On the 25th of March, 1817, notwithstanding the solemn promise made to

the Parganiotes, when they admitted the British troops, that they should

always be on the same footing as the Ionian Isles, a treaty was signed

at Constantinople by the British Plenipotentiary, which stipulated the

complete and stipulated cession of Parga and all its territory to, the

Ottoman Empire. Soon there arrived at Janine Sir John Cartwright, the

English Consul at Patras, to arrange for the sale of the lands of the

Parganiotes and discuss the conditions of their emigration. Never before

had any such compact disgraced European diplomacy, accustomed hitherto

to regard Turkish encroachments as simple sacrilege. But Ali Pacha

fascinated the English agents, overwhelming them with favours, honours,

and feasts, carefully watching them all the while. Their correspondence

was intercepted, and he endeavoured by means of his agents to rouse the

Parganiotes against them. The latter lamented bitterly, and appealed to

Christian Europe, which remained deaf to their cries. In the name of

their ancestors, they demanded the rights which had been guaranteed

them. "They will buy our lands," they said; "have we asked to sell them?

And even if we received their value, can gold give us a country and the

tombs of our ancestors?"

Ali Pacha invited the Lord High Commissioner of Great Britain, Sir

Thomas Maitland, to a conference at Prevesa, and complained of the

exorbitant price of 1,500,000, at which the commissioners had estimated

Parga and its territory, including private property and church

furniture. It had been hoped that Ali’s avarice would hesitate at this

high price, but he was not so easily discouraged. He give a banquet for

the Lord High Commissioner, which degenerated into a shameless orgy. In

the midst of this drunken hilarity the Turk and the Englishman disposed

of the territory of Parga; agreeing that a fresh estimate should be made

on the spot by experts chosen by both English and Turks. The result of

this valuation was that the indemnity granted to the Christians was

reduced by the English to the sum of 276,075 sterling, instead of the

original 500,000. And as Ali’s agents only arrived at the sum of 56,750,

a final conference was held at Buthrotum between Ali and the Lord High

Commissioner. The latter then informed the Parganiotes that the

indemnity allowed them was irrevocably fixed at 150,000! The transaction

is a disgrace to the egotistical and venal nation which thus allowed the

life and liberty of a people to be trifled with, a lasting blot on the

honour of England!

The Parganiotes at first could believe neither in the infamy of their

protectors nor in their own misfortune; but both were soon confirmed by

a proclamation of the Lord High Commissioner, informing them that the

pacha’s army was marching to take possession of the territory which, by

May 10th, must be abandoned for ever.

The fields were then in full bearing. In the midst of plains ripening

for a rich harvest were 80,000 square feet of olive trees, alone

estimated at two hundred thousand guineas. The sun shone in cloudless

azure, the air was balmy with the scent of orange trees, of pomegranates

and citrons. But the lovely country might have been inhabited by

phantoms; only hands raised to heaven and brows bent to the dust met

one’s eye. Even the very dust belonged no more to the wretched

inhabitants; they were forbidden to take a fruit or a flower, the

priests might not remove either relics or sacred images. Church,

ornaments, torches, tapers, pyxes, had by this treaty all become

Mahommedan property. The English had sold everything, even to the Host!

Two days more, and all must be left. Each was silently marking the door

of the dwelling destined so soon to shelter an enemy, with a red cross,

when suddenly a terrible cry echoed from street to street, for the Turks

had been perceived on the heights overlooking the town. Terrified and

despairing, the whole population hastened to fall prostrate before the

Virgin of Parga, the ancient guardian of their citadel. A mysterious

voice, proceeding from the sanctuary, reminded them that the English

had, in their iniquitous treaty, forgotten to include the ashes of those

whom a happier fate had spared the sight of the ruin of Parga. Instantly

they rushed to the graveyards, tore open the tombs, and collected the

bones and putrefying corpses. The beautiful olive trees were felled, an

enormous funeral pyre arose, and in the general excitement the orders of

the English chief were defied. With naked daggers in their hands,

standing in the crimson light of the flames which were consuming the

bones of their ancestors, the people of Parga vowed to slay their wives

and children, and to kill themselves to the last man, if the infidels

dared to set foot in the town before the appointed hour. Xenocles, the

last of the Greek poets, inspired by this sublime manifestation of

despair, even as Jeremiah by the fall of Jerusalem, improvised a hymn

which expresses all the grief of the exiles, and which the exiles

interrupted by their tears and sobs.

A messenger, crossing the sea in all haste, informed the Lord High

Commissioner of the terrible threat of the Parganiotes. He started at

once, accompanied by General Sir Frederic Adams, and landed at Parga by

the light of the funeral pyre. He was received with ill-concealed

indignation, and with assurances that the sacrifice would be at once

consummated unless Ali’s troops were held back. The general endeavoured

to console and to reassure the unhappy people, and then proceeded to the

outposts, traversing silent streets in which armed men stood at each

door only waiting a signal before slaying their families, and then

turning their weapons against the English and themselves. He implored

them to have patience, and they answered by pointing to the approaching

Turkish army and bidding him hasten. He arrived at last and commenced

negotiations, and the Turkish officers, no less uneasy than the English

garrison, promised to wait till the appointed hour. The next day passed

in mournful silence, quiet as death, At sunset on the following day, May

9, 1819, the English standard on the castle of Parga was hauled down,

and after a night spent in prayer and weeping, the Christians demanded

the signal of departure.

They had left their dwellings at break of day, and scattering on the

shore, endeavoured to collect some relics of their country. Some filled

little bags with ashes withdrawn from the funeral pile; others took

handfuls of earth, while the women and children picked up pebbles which

they hid in their clothing and pressed to their bosoms, as if fearing to

be deprived of them. Meanwhile, the ships intended to transport them

arrived, and armed English soldiers superintended the embarkation, which

the Turks hailed from afar with, ferocious cries. The Parganiotes were

landed in Corfu, where they suffered yet more injustice. Under various

pretexts the money promised them was reduced and withheld, until

destitution compelled them to accept the little that was offered. Thus

closed one of the most odious transactions which modern history has been

compelled to record.

The satrap of Janina had arrived at the fulfilment of his wishes. In the

retirement of his fairy-like palace by the lake he could enjoy

voluptuous pleasures to the full. But already seventy-eight years had

passed over his head, and old age had laid the burden of infirmity upon

him. His dreams were dreams of blood, and vainly he sought refuge in

chambers glittering with gold, adorned with arabesques, decorated with

costly armour and covered with the richest of Oriental carpets, remorse

stood ever beside him. Through the magnificence which surrounded him

there constantly passed the gale spectre of Emineh, leading onwards a

vast procession of mournful phantoms, and the guilty pasha buried his

face in his hands and shrieked aloud for help. Sometimes, ashamed of his

weakness, he endeavoured to defy both the reproaches of his conscience

and the opinion of the multitude, and sought to encounter criticism with

bravado. If, by chance, he overheard some blind singer chanting in the

streets the satirical verses which, faithful to the poetical and mocking

genius of their ancestors, the Greeks frequently composed about him, he

would order the singer to be brought, would bid him repeat his verses,

and, applauding him, would relate some fresh anecdote of cruelty,

saying, "Go, add that to thy tale; let thy hearers know what I can do;

let them understand that I stop at nothing in order to overcome my foes!

If I reproach myself with anything, it is only with the deeds I have

sometimes failed to carry out."

Sometimes it was the terrors of the life after death which assailed him.

The thought of eternity brought terrible visions in its train, and Ali

shuddered at the prospect of Al-Sirat, that awful bridge, narrow as a

spider’s thread and hanging over the furnaces of Hell; which a Mussulman

must cross in order to arrive at the gate of Paradise. He ceased to joke

about Eblis, the Prince of Evil, and sank by degrees into profound

superstition. He was surrounded by magicians and soothsayers; he

consulted omens, and demanded talismans and charms from the dervishes,

which he had either sewn into his garments, or suspended in the most

secret parts of his palace, in order to avert evil influences. A Koran

was hung about his neck as a defence against the evil eye, and

frequently he removed it and knelt before it, as did Louis XI before the

leaden figures of saints which adorned his hat. He ordered a complete

chemical laboratory from Venice, and engaged alchemists to distill the

water of immortality, by the help of which he hoped to ascend to the

planets and discover the Philosopher’s Stone. Not perceiving any

practical result of their labours, he ordered, the laboratory to be

burnt and the alchemists to be hung.

Ali hated his fellow-men. He would have liked to leave no survivors, and

often regretted his inability to destroy all those who would have cause

to rejoice at his death, Consequently he sought to accomplish as much

harm as he could during the time which remained to him, and for no

possible reason but that of hatred, he caused the arrest of both Ibrahim

Pasha, who had already suffered so much at his hands, and his son, and

confined them both in a dungeon purposely constructed under the grand

staircase of the castle by the lake, in order that he might have the

pleasure of passing over their heads each time he left his apartments or

returned to them.

It was not enough for Ali merely to put to death those who displeased

him, the form of punishment must be constantly varied in order to

produce a fresh mode of suffering, therefore new tortures had to be

constantly invented. Now it was a servant, guilty of absence without

leave, who was bound to a stake in the presence of his sister, and

destroyed by a cannon placed six paces off, but only loaded with powder,

in order to prolong the agony; now, a Christian accused of having tried

to blow up Janina by introducing mice with tinder fastened to their

tails into the powder magazine, who was shut up in the cage of Ali’s

favourite tiger and devoured by it.

The pasha despised the human race as much as he hated it. A European

having reproached him with the cruelty shown to his subjects, Ali

replied:—

"You do not understand the race with which I have to deal. Were I to

hang a criminal on yonder tree, the sight would not deter even his own

brother from stealing in the crowd at its foot. If I had an old man

burnt alive, his son would steal the ashes and sell them. The rabble can

be governed by fear only, and I am the one man who does it

successfully."

His conduct perfectly corresponded to his ideas. One great feast-day,

two gipsies devoted their lives in order to avert the evil destiny of

the pasha; and, solemnly convoking on their own heads all misfortunes

which might possibly befall him, cast themselves down from the palace

roof. One arose with difficulty, stunned and suffering, the other

remained on the ground with a broken leg. Ali gave them each forty

francs and an annuity of two pounds of maize daily, and considering this

sufficient, took no further trouble about them.

Every year, at Ramadan, a large sum was distributed in alms among poor

women without distinction of sect. But Ali contrived to change this act

of benevolence into a barbarous form of amusement.

As he possessed several palaces in Janina at a considerable distance

from each other, the one at which a distribution was to take place was

each day publicly announced, and when the women had waited there for an

hour or two, exposed to sun, rain or cold, as the case might be, they

were suddenly informed that they must go to some other palace, at the

opposite end of the town. When they got there, they usually had to wait

for another hour, fortunate if they were not sent off to a third place

of meeting. When the time at length arrived, an eunuch appeared,

followed by Albanian soldiers armed with staves, carrying a bag of

money, which he threw by handfuls right into the midst of the assembly.

Then began a terrible uproar. The women rushed to catch it, upsetting

each other, quarreling, fighting, and uttering cries of terror and pain,

while the Albanians, pretending to enforce order, pushed into the crowd,

striking right and left with their batons. The pacha meanwhile sat at a

window enjoying the spectacle, and impartially applauding all well

delivered blows, no matter whence they came. During these distributions,

which really benefitted no one, many women were always severely hurt,

and some died from the blows they had received.

Ali maintained several carriages for himself and his family, but allowed

no one else to share in this prerogative. To avoid being jolted, he

simply took up the pavement in Janina and the neighbouring towns, with

the result that in summer one was choked by dust, and in winter could

hardly get through the mud. He rejoiced in the public inconvenience, and

one day having to go out in heavy rain, he remarked to one of the

officers of his escort, "How delightful to be driven through this in a

carriage, while you will have the pleasure of following on horseback!

You will be wet and dirty, whilst I smoke my pipe and laugh at your

condition."

He could not understand why Western sovereigns should permit their

subjects to enjoy the same conveniences and amusements as themselves.

"If I had a theatre," he said, "I would allow no one to be present at

performances except my own children; but these idiotic Christians do not

know how to uphold their own dignity."

There was no end to the mystifications which it amused the pacha to

carry out with those who approached him.

One day he chose to speak Turkish to a Maltese merchant who came to

display some jewels. He was informed that the merchant understood only

Greek and Italian. He none the less continued his discourse without

allowing anyone to translate what he said into Greek. The Maltese at

length lost patience, shut up his cases, and departed. Ali watched him

with the utmost calm, and as he went out told him, still in Turkish, to

come again the next day.

An unexpected occurrence seemed, like the warning finger of Destiny, to

indicate an evil omen for the pacha’s future. "Misfortunes arrive in

troops," says the forcible Turkish proverb, and a forerunner of

disasters came to Ali Pacha.

One morning he was suddenly roused by the Sheik Yussuf, who had forced

his way in, in spite of the guards. "Behold!" said he, handing Ali a

letter, "Allah, who punishes the guilty, has permitted thy seraglio of

Tepelen to be burnt. Thy splendid palace, thy beautiful furniture,

costly stuffs, cashmeers, furs, arms, all are destroyed! And it is thy

youngest and best beloved son, Salik Bey himself, whose hand kindled the

flames!" So saying; Yussuf turned and departed, crying with a triumphant

voice, "Fire! fire! fire!"

Ali instantly ordered his horse, and, followed by his guards, rode

without drawing rein to Tepelen. As soon as he arrived at the place

where his palace had formerly insulted the public misery, he hastened to

examine the cellars where his treasures were deposited. All was intact,

silver plate, jewels, and fifty millions of francs in gold, enclosed in

a well over which he had caused a tower to be built. After this

examination he ordered all the ashes to be carefully sifted in hopes of

recovering the gold in the tassels and fringes of the sofas, and the

silver from the plate and the armour. He next proclaimed through the

length and breadth of the land, that, being by the hand of Allah

deprived of his house, and no longer possessing anything in his native

town, he requested all who loved him to prove their affection by

bringing help in proportion. He fixed the day of reception for each

commune, and for almost each individual of any rank, however small,

according to their distance from Tepelen, whither these evidences of

loyalty were to be brought.

During five days Ali received these forced benevolences from all parts.

He sat, covered with rags, on a shabby palm-leaf mat placed at the outer

gate of his ruined palace, holding in his left hand a villainous pipe of

the kind used by the lowest people, and in his right an old red cap,

which he extended for the donations of the passers-by. Behind stood a

Jew from Janina, charged with the office of testing each piece of gold

and valuing jewels which were offered instead of money; for, in terror,

each endeavoured to appear generous. No means of obtaining a rich

harvest were neglected; for instance, Ali distributed secretly large

sums among poor and obscure people, such as servants, mechanics, and

soldiers, in order that by returning them in public they might appear to

be making great sacrifices, so that richer and more distinguished

persons could not, without appearing ill-disposed towards the pacha,

offer only the same amount as did the poor, but were obliged to present

gifts of enormous value.

After this charity extorted from their fears, the pacha’s subjects hoped

to be at peace. But a new decree proclaimed throughout Albania required

them to rebuild and refurnish the formidable palace of Tepelen entirely

at the public expense. Ali then returned to Janina, followed by his

treasure and a few women who had escaped from the flames, and whom he

disposed of amongst his friends, saying that he was no longer

sufficiently wealthy to maintain so many slaves.

Fate soon provided him with a second opportunity for amassing wealth.

Arta, a wealthy town with a Christian population, was ravaged by the

plague, and out of eight thousand inhabitants, seven thousand were swept

away. Hearing this, Ali hastened to send commissioners to prepare an

account of furniture and lands which the pacha claimed as being heir to

his subjects. A few livid and emaciated spectres were yet to be found in

the streets of Arta. In order that the inventory might be more complete,

these unhappy beings were compelled to wash in the Inachus blankets,

sheets, and clothes steeped in bubonic infection, while the collectors

were hunting everywhere for imaginary hidden treasure. Hollow trees were

sounded, walls pulled down, the most unlikely corners examined, and a

skeleton which was discovered still girt with a belt containing Venetian

sequins was gathered up with the utmost care. The archons of the town

were arrested and tortured in the hope of discovering buried treasure,

the clue to which had disappeared along with the owners. One of these

magistrates, accused of having hidden some valuable objects, was plunged

up to his shoulders in a boiler full of melted lead and boiling oil. Old

men, women, children, rich and poor alike, were interrogated, beaten,

and compelled to abandon the last remains of their property in order to

save their lives.

Having thus decimated the few inhabitants remaining to the town, it

became necessary to repeople it. With this object in view, Ali’s

emissaries overran the villages of Thessaly, driving before them all the

people they met in flocks, and compelling them to settle in Arta. These

unfortunate colonists were also obliged to find money to pay the pacha

for the houses they were forced to occupy.

This business being settled, Ali turned to another which had long been

on his mind. We have seen how Ismail Pacho Bey escaped the assassins

sent to murder him. A ship, despatched secretly from Prevesa, arrived at

the place of his retreat. The captain, posing as a merchant, invited

Ismail to come on board and inspect his goods. But the latter, guessing

a trap, fled promptly, and for some time all trace of him was lost. Ali,

in revenge, turned his wife out of the palace at Janina which she still

occupied, and placed her in a cottage, where she was obliged to earn a

living by spinning. But he did not stop there, and learning after some

time that Pacho Bey had sought refuge with the Nazir of Drama, who had

taken him into favour, he resolved to strike a last blow, more sure and

more terrible than the others. Again Ismail’s lucky star saved him from

the plots of his enemy. During a hunting party he encountered a

kapidgi-bachi, or messenger from the sultan, who asked him where he

could find the Nazir, to whom he was charged with an important

communication. As kapidgi-bachis are frequently bearers of evil tidings,

which it is well to ascertain at once, and as the Nazir was at some

distance, Pacho Bey assumed the latter’s part, and the sultan’s

confidential messenger informed him that he was the bearer of a firman

granted at the request of Ali Pacha of Janina.

"Ali of Tepelenir. He is my friend. How can I serve him?"

"By executing the present order, sent you by the Divan, desiring you to

behead a traitor, named Pacho Bey, who crept into your service a short

time ago.

"Willingly! but he is not an easy man to seize being brave, vigorous,

clever, and cunning. Craft will be necessary in this case. He may appear

at any moment, and it is advisable that he should not see you. Let no

one suspect who you are, but go to Drama, which is only two hours

distant, and await me there. I shall return this evening, and you can

consider your errand as accomplished."

The kapidgi-bachi made a sign of comprehension, and directed his course

towards Drama; while Ismail, fearing that the Nazir, who had only known

him a short time, would sacrifice him with the usual Turkish

indifference, fled in the opposite direction. At the end of an hour he

encountered a Bulgarian monk, with whom he exchanged clothes—a disguise

which enabled him to traverse Upper Macedonia in safety. Arriving at the

great Servian convent in the mountains whence the Axius takes its rise,

he obtained admission under an assumed name. But feeling sure of the

discretion of the monks, after a few days he explained his situation to

them.

Ali, learning the ill-success of his latest stratagem, accused the Nazir

of conniving at Pacho Bey’s escape. But the latter easily justified

himself with the Divan by giving precise information of what had really

occurred. This was what Ali wanted, who profited thereby in having the

fugitive’s track followed up, and soon got wind of his retreat. As Pacho

Bey’s innocence had been proved in the explanations given to the Porte,

the death firman obtained against him became useless, and Ali affected

to abandon him to his fate, in order the better to conceal the new plot

he was conceiving against him.

Athanasius Vaya, chief assassin of the Kardikiotes, to whom Ali imparted

his present plan for the destruction of Ismail, begged for the honour of

putting it into execution, swearing that this time Ismail should not

escape. The master and the instrument disguised their scheme under the

appearance of a quarrel, which astonished the whole town. At the end of

a terrible scene which took place in public, Ali drove the confidant of

his crimes from the palace, overwhelming him with insults, and declaring

that were Athanasius not the son of his children’s foster-mother, he

would have sent him to the gibbet. He enforced his words by the

application of a stick, and Vaya, apparently overwhelmed by terror and

affliction, went round to all the nobles of the town, vainly entreating

them to intercede for him. The only favour which Mouktar Pacha could

obtain for him was a sentence of exile allowing him to retreat to

Macedonia.

Athanasius departed from Janina with all the demonstrations of utter

despair, and continued his route with the haste of one who fears

pursuit. Arrived in Macedonia, he assumed the habit of a monk, and

undertook a pilgrimage to Mount Athos, saying that both the disguise and

the journey were necessary to his safety. On the way he encountered one

of the itinerant friars of the great Servian convent, to whom he

described his disgrace in energetic terms, begging him to obtain his

admission among the lay brethren of his monastery.

Delighted at the prospect of bringing back to the fold of the Church a

man so notorious for his crimes, the friar hastened to inform his

superior, who in his turn lost no time in announcing to Pacho Bey that

his compatriot and companion in misfortune was to be received among the

lay brethren, and in relating the history of Athanasius as he himself

had heard it. Pacho Bey, however, was not easily deceived, and at once

guessing that Vaya’s real object was his own assassination, told his

doubts to the superior, who had already received him as a friend. The

latter retarded the reception of Vaya so as to give Pacho time to escape

and take the road to Constantinople. Once arrived there, he determined

to brave the storm and encounter Ali openly.

Endowed by nature with a noble presence and with masculine firmness,

Pacho Bey possessed also the valuable gift of speaking all the various

tongues of the Ottoman Empire. He could not fail to distinguish himself

in the capital and to find an opening for his great talents. But his

inclination drove him at first to seek his fellow-exiles from Epirus,

who were either his old companions in arms, friends, or relations, for

he was allied to all the principal families, and was even, through his

wife, nearly connected with his enemy, Ali Pacha himself.

He had learnt what this unfortunate lady had already endured on his

account, and feared that she would suffer yet more if he took active

measures against the pacha. While he yet hesitated between affection and

revenge, he heard that she had died of grief and misery. Now that

despair had put an end to uncertainty, he set his hand to the work.

At this precise moment Heaven sent him a friend to console and aid him

in his vengeance, a Christian from OEtolia, Paleopoulo by name. This man

was on the point of establishing himself in Russian Bessarabia, when he

met Pacho Bey and joined with him in the singular coalition which was to

change the fate of the Tepelenian dynasty.

Paleopoulo reminded his companion in misfortune of a memorial presented

to the Divan in 1812, which had brought upon Ali a disgrace from which

he only escaped in consequence of the overwhelming political events

which just then absorbed the attention of the Ottoman Government. The

Grand Seigneur had sworn by the tombs of his ancestors to attend to the

matter as soon as he was able, and it was only requisite to remind him

of his vow. Pacho Bey and his friend drew up a new memorial, and knowing

the sultan’s avarice, took care to dwell on the immense wealth possessed

by Ali, on his scandalous exactions, and on the enormous sums diverted

from the Imperial Treasury. By overhauling the accounts of his

administration, millions might be recovered. To these financial

considerations Pacho Bey added some practical ones. Speaking as a man

sure of his facts and well acquainted with the ground, he pledged his

head that with twenty thousand men he would, in spite of Ali’s troops

and strongholds, arrive before Janina without firing a musket.

However good these plans appeared, they were by no means to the taste of

the sultan’s ministers, who were each and all in receipt of large

pensions from the man at whom they struck. Besides, as in Turkey it is

customary for the great fortunes of Government officials to be absorbed

on their death by the Imperial Treasury, it of course appeared easier to

await the natural inheritance of Ali’s treasures than to attempt to

seize them by a war which would certainly absorb part of them.

Therefore, while Pacho Bey’s zeal was commended, he obtained only

dilatory answers, followed at length by a formal refusal.

Meanwhile, the old OEtolian, Paleopoulo, died, having prophesied the

approaching Greek insurrection among his friends, and pledged Pacho Bey

to persevere in his plans of vengeance, assuring him that before long

Ali would certainly fall a victim to them. Thus left alone, Pacho,

before taking any active steps in his work of vengeance, affected to

give himself up to the strictest observances of the Mohammedan religion.

Ali, who had established a most minute surveillance over his actions,

finding that his time was spent with ulemas and dervishes, imagined that

he had ceased to be dangerous, and took no further trouble about him.

CHAPTER VIII

A career of successful crime had established Ali’s rule over a

population equal to that of the two kingdoms of Sweden and Norway. But

his ambition was not yet satisfied. The occupation of Parga did not

crown his desires, and the delight which it caused him was much tempered

by the escape of the Parganiotes, who found in exile a safe refuge from

his persecution. Scarcely had he finished the conquest of Middle Albania

before he was exciting a faction against the young Moustai Pacha in

Scodra, a new object of greed. He also kept an army of spies in

Wallachia, Moldavia, Thrace, and Macedonia, and, thanks to them, he

appeared to be everywhere present, and was mixed up in every intrigue,

private or political, throughout the empire. He had paid the English

agents the price agreed on for Parga, but he repaid himself five times

over, by gifts extorted from his vassals, and by the value of the Parga

lands, now become his property. His palace of Tepelen had been rebuilt

at the public expense, and was larger and more magnificent than before;

Janina was embellished with new buildings; elegant pavilions rose on the

shores of the lake; in short, Ali’s luxury was on a level with his vast

riches. His sons and grandsons were provided for by important positions,

and Ali himself was sovereign prince in everything but the name.

There was no lack of flattery, even from literary persons. At Vienna a

poem was pointed in his honour, and a French-Greek Grammar was dedicated

to him, and such titles as "Most Illustrious," "Most Powerful," and

"Most Clement," were showered upon him, as upon a man whose lofty

virtues and great exploits echoed through the world. A native of

Bergamo, learned in heraldry, provided him with a coat of arms,

representing, on a field gules, a lion, embracing three cubs, emblematic

of the Tepelenian dynasty. Already he had a consul at Leucadia accepted

by the English, who, it is said, encouraged him to declare himself

hereditary Prince of Greece, under the nominal suzerainty of the sultan;

their real intention being to use him as a tool in return for their

protection, and to employ him as a political counter-balance to the

hospodars of Moldavia and Wallachia, who for the last twenty years had

been simply Russian agents in disguise, This was not all; many of the

adventurers with whom the Levant swarms, outlaws from every country, had

found a refuge in Albania, and helped not a little to excite Ali’s

ambition by their suggestions. Some of these men frequently saluted him

as King, a title which he affected to reject with indignation; and he

disdained to imitate other states by raising a private standard of his

own, preferring not to compromise his real power by puerile displays of

dignity; and he lamented the foolish ambition of his children, who would

ruin him, he said, by aiming, each, at becoming a vizier. Therefore he

did not place his hope or confidence in them, but in the adventurers of

every sort and kind, pirates, coiners, renegades, assassins, whom he

kept in his pay and regarded as his best support. These he sought to

attach to his person as men who might some day be found useful, for he

did not allow the many favours of fortune to blind him to the real

danger of his position. A vizier," he was answered, "resembles a man

wrapped in costly furs, but he sits on a barrel of powder, which only

requires a spark to explode it." The Divan granted all the concessions

which Ali demanded, affecting ignorance of his projects of revolt and

his intelligence with the enemies of the State; but then apparent

weakness was merely prudent temporising. It was considered that Ali,

already advanced in years, could not live much longer, and it was hoped

that, at his death, Continental Greece, now in some measure detached

from the Ottoman rule, would again fall under the sultan’s sway.

Meanwhile, Pacho Bey, bent on silently undermining Ali’s influence; had

established himself as an intermediary for all those who came to demand

justice on account of the pacha’s exactions, and he contrived that both

his own complaints and those of his clients, should penetrate to the

ears of the sultan; who, pitying his misfortunes, made him a

kapidgi-bachi, as a commencement of better things. About this time the

sultan also admitted to the Council a certain Abdi Effendi of Larissa,

one of the richest nobles of Thessaly, who had been compelled by the

tyranny of Veli Pacha to fly from his country. The two new dignitaries,

having secured Khalid Effendi as a partisan, resolved to profit by his

influence to carry out their plans of vengeance on the Tepelenian

family. The news of Pacho Bey’s promotion roused Ali from the security

in which he was plunged, and he fell a prey to the most lively anxiety.

Comprehending at once the evil which this man,—trained in his own

school, might cause him, he exclaimed, "Ah! if Heaven would only restore

me the strength of my youth, I would plunge my sword into his heart even

in the midst of the Divan."

It was not long before Ali’s enemies found an extremely suitable

opportunity for opening their attack. Veli Pacha, who had for his own

profit increased the Thessalian taxation fivefold, had in doing so

caused so much oppression that many of the inhabitants preferred the

griefs and dangers of emigration rather than remain under so tyrannical

a rule. A great number of Greeks sought refuge at Odessa, and the great

Turkish families assembled round Pacho Bey and Abdi Effendi at

Constantinople, who lost no opportunity of interceding in their favour.

The sultan, who as yet did not dare to act openly against the Tepelenian

family, was at least able to relegate Veli to the obscure post of

Lepanto, and Veli, much disgusted, was obliged to obey. He quitted the

new palace he had just built at Rapehani, and betook himself to the

place of exile, accompanied by actors, Bohemian dancers, bear leaders,

and a crowd of prostitutes.

Thus attacked in the person of his most powerful son, Ali thought to

terrify his enemies by a daring blow. He sent three Albanians to

Constantinople to assassinate Pacho Bey. They fell upon him as he was

proceeding to the Mosque of Saint-Sophia, on the day on which the sultan

also went in order to be present at the Friday ceremonial prayer, and

fired several shots at him. He was wounded, but not mortally.

The assassins, caught red-handed, were hung at the gate of the Imperial

Seraglio, but not before confessing that they were sent by the Pacha of

Janina. The Divan, comprehending at last that so dangerous a man must be

dealt with at any cost, recapitulated all Ali’s crimes, and pronounced a

sentence against him which was confirmed by a decree of the Grand Mufti.

It set forth that Ali Tepelen, having many times obtained pardon for his

crimes, was now guilty of high treason in the first degree, and that he

would, as recalcitrant, be placed under the ban of the Empire if he did

not within forty days appear at the Gilded Threshold of the Felicitous

Gate of the Monarch who dispenses crowns to the princes who reign in

this world, in order to justify himself. As may be supposed, submission

to such an order was about the last thing Ali contemplated. As he failed

to appear, the Divan caused the Grand Mufti to launch the thunder of

excommunication against him.

Ali had just arrived at Parga, which he now saw for the third time since

he had obtained it, when his secretaries informed him that only the rod

of Moses could save him from the anger of Pharaoh—a figurative mode of

warning him that he had nothing to hope for. But Ali, counting on his

usual luck, persisted in imagining that he could, once again, escape

from his difficulty by the help of gold and intrigue. Without

discontinuing the pleasures in which he was immersed, he contented

himself with sending presents and humble petitions to Constantinople.

But both were alike useless, for no one even ventured to transmit them

to the sultan, who had sworn to cut off the head of anyone who dared

mention the name of Ali Tepelen in his presence.

Receiving no answer to his overtures, Ali became a prey to terrible

anxiety. As he one day opened the Koran to consult it as to his future,

his divining rod stopped at verse 82, chap. xix., which says, "He doth

flatter himself in vain. He shall appear before our tribunal naked and

bare." Ali closed the book and spat three times into his bosom. He was

yielding to the most dire presentiments, when a courier, arriving from

the capital, informed him that all hope of pardon was lost.

He ordered his galley to be immediately prepared, and left his seraglio,

casting a look of sadness on the beautiful gardens where only yesterday

he had received the homage of his prostrate slaves. He bade farewell to

his wives, saying that he hoped soon to return, and descended to the

shore, where the rowers received him with acclamations. The sail was set

to a favourable breeze, and Ali, leaving the shore he was never to see

again, sailed towards Erevesa, where he hoped to meet the Lord High

Commissioner Maitland. But the time of prosperity had gone by, and the

regard which had once been shown him changed with his fortunes. The

interview he sought was not granted.

The sultan now ordered a fleet to be equipped, which, after Ramadan, was

to disembark troops on the coast of Epirus, while all the neighbouring

pashas received orders to hold themselves in readiness to march with all

the troops of their respective Governments against Ali, whose name was

struck out of the list of viziers. Pacho Bey was named Pasha of Janina

and Delvino on condition of subduing them, and was placed in command of

the whole expedition.

However, notwithstanding these orders, there was not at the beginning of

April, two months after the attempted assassination of Pacho Bey, a

single soldier ready to march on Albania. Ramadan, that year, did not

close until the new moon of July. Had Ali put himself boldly at the head

of the movement which was beginning to stir throughout Greece, he might

have baffled these vacillating projects, and possibly dealt a fatal blow

to the Ottoman Empire. As far back as 1808, the Hydriotes had offered to

recognise his son Veli, then Vizier of the Morea, as their Prince, and

to support him in every way, if he would proclaim the independence of

the Archipelago. The Moreans bore him no enmity until he refused to help

them to freedom, and would have returned to him had he consented.

On the other side, the sultan, though anxious for war, would not spend a

penny in order to wage it; and it was not easy to corrupt some of the

great vassals ordered to march at their own expense against a man in

whose downfall they had no special interest. Nor were the means of

seduction wanting to Ali, whose wealth was enormous; but he preferred to

keep it in order to carry on the war which he thought he could no longer

escape. He made, therefore, a general appeal to all Albanian warriors,

whatever their religion. Mussulmans and Christians, alike attracted by

the prospect of booty and good pay, flocked to his standard in crowds.

He organised all these adventurers on the plan of the Armatous, by

companies, placing a captain of his own choice at the head of each, and

giving each company a special post to defend. Of all possible plans this

was the best adapted to his country, where only a guerilla warfare can

be carried on, and where a large army could not subsist.

In repairing to the posts assigned to them, these troops committed such

terrible depredations that the provinces sent to Constantinople

demanding their suppression. The Divan answered the petitioners that it

was their own business to suppress these disorders, and to induce the

Klephotes to turn their arms against Ali, who had nothing to hope from

the clemency of the Grand Seigneur. At the same time circular letters

were addressed to the Epirotes, warning them to abandon the cause of a

rebel, and to consider the best means of freeing themselves from a

traitor, who, having long oppressed them, now sought to draw down on

their country all the terrors of war. Ali, who every where maintained

numerous and active spies, now redoubled his watchfulness, and not a

single letter entered Epirus without being opened and read by his

agents. As an extra precaution, the guardians of the passes were

enjoined to slay without mercy any despatch-bearer not provided with an

order signed by Ali himself; and to send to Janina under escort any

travellers wishing to enter Epirus. These measures were specially aimed

against Suleyman Pacha, who had succeeded Veli in the government of

Thessaly, and replaced Ali himself in the office of Grand Provost of the

Highways. Suleyman’s secretary was a Greek called Anagnorto, a native of

Macedonia, whose estates Ali had seized, and who had fled with his

family to escape further persecution. He had become attached to the

court party, less for the sake of vengeance on Ali than to aid the cause

of the Greeks, for whose freedom he worked by underhand methods. He

persuaded Suleyman Pacha that the Greeks would help him to dethrone Ali,

for whom they cherished the deepest hatred, and he was determined that

they should learn the sentence of deprivation and excommunication

fulminated against the rebel pacha. He introduced into the Greek

translation which he was commissioned to make, ambiguous phrases which

were read by the Christians as a call to take up arms in the cause of

liberty. In an instant, all Hellas was up in arms. The Mohammedans were

alarmed, but the Greeks gave out that it was in order to protect

themselves and their property against the bands of brigands which had

appeared on all sides. This was the beginning of the Greek insurrection,

and occurred in May 1820, extending from Mount Pindus to Thermopylae.

However, the Greeks, satisfied with having vindicated their right to

bear arms in their own defence, continued to pay their taxes, and

abstained from all hostility.

At the news of this great movement, Ali’s friends advised him to turn it

to his own advantage. "The Greeks in arms," said they, "want a chief:

offer yourself as their leader. They hate you, it is true, but this

feeling may change. It is only necessary to make them believe, which is

easily done, that if they will support your cause you will embrace

Christianity and give them freedom."

There was no time to lose, for matters became daily more serious. Ali

hastened to summon what he called a Grand Divan, composed of the chiefs

of both sects, Mussulmans and Christians. There were assembled men of

widely different types, much astonished at finding themselves in

company: the venerable Gabriel, Archbishop of Janina, and uncle of the

unfortunate Euphrosyne, who had been dragged thither by force; Abbas,

the old head of the police, who had presided at the execution of the

Christian martyr; the holy bishop of Velas, still bearing the marks of

the chains with which Ali had loaded him; and Porphyro, Archbishop of

Arta, to whom the turban would have been more becoming than the mitre.

Ashamed of the part he was obliged to play, Ali, after long hesitation,

decided on speaking, and, addressing the Christians, "O Greeks!" he

said, "examine my conduct with unprejudiced minds, and you will see

manifest proofs of the confidence and consideration which I have ever

shown you. What pacha has ever treated you as I have done? Who would

have treated your priests and the objects of your worship with as much

respect? Who else would have conceded the privileges which you enjoy?

for you hold rank in my councils, and both the police and the

administration of my States are in your hands. I do not, however, seek

to deny the evils with which I have afflicted you; but, alas! these

evils have been the result of my enforced obedience to the cruel and

perfidious orders of the Sublime Porte. It is to the Porte that these

wrongs must be attributed, for if my actions be attentively regarded it

will be seen that I only did harm when compelled thereto by the course

of events. Interrogate my actions, they will speak more fully than a

detailed apology.

"My position with regard to the Suliotes allowed no half-and-half

measures. Having once broken with them, I was obliged either to drive

them from my country or to exterminate them. I understood the political

hatred of the Ottoman Cabinet too well not to know that it would declare

war against me sooner or later, and I knew that resistance would be

impossible, if on one side I had to repel the Ottoman aggression, and on

the other to fight against the formidable Suliotes.

"I might say the same of the Parganiotes. You know that their town was

the haunt of my enemies, and each time that I appealed to them to change

their ways they answered only with insults and threats. They constantly

aided the Suliotes with whom I was at war; and if at this moment they

still were occupying Parga, you would see them throw open the gates of

Epirus to the forces of the sultan. But all this does not prevent my

being aware that my enemies blame me severely, and indeed I also blame

myself, and deplore the faults which the difficulty of my position has

entailed upon me. Strong in my repentance, I do not hesitate to address

myself to those whom I have most grievously wounded. Thus I have long

since recalled to my service a great number of Suliotes, and those who

have responded to my invitation are occupying important posts near my

person. To complete the reconciliation, I have written to those who are

still in exile, desiring them to return fearlessly to their country, and

I have certain information that this proposal has been everywhere

accepted with enthusiasm. The Suliotes will soon return to their

ancestral houses, and, reunited under my standard, will join me in

combating the Osmanlis, our common enemies.

"As to the avarice of which I am accused, it seems easily justified by

the constant necessity I was under of satisfying the inordinate cupidity

of the Ottoman ministry, which incessantly made me pay dearly for

tranquillity. This was a personal affair, I acknowledge, and so also is

the accumulation of treasure made in order to support the war, which the

Divan has at length declared."

Here Ali ceased, then having caused a barrel full of gold pieces to be

emptied on the floor, he continued:

"Behold a part of the treasure I have preserved with so much care, and

which has been specially obtained from the Turks, our common enemies: it

is yours. I am now more than ever delighted at being the friend of the

Greeks. Their bravery is a sure earnest of victory, and we will shortly

re-establish the Greek Empire, and drive the Osmanlis across the

Bosphorus. O bishops and priests of Issa the prophet! bless the arms of

the Christians, your children. O primates! I call upon you to defend

your rights, and to rule justly the brave nation associated with my

interests."

This discourse produced very different impressions on the Christian

priests and archons. Some replied only by raising looks of despair to

Heaven, others murmured their adhesion. A great number remained

uncertain, not knowing what to decide. The Mirdite chief, he who had

refused to slaughter the Kardikiotes, declared that neither he nor any

Skipetar of the Latin communion would bear arms against their legitimate

sovereign the sultan. But his words were drowned by cries of "Long live

Ali Pasha! Long live the restorer of liberty!" uttered by some chiefs of

adventurers and brigands.

CHAPTER IX

Yet next day, May 24th, 1820, Ali addressed a circular letter to his

brothers the Christians, announcing that in future he would consider

them as his most faithful subjects, and that henceforth he remitted the

taxes paid to his own family. He wound up by asking for soldiers, but

the Greeks having learnt the instability of his promises, remained deaf

to his invitations. At the same time he sent messengers to the

Montenegrins and the Servians, inciting them to revolt, and organised

insurrections in Wallachia and Moldavia to the very environs of

Constantinople.

Whilst the Ottoman vassals assembled only in small numbers and very

slowly under their respective standards, every day there collected round

the castle of Janina whole companies of Toxidae, of Tapazetae, and of

Chamidae; so that Ali, knowing that Ismail Pacho Bey had boasted that he

could arrive in sight of Janina without firing a gun, said in his turn

that he would not treat with the Porte until he and his troops should be

within eight leagues of Constantinople.

He had fortified and supplied with munitions of war Ochrida, Avlone,

Cannia, Berat, Cleisoura, Premiti, the port of Panormus, Santi-Quaranta,

Buthrotum, Delvino, Argyro-Castron, Tepelen, Parga, Prevesa, Sderli,

Paramythia, Arta, the post of the Five Wells, Janina and its castles.

These places contained four hundred and twenty cannons of all sizes, for

the most part in bronze, mounted on siege-carriages, and seventy

mortars. Besides these, there were in the castle by the lake,

independently of the guns in position, forty field-pieces, sixty

mountain guns, a number of Congreve rockets, formerly given him by the

English, and an enormous quantity of munitions of war. Finally, he

endeavoured to establish a line of semaphores between Janina and

Prevesa, in order to have prompt news of the Turkish fleet, which was

expected to appear on this coast.

Ali, whose strength seemed to increase with age, saw to everything and

appeared everywhere; sometimes in a litter borne by his Albanians,

sometimes in a carriage raised into a kind of platform, but it was more

frequently on horseback that he appeared among his labourers. Often he

sat on the bastions in the midst of the batteries, and conversed

familiarly with those who surrounded him. He narrated the successes

formerly obtained against the sultan by Kara Bazaklia, Vizier of Scodra,

who, like himself, had been attained with the sentence of deprivation

and excommunication; recounting how the rebel pacha, shut up in his

citadel with seventy-two warriors, had seen collapse at his feet the

united forces of four great provinces of the Ottoman Empire, commanded

by twenty-two pachas, who were almost entirely annihilated in one day by

the Guegues. He reminded them also, of the brilliant victory gained by

Passevend Oglon, Pacha of Widdin, of quite recent memory, which is

celebrated in the warlike songs of the Klephts of Roumelia.

Almost simultaneously, Ali’s sons, Mouktar and Veli, arrived at Janina.

Veli had been obliged, or thought himself obliged, to evacuate Lepanto

by superior forces, and brought only discouraging news, especially as to

the wavering fidelity of the Turks. Mouktar, on the contrary, who had

just made a tour of inspection in the Musache, had only noticed

favourable dispositions, and deluded himself with the idea that the

Chaonians, who had taken up arms, had done so in order to aid his

father. He was curiously mistaken, for these tribes hated Ali with a

hatred all the deeper for being compelled to conceal it, and were only

in arms in order to repel aggression.

The advice given by the sons to their father as to the manner of

treating the Mohammedans differed widely in accordance with their

respective opinions. Consequently a violent quarrel arose between them,

ostensibly on account of this dispute, but in reality on the subject of

their father’s inheritance, which both equally coveted. Ali had brought

all his treasure to Janina, and thenceforth neither son would leave the

neighbourhood of so excellent a father. They overwhelmed him with marks

of affection, and vowed that the one had left Lepanto, and the other

Berat, only in order to share his danger. Ali was by no means duped by

these protestations, of which he divined the motive only too well, and

though he had never loved his sons, he suffered cruelly in discovering

that he was not beloved by them.

Soon he had other troubles to endure. One of his gunners assassinated a

servant of Vela’s, and Ali ordered the murderer to be punished, but when

the sentence was to be carried out the whole corps of artillery

mutinied. In order to save appearances, the pacha was compelled to allow

them to ask for the pardon of the criminal whom he dared not punish.

This incident showed him that his authority was no longer paramount, and

he began to doubt the fidelity of his soldiers. The arrival of the

Ottoman fleet further enlightened him to his true position. Mussulman

and Christian alike, all the inhabitants of Northern Albania, who had

hitherto concealed their disaffection under an exaggerated semblance of

devotion, now hastened to make their submission to the sultan. The

Turks, continuing their success, laid siege to Parga, which was held by

Mehemet, Veli’s eldest son. He was prepared to make a good defence, but

was betrayed by his troops, who opened the gates of the town, and he was

compelled to surrender at discretion. He was handed over to the

commander of the naval forces, by whom he was well treated, being

assigned the best cabin in the admiral’s ship and given a brilliant

suite. He was assured that the sultan, whose only quarrel was with his

grandfather, would show him favour, and would even deal mercifully with

Ali, who, with his treasures, would merely be sent to an important

province in Asia Minor. He was induced to write in this strain to his

family and friends in order to induce them to lay down their arms.

The fall of Parga made a great impression on the Epirotes, who valued

its possession far above its real importance. Ali rent his garments and

cursed the days of his former good fortune, during which he had neither

known how to moderate his resentment nor to foresee the possibility of

any change of fortune.

The fall of Parga was succeeded by that of Arta of Mongliana, where was

situated Ali’s country house, and of the post of the Five Wells. Then

came a yet more overwhelming piece of news Omar Brionis, whom Ali,

having formerly despoiled of its wealth, had none the less, recently

appointed general-in-chief, had gone over to the enemy with all his

troops!

Ali then decided on carrying out a project he had formed in case of

necessity, namely, on destroying the town of Janina, which would afford

shelter to the enemy and a point of attack against the fortresses in

which he was entrenched. When this resolution was known, the inhabitants

thought only of saving themselves and their property from the ruin from

which nothing could save their country. But most of them were only

preparing to depart, when Ali gave leave to the Albanian soldiers yet

faithful to him to sack the town.

The place was immediately invaded by an unbridled soldiery. The

Metropolitan church, where Greeks and Turks alike deposited their gold,

jewels, and merchandise, even as did the Greeks of old in the temples of

the gods, became the first object of pillage. Nothing was respected. The

cupboards containing sacred vestments were broken open, so were the

tombs of the archbishops, in which were interred reliquaries adorned

with precious stones; and the altar itself was defiled with the blood of

ruffians who fought for chalices and silver crosses.

The town presented an equally terrible spectacle; neither Christians nor

Mussulmans were spared, and the women’s apartments, forcibly entered,

were given up to violence. Some of the more courageous citizens

endeavoured to defend their houses and families against these bandits,

and the clash of arms mingled with cries and groans. All at once the

roar of a terrible explosion rose above the other sounds, and a hail of

bombs, shells, grenade’s, and rockets carried devastation and fire into

the different quarters of the town, which soon presented the spectacle

of an immense conflagration. Ali, seated on the great platform of the

castle by the lake, which seemed to vomit fire like a volcano, directed

the bombardment, pointing out the places which must be burnt. Churches,

mosques, libraries, bazaars, houses, all were destroyed, and the only

thing spared by the flames was the gallows, which remained standing in

the midst of the ruins.

Of the thirty thousand persons who inhabited Janina a few hours

previously, perhaps one half had escaped. But these had not fled many

leagues before they encountered the outposts of the Ottoman army,

which, instead of helping or protecting them, fell upon them, plundered

them, and drove them towards the camp, where slavery awaited them. The

unhappy fugitives, taken thus between fire and sword, death behind and

slavery before, uttered a terrible cry, and fled in all directions.

Those who escaped the Turks were stopped in the hill passes by the

mountaineers rushing down to the rey; only large numbers who held

together could force a passage.

In some cases terror bestows extraordinary strength, there were mothers

who, with infants at the breast, covered on foot in one day the fourteen

leagues which separate Janina from Arta. But others, seized with the

pangs of travail in the midst of their flight, expired in the woods,

after giving birth to babes, who, destitute of succour, did not survive

their mothers. And young girls, having disfigured themselves by gashes,

hid themselves in caves, where they died of terror and hunger.

The Albanians, intoxicated with plunder and debauchery, refused to

return to the castle, and only thought of regaining their country and

enjoying the fruit of their rapine. But they were assailed on the way by

peasants covetous of their booty, and by those of Janina who had sought

refuge with them. The roads and passes were strewn with corpses, and the

trees by the roadside converted into gibbets. The murderers did not long

survive their victims.

The ruins of Janina were still smoking when, on the 19th August, Pacho

Bey made his entry. Having pitched his tent out of range of Ali’s

cannon, he proclaimed aloud the firman which inaugurated him as Pacha of

Janina and Delvino, and then raised the tails, emblem of his dignity.

Ali heard on the summit of his keep the acclamations of the Turks who

saluted Pacho Bey, his former servant with the titles of Vali of Epirus,

and Ghazi, of Victorius. After this ceremony, the cadi read the

sentence, confirmed by the Mufti, which declared Tepelen Veli-Zade to

have forfeited his dignities and to be excommunicated, adding an

injunction to all the faithful that henceforth his name was not to be

pronounced except with the addition of "Kara," or "black," which is

bestowed on those cut off from the congregation of Sunnites, or Orthodox

Mohammedans. A Marabout then cast a stone towards the castle, and the

anathema upon "Kara Ali" was repeated by the whole Turkish army, ending

with the cry of "Long live the sultan! So be it!"

But it was not by ecclesiastical thunders that three fortresses could be

reduced, which were defended by artillerymen drawn from different

European armies, who had established an excellent school for gunners and

bombardiers. The besieged, having replied with hootings of contempt to

the acclamations of the besiegers, proceeded to enforce their scorn with

well-aimed cannon shots, while the rebel flotilla, dressed as if for a

fete-day, passed slowly before the Turks, saluting them with cannon-shot

if they ventured near the edge of the lake.

This noisy rhodomontade did not prevent Ali from being consumed with

grief and anxiety. The sight of his own troops, now in the camp of Pacho

Bey, the fear of being for ever separated from his sons, the thought of

his grandson in the enemy’s hands, all threw him into the deepest

melancholy, and his sleepless eyes were constantly drowned in tears. He

refused his food, and sat for seven days with untrimmed beard, clad in

mourning, on a mat at the door of his antechamber, extending his hands

to his soldiers, and imploring them to slay him rather than abandon him.

His wives, seeing him in this state, and concluding all was lost, filled

the air with their lamentations. All began to think that grief would

bring Ali to the grave; but his soldiers, to whose protestations he at

first refused any credit, represented to him that their fate was

indissolubly linked with his. Pacho Bey having proclaimed that all taken

in arms for Ali would be shot as sharers in rebellion, it was therefore

their interest to support his resistance with all their power. They also

pointed out that the campaign was already advanced, and that the Turkish

army, which had forgotten its siege artillery at Constantinople, could

not possibly procure any before the end of October, by which time the

rains would begin, and the enemy would probably be short of food.

Moreover, in any case, it being impossible to winter in a ruined town,

the foe would be driven to seek shelter at a distance.

These representations, made with warmth, conviction, and supported by

evidence, began to soothe the restless fever which was wasting Ali, and

the gentle caresses and persuasions of Basillisa, the beautiful

Christian captive, who had now been his wife for some time, completed

the cure.

At the same time his sister Chainitza gave him an astonishing example of

courage. She had persisted, in spite of all that could be said, in

residing in her castle of Libokovo. The population, whom she had cruelly

oppressed, demanded her death, but no one dared attack her. Superstition

declared that the spirit of her mother, with whom she kept up a

mysterious communication even beyond the portals of the grave, watched

over her safety. The menacing form of Kamco had, it was said, appeared

to several inhabitants of Tepelen, brandishing bones of the wretched

Kardikiotes, and demanding fresh victims with loud cries. The desire of

vengeance had urged some to brave these unknown dangers, and twice, a

warrior, clothed in black, had warned them back, forbidding them to lay

hands on a sacrilegious woman; whose punishment Heaven reserved to

itself, and twice they had returned upon their footsteps.

But soon, ashamed of their terror, they attempted another attack, and

came attired in the colour of the Prophet. This time no mysterious

stranger speared to forbid their passage and with a cry they climbed the

mountain, listening for any supernatural warning. Nothing disturbed the

silence and solitude save the bleating of flocks and the cries of birds

of prey. Arrived on the platform of Libokovo, they prepared in silence

to surprise the guards, believing the castle full of them. They

approached crawling, like hunters who stalk a deer, already they had

reached the gate of the enclosure, and prepared to burst it open, when

lo! it opened of itself, and they beheld Chainitza standing before them,

a carabine in her hand, pistols in her belt, and, for all guard, two

large dogs.

"Halt! ye daring ones," she cried; "neither my life nor my treasure will

ever be at your mercy. Let one of you move a step without my permission,

and this place and the ground beneath your feet’ will engulf you. Ten

thousand pounds of powder are in these cellars. I will, however, grant

your pardon, unworthy though you are. I will even allow you to take

these sacks filled with gold; they may recompense you for the losses

which my brother’s enemies have recently inflicted on you. But depart

this instant without a word, and dare not to trouble me again; I have

other means of destruction at command besides gunpowder. Life is nothing

to me, remember that; but your mountains may yet at my command become

the tomb of your wives and children. Go!"

She ceased, and her would-be murderers fled terror.

Shortly after the plague broke out in these mountains, Chainitza had

distributed infected garments among gipsies, who scattered contagion

wherever they went.

"We are indeed of the same blood!" cried Ali with pride, when he heard

of his sister’s conduct; and from that hour he appeared to regain all

the fire and audacity of his youth. When, a few days later, he was

informed that Mouktar and Veli, seduced by the brilliant promises of

Dacha Bey, had surrendered Prevesa and Argyro-Castron, "It does not

surprise me," he observed coldly. "I have long known them to be unworthy

of being my sons, and henceforth my only children and heirs are those

who defend my cause." And on hearing a report that both had been

beheaded by Dacha Bey’s order, he contented himself with saying, "They

betrayed their father, and have only received their deserts; speak no

more of them." And to show how little it discouraged him, he redoubled

his fire upon the Turks.

But the latter, who had at length obtained some artillery, answered his

fire with vigour, and began to rally to discrown the old pacha’s

fortress. Feeling that the danger was pressing, Ali redoubled both his

prudence and activity. His immense treasures were the real reason of the

war waged against him, and these might induce his own soldiers to rebel,

in order to become masters of them. He resolved to protect them from

either surprise or conquest. The sum necessary for present use was

deposited in the powder magazine, so that, if driven to extremity, it

might be destroyed in a moment; the remainder was enclosed in

strong-boxes, and sunk in different parts of the lake. This labour

lasted a fortnight, when, finally, Ali put to death the gipsies who had

been employed about it, in order that the secret might remain with

himself.

While he thus set his own affairs in order, he applied himself to the

troubling those of his adversary. A great number of Suliots had joined

the Ottoman army in order to assist in the destruction of him who

formerly had ruined their country. Their camp, which for a long time had

enjoyed immunity from the guns of Janina, was one day overwhelmed with

bombs. The Suliots were terrified, until they remarked that the bombs

did not burst. They then, much astonished, proceeded to pick up and

examine these projectiles. Instead of a match, they found rolls of paper

enclosed in a wooden cylinder, on which was engraved these words, "Open

carefully." The paper contained a truly Macchiavellian letter from Ali,

which began by saying that they were quite justified in having taken up

arms against him, and added that he now sent them a part of the pay of

which the traitorous Ismail was defrauding them, and that the bombs

thrown into their cantonment contained six thousand sequins in gold. He

begged them to amuse Ismail by complaints and recriminations, while his

gondola should by night fetch one of them, to whom he would communicate

what more he had to say. If they accepted his proposition, they were to

light three fires as a signal.

The signal was not long in appearing. Ali despatched his barge, which

took on board a monk, the spiritual chief of the Suliots. He was clothed

in sackcloth, and repeated the prayers for the dying, as one going to

execution. Ali, however, received him with the utmost cordiality: He

assured the priest of his repentance, his good intentions, his esteem

for the Greek captains, and then gave him a paper which startled him

considerably. It was a despatch, intercepted by Ali, from Khalid Effendi

to the Seraskier Ismail, ordering the latter to exterminate all

Christians capable of bearing arms. All male children were to be

circumcised, and brought up to form a legion drilled in European

fashion; and the letter went on to explain how the Suliots, the

Armatolis, the Greek races of the mainland and those of the Archipelago

should be disposed of. Seeing the effect produced on the monk by the

perusal of this paper, Ali hastened to make him the most advantageous

offers, declaring that his own wish was to give Greece a political

existence, and only requiring that the Suliot captains should send him a

certain number of their children as hostages. He then had cloaks and

arms brought which he presented to the monk, dismissing him in haste, in

order that darkness might favour his return.

The next day Ali was resting, with his head on Basilissa’s lap, when he

was informed that the enemy was advancing upon the intrenchments which

had been raised in the midst of the ruins of Janina. Already the

outposts had been forced, and the fury of the assailants threatened to

triumph over all obstacles. Ali immediately ordered a sortie of all his

troops, announcing that he himself would conduct it. His master of the

horse brought him the famous Arab charger called the Dervish, his chief

huntsman presented him with his guns, weapons still famous in Epirus,

where they figure in the ballads of the Skipetars. The first was an

enormous gun, of Versailles manufacture, formerly presented by the

conqueror of the Pyramids to Djezzar, the Pacha of St. Jean-d’Arc, who

amused himself by enclosing living victims in the walls of his palace,

in order that he might hear their groans in the midst of his

festivities. Next came a carabine given to the Pacha of Janina in the

name of Napoleon in 1806; then the battle musket of Charles XII of

Sweden, and finally— the much revered sabre of Krim-Guerai. The signal

was given; the draw bridge crossed; the Guegues and other adventurers

uttered a terrific shout; to which the cries of the assailants replied.

Ali placed himself on a height, whence his eagle eye sought to discern

the hostile chiefs; but he called and defied Pacho Bey in vain.

Perceiving Hassan-Stamboul, colonel of the Imperial bombardiers outside

his battery, Ali demanded the gun of Djezzar, and laid him dead on the

spot. He then took the carabine of Napoleon, and shot with it Kekriman,

Bey of Sponga, whom he had formerly appointed Pacha of Lepanto. The

enemy now became aware of his presence, and sent a lively fusillade in

his direction; but the balls seemed to diverge from his person. As soon

as the smoke cleared, he perceived Capelan, Pacha of Croie, who had been

his guest, and wounded him mortally in the chest. Capelan uttered a

sharp cry, and his terrified horse caused disorder in the ranks. Ali

picked off a large number of officers, one after another; every shot was

mortal, and his enemies began to regard him in, the light of a

destroying angel. Disorder spread through the forces of the Seraskier,

who retreated hastily to his intrenchments.

The Suliots meanwhile sent a deputation to Ismail offering their

submission, and seeking to regain their country in a peaceful manner;

but, being received by him with the most humiliating contempt, they

resolved to make common cause with Ali. They hesitated over the demand

for hostages, and at length required Ali’s grandson, Hussien Pacha, in

exchange. After many difficulties, Ali at length consented, and the

agreement was concluded. The Suliots received five hundred thousand

piastres and a hundred and fifty charges of ammunition, Hussien Pacha

was given up to them, and they left the Ottoman camp at dead of night.

Morco Botzaris remained with three hundred and twenty men, threw down

the palisades, and then ascending Mount Paktoras with his troops, waited

for dawn in order to announce his defection to the Turkish army. As soon

as the sun appeared he ordered a general salvo of artillery and shouted

his war-cry. A few Turks in charge of an outpost were slain, the rest

fled. A cry of "To arms" was raised, and the standard of the Cross

floated before the camp of the infidels.

Signs and omens of a coming general insurrection appeared on all sides;

there was no lack of prodigies, visions, or popular rumours, and the

Mohammedans became possessed with the idea that the last hour of their

rule in Greece had struck. Ali Pacha favoured the general

demoralisation; and his agents, scattered throughout the land, fanned

the flame of revolt. Ismail Pacha was deprived of his title of

Seraskier, and superseded by Kursheed Pacha. As soon as Ali heard this,

he sent a messenger to Kursheed, hoping to influence him in his favour.

Ismail, distrusting the Skipetars, who formed part of his troops,

demanded hostages from them. The Skipetars were indignant, and Ali

hearing of their discontent, wrote inviting them to return to him, and

endeavouring to dazzle them by the most brilliant promises. These

overtures were received by the offended troops with enthusiasm, and

Alexis Noutza, Ali’s former general, who had forsaken him for Ismail,

but who had secretly returned to his allegiance and acted as a spy on

the Imperial army, was deputed to treat with him. As soon as he arrived,

Ali began to enact a comedy in the intention of rebutting the accusation

of incest with his daughter-in-law Zobeide; for this charge, which,

since Veli himself had revealed the secret of their common shame, could

only be met by vague denials, had never ceased to produce a most

unfavourable impression on Noutza’s mind. Scarcely had he entered the

castle by the lake, when Ali rushed to meet him, and flung himself into

his arms. In presence of his officers and the garrison, he loaded him

with the most tender names, calling him his son, his beloved Alexis, his

own legitimate child, even as Salik Pacha. He burst into tears, and,

with terrible oaths, called Heaven to witness that Mouktar and Veli,

whom he disavowed on account of their cowardice, were the adulterous

offspring of Emineh’s amours. Then, raising his hand against the tomb of

her whom he had loved so much, he drew the stupefied Noutza into the

recess of a casemate, and sending for Basilissa, presented him to her as

a beloved son, whom only political considerations had compelled him to

keep at a distance, because, being born of a Christian mother, he had

been brought up in the faith of Jesus.

Having thus softened the suspicions of his soldiers, Ali resumed his

underground intrigues. The Suliots had informed him that the sultan had

made them extremely advantageous offers if they would return to his

service, and they demanded pressingly that Ali should give up to them

the citadel of Kiapha, which was still in his possession, and which

commanded Suli. He replied with the information that he intended,

January 26, to attack the camp of Pacho Bey early in the morning, and

requested their assistance. In order to cause a diversion, they were to

descend into the valley of Janina at night, and occupy a position which

he pointed out to them, and he gave them the word "flouri" as password

for the night. If successful, he undertook to grant their request.

Ali’s letter was intercepted, and fell into Ismail’s hands, who

immediately conceived a plan for snaring his enemy in his own toils.

When the night fixed by Ali arrived, the Seraskier marched out a strong

division under the command of Omar Brionis, who had been recently

appointed Pacha, and who was instructed to proceed along the western

slope of Mount Paktoras as far as the village of Besdoune, where he was

to place an outpost, and then to retire along the other side of the

mountain, so that, being visible in the starlight, the sentinels placed

to watch on the hostile towers might take his men for the Suliots and

report to Ali that the position of Saint-Nicolas, assigned to them, had

been occupied as arranged. All preparations for battle were made, and

the two mortal enemies, Ismail and Ali, retired to rest, each cherishing

the darling hope of shortly annihilating his rival.

At break of day a lively cannonade, proceeding from the castle of the

lake and from Lithoritza, announced that the besieged intended a sortie.

Soon Ali’s Skipetars, preceded by a detachment of French, Italians, and

Swiss, rushed through the Ottoman fire and carried the first redoubt,

held by Ibrahim-Aga-Stamboul. They found six pieces of cannon, which the

Turks, notwithstanding their terror, had had time to spike. This

misadventure, for they had hoped to turn the artillery against the

intrenched camp, decided Ali’s men on attacking the second redoubt,

commanded by the chief bombardier. The Asiatic troops of Baltadgi Pacha

rushed to its defence. At their head appeared the chief Imaun of the

army, mounted on a richly caparisoned mule and repeating the curse

fulminated by the mufti against Ali, his adherents, his castles, and

even his cannons, which it was supposed might be rendered harmless by

these adjurations. Ali’s Mohammedan Skipetars averted their eyes, and

spat into their bosoms, hoping thus to escape the evil influence. A

superstitious terror was beginning to spread among them, when a French

adventurer took aim at the Imaun and brought him down, amid the

acclamations of the soldiers; whereupon the Asiatics, imagining that

Eblis himself fought against them, retired within the intrenchments,

whither the Skipetars, no longer fearing the curse, pursued them

vigorously.

At the same time, however, a very different action was proceeding at the

northern end of the besiegers’ intrenchments. Ali left his castle of the

lake, preceded by twelve torch-bearers carrying braziers filled with

lighted pitch-wood, and advanced towards the shore of Saint-Nicolas,

expecting to unite with the Suliots. He stopped in the middle of the

ruins to wait for sunrise, and while there heard that his troops had

carried the battery of Ibrahim-Aga-Stamboul. Overjoyed, he ordered them

to press on to the second intrenchment, promising that in an hour, when

he should have been joined by the Suliots, he would support them, and he

then pushed forward, preceded by two field-pieces with their waggons,

and followed by fifteen hundred men, as far as a large plateau on which

he perceived at a little distance an encampment which he supposed to be

that of the Suliots. He then ordered the Mirdite prince, Kyr Lekos, to

advance with an escort of twenty-five men, and when within hearing

distance to wave a blue flag and call out the password. An Imperial

officer replied with the countersign "flouri," and Lekos immediately

sent back word to Ali to advance. His orderly hastened back, and the

prince entered the camp, where he and his escort were immediately

surrounded and slain.

On receiving the message, Ali began to advance, but cautiously, being

uneasy at seeing no signs of the Mirdite troop. Suddenly, furious cries,

and a lively fusillade, proceeding from the vineyards and thickets,

announced that he had fallen into a trap, and at the same moment Omar

Pacha fell upon his advance guard, which broke, crying "Treason!".

Ali sabred the fugitives mercilessly, but fear carried them away, and,

forced to follow the crowd, he perceived the Kersales and Baltadgi Pacha

descending the side of Mount Paktoras, intending to cut off his retreat.

He attempted another route, hastening towards the road to Dgeleva, but

found it held by the Tapagetae under the Bimbashi Aslon of

Argyro-Castron. He was surrounded, all seemed lost, and feeling that his

last hour had come, he thought only of selling his life as dearly as

possible. Collecting his bravest soldiers round him, he prepared for a

last rush on Omar Pacha; when, suddenly, with an inspiration born of

despair, he ordered his ammunition waggons to be blown up. The Kersales,

who were about to seize them, vanished in the explosion, which scattered

a hail of stones and debris far and wide. Under cover of the smoke and

general confusion, Ali succeeded in withdrawing his men to the shelter

of the guns of his castle of Litharitza, where he continued the fight in

order to give time to the fugitives to rally, and to give the support he

had promised to those fighting on the other slope; who, in the meantime,

had carried the second battery and were attacking the fortified camp.

Here the Seraskier Ismail met them with a resistance so well managed,

that he was able to conceal the attack he was preparing to make on their

rear. Ali, guessing that the object of Ismail’s manoeuvres was to crush

those whom he had promised to help, and unable, on account of the

distance, either to support or to warn them, endeavoured to impede Omar

Pasha, hoping still that his Skipetars might either see or hear him. He

encouraged the fugitives, who recognised him from afar by his scarlet

dolman, by the dazzling whiteness of his horse, and by the terrible

cries which he uttered; for, in the heat of battle, this extraordinary

man appeared to have regained the vigour and audacity, of his youth.

Twenty times he led his soldiers to the charge, and as often was forced

to recoil towards his castles. He brought up his reserves, but in vain.

Fate had declared against him. His troops which were attacking the

intrenched camp found themselves taken between two fires, and he could

not help them. Foaming with passion, he threatened to rush singly into

the midst of his enemies. His officers besought him to calm himself,

and, receiving only refusals, at last threatened to lay hands upon him

if he persisted in exposing himself like a private soldier. Subdued by

this unaccustomed opposition, Ali allowed himself to be forced back into

the castle by the lake, while his soldiers dispersed in various

directions.

But even this defeat did not discourage the fierce pasha. Reduced to

extremity, he yet entertained the hope of shaking the Ottoman Empire,

and from the recesses of his fortress he agitated the whole of Greece.

The insurrection which he had stirred up, without foreseeing what the

results might be, was spreading with the rapidity of a lighted train of

powder, and the Mohammedans were beginning to tremble, when at length

Kursheed Pasha, having crossed the Pindus at the head of an army of

eighty thousand men, arrived before Janina.

His tent had hardly been pitched, when Ali caused a salute of twenty-one

guns to be fired in his honour, and sent a messenger, bearing a letter

of congratulation on his safe arrival. This letter, artful and

insinuating, was calculated to make a deep impression on Kursheed. Ali

wrote that, being driven by the infamous lies of a former servant,

called Pacho Bey, into resisting, not indeed the authority of the

sultan, before whom he humbly bent his head weighed down with years and

grief, but the perfidious plots of His Highness’s advisers, he

considered himself happy in his misfortunes to have dealings with a

vizier noted for his lofty qualities. He then added that these rare

merits had doubtless been very far from being estimated at their proper

value by a Divan in which men were only classed in accordance with the

sums they laid out in gratifying the rapacity of the ministers.

Otherwise, how came it about that Kursheed Pasha, Viceroy of Egypt—after

the departure of the French, the conqueror of the Mamelukes, was only

rewarded for these services by being recalled without a reason? Having

been twice Romili-Valicy, why, when he should have enjoyed the reward of

his labours, was he relegated to the obscure post of Salonica? And, when

appointed Grand Vizier and sent to pacify Servia, instead of being

entrusted with the government of this kingdom which he had reconquered

for the sultan, why was he hastily despatched to Aleppo to repress a

trifling sedition of emirs and janissaries? Now, scarcely arrived in the

Morea, his powerful arm was to be employed against an aged man.

Ali then plunged into details, related the pillaging, avarice, and

imperious dealing of Pacho Bey, as well as of the pachas subordinate to

him; how they had alienated the public mind, how they had succeeded in

offending the Armatolis, and especially the Suliots, who might be

brought back to their duty with less trouble than these imprudent chiefs

had taken to estrange them. He gave a mass of special information on

this subject, and explained that in advising the Suliots to retire to

their mountains he had really only put them in a false position as long

as he retained possession of the fort of Kiapha, which is the key of the

Selleide.

The Seraskier replied in a friendly manner, ordered the military salute

to be returned in Ali’s honour, shot for shot, and forbade that

henceforth a person of the valour and intrepidity of the Lion of Tepelen

should be described by the epithet of "excommunicated." He also spoke of

him by his title of "vizier," which he declared he had never forfeited

the right to use; and he also stated that he had only entered Epirus as

a peace-maker. Kursheed’s emissaries had just seized some letters sent

by Prince Alexander Ypsilanti to the Greek captains at Epirus. Without

going into details of the events which led to the Greek insurrection,

the prince advised the Polemarchs, chiefs of the Selleid, to aid Ali

Pacha in his revolt against the Porte, but to so arrange matters that

they could easily detach themselves again, their only aim being to seize

his treasures, which might be used to procure the freedom of Greece.

These letters a messenger from Kursheed delivered to Ali. They produced

such an impression upon his mind that he secretly resolved only to make

use of the Greeks, and to sacrifice them to his own designs, if he could

not inflict a terrible vengeance on their perfidy. He heard from the

messenger at the same time of the agitation in European Turkey, the

hopes of the Christians, and the apprehension of a rupture between the

Porte and Russia. It was necessary to lay aside vain resentment and to

unite against these threatening dangers. Kursheed Pacha was, said his

messenger, ready to consider favourably any propositions likely to lead

to a prompt pacification, and would value such a result far more highly

than the glory of subduing by means of the imposing force at his

command, a valiant prince whom he had always regarded as one of the

strongest bulwarks of the Ottoman Empire. This information produced a

different effect upon Ali to that intended by the Seraskier. Passing

suddenly from the depth of despondency to the height of pride, he

imagined that these overtures of reconciliation were only a proof of the

inability of his foes to subdue him, and he sent the following

propositions to Kursheed Pacha:

"If the first duty of a prince is to do justice, that of his subjects is

to remain faithful, and obey him in all things. From this principle we

derive that of rewards and punishments, and although my services might

sufficiently justify my conduct to all time, I nevertheless acknowledge

that I have deserved the wrath of the sultan, since he has raised the

arm of his anger against the head of his slave. Having humbly implored

his pardon, I fear not to invoke his severity towards those who have

abused his confidence. With this object I offer—First, to pay the

expenses of the war and the tribute in arrears due from my Government

without delay. Secondly, as it is important for the sake of example that

the treason of an inferior towards his superior should receive fitting

chastisement, I demand that Pacho Bey, formerly in my service, should be

beheaded, he being the real rebel, and the cause of the public

calamities which are afflicting the faithful of Islam. Thirdly, I

require that for the rest of my life I shall retain, without annual

re-investiture, my pachalik of Janina, the coast of Epirus, Acarnania

and its dependencies, subject to the rights, charges and tribute due now

and hereafter to the sultan. Fourthly, I demand amnesty and oblivion of

the past for all those who have served me until now. And if these

conditions are not accepted without modifications, I am prepared to

defend myself to the last.

"Given at the castle of Janina, March 7, 1821."

CHAPTER X

This mixture of arrogance and submission only merited indignation, but

it suited Kursheed to dissemble. He replied that, assenting to such

propositions being beyond his powers, he would transmit them to

Constantinople, and that hostilities might be suspended, if Ali wished,

until the courier, could return.

Being quite as cunning as Ali himself, Kursheed profited by the truce to

carry on intrigues against him. He corrupted one of the chiefs of the

garrison, Metzo-Abbas by name, who obtained pardon for himself and fifty

followers, with permission to return to their homes. But this clemency

appeared to have seduced also four hundred Skipetars who made use of the

amnesty and the money with which Ali provided them, to raise Toxis and

the Tapygetae in the latter’s favour. Thus the Seraskier’s scheme turned

against himself, and he perceived he had been deceived by Ali’s seeming

apathy, which certainly did not mean dread of defection. In fact, no man

worth anything could have abandoned him, supported as he seemed to be by

almost supernatural courage. Suffering from a violent attack of gout, a

malady he had never before experienced, the pacha, at the age of

eighty-one, was daily carried to the most exposed place on the ramparts

of his castle. There, facing the hostile batteries, he gave audience to

whoever wished to see him. On this exposed platform he held his

councils, despatched orders, and indicated to what points his guns

should be directed. Illumined by the flashes of fire, his figure assumed

fantastic and weird shapes. The balls sung in the air, the bullets

hailed around him, the noise drew blood from the ears of those with him.

Calm and immovable, he gave signals to the soldiers who were still

occupying part of the ruins of Janina, and encouraged them by voice and

gesture. Observing the enemy’s movements by the help of a telescope, he

improvised means of counteracting them. Sometimes he amused himself by,

greeting curious persons and new-comers after a fashion of his own. Thus

the chancellor of the French Consul at Prevesa, sent as an envoy to

Kursheed Pacha, had scarcely entered the lodging assigned to him, when

he was visited by a bomb which caused him to leave it again with all

haste. This greeting was due to Ali’s chief engineer, Caretto, who next

day sent a whole shower of balls and shells into the midst of a group of

Frenchmen, whose curiosity had brought them to Tika, where Kursheed was

forming a battery. "It is time," said Ali, "that these contemptible

gossip-mongers should find listening at doors may become uncomfortable.

I have furnished matter enough for them to talk about. Frangistan

(Christendom) shall henceforth hear only of my triumph or my fall, which

will leave it considerable trouble to pacify." Then, after a moment’s

silence, he ordered the public criers to inform his soldiers of the

insurrections in Wallachia and the Morea, which news, proclaimed from

the ramparts, and spreading immediately in the Imperial camp, caused

there much dejection.

The Greeks were now everywhere proclaiming their independence, and

Kursheed found himself unexpectedly surrounded by enemies. His position

threatened to become worse if the siege of Janina dragged on much

longer. He seized the island in the middle of the lake, and threw up

redoubts upon it, whence he kept up an incessant fire on the southern

front of the castle of Litharitza, and a practicable trench of nearly

forty feet having been made, an assault was decided on. The troops

marched out boldly, and performed prodigies of valour; but at the end of

an hour, Ali, carried on a litter because of his gout, having led a

sortie, the besiegers were compelled to give way and retire to their

intrenchments, leaving three hundred dead at the foot of the rampart.

"The Pindian bear is yet alive," said Ali in a message to Kursheed;

"thou mayest take thy dead and bury them; I give them up without ransom,

and as I shall always do when thou attackest me as a brave man ought."

Then, having entered his fortress amid the acclamations of his soldiers,

he remarked on hearing of the general rising of Greece and the

Archipelago, "It is enough! two men have ruined Turkey!" He then

remained silent, and vouchsafed no explanation of this prophetic

sentence.

Ali did not on this occasion manifest his usual delight on having gained

a success. As soon as he was alone with Basilissa, he informed her with

tears of the death of Chainitza. A sudden apoplexy had stricken this

beloved sister, the life of his councils, in her palace of Libokovo,

where she remained undisturbed until her death. She owed this special

favour to her riches and to the intercession of her nephew, Djiladin

Pacha of Ochcrida, who was reserved by fate to perform the funeral

obsequies of the guilty race of Tepelen.

A few months afterwards, Ibrahim Pacha of Berat died of poison, being

the last victim whom Chainitza had demanded from her brother.

Ali’s position was becoming daily more difficult, when the time of

Ramadan arrived, during which the Turks relax hostilities, and a species

of truce ensued. Ali himself appeared to respect the old popular

customs, and allowed his Mohammedan soldiers to visit the enemy’s

outposts and confer on the subject of various religious ceremonies.

Discipline was relaxed in Kursheed’s camp, and Ali profited thereby to

ascertain the smallest details of all that passed.

He learned from his spies that the general’s staff, counting on the

"Truce of God," a tacit suspension of all hostilities during the feast

of Bairam, the Mohammedan Easter, intended to repair to the chief

mosque, in the quarter of Loutcha. This building, spared by the bombs,

had until now been respected by both sides. Ali, according to reports

spread by himself, was supposed to be ill, weakened by fasting, and

terrified into a renewal of devotion, and not likely to give trouble on

so sacred a day. Nevertheless he ordered Caretto to turn thirty guns

against the mosque, cannon, mortars and howitzers, intending, he said,

to solemnise Bairam by discharges of artillery. As soon as he was sure

that the whole of the staff had entered the mosque, he gave the signal.

Instantly, from the assembled thirty pieces, there issued a storm of

shells, grenades and cannon-balls. With a terrific noise, the mosque

crumbled together, amid the cries of pain and rage of the crowd inside

crushed in the ruins. At the end of a quarter of an hour the wind

dispersed the smoke, and disclosed a burning crater, with the large

cypresses which surrounded the building blazing as if they had been

torches lighted for the funeral ceremonies of sixty captains and two

hundred soldiers.

"Ali Pacha is yet alive!" cried the old Homeric hero of Janina, leaping

with joy; and his words, passing from mouth to mouth, spread yet more

terror amid Kursheed’s soldiers, already overwhelmed by the horrible

spectacle passing before their eyes.

Almost on the same day, Ali from the height of his keep beheld the

standard of the Cross waving in the distance. The rebellious Greeks were

bent on attacking Kursheed. The insurrection promoted by the Vizier of

Janina had passed far beyond the point he intended, and the rising had

become a revolution. The delight which Ali first evinced cooled rapidly

before this consideration, and was extinguished in grief when he found

that a conflagration, caused by the besiegers’ fire, had consumed part

of his store in the castle by the lake. Kursheed, thinking that this

event must have shaken the old lion’s resolution, recommenced

negotiations, choosing the Kiaia of Moustai Pacha: as an envoy, who gave

Ali a remarkable warning. "Reflect," said he, "that these rebels bear

the sign of the Cross on their standards. You are now only an instrument

in their hands. Beware lest you become the victim of their policy." Ali

understood the danger, and had the sultan been better advised, he would

have pardoned Ali on condition of again bringing Hellos under his iron

yoke. It is possible that the Greeks might not have prevailed against an

enemy so formidable and a brain so fertile in intrigue. But so simple an

idea was far beyond the united intellect of the Divan, which never rose

above idle display. As soon as these negotiations, had commenced,

Kursheed filled the roads with his couriers, sending often two in a day

to Constantinople, from whence as many were sent to him. This state of

things lasted more than three weeks, when it became known that Ali, who

had made good use of his time in replacing the stores lost in the

conflagration, buying actually from the Kiaia himself a part of the

provisions brought by him for the Imperial camp, refused to accept the

Ottoman ultimatum. Troubles which broke, out at the moment of the

rupture of the negotiations proved that he foresaw the probable result.

Kursheed was recompensed for the deception by which he had been duped by

the reduction of the fortress of Litharitza. The Guegue Skipetars, who

composed the garrison, badly paid, wearied out by the long siege, and

won by the Seraskier’s bribes, took advantage of the fact that the time

of their engagement with Ali had elapsed some months previously, and

delivering up the fortress they defended, passed over to the enemy.

Henceforth Ali’s force consisted of only six hundred men.

It was to be feared that this handful of men might also become a prey to

discouragement, and might surrender their chief to an enemy who had

received all fugitives with kindness. The Greek insurgents dreaded such

an event, which would have turned all Kursheed’s army, hitherto detained

before the castle, of Janina, loose upon themselves. Therefore they

hastened to send to their former enemy, now their ally, assistance which

he declined to accept. Ali saw himself surrounded by enemies thirsting

for his wealth, and his avarice increasing with the danger, he had for

some months past refused to pay his defenders. He contented himself with

informing his captains of the insurgents’ offer, and telling them that

he was confident that bravery such as theirs required no reinforcement.

And when some of them besought him to at least receive two or three

hundred Palikars into the castle, "No," said he; "old serpents always

remain old serpents: I distrust the Suliots and their friendship."

Ignorant of Ali’s decision, the Greeks of the Selleid were advancing, as

well as the Toxidae, towards Janina, when they received the following

letter from Ali Pacha:

"My well-beloved children, I have just learned that you are preparing to

despatch a party of your Palikars against our common enemy, Kursheed. I

desire to inform you that this my fortress is impregnable, and that I

can hold out against him for several years. The only, service I require

of your courage is, that you should reduce Arta, and take alive Ismail

Pacho Bey, my former servant, the mortal enemy of my family, and the

author of the evils and frightful calamities which have so long

oppressed our unhappy country, which he has laid waste before our eyes.

Use your best efforts to accomplish this, it will strike at the root of

the evil, and my treasures shall reward your Palikars, whose courage

every day gains a higher value in my eyes."

Furious at this mystification, the Suliots retired to their mountains,

and Kursheed profited by the discontent Ali’s conduct had caused, to win

over the Toxide Skipetars, with their commanders Tahir Abbas and Hagi

Bessiaris, who only made two conditions: one, that Ismail Pacho Bey,

their personal enemy, should be deposed; the other, that the life of

their old vizier should be respected.

The first condition was faithfully adhered to by Kursheed, actuated by

private motives different from those which he gave publicly, and Ismail

Pacho Bey was solemnly deposed. The tails, emblems of his authority,

were removed; he resigned the plumes of office; his soldiers forsook

him, his servants followed suit. Fallen to the lowest rank, he was soon

thrown into prison, where he only blamed Fate for his misfortunes. All

the Skipetar Agas hastened to place themselves under Kursheeds’

standard, and enormous forces now threatened Janina. All Epirus awaited

the denoument with anxiety.

Had he been less avaricious, Ali might have enlisted all the adventurers

with whom the East was swarming, and made the sultan tremble in his

capital. But the aged pacha clung passionately to his treasures. He

feared also, perhaps not unreasonably, that those by whose aid he might

triumph would some day become his master. He long deceived himself with

the idea that the English, who had sold Parga to him, would never allow

a Turkish fleet to enter the Ionian Sea. Mistaken on this point, his

foresight was equally at fault with regard to the cowardice of his sons.

The defection of his troops was not less fatal, and he only understood

the bearing of the Greek insurrection which he himself had provoked, so

far as to see that in this struggle he was merely an instrument in

procuring the freedom of a country which he had too cruelly oppressed to

be able to hold even an inferior rank in it. His last letter to the

Suliots opened the eyes of his followers, but under the influence of a

sort of polite modesty these were at least anxious to stipulate for the

life of their vizier. Kursheed was obliged to produce firmans from the

Porte, declaring that if Ali Tepelen submitted, the royal promise given

to his sons should be kept, and that he should, with them, be

transferred to Asia Minor, as also his harem, his servants; and his

treasures, and allowed to finish his days in peace. Letters from Ali’s

sons were shown to the Agas, testifying to the good treatment they had

experienced in their exile; and whether the latter believed all this, or

whether they merely sought to satisfy their own consciences, they

henceforth thought only of inducing their rebellious chief to submit.

Finally, eight months’ pay, given them in advance, proved decisive, and

they frankly embraced the cause of the sultan.

The garrison of the castle on the lake, whom Ali seemed anxious to

offend as much as possible, by refusing their pay, he thinking them so

compromised that they would not venture even to accept an amnesty

guaranteed by the mufti, began to desert as soon as they knew the

Toxidae had arrived at the Imperial camp. Every night these Skipetars

who could cross the moat betook themselves to Kursheed’s quarters. One

single man yet baffled all the efforts of the besiegers. The chief

engineer, Caretto, like another Archimedes, still carried terror into

the midst of their camp.

Although reduced to the direst misery, Caretto could not forget that he

owed his life to the master who now only repaid his services with the

most sordid ingratitude. When he had first come to Epirus, Ali,

recognising his ability, became anxious to retain him, but without

incurring any expense. He ascertained that the Neapolitan was

passionately in love with a Mohammedan girl named Nekibi, who returned

his affection. Acting under Ali’s orders, Tahir Abbas accused the woman

before the cadi of sacrilegious intercourse with an infidel. She could

only escape death by the apostasy of her lover; if he refused to deny

his God, he shared her fate, and both would perish at the stake. Caretto

refused to renounce his religion, but only Nekibi suffered death.

Caretto was withdrawn from execution, and Ali kept him concealed in a

place of safety, whence he produced him in the time of need. No one had

served him with greater zeal; it is even possible that a man of this

type would have died at his post, had his cup not been filled with

mortification and insult.

Eluding the vigilance of Athanasius Vaya, whose charge it was to keep

guard over him, Caretto let himself down by a cord fastened to the end

of a cannon: He fell at the foot of the rampart, and thence dragged

himself, with a broken arm, to the opposite camp. He had become nearly

blind through the explosion of a cartridge which had burnt his face. He

was received as well as a Christian from whom there was now nothing to

fear, could expect. He received the bread of charity, and as a refugee

is only valued in proportion to the use which can be made of him, he was

despised and forgotten.

The desertion of Caretto was soon followed by a defection which

annihilated Ali’s last hopes. The garrison which had given him so many

proofs of devotion, discouraged by his avarice, suffering from a

disastrous epidemic, and no longer equal to the necessary labour in

defence of the place, opened all, the gates simultaneously to the enemy.

But the besiegers, fearing a trap, advanced very slowly; so that Ali,

who had long prepared against every sort of surprise, had time to gain a

place which he called his "refuge."

It was a sort of fortified enclosure, of solid masonry, bristling with

cannon, which surrounded the private apartments of his seraglio, called

the "Women’s Tower." He had taken care to demolish everything which

could be set on fire, reserving only a mosque and the tomb of his wife

Emineh, whose phantom, after announcing an eternal repose, had ceased to

haunt him. Beneath was an immense natural cave, in which he had stored

ammunition, precious articles, provisions, and the treasures which had

not been sunk in the lake. In this cave an apartment had been made for

Basilissa and his harem, also a shelter in which he retired to sleep

when exhausted with fatigue. This place was his last resort, a kind of

mausoleum; and he did not seem distressed at beholding the castle in the

hands of his enemies. He calmly allowed them to occupy the entrance,

deliver their hostages, overrun the ramparts, count the cannon which

were on the platforms, crumbling from the hostile shells; but when they

came within hearing, he demanded by one of his servants that Kursheed

should send him an envoy of distinction; meanwhile he forbade anyone to

pass beyond a certain place which he pointed out.

Kursheed, imagining that, being in the last extremity, he would

capitulate, sent out Tahir Abbas and Hagi Bessiaris. Ali listened

without reproaching them for their treachery, but simply observed that

he wished to meet some of the chief officers.

The Seraskier then deputed his keeper of the wardrobe, accompanied by

his keeper of the seals and other persons of quality. Ali received them

with all ceremony, and, after the usual compliments had been exchanged,

invited them to descend with him into the cavern. There he showed them

more than two thousand barrels of powder carefully arranged beneath his

treasures, his remaining provisions, and a number of valuable objects

which adorned this slumbering volcano. He showed them also his bedroom,

a sort of cell richly furnished, and close to the powder. It could be

reached only by means of three doors, the secret of which was known to

no one but himself. Alongside of this was the harem, and in the

neighbouring mosque was quartered his garrison, consisting of fifty men,

all ready to bury themselves under the ruins of this fortification, the

only spot remaining to him of all Greece, which had formerly bent

beneath his authority.

After this exhibition, Ali presented one of his most devoted followers

to the envoys. Selim, who watched over the fire, was a youth in

appearance as gentle as his heart was intrepid, and his special duty was

to be in readiness to blow up the whole place at any moment. The pacha

gave him his hand to kiss, inquiring if he were ready to die, to which

he only responded by pressing his master’s hand fervently to his lips.

He never took his eyes off Ali, and the lantern, near which a match was

constantly smoking, was entrusted only to him and to Ali, who took turns

with him in watching it. Ali drew a pistol from his belt, making as if

to turn it towards the powder magazine, and the envoys fell at his feet,

uttering involuntary cries of terror. He smiled at their fears, and

assured them that, being wearied of the weight of his weapons, he had

only intended to relieve himself of some of them. He then begged them to

seat themselves, and added that he should like even a more terrible

funeral than that which they had just ascribed to him. "I do not wish to

drag down with me," he exclaimed, "those who have come to visit me as

friends; it is Kursheed, whom I have long regarded as my brother, his

chiefs, those who have betrayed me, his whole army in short, whom I

desire to follow me to the tomb—a sacrifice which will be worthy of my

renown, and of the brilliant end to which I aspire."

The envoys gazed at him with stupefaction, which did not diminish when

Ali further informed them that they were not only sitting over the arch

of a casemate filled with two hundred thousand pounds of powder, but

that the whole castle, which they had so rashly occupied, was

undermined. "The rest you have seen," he said, "but of this you could

not be aware. My riches are the sole cause of the war which has been

made against me, and in one moment I can destroy them. Life is nothing

to me, I might have ended it among the Greeks, but could I, a powerless

old man, resolve to live on terms of equality among those whose absolute

master I have been? Thus, whichever way I look, my career is ended.

However, I am attached to those who still surround me, so hear my last

resolve. Let a pardon, sealed by the sultan’s hands, be given me, and I

will submit. I will go to Constantinople, to Asia Minor, or wherever I

am sent. The things I should see here would no longer be fitting for me

to behold."

To this Kursheed’s envoys made answer that without doubt these terms

would be conceded. Ali then touched his breast and forehead, and,

drawing forth his watch, presented it to the keeper of the wardrobe. "I

mean what I say, my friend," he observed; "my word will be kept. If

within an hour thy soldiers are not withdrawn from this castle which has

been treacherously yielded to them, I will blow it up. Return to the

Seraskier, warn him that if he allows one minute more to elapse than the

time specified, his army, his garrison, I myself and my family, will all

perish together: two hundred thousand pounds of powder can destroy all

that surrounds us. Take this watch, I give it thee, and forget not that

I am a man of my word." Then, dismissing the messengers, he saluted them

graciously, observing that he did not expect an answer until the

soldiers should have evacuated the castle.

The envoys had barely returned to the camp when Kursheed sent orders to

abandon the fortress. As the reason for this step could not be

concealed, everyone, exaggerating the danger, imagined deadly mines

ready to be fired everywhere, and the whole army clamoured to break up

the camp. Thus Ali and his fifty followers cast terror into the hearts

of nearly thirty thousand men, crowded together on the slopes of Janina.

Every sound, every whiff of smoke, ascending from near the castle,

became a subject of alarm for the besiegers. And as the besieged had

provisions for a long time, Kursheed saw little chance of successfully

ending his enterprise; when Ali’s demand for pardon occurred to him.

Without stating his real plans, he proposed to his Council to unite in

signing a petition to the Divan for Ali’s pardon.

This deed, formally executed, and bearing more than sixty signatures,

was then shown to Ali, who was greatly delighted. He was described in it

as Vizier, as Aulic Councillor, and also as the most distinguished

veteran among His Highness the Sultan’s slaves. He sent rich presents to

Kursheed and the principal officers, whom he hoped to corrupt, and

breathed as though the storm had passed away. The following night,

however, he heard the voice of Emineh, calling him several times, and

concluded that his end drew nigh.

During the two next nights he again thought he heard Emineh’s voice, and

sleep forsook his pillow, his countenance altered, and his endurance

appeared to be giving way. Leaning on a long Malacca cane, he repaired

at early dawn to Emineh’s tomb, on which he offered a sacrifice of two

spotted lambs, sent him by Tahir Abbas, whom in return he consented to

pardon, and the letters he received appeared to mitigate his trouble.

Some days later, he saw the keeper of the wardrobe, who encouraged him,

saying that before long there would be good news from Constantinople.

Ali learned from him the disgrace of Pacho Bey, and of Ismail Pliaga,

whom he detested equally, and this exercise of authority, which was made

to appear as a beginning of satisfaction offered him, completely

reassured him, and he made fresh presents to this officer, who had

succeeded in inspiring him with confidence.

Whilst awaiting the arrival of the firman of pardon which Ali was

reassured must arrive from Constantinople without fail, the keeper of

the wardrobe advised him to seek an interview with Kursheed. It was

clear that such a meeting could not take place in the undermined castle,

and Ali was therefore invited to repair to the island in the lake. The

magnificent pavilion, which he had constructed there in happier days,

had been entirely refurnished, and it was proposed that the conference

should take place in this kiosk.

Ali appeared to hesitate at this proposal, and the keeper of the

wardrobe, wishing to anticipate his objections, added that the object of

this arrangement was, to prove to the army, already aware of it, that

there was no longer any quarrel between himself and the

commander-in-chief. He added that Kursheed would go to the conference

attended only by members of his Divan, but that as it was natural an

outlawed man should be on his guard, Ali might, if he liked, send to

examine the place, might take with him such guards as he thought

necessary, and might even arrange things on the same footing as in his

citadel, even to his guardian with the lighted match, as the surest

guarantee which could be given him.

The proposition was accepted, and when Ali, having crossed over with a

score of soldiers, found himself more at large than he did in his

casemate, he congratulated himself on having come. He had Basilissa

brought over, also his diamonds; and several chests of money. Two days

passed without his thinking of anything but procuring various

necessaries, and he then began to inquire what caused the Seraskier to

delay his visit. The latter excused himself on the plea of illness, and

offered meanwhile to send anyone Ali might wish to see, to visit him:

The pacha immediately mentioned several of his former followers, now

employed in the Imperial army, and as no difficulty was made in allowing

them to go, he profited by the permission to interview a large number of

his old acquaintances, who united in reassuring him and in giving him

great hopes of success.

Nevertheless, time passed on, and neither the Seraskier nor the firman

appeared. Ali, at first uneasy, ended by rarely mentioning either the

one or the other, and never was deceiver more completely deceived. His

security was so great that he loudly congratulated himself on having

come to the island. He had begun to form a net of intrigue to cause

himself to be intercepted on the road when he should be sent to

Constantinople, and he did not despair of soon finding numerous

partisans in the Imperial army.

CHAPTER XI

For a whole week all seemed going well, when, on the morning of February

5th, Kursheed sent Hassan Pacha to convey his compliments to Ali, and

announce that the sultan’s firman, so long desired, had at length

arrived. Their mutual wishes had been heard, but it was desirable, for

the dignity of their sovereign, that Ali, in order to show his gratitude

and submission, should order Selim to extinguish the fatal match and to

leave the cave, and that the rest of the garrison should first display

the Imperial standard and then evacuate the enclosure. Only on this

condition could Kursheed deliver into Ali’s hands the sultan’s decree of

clemency.

Ali was alarmed, and his eyes were at length opened. He replied

hesitatingly, that on leaving the citadel he had charged Selim to obey

only his own verbal order, that no written command, even though signed

and sealed by himself, would produce any effect, and therefore he

desired to repair himself to the castle, in order to fulfil what was

required.

Thereupon a long argument ensued, in which Ali’s sagacity, skill, and

artifice struggled vainly against a decided line of action. New

protestations were made to deceive him, oaths were even taken on the

Koran that no evil designs, no mental reservations, were entertained. At

length, yielding to the prayers of those who surrounded him, perhaps

concluding that all his skill could no longer fight against Destiny, he

finally gave way.

Drawing a secret token from his bosom, he handed it to Kursheed’s envoy,

saying, "Go, show this to Selim, and you will convert a dragon into a

lamb." And in fact, at sight of the talisman, Selim prostrated himself,

extinguished the match, and fell, stabbed to the heart. At the same time

the garrison withdrew, the Imperial standard displayed its blazonry, and

the lake castle was occupied by the troops of the Seraskier, who rent

the air with their acclamations.

It was then noon. Ali, in the island, had lost all illusions. His pulse

beat violently, but his countenance did not betray his mental trouble.

It was noticed that he appeared at intervals to be lost in profound

thought, that he yawned frequently, and continually drew his fingers

through his beard. He drank coffee and iced water several times,

incessantly looked at his watch, and taking his field-glass, surveyed by

turns the camp, the castles of Janina, the Pindus range, and the

peaceful waters of the lake. Occasionally he glanced at his weapons, and

then his eyes sparkled with the fire of youth and of courage. Stationed

beside him, his guards prepared their cartridges, their eyes fixed on

the landing-place.

The kiosk which he occupied was connected with a wooden structure raised

upon pillars, like the open-air theatres constructed for a public

festival, and the women occupied the most remote apartments. Everything

seemed sad and silent. The vizier, according to custom, sat facing the

doorway, so as to be the first to perceive any who might wish to enter.

At five o’clock boats were seen approaching the island, and soon Hassan

Pacha, Omar Brionis, Kursheed’s sword-bearer, Mehemet, the keeper of the

wardrobe, and several officers of the army, attended by a numerous

suite, drew near with gloomy countenances.

Seeing them approach, Ali sprang up impetuously, his hand upon the

pistols in his belt. "Stand! . . . what is it you bring me?" he cried to

Hassan in a voice of thunder. "I bring the commands of His Highness the

Sultan,—knowest thou not these august characters?" And Hassan exhibited

the brilliantly gilded frontispiece which decorated the firman. "I know

them and revere them." "Then bow before thy destiny; make thy ablutions;

address thy prayer to Allah and to His Prophet; for thy, head is

demanded. . . ." Ali did not allow him to finish. "My head," he cried

with fury, "will not be surrendered like the head of a slave."

These rapidly pronounced words were instantly followed by a pistol-shot

which wounded Hassan in the thigh. Swift as lightning, a second killed

the keeper of the wardrobe, and the guards, firing at the same time,

brought down several officers. Terrified, the Osmanlis forsook the

pavilion. Ali, perceiving blood flowing from a wound in his chest,

roared like a bull with rage. No one dared to face his wrath, but shots

were fired at the kiosk from all sides, and four of his guards fell dead

beside him. He no longer knew which way to turn, hearing the noise made

by the assailants under the platform, who were firing through the boards

on which he stood. A ball wounded him in the side, another from below

lodged in his spine; he staggered, clung to a window, then fell on the

sofa. "Hasten," he cried to one of his officers, "run, my friend, and

strangle my poor Basilissa; let her not fall a prey to these infamous

wretches."

The door opened, all resistance ceased, the guards hastened to escape by

the windows. Kursheed’s sword-bearer entered, followed by the

executioners. "Let the justice of Allah be accomplished!" said a cadi.

At these words the executioners seized Ali, who was still alive, by the

beard, and dragged him out into the porch, where, placing his head on

one of the steps, they separated it from the body with many blows of a

jagged cutlass. Thus ended the career of the dreaded Ali Pacha.

His head still preserved so terrible and imposing an aspect that those

present beheld it with a sort of stupor. Kursheed, to whom it was

presented on a large dish of silver plate, rose to receive it, bowed

three times before it, and respectfully kissed the beard, expressing

aloud his wish that he himself might deserve a similar end. To such an

extent did the admiration with which Ali’s bravery inspired these

barbarians efface the memory of his crimes. Kursheed ordered the head to

be perfumed with the most costly essences, and despatched to

Constantinople, and he allowed the Skipetars to render the last honours

to their former master.

Never was seen greater mourning than that of the warlike Epirotes.

During the whole night, the various Albanian tribes watched by turns

around the corpse, improvising the most eloquent funeral songs in its

honour. At daybreak, the body, washed and prepared according to the

Mohammedan ritual, was deposited in a coffin draped with a splendid

Indian Cashmere shawl, on which was placed a magnificent turban, adorned

with the plumes Ali had worn in battle. The mane of his charger was cut

off, and the animal covered with purple housings, while Ali’s shield,

his sword, his numerous weapons, and various insignia, were borne on the

saddles of several led horses. The cortege proceeded towards the castle,

accompanied by hearty imprecations uttered by the soldiers against the

"Son of a Slave," the epithet bestowed on their sultan by the Turks in

seasons of popular excitement.

The Selaon-Aga, an officer appointed to render the proper salutes, acted

as chief mourner, surrounded by weeping mourners, who made the ruins of

Janina echo with their lamentations. The guns were fired at long

intervals. The portcullis was raised to admit the procession, and the

whole garrison, drawn up to receive it, rendered a military salute. The

body, covered with matting, was laid in a grave beside that of Amina.

When the grave had been filled in, a priest approached to listen to the

supposed conflict between the good and bad angels, who dispute the

possession of the soul of the deceased. When he at length announced that

Ali Tepelen Zadi would repose in peace amid celestial houris, the

Skipetars, murmuring like the waves of the sea after a tempest,

dispersed to their quarters:

Kursheed, profiting by the night spent by the Epirotes in mourning,

caused Ali’s head to be en closed in a silver casket, and despatched it

secretly to Constantinople. His sword-bearer Mehemet, who, having

presided at the execution, was entrusted with the further duty of

presenting it to the sultan, was escorted by three hundred Turkish

soldiers. He was warned to be expeditious, and before dawn was well out

of reach of the Arnaouts, from whom a surprise might have been feared.

The Seraskier then ordered the unfortunate Basilissa, whose life had

been spared, to be brought before him. She threw herself at his feet,

imploring him to spare, not her life, but her honour; and he consoled

her, and assured her of the sultan’s protection. She burst into tears

when she beheld Ali’s secretaries, treasurers, and steward loaded with

irons. Only sixty thousand purses (about twenty-five million piastres)

of Ali’s treasure could be found, and already his officers had been

tortured, in order to compel them to disclose where the rest might be

concealed. Fearing a similar fate, Basilissa fell insensible into the

arms of her attendants, and she was removed to the farm of Bouila, until

the Supreme Porte should decide on her fate.

The couriers sent in all directions to announce the death of Ali, having

preceded the sword-bearer Mehemet’s triumphal procession, the latter, on

arriving at Greveno, found the whole population of that town and the

neighbouring hamlets assembled to meet him, eager to behold the head of

the terrible Ali Pacha. Unable to comprehend how he could possibly have

succumbed, they could hardly believe their eyes when the head was

withdrawn from its casket and displayed before them. It remained exposed

to view in the house of the Mussulman Veli Aga whilst the escort partook

of refreshment and changed horses, and as the public curiosity continued

to increase throughout the journey, a fixed charge was at length made

for its gratification, and the head of the renowned vizier was degraded

into becoming an article of traffic exhibited at every post-house, until

it arrived at Constantinople.

The sight of this dreaded relic, exposed on the 23rd of February at the

gate of the seraglio, and the birth of an heir-presumptive to the sword

of Othman—which news was announced simultaneously with that of the death

of Ali, by the firing of the guns of the seraglio—roused the enthusiasm

of the military inhabitants of Constantinople to a state of frenzy, and

triumphant shouts greeted the appearance of a document affixed to the

head which narrated Ali’s crimes and the circumstances of his death,

ending with these words: "This is the Head of the above-named Ali Pacha,

a Traitor to the Faith of Islam."

Having sent magnificent presents to Kursheed, and a hyperbolical

despatch to his army, Mahmoud II turned his attention to Asia Minor;

where Ali’s sons would probably have been forgotten in their banishment,

had it not been supposed that their riches were great. A sultan does not

condescend to mince matters with his slaves, when he can despoil them

with impunity; His Supreme Highness simply sent them his commands to

die. Veli Pacha, a greater coward than a woman-slave born in the harem,

heard his sentence kneeling. The wretch who had, in his palace at Arta,

danced to the strains of a lively orchestra, while innocent victims were

being tortured around him, received the due reward of his crimes. He

vainly embraced the knees of his executioners, imploring at least the

favour of dying in privacy; and he must have endured the full bitterness

of death in seeing his sons strangled before his eyes, Mehemet the

elder, remarkable, for his beauty, and the gentle Selim, whose merits

might have procured the pardon of his family had not Fate ordained

otherwise. After next beholding the execution of his brother, Salik

Pacha, Ali’s best loved son, whom a Georgian slave had borne to him in

his old age, Veli, weeping, yielded his guilty head to the executioners.

His women were then seized, and the unhappy Zobeide, whose scandalous

story had even reached Constantinople, sewn up in a leather sack, was

flung into the Pursak—a river whose waters mingle with those of the

Sagaris. Katherin, Veli’s other wife, and his daughters by various

mothers, were dragged to the bazaar and sold ignominiously to Turcoman

shepherds, after which the executioners at once proceeded to make an

inventory of the spoils of their victims.

But the inheritance of Mouktar Pacha was not quite such an easy prey.

The kapidgi-bachi who dared to present him with the bowstring was

instantly laid dead at his feet by a pistol-shot. "Wretch!" cried

Mouktar, roaring like a bull escaped from the butcher, "dost thou think

an Arnaout dies like an eunuch? I also am a Tepelenian! To arms,

comrades! they would slay us!" As he spoke, he rushed, sword in hand,

upon the Turks, and driving them back, succeeded in barricading himself

in his apartments.

Presently a troop of janissaries from Koutaieh, ordered to be in

readiness, advanced, hauling up cannon, and a stubborn combat began.

Mouktar’s frail defences were soon in splinters. The venerable

Metche-Bono, father of Elmas Bey, faithful to the end, was killed by a

bullet; and Mouktar, having slain a host of enemies with his own hand

and seen all his friends perish, himself riddled with wounds, set fire

to the powder magazine, and died, leaving as inheritance for the sultan

only a heap of smoking ruins. An enviable fate, if compared with that of

his father and brothers, who died by the hand of the executioner.

The heads of Ali’s children, sent to Constantinople and exposed at the

gate of the seraglio, astonished the gaping multitude. The sultan

himself, struck with the beauty of Mehemet and Selim, whose long

eyelashes and closed eyelids gave them the appearance of beautiful

youths sunk in peaceful slumber, experienced a feeling of emotion. "I

had imagined them," he said stupidly, "to be quite as old as their

father;" and he expressed sorrow for the fate to which he had condemned

them.

*THE COUNTESS DE SAINT-GERAN—1639*