STRENUA INERTIA
We must now return to Sir John Finch.
We left him in the middle of 1674 at Pera, and there we still
find him at the end of the year. In the interval the Grand Vizir,
after a successful summer’s campaign, had returned to Adrianople
and taken up his winter pastime--negotiations for peace. French
emissaries and Hungarian malcontents fostered these attempts with
all their might in the hope of turning the attention of the Turks
against their Austrian enemy. The Turks, Sir John understood,
were “heartily weary of this lean warr in so cold and beggarly
a country, having spent allready in it 13 Millions of Dollars,”
but as the Poles were in precisely the same mood, Ahmed Kuprili,
like a good diplomat, had no mind to come to terms in a hurry.
Hostilities, therefore, were to be continued, but in a languid
fashion, and to be pleasantly diversified with festivities. The
Sultan had decided to pass the next season in mirth and jollity,
celebrating the circumcision of his son and the marriage of his
daughter. Both these interesting domestic events had been in
contemplation since 1669--when the boy was about six and the girl
not more than one year old; but circumstances over which the
happy father had no control had caused their postponement. They
were at last to take place in the spring of 1675, “with all the
magnificence that at such a feast can be shown. The Records of the
Serraglio here being to this effect sent for to Adrianople, it
being 60 years since this publick festivall has bin celebrated.”
So Sir John reported, adding, “My Audience I have designd’ to be
at the same time that I may see the Grandeur of this Empire in all
its glory; I imagine that I shall see a Great Army, Great Quantity
of Excellent Horses; Most rich furniture and Livery’s as to Jewells
and all Pompe of Embroaderys.”[70]
It would have been better for Sir John, if he had hastened to a
Court whither business called him, and where he was expected,
instead of waiting for festivals to which he had not been invited.
But, at any rate, in the months that were yet to elapse before
he moved, he found at Constantinople plenty of scope for his
diplomatic skill.
First of all, it was in these months that the thread of Sir
John Finch’s career became intertwined with that of his French
colleague, the extravagant, eccentric, magnificent, and altogether
picturesque Marquis de Nointel, who aimed at notability and
achieved notoriety. He broke in upon Sir John’s life at this
moment like a flaming meteor, to illumine it or otherwise we need
not say: perhaps the story itself will show. The connection was
inevitable. By the Treaty signed at Dover in May 1670, Charles,
for a consideration which he hoped would enable him to settle
domestic affairs to his own liking, had bound himself, in foreign
affairs, to the chariot of Louis. Thanks to this covenant, the
secular antagonism between the Governments of England and France
had ceased, and together with it the friction between their
representatives at the Porte. This is not to say that English
diplomacy in Turkey had become entirely subservient to French
diplomacy. Sir John’s immediate predecessor Harvey, as is made
abundantly clear by his despatches, knew perfectly well where
to draw the line. During his last two years at Constantinople
(1671-1672) he had lived on the most intimate terms with Nointel.
Yet not only he never did anything calculated to prejudice the
interests of his country, but showed the greatest vigilance in
checking every encroachment on the part of his friend: watching his
attempts to obtain from the Porte privileges detrimental to English
commerce or prestige, preparing to counteract all such attempts, if
necessary, and reporting home the French Ambassador’s failures with
undisguised satisfaction.[71] In the queer business of diplomacy
co-operation on some points does not preclude opposition on others,
and the closest friendship can flourish beside the bitterest
enmity. It is perhaps the only field of human activity that
presents such a constant combination of incompatibles. It was part
of Sir John’s duty to continue this qualified cordiality.
Unfortunately, since his arrival, there had occurred some incidents
which, unless very tactfully handled, threatened to jeopardise the
success of his efforts.
Although the Courts of England and France were at this time allies,
the English and French nations in the Levant continued to be as,
without interruption, they had always been, jealous rivals in
trade and everything else; and the intercourse between them had
not been improved by the character of that alliance: the English
felt irritated at the humiliating position in which the policy
of Charles placed them, while the French felt proportionately
vain of the eminence they owed to the power of Louis. In these
circumstances every tiff was magnified into a tempest, as must be
the case whenever the point at issue, however trivial in itself,
can be brought into any relation with national pride. When men meet
each other in a spirit of discord, predisposed at every moment to
give or receive offence, how soon is difference converted into
hostility, hardened into hatred, exasperated into rage. What folly
and outrage may not be expected to ensue! These psychological
conditions rendered the incidents Sir John had to deal with
serious--even alarming.
The first had occurred at the very moment of his landing at
Smyrna. A number of French merchants had been sent by their
Consul to greet him and to grace his entry into the town. But the
cavalcade had scarcely moved when a lively dispute about precedence
broke out between the French and the English Factors, and the
former--hot-tempered and not overbred Marseillese for the most
part--in spite of Consul Rycaut’s endeavours to appease them, left
the procession, hurling at the English words unfit for polite ears.
After this scene Sir John during his sojourn at Smyrna received
from the French “Nation” none of those civilities to which the
representative of a Court in alliance with theirs was entitled, nor
any mark of respect from the French ships on his departure, though
all the other European vessels in the harbour hoisted their flags
and fired their guns in his honour. Sir John was sorely vexed:
he had intended his advent to be an occasion for strengthening
Anglo-French relations, and it had been the signal for fresh
animosities. Doubtless he would have offered an explanation to
the French Ambassador as soon as he reached Constantinople,
but that gentleman was at the time away on a tour through the
Levant--visiting the various centres of French enterprise,
commercial and religious, and spreading the fame of France over
the Orient. Thus the matter remained pending, and meanwhile to the
Smyrna incident had been added another at Aleppo.
On June 22nd, 1674, three Majorca corsairs--part of a squadron
of 20 that was infesting the Syrian coasts--entered the port of
Scanderoon, where an English man-of-war, the _Sweepstakes_, lay
refitting after a bad storm, and two French merchantmen ready
to sail for home. On the appearance of the corsairs the French
vessels besought the protection of the English warship, the
captain of which, though in a sad plight himself--his topmast was
down--promised to protect them, on condition they took no action
until they saw him begin. In accordance with this promise, when
the pirate flagship came within speaking distance, he hailed
her and warned her not to violate the peace. The pirate replied
in the affirmative, and then, passing under the stern of the
_Sweepstakes_, cast anchor between her and the French vessels.
The latter, panic-stricken, fired, whereupon the Majorcans made
short work of them. The French of Aleppo furiously denounced the
English commander to the Turkish authorities as an accomplice of
the pirates, and, when they had cooled a little, referred their
grievance to M. de Nointel, who just then was at Tripoli in Syria.
The English Consul of Aleppo stopped the mouth of the Turkish
governor with a bribe of 1500 dollars and wrote to the French
Ambassador the truth of the matter. But Nointel, unconvinced, sent
to Sir John the French version of the affair, accusing the English
commander of treachery and collusion, and asking that Finch should
give a proof of his friendship and at the same time furnish the
King of England with the means of restoring the honour of his flag
by procuring the punishment of one who, whether from interest or
from whatever other motive, had tarnished it in such a cowardly
manner.[72]
This “imbroyl” had cost the English Factory no small trouble.
Nevertheless, when presently M. de Nointel came to Aleppo,
our factors went out in a body to meet him--a troop of young
cavaliers whose looks, mounts, and garments excited in the
French Ambassador’s entourage admiration and envy mingled with
astonishment. Why, these English traders were cadets of good
family--even “des fils de milords,” making their own fortunes in a
far-away land! But M. de Nointel spurned them, for they had come
without their Consul, and therefore their homage was not “dans les
formes.”[73]
Evidently the noble Marquis was, to use the slang of the times, “in
a Huff”; and it was in no amiable frame of mind that, on the 31st
of December, the very anniversary of Sir John’s arrival, he touched
at Smyrna on his return voyage.
Our Factory seized the opportunity to pay the French back in
kind: neglect for neglect, and slight for slight. Twenty-four
boats, carrying the French Consul and all his compatriots--also the
Consuls of Venice, Genoa, and Messina, each in a boat flying his
national colours--met the man-of-war that bore the noble Marquis
in the middle of the bay; but of the English Nation there was no
sign or ensign. Neither did the good ship _Hunter_ that chanced
to be in port hang out her “Ancient” or fire a gun as the French
Ambassador passed by. We simply did not know that “any such person
was come.” The French received exactly the treatment they had meted
out to us a year ago. “Onely our Consul did more like a Gentleman
then theirs.” That this snub might not seem strange to the noble
Marquis, Mr. Rycaut sent him a letter in beautiful French,
explaining at length the weighty reasons of national dignity
which compelled us to abstain from paying his Excellency the
homage, etc. M. de Nointel returned a verbal answer: he was sorry
for that misunderstanding, but he was none the less the courtly
Consul’s friend and servant. “Thus farr things seemd’ to looke like
reciprocations, and to be layd asleep.” But Eris--the dread goddess
of strife--slept not. She lay awake revolving in her heart how to
set the “Nations” by the ears. And behold: twenty-four hours after,
at break of day, discord broke forth afresh.
As dawn spread her saffron twilight over the Bay of Smyrna, two
French ships sailed in: they came from Marseilles, bringing, among
other things, many letters for the English Factory. The _Hunter_
did not salute them. And M. de Nointel retaliated by detaining the
English letters. Let it be said at once that this fresh neglect
had nothing of human design in it: it was a pure accident--solely
the work of the mischievous goddess aforesaid. The commander of
the _Hunter_, in Sir John’s own words, “having bin merry over
night, was not so early in the morning fitted either for ceremony
or buisenesse.” Mr. Rycaut, after reprimanding him very severely,
sent to the French Consul his excuses, protesting that what seemed
a deliberate affront was really done without order and was due
entirely to the fact that Captain Parker had passed the night
ashore--folk at all acquainted with the traditions of Smyrna did
not need to be told more. He begged that the letters might be
delivered. But our candid apology met with a worse response than
it deserved. The French Consul, in a mighty passion and with much
noise, cried out that his Ambassador was highly offended with Mr.
Rycaut, that he regarded both him and his Nation as enemies, and
that his Excellency was resolved not only to keep those letters,
but also to give orders at Marseilles to throw overboard all
English despatches that should be consigned to French vessels.
This was surely hitting below the belt: this was degrading a
stately duel to the level of a sordid business squabble. Not thus
did Mr. Rycaut understand the law of retaliation. He sent his
passionate colleague word that this was more than the English in
time of war did to their foes; but it mattered not: every day the
Smyrna factors expected English ships which would bring them copies
of their letters, and also many letters for the French, which he
would deliver, notwithstanding the detention of ours. But both
this and several subsequent applications remained fruitless: the
English mail was kept from the 2nd of January until the 8th of
February, to the great prejudice of the whole Levant Company and
to the scandalisation of all disinterested foreigners who, looking
upon letters as the life of trade, pronounced the interception of
them an act unfriendly and all the more unpardonable since the
Dutch, who were actually at war with France, had their mail duly
delivered to them. Meanwhile Mr. Rycaut makes another effort “to
moderate,” as he says, “the heat of contests, not knowing how
farre they may proceed nor in what point they may terminate.”
Two English ships, the _William and John_ and the _Bonaventure_,
as they came into port, saluted, by order of their Consul, the
French man-of-war; but they received no return of the compliment
by express order from the French Ambassador. So pass the days; and
one’s hopes of reconciliation are baulked; and Eris goes on adding
fuel to the flame....
The French then, as now, were governed by their hearts more than by
their heads. But, in the present instance, they were not prompted
wholly by wounded _amour propre_. Their vindictiveness had its
roots somewhat deeper. Just before M. de Nointel’s arrival at
Smyrna a French manufacturer of spurious dollars had been detected
by an interpreter of the English Embassy who had had a number of
such coins foisted upon him, and through Mr. Rycaut’s exertions
had been caught in the act and committed to the French Consul’s
prison, whence, however, he was soon after released. In the same
way, during the last year, two or three other French coiners had
been exposed and allowed to escape, the French authorities, in
order to save the face of their Nation, smothering the crime
and spiriting away the criminals. The English, however, whose
business suffered by the circulation of false money, considered
it a vital interest to bring the culprits to book, and Mr.
Rycaut, despite the rejection of his apologies, lodged a vigorous
protest with the French Ambassador against the release of that
offender. M. de Nointel, in a very short and very sharp reply,
characterised the Consul’s Memorial as “ripiena di falsità”--“full
of falsehood”--denouncing the English factors as abettors of the
forgeries, and declaring that he would demand from their Ambassador
reparation for the “calumny.” This scurrilous reply inflamed
the whole English colony. In a petition to Sir John Finch they
indignantly repudiated Nointel’s aspersion--“an accusation of
this nature, given under the handwriting of an Ambassador,” they
said, “carry’s force of beliefe and weight and authority in it
selfe”: what would the Levant Company think of them: what would
be the impression upon their principals, “and perhaps some of our
Relations at home?” Therefore, they concluded, “Wee most humbly
beseech Your Excellency to take this matter into your serious
consideration, that in some publick manner the ancient repute of
our Nation may be justify’d and maintaind’, and that this occasion
may be so improved by a strict examination of this affayr as may
wholely discover and disappoint the farther progress of false
coyners by the punishment of whom others taking example may be
deterr’d.”[74]
Here was a pretty state of things for a diplomat anxious to
consolidate the Anglo-French alliance. But diplomacy is nothing if
not the application of intelligence and tact to the management of
international susceptibilities. Sir John could not believe that
M. de Nointel would push matters so far as to make accommodation
impossible. Their correspondence had hitherto been marked by
a friendliness which he hoped a personal interview would not
diminish. Certainly he intended to do all that in him lay to
preserve a good understanding with the impetuous Frenchman. At the
same time, he was not prepared to sacrifice one jot of his dignity.
“If He comes in Person to make me a Visit as Ambassadours of long
Residence, are obligd’ to them that come after them;” he wrote to
the Secretary of State, “Our Intercourse will not easily breake
off; But if by the returning newly from a long Journy, He hopes,
or designs, to evade that Act of respect due to my character; His
Majesty’s Honour will never permitt us to meet. But,” he added,
“the Prudence of His Excellency conversant with buisenesse; will I
presume never putt me upon that necessity.”
A few days afterwards M. de Nointel arrived at Constantinople,[75]
and immediately Sir John sent his Secretary to inform him of a
fact with which the Marquis was already perfectly well acquainted:
namely, that he had come here, whilst Nointel was touring, as
English Ambassador to the Porte, and to congratulate him on his
safe return to his accustomed residence: so there could be no doubt
which of the two was the new-comer and entitled to the first visit.
Very politely Nointel, within half-an-hour, sent _his_ Secretary
to tell Finch that it was that Secretary’s fault that he had been
forestalled, adding that he desired very close relations with him.
Finch thanked the Marquis, assuring him that, on his own part,
nothing would be wanting to promote such relations, “since that,
there passing between both the Kings our Masters a friendship of
most entire confidence, t’ would be scandalous in the face of the
world for their Ministers to admitt of a conversation that had
anything repugnant to intimacy.” Would the noble Marquis take the
hint? Desire for cordiality battled with sense of dignity in Sir
John’s bosom, filling it with tremulous speculation: “When He has
made me a visit, as according to His obligation He is bound, and
His Secretary tells me He designs; I shall then see upon what Basis
our conversation is like to be built. I have reason to believe,
if once wee meet, that all the past misunderstandings will be
rectifyd’ and redressd.” But would they meet? Would the noble
Marquis be reasonable enough to pay the first visit?
For about a fortnight this question racked the bosom of Sir
John. During that fortnight the Carnival ended and Lent began.
M. de Nointel, a good Catholic, sent to Sir John “for some white
Herrings.” Sir John gave his Excellency not only herrings, but “all
the sorts of our English salt fish” that were to be found among our
factors at Galata. Not to be outdone in generosity, his Excellency
“made a return of a Doz: bottles of Vin de St Laurens and a Barell
of Cyprus Birds”--a veritable Trojan of a Frenchman this: rare
wines and birds for white herrings. It augured well. Better still,
at the end of the fortnight M. de Nointel’s Chief Dragoman made
Sir John “a very large complement in his Name; and the Visit is
appointed at three of the clock this afternoon.”
Sir John, you see, and from this you may gauge his trepidation,
rushed to his escritoire and picked up his quill the moment the
Dragoman was gone: he could not wait until the visit was over to
let the Secretary of State know how it went off: he must needs
relieve his heart by pouring out what was in it: “When I receive
him, this being the first time wee have seen each other, I shall
give a fayr guesse how affayrs are like to proceed between us.” It
would all depend on the Marquis’s manners and pretensions: he would
have measure for measure: neither more nor less: “This, Sir, you
may be assurd’ of, I shall not part with the least puntiglio of the
King’s Honour, or the Publick Interest. And I am halfe perswaded
He will decline the trespassing against either, for I hear that He
is a Prudent, and Good Naturd’ Gentleman, but how he comes to be
misled by false informations I know not.”
The momentous interview took place on the 24th of February 1675.
It lasted three hours--three hours spent mostly “in Expostulations
upon the mutuall dissatisfactions receivd’ and given.” Item was set
against item, in the usual debit-and-credit style, so that it might
be ascertained on whose side lay the balance of offence. And now
it transpired that, after all their neglects at his entrance into
Smyrna, our factors had inflicted upon M. de Nointel an affront
of a peculiarly exasperating nature. It was this: one fine day,
as the noble Marquis was passing by the sea-shore, he espied on
a gallery that overlooked the sea three or four of those blades.
Did they salute him? Far from it: the moment they saw him, they
set their hats fast upon their heads, lest peradventure the wind
should blow them off and the accident be construed into a salute,
and then sat still with their arms “a kimbow.” Stifling his wrath,
the Marquis tried a ruse, by ordering those of his retinue who
followed close behind him to salute first, which was accordingly
done; but it worked nothing: the young Englishmen kept their
original posture, for all the world as if they were not aware of
his Excellency’s existence. What had Sir John to set against this
piece of cool effrontery? Sir John rose to the occasion: “As to
the unmannerly young men; I could not but confesse That it was
high rudenesse”; but when he was at Smyrna he passed, not once
but several times, under the French Consul’s gallery without his
taking any notice of him: “And this was done by a Magistrate in
goverment who should know and practise more Civility.” Having thus
beaten back the attack, Sir John proceeded to carry the war into
the enemy’s territory: “I told Him He must now Give me Leave to
Instance in Two things which I had reason to beleive He could not
Parallel.” The first was the detention of the English mail, the
second the aspersion on the English factors’ character. Nointel
answered the first by explaining that it was done upon the petition
of the French Captains whom the _Hunter_ had omitted to salute, but
it was only a temporary delay: the letters were delivered after
his departure. As to his accusation of our factors, he confessed
that he had been provoked to it by Mr. Rycaut’s assertion that the
French coiner had paid to one of Sir John’s interpreters “35 false
Dollars, which in Truth were but five.”
Enough has been said to show that in this combat of wits, which was
continued for three more hours on Sir John’s return visit three
days later, the French Marquis found more than his match in the
English Knight. On this, as on other occasions of the same kind,
Finch proved, to the satisfaction of any impartial critic, that he
had inherited a sufficient share of his family’s forensic talent.
It is pleasant to hear that the combat was conducted on both sides
“with patience, mutuall deference, and reciprocall respect.” It
ended as it ought. “I thought it most proper,” says Sir John, “that
they who had first divided us, should make the first step towards
the uniting us. And therefore I propounded that the French Consul
meeting our Consul at Smyrna in the usuall walke of the Cappuchin’s
Garden; Should Be the First to addresse Himselfe to our Consul
Telling Him That He had orders from His Ambassadour to endeavour
to begett a mutuall good understanding between themselves and the
reciprocall Nations; which passe being made, our Consul is to reply
That He has the same orders from me.” The proposal, after some
hesitation, was accepted, and the incident closed, to Sir John’s
no small content with himself and with his French colleague: “I
cannot but say That the character I formerly gave His Excellency is
fully made good by Him; of being a Gentleman of Great Prudence and
Civility.”[76]
No sooner was this bone of contention “buryd” than another affair
rose on our Ambassador. The Barbary Corsairs--those redoubtable
sea-wolves who seemed to take a perverse pleasure in harassing
the friends of their suzerain--were once more at their old game.
For some time past English navigation in the Mediterranean had
enjoyed exceptional prosperity: all sorts of foreign merchants,
whose nations were at war, choosing to convey their goods under the
flag of the only country that was at peace with the whole world.
By these voyages between Spanish, Italian, and Turkish ports, our
countrymen not only reaped the benefit of the foreign freights,
but besides put out their money at “Cambio Marittimo”--that is, on
security of the merchandise they carried, at 20 and 25 per cent: an
immense gain. But lately the Tripolines disturbed this lucrative
traffic by seizing two of the vessels engaged in it. The English
Consul at Tripoli managed to free the ships, as well as the English
men and goods in them, but the property of foreigners, which
constituted the bulk of the cargoes, could not be rescued: even as
it was, the liberation of the ships and crews had raised a loud
outcry against the Dey, whose subjects were either pirates or such
as got their livelihood from them; and a revolt had barely been
averted. In the circumstances the Dey, even if he had the will,
lacked the power to restore the booty, claiming that by her Treaty
with England Tripoli had the right to search English ships and to
confiscate foreign goods.
These outrages had dealt a severe blow at the prestige of the
English flag, and it was feared that they might prove a cause of
greater damage still, if left unavenged: “unlesse His Majesty
is pleasd to resent this searching of His ships and taking out
Strangers Goods,” wrote Finch to the Secretary of State, “T’
will be impossible to keep long Argiers and Tunis from the same
Trade and liberty; and at last the Maltese and other Christian
Corsari will pretend to the same.” He went on to suggest that the
appearance of an English squadron in the Mediterranean would have
a salutary effect both as a corrective and as a preventive.[77] As
a fact, the English Government had anticipated the suggestion; and
presently the Ambassador received from Smyrna a letter enclosing
a communication from Sir John Narbrough to Mr. Consul Rycaut: the
Admiral, having been denied by the Dey satisfaction, had commenced
hostilities. This vigour, no doubt, redounded to the glory of
England; but at the same time it created a delicate situation for
her representative at the Porte.
The Barbary States still were, at least in name, parts of the
Ottoman Empire. When their enormities were brought to the notice
of the Porte by European ambassadors, the Grand Signor’s Ministers
professed themselves greatly shocked. But what would you? they
said. The Barbary people were rebels for whose sins the Grand
Signor could not be held responsible. When the ambassador requested
that, such being the case, the Grand Signor should not consider
himself aggrieved if his master should take his own vengeance and
right his own wrongs, the Ministers used to answer that it was only
just that malefactors should suffer and that those who inflicted
injuries on others should receive injuries themselves. But the
Grand Signor could not see with indifference his vassal States
attacked: the utmost he would permit was reprisals on pirate ships
afloat--an assault on the towns ashore would be regarded as an act
of hostility against himself. Hence, every time an English fleet
came forth to punish the African rogues, the English in Turkey
trembled lest it should do something that might draw the Sultan’s
wrath down upon them. Such was the situation created in 1661 by Sir
John Lawson’s, and in 1669-71 by Sir Thomas Allin’s and Sir Edward
Spragge’s expeditions against Algiers.[78] As Winchilsea and Harvey
on those occasions, so Finch now had to bestir himself to prevent
disagreeable developments. He began by transmitting the news of
the rupture with Tripoli to the Grand Vizir, “that it might not be
thought His Majesty Our Master had broken with those Vile People an
Agreement subscribd’ by both Monarchs, but according to the Tenour
of the Articles.”[79]
And that was not all: troubles seldom come single. The Pasha
of Tunis, it now appeared, was not satisfied with the 30,000
dollars the Ambassador had recovered for him. He affirmed that
this sum represented only a fraction of his loss, and claimed
60,000 dollars more. As to Sir John’s settlement with his Aga, the
Pasha had already shown what he thought of that transaction in an
unmistakable manner. The moment the Aga reached home he received,
in lieu of thanks, a merciless drubbing. When he could walk,
the wretched Procurator came to Finch, told him how he had been
treated, and left with him the written dismissal he had from his
master, saying that the Pasha was a bad man, and that document
might be of use to the Ambassador one day. Then he went away to
Trebizond, where he died. In the meantime the Pasha had obtained
a new post at the Porte, and now favoured Sir John with a list of
his alleged losses, sent through no less a person than the Grand
Vizir’s Kehayah or Steward. How much this unexpected missive
perturbed Sir John may be judged by his own expression: “The storm
which I had thought had bin blown over, as to the depredation of
the Pashah of Tunis, is turnd’ upon me more violent then ever.”[80]
He did not think it politic, however, to betray his agitation by
taking direct notice of the claim. But he immediately despatched
to Adrianople his second Dragoman, Signor Antonio Perone, under
pretence of finding lodgings for his Audience, with instructions
to own no other errand: only, after he had been there four or five
days to invent an excuse for waiting upon the Kehayah and, in case
that official made no mention of the matter, to say nothing about
it; but if he broached the question, the Dragoman was primed what
to answer. Should the Kehayah prove obstinate, the Dragoman was
to address himself, in the Ambassador’s name, to the Grand Vizir
and complain of the Tripoline outrages, thus meeting the Pasha’s
grievance with a counter-grievance. Even if the Grand Vizir did
not allude to the subject of his own accord, Signor Antonio had
orders, unless he found him out of humour, to open it himself
and predispose him in Sir John’s favour. It was not the weakness
of his case that troubled our Ambassador: he believed that in an
argument he could more than hold his own; what made him fear was
the fact that the Pasha had presented one half of his claim to the
Sultan, who just now wanted money badly to defray the cost of the
coming festivities: “in order to which extraordinary expense He has
imposd’ a great Taxe upon all those that have any charge under Him
throughout the Empire.”[81]
The inadvisability of further inaction thus borne in upon our
Ambassador from more quarters than one, he hurried on his
preparations for the trip to Adrianople.
It was “a grand equipment,” and the task of providing the
thousand and one things needed for it--tents, horses for saddle
and carriage, hired servants, and so forth--devolved on the
Levant Company’s Treasurer. The Ambassador was far too great a
man to concern himself about matters of this sort. He serenely
abandoned to Dudley North all the drudgery, and, with the drudgery,
all the amusement and emolument. North enjoyed both. The only
matters connected with the expedition that Sir John seems to
have considered worthy of his care were matters which gave rise
to points of honour--sundry acts of commission or omission, mere
pinholes, maybe, to the ordinary eye; significant enough to one
whose guiding maxim was, “Never to part with the least Puntiglio of
the King’s Honour.”
Signor Antonio at Adrianople demanded a Command for the Kaimakam
of Constantinople to supply the Ambassador with carts. The Command
was issued, but it was worded in a way which suggested that the
Porte had been annoyed by Sir John’s delay in presenting his
Credentials: the Kaimakam was ordered to _send_ the Ambassador to
Audience. Signor Antonio returned the document, saying that his
Excellency would never come on such terms: why should he be sent,
when he had offered to come? The phrasing was altered accordingly.
But when the Command reached Constantinople, Sir John found himself
obliged to fight for the King’s honour on another “puntiglio.”
The Kaimakam allotted him thirty carts, as he had done to his
predecessor (Harvey, it would seem from this as well as from other
instances, was not very sensitive on “puntiglios”--but then he had
not the advantage of an Italian education). On being informed that
the French Ambassador, when he went to Adrianople, had double that
number, Sir John declared that he “was an Ambassadour of no lesse
King, and had as good a Retinue,” consequently he required an equal
number of carts. The Kaimakam said it was true that Nointel had
been assigned sixty, but had been content with fifty. Very well,
was Sir John’s rejoinder, “I would have the same assignment to me
and I would be content with fifty-five.”[82]
These points carried, Sir John could proceed to his Audience with
an easy mind.
FOOTNOTES:
[70] Finch to Coventry, Jan. 11-21, 1674-75, _Coventry Papers_.
[71] Harvey to Arlington, July 1, 1672. Cp. Rycaut to the Same,
June 29, 1671, _S.P. Turkey_, 19.
[72] Nointel to Finch, A Tripoly le 12 Juillet 1674; Consul
Gamaliel Nightingale to the Same, Aleppo, July 10, 1674; Finch to
Arlington, July 27, S.N., 1674, _Coventry Papers_.
[73] A. Vandal, _Les Voyages du Marquis de Nointel_, p. 155.
[74] Rycaut to Nointel (in French), Smirne ce 31 Décembre 1674;
the Same to the Same (in Italian) 8, 4-14 Jennaro, 1674-75, with
Nointel’s reply (in Italian); the Same to Joseph Williamson, March
8, 1674-75, _S.P. Turkey_, 19. Finch to Coventry, Feb. 1-11, 4-14;
the Factory of Smyrna to Finch, Jan. 19, 1674-75, _Coventry Papers_.
[75] The exact date of his Excellency’s arrival can scarcely be a
matter of deep concern to any man now living; yet, as an example of
the discrepancies which beset the path of the historical student,
the following may be of some interest: “The French Amb.: the
Marquis de Nointell arrivd’ here the 13th at breake of day.” Finch
to Coventry, Feb. 5-15; “His Excellcy: arrivd’ here Saturday Febr.
the 15-25.” Same to Same, Feb. 24-March 6; “Le 20 février 1675,
Nointel rentrait à Constantinople,” Vandal, p. 175.
[76] Finch to Coventry, Feb. 5-15, Feb. 24/March 6, March 1-11,
1674-75, _Coventry Papers_.
[77] Finch to Coventry, Jan 11-21, 1674-75, enclosing letter from
Consul Nathaniel Bradley, dated Tripoli di Barbaria, Nov. 23, 1674,
_Coventry Papers_. Cp. Rycaut to Arlington, Smyrna, Nov. 21, 1674,
_S.P. Turkey_, 19.
[78] Winchilsea to Nicholas, March 4, 1660-61; Aug. 20, Oct.
19, Nov. 11-21, 1661; Jan. 13, 1661-62; May 24, 1662; Harvey to
Arlington, Aug. 18, 1669; Jan. 31, 1669-70; April 30, 1672, _S.P.
Turkey_, 17 and 19.
[79] Finch to Narbrough, May 24: S V. 1675, _Coventry Papers_.
[80] Finch to Coventry, Feb. 24/March 6, 1674-75, _Coventry Papers_.
[81] Finch to Coventry, Feb. 24/March 6, 1674-75, _Coventry Papers_.
[82] Finch to Coventry, Sept. 9, 1675, _Coventry Papers_.