The last days of the beleaguered town had begun, and it was only from
fear of treachery--not, alas! unwarranted--on the part of the Greeks
that the besieged still held out. The scenes at the capitulation of
Navarin, not eighteen months old, the repetition of them at Athens,
scarcely six months ago, had not encouraged the Turks to hope for
honorable dealings with their enemies, or rather with the half-brigand
chiefs, such as Kolocotrones and Poniropoulos, who commanded the
forces. Hypsilantes, they had learned from the previous negotiations
which were concluded by him and taken out of his hand by Kolocotrones,
was no more than a cipher put first among other figures, and while
there was still the faintest hope, they had determined not to surrender.
Since the beginning of December the stress of famine had set in;
already all the horses had been killed for food, their bones boiled to
make a thin and acrid broth, and the man who caught a couple of rats
was reckoned fortunate. Children, wasted to skeletons, with the hollow
eyes of old men, were found dead in the street; their fathers thanked
Allah that their suffering was over. A soldier one day fell from sheer
exhaustion as he was mounting the steep steps of the fortress, the
Palamede, cutting his hand badly, and a comrade, coming up a minute or
two later, found him sitting down and greedily licking up the blood
which dripped from the wound. At length it was impossible to hold the
Palamede any longer; those who had to go down to the lower town to
fetch the diminished rations were too weak to remount the long ascent,
and on the 11th of December it was abandoned, the gate between it and
the lower town was closed, and the whole garrison quartered in the
latter.
From the ships Miaulis had seen the lines of soldiers filing out on
the evening of the 11th, and gave notice of it to Poniropoulos. The
latter, seeing that no treasure was possibly to be obtained from
there, notified the abandonment of the fort to Hypsilantes, who with
infinite difficulty was hauled up over the parapeted wall which
defended the steps, and, with a voice tremulous, not with emotion,
but breathlessness, took possession of it in the name of the supreme
government of the Greek republic. There was still a good deal of powder
in the magazines, and this somewhat barren triumph was announced to
the rest of the army by volleys of artillery. The top of the fortress
was quite enveloped in smoke, and the effect, if not the cause, was
exceedingly magnificent.
But the sound of the guns and the smoke of the firing carried too far.
Kolocotrones, still encamped on the top of the Dervenaki, in the hope
that the Turkish garrison of Nauplia would attempt to cut their way
through the Greeks and escape to Corinth, was waiting there for the
end, seeing that the most part of the treasure of Nauplia was exhausted
in purchasing provisions, and that a fine harvest might be expected
from the ransom of the Turks of rank who escaped. They must pass over
the hills of the Dervenaki, and he would thus gain the honor of their
capture, and also, what was the dearer to him, the money of their
ransom. But repeated volleys from the Palamede, while no firing came
from the lower town, could mean but one thing. Were the Turks opening
fire on the Greeks, they would use the guns of the lower fortress at
shorter range rather than those of the Palamede. Again no answer came
from either side, the Burdjee or the fleet. Also his practised ear
could distinguish even at that distance the hollow buffet of blank
firing from the sharper noise of the discharge of shot or shell. So on
went the brass helmet, and at the head of his eight thousand irregular
but strangely efficient troops, he set out for the town. Certainly none
could say that he spared himself. He marched on foot with the others,
all smiles and bluff encouragement, going, with all his fifty years and
gray head, with a foot as light as a boy's. He roared out strange and
stimulating brigand songs one after the other, the men taking up the
choruses; he sat with the rest under a desolating shower for dinner,
and when the repeated rain put out the fire on which he was roasting a
sheep for himself and his staff, he laughed, and cut off with his sword
a great hunk of flesh more than half raw, and ate it as if it had been
meat for a king. They had set off in such haste that they had forgotten
to bring wine with them. It mattered not; rain-water, he said, was the
best of drinks, and he washed down the raw lamb with a draught from
a puddle among stones. Then when at the last a flask of spirits was
produced, he would none of it; he had drunk his fill, let those who had
not yet drunk have the brandy. Of what good were meat and drink but to
fill the stomach? His own was full, and he licked his greasy fingers.
All this endeared him in a savage way to his men. Here at least was
a man who was of themselves, made generalissimo of the Peloponnesian
troops by the supreme council. Indeed, had he not been without a sense
of honor where treasure was concerned, they could have had no better.
Petrobey had shown himself weak at Tripoli; Hypsilantes had never been
otherwise; Mavrogordatos was busy with his titles.
As his custom was, Kolocotrones came laughing and shouting into the
Greek army with a joke and a slap on the back for his friends, an
outburst of genuine affection for his son, Panos, total indifference to
the cold faces of the Mainats, and an enormous appetite.
"Tell me not a word of news, Panos," he cried, "till I have eaten.
Bad news is the better supported when one has food; good news tastes
sweeter after food."
Early next morning Mitsos was on the quay, having spent the night at
home, but returning to the ship to ask if the Capsina would not come
that day to see them. As he passed Kolocotrones's tent he came out and
recognized him.
"Mitsos Codones, are you not," he said, "and connected with the clan
of Maina? I have heard of that business of yours and Kanaris with the
fire-ship. It was not badly done; no, it was not badly done."
Mitsos bristled like a collie dog. The manner of the man was
insufferable.
"As you say, it was not badly done," he remarked, "but there was no
booty to be got by it." And he turned on his heel.
Kolocotrones broke out into a great laugh. He was rather proud than
otherwise at his own adeptness in matters of plunder.
"You are sulky, silent folk, you of Maina," he said.
Mitsos turned back again slowly, and let his eye rest on a level with
the top of the spike of Kolocotrones's helmet.
"Little men have very fine helmets," he said.
That struck home. Kolocotrones's face flared.
"Were you of the army, I would have you whipped," he snarled.
"But I am of the navy just now," said Mitsos. "Yet if you will, come
and whip me yourself. Or shall I call some three or four men to help
you?"
He waited a moment, and then turned again. Kolocotrones itched to send
a knife into him, but as Kanaris and Mitsos were just now the most
popular pair in Greece, it was difficult to say exactly where such an
action would end. For him, very likely, in the ooze of the harbor at
Nauplia.
Mitsos had not gone a dozen paces when a buzzing murmur rose, which
grew into a shout, and the pasty Panos rushed out and pointed to the
wall above the northern gate of Nauplia. A white flag was flying there.
Kolocotrones saw it and slapped his thigh.
"It was ever so!" he cried. "I come, and they surrender."
Mitsos could not resist a parting shot.
"Not so," he cried; "you come, and the hungry are filled, and your
pockets are heavy. Go, then, on the errand of mercy, and good luck to
your bargains!"
Kolocotrones looked angrily round, but his popularity with his men
being due to the fact that he so put himself on an equality with them,
he found them laughing, as if the joke had been directed against one of
them, not against their general. From all sides the men poured out of
their tents to look at the flag, and Mitsos found himself in a crowd of
these, to whom the news of the last fire-ship had only come when they
arrived with Kolocotrones, and he was pulled this way and that and made
to drink wine, and had to tell the story again, and yet again.
Presently after, Panos, also bearing the flag of truce, was sent up
to conduct the Turks down to the council of chiefs. Kolocotrones
was the chairman, and with him were Miaulis, admiral of the fleet,
Poniropoulos, Hypsilantes, and Petrobey.
Selim and Ali, governors of Argos, represented the besieged. It was
pitiful to see even two of the hated pashas so weak with lack of food.
Yet, with the fine manners of their race, they bowed and smiled on
their way through the crowd, and exchanged little compliments with
Panos in rather halting Greek, and spoke of the freshness of the
morning. Mitsos had shouldered his way back through the press, and
recognizing and being recognized by his friend Selim, who had promised
to put a knife into him if ever they met except in time of truce,
hardly knew the man. But with a rough sort of kindness, half of pity,
half of mockery from the inborn joy of seeing the foe like this, he
took a loaf from a baker's cart standing near, and gave it to him.
"For to-morrow, at least," he said; and seeing the hungry gratitude
which leaped to the man's eye, was ashamed at having done so little,
and at the half-taunt in his words. Selim had taken one fine bite
out of it before he entered the tent of Kolocotrones, and was, with
watering mouth, waiting for another. He stood with it concealed
under his soldier's cloak, but in sitting down it fell back from his
shoulders, and before he had time to shift the loaf to new concealment
Kolocotrones had seen it. He broke out into a hoarse, rude laugh,
pointing at it.
"Truly it was time to come to terms," he said, "when the pashas snatch
a loaf as they go by. Eat it, man; we will talk after."
Selim bowed.
"With your permission, I will," he said; "for we came in haste this
morning, and without breakfast."
Kolocotrones laughed again.
"And maybe without dinner last night!" he cried.
Selim raised his eyebrows, as if in silent deprecation of the rudeness
of an inferior which it was not worth the breath to answer, and
breaking the loaf in half, passed the one part with quiet dignity
to Ali, who took it without haste, and ate it like a man already
surfeited. Kolocotrones wriggled in his chair with coarse delight.
"I warrant that tastes good," he said.
Ali looked at him a moment without speaking. Then, "We are here to
discuss terms of capitulation, I understand," he said, "not the matter
of our diet."
"That would be but little food for discussion there," said
Kolocotrones, unabashed, and grinning at Poniropoulos, who went into
wide-mouthed and toothless laughter.
Ali merely shrugged his shoulders and continued to eat his bread
slowly. Indeed, it was a strange reversing of the position of Turkish
pashas and Greek countrymen, and, in spite of those long years when
the Turks had ground down even to starvation their oppressed province,
it seemed a breach of manners to the other officers that two of them
should sit cutting their blunt jokes at the men whom the wheel of
destiny had brought low in its revolution, but whom it had altogether
failed to rob of the dignity of high breeding in the very stress and
publicity of their misfortunes. And when they had finished Ali spoke
again.
"Selim Pasha and I are here," he said, "to ask what terms you will give
us for our capitulation. For ourselves we offer the same as we offered
before: safe transport--not such transport as was given to those at
Navarin," and he looked at Poniropoulos--"to Asia Minor, and the
retention of one-third of our property. It is now six months since the
ships which were to transport us were spoken of. We imagine they must
be ready."
"It is six months ago since those proposals were made," said
Kolocotrones, becoming suddenly business-like; "for six months longer
has the siege and the expense of the siege been maintained. No, no,
we must find something different to that. Moreover, the treasure in
Nauplia is not the same as it was then."
"But where has it gone," said Ali, "if not to the pockets of the
Greeks?"
"And from where did provisions come," asked Kolocotrones, "except from
whither the treasure has gone?"
Ali laughed.
"Is there not a considerable balance?" he asked.
Kolocotrones screwed up his eye in malevolent amusement.
"I have not lately examined the accounts. But what if there is? The
bargain was made; we gave provisions and received money. Well, you have
made your proposals; in an hour's time you shall hear ours."
Petrobey rose.
"My quarters are close, gentlemen," he said; "may I give you lodging
and refreshment there while we consult?"
Ali and Selim accordingly withdrew, and Petrobey having conducted
them to his quarters, where Yanni was charged with giving them food,
returned to Kolocotrones's tent.
Already high words were passing, not on the subject of the terms of
the capitulations--for that seemed to be but a secondary matter in the
minds at least of Kolocotrones and Poniropoulos--but as to how the
booty should subsequently be divided.
Kolocotrones was on his feet, stamping and thumping the table.
"Who was appointed commander-in-chief by the council but I?" he cried.
"It is I who will take possession of Nauplia; it is I who will receive
and--and distribute the booty."
Miaulis, who was seated, had hitherto taken no part in the discussion,
but at this he spoke.
"The distribution of Kolocotrones!" he said, blandly. "The Lord help us
all!"
This was disconcerting, for even Kolocotrones acknowledged the
integrity and honesty of the young admiral, and could make no
_tu-quoque_ rejoinder.
"Then what do you propose?" he asked.
"That those who have besieged Nauplia for all these months have some
one to represent them in the division of the booty," he said, with
that wonderful, frank manner of his. "We expect fair-play from General
Kolocotrones; that is no reason why we should not see that we obtain
it."
Petrobey rose to his feet. That opportunity for which he had been
waiting ever since Nikolas had given him the example at Tripoli was
come.
"You were not at the siege of Tripoli, admiral," he said. "I was, and
I do not in the least expect fair-play from Kolocotrones. Oh, hear me
out; you will be the gainers; even you, Kolocotrones. I warn you, if he
gets hold of the treasure of Nauplia, not a piaster will you see. What
has his share in the siege been? This, that he has sold provisions to
the garrison at starvation rates. Once already, at Tripoli, would he
have made the name of Greece a scoffing and a by-word had it not been
for the deed of a better and a wiser man than any of us, Nikolas, who
stormed the place out by hand. At the Dervenaki what did he do? He let
the Albanians by, as you all know. For that he claimed, out of what
Niketas took, thirty thousand piasters. So be warned. And now I can
only follow the example of Nikolas, and withdraw from this assembly.
Hard blows are better than hard words, and, to my taste at least,
better than money. The Mainats go with me, for I take it that the siege
is over."
Petrobey distinctly had the last word, and the last word was a true
one. All knew that he spoke facts about Kolocotrones, and none could
say that he spoke from interested motives. He rose as he finished, and
turned to Kolocotrones.
"I give notice," he said, "that the Mainats are withdrawn, the work of
the siege being over."
Miaulis jumped to his feet.
"And all good go with you, Petrobey," he said. "I would that the fleet
were as loyal to me as your Mainats are; but God knows what might
happen if I went back saying that I had resigned all claim to the
booty. There would, I think, be an admiral the less, and I doubt if
there would be so many generals."
Petrobey shook hands warmly with him and went out, leaving silence in
the tent. Many Mainats were collected outside, and his voice, as he
spoke to them, was distinctly heard.
"The Mainats are withdrawn," he said; "we march in an hour."
And a clear young voice answered.
"What has the greedy old brigand been doing, uncle?" it asked.
"Be silent, Mitsos," said Petrobey. And inside Miaulis giggled audibly,
and the Prince Hypsilantes visibly smiled. Even Kolocotrones took a
moment to recover himself, but he recovered completely, for it was no
time to think of dignity when the spoils of Nauplia were yet dangling.
"We will arrange the claims of the fleet," he said.
Again Miaulis interrupted.
"You have not yet arranged who takes possession of Nauplia, or, rather,
who takes possession of the treasure," he said. "For me, I propose that
it be registered in the presence of us all here assembled."
Kolocotrones could not well afford to quarrel, not only with the rest
of the army, but with the whole fleet. From outside a murmur, ever
rising shriller and higher as the cause, no doubt, of the withdrawal
of the Mainats became known, warned him not to go too far. The whole
Greek fleet was there. If he was determined to exercise his prerogative
of commander-in-chief, he was not at all sure that they might not
determine to resist it. And while he still hesitated Miaulis spoke
again.
"I represent the entire fleet," he said, "and the fleet prevented help
coming to Nauplia by sea. Also, if so I order, the fleet will storm
the place. I was appointed, I may remind you, by the council which
appointed Kolocotrones."
Kolocotrones lost his head and his temper.
"By the blood of all the saints," he cried, "what do you want?"
"A voice in the matter," said Miaulis.
"Do you not trust me?" he stormed.
"The fleet, who do not know you, have no reason to trust you," said
Miaulis, "and I am in the interest of this fleet."
"But these others know me!" cried Kolocotrones, pointing to Hypsilantes
and Poniropoulos.
"And Petrobey knew you," said Miaulis.
Kolocotrones drew back his upper lip from over his teeth and showed
them in a snarl. If he had to yield, he would yield only step by step.
"Nauplia then will be taken possession of by Admiral Miaulis and
myself," he said, "he representing the fleet, I the army. Is that
agreed?"
"No, it is not agreed!" cried Poniropoulos. "You came here yesterday,
Kolocotrones. What of me and mine, who have stood the burden of the
siege? I demand that the treasure be registered and divided in just
proportions. Who receives the submission of the town I care not."
"It is a fine thing," said Kolocotrones, bitterly, "when the
commander-in-chief has to be watched like a school-boy lest he should
steal sweets."
Again there was silence in the tent; only outside the murmur of men
rose higher, almost to a roar.
"And, by the tears of the Virgin, I will not stand it!" he screamed,
now red and flaming. "I refuse to accept this spying and checking."
Miaulis held up his hand.
"But it seems that many call for it," he said. "My part is done; the
fleet is represented in the matter by your own promise. I will leave
the generals to settle about the claim of the army."
At the end of an hour Ali and Selim again entered the tent. On the
terms of the capitulation, at any rate, all were agreed. The Turks were
to retain a single suit of clothes, a quilt for bedding, and a carpet
for prayer, and were to be safely transported to Asia Minor, being
fed on the way. All their property was to pass into the hands of the
Greeks. They received the proposal in silence, and withdrew to the
citadel to consult with the other officers.
Eventually, and with a very bad grace, Kolocotrones was forced to
yield. Poniropoulos with two other officers, Kolocotrones with his son
and another, Niketas with two officers, Miaulis with Tombazes and the
Capsina, and Hypsilantes were to take joint possession of the property
in Nauplia. Hypsilantes was appointed arbitrator, and was to settle the
claims for the division of it in case of dispute. The town itself would
be occupied jointly by Kolocotrones and Miaulis in the name of the
republic.
But no sooner were these arrangements made known than the tumult of
discontent among the men rose to a head. Poniropoulos's band distrusted
their commander as much as their commander distrusted Kolocotrones;
Kolocotrones's men, who had taken no part in the siege, and had
expected no share in the booty, hearing that their general would
certainly have a finger in it and auguring ill for their own chances,
fraternized with the troops of Poniropoulos, and determined to resist
an arrangement which would put the whole into the hands of four or five
men already fattened by the marketing with the besieged. The Mainats,
discontented, yet top-heavy with pride at the action of Petrobey, and
knowing that they alone were out of this disgraceful quarrel, grinned
sardonically, and told the others they might as well leave too, for
not a piaster would they see. Orders were issued that every man should
go to his barracks. They were disobeyed. The men gathered and gathered
round the gate through which the commanders would enter Nauplia,
threatening to storm the place, and declaring that they would not allow
the chiefs to appropriate everything. Below, in Kolocotrones's tent,
sat the men who had been chosen to enter the place. They knew that
their own faithlessness and avarice had raised this storm of distrust;
they could not deny the justice of it; they were powerless to quell it.
Meantime in the citadel an assembly of hungry faces and hollow eyes
debated the proposal of the Greeks. The terms were hard, but not
preposterous, for their case was hopeless. If they refused, the Greek
fleet, as they knew, could shell their walls into stone-dust; that
done, they knew what to expect--pillage, massacre, and at the end a
shambles. Ali and Selim alone held out. They had seen the greed in the
eye of Kolocotrones, and Ali spoke.
"We may as well have the value of our money," he said. "The chiefs will
again agree to sell us provisions, I doubt not, till it is exhausted.
I am pretty sure our case cannot be worse. Let us surrender when the
money is finished."
But the others were against him. The Greek soldiers were a mutinous
crowd at the gate. It was impossible that they should allow the chiefs
to sell provisions again till the treasury was empty. The troops were
utterly out of hand; any moment they might storm the place. It would be
another Navarin.
Then came one of those wonderful incidents which raise history to a
level more romantic than the romances of a wizard. They were assembled
in a room of the fort looking over the gulf, and Selim was opposite the
window. He gazed out a moment vaguely, then focussed his eyes with more
intentness, and rose from his seat.
"An English frigate," he said, simply.
That decided it. Selim and Ali still held out from a sort of barren
pride, but in half an hour the capitulation was drawn out and signed.
And Selim looked again.
"She has anchored next the admiral's ship," he said, "and a boat with
officers is going ashore."
While this was going forward Kolocotrones had made another attempt
to stop the riot. He was made of bravery, and had gone out alone to
face the scowling and threatening riot. He slapped one on the back; he
scolded and stormed at another; he gave tobacco to a third; he told
a coarse story to a fourth; but the day of his gorilla blandishments
was over. He pleaded the orders of the Greek government, the fear of
another massacre if the soldiers were let into the place, and found
only black looks and unconvinced silence. Then came the news that the
English frigate had entered the harbor, and for the moment men's minds
were turned to this new development in the situation. But the crowd
did not leave the gate, and Kolocotrones returned.
Captain Hamilton of the _Cambrian_, frigate of war, had been for some
years in charge of ships at the Ionian islands. He spoke Greek with
colloquial fluency; he was known personally to Kolocotrones and other
chiefs, who much respected him; and in appearance he was admirably
calculated to influence the soldiers. He was tall and well made, of the
Saxon type, blue eyes and fair; his voice rang true; his manner was
hearty and open. And these children of the air and the mountains, who
make their judgment of a man, and for the most part not erroneously,
more by how he looks than by what he says, regarded him at first with
friendly eyes, and, when his message to Kolocotrones was made known,
with minds of admiration.
The deed of capitulation was handed out of the fortress just as
Kolocotrones turned from the crowd of men he had vainly tried to
pacify, to meet Hamilton, and, with it in his hands, he went back to
his tent. Hamilton was already there; his words were short and greatly
to the point.
"I hear there is a dispute about the division of booty, or what not,"
he said, "that concerns me not; but what I have seen is that now, while
the capitulation is in the hands of your chief, a mob of soldiers
besiege the town gate. What that may mean you know and I know. Now this
I tell you: If certain disgraceful things which happened at Tripoli,
at Navarin, and Athens happen also at Nauplia, to the rest of Europe
Greece will appear as a country of wild beasts, of barbarous men. I
care not one jot what happens to the booty, but this I will see done:
I will see the Turks safely embarked, according to the capitulation,
without being hurt or molested. I am here a friend to Greece, but a foe
to faithlessness. There are fourteen hundred Turks still in Nauplia,
I am told. I will embark five hundred on the _Cambrian_, and I will
see the remaining nine hundred safely embarked on other ships, and I
will escort them to Asia Minor. Do not make yourselves to stink in the
nostrils of civilized countries. I have spoken. With your leave, I will
go and talk to the soldiers."
He saluted and stepped out in silence, leaving the others to digest his
wholesome and unsavory words, and walking with his swinging sailor's
step up to the crowd around the gate, with two or three officers behind
him, spoke to the men:
"What I have said to your chiefs I say to you. Let this thing be done
honorably. With what follows afterwards I have no concern; but I have
something to say to you which I have not said to your chiefs. You are
on the eve of mutiny. Be steady till the Turks are out. Do not make
brute beasts of yourselves. When the Turks are out and safe on ship I
care not what happens; I will leave that to--to your chiefs and, which
perhaps is the more important, you. Now do not carry tales and get me
into trouble."
And with a smile and a salute to the men, he turned on his heel. There
was one moment's silence, then a roar of laughter and cheering. His
frankness won their hearts; his solution of their trouble amused them.
By all means, the Turks out first.
His proposal was accepted by the chiefs, but with some demur.
Hypsilantes, still clinging to the dream of Russian intervention,
viewed with suspicion the interference of the English; others viewed
with suspicion the interference of anybody. But Miaulis, Niketas,
and Kolocotrones all acknowledged without reserve the honesty and
reasonableness of the advice.
By the evening the ships were ready, and in perfect order the
famine-stricken procession left the town. Five hundred men embarked
on the _Cambrian_, the rest on the Greek ships. The quay was thronged
with sailors from the Greek fleet, and with soldiers only waiting for
the departure of the Turks. There they stood, eager yet patient, until
the last boatload left the land; then, with a rush, they poured up
into the citadel. Kolocotrones and the others reaped the well-earned
fruit of their avarice. The booty was large; the inefficiency of the
chiefs supreme. Poniropoulos, maddened with the thought that he would
get nothing, fought and scrambled with the rest. Kolocotrones, a little
more dignified, sat in his tent empty-handed. And at last Nauplia was
in the hands of the Greeks.