other inhabitants of
Kardiki,
being Mohammedans, and therefore brothers of Ali, were to be treated
as
friends and retain their lives and property. On these conditions
a
quarter of the town; was to be occupied by the victorious
troops.
One of the principal chiefs, Saleh Bey, and his wife, foreseeing
the
fate which awaited their friends, committed suicide at the moment
when,
in pursuance of the treaty, Ali’s soldiers took possession of
the
quarter assigned to them.
Ali received the seventy-two beys with
all marks of friendship when they
arrived at Janina. He lodged them in a
palace on the lake, and treated
them magnificently for some days. But soon,
having contrived on some
pretext to disarm them, he had them conveyed, loaded
with chains, to a
Greek convent on an island in the lake, which was converted
into a
prison. The day of vengeance not having fully arrived, he explained
this
breach of faith by declaring that the hostages had attempted to
escape.
The popular credulity was satisfied by this explanation, and no
one
doubted the good faith of the pacha when he announced that he was
going
to Kardiki to establish a police and fulfil the promises he had made
to
the inhabitants. Even the number of soldiers he took excited
no
surprise, as Ali was accustomed to travel with a very numerous
suite.
After three days’ journey, he stopped at Libokhovo, where his
sister had
resided since the death of Aden Bey, her second son, cut off
recently by
wickness. What passed in the long interview they had no one knew,
but it
was observed that Chainitza’s tears, which till then had
flowed
incessantly, stopped as if by magic, and her women, who were
wearing
mourning, received an order to attire themselves as for a
festival.
Feasting and dancing, begun in Ali’s honour, did not cease after
his
departure.
He spent the night at Chenderia, a castle built on a
rock, whence the
town of Kardiki was plainly visible. Next day at daybreak
Ali despatched
an usher to summon all the male inhabitants of Kardiki to
appear before
Chenderia, in order to receive assurances of the pacha’s pardon
and
friendship.
The Kardikiotes at once divined that this injunction
was the precursor
of a terrible vengeance: the whole town echoed with cries
and groans,
the mosques were filled with people praying for deliverance.
The
appointed time arrived, they embraced each other as if parting for
ever,
and then the men, unarmed, in number six hundred and seventy,
started
for Chenderia. At the gate of the town they encountered a troop
of
Albanians, who followed as if to escort them, and which increased
in
number as they proceeded. Soon they arrived in the dread presence of
Ali
Pacha. Grouped in formidable masses around him stood several thousand
of
his fierce soldiery.
The unhappy Kardikiotes realised their utter
helplessness, and saw that
they, their wives an children, were completely at
the mercy of their
implacable enemy. They fell prostrate before the pacha,
and with all the
fervour which the utmost terror could inspire, implored him
to grant
them a generous pardon.
Ali for some time silently enjoyed
the pleasure of seeing his ancient
enemies lying before him prostrate in the
dust. He then desired them to
rise, reassured them, called them brothers,
sons, friends of his heart.
Distinguishing some of his old acquaintances, he
called them to him,
spoke familiarly of the days of their youth, of their
games, their early
friendships, and pointing to the young men, said, with
tears in his
eyes.
"The discord which has divided us for so many years
has allowed children
not born at the time of our dissension to grow into men.
I have lost the
pleasure of watching the development of the off-spring of my
neighbours
and the early friends of my youth, and of bestowing benefits on
them,
but I hope shortly to repair the natural results of our
melancholy
divisions."
He then made them splendid promises, and
ordered them to assemble in a
neighbouring caravanserai, where he wished to
give them a banquet in
proof of reconciliation. Passing from the depths of
despair to
transports of joy, the Kardikiotes repaired gaily to the
caravanserai,
heaping blessings on the pacha, and blaming each other for
having ever
doubted his good faith.
Ali was carried down from
Chenderia in a litter, attended by his
courtiers, who celebrated his clemency
in pompous speeches, to which he
replied with gracious smiles. At the foot of
the steep descent he
mounted his horse, and, followed by his troops, rode
towards the
caravanserai. Alone, and in silence, he rode twice round it,
then,
returning to the gate, which had just been closed by his order,
he
pulled up his horse, and, signing to his own bodyguard to attack
the
building, "Slay them!" he cried in a voice of thunder.
The guards
remained motionless in surprise and horror, then as the
pacha, with a roar,
repeated his order, they indignantly flung down
their arms. In vain he
harangued, flattered, or threatened them; some
preserved a sullen silence,
others ventured to demand mercy. Then he
ordered them away, and, calling on
the Christian Mirdites who served
under his banner.
"To you, brave
Latins," he cried, "I will now entrust the duty of
exterminating the foes of
my race. Avenge me, and I will reward you
magnificently."
A confused
murmur rose from the ranks. Ali imagined they were consulting
as to what
recompense should be required as the price of such deed.
"Speak," said
he; "I am ready to listen to your demands and to satisfy
them."
Then
the Mirdite leader came forward and threw back the hood of his
black
cloak.
"O Pacha!" said he, looking Ali boldly in the face, "thy words are
an
insult; the Mirdites do not slaughter unarmed prisoners in cold
blood.
Release the Kardikiotes, give them arms, and we will fight them to
the
death; but we serve thee as soldiers and not as executioners."
At
these words; which the black-cloaked battalion received with
applause, Ali
thought himself betrayed, and looked around with doubt and
mistrust. Fear was
nearly taking the place of mercy, words of pardon
were on his lips, when a
certain Athanasius Vaya, a Greek schismatic,
and a favourite of the pacha’s,
whose illegitimate son he was supposed
to be, advanced at the head of the
scum of the army, and offered to
carry out the death sentence. Ali applauded
his zeal, gave him full
authority to act, and spurred his horse to the top of
a neighbouring
hill, the better to enjoy the spectacle. The Christian
Mirdites and the
Mohammedan guards knelt together to pray for the miserable
Kardikiotes,
whose last hour had come.
The caravanserai where they
were shut in was square enclosure, open to
the sky, and intended to shelter
herds of buffaloes. The prisoners
having heard nothing of what passed
outside, were astonished to behold
Athanasius Vaya and his troop appearing on
the top of the wall. They did
not long remain in doubt. Ali gave the signal
by a pistol-shot, and a
general fusillade followed. Terrible cries echoed
from the court; the
prisoners, terrified, wounded, crowded one upon another
for shelter.
Some ran frantically hither and thither in this enclosure with
no
shelter and no exit, until they fell, struck down by bullets. Some
tried
to climb the walls, in hope of either escape or vengeance, only to
be
flung back by either scimitars or muskets. It was a terrible scene
of
despair and death.
After an hour of firing, a gloomy silence
descended on the place, now
occupied solely by a heap of corpses. Ali forbade
any burial rites on
pain of death, and placed over the gate an inscription in
letters of
gold, informing posterity that six hundred Kardikiotes had there
been
sacrificed to the memory of his mother Kamco.
When the shrieks of
death ceased in the enclosure, they began to be
heard in the town. The
assassins spread themselves through it, and
having violated the women and
children, gathered them into a crowd to be
driven to Libokovo. At every halt
in this frightful journey fresh
marauders fell on the wretched victims,
claiming their share in cruelty
and debauchery. At length they arrived at
their destination, where the
triumphant and implacable Chainitza awaited
them. As after the taking of
Kormovo, she compelled the women to cut off
their hair and to stuff with
it a mattress on which she lay. She then
stripped them, and joyfully
narrated to them the massacre of their husbands,
fathers, brothers and
sons, and when she had sufficiently enjoyed their
misery they were again
handed over to the insults of the soldiery. Chainitza
finally published
an edict forbidding either clothes, shelter, or food to be
given to the
women and children of Kardiki, who were then driven forth into
the woods
either to die of hunger or to be devoured by wild beasts. As to
the
seventy-two hostages, Ali put them all to death when he returned
to
Janina. His vengeance was indeed complete.
But as, filled with a
horrible satisfaction, the pacha was enjoying the
repose of a satiated tiger,
an indignant and threatening voice reached
him even in the recesses of his
palace. The Sheik Yussuf, governor of
the castle of Janina, venerated as a
saint by the Mohammedans on account
of his piety, and universally beloved and
respected for his many
virtues, entered Ali’s sumptuous dwelling for the
first time. The guards
on beholding him remained stupefied and motionless,
then the most devout
prostrated themselves, while others went to inform the
pacha; but no one
dared hinder the venerable man, who walked calmly and
solemnly through
the astonished attendants. For him there existed no
antechamber, no
delay; disdaining the ordinary forms of etiquette, he paced
slowly
through the various apartments, until, with no usher to announce him,
he
reached that of Ali. The latter, whose impiety by no means saved
him
from superstitious terrors, rose hastily from the divan and advanced
to
meet the holy sheik, who was followed by a crowd of silent
courtiers.
Ali addressed him with the utmost respect, and endeavoured even to
kiss
his right hand. Yussuf hastily withdrew it, covered it with his
mantle,
and signed to the pacha to seat himself. Ali mechanically obeyed,
and
waited in solemn silence to hear the reason of this unexpected
visit.
Yussuf desired him to listen with all attention, and then
reproached him
for his injustice and rapine, his treachery and cruelty, with
such vivid
eloquence that his hearers dissolved in tears. Ali, though
much
dejected, alone preserved his equanimity, until at length the
sheik
accused him of having caused the death of Emineh. He then grew pale,
and
rising, cried with terror:
"Alas! my father, whose name do you now
pronounce? Pray for me, or at
least do not sink me to Gehenna with your
curses!"
"There is no need to curse thee," answered Yussuf. "Thine own
crimes
bear witness against thee. Allah has heard their cry. He will
summon
thee, judge thee, and punish thee eternally. Tremble, for the time is
at
hand! Thine hour is coming—is coming—is coming!"
Casting a terrible
glance at the pacha, the holy man turned his back on
him, and stalked out of
the apartment without another word.
Ali, in terror, demanded a thousand
pieces of gold, put them in a white
satin purse, and himself hastened with
them to overtake the sheik,
imploring him to recall his threats. But Yussuf
deigned no answer, and
arrived at the threshold of the palace, shook off the
dust of his feet
against it.
Ali returned to his apartment sad and
downcast, and many days elapsed
before he could shake off the depression
caused by this scene. But soon
he felt more ashamed of his inaction than of
the reproaches which had
caused it, and on the first opportunity resumed his
usual mode of life.
The occasion was the marriage of Moustai, Pacha of
Scodra, with the
eldest daughter of Veli Pacha, called the Princess of Aulis,
because she
had for dowry whole villages in that district. Immediately after
the
announcement of this marriage Ali set on foot a sort of
saturnalia,
about the details of which there seemed to be as much mystery as
if he
had been preparing an assassination.
All at once, as if by a
sudden inundation, the very scum of the earth
appeared to spread over Janina.
The populace, as if trying to drown
their misery, plunged into a drunkenness
which simulated pleasure.
Disorderly bands of mountebanks from the depths of
Roumelia traversed
the streets, the bazaars and public places; flocks and
herds, with
fleeces dyed scarlet, and gilded horns, were seen on all the
roads
driven to the court by peasants under the guidance of their
priests.
Bishops, abbots, ecclesiastics generally, were compelled to drink,
and
to take part in ridiculous and indecent dances, Ali apparently
thinking
to raise himself by degrading his more respectable subjects. Day
and
night these spectacles succeeded each other with increasing
rapidity,
the air resounded with firing, songs, cries, music, and the roaring
of
wild beasts in shows. Enormous spits, loaded with meat, smoked
before
huge braziers, and wine ran in floods at tables prepared in the
palace
courts. Troops of brutal soldiers drove workmen from their labour
with
whips, and compelled them to join in the entertainments; dirty
and
impudent jugglers invaded private houses, and pretending that they
had
orders from the pacha to display their skill, carried boldly
off
whatever they could lay their hands upon. Ali saw the
general
demoralization with pleasure, especially as it tended to
the
gratification of his avarice, Every guest was expected to bring to
the
palace gate a gift in proportion to his means, and foot officers
watched
to see that no one forgot this obligation. At length, on the
nineteenth
day, Ali resolved to crown the feast by an orgy worthy of himself.
He
caused the galleries and halls of his castle by the lake to be
decorated
with unheard-of splendour, and fifteen hundred guests assembled for
a
solemn banquet. The pacha appeared in all his glory, surrounded by
his
noble attendants and courtiers, and seating himself on a dais
raised
above this base crowd which trembled at his glance, gave the signal
to
begin. At his voice, vice plunged into its most shameless
diversions,
and the wine-steeped wings of debauchery outspread themselves
over the
feast. All tongues were at their freest, all imaginations ran wild,
all
evil passions were at their height, when suddenly the noise ceased,
and
the guests clung together in terror. A man stood at the entrance of
the
hall, pale, disordered, and wild-eyed, clothed in torn and
blood-stained
garments. As everyone made way at his approach, he easily
reached the
pacha, and prostrating himself at his feet, presented a letter.
Ali
opened and rapidly perused it; his lips trembled, his eyebrows met in
a
terrible frown, the muscles of his forehead contracted alarmingly.
He
vainly endeavoured to smile and to look as if nothing had happened,
his
agitation betrayed him, and he was obliged to retire, after desiring
a
herald to announce that he wished the banquet to continue.
Now for
the subject of the message, and the cause of the dismay
it
produced.
CHAPTER VI
Ali had long cherished
a violent passion for Zobeide, the wife of his
son Veli Pacha: Having vainly
attempted to gratify it after his son’s
departure, and being indignantly
repulsed, he had recourse to drugs, and
the unhappy Zobeide remained in
ignorance of her misfortune until she
found she was pregnant. Then,
half-avowals from her women, compelled to
obey the pacha from fear of death,
mixed with confused memories of her
own, revealed the whole terrible truth.
Not knowing in her despair which
way to turn, she wrote to Ali, entreating
him to visit the harem. As
head of the family, he had a right to enter, being
supposed responsible
for the conduct of his sons’ families, no-law-giver
having hitherto
contemplated the possibility of so disgraceful a crime. When
he
appeared, Zobeide flung herself at his feet, speechless with grief.
Ali
acknowledged his guilt, pleaded the violence of his passion, wept
with
his victim, and entreating her to control herself and keep
silence,
promised that all should be made right. Neither the prayers nor
tears of
Zobeide could induce him to give up the intention of effacing the
traces
of his first crime by a second even more horrible.
But the
story was already whispered abroad, and Pacho Bey learnt all its
details from
the spies he kept in Janina. Delighted at the prospect of
avenging himself on
the father, he hastened with his news to the son.
Veli Pacha, furious, vowed
vengeance, and demanded Pacho Bey’s help,
which was readily promised. But Ali
had been warned, and was not a man
to be taken unawares. Pacho Bey, whom Veli
had just promoted to the
office of sword-bearer, was attacked in broad
daylight by six emissaries
sent from Janina. He obtained timely help,
however, and five of the
assassins, taken red-handed, were at once hung
without ceremony in the
market-place. The sixth was the messenger whose
arrival with the news
had caused such dismay at Ali’s banquet.
As Ali
reflected how the storm he had raised could best be laid, he was
informed
that the ruler of the marriage feast sent by Moustai, Pacha of
Scodra, to
receive the young bride who should reign in his harem, had
just arrived in
the plain of Janina. He was Yussuf Bey of the Delres, an
old enemy of Ali’s,
and had encamped with his escort of eight hundred
warriors at the foot of
Tomoros of Dodona. Dreading some treachery, he
absolutely refused all
entreaties to enter the town, and Ali seeing that
it was useless to insist,
and that his adversary for the present was
safe, at once sent his
grand-daughter, the Princess of Aulis, out to
him.
This matter
disposed of, Ali was able to attend to his hideous family
tragedy. He began
by effecting the disappearance of the women whom he
had been compelled to
make his accomplices; they were simply sewn up in
sacks by gipsies and thrown
into the lake. This done, he himself led the
executioners into a subterranean
part of the castle, where they were
beheaded by black mutes as a reward for
their obedience. He then sent a
doctor to Zobeide; who succeeded in causing a
miscarriage, and who, his
work done, was seized and strangled by the black
mutes who had just
beheaded the gipsies. Having thus got rid of all who could
bear witness
to his crime, he wrote to Veli that he might now send for his
wife and
two of his children, hitherto detained as hostages, and that
the
innocence of Zobeide would confound a calumniator who had dared
to
assail him with such injurious suspicions.
When this letter
arrived, Pacho Bey, distrusting equally the treachery
of the father and the
weakness of the son, and content with having sown
the seeds of dissension in
his enemy’s family, had sufficient wisdom to
seek safety in flight. Ali,
furious, vowed, on hearing this, that his
vengeance should overtake him even
at the ends of the earth. Meanwhile
he fell back on Yussuf Bey of the Debres,
whose escape when lately at
Janina still rankled in his mind. As Yussuf was
dangerous both from
character and influence, Ali feared to attack him openly,
and sought to
assassinate him. This was not precisely easy; for, exposed to a
thousand
dangers of this kind, the nobles of that day were on their guard.
Steel
and poison were used up, and another way had to be sought. Ali found
it.
One of the many adventurers with whom Janina was filled penetrated
to
the pacha’s presence, and offered to sell the secret of a powder
whereof
three grains would suffice to kill a man with a
terrible
explosion—explosive powder, in short. Ali heard with delight,
but
replied that he must see it in action before purchasing.
In the
dungeons of the castle by the lake, a poor monk of the order of
St. Basil was
slowly dying, for having boldly refused a sacrilegious
simony proposed to him
by Ali. He was a fit subject for the experiment,
and was successfully blown
to pieces, to the great satisfaction of Ali,
who concluded his bargain, and
hastened to make use of it. He prepared a
false firman, which, according to
custom, was enclosed and sealed in a
cylindrical case, and sent to Yussuf Bey
by a Greek, wholly ignorant of
the real object of his mission. Opening it
without suspicion, Yussuf had
his arm blown off, and died in consequence, but
found time to despatch a
message to Moustai Pacha of Scodra, informing him of
the catastrophe,
and warning him to keep good guard.
Yussuf’s letter
was received by Moustai just as a similar infernal
machine was placed in his
hands under cover to his young wife. The
packet was seized, and a careful
examination disclosed its nature. The
mother of Moustai, a jealous and cruel
woman, accused her
daughter-in-law of complicity, and the unfortunate Ayesha,
though
shortly to become a mother, expired in agony from the effects of
poison,
only guilty of being the innocent instrument of her
grandfather’s
treachery.
Fortune having frustrated Ali’s schemes
concerning Moustai Pacha,
offered him as consolation a chance of invading the
territory of Parga,
the only place in Epirus which had hitherto escaped his
rule, and which
he greedily coveted. Agia, a small Christian town on the
coast, had
rebelled against him and allied itself to Parga. It provided an
excuse
for hostilities, and Ali’s troops, under his son Mouktar, first
seized
Agia, where they only found a few old men to massacre, and then
marched
on Parga, where the rebels had taken refuge. After a few
skirmishes,
Mouktar entered the town, and though the Parganiotes fought
bravely,
they must inevitably have surrendered had they been left to
themselves.
But they had sought protection from the French, who had
garrisoned the
citadel, and the French grenadiers descending rapidly from the
height,
charged the Turks with so much fury that they fled in all
directions,
leaving on the field four "bimbashis," or captains of a thousand,
and a
considerable number of killed and wounded.
The pacha’s fleet
succeeded no better than his army. Issuing from the
Gulf of Ambracia, it was
intended to attack Parga from the sea, joining
in the massacre, and cutting
off all hope of escape from that side, Ali
meaning to spare neither the
garrison nor any male inhabitants over
twelve years of age. But a few shots
fired from a small fort dispersed
the ships, and a barque manned by sailors
from Paxos pursued them, a
shot from which killed Ali’s admiral on his
quarter-deck. He was a Greek
of Galaxidi, Athanasius Macrys by
name.
Filled with anxiety, Ali awaited news at Prevesa, where a courier,
sent
off at the beginning of the action, had brought him oranges gathered
in
the orchards of Parga. Ali gave him a purse of gold, and
publicly
proclaimed his success. His joy was redoubled when a second
messenger
presented two heads of French soldiers, and announced that his
troops
were in possession of the lower part of Parga. Without further delay
he
ordered his attendants to mount, entered his carriage, and
started
triumphantly on the Roman road to Nicopolis. He sent messengers to
his
generals, ordering them to spare the women and children of
Parga,
intended for his harem, and above all to take strict charge of
the
plunder. He was approaching the arena of Nicopolis when a third
Tartar
messenger informed him of the defeat of his army. Ali
changed
countenance, and could scarcely articulate the order to return
to
Prevesa. Once in his palace, he gave way to such fury that all
around
him trembled, demanding frequently if it could be true that his
troops
were beaten. "May your misfortune be upon us!" his attendants
answered,
prostrating themselves. All at once, looking out on the calm blue
sea
which lay before his windows, he perceived his fleet doubling
Cape
Pancrator and re-entering the Ambracian Gulf under full sail;
it
anchored close by the palace, and on hailing the leading ship a
speaking
trumpet announced to Ali the death of his admiral, Athanasius
Macrys.
"But Parga, Parga!" cried Ali.
"May Allah grant the pacha
long life! The Parganiotes have escaped the
sword of His
Highness."
"It is the will of Allah!" murmured the pacha; whose head sank
upon his
breast in dejection.
Arms having failed, Ali, as usual, took
refuge in plots and treachery,
but this time, instead of corrupting his
enemies with gold, he sought to
weaken them by
division.
CHAPTER VII
The French commander Nicole,
surnamed the "Pilgrim," on account of a
journey he had once made to Mecca,
had spent six months at Janina with a
brigade of artillery which General
Marmont, then commanding in the
Illyrian provinces, had for a time placed at
Ali’s disposal. The old
officer had acquired the esteem and friendship of the
pacha, whose
leisure he had often amused by stories of his campaigns and
various
adventures, and although it was now long since they had met, he
still
had the reputation of being Ali’s friend. Ali prepared his
plans
accordingly. He wrote a letter to Colonel Nicole, apparently
in
continuation of a regular correspondence between them, in which
he
thanked the colonel for his continued affection, and besought him
by
various powerful motives to surrender Parga, of which he promised
him
the governorship during the rest of his life. He took good care
to
complete his treason by allowing the letter to fall into the hands
of
the chief ecclesiastics of Parga, who fell head-foremost into the
trap.
Seeing that the tone of the letter was in perfect accordance with
the
former friendly relations between their French governor and the
pacha,
they were convinced of the former’s treachery. But the result was not
as
Ali had hoped: the Parganiotes resumed their former negotiations
with
the English, preferring to place their freedom in the hands of
a
Christian nation rather than to fall under the rule of a
Mohammedan
satrap.... The English immediately sent a messenger to Colonel
Nicole,
offering honourable conditions of capitulation. The colonel returned
a
decided refusal, and threatened to blow up the place if the
inhabitants,
whose intentions he guessed, made the slightest hostile
movement.
However, a few days later, the citadel was taken at night, owing to
the
treachery of a woman who admitted an English detachment; and the
next
day, to the general astonishment, the British standard floated over
the
Acropolis of Parga.
All Greece was then profoundly stirred by a
faint gleam of the dawn of
liberty, and shaken by a suppressed agitation. The
Bourbons again
reigned in France, and the Greeks built a thousand hopes on an
event
which changed the basis of the whole European policy. Above all,
they
reckoned on powerful assistance from Russia. But England had
already
begun to dread anything which could increase either the possessions
or
the influence of this formidable power. Above all, she was
determined
that the Ottoman Empire should remain intact, and that the Greek
navy,
beginning to be formidable, must be destroyed. With these objects
in
view, negotiations with Ali Pacha were resumed. The latter was
still
smarting under his recent disappointment, and to all overtures
answered
only, "Parga! I must have Parga."—And the English were compelled
to
yield it!
Trusting to the word of General Campbell, who had
formally promised, on
its surrender, that Parga should be classed along with
the seven Ionian
Isles; its grateful inhabitants were enjoying a delicious
rest after the
storm, when a letter from the Lord High Commissioner,
addressed to
Lieutenant-Colonel de Bosset, undeceived them, and gave warning
of the
evils which were to burst on the unhappy town.
On the 25th of
March, 1817, notwithstanding the solemn promise made to
the Parganiotes, when
they admitted the British troops, that they should
always be on the same
footing as the Ionian Isles, a treaty was signed
at Constantinople by the
British Plenipotentiary, which stipulated the
complete and stipulated cession
of Parga and all its territory to, the
Ottoman Empire. Soon there arrived at
Janine Sir John Cartwright, the
English Consul at Patras, to arrange for the
sale of the lands of the
Parganiotes and discuss the conditions of their
emigration. Never before
had any such compact disgraced European diplomacy,
accustomed hitherto
to regard Turkish encroachments as simple sacrilege. But
Ali Pacha
fascinated the English agents, overwhelming them with favours,
honours,
and feasts, carefully watching them all the while. Their
correspondence
was intercepted, and he endeavoured by means of his agents to
rouse the
Parganiotes against them. The latter lamented bitterly, and
appealed to
Christian Europe, which remained deaf to their cries. In the name
of
their ancestors, they demanded the rights which had been
guaranteed
them. "They will buy our lands," they said; "have we asked to sell
them?
And even if we received their value, can gold give us a country and
the
tombs of our ancestors?"
Ali Pacha invited the Lord High
Commissioner of Great Britain, Sir
Thomas Maitland, to a conference at
Prevesa, and complained of the
exorbitant price of 1,500,000, at which the
commissioners had estimated
Parga and its territory, including private
property and church
furniture. It had been hoped that Ali’s avarice would
hesitate at this
high price, but he was not so easily discouraged. He give a
banquet for
the Lord High Commissioner, which degenerated into a shameless
orgy. In
the midst of this drunken hilarity the Turk and the Englishman
disposed
of the territory of Parga; agreeing that a fresh estimate should be
made
on the spot by experts chosen by both English and Turks. The result
of
this valuation was that the indemnity granted to the Christians
was
reduced by the English to the sum of 276,075 sterling, instead of
the
original 500,000. And as Ali’s agents only arrived at the sum of
56,750,
a final conference was held at Buthrotum between Ali and the Lord
High
Commissioner. The latter then informed the Parganiotes that
the
indemnity allowed them was irrevocably fixed at 150,000! The
transaction
is a disgrace to the egotistical and venal nation which thus
allowed the
life and liberty of a people to be trifled with, a lasting blot
on the
honour of England!
The Parganiotes at first could believe
neither in the infamy of their
protectors nor in their own misfortune; but
both were soon confirmed by
a proclamation of the Lord High Commissioner,
informing them that the
pacha’s army was marching to take possession of the
territory which, by
May 10th, must be abandoned for ever.
The fields
were then in full bearing. In the midst of plains ripening
for a rich harvest
were 80,000 square feet of olive trees, alone
estimated at two hundred
thousand guineas. The sun shone in cloudless
azure, the air was balmy with
the scent of orange trees, of pomegranates
and citrons. But the lovely
country might have been inhabited by
phantoms; only hands raised to heaven
and brows bent to the dust met
one’s eye. Even the very dust belonged no more
to the wretched
inhabitants; they were forbidden to take a fruit or a flower,
the
priests might not remove either relics or sacred images.
Church,
ornaments, torches, tapers, pyxes, had by this treaty all
become
Mahommedan property. The English had sold everything, even to the
Host!
Two days more, and all must be left. Each was silently marking the
door
of the dwelling destined so soon to shelter an enemy, with a red
cross,
when suddenly a terrible cry echoed from street to street, for the
Turks
had been perceived on the heights overlooking the town. Terrified
and
despairing, the whole population hastened to fall prostrate before
the
Virgin of Parga, the ancient guardian of their citadel. A
mysterious
voice, proceeding from the sanctuary, reminded them that the
English
had, in their iniquitous treaty, forgotten to include the ashes of
those
whom a happier fate had spared the sight of the ruin of Parga.
Instantly
they rushed to the graveyards, tore open the tombs, and collected
the
bones and putrefying corpses. The beautiful olive trees were felled,
an
enormous funeral pyre arose, and in the general excitement the orders
of
the English chief were defied. With naked daggers in their
hands,
standing in the crimson light of the flames which were consuming
the
bones of their ancestors, the people of Parga vowed to slay their
wives
and children, and to kill themselves to the last man, if the
infidels
dared to set foot in the town before the appointed hour. Xenocles,
the
last of the Greek poets, inspired by this sublime manifestation
of
despair, even as Jeremiah by the fall of Jerusalem, improvised a
hymn
which expresses all the grief of the exiles, and which the
exiles
interrupted by their tears and sobs.
A messenger, crossing the
sea in all haste, informed the Lord High
Commissioner of the terrible threat
of the Parganiotes. He started at
once, accompanied by General Sir Frederic
Adams, and landed at Parga by
the light of the funeral pyre. He was received
with ill-concealed
indignation, and with assurances that the sacrifice would
be at once
consummated unless Ali’s troops were held back. The general
endeavoured
to console and to reassure the unhappy people, and then proceeded
to the
outposts, traversing silent streets in which armed men stood at
each
door only waiting a signal before slaying their families, and
then
turning their weapons against the English and themselves. He
implored
them to have patience, and they answered by pointing to the
approaching
Turkish army and bidding him hasten. He arrived at last and
commenced
negotiations, and the Turkish officers, no less uneasy than the
English
garrison, promised to wait till the appointed hour. The next day
passed
in mournful silence, quiet as death, At sunset on the following day,
May
9, 1819, the English standard on the castle of Parga was hauled
down,
and after a night spent in prayer and weeping, the Christians
demanded
the signal of departure.
They had left their dwellings at
break of day, and scattering on the
shore, endeavoured to collect some relics
of their country. Some filled
little bags with ashes withdrawn from the
funeral pile; others took
handfuls of earth, while the women and children
picked up pebbles which
they hid in their clothing and pressed to their
bosoms, as if fearing to
be deprived of them. Meanwhile, the ships intended
to transport them
arrived, and armed English soldiers superintended the
embarkation, which
the Turks hailed from afar with, ferocious cries. The
Parganiotes were
landed in Corfu, where they suffered yet more injustice.
Under various
pretexts the money promised them was reduced and withheld,
until
destitution compelled them to accept the little that was offered.
Thus
closed one of the most odious transactions which modern history has
been
compelled to record.
The satrap of Janina had arrived at the
fulfilment of his wishes. In the
retirement of his fairy-like palace by the
lake he could enjoy
voluptuous pleasures to the full. But already
seventy-eight years had
passed over his head, and old age had laid the burden
of infirmity upon
him. His dreams were dreams of blood, and vainly he sought
refuge in
chambers glittering with gold, adorned with arabesques, decorated
with
costly armour and covered with the richest of Oriental carpets,
remorse
stood ever beside him. Through the magnificence which surrounded
him
there constantly passed the gale spectre of Emineh, leading onwards
a
vast procession of mournful phantoms, and the guilty pasha buried
his
face in his hands and shrieked aloud for help. Sometimes, ashamed of
his
weakness, he endeavoured to defy both the reproaches of his
conscience
and the opinion of the multitude, and sought to encounter
criticism with
bravado. If, by chance, he overheard some blind singer
chanting in the
streets the satirical verses which, faithful to the poetical
and mocking
genius of them ancestors, the Greeks frequently composed about
him, he
would order the singer to be brought, would bid him repeat his
verses,
and, applauding him, would relate some fresh anecdote of
cruelty,
saying, "Go, add that to thy tale; let thy hearers know what I can
do;
let them understand that I stop at nothing in order to overcome my
foes!
If I reproach myself with anything, it is only with the deeds I have
sometimes failed to carry out." |
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