The Albanians, intoxicated with plunder and debauchery, refused
to return to the castle, and only thought of regaining their country
and enjoying the fruit of their rapine. But they were assailed on the way
by peasants covetous of their booty, and by those of Janina who had
sought refuge with them. The roads and passes were strewn with corpses, and
the trees by the roadside converted into gibbets. The murderers did not
long survive their victims.
The ruins of Janina were still smoking
when, on the 19th August, Pacho Bey made his entry. Having pitched his tent
out of range of Ali’s cannon, he proclaimed aloud the firman which
inaugurated him as Pacha of Janina and Delvino, and then raised the tails,
emblem of his dignity. Ali heard on the summit of his keep the acclamations
of the Turks who saluted Pacho Bey, his former servant with the titles of
Vali of Epirus, and Ghazi, of Victorius. After this ceremony, the cadi read
the sentence, confirmed by the Mufti, which declared Tepelen Veli-Zade
to have forfeited his dignities and to be excommunicated, adding
an injunction to all the faithful that henceforth his name was not to
be pronounced except with the addition of "Kara," or "black," which
is bestowed on those cut off from the congregation of Sunnites, or
Orthodox Mohammedans. A Marabout then cast a stone towards the castle, and
the anathema upon "Kara Ali" was repeated by the whole Turkish army,
ending with the cry of "Long live the sultan! So be it!"
But it was
not by ecclesiastical thunders that three fortresses could be reduced, which
were defended by artillerymen drawn from different European armies, who had
established an excellent school for gunners and bombardiers. The besieged,
having replied with hootings of contempt to the acclamations of the
besiegers, proceeded to enforce their scorn with well-aimed cannon shots,
while the rebel flotilla, dressed as if for a fete-day, passed slowly before
the Turks, saluting them with cannon-shot if they ventured near the edge of
the lake.
This noisy rhodomontade did not prevent Ali from being consumed
with grief and anxiety. The sight of his own troops, now in the camp of
Pacho Bey, the fear of being for ever separated from his sons, the thought
of his grandson in the enemy’s hands, all threw him into the
deepest melancholy, and his sleepless eyes were constantly drowned in tears.
He refused his food, and sat for seven days with untrimmed beard, clad
in mourning, on a mat at the door of his antechamber, extending his
hands to his soldiers, and imploring them to slay him rather than abandon
him. His wives, seeing him in this state, and concluding all was lost,
filled the air with their lamentations. All began to think that grief
would bring Ali to the grave; but his soldiers, to whose protestations he
at first refused any credit, represented to him that their fate
was indissolubly linked with his. Pacho Bey having proclaimed that all
taken in arms for Ali would be shot as sharers in rebellion, it was
therefore their interest to support his resistance with all their power. They
also pointed out that the campaign was already advanced, and that the
Turkish army, which had forgotten its siege artillery at Constantinople,
could not possibly procure any before the end of October, by which time
the rains would begin, and the enemy would probably be short of
food. Moreover, in any case, it being impossible to winter in a ruined
town, the foe would be driven to seek shelter at a distance.
These
representations, made with warmth conviction, and supported by evidence,
began to soothe the restless fever which was wasting Ali, and the gentle
caresses and persuasions of Basillisa, the beautiful Christian captive, who
had now been his wife for some time, completed the cure.
At the same
time his sister Chainitza gave him an astonishing example of courage. She had
persisted, in spite of all that could be said, in residing in her castle of
Libokovo. The population, whom she had cruelly oppressed, demanded her death,
but no one dared attack her. Superstition declared that the spirit of her
mother, with whom she kept up a mysterious communication even beyond the
portals of the grave, watched over her safety. The menacing form of Kamco
had, it was said, appeared to several inhabitants of Tepelen, brandishing
bones of the wretched Kardikiotes, and demanding fresh victims with loud
cries. The desire of vengeance had urged some to brave these unknown dangers,
and twice, a warrior, clothed in black, had warned them back, forbidding them
to lay hands on a sacrilegious woman; whose punishment Heaven reserved
to itself, and twice they had returned upon their footsteps.
But soon,
ashamed of their terror, they attempted another attack, and came attired in
the colour of the Prophet. This time no mysterious stranger speared to forbid
their passage and with a cry they climbed the mountain, listening for any
supernatural warning. Nothing disturbed the silence and solitude save the
bleating of flocks and the cries of birds of prey. Arrived on the platform of
Libokovo, they prepared in silence to surprise the guards, believing the
castle full of them. They approached crawling, like hunters who stalk a deer,
already they had reached the gate of the enclosure, and prepared to burst it
open, when lo! it opened of itself, and they beheld Chainitza standing before
them, a carabine in her hand, pistols in her belt, and, for all guard,
two large dogs.
"Halt! ye daring ones," she cried; "neither my life
nor my treasure will ever be at your mercy. Let one of you move a step
without my permission, and this place and the ground beneath your feet’ will
engulf you. Ten thousand pounds of powder are in these cellars. I will,
however, grant your pardon, unworthy though you are. I will even allow you to
take these sacks filled with gold; they may recompense you for the
losses which my brother’s enemies have recently inflicted on you. But
depart this instant without a word, and dare not to trouble me again; I
have other means of destruction at command besides gunpowder. Life is
nothing to me, remember that; but your mountains may yet at my command
become the tomb of your wives and children. Go!"
She ceased, and her
would-be murderers fled terror.
Shortly after the plague broke out in
these mountains, Chainitza had distributed infected garments among gipsies,
who scattered contagion wherever they went.
"We are indeed of the same
blood!" cried Ali with pride, when he heard of his sister’s conduct; and from
that hour he appeared to regain all the fire and audacity of his youth. When,
a few days later, he was informed that Mouktar and Veli, seduced by the
brilliant promises of Dacha Bey, had surrendered Prevesa and Argyro-Castron,
"It does not surprise me," he observed coldly. "I have long known them to be
unworthy of being my sons, and henceforth my only children and heirs are
those who defend my cause." And on hearing a report that both had
been beheaded by Dacha Bey’s order, he contented himself with saying,
"They betrayed their father, and have only received their deserts; speak
no more of them." And to show how little it discouraged him, he
redoubled his fire upon the Turks.
But the latter, who had at length
obtained some artillery, answered his fire with vigour, and began to rally to
discrown the old pacha’s fortress. Feeling that the danger was pressing, Ali
redoubled both his prudence and activity. His immense treasures were the real
reason of the war waged against him, and these might induce his own soldiers
to rebel, in order to become masters of them. He resolved to protect them
from either surprise or conquest. The sum necessary for present use
was deposited in the powder magazine, so that, if driven to extremity,
it might be destroyed in a moment; the remainder was enclosed
in strong-boxes, and sunk in different parts of the lake. This
labour lasted a fortnight, when, finally, Ali put to death the gipsies who
had been employed about it, in order that the secret might remain
with himself.
While he thus set his own affairs in order, he applied
himself to the troubling those of his adversary. A great number of Suliots
had joined the Ottoman army in order to assist in the destruction of him
who formerly had ruined their country. Their camp, which for a long time
had enjoyed immunity from the guns of Janina, was one day overwhelmed
with bombs. The Suliots were terrified, until they remarked that the
bombs did not burst. They then, much astonished, proceeded to pick up
and examine these projectiles. Instead of a match, they found rolls of
paper enclosed in a wooden cylinder, on which was engraved these words,
"Open carefully." The paper contained a truly Macchiavellian letter from
Ali, which began by saying that they were quite justified in having taken
up arms against him, and added that he now sent them a part of the pay
of which the traitorous Ismail was defrauding them, and that the
bombs thrown into their cantonment contained six thousand sequins in gold.
He begged them to amuse Ismail by complaints and recriminations, while
his gondola should by night fetch one of them, to whom he would
communicate what more he had to say. If they accepted his proposition, they
were to light three fires as a signal.
The signal was not long in
appearing. Ali despatched his barge, which took on board a monk, the
spiritual chief of the Suliots. He was clothed in sackcloth, and repeated the
prayers for the dying, as one going to execution. Ali, however, received him
with the utmost cordiality: He assured the priest of his repentance, his good
intentions, his esteem for the Greek captains, and then gave him a paper
which startled him considerably. It was a despatch, intercepted by Ali, from
Khalid Effendi to the Seraskier Ismail, ordering the latter to exterminate
all Christians capable of bearing arms. All male children were to
be circumcised, and brought up to form a legion drilled in
European fashion; and the letter went on to explain how the Suliots,
the Armatolis, the Greek races of the mainland and those of the
Archipelago should be disposed of. Seeing the effect produced on the monk by
the perusal of this paper, Ali hastened to make him the most
advantageous offers, declaring that his own wish was to give Greece a
political existence, and only requiring that the Suliot captains should send
him a certain number of their children as hostages. He then had cloaks
and arms brought which he presented to the monk, dismissing him in haste,
in order that darkness might favour his return.
The next day Ali was
resting, with his head on Basilissa’s lap, when he was informed that the
enemy was advancing upon the intrenchments which had been raised in the midst
of the ruins of Janina. Already the outposts had been forced, and the fury of
the assailants threatened to triumph over all obstacles. Ali immediately
ordered a sortie of all his troops, announcing that he himself would conduct
it. His master of the horse brought him the famous Arab charger called the
Dervish, his chief huntsman presented him with his guns, weapons still famous
in Epirus, where they figure in the ballads of the Skipetars. The first was
an enormous gun, of Versailles manufacture, formerly presented by
the conqueror of the Pyramids to Djezzar, the Pacha of St. Jean-d’Arc,
who amused himself by enclosing living victims in the walls of his
palace, in order that he might hear their groans in the midst of
his festivities. Next came a carabine given to the Pacha of Janina in
the name of Napoleon in 1806; then the battle musket of Charles XII
of Sweden, and finally— the much revered sabre of Krim-Guerai. The
signal was given; the draw bridge crossed; the Guegues and other
adventurers uttered a terrific shout; to which the cries of the assailants
replied. Ali placed himself on a height, whence his eagle eye sought to
discern the hostile chiefs; but he called and defied Pacho Bey in
vain. Perceiving Hassan-Stamboul, colonel of the Imperial bombardiers
outside his battery, Ali demanded the gun of Djezzar, and laid him dead on
the spot. He then took the carabine of Napoleon, and shot with it
Kekriman, Bey of Sponga, whom he had formerly appointed Pacha of Lepanto.
The enemy now became aware of his presence, and sent a lively fusillade
in his direction; but the balls seemed to diverge from his person. As
soon as the smoke cleared, he perceived Capelan, Pacha of Croie, who had
been his guest, and wounded him mortally in the chest. Capelan uttered
a sharp cry, and his terrified horse caused disorder in the ranks.
Ali picked off a large number of officers, one after another; every shot
was mortal, and his enemies began to regard him in, the light of
a destroying angel. Disorder spread through the forces of the
Seraskier, who retreated hastily to his intrenchments.
The Suliots
meanwhile sent a deputation to Ismail offering their submission, and seeking
to regain their country in a peaceful manner; but, being received by him with
the most humiliating contempt, they resolved to make common cause with Ali.
They hesitated over the demand for hostages, and at length required Ali’s
grandson, Hussien Pacha, in exchange. After many difficulties, Ali at length
consented, and the agreement was concluded. The Suliots received five hundred
thousand piastres and a hundred and fifty charges of ammunition, Hussien
Pacha was given up to them, and they left the Ottoman camp at dead of
night. Morco Botzaris remained with three hundred and twenty men, threw
down the palisades, and then ascending Mount Paktoras with his troops,
waited for dawn in order to announce his defection to the Turkish army. As
soon as the sun appeared he ordered a general salvo of artillery and
shouted his war-cry. A few Turks in charge of an outpost were slain, the
rest fled. A cry of "To arms" was raised, and the standard of the
Cross floated before the camp of the infidels.
Signs and omens of a
coming general insurrection appeared on all sides; there was no lack of
prodigies, visions, or popular rumours, and the Mohammedans became possessed
with the idea that the last hour of their rule in Greece had struck. Ali
Pacha favoured the general demoralisation; and his agents, scattered
throughout the land, fanned the flame of revolt. Ismail Pacha was deprived of
his title of Seraskier, and superseded by Kursheed Pacha. As soon as Ali
heard this, he sent a messenger to Kursheed, hoping to influence him in his
favour. Ismail, distrusting the Skipetars, who formed part of his
troops, demanded hostages from them. The Skipetars were indignant, and
Ali hearing of their discontent, wrote inviting them to return to him,
and endeavouring to dazzle them by the most brilliant promises.
These overtures were received by the offended troops with enthusiasm,
and Alexis Noutza, Ali’s former general, who had forsaken him for
Ismail, but who had secretly returned to his allegiance and acted as a spy
on the Imperial army, was deputed to treat with him. As soon as he
arrived, Ali began to enact a comedy in the intention of rebutting the
accusation of incest with his daughter-in-law Zobeide; for this charge,
which, since Veli himself had revealed the secret of their common shame,
could only be met by vague denials, had never ceased to produce a
mast unfavourable impression on Noutza’s mind. Scarcely had he entered
the castle by the lake, when Ali rushed to meet him, and flung himself
into his arms. In presence of his officers and the garrison, he loaded
him with the most tender names, calling him his son, his beloved Alexis,
his own legitimate child, even as Salik Pacha. He burst into tears,
and, with terrible oaths, called Heaven to witness that Mouktar and
Veli, whom he disavowed on account of their cowardice, were the
adulterous offspring of Emineh’s amours. Then, raising his hand against the
tomb of her whom he had loved so much, he drew the stupefied Noutza into
the recess of a casemate, and sending for Basilissa, presented him to her
as a beloved son, whom only political considerations had compelled him
to keep at a distance, because, being born of a Christian mother, he
had been brought up in the faith of Jesus.
Having thus softened the
suspicions of his soldiers, Ali resumed his underground intrigues. The
Suliots had informed him that the sultan had made them extremely advantageous
offers if they would return to his service, and they demanded pressingly that
Ali should give up to them the citadel of Kiapha, which was still in his
possession, and which commanded Suli. He replied with the information that he
intended, January 26, to attack the camp of Pacho Bey early in the morning,
and requested their assistance. In order to cause a diversion, they were
to descend into the valley of Janina at night, and occupy a position
which he pointed out to them, and he gave their the word "flouri" as
password for the night. If successful, he undertook to grant their
request.
Ali’s letter was intercepted, and fell into Ismail’s hands,
who immediately conceived a plan for snaring his enemy in his own
toils. When the night fixed by Ali arrived, the Seraskier marched out a
strong division under the command of Omar Brionis, who had been
recently appointed Pacha, and who was instructed to proceed along the
western slope of Mount Paktoras as far as the village of Besdoune, where he
was to place an outpost, and then to retire along the other side of
the mountain, so that, being visible in the starlight, the sentinels
placed to watch on the hostile towers might take his men for the Suliots
and report to Ali that the position of Saint-Nicolas, assigned to them,
had been occupied as arranged. All preparations for battle were made,
and the two mortal enemies, Ismail and Ali, retired to rest, each
cherishing the darling hope of shortly annihilating his rival.
At
break of day a lively cannonade, proceeding from the castle of the lake and
from Lithoritza, announced that the besieged intended a sortie. Soon Ali’s
Skipetars, preceded by a detachment of French, Italians, and Swiss, rushed
through the Ottoman fire and carried the first redoubt, held by
Ibrahim-Aga-Stamboul. They found six pieces of cannon, which the Turks,
notwithstanding their terror, had had time to spike. This misadventure, for
they had hoped to turn the artillery against the intrenched camp, decided
Ali’s men on attacking the second redoubt, commanded by the chief bombardier.
The Asiatic troops of Baltadgi Pacha rushed to its defence. At their head
appeared the chief Imaun of the army, mounted on a richly caparisoned mule
and repeating the curse fulminated by the mufti against Ali, his adherents,
his castles, and even his cannons, which it was supposed might be rendered
harmless by these adjurations. Ali’s Mohammedan Skipetars averted their eyes,
and spat into their bosoms, hoping thus to escape the evil influence.
A superstitious terror was beginning to spread among them, when a
French adventurer took aim at the Imaun and brought him down, amid
the acclamations of the soldiers; whereupon the Asiatics, imagining
that Eblis himself fought against them, retired within the
intrenchments, whither the Skipetars, no longer fearing the curse, pursued
them vigorously.
At the same time, however, a very different action
was proceeding at the northern end of the besiegers’ intrenchments. Ali left
his castle of the lake, preceded by twelve torch-bearers carrying braziers
filled with lighted pitch-wood, and advanced towards the shore of
Saint-Nicolas, expecting to unite with the Suliots. He stopped in the middle
of the ruins to wait for sunrise, and while there heard that his troops
had carried the battery of Ibrahim-Aga-Stamboul. Overjoyed, he ordered
them to press on to the second intrenchment, promising that in an hour,
when he should have been joined by the Suliots, he would support them, and
he then pushed forward, preceded by two field-pieces with their
waggons, and followed by fifteen hundred men, as far as a large plateau on
which he perceived at a little distance an encampment which he supposed to
be that of the Suliots. He then ordered the Mirdite prince, Kyr Lekos,
to advance with an escort of twenty-five men, and when within
hearing distance to wave a blue flag and call out the password. An
Imperial officer replied with the countersign "flouri," and Lekos
immediately sent back word to Ali to advance. His orderly hastened back, and
the prince entered the camp, where he and his escort were
immediately surrounded and slain.
On receiving the message, Ali began
to advance, but cautiously, being uneasy at seeing no signs of the Mirdite
troop. Suddenly, furious cries, and a lively fusillade, proceeding from the
vineyards and thickets, announced that he had fallen into a trap, and at the
same moment Omar Pacha fell upon his advance guard, which broke, crying
"Treason!".
Ali sabred the fugitives mercilessly, but fear carried them
away, and, forced to follow the crowd, he perceived the Kersales and Baltadgi
Pacha descending the side of Mount Paktoras, intending to cut off his
retreat. He attempted another route, hastening towards the road to Dgeleva,
but found it held by the Tapagetae under the Bimbashi Aslon
of Argyro-Castron. He was surrounded, all seemed lost, and feeling that
his last hour had come, he thought only of selling his life as dearly
as possible. Collecting his bravest soldiers round him, he prepared for
a last rush on Omar Pacha; when, suddenly, with an inspiration born
of despair, he ordered his ammunition waggons to be blown up. The
Kersales, who were about to seize them, vanished in the explosion, which
scattered a hail of stones and debris far and wide. Under cover of the smoke
and general confusion, Ali succeeded in withdrawing his men to the
shelter of the guns of his castle of Litharitza, where he continued the fight
in order to give time to the fugitives to rally, and to give the support
he had promised to those fighting on the other slope; who, in the
meantime, had carried the second battery and were attacking the fortified
camp. Here the Seraskier Ismail met them with a resistance so well
managed, that he was able to conceal the attack he was preparing to make on
their rear. Ali, guessing that the object of Ismail’s manoeuvres was to
crush those whom he had promised to help, and unable, on account of
the distance, either to support or to warn them, endeavoured to impede
Omar Pasha, hoping still that his Skipetars might either see or hear him.
He encouraged the fugitives, who recognised him from afar by his
scarlet dolman, by the dazzling whiteness of his horse, and by the
terrible cries which he uttered; for, in the heat of battle, this
extraordinary man appeared to have regained the vigour and audacity, of his
youth. Twenty times he led his soldiers to the charge, and as often was
forced to recoil towards his castles. He brought up his reserves, but in
vain. Fate had declared against him. His troops which were attacking
the intrenched camp found themselves taken between two fires, and he
could not help them. Foaming with passion, he threatened to rush singly
into the midst of his enemies. His officers besought him to calm
himself, and, receiving only refusals, at last threatened to lay hands upon
him if he persisted in exposing himself like a private soldier. Subdued
by this unaccustomed opposition, Ali allowed himself to be forced back
into the castle by the lake, while his soldiers dispersed in
various directions.
But even this defeat did not discourage the fierce
pasha. Reduced to extremity, he yet entertained the hope of shaking the
Ottoman Empire, and from the recesses of his fortress he agitated the whole
of Greece. The insurrection which he had stirred up, without foreseeing what
the results might be, was spreading with the rapidity of a lighted train
of powder, and the Mohammedans were beginning to tremble, when at
length Kursheed Pasha, having crossed the Pindus at the head of an army
of eighty thousand men, arrived before Janina.
His tent had hardly
been pitched, when Ali caused a salute of twenty-one guns to be fired in his
honour, and sent a messenger, bearing a letter of congratulation on his safe
arrival. This letter, artful and insinuating, was calculated to make a deep
impression on Kursheed. Ali wrote that, being driven by the infamous lies of
a former servant, called Pacho Bey, into resisting, not indeed the authority
of the sultan, before whom he humbly bent his head weighed down with years
and grief, but the perfidious plots of His Highness’s advisers,
he considered himself happy in his misfortunes to have dealings with
a vizier noted for his lofty qualities. He then added that these
rare merits had doubtless been very far from being estimated at their
proper value by a Divan in which men were only classed in accordance with
the sums they laid out in gratifying the rapacity of the
ministers. Otherwise, how came it about that Kursheed Pasha, Viceroy of
Egypt—after the departure of the French, the conqueror of the Mamelukes, was
only rewarded for these services by being recalled without a reason?
Having been twice Romili-Valicy, why, when he should have enjoyed the reward
of his labours, was he relegated to the obscure post of Salonica? And,
when appointed Grand Vizier and sent to pacify Servia, instead of
being entrusted with the government of this kingdom which he had
reconquered for the sultan, why was he hastily despatched to Aleppo to
repress a trifling sedition of emirs and janissaries? Now, scarcely arrived
in the Morea, his powerful arm was to be employed against an aged
man.
Ali then plunged into details, related the pillaging, avarice,
and imperious dealing of Pacho Bey, as well as of the pachas subordinate
to him; how they had alienated the public mind, how they had succeeded
in offending the Armatolis, and especially the Suliots, who might
be brought back to their duty with less trouble than these imprudent
chiefs had taken to estrange them. He gave a mass of special information
on this subject, and explained that in advising the Suliots to retire
to their mountains he had really only put them in a false position as
long as he retained possession of the fort of Kiapha, which is the key of
the Selleide.
The Seraskier replied in a friendly manner, ordered the
military salute to be returned in Ali’s honour, shot for shot, and forbade
that henceforth a person of the valour and intrepidity of the Lion of
Tepelen should be described by the epithet of "excommunicated." He also spoke
of him by his title of "vizier," which he declared he had never
forfeited the right to use; and he also stated that he had only entered
Epirus as a peace-maker. Kursheed’s emissaries had just seized some letters
sent by Prince Alexander Ypsilanti to the Greek captains at Epirus.
Without going into details of the events which led to the Greek
insurrection, the prince advised the Polemarchs, chiefs of the Selleid, to
aid Ali Pacha in his revolt against the Porte, but to so arrange matters
that they could easily detach themselves again, their only aim being to
seize his treasures, which might be used to procure the freedom of
Greece.
These letters a messenger from Kursheed delivered to Ali. They
produced such an impression upon his mind that he secretly resolved only to
make use of the Greeks, and to sacrifice them to his own designs, if he
could not inflict a terrible vengeance on their perfidy. He heard from
the messenger at the same time of the agitation in European Turkey,
the hopes of the Christians, and the apprehension of a rupture between
the Porte and Russia. It was necessary to lay aside vain resentment and
to unite against these threatening dangers. Kursheed Pacha was, said
his messenger, ready to consider favourably any propositions likely to
lead to a prompt pacification, and would value such a result far more
highly than the glory of subduing by means of the imposing force at
his command, a valiant prince whom he had always regarded as one of
the strongest bulwarks of the Ottoman Empire. This information produced
a different effect upon Ali to that intended by the Seraskier.
Passing suddenly from the depth of despondency to the height of pride,
he imagined that these overtures of reconciliation were only a proof of
the inability of his foes to subdue him, and he sent the
following propositions to Kursheed Pacha:
"If the first duty of a
prince is to do justice, that of his subjects is to remain faithful, and obey
him in all things. From this principle we derive that of rewards and
punishments, and although my services might sufficiently justify my conduct
to all time, I nevertheless acknowledge that I have deserved the wrath of the
sultan, since he has raised the arm of his anger against the head of his
slave. Having humbly implored his pardon, I fear not to invoke his severity
towards those who have abused his confidence. With this object I offer—First,
to pay the expenses of the war and the tribute in arrears due from my
Government without delay. Secondly, as it is important for the sake of
example that the treason of an inferior towards his superior should receive
fitting chastisement, I demand that Pacho Bey, formerly in my service, should
be beheaded, he being the real rebel, and the cause of the
public calamities which are afflicting the faithful of Islam. Thirdly,
I require that for the rest of my life I shall retain, without
annual re-investiture, my pachalik of Janina, the coast of Epirus,
Acarnania and its dependencies, subject to the rights, charges and tribute
due now and hereafter to the sultan. Fourthly, I demand amnesty and oblivion
of the past for all those who have served me until now. And if
these conditions are not accepted without modifications, I am prepared
to defend myself to the last.
"Given at the castle of Janina, March 7,
1821."
CHAPTER X
This mixture of arrogance and
submission only merited indignation, but it suited Kursheed to dissemble. He
replied that, assenting to such propositions being beyond his powers, he
would transmit them to Constantinople, and that hostilities might be
suspended, if Ali wished, until the courier, could return.
Being quite
as cunning as Ali himself, Kursheed profited by the truce to carry on
intrigues against him. He corrupted one of the chiefs of the garrison,
Metzo-Abbas by name, who obtained pardon for himself and fifty followers,
with permission to return to their homes. But this clemency appeared to have
seduced also four hundred Skipetars who made use of the amnesty and the money
with which Ali provided them, to raise Toxis and the Tapygetae in the
latter’s favour. Thus the Seraskier’s scheme turned against himself, and he
perceived he had been deceived by Ali’s seeming apathy, which certainly did
not mean dread of defection. In fact, no man worth anything could have
abandoned him, supported as he seemed to be by almost supernatural courage.
Suffering from a violent attack of gout, a malady he had never before
experienced, the pacha, at the age of eighty-one, was daily carried to the
most exposed place on the ramparts of his castle. There, facing the hostile
batteries, he gave audience to whoever wished to see him. On this exposed
platform he held his councils, despatched orders, and indicated to what
points his guns should be directed. Illumined by the flashes of fire, his
figure assumed fantastic and weird shapes. The balls sung in the air, the
bullets hailed around him, the noise drew blood from the ears of those with
him. Calm and immovable, he gave signals to the soldiers who were
still occupying part of the ruins of Janina, and encouraged them by voice
and gesture. Observing the enemy’s movements by the help of a telescope,
he improvised means of counteracting them. Sometimes he amused himself
by, greeting curious persons and new-comers after a fashion of his own.
Thus the chancellor of the French Consul at Prevesa, sent as an envoy
to Kursheed Pacha, had scarcely entered the lodging assigned to him,
when he was visited by a bomb which caused him to leave it again with
all haste. This greeting was due to Ali’s chief engineer, Caretto, who
next day sent a whole shower of balls and shells into the midst of a group
of Frenchmen, whose curiosity had brought them to Tika, where Kursheed
was forming a battery. "It is time," said Ali, "that these
contemptible gossip-mongers should find listening at doors may become
uncomfortable. I have furnished matter enough for them to talk about.
Frangistan (Christendom) shall henceforth hear only of my triumph or my fall,
which will leave it considerable trouble to pacify." Then, after a
moment’s silence, he ordered the public criers to inform his soldiers of
the insurrections in Wallachia and the Morea, which news, proclaimed
from the ramparts, and spreading immediately in the Imperial camp,
caused there much dejection.
The Greeks were now everywhere
proclaiming their independence, and Kursheed found himself unexpectedly
surrounded by enemies. His position threatened to become worse if the siege
of Janina dragged on much longer. He seized the island in the middle of the
lake, and threw up redoubts upon it, whence he kept up an incessant fire on
the southern front of the castle of Litharitza, and a practicable trench of
nearly forty feet having been made, an assault was decided on. The
troops marched out boldly, and performed prodigies of valour; but at the end
of an hour, Ali, carried on a litter because of his gout, having led
a sortie, the besiegers were compelled to give way and retire to
their intrenchments, leaving three hundred dead at the foot of the
rampart. "The Pindian bear is yet alive," said Ali in a message to
Kursheed; "thou mayest take thy dead and bury them; I give them up without
ransom, and as I shall always do when thou attackest me as a brave man
ought." Then, having entered his fortress amid the acclamations of his
soldiers, he remarked on hearing of the general rising of Greece and
the Archipelago, "It is enough! two men have ruined Turkey!" He
then remained silent, and vouchsafed no explanation of this
prophetic sentence.
Ali did not on this occasion manifest his usual
delight on having gained a success. As soon as he was alone with Basilissa,
he informed her with tears of the death of Chainitza. A sudden apoplexy had
stricken this beloved sister, the life of his councils, in her palace of
Libokovo, where she remained undisturbed until her death. She owed this
special favour to her riches and to the intercession of her nephew,
Djiladin Pacha of Ochcrida, who was reserved by fate to perform the
funeral obsequies of the guilty race of Tepelen.
A few months
afterwards, Ibrahim Pacha of Berat died of poison, being the last victim whom
Chainitza had demanded from her brother.
Ali’s position was becoming
daily more difficult, when the time of Ramadan arrived, during which the
Turks relax hostilities, and a species of truce ensued. Ali himself appeared
to respect the old popular customs, and allowed his Mohammedan soldiers to
visit the enemy’s outposts and confer on the subject of various religious
ceremonies. Discipline was relaxed in Kursheed’s camp, and Ali profited
thereby to ascertain the smallest details of all that passed.
He
learned from his spies that the general’s staff, counting on the "Truce of
God," a tacit suspension of all hostilities during the feast of Bairam, the
Mohammedan Easter, intended to repair to the chief mosque, in the quarter of
Loutcha. This building, spared by the bombs, had until now been respected by
both sides. Ali, according to reports spread by himself, was supposed to be
ill, weakened by fasting, and terrified into a renewal of devotion, and not
likely to give trouble on so sacred a day. Nevertheless he ordered Caretto to
turn thirty guns against the mosque, cannon, mortars and howitzers,
intending, he said, to solemnise Bairam by discharges of artillery. As soon
as he was sure that the whole of the staff had entered the mosque, he gave
the signal.
Instantly, from the assembled thirty pieces, there issued a
storm of shells, grenades and cannon-balls. With a terrific noise, the
mosque crumbled together, amid the cries of pain and rage of the crowd
inside crushed in the ruins. At the end of a quarter of an hour the
wind dispersed the smoke, and disclosed a burning crater, with the
large cypresses which surrounded the building blazing as if they had
been torches lighted for the funeral ceremonies of sixty captains and
two hundred soldiers.
"Ali Pacha is yet alive!" cried the old Homeric
hero of Janina, leaping with joy; and his words, passing from mouth to mouth,
spread yet more terror amid Kursheed’s soldiers, already overwhelmed by the
horrible spectacle passing before their eyes.
Almost on the same day,
Ali from the height of his keep beheld the standard of the Cross waving in
the distance. The rebellious Greeks were bent on attacking Kursheed. The
insurrection promoted by the Vizier of Janina had passed far beyond the point
he intended, and the rising had become a revolution. The delight which Ali
first evinced cooled rapidly before this consideration, and was extinguished
in grief when he found that a conflagration, caused by the besiegers’ fire,
had consumed part of his store in the castle by the lake. Kursheed, thinking
that this event must have shaken the old lion’s resolution,
recommenced negotiations, choosing the Kiaia of Moustai Pacha: as an envoy,
who gave Ali a remarkable warning. "Reflect," said he, "that these rebels
bear the sign of the Cross on their standards. You are now only an
instrument in their hands. Beware lest you become the victim of their
policy." Ali understood the danger, and had the sultan been better advised,
he would have pardoned Ali on condition of again bringing Hellos under his
iron yoke. It is possible that the Greeks might not have prevailed against
an enemy so formidable and a brain so fertile in intrigue. But so simple
an idea was far beyond the united intellect of the Divan, which never
rose above idle display. As soon as these negotiations, had
commenced, Kursheed filled the roads with his couriers, sending often two in
a day to Constantinople, from whence as many were sent to him. This state
of things lasted mare than three weeks, when it became known that Ali,
who had made good use of his time in replacing the stores lost in
the conflagration, buying actually from the Kiaia himself a part of
the provisions brought by him for the Imperial camp, refused to accept
the Ottoman ultimatum. Troubles which broke, out at the moment of
the rupture of the negotiations proved that he foresaw the probable
result.
Kursheed was recompensed for the deception by which he had been
duped by the reduction of the fortress of Litharitza. The Guegue Skipetars,
who composed the garrison, badly paid, wearied out by the long siege,
and won by the Seraskier’s bribes, took advantage of the fact that the
time of their engagement with Ali had elapsed same months previously,
and delivering up the fortress they defended, passed over to the
enemy. Henceforth Ali’s force consisted of only six hundred men.
It
was to be feared that this handful of men might also become a prey
to discouragement, and might surrender their chief to an enemy who
had received all fugitives with kindness. The Greek insurgents dreaded
such an event, which would have turned all Kursheed’s army, hitherto
detained before the castle, of Janina, loose upon themselves. Therefore
they hastened to send to their former enemy, now their ally, assistance
which he declined to accept. Ali saw himself surrounded by enemies
thirsting for his wealth, and his avarice increasing with the danger, he had
for some months past refused to pay his defenders. He contented himself
with informing his captains of the insurgents’ offer, and telling them
that he was confident that bravery such as theirs required no
reinforcement. And when some of them besought him to at least receive two or
three hundred Palikars into the castle, "No," said he; "old serpents
always remain old serpents: I distrust the Suliots and their
friendship."
Ignorant of Ali’s decision, the Greeks of the Selleid were
advancing, as well as the Toxidae, towards Janina, when they received the
following letter from Ali Pacha:
"My well-beloved children, I have
just learned that you are preparing to despatch a party of your Palikars
against our common enemy, Kursheed. I desire to inform you that this my
fortress is impregnable, and that I can hold out against him for several
years. The only, service I require of your courage is, that you should reduce
Arta, and take alive Ismail Pacho Bey, my former servant, the mortal enemy of
my family, and the author of the evils and frightful calamities which have so
long oppressed our unhappy country, which he has laid waste before our
eyes. Use your best efforts to accomplish this, it will strike at the root
of the evil, and my treasures shall reward your Palikars, whose
courage every day gains a higher value in my eyes."
Furious at this
mystification, the Suliots retired to their mountains, and Kursheed profited
by the discontent Ali’s conduct had caused, to win over the Toxide Skipetars,
with their commanders Tahir Abbas and Hagi Bessiaris, who only made two
conditions: one, that Ismail Pacho Bey, their personal enemy, should be
deposed; the other, that the life of their old vizier should be
respected.
The first condition was faithfully adhered to by Kursheed,
actuated by private motives different from those which he gave publicly, and
Ismail Pacho Bey was solemnly deposed. The tails, emblems of his
authority, were removed; he resigned the plumes of office; his soldiers
forsook him, his servants followed suit. Fallen to the lowest rank, he was
soon thrown into prison, where he only blamed Fate for his misfortunes.
All the Skipetar Agas hastened to place themselves under
Kursheeds’ standard, and enormous forces now threatened Janina. All Epirus
awaited the denoument with anxiety.
Had he been less avaricious, Ali
might have enlisted all the adventurers with whom the East was swarming, and
made the sultan tremble in his capital. But the aged pacha clung passionately
to his treasures. He feared also, perhaps not unreasonably, that those by
whose aid he might triumph would some day become his master. He long deceived
himself with the idea that the English, who had sold Parga to him, would
never allow a Turkish fleet to enter the Ionian Sea. Mistaken on this point,
his foresight was equally at fault with regard to the cowardice of his
sons. The defection of his troops was not less fatal, and he only
understood the bearing of the Greek insurrection which he himself had
provoked, so far as to see that in this struggle he was merely an instrument
in procuring the freedom of a country which he had too cruelly oppressed
to be able to hold even an inferior rank in it. His last letter to
the Suliots opened the eyes of his followers, but under the influence of
a sort of polite modesty these were at least anxious to stipulate for
the life of their vizier. Kursheed was obliged to produce firmans from
the Porte, declaring that if Ali Tepelen submitted, the royal promise
given to his sons should be kept, and that he should, with them,
be transferred to Asia Minor, as also his harem, his servants; and
his treasures, and allowed to finish his days in peace. Letters from
Ali’s sons were shown to the Agas, testifying to the good treatment they
had experienced in their exile; and whether the latter believed all this,
or whether they merely sought to satisfy their own consciences,
they henceforth thought only of inducing their rebellious chief to
submit. Finally, eight months’ pay, given them in advance, proved decisive,
and they frankly embraced the cause of the sultan.
The garrison of the
castle on the lake, whom Ali seemed anxious to offend as much as possible, by
refusing their pay, he thinking them so compromised that they would not
venture even to accept an amnesty guaranteed by the mufti, began to desert as
soon as they knew the Toxidae had arrived at the Imperial camp. Every night
these Skipetars who could cross the moat betook themselves to Kursheed’s
quarters. One single man yet baffled all the efforts of the besiegers. The
chief engineer, Caretto, like another Archimedes, still carried terror
into the midst of their camp.
Although reduced to the direst misery,
Caretto could not forget that he owed his life to the master who now only
repaid his services with the most sordid ingratitude. When he had first come
to Epirus, Ali, recognising his ability, became anxious to retain him, but
without incurring any expense. He ascertained that the Neapolitan
was passionately in love with a Mohammedan girl named Nekibi, who
returned his affection. Acting under Ali’s orders, Tahir Abbas accused the
woman before the cadi of sacrilegious intercourse with an infidel. She
could only escape death by the apostasy of her lover; if he refused to
deny his God, he shared her fate, and both would perish at the stake.
Caretto refused to renounce his religion, but only Nekibi suffered
death. Caretto was withdrawn from execution, and Ali kept him concealed in
a place of safety, whence he produced him in the time of need. No one
had served him with greater zeal; it is even possible that a man of
this type would have died at his post, had his cup not been filled
with mortification and insult.
Eluding the vigilance of Athanasius
Vaya, whose charge it was to keep guard over him, Caretto let himself down by
a cord fastened to the end of a cannon: He fell at the foot of the rampart,
and thence dragged himself, with a broken arm, to the opposite camp. He had
become nearly blind through the explosion of a cartridge which had burnt his
face. He was received as well as a Christian from whom there was now nothing
to fear, could expect. He received the bread of charity, and as a
refugee is only valued in proportion to the use which can be made of him, he
was despised and forgotten.
The desertion of Caretto was soon followed
by a defection which annihilated Ali’s last hopes. The garrison which had
given him so many proofs of devotion, discouraged by his avarice, suffering
from a disastrous epidemic, and no longer equal to the necessary labour
in defence of the place, opened all, the gates simultaneously to the
enemy. But the besiegers, fearing a trap, advanced very slowly; so that
Ali, who had long prepared against very sort of surprise, had time to gain
a place which he called his "refuge."
It was a sort of fortified
enclosure, of solid masonry, bristling with cannon, which surrounded the
private apartments of his seraglio, called the "Women’s Tower." He had taken
care to demolish everything which could be set on fire, reserving only a
mosque and the tomb of his wife Emineh, whose phantom, after announcing an
eternal repose, had ceased to haunt him. Beneath was an immense natural cave,
in which he had stored ammunition, precious articles, provisions, and the
treasures which had not been sunk in the lake. In this cave an apartment had
been made for Basilissa and his harem, also a shelter in which he retired to
sleep when exhausted with fatigue. This place was his last resort, a kind
of mausoleum; and he did not seem distressed at beholding the castle in
the hands of his enemies. He calmly allowed them to occupy the
entrance, deliver their hostages, overrun the ramparts, count the cannon
which were on the platforms, crumbling from the hostile shells; but when
they came within hearing, he demanded by one of his servants that
Kursheed should send him an envoy of distinction; meanwhile he forbade anyone
to pass beyond a certain place which he pointed out.
Kursheed,
imagining that, being in the last extremity, he would capitulate, sent out
Tahir Abbas and Hagi Bessiaris. Ali listened without reproaching them for
their treachery, but simply observed that he wished to meet some of the chief
officers.
The Seraskier then deputed his keeper of the wardrobe,
accompanied by his keeper of the seals and other persons of quality. Ali
received them with all ceremony, and, after the usual compliments had been
exchanged, invited them to descend with him into the cavern. There he showed
them more than two thousand barrels of powder carefully arranged beneath
his treasures, his remaining provisions, and a number of valuable
objects which adorned this slumbering volcano. He showed them also his
bedroom, a sort of cell richly furnished, and close to the powder. It could
be reached only by means of three doors, the secret of which was known
to no one but himself. Alongside of this was the harem, and in
the neighbouring mosque was quartered his garrison, consisting of fifty
men, all ready to bury themselves under the ruins of this fortification,
the only spot remaining to him of all Greece, which had formerly
bent beneath his authority.
After this exhibition, Ali presented one
of his most devoted followers to the envoys. Selim, who watched over the
fire, was a youth in appearance as gentle as his heart was intrepid, and his
special duty was to be in readiness to blow up the whole place at any moment.
The pacha gave him his hand to kiss, inquiring if he were ready to die, to
which he only responded by pressing his master’s hand fervently to his
lips. He never took his eyes off Ali, and the lantern, near which a match
was constantly smoking, was entrusted only to him and to Ali, who took
turns with him in watching it. Ali drew a pistol from his belt, making as
if to turn it towards the powder magazine, and the envoys fell at his
feet, uttering involuntary cries of terror. He smiled at their fears,
and assured them that, being wearied of the weight of his weapons, he
had only intended to relieve himself of some of them. He then begged them
to seat themselves, and added that he should like even a more
terrible funeral than that which they had just ascribed to him. "I do not
wish to drag down with me," he exclaimed, "those who have come to visit me
as friends; it is Kursheed, whom I have long regarded as my brother,
his chiefs, those who have betrayed me, his whole army in short, whom I
desire to follow me to the tomb—a sacrifice which will be worthy of my renown,
and of the brilliant end to which I
aspire." |
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