THE RULE OF THE SENATE
From this conversation among the three sprang into being the
Peloponnesian Senate, than which no more futile apparatus has ever been
devised to guide the affairs of a nation. From the first harmony was
impossible between the two parties, and the only result it achieved
worth mentioning was that it diverted the time and energies of the
military leaders from the work to which every muscle should have been
strained--the fall of Tripoli. So far from reconciling the divisions
among the soldiers, it merely encouraged partisanship, for it was known
that the senate could not agree on any point worth the deliberation.
Petrobey was more than once tempted to resign his seat, but to do that
was only to throw the wavering balance of power firmly into the hands
of the primates, while between Nicholas and Germanos there ripened,
as bitter as a Dead-Sea apple, an enmity only to be reconciled at a
death-bed, for Germanos, so Nicholas considered, and did not scruple
to say, had deceived both him and his colleague. He had professed the
highest, most altruistic aims; what guided his conduct was the most
selfish and personal policy. This, it is to be feared, was partly true,
though not entirely, for Germanos had been sincere when he opened to
the two his scheme for the glory of the church; but finding supremacy,
like the fruit of Tantalus, still dangling beyond, but seemingly only
just beyond, his reach, and stung intolerably at his failure, the
personal motive crept in, and before long usurped the place of the
other.
Nicholas had hoped great things from the arrival of the prince;
but they, too, were doomed to be disappointed. He was given an
enthusiastic welcome by the army, the majority of whom were sickened
with this atmosphere of intrigue, and Petrobey instantly took his
place as his subordinate; but the prince gave him to understand that
it was his wish that the conduct of the siege should continue in
the same hands. Germanos, too, welcomed him cordially, with a due
recognition of his position, for he hoped to win him over to the side
of the church. For the time it seemed that some solution of their
difficulties was imminent, and in the hands of a stronger man, no
doubt, such universally recognized authority would have found a means
of reconciliation.
But Prince Demetrius was terribly unfitted for the responsibility.
His principles were honorable, but by nature he was weak and
undecided. He inclined first to one party, then to another, with no
diplomatic yielding, which will give an inch to gain a yard, but
with the pitiful futility of one who has no knowledge of men, no
habit of command, and no certainty of himself. To the soldiers this
weakness manifested itself openly, and unhappily not erroneously,
in his personal appearance. He was under middle height; his manner,
always stiff and awkward, was sometimes insolent, sometimes timid--an
unfortunate demeanor, for he was neither the one nor the other, but
only excessively self-conscious and shy. His face was thin and pinched,
and his hair, although he was only thirty-two, was already gray and
scanty, giving him a look of premature old age. Being short-sighted,
he blinked and peered, as Mitsos said, like a noonday owl, and his
voice was querulous and high-pitched. Yet he was of an upright mind,
indifferent to danger, and free from the besetting sin of his race,
avarice. All these outward defects corresponded but too well with the
inadequacy of his nature; a strong man with not so honorable a heart as
he had might easily have filled his post better, and the uprightness of
his character, at a crisis where uprightness was the quality wanted,
could not make itself felt, but which to the army and the council was
but the bubbling that came from a man half drowned, when what was
wanted was a firm voice and a loud and no drowning cry. Moreover, he
was morbidly sensitive about his own dignity and position, and there
was something comically tragical to see that puny frame with bent
shoulders presiding over a company of strong men, and hear that little
screechy voice prating of "My wish" and "My command." On one side of
him sat Germanos, courtier-like and full of deference, plying him
with his titles, as the nurse gives suck to a baby, while the prince,
drinking like a child, would be well pleased, and pipe, "What you say
is very true. It is my wish that the church should be fully recognized.
Yes, quite so, my dear archbishop; but I think our friend, the gallant
commander of this army, of which I, as the commander-in-chief, as the
viceroy by the wish of the Hetairia--yes, exactly--has something to say
on the subject."
Then Petrobey would lay before the prince the urgent need of doing one
thing before all others. Tripoli must be taken; surely the claims of
the two parties could be settled afterwards. That was the work most
important to them. For three weeks now since the beginning of June had
they waited at Trikorpha, and the provisions of the array were already
beginning to be exhausted. The herds were being thinned, the lower
pasture was drying up in the summer heat. Must not steps be taken here
at once? And Prince Demetrius would answer something in this manner:
"What you say is very true, my dear Petrobey, and I quite agree with
you that there is no time to be lost. Would you not form a committee
and deliberate what is to be done, and then submit your results to me
to receive my sanction? You spoke, I remember, about the formation of
some cavalry corps; a very wise plan I thought it, and I meant to have
some talk with you about it. But really the days have slipped by so.
Yes, we must, indeed, be up and doing, and my orderly has just informed
me, gentlemen, that dinner is ready; and I shall be pleased to see you,
my dear archbishop, and you, commander, at my table. Dinner will be
served immediately, and our deliberations, gentlemen, in which I think
we may say we have made some solid progress, will be adjourned till
to-morrow at the usual hour."
Nicholas saw that there was no help here, and he set himself to
thwart Germanos with all his power. He considered that the presence
of the primates in the camp rendered the army powerless, for it was
eaten up with intrigue, slander, and incessant accusation, provoking
counter-accusation. At the meetings of the senate he opposed Germanos
on every point, whether or no his suggestions were honorable or
expedient, and allying himself with any one who would join him in
upholding the army against the church, ranged himself side by side
with crooked and unscrupulous men like Poniropoulos and Anagnostes,
mere brigands and adventurers, who, without any motive but their own
greed, had got together a band of peasants, and were in command of a
mere disorderly rabble; men who in his soberer moments he knew were
as detestable as, in his furious anger against Germanos, he thought
the primate to be. Every day the meetings of the senate grew more
and more disorderly, and gradually Prince Demetrius saw that he was
no more than a cypher in the eyes of these men. Of personal ambition
Nicholas had none; honestly and with his whole heart he cared for
nothing but the success of the revolution and the extermination of the
Turk, and he used his great power and influence for the defeat of the
intriguing primates, being convinced that till the question between
the two parties was settled nothing could be done. At any rate, he was
free from all stings of conscience; his conduct might be unwise, but
he acted from impeccable motives, and there was enough truth in his
allegations against Germanos to give them a sting that was wellnigh
unforgivable.
It was already more than half-way through June, and still the army
remained inactive. Petrobey had so far succeeded in rousing the prince
as to permit him to make arrangements for regular supplies being sent
to the camp; but there was still no talk of an assault on Tripoli, or
indeed any preparations for ensuring its success. The senate had met
as usual that morning, and the meeting had degenerated into a fierce
brawl between Anagnostes and Nicholas on the one side, and Germanos
and Charalambes on the other. It was in vain that the prince tried to
restore order; they listened to him no more than to a buzzing fly, when
at length Germanos, bitten to the quick by some intolerable taunt of
Nicholas's, rose from the table, saying he would take no further part
in the deliberations of the senate.
"There must be an end," he said, "to this. How long ago is it,
Nicholas, since you swore allegiance to me?"
"Allegiance in all things in your jurisdiction," replied Nicholas, "and
to the glory of God, not to the glory of Germanos."
The heat of his anger did not excuse the words, and the moment
afterwards every better feeling within him would have had them unsaid,
but Anagnostes, sitting at his elbow, applauded vehemently.
"Silence, you there," said Germanos, in a white anger. "You will hear
my voice no more here; but let me tell you, you are not rid of me. We
will see what the people say to such treatment as that I have been
subjected to."
"Go to the people," shouted Nicholas; "see how the Mainats receive you!"
"The Mainats?" said Germanos; "the Mainats, whom I hold a degree only
above the Turks?"
"My dear archbishop--my dear archbishop," piped the prince.
"But there are true and loyal men in Greece besides those hounds,"
continued Germanos, not even hearing the prince speak.
"Archbishop," said the prince again, with a certain dignity, "I command
you, I order you, to be silent."
Germanos turned round on him, still mad with rage.
"You order, you command?" he said, with infinite scorn, and broke into
a sudden, unnatural laugh.
Prince Demetrius flushed, and on all the senate fell a dead hush. For
once the man showed the dignity of birth and breeding, and standing up,
he faced the angry prelate. His nervous, weak manner had left him; he
rose to the occasion.
"You will please to take your seat, archbishop," he said. "I have a few
words to say."
Germanos looked round and saw on all sides eager, attentive faces bent,
not on him, but on the prince. His anger still burned like fire within
him, and he paused not to consider.
"I prefer to leave the room," he said. "I take no further part in these
proceedings."
"You choose to disregard my request," said the prince, and with that
his voice rose sudden and screaming and fierce; "I will therefore
order--Sit down!" he cried.
Germanos's anger went out as suddenly as lightning at night is followed
by darkness, and he realized what he had done. The prince's favor
he had forfeited hopelessly, and though the prince was nothing, he
had forgotten in the man's insignificance the power he represented.
Henceforth he would have to fight without the expectancy of help from
there; and feeling his schemes already threatening to totter and fall
about his head, in sheer blank bewilderment he sat down.
The prince stood silent a moment and then spoke.
"I feel," he said, "that all the good I hoped to do, and all the
efforts I wished to make for the great cause, are not to be fulfilled.
With the exception of the commander of this army, the senate generally
have chosen to disregard my presence here. From Petrobey, however,
I have always had courtesy and respect. The party of the church, in
particular, has chosen to adopt an insolent demeanor towards me, the
like of which I accept from no man. You have seen, gentlemen, the
example their head has given them. I regret the decision which I
have long thought was possible, but which has been forced upon me.
Gentlemen, I leave the camp to-day. The meeting is adjourned."
Then turning to Petrobey, and bowing to the rest:
"Come with me," he said; "we will leave this assembly together," and
taking his arm, he left the room.
Half an hour later he quitted the camp with a small guard, leaving the
rest of his retinue to follow as quickly as they could get ready. But
the news of his departure and the reason for it spread like wildfire
through Trikorpha, and the men, who still regarded him, partly because
of the marked favor he showed to Petrobey, partly from the prestige of
the revolutionary Hetairia which he represented, as their champion,
were wildly indignant with the primates. A riot nearly ensued, and had
not Petrobey and other commanders, notably Nicholas himself, had them
guarded in a place of safety, it is not improbable that some would
have been murdered. Germanos, however, who, whatever his faults were,
was perfectly fearless, refused all protection, and when one of the
Mainats passing near him, spit at him, the archbishop dealt the man
a blow which knocked him off his feet, and passed on without hurry
or discomposure, though he was in the middle of the clan. But the
Mainats, who were without a particle of reverence for him, but had a
deep respect for personal pluck, appreciated the act fully and made
no attempt to stop him, though a minute before it was very doubtful
whether he would have reached his quarters alive.
All day the feeling in the camp against the primates rose higher and
higher, for, from the soldiers' point of view, the prince was their
protector not only against them, but their own commanders, who, as the
primates had told them, rousing suspicion if not belief in their minds,
were employed in making private arrangements with the Turks, promising
them their lives in exchange for their property. No one, it is true,
had breathed a suspicion about either Petrobey or Nicholas, for they
stood beyond any shadow of scandal, and for the time the ugly thoughts
the primates had suggested were cast aside in the fierce indignation
excited by the immediate cause of the withdrawal of the prince, for
which the primates alone were to be thanked. A knot of angry men
assembled outside the building where primates and muskets were stored,
demanding that they should be given up to be dealt with as they
deserved; and, indeed, such a fate was not unmerited, and it would have
saved a world of trouble to Petrobey. For they were responsible for all
this doubt and division; they were traitors in the camp, and in time of
war a traitor is worse than a regiment of foes. Next day there was no
abatement of popular feeling, and in the afternoon the whole body of
commanders and captains went to Petrobey, after exacting a promise from
their men of quietude in their absence, asking that the prince might be
petitioned to return, for his absence could but end in one thing, the
death of all the primates, either with the authority of the commanders,
or, in default of that, by mutiny.
Petrobey readily consented to go in person, for things were at an
absolute _impasse_, and without the prince's co-operation and presence
he was really afraid that the worst might happen, and in the name of
the entire army, and with the earnest appeals of the primates, he
waited upon him at Leondari, a revolted town not far from Megalopolis.
The prince at first hesitated, or seemed to hesitate, but privately
he was very much gratified at what seemed so universal a mark of
confidence; for on thinking his action over, it had appeared to him
that he must cut but a sorry figure if he returned to the Hetairia,
saying that the army disregarded his authority and met his commands
with insolence, while if he came back, his withdrawal assumed the
aspect of a most successful piece of diplomacy. Accordingly, at the end
of the week he returned amid the welcoming acclamations of the army,
and was pleased to accept--having insisted on the same--the apology of
Germanos, which was bitter herbs to that proud man, but to Nicholas as
sweet as honey in the mouth.
Throughout July, but waning with the moon, continued the reign of that
incompetent, but honest man, Prince Demetrius. His indecision amounted
to a disease of the mind; he seemed morally incapable of acting, or,
through his pretentious viceregal claims, of letting others act for
him; a creature afflicted with acute paralysis of will. Inside Tripoli
there was still no famine of food or water, and though Achmet Bey saw
that escape was impossible, for the weakness of the troops inside would
have rendered an attempt to cut through the occupations on the hills
quite hopeless, yet he was in no mind to surrender when no attempts
were made to induce him to do so. There were provisions in the camp
which would last three months more, for the harvest had been got in
before the occupation of Valtetzi; the ravages of the Greeks had
destroyed only the villages and the winter crops, and Mehemet Salik
remarked one morning that one seemed safer in Tripoli than anywhere
else.
And the hot month throbbed by, while to the Greeks every day's close
saw another day lost.