Sent back to Artigues, he was interrogated in prison by the judge of
Rieux, and confessed his imposture at great length. He said the idea
first occurred to him when, having returned from the camp in Picardy, he
was addressed as Martin Guerre by several intimate friends of the
latter. He then inquired as to the sort of life, the habits and
relations of, this man, and having contrived to be near him, had watched
him closely during the battle. He saw him fall, carried him away, and
then, as the reader has already seen, excited his delirium to the utmost
in order to obtain possession of his secrets. Having thus explained his
successful imposture by natural causes, which excluded any idea of magic
or sorcery, he protested his penitence, implored the mercy of God, and
prepared himself for execution as became a Christian.
The next day, while the populace, collecting from the whole
neighbourhood, had assembled before the parish church of Artigues in
order to behold the penance of the criminal, who, barefoot, attired in a
shirt, and holding a lighted torch in his hand, knelt at the entrance of
the church, another scene, no less painful, took place in the house of
Martin Guerre. Exhausted by her suffering, which had caused a premature
confinement, Bertrande lay on her couch of pain, and besought pardon
from him whom she had innocently wronged, entreating him also to pray
for her soul. Martin Guerre, sitting at her bedside, extended his hand
and blessed her. She took his hand and held it to her lips; she could no
longer speak. All at once a loud noise was heard outside: the guilty man
had just been executed in front of the house. When finally attached to
the gallows, he uttered a terrible cry, which was answered by another
from inside the house. The same evening, while the body of the
malefactor was being consumed by fire, the remains of a mother and child
were laid to rest in consecrated ground.
*ALI PACHA*
CHAPTER I
The beginning of the nineteenth century was a time of audacious
enterprises and strange vicissitudes of fortune. Whilst Western Europe
in turn submitted and struggled against a sub-lieutenant who made
himself an emperor, who at his pleasure made kings and destroyed
kingdoms, the ancient eastern part of the Continent; like mummies which
preserve but the semblance of life, was gradually tumbling to pieces,
and getting parcelled out amongst bold adventurers who skirmished over
its ruins. Without mentioning local revolts which produced only
short-lived struggles and trifling changes, of administration, such as
that of Djezzar Pacha, who refused to pay tribute because he thought
himself impregnable in his citadel of Saint-Jean-d’Acre, or that of
Passevend-Oglou Pacha, who planted himself on the walls of Widdin as
defender of the Janissaries against the institution of the regular
militia decreed by Sultan Selim at Stamboul, there were wider spread
rebellions which attacked the constitution of the Turkish Empire and
diminished its extent; amongst them that of Czerni-Georges, which raised
Servia to the position of a free state; of Mahomet Ali, who made his
pachalik of Egypt into a kingdom; and finally that of the man whose,
history we are about to narrate, Ali Tepeleni, Pacha of Janina, whose
long resistance to the suzerain power preceded and brought about the
regeneration of Greece.
Ali’s own will counted for nothing in this important movement. He
foresaw it, but without ever seeking to aid it, and was powerless to
arrest it. He was not one of those men who place their lives and
services at the disposal of any cause indiscriminately; and his sole aim
was to acquire and increase a power of which he was both the guiding
influence, and the end and object. His nature contained the seeds of
every human passion, and he devoted all his long life to their
development and gratification. This explains his whole temperament; his
actions were merely the natural outcome of his character confronted with
circumstances. Few men have understood themselves better or been on
better terms with the orbit of their existence, and as the personality
of an individual is all the more striking, in proportion as it reflects
the manners and ideas of the time and country in which he has lived, so
the figure of Ali Pacha stands out, if not one of the most brilliant, at
least one of the most singular in contemporary history.
From the middle of the eighteenth century Turkey had been a prey to the
political gangrene of which she is vainly trying to cure herself to-day,
and which, before long, will dismember her in the sight of all Europe.
Anarchy and disorder reigned from one end of the empire to the other.
The Osmanli race, bred on conquest alone, proved good for nothing when
conquest failed. It naturally therefore came to pass when Sobieski, who
saved Christianity under the walls of Vienna, as before his time Charles
Martel had saved it on the plains of Poitiers, had set bounds to the
wave of Mussulman westward invasion, and definitely fixed a limit which
it should not pass, that the Osmanli warlike instincts recoiled upon
themselves. The haughty descendants of Ortogrul, who considered
themselves born to command, seeing victory forsake them, fell back upon
tyranny. Vainly did reason expostulate that oppression could not long be
exercised by hands which had lost their strength, and that peace imposed
new and different labours on those who no longer triumphed in war; they
would listen to nothing; and, as fatalistic when condemned to a state of
peace as when they marched forth conquering and to conquer, they cowered
down in magnificent listlessness, leaving the whole burden of their
support on conquered peoples. Like ignorant farmers, who exhaust fertile
fields by forcing crops; they rapidly ruined their vast and rich empire
by exorbitant exactions. Inexorable conquerors and insatiable masters,
with one hand they flogged their slaves and with the other plundered
them. Nothing was superior to their insolence, nothing on a level with
their greed. They were never glutted, and never relaxed their
extortions. But in proportion as their needs increased on the one hand,
so did their resources diminish on the other. Their oppressed subjects
soon found that they must escape at any cost from oppressors whom they
could neither appease nor satisfy. Each population took the steps best
suited to its position and character; some chose inertia, others
violence. The inhabitants of the plains, powerless and shelterless, bent
like reeds before the storm and evaded the shock against which they were
unable to stand. The mountaineers planted themselves like rocks in a
torrent, and dammed its course with all their might. On both sides arose
a determined resistance, different in method, similar in result. In the
case of the peasants labour came to a stand-still; in that of the hill
folk open war broke out. The grasping exactions of the tyrant dominant
body produced nothing from waste lands and armed mountaineers;
destitution and revolt were equally beyond their power to cope with; and
all that was left for tyranny to govern was a desert enclosed by a wall.
But, all the same, the wants of a magnificent sultan, descendant of the
Prophet and distributor of crowns, must be supplied; and to do this, the
Sublime Porte needed money. Unconsciously imitating the Roman Senate,
the Turkish Divan put up the empire for sale by public auction. All
employments were sold to the highest bidder; pachas, beys, cadis,
ministers of every rank, and clerks of every class had to buy their
posts from their sovereign and get the money back out of his subjects.
They spent their money in the capital, and recuperated themselves in the
provinces. And as there was no other law than their master’s pleasure,
so there, was no other guarantee than his caprice. They had therefore to
set quickly to work; the post might be lost before its cost had been
recovered. Thus all the science of administration resolved itself into
plundering as much and as quickly as possible. To this end, the delegate
of imperial power delegated in his turn, on similar conditions, other
agents to seize for him and for themselves all they could lay their
hands on; so that the inhabitants of the empire might be divided into
three classes—those who were striving to seize everything; those who
were trying to save a little; and those who, having nothing and hoping
for nothing, took no interest in affairs at all.
Albania was one of the most difficult provinces to manage. Its
inhabitants were poor, brave, and, the nature of the country was
mountainous and inaccessible. The pashas had great difficulty in
collecting tribute, because the people were given to fighting for their
bread. Whether Mahomedans or Christians, the Albanians were above all
soldiers. Descended on the one side from the unconquerable Scythians, on
the other from the ancient Macedonians, not long since masters of the
world; crossed with Norman adventurers brought eastwards by the great
movement of the Crusades; they felt the blood of warriors flow in their
veins, and that war was their element. Sometimes at feud with one
another, canton against canton, village against village, often even
house against house; sometimes rebelling against the government their
sanjaks; sometimes in league with these against the sultan; they never
rested from combat except in an armed peace. Each tribe had its military
organisation, each family its fortified stronghold, each man his gun on
his shoulder. When they had nothing better to do, they tilled their
fields, or mowed their neighbours’, carrying off, it should be noted,
the crop; or pastured their, flocks, watching the opportunity to
trespass over pasture limits. This was the normal and regular life of
the population of Epirus, Thesprotia, Thessaly, and Upper Albania. Lower
Albania, less strong, was also less active and bold; and there, as in
many other parts of Turkey, the dalesman was often the prey of the
mountaineer. It was in the mountain districts where were preserved the
recollections of Scander Beg, and where the manners of ancient Laconia
prevailed; the deeds of the brave soldier were sung on the lyre, and the
skilful robber quoted as an example to the children by the father of the
family. Village feasts were held on the booty taken from strangers; and
the favourite dish was always a stolen sheep. Every man was esteemed in
proportion to his skill and courage, and a man’s chances of making a
good match were greatly enhanced when he acquired the reputation of
being an agile mountaineer and a good bandit.
The Albanians proudly called this anarchy liberty, and religiously
guarded a state of disorder bequeathed by their ancestors, which always
assured the first place to the most valiant.
It was amidst men and manners such as these that Ali Tepeleni was born.
He boasted that he belonged to the conquering race, and that he
descended from an ancient Anatolian family which had crossed into
Albania with the troops of Bajazet Ilderim. But it is made certain by
the learned researches of M. de Pouqueville that he sprang from a native
stock, and not an Asiatic one, as he pretended. His ancestors were
Christian Skipetars, who became Mussulmans after the Turkish invasion,
and his ancestry certainly cannot be traced farther back than the end of
the sixteenth century.
Mouktar Tepeleni, his grandfather, perished in the Turkish expedition
against Corfu, in 1716. Marshal Schullemburg, who defended the island,
having repulsed the enemy with loss, took Mouktar prisoner on Mount San
Salvador, where he was in charge of a signalling party, and with a
barbarity worthy of his adversaries, hung him without trial. It must be
admitted that the memory of this murder must have had the effect of
rendering Ali badly disposed towards Christians.
Mouktar left three sons, two of whom, Salik and Mahomet, were born of
the same mother, a lawful wife, but the mother of the youngest, Veli,
was a slave. His origin was no legal bar to his succeeding like his
brothers. The family was one of the richest in the town of Tepelen,
whose name it bore, it enjoyed an income of six thousand piastres, equal
to twenty thousand francs. This was a large fortune in a poor country,
where, all commodities were cheap. But the Tepeleni family, holding the
rank of beys, had to maintain a state like that of the great financiers
of feudal Europe. They had to keep a large stud of horses, with a great
retinue of servants and men-at-arms, and consequently to incur heavy
expenses; thus they constantly found their revenue inadequate. The most
natural means of raising it which occurred to them was to diminish the
number of those who shared it; therefore the two elder brothers, sons of
the wife, combined against Veli, the son of the slave, and drove him out
of the house. The latter, forced to leave home, bore his fate like a
brave man, and determined to levy exactions on others to compensate him
for the losses incurred through his brothers. He became a freebooter,
patrolling highroads and lanes, with his gun on his shoulder and his
yataghan in his belt, attacking, holding for ransom, or plundering all
whom he encountered.
After some years of this profitable business, he found himself a wealthy
man and chief of a warlike band. Judging that the moment for vengeance
had arrived, he marched for Tepelen, which he reached unsuspected,
crossed the river Vojutza, the ancient Aous, penetrated the streets
unresisted, and presented himself before the paternal house, in which
his brothers, forewarned, had barricaded themselves. He at once besieged
them, soon forced the gates, and pursued them to a tent, in which they
took a final refuge. He surrounded this tent, waited till they were
inside it, and then set fire to the four corners. "See," said he to
those around him, "they cannot accuse me of vindictive reprisals; my
brothers drove me out of doors, and I retaliate by keeping them at home
for ever."
In a few moments he was his father’s sole heir and master of Tepelen.
Arrived at the summit of his ambition, he gave up free-booting, and
established himself in the town, of which he became chief ago. He had
already a son by a slave, who soon presented him with another son, and
afterwards with a daughter, so that he had no reason to fear dying
without an heir. But finding himself rich enough to maintain more wives
and bring up many children, he desired to increase his credit by allying
himself to some great family of the country. He therefore solicited and
obtained the hand of Kamco, daughter of a bey of Conitza. This marriage
attached him by the ties of relationship to the principal families of
the province, among others to Kourd Pacha, Vizier of Serat, who was
descended from the illustrious race of Scander Beg. After a few years,
Veli had by his new wife a son named Ali, the subject of this history,
and a daughter named Chainitza.
In spite of his intentions to reform, Veli could not entirely give up
his old habits. Although his fortune placed him altogether above small
gains and losses, he continued to amuse himself by raiding from time to
time sheep, goats, and other perquisites, probably to keep his hand in.
This innocent exercise of his taste was not to the fancy of his
neighbours, and brawls and fights recommenced in fine style. Fortune did
not always favour him, and the old mountaineer lost in the town part of
what he had made on the hills. Vexations soured his temper and injured
his health. Notwithstanding the injunctions of Mahomet, he sought
consolation in wine, which soon closed his career. He died in 1754.
CHAPTER II
Ali thus at thirteen years of age was free to indulge in the impetuosity
of his character. From his early youth he had manifested a mettle and
activity rare in young Turks, haughty by nature and self-restrained by
education. Scarcely out of the nursery, he spent his time in climbing
mountains, wandering through forests, scaling precipices, rolling in
snow, inhaling the wind, defying the tempests, breathing out his nervous
energy through every pore. Possibly he learnt in the midst of every kind
of danger to brave everything and subdue everything; possibly in
sympathy with the majesty of nature, he felt aroused in him a need of
personal grandeur which nothing could satiate. In vain his father sought
to calm his savage temper; and restrain his vagabond spirit; nothing was
of, any use. As obstinate as intractable, he set at defiance all efforts
and all precautions. If they shut him up, he broke the door or jumped
out of the window; if they threatened him, he pretended to comply,
conquered by fear, and promised everything that was required, but only
to break his word the first opportunity. He had a tutor specially
attached to his person and charged to supervise all his actions. He
constantly deluded him by fresh tricks, and when he thought himself free
from the consequences, he maltreated him with gross violence. It was
only in his youth, after his father’s death, that he became more
manageable; he even consented to learn to read, to please his mother,
whose idol he was, and to whom in return he gave all his affection.
If Kamco had so strong a liking for Ali, it was because she found in
him, not only her blood, but also her character. During the lifetime of
her husband, whom she feared, she seemed only an ordinary woman; but as
soon as his eyes were closed, she gave free scope to the violent
passions which agitated her bosom. Ambitious, bold, vindictive; she
assiduously cultivated the germs of ambition, hardihood, and vengeance
which already strongly showed themselves in the young Ali. "My son," she
was never tired of telling him, "he who cannot defend his patrimony
richly deserves to lose it. Remember that the property of others is only
theirs so long as they are strong enough to keep it, and that when you
find yourself strong enough to take it from them, it is yours. Success
justifies everything, and everything is permissible to him who has the
power to do it."
Ali, when he reached the zenith of his greatness, used to declare that
his success was entirely his mother’s work. "I owe everything to my
mother," he said one day to the French Consul; "for my father, when he
died, left me nothing but a den of wild beasts and a few fields. My
imagination, inflamed by the counsels of her who has given me life twice
over, since she has made me both a man and a vizier, revealed to me the
secret of my destiny. Thenceforward I saw nothing in Tepelen but the
natal air from which I was to spring on the prey which I devoured
mentally. I dreamt of nothing else but power, treasures, palaces, in
short what time has realised and still promises; for the point I have
now reached is not the limit of my hopes."
Kamco did not confine herself to words; she employed every means to
increase the fortune of her beloved son and to make him a power. Her
first care was to poison the children of Veli’s favourite slave, who had
died before him. Then, at ease about the interior of her family, she
directed her attention to the exterior. Renouncing all the habit of her
sex, she abandoned the veil and the distaff, and took up arms, under
pretext of maintaining the rights of her children. She collected round
her her husband’s old partisans, whom she attached to her, service, some
by presents, others by various favours, and she gradually enlisted all
the lawless and adventurous men in Toscaria. With their aid, she made
herself all powerful in Tepelen, and inflicted the most rigorous
persecutions on such as remained hostile to her.
But the inhabitants of the two adjacent villages of Kormovo and Kardiki,
fearing lest this terrible woman, aided by her son, now grown into a
man, should strike a blow against their independence; made a secret
alliance against her, with the object of putting her out of the way the
first convenient opportunity. Learning one day that Ali had started on a
distant expedition with his best soldiers; they surprised Tepelen under
cover of night, and carried off Kamco and her daughter Chainitza
captives to Kardiki. It was proposed to put them to death; and
sufficient evidence to justify their execution was not wanting; but
their beauty saved their lives; their captors preferred to revenge
themselves by licentiousness rather than by murder. Shut up all day in
prison, they only emerged at night to pass into the arms of the men who
had won them by lot the previous morning. This state of things lasted
for a month, at the end of which a Greek of Argyro-Castron, named G.
Malicovo, moved by compassion for their horrible fate, ransomed them for
twenty thousand piastres, and took them back to Tepelen.
Ali had just returned. He was accosted by his mother and sister, pale
with fatigue, shame, and rage. They told him what had taken place, with
cries and tears, and Kamco added, fixing her distracted eyes upon him,
"My son! my son! my soul will enjoy no peace till Kormovo and Kardikil
destroyed by thy scimitar, will no longer exist to bear witness to my
dishonour."
Ali, in whom this sight and this story had aroused, sanguinary passions,
promised a vengeance proportioned to the outrage, and worked with all
his might to place himself in a position to keep his word. A worthy son
of his father, he had commenced life in the fashion of the heroes of
ancient Greece, stealing sheep and goats, and from the age of fourteen
years he had acquired an equal reputation to that earned by the son of
Jupiter and Maia. When he grew to manhood, he extended his operations.
At the time of which we are speaking, he had long practised open
pillage. His plundering expeditions added to his mother’s savings, who
since her return from Kardiki had altogether withdrawn from public life,
and devoted herself to household duties, enabled him to collect a
considerable force for an expedition against Kormovo, one of the two
towns he had sworn to destroy. He marched against it at the head of his
banditti, but found himself vigorously opposed, lost part of his force,
and was obliged to save himself and the rest by flight. He did not stop
till he reached Tepelen, where he had a warm reception from Kamco, whose
thirst for vengeance had been disappointed by his defeat. "Go!" said
she, "go, coward! go spin with the women in the harem! The distaff is a
better weapon for you than the scimitar!" The young man answered not a
word, but, deeply wounded by these reproaches, retired to hide his
humiliation in the bosom of his old friend the mountain. The popular
legend, always thirsting for the marvellous in the adventures of heroes,
has it that he found in the ruins of a church a treasure which enabled
him to reconstitute his party. But he himself has contradicted this
story, stating that it was by the ordinary methods of rapine and plunder
that he replenished his finances. He selected from his old band of
brigands thirty palikars, and entered, as their bouloubachi, or leader
of the group, into the service of the Pacha of Negropont. But he soon
tired of the methodical life he was obliged to lead, and passed into
Thessaly, where, following the example of his father Veli, he employed
his time in brigandage on the highways. Thence he raided the Pindus
chain of mountains, plundered a great number of villages, and returned
to Tepelen, richer and consequently more esteemed than ever.
He employed his fortune and influence in collecting a formidable
guerilla force, and resumed his plundering operations. Kurd Pacha soon
found himself compelled, by the universal outcry of the province, to
take active measures against this young brigand. He sent against him a
division of troops, which defeated him and brought him prisoner with his
men to Berat, the capital of Central Albania and residence of the
governor. The country flattered itself that at length it was freed from
its scourge. The whole body of bandits was condemned to death; but Ali
was not the man to surrender his life so easily. Whilst they were
hanging his comrades, he threw himself at the feet of the pacha and
begged for mercy in the name of his parents, excusing himself on account
of his youth, and promising a lasting reform. The pacha, seeing at his
feet a comely youth, with fair hair and blue eyes, a persuasive voice,
and eloquent tongue, and in whose veins flowed the same blood as his
own, was moved with pity and pardoned him. Ali got off with a mild
captivity in the palace of his powerful relative, who heaped benefits
upon him, and did all he could to lead him into the paths of probity. He
appeared amenable to these good influences, and bitterly to repent his
past errors. After some years, believing in his reformation, and moved
by the prayers of Kamco, who incessantly implored the restitution of her
dear son, the generous pacha restored him his liberty, only giving him
to under stand that he had no more mercy to expect if he again disturbed
the public peace. Ali taking the threat seriously; did not run the risk
of braving it, and, on the contrary, did all he could to conciliate the
man whose anger he dared not kindle. Not only did he keep the promise he
had made to live quietly, but by his good conduct he caused his, former
escapades to be forgotten, putting under obligation all his neighbours,
and attaching to himself, through the services he rendered them, a great
number of friendly disposed persons. In this manner he soon assumed a
distinguished and honourable rank among the beys of the country, and
being of marriageable age, he sought and formed an alliance with the
daughter of Capelan Tigre, Pacha of Delvino, who resided at
Argyro-Castron. This union, happy on both sides, gave him, with one of
the most accomplished women in Epirus, a high position and great
influence.
It seemed as if this marriage were destined to wean Ali forever from his
former turbulent habits and wild adventures. But the family into which
he had married afforded violent contrasts and equal elements of good and
mischief. If Emineh, his wife, was a model of virtue, his father-in-law,
Capelan, was a composition of every vice—selfish, ambitious, turbulent,
fierce. Confident in his courage, and further emboldened by his
remoteness from the capital, the Pacha of Delvino gloried in setting law
and authority at defiance.
Ali’s disposition was too much like that of his father-in-law to prevent
him from taking his measure very quickly. He soon got on good terms with
him, and entered into his schemes, waiting for an opportunity to
denounce him and become his successor. For this opportunity he had not
long to wait.
Capelan’s object in giving his daughter to Tepeleni was to enlist him
among the beys of the province to gain independence, the ruling passion
of viziers. The cunning young man pretended to enter into the views of
his father-in-law, and did all he could to urge him into the path of
rebellion.
An adventurer named Stephano Piccolo, an emissary of Russia, had just
raised in Albania the standard of the Cross and called to arms all the
Christians of the Acroceraunian Mountains. The Divan sent orders to all
the pachas of Northern Turkey in Europe to instantly march against the
insurgents and quell the rising in blood.
Instead of obeying the orders of the Divan and joining Kurd Pacha, who
had summoned him, Capelan, at the instigation of his son-in-law, did all
he could to embarrass the movement of the imperial troops, and without
openly making common cause with the insurgents, he rendered them
substantial aid in their resistance. They were, notwithstanding,
conquered and dispersed; and their chief, Stephano Piccolo, had to take
refuge in the unexplored caves of Montenegro.
When the struggle was over, Capelan, as Ali had foreseen, was summoned
to give an account of his conduct before the roumeli-valicy, supreme
judge over Turkey in Europe. He was not only accused of the gravest
offences, but proofs of them were forwarded to the Divan by the very man
who had instigated them. There could be no doubt as to the result of the
inquiry; therefore, the pacha, who had no suspicions of his son-in-law’s
duplicity, determined not to leave his pachalik. That was not in
accordance with the plans of Ali, who wished to succeed to both the
government and the wealth of his father-in-law. He accordingly made the
most plausible remonstrances against the inefficacy and danger of such a
resistance. To refuse to plead was tantamount to a confession of guilt,
and was certain to bring on his head a storm against which he was
powerless to cope, whilst if he obeyed the orders of the roumeli-valicy
he would find it easy to excuse himself. To give more effect to his
perfidious advice, Ali further employed the innocent Emineh, who was
easily alarmed on her father’s account. Overcome by the reasoning of his
son-in-law and the tears of his daughter, the unfortunate pacha
consented to go to Monastir, where he had been summoned to appear, and
where he was immediately arrested and beheaded.
Ali’s schemes had succeeded, but both his ambition and his cupidity were
frustrated. Ali, Bey of Argyro-Castron, who had throughout shown himself
devoted to the sultan, was nominated Pacha of Delvino in place of
Capelan. He sequestered all the property of his predecessor, as
confiscated to the sultan, and thus deprived Ali Tepeleni of all the
fruits of his crime.
This disappointment kindled the wrath of the ambitious Ali. He swore
vengeance for the spoliation of which he considered himself the victim.
But the moment was not favourable for putting his projects in train. The
murder of Capelan, which its perpetrator intended for a mere crime,
proved a huge blunder. The numerous enemies of Tepeleni, silent under
the administration of the late pacha, whose resentment they had cause to
fear, soon made common cause under the new one, for whose support they
had hopes. Ali saw the danger, sought and found the means to obviate it.
He succeeded in making a match between Ali of Argyro-Castron, who was
unmarried, and Chainitza, his own sister. This alliance secured to him
the government of Tigre, which he held under Capelan. But that was not
sufficient. He must put himself in a state of security against the
dangers he had lately, experienced, and establish himself on a firm
footing’ against possible accidents. He soon formed a plan, which he
himself described to the French Consul in the following words:—
"Years were elapsing," said he, "and brought no important change in my
position. I was an important partisan, it is true, and strongly
supported, but I held no title or Government employment of my own. I
recognised the necessity of establishing myself firmly in my birthplace.
I had devoted friends, and formidable foes, bent on my destruction, whom
I must put out of the way, for my own safety. I set about a plan for
destroying them at one blow, and ended by devising one with which I
ought to have commenced my career. Had I done so, I should have saved
much time and pains.
"I was in the habit of going every day, after hunting, for a siesta in a
neighbouring wood. A confidential servant of mine suggested to my
enemies the idea of surprising me and assassinating one there. I myself
supplied the plan of the conspiracy, which was adopted. On the day
agreed upon, I preceded my adversaries to the place where I was
accustomed to repose, and caused a goat to be pinioned and muzzled, and
fastened under the tree, covered with my cape; I then returned home by a
roundabout path. Soon after I had left, the conspirators arrived, and
fired a volley at the goat.
"They ran up to make certain of my death, but were interrupted by a
piquet of my men, who unexpectedly emerged from a copse where I had
posted them, and they were obliged to return to Tepelen, which they
entered, riotous with joy, crying ’Ali Bey is dead, now we are free!’
This news reached my harem, and I heard the cries of my mother and my
wife mingled with the shouts of my enemies. I allowed the commotion to
run its course and reach its height, so as to indicate which were my
friends and which my foes. But when the former were at the depth of
their distress and the latter at the height of their joy, and, exulting
in their supposed victory, had drowned their prudence and their courage
in floods of wine, then, strong in the justice of my cause, I appeared
upon the scene. Now was the time for my friends to triumph and for my
foes to tremble. I set to work at the head of my partisans, and before
sunrise had exterminated the last of my enemies. I distributed their
lands, their houses, and their goods amongst my followers, and from that
moment I could call the town of Tepelen my own."
A less ambitious man might perhaps have remained satisfied with such a
result. But Ali did not look upon the suzerainty of a canton as a final
object, but only as a means to an end; and he had not made himself
master of Tepelen to limit himself to a petty state, but to employ it as
a base of operations.
He had allied himself to Ali of Argyro-Castron to get rid of his
enemies; once free from them, he began to plot against his supplanter.
He forgot neither his vindictive projects nor his ambitious schemes. As
prudent in execution as bold in design, he took good care not to openly
attack a man stronger than himself, and gained by stratagem what he
could not obtain by violence. The honest and straightforward character
of his brother-in-law afforded an easy success to his perfidy. He began
by endeavouring to suborn his sister Chainitza, and several times
proposed to her to poison her husband; but she, who dearly loved the
pacha, who was a kind husband and to whom she had borne two children,
repulsed his suggestions with horror, and threatened, if he persisted,
to denounce him. Ali, fearing the consequences if she carried out her
threat, begged forgiveness for his wicked plans, pretended deep
repentance, and spoke of his brother-in-law in terms of the warmest
affection. His acting was so consummate that even Chainitza, who well
knew her brother’s subtle character, was deceived by it. When he saw
that she was his dupe, knowing that he had nothing more either to fear
or to hope for from that side, he directed his attention to another.
The pacha had a brother named Soliman, whose character nearly resembled
that of Tepeleni. The latter, after having for some time quietly studied
him, thought he discerned in him the man he wanted; he tempted him to
kill the pacha, offering him, as the price of this crime, his whole
inheritance and the hand of Chainitza, only reserving for himself the
long coveted sanjak. Soliman accepted the proposals, and the fratricidal
bargain was concluded. The two conspirators, sole masters of the secret,
the horrible nature of which guaranteed their mutual fidelity, and
having free access to the person of their victim; could not fail in
their object.
One day, when they were both received by the pacha in private audience,
Soliman, taking advantage of a moment when he was unobserved, drew a
pistol from his belt and blew out his brother’s brains. Chainitza ran at
the sound, and saw her husband lying dead between her brother and her
brother-in-law. Her cries for help were stopped by threats of death if
she moved or uttered a sound. As she lay, fainting with grief and
terror, Ali made, a sign to Soliman, who covered her with his cloak, and
declared her his wife. Ali pronounced the marriage concluded, and
retired for it to be consummated. Thus was celebrated this frightful
wedding, in the scene of an awful crime; beside the corpse of a man who
a moment before had been the husband of the bride and the brother of the
bridegroom.
The assassins published the death of the pacha, attributing it, as is
usual in Turkey, to a fit of cerebral apoplexy. But the truth soon
leaked out from the lying shrouds in which it had been wrapped. Reports
even exceeded the truth, and public opinion implicated Chainitza in a
crime of which she had been but the witness. Appearances certainly
justified these suspicions. The young wife had soon consoled herself in
the arms of her second husband for the loss of the first, and her son by
him presently died suddenly, thus leaving Soliman in lawful and peaceful
possession of all his brother’s wealth. As for the little girl, as she
had no rights and could hurt no one, her life was spared; and she was
eventually married to a bey of Cleisoura, destined in the sequel to cut
a tragic figure in the history of the Tepeleni family.
But Ali was once more deprived of the fruit of his bloody schemes.
Notwithstanding all his intrigues, the sanjak of Delvino was conferred,
not upon him, but upon a bey of one of the first families of Zapouria.
But, far from being discouraged, he recommenced with new boldness and
still greater confidence the work of his elevation, so often begun and
so often interrupted. He took advantage of his increasing influence to
ingratiate himself with the new pasha, and was so successful in
insinuating himself into his confidence, that he was received into the
palace and treated like the pacha’s son. There he acquired complete
knowledge of the details of the pachalik and the affairs of the pacha,
preparing himself to govern the one when he had got rid of the other.
The sanjak of Delvino was bounded from Venetian territory by the
district of Buthrotum. Selim, a better neighbour and an abler politician
than his predecessors, sought to renew and preserve friendly commercial
relations with the purveyors of the Magnificent Republic. This wise
conduct, equally advantageous for both the bordering provinces, instead
of gaining for the pacha the praise and favours which he deserved,
rendered him suspected at a court whose sole political idea was hatred
of the name of Christian, and whose sole means of government was terror.
Ali immediately perceived the pacha’s error, and the advantage which he
himself could derive from it. Selim, as one of his commercial
transactions with the Venetians, had sold them, for a number of years,
the right of felling timber in a forest near Lake Reloda. Ali
immediately took advantage of this to denounce the pasha as guilty of
having alienated the territory of the Sublime Porte, and of a desire to
deliver to the infidels all the province of Delvino. Masking his
ambitious designs under the veil of religion and patriotism, he
lamented, in his denunciatory report, the necessity under which he found
himself, as a loyal subject and faithful Mussulman, of accusing a man
who had been his benefactor, and thus at the same time gained the
benefit of crime and the credit of virtue.
Under the gloomy despotism of the Turks, a man in any position of
responsibility is condemned almost as soon as accused; and if he is not
strong enough to inspire terror, his ruin is certain. Ali received at
Tepelen, where he had retired to more conveniently weave his perfidious
plots, an order to get rid of the pacha. At the receipt of the firman of
execution he leaped with joy, and flew to Delvino to seize the prey
which was abandoned to him.
The noble Selim, little suspecting that his protege had become his
accuser and was preparing to become his executioner, received him with
more tenderness than ever, and lodged him, as heretofore, in his palace.
Under the shadow of this hospitable roof, Ali skilfully prepared the
consummation of the crime which was for ever to draw him out of
obscurity. He went every morning to pay his court to the pacha, whose
confidence he doubted; then, one day, feigning illness, he sent excuses
for inability to pay his respects to a man whom he was accustomed to
regard as his father, and begged him to come for a moment into his
apartment. The invitation being accepted, he concealed assassins in one
of the cupboards without shelves, so common in the East, which contain
by day the mattresses spread by night on the floor for the slaves to
sleep upon. At the hour fixed, the old man arrived. Ali rose from his
sofa with a depressed air, met him, kissed the hem of his robe, and,
after seating him in his place, himself offered him a pipe-and coffee,
which were accepted. But instead of putting the cup in the hand
stretched to receive it, he let it fall on the floor, where it broke
into a thousand pieces. This was the signal. The assassins sprang from
their retreat and darted upon Selim, who fell, exclaiming, like Caesar,
"And it is thou, my son, who takest my life!"
At the sound of the tumult which followed the assassination, Selim’s
bodyguard, running up, found Ali erect, covered with blood, surrounded
by assassins, holding in his hand the firman displayed, and crying with
a menacing voice, "I have killed the traitor Selim by the order of our
glorious sultan; here is his imperial command." At these words, and the
sight of the fatal diploma, all prostrated themselves terror-stricken.
Ali, after ordering the decapitation of Selim, whose head he seized as a
trophy, ordered the cadi, the beys, and the Greek archons to meet at the
palace, to prepare the official account of the execution of the
sentence. They assembled, trembling; the sacred hymn of the Fatahat was
sung, and the murder declared legal, in the name of the merciful and
compassionate God, Lord of the world.
When they had sealed up the effects of the victim, the murderer left the
palace, taking with him, as a hostage, Mustapha, son of Selim, destined
to be even more unfortunate than his father.
A few days afterwards, the Divan awarded to Ali Tepeleni, as a reward
for his zeal for the State and religion, the sanjak of Thessaly, with
the title of Dervendgi-pacha, or Provost Marshal of the roads. This
latter dignity was conferred on the condition of his levying a body of
four thousand men to clear the valley of the Peneus of a multitude of
Christian chiefs who exercised more power than the officers of the Grand
Seigneur. The new pacha took advantage of this to enlist a numerous body
of Albanians ready for any enterprise, and completely devoted to him.
With two important commands, and with this strong force at his back, he
repaired to Trikala, the seat of his government, where he speedily
acquired great influence.
His first act of authority was to exterminate the bands of Armatolis, or
Christian militia, which infested the plain. He laid violent hands on
all whom he caught, and drove the rest back into their mountains,
splitting them up into small bands whom he could deal with at his
pleasure. At the same time he sent a few heads to Constantinople, to
amuse the sultan and the mob, and some money to the ministers to gain
their support. "For," said he, "water sleeps, but envy never does."
These steps were prudent, and whilst his credit increased at court,
order was reestablished from the defiles of the Perrebia of Pindus to
the vale of Tempe and to the pass of Thermopylae.
These exploits of the provost-marshal, amplified by Oriental
exaggeration, justified the ideas which were entertained of the capacity
of Ali Pacha. Impatient of celebrity, he took good care himself to
spread his fame, relating his prowess to all comers, making presents to
the sultan’s officers who came into his government, and showing
travellers his palace courtyard festooned with decapitated heads. But
what chiefly tended to consolidate his power was the treasure which he
ceaselessly amassed by every means. He never struck for the mere
pleasure of striking, and the numerous victims of his proscriptions only
perished to enrich him. His death sentences always fell on beys and
wealthy persons whom he wished to plunder. In his eyes the axe was but
an instrument of fortune, and the executioner a tax-gatherer.
CHAPTER III
Having governed Thessaly in this manner during several years, Ali found
himself in a position to acquire the province of Janina, the possession
of which, by making him master of Epirus, would enable him to crush all
his enemies and to reign supreme over the three divisions of Albania.
But before he could succeed in this, it was necessary to dispose of the
pacha already in possession. Fortunately for Ali, the latter was a weak
and indolent man, quite incapable of struggling against so formidable a
rival; and his enemy speedily conceived and put into execution a plan
intended to bring about the fulfilment of his desires. He came to terms
with the same Armatolians whom he had formerly treated so harshly, and
let them loose, provided with arms and ammunition, on the country which
he wished to obtain. Soon the whole region echoed with stories of
devastation and pillage. The pacha, unable to repel the incursions of
these mountaineers, employed the few troops he had in oppressing the
inhabitants of the plains, who, groaning under both extortion and
rapine, vainly filled the air with their despairing cries. Ali hoped
that the Divan, which usually judged only after the event, seeing that
Epirus lay desolate, while Thessaly flourished under his own
administration, would, before long, entrust himself with the government
of both provinces, when a family incident occurred, which for a time
diverted the course of his political manoeuvres.
For a long time his mother Kamco had suffered from an internal cancer,
the result of a life of depravity. Feeling that her end drew near, she
despatched messenger after messenger, summoning her son to her bedside.
He started, but arrived too late, and found only his sister Chainitza
mourning over the body of their mother, who had expired in her arms an
hour previously. Breathing unutterable rage and pronouncing horrible
imprecations against Heaven, Kamco had commanded her children, under
pain of her dying curse, to carry out her last wishes faithfully. After
having long given way to their grief, Ali and Chainitza read together
the document which contained these commands. It ordained some special
assassinations, mentioned sundry villages which, some day; were to be
given to the flames, but ordered them most especially, as soon as
possible, to exterminate the inhabitants of Kormovo and Kardiki, from
whom she had endured the last horrors of slavery.
Then, after advising her children to remain united, to enrich their
soldiers, and to count as nothing people who were useless to them, Kamco
ended by commanding them to send in her name a pilgrim to Mecca, who
should deposit an offering on the tomb of the Prophet for the repose of
her soul. Having perused these last injunctions, Ali and Chainitza
joined hands, and over the inanimate remains of their departed mother
swore to accomplish her dying behests.
The pilgrimage came first under consideration. Now a pilgrim can only be
sent as proxy to Mecca, or offerings be made at the tomb of Medina, at
the expense of legitimately acquired property duly sold for the purpose.
The brother and sister made a careful examination of the family estates,
and after long hunting, thought they had found the correct thing in a
small property of about fifteen hundred francs income, inherited from
their great-grandfather, founder of the Tepel-Enian dynasty. But further
investigations disclosed that even this last resource had been forcibly
taken from a Christian, and the idea of a pious pilgrimage and a sacred
offering had to be given up. They then agreed to atone for the
impossibility of expiation by the grandeur of their vengeance, and swore
to pursue without ceasing and to destroy without mercy all enemies of
their family.
The best mode of carrying out this terrible and self-given pledge was
that Ali should resume his plans of aggrandizement exactly where he had
left them. He succeeded in acquiring the pachalik of Janina, which was
granted him by the Porte under the title of "arpalik," or conquest. It
was an old custom, natural to the warlike habits of the Turks, to bestow
the Government provinces or towns affecting to despise the authority of
the Grand Seigneur on whomsoever succeeded in controlling them, and
Janina occupied this position. It was principally inhabited by
Albanians, who had an enthusiastic admiration for anarchy, dignified by
them with the name of "Liberty," and who thought themselves independent
in proportion to the disturbance they succeeded in making. Each lived
retired as if in a mountain castle, and only went out in order to
participate in the quarrels of his faction in the forum. As for the
pachas, they were relegated to the old castle on the lake, and there was
no difficulty in obtaining their recall.
Consequently there was a general outcry at the news of Ali Pacha’s
nomination, and it was unanimously agreed that a man whose character and
power were alike dreaded must not be admitted within the walls of
Janina. Ali, not choosing to risk his forces in an open battle with a
warlike population, and preferring a slower and safer way to a short and
dangerous one, began by pillaging the villages and farms belonging to
his most powerful opponents. His tactics succeeded, and the very persons
who had been foremost in vowing hatred to the son of Kamco and who had
sworn most loudly that they would die rather than submit to the tyrant,
seeing their property daily ravaged, and impending ruin if hostilities
continued, applied themselves to procure peace. Messengers were sent
secretly to Ali, offering to admit him into Janina if he would undertake
to respect the lives and property of his new allies. Ali promised
whatever they asked, and entered the town by night. His first proceeding
was to appear before the cadi, whom he compelled to register and
proclaim his firmans of investiture.
In the same year in which he arrived at this dignity, really the desire
and object of Ali’s whole life, occurred also the death of the Sultan
Abdul Hamid, whose two sons, Mustapha and Mahmoud, were confined in the
Old Seraglio. This change of rulers, however, made no difference to Ali;
the peaceful Selim, exchanging the prison to which his nephews were now
relegated, for the throne of their father, confirmed the Pacha of Janina
in the titles, offices, and privileges which had been conferred on him.
Established in his position by this double investiture, Ali applied
himself to the definite settlement of his claims. He was now fifty years
of age, and was at the height of his intellectual development:
experience had been his teacher, and the lesson of no single event had
been lost upon him. An uncultivated but just and penetrating mind
enabled him to comprehend facts, analyse causes, and anticipate results;
and as his heart never interfered with the deductions of his rough
intelligence, he had by a sort of logical sequence formulated an
inflexible plan of action. This man, wholly ignorant, not only of the
ideas of history but also of the great names of Europe, had succeeded in
divining, and as a natural consequence of his active and practical
character, in also realising Macchiavelli, as is amply shown in the
expansion of his greatness and the exercise of his power. Without faith
in God, despising men, loving and thinking only of himself, distrusting
all around him, audacious in design, immovable in resolution, inexorable
in execution, merciless in vengeance, by turns insolent, humble,
violent, or supple according to circumstances, always and entirely
logical in his egotism, he is Cesar Borgia reborn as a Mussulman; he is
the incarnate ideal of Florentine policy, the Italian prince converted
into a satrap.
Age had as yet in no way impaired Ali’s strength and activity, and
nothing prevented his profiting by the advantages of his position.
Already possessing great riches, which every day saw increasing under
his management, he maintained a large body of warlike and devoted
troops, he united the offices of Pacha of two tails of Janina, of
Toparch of Thessaly, and of Provost Marshal of the Highway. As
influential aids both to his reputation for general ability and the
terror of his’ arms, and his authority as ruler, there stood by his side
two sons, Mouktar and Veli, offspring of his wife Emineh, both fully
grown and carefully educated in the principles of their father.
Ali’s first care, once master of Janina, was to annihilate the beys
forming the aristocracy of the place, whose hatred he was well aware of,
and whose plots he dreaded. He ruined them all, banishing many and
putting others to death. Knowing that he must make friends to supply the
vacancy caused by the destruction of his foes, he enriched with the
spoil the Albanian mountaineers in his pay, known by the name of
Skipetars, on whom he conferred most of the vacant employments. But much
too prudent to allow all the power to fall into the hands of a single
caste, although a foreign one to the capital, he, by a singular
innovation, added to and mixed with them an infusion of Orthodox Greeks,
a skilful but despised race, whose talents he could use without having
to dread their influence. While thus endeavouring on one side to destroy
the power of his enemies by depriving them of both authority and wealth,
and on the other to consolidate his own by establishing a firm
administration, he neglected no means of acquiring popularity. A fervent
disciple of Mahomet when among fanatic Mussulmans, a materialist with
the Bektagis who professed a rude pantheism, a Christian among the
Greeks, with whom he drank to the health of the Holy Virgin, he made
everywhere partisans by flattering the idea most in vogue. But if he
constantly changed both opinions and language when dealing with
subordinates whom it was desirable to win over, Ali towards his
superiors had one only line of conduct which he never transgressed.
Obsequious towards the Sublime Porte, so long as it did not interfere
with his private authority, he not only paid with exactitude all dues to
the sultan, to whom he even often advanced money, but he also pensioned
the most influential ministers. He was bent on having no enemies who
could really injure his power, and he knew that in an absolute
government no conviction can hold its own against the power of gold.
Having thus annihilated the nobles, deceived the multitude with
plausible words and lulled to sleep the watchfulness of the Divan, Ali
resolved to turn his arms against Kormovo. At the foot of its rocks he
had, in youth, experienced the disgrace of defeat, and during thirty
nights Kamco and Chainitza had endured all horrors of outrage at the
hands of its warriors. Thus the implacable pacha had a twofold wrong to
punish, a double vengeance to exact.
This time, profiting by experience, he called in the aid of treachery.
Arrived at the citadel, he negotiated, promised an amnesty, forgiveness
for all, actual rewards for some. The inhabitants, only too happy to
make peace with so formidable an adversary, demanded and obtained a
truce to settle the conditions. This was exactly what Ali expected, and
Kormovo, sleeping on the faith of the treaty, was suddenly attacked and
taken. All who did not escape by flight perished by the sword in the
darkness, or by the hand of the executioner the next morning. Those who
had offered violence aforetime to Ali’s mother and sister were carefully
sought for, and whether convicted or merely accused, were impaled on
spits, torn with redhot pincers, and slowly roasted between two fires;
the women were shaved and publicly scourged, and then sold as slaves.
This vengeance, in which all the nobles of the province not yet entirely
ruined were compelled to assist, was worth a decisive victory to Ali.
Towns, cantons, whole districts, overwhelmed with terror, submitted
without striking a blow, and his name, joined to the recital of a
massacre which ranked as a glorious exploit in the eyes of this savage
people, echoed like thunder from valley to valley and mountain to
mountain. In order that all surrounding him might participate in the joy
of his success Ali gave his army a splendid festival. Of unrivalled
activity, and, Mohammedan only in name, he himself led the chorus in the
Pyrrhic and Klephtic dances, the ceremonials of warriors and of robbers.
There was no lack of wine, of sheep, goats, and lambs roasted before
enormous fires; made of the debris of the ruined city; antique games of
archery and wrestling were celebrated, and the victors received their
prizes from the hand of their chief. The plunder, slaves, and cattle
were then shared, and the Tapygae, considered as the lowest of the four
tribes composing the race of Skipetars, and ranking as the refuse of the
army, carried off into the mountains of Acroceraunia, doors, windows,
nails, and even the tiles of the houses, which were then all surrendered
to the flames.
However, Ibrahim, the successor and son-in-law of Kurd Pacha, could not
see with indifference part of his province invaded by his ambitious
neighbour. He complained and negotiated, but obtaining no satisfaction,
called out an army composed of Skipetars of Toxid, all Islamites, and
gave the command to his brother Sepher, Bey of Avlone. Ali, who had
adopted the policy of opposing alternately the Cross to the Crescent and
the Crescent to the Cross, summoned to his aid the Christian chiefs of
the mountains, who descended into the plains at the head of their
unconquered troops. As is generally the case in Albania, where war is
merely an excuse for brigandage, instead of deciding matters by a
pitched battle, both sides contented themselves with burning villages,
hanging peasants, and carrying off cattle.
Also, in accordance with the custom of the country, the women interposed
between the combatants, and the good and gentle Emineh laid proposals of
peace before Ibrahim Pacha, to whose apathetic disposition a state of
war was disagreeable, and who was only too happy to conclude a fairly
satisfactory negotiation. A family alliance was arranged, in virtue of
which Ali retained his conquests, which were considered as the marriage
portion of Ibrahim’s eldest daughter, who became the wife of Ali’s
eldest son, Mouktar.
It was hoped that this peace might prove permanent, but the marriage
which sealed the treaty was barely concluded before a fresh quarrel
broke out between the pachas. Ali, having wrung such important
concessions from the weakness of his neighbour, desired to obtain yet
more. But closely allied to Ibrahim were two persons gifted with great
firmness of character and unusual ability, whose position gave them
great influence. They were his wife Zaidee, and his brother Sepher, who
had been in command during the war just terminated. As both were
inimical to Ali, who could not hope to corrupt them, the latter resolved
to get rid of them.
Having in the days of his youth been intimate with Kurd Pacha, Ali had
endeavoured to seduce his daughter, already the wife of Ibrahim. Being
discovered by the latter in the act of scaling the wall of his harem, he
had been obliged to fly the country. Wishing now to ruin the woman whom
he had formerly tried to corrupt, Ali sought to turn his former crime to
the success of a new one. Anonymous letters, secretly sent to Ibrahim,
warned him that his wife intended to poison him, in order to be able
later to marry Ali Pacha, whom she had always loved. In a country like
Turkey, where to suspect a woman is to accuse her, and accusation is
synonymous with condemnation, such a calumny might easily cause the
death of the innocent Zaidee. But if Ibrahim was weak and indolent, he
was also confiding and generous. He took the letters; to his wife, who
had no difficulty in clearing herself, and who warned him against the
writer, whose object and plots she easily divined, so that this odious
conspiracy turned only to Ali’s discredit. But the latter was not likely
either to concern himself as to what others said or thought about him or
to be disconcerted by a failure. He simply turned his machinations
against his other enemy, and arranged matters this time so as to avoid a
failure.
He sent to Zagori, a district noted for its doctors, for a quack who
undertook to poison Sepher Bey on condition of receiving forty purses.
When all was settled, the miscreant set out for Berat, and was
immediately accused by Ali of evasion, and his wife and children were
arrested as accomplices and detained, apparently as hostages for the
good behaviour of their husband and father, but really as pledges for
his silence when the crime should have been accomplished. Sepher Bey,
informed of this by letters which Ali wrote to the Pacha of Berat
demanding the fugitive, thought that a man persecuted by his enemy would
be faithful to himself, and took the supposed runaway into his service.
The traitor made skilful use of the kindness of his too credulous
protector, insinuated himself into his confidence, became his trusted
physician and apothecary, and gave him poison instead of medicine on the
very first appearance of indisposition. As soon as symptoms of death
appeared, the poisoner fled, aided by the emissaries of Ali, with whom
the court of Berat was packed, and presented himself at Janina to
receive the reward of his crime. Ali thanked him for his zeal, commended
his skill, and referred him to the treasurer. But the instant the wretch
left the seraglio in order to receive his recompense, he was seized by
the executioners and hurried to the gallows. In thus punishing the
assassin, Ali at one blow discharged the debt he owed him, disposed of
the single witness to be dreaded, and displayed his own friendship for
the victim! Not content with this, he endeavoured to again throw
suspicion on the wife of Ibrahim Pacha, whom he accused of being jealous
of the influence which Sepher Pacha had exercised in the family. This he
mentioned regularly in conversation, writing in the same style to his
agents at Constantinople, and everywhere where there was any profit in
slandering a family whose ruin he desired for the sake of their
possessions. Before long he made a pretext out of the scandal started by
himself, and prepared to take up arms in order, he said, to avenge his
friend Sepher Bey, when he was anticipated by Ibrahim Pacha, who roused
against him the allied Christians of Thesprotia, foremost among whom
ranked the Suliots famed through Albania for their courage and their
love of independence.
After several battles, in which his enemies had the a vantage, Ali began
negotiations with Ibrahim, and finally concluded a treaty offensive and
defensive. This fresh alliance was, like the first, to be cemented by a
marriage. The virtuous Emineh, seeing her son Veli united to the second
daughter of Ibrahim, trusted that the feud between the two families was
now quenched, and thought herself at the summit of happiness. But her
joy was not of long duration; the death-groan was again to be heard
amidst the songs of the marriage-feast.
The daughter of Chainitza, by her first husband, Ali, had married a
certain Murad, the Bey of Clerisoura. This nobleman, attached to Ibrahim
Pacha by both blood and affection, since the death of Sepher Bey, had,
become the special object of Ali’s hatred, caused by the devotion of
Murad to his patron, over whom he had great influence, and from whom
nothing could detach him. Skilful in concealing truth under special
pretexts, Ali gave out that the cause of his known dislike to this young
man was that the latter, although his nephew by marriage, had several
times fought in hostile ranks against him. Therefore the amiable Ibrahim
made use of the marriage treaty to arrange an honourable reconciliation
between Murad Bey and his uncle, and appointed the former "Ruler a the
Marriage Feast," in which capacity he was charged to conduct the bride
to Janina and deliver her to her husband, the young Veli Bey. He had
accomplished his mission satisfactorily, and was received by Ali with
all apparent hospitality. The festival began on his arrival towards the
end of November 1791, and had already continued several days, when
suddenly it was announced that a shot had been fired upon Ali, who had
only escaped by a miracle, and that the assassin was still at large.
This news spread terror through the city and the palace, and everyone
dreaded being seized as the guilty person. Spies were everywhere
employed, but they declared search was useless, and that there must be an
extensive conspiracy against Ali’s life. The latter complained of being
surrounded by enemies, and announced that henceforth he would receive
only one person at a time, who should lay down his arms before entering
the hall now set apart for public audience. It was a chamber built over
a vault, and entered by a sort of trap-door, only reached by a ladder.
After having for several days received his couriers in this sort of
dovecot, Ali summoned his nephew in order to entrust with him the
wedding gifts. Murad took this as a sign of favour, and joyfully
acknowledged the congratulations of his friends. He presented himself at
the time arranged, the guards at the foot of the ladder demanded his
arms, which he gave up readily, and ascended the ladder full of hope.
Scarcely had the trap-door closed behind him when a pistol ball, fired
from a dark corner, broke his shoulder blade, and he fell, but sprang up
and attempted to fly. Ali issued from his hiding place and sprang upon
him, but notwithstanding his wound the young bey defended himself
vigorously, uttering terrible cries. The pacha, eager to finish, and
finding his hands insufficient, caught a burning log from the hearth,
struck his nephew in the face with it, felled him to the ground, and
completed his bloody task. This accomplished, Ali called for help with
loud cries, and when his guards entered he showed the bruises he had
received and the blood with which he was covered, declaring that he had
killed in self-defence a villain who endeavoured to assassinate him. He
ordered the body to be searched, and a letter was found in a pocket
which Ali had himself just placed there, which purported to give the
details of the pretended conspiracy.
As Murad’s brother was seriously compromised by this letter, he also was
immediately seized, and strangled without any pretence of trial. The
whole palace rejoiced, thanks were rendered to Heaven by one of those
sacrifices of animals still occasionally made in the East to celebrate
an escape from great danger, and Ali released some prisoners in order to
show his gratitude to Providence for having protected him from so
horrible a crime. He received congratulatory visits, and composed an
apology attested by a judicial declaration by the cadi, in which the
memory of Murad and his brother was declared accursed. Finally,
commissioners, escorted by a strong body of soldiers, were sent to seize
the property of the two brothers, because, said the decree, it was just
that the injured should inherit the possessions of his would-be
assassins.
Thus was exterminated the only family capable of opposing the Pacha of
Janina, or which could counterbalance his influence over the weak
Ibrahim of Berat. The latter, abandoned by his brave defenders, and
finding himself at the mercy of his enemy, was compelled to submit to
what he could not prevent, and protested only by tears against these
crimes, which seemed to herald a terrible future for himself.
As for Emineh, it is said that from the date of this catastrophe she
separated herself almost entirely from her blood-stained husband, and
spent her life in the recesses of the harem, praying as a Christian both
for the murderer and his victims. It is a relief, in the midst of this
atrocious saturnalia to encounter this noble and gentle character, which
like a desert oasis, affords a rest to eyes wearied with the
contemplation of so much wickedness and treachery.
Ali lost in her the guardian angel who alone could in any way restrain
his violent passions. Grieved at first by the withdrawal of the wife
whom hitherto he had loved exclusively, he endeavoured in vain to regain
her affection; and then sought in new vices compensation for the
happiness he had lost, and gave himself up to sensuality. Ardent in
everything, he carried debauchery to a monstrous extent, and as if his
palaces were not large enough for his desires, he assumed various
disguises; sometimes in order to traverse the streets by night in search
of the lowest pleasures; sometimes penetrating by day into churches and
private houses seeking for young men and maidens remarkable for their
beauty, who were then carried off to his harem.
His sons, following in his footsteps, kept also scandalous households,
and seemed to dispute preeminence in evil with their father, each in his
own manner. Drunkenness was the speciality of the eldest, Mouktar, who
was without rival among the hard drinkers of Albania, and who was
reputed to have emptied a whole wine-skin in one evening after a
plentiful meal. Gifted with the hereditary violence of his family, he
had, in his drunken fury, slain several persons, among others his
sword-bearer, the companion of his childhood and confidential friend of
his whole life. Veli chose a different course. Realising the Marquis de
Sade as his father had realised Macchiavelli, he delighted in mingling
together debauchery and cruelty, and his amusement consisted in biting
the lips he had kissed, and tearing with his nails the forms he had
caressed. The people of Janina saw with horror more than one woman in
their midst whose nose and ears he had caused to be cut off, and had
then turned into the streets.
It was indeed a reign of terror; neither fortune, life, honour, nor
family were safe. Mothers cursed their fruitfulness, and women their
beauty. Fear soon engenders corruption, and subjects are speedily
tainted by the depravity of their masters. Ali, considering a
demoralised race as easier to govern, looked on with satisfaction.
While he strengthened by every means his authority from within, he
missed no opportunity of extending his rule without. In 1803 he declared
war against the Suliots, whose independence he had frequently
endeavoured either to purchase or to overthrow. The army sent against
them, although ten thousand strong, was at first beaten everywhere. Ali
then, as usual, brought treason to his aid, and regained the advantage.
It became evident that, sooner or later, the unhappy Suliots must
succumb.
Foreseeing the horrors which their defeat would entail, Emineh, touched
with compassion, issued from her seclusion and cast herself at Ali’s
feet. He raised her, seated her beside him, and inquired as to her
wishes. She spoke of, generosity, of mercy; he listened as if touched
and wavering, until she named the Suliots. Then, filled with fury, he
seized a pistol and fired at her. She was not hurt, but fell to the
ground overcome with terror, and her women hastily intervened and
carried her away. For the first time in his life, perhaps, Ali shuddered
before the dread of a murder.
It was his wife, the mother of his children, whom he saw lying at his
feet, and the recollection afflicted and tormented him. He rose in the
night and went to Emineh’s apartment; he knocked and called, but being
refused admittance, in his anger he broke open the door. Terrified by
the noise; and at the sight of her infuriated husband, Emineh fell into
violent convulsions, and shortly expired. Thus perished the daughter of
Capelan Pacha, wife of Ali Tepeleni, and mother of Mouktar and Veli,
who, doomed to live surrounded by evil, yet remained virtuous and good.
Her death caused universal mourning throughout Albania, and produced a
not less deep impression on the mind of her murderer. Emineh’s spectre
pursued him in his pleasures, in the council chamber, in the hours of
night. He saw her, he heard her, and would awake, exclaiming, "my wife!
my wife!—It is my wife!—Her eyes are angry; she threatens me!—Save me!
Mercy!" For more than ten years Ali never dared to sleep alone.
CHAPTER IV
In December, the Suliots, decimated by battle, worn by famine,
discouraged by treachery, were obliged to capitulate. The treaty gave
them leave to go where they would, their own mountains excepted. The
unfortunate tribe divided into two parts, the one going towards Parga,
the other towards Prevesa. Ali gave orders for the destruction of both,
notwithstanding the treaty.
The Parga division was attacked in its march, and charged by a numerous
body of Skipetars. Its destruction seemed imminent, but instinct
suddenly revealed to the ignorant mountaineers the one manoeuvre which
might save them. They formed a square, placing old men, women, children,
and cattle in the midst, and, protected by this military formation,
entered Parga in full view of the cut-throats sent to pursue them.
Less fortunate was the Prevesa division, which, terrified by a sudden
and unexpected attack, fled in disorder to a Greek convent called
Zalongos. But the gate was soon broken down, and the unhappy Suliots
massacred to the last man.
The women, whose tents had been pitched on the summit of a lofty rock,
beheld the terrible carnage which destroyed their defenders. Henceforth
their only prospect was that of becoming the slaves of those who had
just slaughtered their husbands and brothers. An heroic resolution
spared them this infamy; they joined hands, and chanting their national
songs, moved in a solemn dance round the rocky platform. As the song
ended, they uttered a prolonged and piercing cry, and cast themselves
and their children down into the profound abyss beneath.
There were still some Suliots left in their country when Ali Pacha took
possession of it. These were all taken and brought to Janina, and their
sufferings were the first adornments of the festival made for the army.
Every soldier’s imagination was racked for the discovery of new
tortures, and the most original among them had the privilege of
themselves carrying out their inventions.
There were some who, having had their noses and ears cut off, were
compelled to eat them raw, dressed as a salad. One young man was scalped
until the skin fell back upon his shoulders, then beaten round the court
of the seraglio for the pacha’s entertainment, until at length a lance
was run through his body and he was cast on the funeral pile. Many were
boiled alive and their flesh then thrown to the dogs.
From this time the Cross has disappeared from the Selleid mountains, and
the gentle prayer of Christ no longer wakes the echoes of Suli.
During the course of this war, and shortly after the death of Emineh,
another dismal drama was enacted in the pacha’s family, whose active
wickedness nothing seemed to weary. The scandalous libertinism of both
father and sons had corrupted all around as well as themselves. This
demoralisation brought bitter fruits for all alike: the subjects endured
a terrible tyranny; the masters sowed among themselves distrust,
discord, and hatred. The father wounded his two sons by turns in their
tenderest affections, and the sons avenged themselves by abandoning
their father in the hour of danger.
There was in Janina a woman named Euphrosyne, a niece of the archbishop,
married to one of the richest Greek merchants, and noted for wit and
beauty. She was already the mother of two children, when Mouktar became
enamoured of her, and ordered her to come to his palace. The unhappy
Euphrosyne, at once guessing his object, summoned a family council to
decide what should be done. All agreed that there was no escape, and
that her husband’s life was in danger, on account of the jealousy of his
terrible rival. He fled the city that same night, and his wife
surrendered herself to Mouktar, who, softened by her charms, soon
sincerely loved her, and overwhelmed her with presents and favours.
Things were in this position when Mouktar was obliged to depart on an
important expedition.
Scarcely had he started before his wives complained to Ali that
Euphrosyne usurped their rights and caused their husband to neglect
them. Ali, who complained greatly of his sons’ extravagance, and
regretted the money they squandered, at once struck a blow which was
both to enrich himself and increase the terror of his name.
One night he appeared by torchlight, accompanied by his guards, at
Euphrosyne’s house. Knowing his cruelty and avarice, she sought to
disarm one by gratifying the other: she collected her money and jewels
and laid them at Ali’s feet with a look of supplication.
"These things are only my own property, which you restore," said he,
taking possession of the rich offering. "Can you give back the heart of
Mouktar, which you have stolen?"
Euphrosyne besought him by his paternal feelings, for the sake of his
son whose love had been her misfortune and was now her only crime, to
spare a mother whose conduct had been otherwise irreproachable. But her
tears and pleadings produced no effect on Ali, who ordered her to be
taken, loaded with fetters and covered with a piece of sackcloth, to the
prison of the seraglio.
If it were certain that there was no hope for the unhappy Euphrosyne,
one trusted that she might at least be the only victim. But Ali,
professing to follow the advice of some severe reformers who wished to
restore decent morality, arrested at the same time fifteen ladies
belonging to the best Christian families in Janina. A Wallachian, named
Nicholas Janco, took the opportunity to denounce his own wife, who was
on the point of becoming a mother, as guilty of adultery, and handed her
also over to the pacha. These unfortunate women were brought before Ali
to undergo a trial of which a sentence of death was the foregone
conclusion. They were then confined in a dungeon, where they spent two
days of misery. The third night, the executioners appeared to conduct
them to the lake where they were to perish. Euphrosyne, too exhausted to
endure to the end, expired by the way, and when she was flung with the
rest into the dark waters, her soul had already escaped from its earthly
tenement. Her body was found the next day, and was buried in the
cemetery of the monastery of Saints-Anargyres, where her tomb, covered
with white iris and sheltered by a wild olive tree, is yet shown.
Mouktar was returning from his expedition when a courier from his
brother Veli brought him a letter informing him of these events. He
opened it. "Euphrosyne!" he cried, and, seizing one of his pistols,
fired it at the messenger, who fell dead at his feet,—"Euphrosyne,
behold thy first victim!" Springing on his horse, he galloped towards
Janina. His guards followed at a distance, and the inhabitants of all
the villages he passed fled at his approach. He paid no attention to
them, but rode till his horse fell dead by the lake which had engulfed
Euphrosyne, and then, taking a boat, he went to hide his grief and rage
in his own palace.
Ali, caring little for passion which evaporated in tears and cries, sent
an order to Mouktar to appear before him at once. "He will not kill
you," he remarked to his messenger, with a bitter smile. And, in fact,
the man who a moment before was furiously raging and storming against
his father, as if overwhelmed by this imperious message, calmed down,
and obeyed.
"Come hither, Mouktar," said the pacha, extending his murderous hand to
be kissed as soon as his son appeared. "I shall take no notice of your
anger, but in future never forget that a man who braves public opinion
as I do fears nothing in the world. You can go now; when your troops
have rested from their march, you can come and ask for orders. Go,
remember what I have said."
Mouktar retired as submissively as if he had just received pardon for
some serious crime, and found no better consolation than to spend the
night with Veli in drinking and debauchery. But a day was to come when
the brothers, alike outraged by their father, would plot and carry out a
terrible vengeance.
However, the Porte began to take umbrage at the continual aggrandisement
of the Pacha of Janina. Not daring openly to attack so formidable a
vassal, the sultan sought by underhand means to diminish his power, and
under the pretext that Ali was becoming too old for the labour of so
many offices, the government of Thessaly was withdrawn from him, but, to
show that this was not done in enmity, the province was entrusted to his
nephew, Elmas Bey, son of Suleiman and Chainitza.
Chainitza, fully as ambitious as her brother, could not contain her
delight at the idea of governing in the name of her son, who was weak
and gentle in character and accustomed to obey her implicitly. She asked
her brother’s permission to go to Trikala to be present at the
installation, and obtained it, to everybody’s astonishment; for no one
could imagine that Ali would peacefully renounce so important a
government as that of Thessaly. However, he dissembled so skilfully that
everyone was deceived by his apparent resignation, and applauded his
magnanimity, when he provided his sister with a brilliant escort to
conduct her to the capital of the province of which he had just been
deprived in favour of his nephew. He sent letters of congratulation to
the latter as well as magnificent presents, among them a splendid
pelisse of black fox, which had cost more than a hundred thousand francs
of Western money. He requested Elmas Bey to honour him by wearing this
robe on the day when the sultan’s envoy should present him with the
firman of investiture, and Chainitza herself was charged to deliver both
gifts and messages.
Chainitza arrived safely at Trikala, and faithfully delivered the
messages with which she had been entrusted. When the ceremony she so
ardently desired took place, she herself took charge of all the
arrangements. Elmas, wearing the black fox pelisse, was proclaimed, and
acknowledged as Governor of Thessaly in her presence. "My son is pacha!"
she cried in the delirium of joy. "My son is pacha! and my nephews will
die of envy!" But her triumph was not to be of long duration. A few days
after his installation, Elmas began to feel strangely languid. Continual
lethargy, convulsive sneezing, feverish eyes, soon betokened a serious
illness. Ali’s gift had accomplished its purpose. The pelisse, carefully
impregnated with smallpox germs taken from a young girl suffering from
this malady, had conveyed the dreaded disease to the new pacha, who, not
having been inoculated, died in a few days.
The grief of Chainitza at her son’s death displayed itself in sobs,
threats, and curses, but, not knowing whom to blame for her misfortune,
she hastened to leave the scene of it, and returned to Janina, to mingle
her tears with those of her brother. She found Ali apparently in such
depths of grief, that instead of suspecting, she was actually tempted to
pity him, and this seeming sympathy soothed her distress, aided by the
caresses of her second son, Aden Bey. Ali, thoughtful of his own
interests, took care to send one of his own officers to Trikala, to
administer justice in the place of his deceased nephew, and the Porte,
seeing that all attempts against him only caused misfortune, consented
to his resuming the government of Thessaly.
This climax roused the suspicions of many persons. But the public voice,
already discussing the causes of the death of Elinas, was stifled by the
thunder of the cannon, which, from the ramparts of Janina, announced to
Epirus the birth of another son to Ali, Salik Bey, whose mother was a
Georgian slave.
Fortune, seemingly always ready both to crown Ali’s crimes with success
and to fulfil his wishes, had yet in reserve a more precious gift than
any of the others, that of a good and beautiful wife; who should
replace, and even efface the memory of the beloved Emineh.
The Porte, while sending to Ali the firman which restored to him the
government of Thessaly, ordered him to seek out and destroy a society of
coiners who dwelt within his jurisdiction. Ali, delighted to, prove his
zeal by a service which cost nothing but bloodshed; at once set his
spies to work, and having discovered the abode of the gang, set out for
the place attended by a strong escort. It was a village called
Plikivitza.
Having arrived in the evening, he spent the night in taking measures to
prevent escape, and at break of day attacked the village suddenly with
his whole force. The coiners were seized in the act. Ali immediately
ordered the chief to be hung at his own door and the whole population to
be massacred. Suddenly a young girl of great beauty made her way through
the tumult and sought refuge at his feet. Ali, astonished, asked who she
was. She answered with a look of mingled innocence and terror, kissing
his hands, which she bathed with tears, and said:
"O my lord! I implore thee to intercede with the terrible vizier Ali for
my mother and brothers. My father is dead, behold where he hangs at the
door of our cottage! But we have done nothing to rouse the anger of our
dreadful master. My mother is a poor woman who never offended anyone,
and we are only weak children. Save us from him!"
Touched in spite of himself, the pacha took the girl in his arms, and
answered her with a gentle smile.
"Thou hast come to the wrong man, child: I am this terrible vizier."
"Oh no, no! you are good, you will be our good lord."
"Well, be comforted, my child, and show me thy mother and thy brothers;
they shall be spared. Thou hast saved their lives."
And as she knelt at his feet, overcome with joy, he raised her and asked
her name.
"Basilessa," she replied.
"Basilessa, Queen! it is a name of good augury. Basilessa, thou shalt
dwell with me henceforth."
And he collected the members of her family, and gave orders for them to
be sent to Janina in company with the maiden, who repaid his mercy with
boundless love and devotion.
Let us mention one trait of gratitude shown by Ali at the end of this
expedition, and his record of good deeds is then closed. Compelled by a
storm to take refuge in a miserable hamlet, he inquired its name, and on
hearing it appeared surprised and thoughtful, as if trying to recall
lost memories. Suddenly he asked if a woman named Nouza dwelt in the
village, and was told there was an old infirm woman of that name in
great poverty. He ordered her to be brought before him. She came and
prostrated herself in terror. Ali raised her kindly.
"Dost thou not know me?" he asked.
"Have mercy, great Vizier," answered the poor woman, who, having nothing
to lose but her life, imagined that even that would be taken from her.
"I see," said the pacha, "that if thou knowest me, thou dost not really
recognise me."
The woman looked at him wonderingly, not understanding his words in the
least.
"Dost thou remember," continued Ali, "that forty years ago a young man
asked for shelter from the foes who pursued him? Without inquiring his
name or standing, thou didst hide him in thy humble house, and dressed
his wounds, and shared thy scanty food with him, and when he was able to
go forward thou didst stand on thy threshold to wish him good luck and
success. Thy wishes were heard, for the young man was Ali Tepeleni, and
I who speak am he!"
The old woman stood overwhelmed with astonishment. She departed calling
down blessings on the pasha, who assured her a pension of fifteen
hundred francs for the rest of her days.
But these two good actions are only flashes of light illuminating the
dark horizon of Ali’s life for a brief moment. Returned to Janina, he
resumed his tyranny, his intrigues, and cruelty. Not content with the
vast territory which owned his sway, he again invaded that of his
neighbours on every pretext. Phocis, Mtolia, Acarnania, were by turns
occupied by his troops, the country ravaged, and the inhabitants
decimated. At the same time he compelled Ibrahim Pacha to surrender his
last remaining daughter, and give her in marriage to his nephew, Aden
Bey, the son of Chainitza. This new alliance with a family he had so
often attacked and despoiled gave him fresh arms against it, whether by
being enabled better to watch the pasha’s sons, or to entice them into
some snare with greater ease.
Whilst he thus married his nephew, he did not neglect the advancement of
his sons. By the aid of the French Ambassador, whom he had convinced of
his devotion to the Emperor Napoleon, he succeeded in getting the
pachalik of Morea bestowed on Veli, and that of Lepanto on Mouktar. But
as in placing his sons in these exalted positions his only aim was to
aggrandise and consolidate his own power, he himself ordered their
retinues, giving them officers of his own choosing. When they departed
to their governments, he kept their wives, their children, and even
their furniture as pledges, saying that they ought not to be encumbered
with domestic establishments in time of war, Turkey just then being at
open war with England. He also made use of this opportunity to get rid
of people who displeased him, among others, of a certain Ismail Pacho
Bey, who had been alternately both tool and enemy, whom he made
secretary to his son Veli, professedly as a pledge of reconciliation and
favour, but really in order to despoil him more easily of the
considerable property which he possessed at Janina. Pacho was not
deceived, and showed his resentment openly. "The wretch banishes me," he
cried, pointing out Ali, who was sitting at a window in the palace, "he
sends me away in order to rob me; but I will avenge myself whatever
happens, and I shall die content if I can procure his destruction at the
price of my own."
Continually increasing his power, Ali endeavoured to consolidate it
permanently. He had entered by degrees into secret negotiations with all
the great powers of Europe, hoping in the end to make himself
independent, and to obtain recognition as Prince of Greece. A mysterious
and unforeseen incident betrayed this to the Porte, and furnished actual
proofs of his treason in letters confirmed by Ali’s own seal. The Sultan
Selim immediately, sent to Janina a "kapidgi-bachi," or plenipotentiary,
to examine into the case and try the delinquent.
Arrived at Janina, this officer placed before Ali the proofs of his
understanding with the enemies of the State. Ali was not strong enough
to throw off the mask, and yet could not deny such overwhelming
evidence. He determined to obtain time.
"No wonder," said he, "that I appear guilty in the eyes of His Highness.
This seal is, certainly mine, I cannot deny it; but the writing is not
that of my secretaries, and the seal must have been obtained and used to
sign these guilty letters in order to ruin me. I pray you to grant me a
few days in order to clear up this iniquitous mystery, which compromises
me in the eyes of my master the sultan and of all good Mahommedans. May
Allah grant me the means of proving my innocence, which is as pure as
the rays of the sun, although everything seems against me!"
After this conference, Ali, pretending to be engaged in a secret
inquiry, considered how he could legally escape from this predicament.
He spent some days in making plans which were given up as soon as
formed, until his fertile genius at length suggested a means of getting
clear of one of the greatest difficulties in which he had ever found
himself. Sending for a Greek whom he had often employed, he addressed
him thus:
"Thou knowest I have always shown thee favour, and the day is arrived
when thy fortune shall be made. Henceforth thou shalt be as my son, thy
children shall be as mine, my house shall be thy home, and in return for
my benefits I require one small service. This accursed kapidgi-bachi has
come hither bringing certain papers signed with my seal, intending to
use them to my discredit, and thus to extort money from me. Of money I
have already given too much, and I intend this time to escape without
being plundered except for the sake of a good servant like thee.
Therefore, my son, thou shalt go before the tribunal when I tell thee,
and declare before this kapidgi-bachi and the cadi that thou hast
written these letters attributed to me, and that thou didst seal them
with my seal, in order to give them due weight and importance."
The unhappy Greek grew pale and strove to answer.
"What fearest thou, my son?" resumed Ali. "Speak, am I not thy good
master? Thou wilt be sure of my lasting favour, and who is there to
dread when I protect thee? Is it the kapidgi-bachi? he has no authority
here. I have thrown twenty as good as he into the lake! If more is
required to reassure thee, I swear by the Prophet, by my own and my
sons’ heads, that no harm shall come to thee from him. Be ready, then,
to do as I tell thee, and beware of mentioning this matter to anyone, in
order that all may be accomplished according to our mutual wishes."
More terrified by dread of the pacha, from whose wrath in case of
refusal there was no chance of escape, than tempted by his promises, the
Greek undertook the false swearing required. Ali, delighted, dismissed
him with a thousand assurances of protection, and then requested the
presence of the sultan’s envoy, to whom he said, with much emotion:
"I have at length unravelled the infernal plot laid against me; it is
the work of a man in the pay of the implacable enemies of the Sublime
Porte, and who is a Russian agent. He is in my power, and I have given
him hopes of pardon on condition of full confession. Will you then
summon the cadi, the judges and ecclesiastics of the town, in order that
they may hear the guilty man’s deposition, and that the light of truth
may purify their minds?"
The tribunal was soon assembled, and the trembling Greek appeared in the
midst of a solemn silence. "Knowest thou this writing?" demanded the
cadi.—"It is mine."—"And this seal?"—"It is that of my master, Ali
Pacha."—"How does it come to be placed at the foot of these letters?"—"I
did this by order of my chief, abusing the confidence of my master, who
occasionally allowed me to use it to sign his orders."—"It is enough:
thou canst withdraw."
Uneasy as to the success of his intrigue, Ali was approaching the Hall
of Justice. As he entered the court, the Greek, who had just finished
his examination, threw himself at his feet, assuring him that all had
gone well. "It is good," said Ali; "thou shalt have thy reward." Turning
round, he made a sign to his guards, who had their orders, and who
instantly seized the unhappy Greek, and, drowning his voice with their
shouts, hung him in the courtyard. This execution finished, the pacha
presented himself before the judges and inquired the result of their
investigation. He was answered by a burst of congratulation. "Well,"
said he, "the guilty author of this plot aimed at me is no more; I
ordered him to be hung without waiting to hear your decision. May all
enemies of our glorious sultan perish even as he!"
A report of what had occurred was immediately drawn up, and, to assist
matters still further, Ali sent the kapidgi-bachi a gift of fifty
purses, which he accepted without difficulty, and also secured the
favour of the Divan by considerable presents. The sultan, yielding to
the advice of his councillors, appeared to have again received him into
favour.
But Ali knew well that this appearance of sunshine was entirely
deceptive, and that Selim only professed to believe in his innocence
until the day should arrive when the sultan could safely punish his
treason. He sought therefore to compass the latter’s downfall, and made
common cause with his enemies, both internal and external. A conspiracy,
hatched between the discontented pachas and the English agents, shortly
broke out, and one day, when Ali was presiding at the artillery practice
of some French gunners sent to Albania by the Governor of Illyria, a
Tartar brought him news of the deposition of Selim, who was succeeded by
his nephew Mustapha. Ali sprang up in delight, and publicly thanked
Allah for this great good fortune. He really did profit by this change
of rulers, but he profited yet more by a second revolution which caused
the deaths both of Selim, whom the promoters wished to reestablish on
the throne, and of Mustapha whose downfall they intended. Mahmoud II,
who was next invested with the scimitar of Othman, came to the throne in
troublous times, after much bloodshed, in the midst of great political
upheavals, and had neither the will nor the power to attack one of his
most powerful vassals. He received with evident satisfaction the million
piastres which, at, his installation, Ali hastened to send as a proof of
his devotion, assured the pacha of his favour, and confirmed both him
and his sons in their offices and dignities. This fortunate change in
his position brought Ali’s pride and audacity to a climax. Free from
pressing anxiety, he determined to carry out a project which had been
the dream of his life.
CHAPTER V
After taking possession of Argyro-Castron, which he had long coveted,
Ali led his victorious army against the town of Kardiki, whose
inhabitants had formerly joined with those of Kormovo in the outrage
inflicted on his mother and sister. The besieged, knowing they had no
mercy to hope for, defended themselves bravely, but were obliged to
yield to famine. After a month’s blockade, the common people, having no
food for themselves or their cattle, began to cry for mercy in the open
streets, and their chiefs, intimidated by the general misery and unable
to stand alone, consented to capitulate. Ali, whose intentions as to the
fate of this unhappy town were irrevocably decided, agreed to all that
they asked. A treaty was signed by both parties, and solemnly sworn to
on the Koran, in virtue of which seventy-two beys, heads of the
principal Albanian families, were to go to Janina as free men, and fully
armed. They were to be received with the honours due to their rank as
free tenants of the sultan, their lives and their families were to be
spared, and also their possessions. The other inhabitants of Kardiki,
being Mohammedans, and therefore brothers of Ali, were to be treated as
friends and retain their lives and property. On these conditions a
quarter of the town; was to be occupied by the victorious troops.
One of the principal chiefs, Saleh Bey, and his wife, foreseeing the
fate which awaited their friends, committed suicide at the moment when,
in pursuance of the treaty, Ali’s soldiers took possession of the
quarter assigned to them.
Ali received the seventy-two beys with all marks of friendship when they
arrived at Janina. He lodged them in a palace on the lake, and treated
them magnificently for some days. But soon, having contrived on some
pretext to disarm them, he had them conveyed, loaded with chains, to a
Greek convent on an island in the lake, which was converted into a
prison. The day of vengeance not having fully arrived, he explained this
breach of faith by declaring that the hostages had attempted to escape.
The popular credulity was satisfied by this explanation, and no one
doubted the good faith of the pacha when he announced that he was going
to Kardiki to establish a police and fulfil the promises he had made to
the inhabitants. Even the number of soldiers he took excited no
surprise, as Ali was accustomed to travel with a very numerous suite.
After three days’ journey, he stopped at Libokhovo, where his sister had
resided since the death of Aden Bey, her second son, cut off recently by
wickness. What passed in the long interview they had no one knew, but it
was observed that Chainitza’s tears, which till then had flowed
incessantly, stopped as if by magic, and her women, who were wearing
mourning, received an order to attire themselves as for a festival.
Feasting and dancing, begun in Ali’s honour, did not cease after his
departure.
He spent the night at Chenderia, a castle built on a rock, whence the
town of Kardiki was plainly visible. Next day at daybreak Ali despatched
an usher to summon all the male inhabitants of Kardiki to appear before
Chenderia, in order to receive assurances of the pacha’s pardon and
friendship.
The Kardikiotes at once divined that this injunction was the precursor
of a terrible vengeance: the whole town echoed with cries and groans,
the mosques were filled with people praying for deliverance. The
appointed time arrived, they embraced each other as if parting for ever,
and then the men, unarmed, in number six hundred and seventy, started
for Chenderia. At the gate of the town they encountered a troop of
Albanians, who followed as if to escort them, and which increased in
number as they proceeded. Soon they arrived in the dread presence of Ali
Pacha. Grouped in formidable masses around him stood several thousand of
his fierce soldiery.
The unhappy Kardikiotes realised their utter helplessness, and saw that
they, their wives and children, were completely at the mercy of their
implacable enemy. They fell prostrate before the pacha, and with all the
fervour which the utmost terror could inspire, implored him to grant
them a generous pardon.
Ali for some time silently enjoyed the pleasure of seeing his ancient
enemies lying before him prostrate in the dust. He then desired them to
rise, reassured them, called them brothers, sons, friends of his heart.
Distinguishing some of his old acquaintances, he called them to him,
spoke familiarly of the days of their youth, of their games, their early
friendships, and pointing to the young men, said, with tears in his
eyes.
"The discord which has divided us for so many years has allowed children
not born at the time of our dissension to grow into men. I have lost the
pleasure of watching the development of the off-spring of my neighbours
and the early friends of my youth, and of bestowing benefits on them,
but I hope shortly to repair the natural results of our melancholy
divisions."
He then made them splendid promises, and ordered them to assemble in a
neighbouring caravanserai, where he wished to give them a banquet in
proof of reconciliation. Passing from the depths of despair to
transports of joy, the Kardikiotes repaired gaily to the caravanserai,
heaping blessings on the pacha, and blaming each other for having ever
doubted his good faith.
Ali was carried down from Chenderia in a litter, attended by his
courtiers, who celebrated his clemency in pompous speeches, to which he
replied with gracious smiles. At the foot of the steep descent he
mounted his horse, and, followed by his troops, rode towards the
caravanserai. Alone, and in silence, he rode twice round it, then,
returning to the gate, which had just been closed by his order, he
pulled up his horse, and, signing to his own bodyguard to attack the
building, "Slay them!" he cried in a voice of thunder.
The guards remained motionless in surprise and horror, then as the
pacha, with a roar, repeated his order, they indignantly flung down
their arms. In vain he harangued, flattered, or threatened them; some
preserved a sullen silence, others ventured to demand mercy. Then he
ordered them away, and, calling on the Christian Mirdites who served
under his banner.
"To you, brave Latins," he cried, "I will now entrust the duty of
exterminating the foes of my race. Avenge me, and I will reward you
magnificently."
A confused murmur rose from the ranks. Ali imagined they were consulting
as to what recompense should be required as the price of such deed.
"Speak," said he; "I am ready to listen to your demands and to satisfy
them."
Then the Mirdite leader came forward and threw back the hood of his
black cloak.
"O Pacha!" said he, looking Ali boldly in the face, "thy words are an
insult; the Mirdites do not slaughter unarmed prisoners in cold blood.
Release the Kardikiotes, give them arms, and we will fight them to the
death; but we serve thee as soldiers and not as executioners."
At these words; which the black-cloaked battalion received with
applause, Ali thought himself betrayed, and looked around with doubt and
mistrust. Fear was nearly taking the place of mercy, words of pardon
were on his lips, when a certain Athanasius Vaya, a Greek schismatic,
and a favourite of the pacha’s, whose illegitimate son he was supposed
to be, advanced at the head of the scum of the army, and offered to
carry out the death sentence. Ali applauded his zeal, gave him full
authority to act, and spurred his horse to the top of a neighbouring
hill, the better to enjoy the spectacle. The Christian Mirdites and the
Mohammedan guards knelt together to pray for the miserable Kardikiotes,
whose last hour had come.
The caravanserai where they were shut in was square enclosure, open to
the sky, and intended to shelter herds of buffaloes. The prisoners
having heard nothing of what passed outside, were astonished to behold
Athanasius Vaya and his troop appearing on the top of the wall. They did
not long remain in doubt. Ali gave the signal by a pistol-shot, and a
general fusillade followed. Terrible cries echoed from the court; the
prisoners, terrified, wounded, crowded one upon another for shelter.
Some ran frantically hither and thither in this enclosure with no
shelter and no exit, until they fell, struck down by bullets. Some tried
to climb the walls, in hope of either escape or vengeance, only to be
flung back by either scimitars or muskets. It was a terrible scene of
despair and death.
After an hour of firing, a gloomy silence descended on the place, now
occupied solely by a heap of corpses. Ali forbade any burial rites on
pain of death, and placed over the gate an inscription in letters of
gold, informing posterity that six hundred Kardikiotes had there been
sacrificed to the memory of his mother Kamco.
When the shrieks of death ceased in the enclosure, they began to be
heard in the town. The assassins spread themselves through it, and
having violated the women and children, gathered them into a crowd to be
driven to Libokovo. At every halt in this frightful journey fresh
marauders fell on the wretched victims, claiming their share in cruelty
and debauchery. At length they arrived at their destination, where the
triumphant and implacable Chainitza awaited them. As after the taking of
Kormovo, she compelled the women to cut off their hair and to stuff with
it a mattress on which she lay. She then stripped them, and joyfully
narrated to them the massacre of their husbands, fathers, brothers and
sons, and when she had sufficiently enjoyed their misery they were again
handed over to the insults of the soldiery. Chainitza finally published
an edict forbidding either clothes, shelter, or food to be given to the
women and children of Kardiki, who were then driven forth into the woods
either to die of hunger or to be devoured by wild beasts. As to the
seventy-two hostages, Ali put them all to death when he returned to
Janina. His vengeance was indeed complete.
But as, filled with a horrible satisfaction, the pacha was enjoying the
repose of a satiated tiger, an indignant and threatening voice reached
him even in the recesses of his palace. The Sheik Yussuf, governor of
the castle of Janina, venerated as a saint by the Mohammedans on account
of his piety, and universally beloved and respected for his many
virtues, entered Ali’s sumptuous dwelling for the first time. The guards
on beholding him remained stupefied and motionless, then the most devout
prostrated themselves, while others went to inform the pacha; but no one
dared hinder the venerable man, who walked calmly and solemnly through
the astonished attendants. For him there existed no antechamber, no
delay; disdaining the ordinary forms of etiquette, he paced slowly
through the various apartments, until, with no usher to announce him, he
reached that of Ali. The latter, whose impiety by no means saved him
from superstitious terrors, rose hastily from the divan and advanced to
meet the holy sheik, who was followed by a crowd of silent courtiers.
Ali addressed him with the utmost respect, and endeavoured even to kiss
his right hand. Yussuf hastily withdrew it, covered it with his mantle,
and signed to the pacha to seat himself. Ali mechanically obeyed, and
waited in solemn silence to hear the reason of this unexpected visit.
Yussuf desired him to listen with all attention, and then reproached him
for his injustice and rapine, his treachery and cruelty, with such vivid
eloquence that his hearers dissolved in tears. Ali, though much
dejected, alone preserved his equanimity, until at length the sheik
accused him of having caused the death of Emineh. He then grew pale, and
rising, cried with terror:
"Alas! my father, whose name do you now pronounce? Pray for me, or at
least do not sink me to Gehenna with your curses!"
"There is no need to curse thee," answered Yussuf. "Thine own crimes
bear witness against thee. Allah has heard their cry. He will summon
thee, judge thee, and punish thee eternally. Tremble, for the time is at
hand! Thine hour is coming—is coming—is coming!"
Casting a terrible glance at the pacha, the holy man turned his back on
him, and stalked out of the apartment without another word.
Ali, in terror, demanded a thousand pieces of gold, put them in a white
satin purse, and himself hastened with them to overtake the sheik,
imploring him to recall his threats. But Yussuf deigned no answer, and
arrived at the threshold of the palace, shook off the dust of his feet
against it.
Ali returned to his apartment sad and downcast, and many days elapsed
before he could shake off the depression caused by this scene. But soon
he felt more ashamed of his inaction than of the reproaches which had
caused it, and on the first opportunity resumed his usual mode of life.
The occasion was the marriage of Moustai, Pacha of Scodra, with the
eldest daughter of Veli Pacha, called the Princess of Aulis, because she
had for dowry whole villages in that district. Immediately after the
announcement of this marriage Ali set on foot a sort of saturnalia,
about the details of which there seemed to be as much mystery as if he
had been preparing an assassination.
All at once, as if by a sudden inundation, the very scum of the earth
appeared to spread over Janina. The populace, as if trying to drown
their misery, plunged into a drunkenness which simulated pleasure.
Disorderly bands of mountebanks from the depths of Roumelia traversed
the streets, the bazaars and public places; flocks and herds, with
fleeces dyed scarlet, and gilded horns, were seen on all the roads
driven to the court by peasants under the guidance of their priests.
Bishops, abbots, ecclesiastics generally, were compelled to drink, and
to take part in ridiculous and indecent dances, Ali apparently thinking
to raise himself by degrading his more respectable subjects. Day and
night these spectacles succeeded each other with increasing rapidity,
the air resounded with firing, songs, cries, music, and the roaring of
wild beasts in shows. Enormous spits, loaded with meat, smoked before
huge braziers, and wine ran in floods at tables prepared in the palace
courts. Troops of brutal soldiers drove workmen from their labour with
whips, and compelled them to join in the entertainments; dirty and
impudent jugglers invaded private houses, and pretending that they had
orders from the pacha to display their skill, carried boldly off
whatever they could lay their hands upon. Ali saw the general
demoralization with pleasure, especially as it tended to the
gratification of his avarice, Every guest was expected to bring to the
palace gate a gift in proportion to his means, and foot officers watched
to see that no one forgot this obligation. At length, on the nineteenth
day, Ali resolved to crown the feast by an orgy worthy of himself. He
caused the galleries and halls of his castle by the lake to be decorated
with unheard-of splendour, and fifteen hundred guests assembled for a
solemn banquet. The pacha appeared in all his glory, surrounded by his
noble attendants and courtiers, and seating himself on a dais raised
above this base crowd which trembled at his glance, gave the signal to
begin. At his voice, vice plunged into its most shameless diversions,
and the wine-steeped wings of debauchery outspread themselves over the
feast. All tongues were at their freest, all imaginations ran wild, all
evil passions were at their height, when suddenly the noise ceased, and
the guests clung together in terror. A man stood at the entrance of the
hall, pale, disordered, and wild-eyed, clothed in torn and blood-stained
garments. As everyone made way at his approach, he easily reached the
pacha, and prostrating himself at his feet, presented a letter. Ali
opened and rapidly perused it; his lips trembled, his eyebrows met in a
terrible frown, the muscles of his forehead contracted alarmingly. He
vainly endeavoured to smile and to look as if nothing had happened, his
agitation betrayed him, and he was obliged to retire, after desiring a
herald to announce that he wished the banquet to continue.
Now for the subject of the message, and the cause of the dismay it
produced.
CHAPTER VI
Ali had long cherished a violent passion for Zobeide, the wife of his
son Veli Pacha: Having vainly attempted to gratify it after his son’s
departure, and being indignantly repulsed, he had recourse to drugs, and
the unhappy Zobeide remained in ignorance of her misfortune until she
found she was pregnant. Then, half-avowals from her women, compelled to
obey the pacha from fear of death, mixed with confused memories of her
own, revealed the whole terrible truth. Not knowing in her despair which
way to turn, she wrote to Ali, entreating him to visit the harem. As
head of the family, he had a right to enter, being supposed responsible
for the conduct of his sons’ families, no-law-giver having hitherto
contemplated the possibility of so disgraceful a crime. When he
appeared, Zobeide flung herself at his feet, speechless with grief. Ali
acknowledged his guilt, pleaded the violence of his passion, wept with
his victim, and entreating her to control herself and keep silence,
promised that all should be made right. Neither the prayers nor tears of
Zobeide could induce him to give up the intention of effacing the traces
of his first crime by a second even more horrible.
But the story was already whispered abroad, and Pacho Bey learnt all its
details from the spies he kept in Janina. Delighted at the prospect of
avenging himself on the father, he hastened with his news to the son.
Veli Pacha, furious, vowed vengeance, and demanded Pacho Bey’s help,
which was readily promised. But Ali had been warned, and was not a man
to be taken unawares. Pacho Bey, whom Veli had just promoted to the
office of sword-bearer, was attacked in broad daylight by six emissaries
sent from Janina. He obtained timely help, however, and five of the
assassins, taken red-handed, were at once hung without ceremony in the
market-place. The sixth was the messenger whose arrival with the news
had caused such dismay at Ali’s banquet.
As Ali reflected how the storm he had raised could best be laid, he was
informed that the ruler of the marriage feast sent by Moustai, Pacha of
Scodra, to receive the young bride who should reign in his harem, had
just arrived in the plain of Janina. He was Yussuf Bey of the Delres, an
old enemy of Ali’s, and had encamped with his escort of eight hundred
warriors at the foot of Tomoros of Dodona. Dreading some treachery, he
absolutely refused all entreaties to enter the town, and Ali seeing that
it was useless to insist, and that his adversary for the present was
safe, at once sent his grand-daughter, the Princess of Aulis, out to
him.
This matter disposed of, Ali was able to attend to his hideous family
tragedy. He began by effecting the disappearance of the women whom he
had been compelled to make his accomplices; they were simply sewn up in
sacks by gipsies and thrown into the lake. This done, he himself led the
executioners into a subterranean part of the castle, where they were
beheaded by black mutes as a reward for their obedience. He then sent a
doctor to Zobeide; who succeeded in causing a miscarriage, and who, his
work done, was seized and strangled by the black mutes who had just
beheaded the gipsies. Having thus got rid of all who could bear witness
to his crime, he wrote to Veli that he might now send for his wife and
two of his children, hitherto detained as hostages, and that the
innocence of Zobeide would confound a calumniator who had dared to
assail him with such injurious suspicions.
When this letter arrived, Pacho Bey, distrusting equally the treachery
of the father and the weakness of the son, and content with having sown
the seeds of dissension in his enemy’s family, had sufficient wisdom to
seek safety in flight. Ali, furious, vowed, on hearing this, that his
vengeance should overtake him even at the ends of the earth. Meanwhile
he fell back on Yussuf Bey of the Debres, whose escape when lately at
Janina still rankled in his mind. As Yussuf was dangerous both from
character and influence, Ali feared to attack him openly, and sought to
assassinate him. This was not precisely easy; for, exposed to a thousand
dangers of this kind, the nobles of that day were on their guard. Steel
and poison were used up, and another way had to be sought. Ali found it.
One of the many adventurers with whom Janina was filled penetrated to
the pacha’s presence, and offered to sell the secret of a powder whereof
three grains would suffice to kill a man with a terrible
explosion—explosive powder, in short. Ali heard with delight, but
replied that he must see it in action before purchasing.
In the dungeons of the castle by the lake, a poor monk of the order of
St. Basil was slowly dying, for having boldly refused a sacrilegious
simony proposed to him by Ali. He was a fit subject for the experiment,
and was successfully blown to pieces, to the great satisfaction of Ali,
who concluded his bargain, and hastened to make use of it. He prepared a
false firman, which, according to custom, was enclosed and sealed in a
cylindrical case, and sent to Yussuf Bey by a Greek, wholly ignorant of
the real object of his mission. Opening it without suspicion, Yussuf had
his arm blown off, and died in consequence, but found time to despatch a
message to Moustai Pacha of Scodra, informing him of the catastrophe,
and warning him to keep good guard.
Yussuf’s letter was received by Moustai just as a similar infernal
machine was placed in his hands under cover to his young wife. The
packet was seized, and a careful examination disclosed its nature. The
mother of Moustai, a jealous and cruel woman, accused her
daughter-in-law of complicity, and the unfortunate Ayesha, though
shortly to become a mother, expired in agony from the effects of poison,
only guilty of being the innocent instrument of her grandfather’s
treachery.
Fortune having frustrated Ali’s schemes concerning Moustai Pacha,
offered him as consolation a chance of invading the territory of Parga,
the only place in Epirus which had hitherto escaped his rule, and which
he greedily coveted. Agia, a small Christian town on the coast, had
rebelled against him and allied itself to Parga. It provided an excuse
for hostilities, and Ali’s troops, under his son Mouktar, first seized
Agia, where they only found a few old men to massacre, and then marched
on Parga, where the rebels had taken refuge. After a few skirmishes,
Mouktar entered the town, and though the Parganiotes fought bravely,
they must inevitably have surrendered had they been left to themselves.
But they had sought protection from the French, who had garrisoned the
citadel, and the French grenadiers descending rapidly from the height,
charged the Turks with so much fury that they fled in all directions,
leaving on the field four "bimbashis," or captains of a thousand, and a
considerable number of killed and wounded.
The pacha’s fleet succeeded no better than his army. Issuing from the
Gulf of Ambracia, it was intended to attack Parga from the sea, joining
in the massacre, and cutting off all hope of escape from that side, Ali
meaning to spare neither the garrison nor any male inhabitants over
twelve years of age. But a few shots fired from a small fort dispersed
the ships, and a barque manned by sailors from Paxos pursued them, a
shot from which killed Ali’s admiral on his quarter-deck. He was a Greek
of Galaxidi, Athanasius Macrys by name.
Filled with anxiety, Ali awaited news at Prevesa, where a courier, sent
off at the beginning of the action, had brought him oranges gathered in
the orchards of Parga. Ali gave him a purse of gold, and publicly
proclaimed his success. His joy was redoubled when a second messenger
presented two heads of French soldiers, and announced that his troops
were in possession of the lower part of Parga. Without further delay he
ordered his attendants to mount, entered his carriage, and started
triumphantly on the Roman road to Nicopolis. He sent messengers to his
generals, ordering them to spare the women and children of Parga,
intended for his harem, and above all to take strict charge of the
plunder. He was approaching the arena of Nicopolis when a third Tartar
messenger informed him of the defeat of his army. Ali changed
countenance, and could scarcely articulate the order to return to
Prevesa. Once in his palace, he gave way to such fury that all around
him trembled, demanding frequently if it could be true that his troops
were beaten. "May your misfortune be upon us!" his attendants answered,
prostrating themselves. All at once, looking out on the calm blue sea
which lay before his windows, he perceived his fleet doubling Cape
Pancrator and re-entering the Ambracian Gulf under full sail; it
anchored close by the palace, and on hailing the leading ship a speaking
trumpet announced to Ali the death of his admiral, Athanasius Macrys.
"But Parga, Parga!" cried Ali.
"May Allah grant the pacha long life! The Parganiotes have escaped the
sword of His Highness."
"It is the will of Allah!" murmured the pacha; whose head sank upon his
breast in dejection.
Arms having failed, Ali, as usual, took refuge in plots and treachery,
but this time, instead of corrupting his enemies with gold, he sought to
weaken them by division.
CHAPTER VII
The French commander Nicole, surnamed the "Pilgrim," on account of a
journey he had once made to Mecca, had spent six months at Janina with a
brigade of artillery which General Marmont, then commanding in the
Illyrian provinces, had for a time placed at Ali’s disposal. The old
officer had acquired the esteem and friendship of the pacha, whose
leisure he had often amused by stories of his campaigns and various
adventures, and although it was now long since they had met, he still
had the reputation of being Ali’s friend. Ali prepared his plans
accordingly. He wrote a letter to Colonel Nicole, apparently in
continuation of a regular correspondence between them, in which he
thanked the colonel for his continued affection, and besought him by
various powerful motives to surrender Parga, of which he promised him
the governorship during the rest of his life. He took good care to
complete his treason by allowing the letter to fall into the hands of
the chief ecclesiastics of Parga, who fell head-foremost into the trap.
Seeing that the tone of the letter was in perfect accordance with the
former friendly relations between their French governor and the pacha,
they were convinced of the former’s treachery. But the result was not as
Ali had hoped: the Parganiotes resumed their former negotiations with
the English, preferring to place their freedom in the hands of a
Christian nation rather than to fall under the rule of a Mohammedan
satrap.... The English immediately sent a messenger to Colonel Nicole,
offering honourable conditions of capitulation. The colonel returned a
decided refusal, and threatened to blow up the place if the inhabitants,
whose intentions he guessed, made the slightest hostile movement.
However, a few days later, the citadel was taken at night, owing to the
treachery of a woman who admitted an English detachment; and the next
day, to the general astonishment, the British standard floated over the
Acropolis of Parga.
All Greece was then profoundly stirred by a faint gleam of the dawn of
liberty, and shaken by a suppressed agitation. The Bourbons again
reigned in France, and the Greeks built a thousand hopes on an event
which changed the basis of the whole European policy. Above all, they
reckoned on powerful assistance from Russia. But England had already
begun to dread anything which could increase either the possessions or
the influence of this formidable power. Above all, she was determined
that the Ottoman Empire should remain intact, and that the Greek navy,
beginning to be formidable, must be destroyed. With these objects in
view, negotiations with Ali Pacha were resumed. The latter was still
smarting under his recent disappointment, and to all overtures answered
only, "Parga! I must have Parga."—And the English were compelled to
yield it!
Trusting to the word of General Campbell, who had formally promised, on
its surrender, that Parga should be classed along with the seven Ionian
Isles; its grateful inhabitants were enjoying a delicious rest after the
storm, when a letter from the Lord High Commissioner, addressed to
Lieutenant-Colonel de Bosset, undeceived them, and gave warning of the
evils which were to burst on the unhappy town.