FROM PURGATORY TO PERA
The price had been paid. Yet the goods were not forthcoming.
The pashas were always about to act, but never acted. And, in
the meantime, the Plague grew fiercer and fiercer. There was no
escaping the foul visitant: it pursued the fugitives even into
their privacy. Count Bocareschi came constantly to dine with the
Ambassador, and one day, as he sat next to him at table, Sir John
noticed that, contrary to habit, he ate little. After looking at
him he remarked that his countenance was changed. The Italian
answered that he died daily of fear: he was not yet Moslem enough
to despise the Plague, but his wife, a born believer, would not
hear of moving: however, whether she would or not, he had made up
his mind to move. Alas! it was too late--the noble parasite had
eaten his last free meal.[155] All this was very depressing, and it
was not all: “The weather was excessive hot, and the air stagnated
in a manner, we being placed in a pan or flat: so that it was
plague enough merely to stay there.... The terrible heat of the sun
reflected from a dry barren sandy soil, and the fulsome foggy aire,
broyled us and choked us.”[156] So pass the sultry dog-days in the
most purgatorial manner; and the whole month of August. And still
nothing accomplished.
Under these conditions the poor Ambassador’s patience and temper
broke down utterly. For weeks he had waited weary and dissatisfied
with everything and everybody: not knowing what to trust to after
so many disappointments, or where to lay the fault, whether in
the incapacity of his Dragomans or the insufficiency of his own
diplomacy. In this uncertain and perplexed state, often abused and
deceived by the men who professed to be his friends, Sir John had
possessed his soul. He could possess it no longer. One day his
feelings burst through all restraint and leapt from his lips. He
railed against the Dragomans, blaming them for all the delays and
vowing that, if in forty-eight hours he had no categorical answer
as to when his business should be done, or where it had stuck,
he would apply to the Grand Vizir through Dr. Mavrocordato, or
himself go to the Kehayah without them. This explosion braced up
Signor Giorgio and Signor Antonio to fresh efforts, and about three
days after they brought Sir John word that all was arranged: next
Friday, please God, his Excellency would have his farewell audience
of the Grand Vizir and receive from his hands the new Capitulations
as well as the Grand Signor’s and his own answers to the King’s
letters.[157]
A little psychological essay would not be out of place here. The
English of that day attributed the Porte’s dilatoriness to sheer
indolence intensified by debauchery. They noted that, since Ahmed
Kuprili had espoused the bottle, State affairs had suffered as
much as his health, “soe that all business which must pass the
Vizir is done with great disadvantage and after many delays.”[158]
That was true; but perhaps it was not the whole truth. In the first
place, we know that the Turks had been offended by Sir John’s
delay in coming to present his Credentials, and we may surmise
that they paid inertness for inertness. This so far as the Vizir’s
subordinates are concerned. As to the Vizir himself, Ahmed may have
been above petty pique; but Ahmed, as the Rev. John described him,
as everybody who had dealings with him said, was “a subtle cunning
man.”[159] All his actions and inactions were premeditated, all
his steps were measured, all his words were carefully weighed.
The whole of his life was nothing but a part which he played with
that consummate astuteness, dissimulation, and suppleness of
mind which mark the born diplomat. He knew human nature, and he
had apparently gauged pretty accurately Sir John’s nature. The
Ambassador, the Vizir reasoned, if he only made his sojourn long
enough and disagreeable enough, would get impatient to return to
his comfortable home at Pera, and would waive points that he might
otherwise have insisted upon. All he had to do was to wear him out
by a process of procrastination. For the rest, Ahmed had tried
exactly the same system a few years before in the same place on
another highly-strung Frank, the Marquis de Nointel, with complete
success. That he was no less successful now can easily be shown.
Just as things had reached that point, there arrived from Smyrna
an express courier with a letter from Consul Rycaut. It was
signed by all the English merchants, who prayed his Excellency to
protect them against an administrative innovation that threatened
their interests and privileges. In different circumstances, Sir
John would have turned every stone: as it was, he did not even
acknowledge receipt of the complaint.[160] The same lassitude and
anxiety to shake the dust of Adrianople from off his feet were
manifest in what follows.
On the Thursday before the Friday fixed for his farewell audience,
Signor Antonio Perone went to the Kehayah to see if the appointment
held. He found that the appointment stood good, but that--the
Capitulations lacked the Grand Signor’s autograph (_Hattisherif_).
To his protest the Kehayah blandly replied that, as the Venetians,
the French, and the Dutch were content to do without the Imperial
autograph, there was no need for it. The Dragoman insisted;
but all the answer he obtained was, _Olmaz_--it could not be!
Thereupon, without going back to the Ambassador for instructions,
he ran straight to the Rais Effendi and besought his help. The
Rais Effendi also said, _Olmaz_: the Grand Vizir had decided that
there should be no Imperial autograph--only the Imperial cipher.
It was no use pressing him: he knew the Vizir to be a man who
never changed his mind. Signor Antonio returned to the Kehayah
and implored him so earnestly that at last he got him to write to
the Vizir’s Muhurdar, or Keeper of the privy seal, and ask him to
approach his master on the subject. But the Muhurdar also declined
to interfere. The Dragoman, at his wits’ end, ran and fetched the
old Capitulations, as renewed by Lord Winchilsea, and, laying
them before the Kehayah, showed him the Grand Signor’s handwriting
upon them: here is the precedent, he said, and pointed out what
an unreasonable thing it was that the new Charter should want
the force of the old. In the end the Kehayah unbent so far as to
send a Memorial to the Grand Vizir, and by and by informed Signor
Antonio that the thing was as good as done: “Give the Ambassador
my salaams,” he said, “and tell him that I hope to get everything
ready in a few days more: you may say three to the Ambassador,
but I doubt not that I shall have it done in two.” Meanwhile, the
audience, naturally, was postponed.
The news was calculated to perturb a nature much less combustible
than Sir John’s. No language could express his rage and despair.
He was furious--furious with the Kehayah and Rais Effendi for
not informing him of the hitch sooner, but at the eleventh hour
putting him off; even more furious with the Dragoman for having
insisted on the Hattisherif! Rather than wait another day, Finch
would have gone without, thinking it enough that the other
Europeans had none, and forgetting how it must have reflected on
his diplomatic dexterity to lose an advantage his predecessors
had secured--and one, too, “whereof,” says Dudley North, “we had
swaggered and gloried so much!” So efficacious was Ahmed’s system
for dealing with ambassadors. Luckily, there was our Treasurer
to prevent mischief. In him both the Vizir and the Ambassador
had found their match. To Ahmed’s impassivity North opposed his
tireless perseverance, and to Sir John’s febrile impatience his
imperturbable phlegm. Often, disapproving of his Excellency’s
orders to the Dragomans, he countermanded them behind his back, and
now he defeated his insane inclination to play into Kuprili’s hand:
all the time managing Finch’s pride by an attitude of absolute
submissiveness.[161] North had a sense of humour.
“In two days,” had said the Kehayah. But many more than two days
pass, and the thing is not yet done. The Dragomans are at their
old trade of soliciting for dispatch, prodded on by the Treasurer.
Sometimes they find the Kehayah arguing against the necessity of
having the Grand Signor’s autograph, but he always ends by telling
them that they will have it. One day he says that the Capitulations
are in the hands of the Vizir’s Muhurdar, waiting to be presented
to the Grand Signor with several other documents as soon as the
signing-time should arrive. Thereupon Sir John orders four vests to
be sent to the Muhurdar.
At length, the Turks having exhausted the possibilities of delay,
news comes that the Grand Signor has signed the Capitulations and
that his Excellency should be ready to receive them from the Grand
Vizir’s hands on Wednesday, the 8th of September, at three in the
afternoon.
Of a truth, the long-promised will now be done!
Sir John, in his eagerness, went too soon and had to wait in the
Kehayah’s apartment till prayers were over. Coffee and sherbet were
served, while Dr. Mavrocordato, like Finch a medical graduate of
Padua, entertained him with light talk about the Plague--no topic
could be more topical: in that very apartment there were many sick
Turks. After a time Ambassador and suite were conducted into the
Vizir’s room. Ahmed’s face, especially about the eyes, looked
bloated. The guests understood that the Vizir had had as much as
he could carry the night before. Yet he was in very good humour.
“He vested eleven of my Retinue, besides my selfe: my Druggerman
informing me that my Predecessor had none at all, and that usually
besides the Ambassadour but one was vested who was thought to be
Him who was to carry the Gran Signor’s Letters to the King. Thus
the Vizir and I setting downe after welcome given me, in the first
place He gives me with His owne Hands (which He did not to the
French Ambassadour) the Capitulations.”[162]
No bond could be more binding. It secures to the English all their
privileges “so long as Charles the Second King of England (whose
end may it terminate in Happynesse) maintains good friendship and
corrispondence with Us,” and it concludes with a solemn oath to
this effect: “Wee swear and promise by Him that has created the
Heaven and the Earth and all creatures: By that Creator, the One
God, Wee do promise, that nothing shall be done contrary to this
Imperiall Capitulation.” There follows the name of the Sultan “in
a knott of Great Letters”--and the famous autograph: “Lett every
thing be observd’ in conformity to this Our Imperiall Command, and
contrary to it lett nothing be done.” So much concerning the form;
as to substance, besides the additional articles already familiar
to the reader, the Charter contains a surprise: “There passing good
corrispondence between Us and the King of England, out of regard
of this good friendship, Wee doe grant that two ships lading of
Figgs, Raisins, or Currants, may be yearly exported for the use of
His Majesty’s kitchin.”[163]
Sir John rose up to receive the imposing document and kissed it.
How his fingers must have trembled as they clutched at last that
precious, never-to-be-enough-valued parchment which had cost him so
many hours of unutterable anguish!
Next the Grand Vizir handed to the Ambassador the Grand Signor’s
Letters for his Majesty. Sir John received them standing and
likewise kissed them. Then Ahmed gave him his own letter for his
Majesty, “which I onely carryd’ to my Breast, at which He smild’.”
This done, Sir John, in touching and dignified language, thanked
the Vizir for his particularly tender care of our interests,
adding that he would see that it received a particularly grateful
acknowledgment from our King. Ahmed replied “He knew there was
great favour done in them [the Capitulations], but all was owed
justly to the Friendship of the King your Master; for He was
esteemd’ here for one of the best friends amongst the Christian
Princes that the Emperour had.”
There ensued some conversation about international affairs.
It turned on the seizure of Prince William of Furstenberg, a
plenipotentiary at the Congress of Cologne, by the Imperialists and
the consequent breakdown of the negotiations between France and
Germany. In reply to a question from the Vizir, the Ambassador said
this outrage made Peace very difficult: the French king declared
that the Prince was under his protection and refused to treat
before his release; while the Emperor would not deliver him until
after a Treaty was concluded.
“That,” said Ahmed, “is easily adjusted: Lett the Emperour take off
His head, and then all Questions about Him are ended.”
“This had better bin done the first day then now,” replied Sir
John, and went on to give another reason why he thought the
prospects of peace remote: “The King of France had many of the
Town’s and Fortresses of the King of Spaines in Possession, which
would hardly be deliverd’, and particularly France could not
abandon nor Spayn quitt Messina.”
“This is something,” said Ahmed.
“But Sir,” came from Finch, “now I think better of it, there is one
way which if it is taken an adjustment will questionlesse suddainly
follow.”
“What is that?”
“Your Excellency’s goeing once more as a Generall into Germany with
a Powerfull Army.”
“At which the Gran Vizir laughd’ profusely; and so Wee made a
friendly Parture.”[164]
Jubilant at such issue of his labours--not quite equal to the
best he had hoped, yet far above the worst that, in moments of
despondency, he had feared--our Ambassador returned to the camp
outside Karagatch; and drank his Majesty’s health in the double
bottle of sack he had saved up for the occasion.
Next morning he proceeded to draw up his report: not a syllable had
he yet written to the Secretary of State from Adrianople, reserving
all he had to say for the end. The letter (eighteen pages) is as
interesting as it is long, and not the least interest of it lies
in the light it throws upon the writer. The honours he received
are accented, while only the faintest allusion is made to the
Jew’s house; Kuprili’s affability is heavily underlined; the Grand
Signor’s ungraciousness is entirely suppressed; and the whole
of the ceremonial part of his mission is presented to the best
possible advantage. But it is when he comes to business that Sir
John shows how little free he was from the weakness of glorifying
his own achievements. He speaks of the “Five Moneths and some
dayes” spent on this negotiation and dwells upon the difficulties
and dangers it entailed: “I was never under a more tedious,
troublesome, and more perplexd’ Negotiation in my life.” But it was
worth it. Such Capitulations had never been known: “Taking them at
the worst and lett the lowest estimate passe which can be made of
them, yett I think, with modesty I may say, that they are farr the
greatest Present that ever was made to the Company since the first
forming of this Trade.”[165]
For this estimate Sir John had the authority of the crafty Rais
Effendi who affected wonder at his phenomenal success, “saying he
never knew the like before,”--“that I went away with an honour
No Ambassadour had ever receivd’ in this Court, which was the
having every Article granted me that I gave in writing”--this,
while admitting that one of the Articles had been so eviscerated
as to be worthless. Likewise as to the title of Padishah upon
which he had set his heart, that it proved unobtainable Sir John
could not deny; but he flattered himself that “it was not wholely
lost, for at another time it should be brought again,”--so “the
Kehayah assured me.” Such was Sir John’s capacity for believing
what he wished. In the same way, if he realised how much he owed
to others, he was not the man to admit the debt, even to himself.
His self-esteem was of that sensitive quality that the slightest
wound to it had to be carefully avoided. Not only in general terms
he attributes the whole of his success, under God (whom he duly
thanks), to his own resourcefulness, energy, and resolution, but
he specifically states that it was he who carried the point of the
Imperial autograph.[166] Perhaps if the Treasurer’s account had
not come down to us, the Ambassador’s claims would have been more
convincing. But that he himself was convinced that everything was
due to him and him alone can hardly be doubted. The Rais Effendi
had told him, “Two things, the first was that I came into this
Empire with a great stock of reputation in having bin able to doe
so much in Christendome for the Bassà of Tunis; but that I had
like to have forfeited it all by staying so long before I came
to Audience: The Court being putt upon resolutions to oppose my
Instances for that Neglect; But in the second place he told me my
way of Treaty had regaind them.”[167]
The “Bassà of Tunis”--yes, indeed, not the least of the results
of his trip to Adrianople that Sir John congratulated himself
upon was connected with that gentleman. The Vizir was so far from
countenancing the Pasha’s pretensions, that he publicly thanked
Finch for the service he had done, and sent the Pasha away to a
Governorship in the uttermost confines of Arabia. This curious
affair was not really over. Resentment had struck root so deeply
in the bosom of the Pasha of Tunis that afterwards it shot up and
flowered afresh, and grew into a noxious umbrage which was to
darken Sir John’s latter years. But of this Sir John knew nothing
at the time: he only knew that he had triumphed.
Thus ended the most adventurous and most important transaction Sir
John Finch had ever been engaged in. But his troubles had not yet
ended. Before he could get away, he had to take out Commands to
give effect to the new Articles, also to pay farewell visits to the
Kehayah and the Rais Effendi--to thank those worthies for their
help. In the houses of both the Plague was more rife than at the
Vizir’s; but he “must run the Gantlett.” Fortunately, “both did me
the Civility to appoint me a meeting in _luogo terzo_: the Kehaiah
at an Appartment of the Visir’s and the Rais Affendi at his Garden
House. A condiscension seldome practisd’ by any Turkes, especially
of so great a Figure.”
These “visits of congé” took place on September 16th. “The Kehaiah
was very melancholy, having that very morning buryed four out of
his house, two of which were his near kinswomen.” The Rais Effendi
felicitated Sir John on his release, saying that there never had
“bin in the memory of man known such a Plague in Adrianople.” At
one of these calls, two men with running sores stood for a full
quarter of an hour within a yard of the Ambassador: even the _luogo
terzo_ offered no security.[168]
The final departure for Constantinople was a hustling and
thoroughly undignified affair: all other considerations yielding
to that of self-preservation. Not only the ceremonies but the very
decencies of life were sacrificed, without scruple or shame, on the
altar of the primitive goddess who knows no law. At her behest all
those acquired habits fell away from our punctilious diplomat like
so many borrowed plumes.
After his leave-takings, the Ambassador went back to the tents,
where thirty carts had already arrived to load for the return
journey; and there, within twenty-four hours, five of his retinue
were stricken with the hideous pest. Sir John and Sir Thomas fled
incontinently to the village again, leaving the rest to shift for
themselves--and even leaving one of their Greek servants unburied
in the fields. The other Greek and Armenian servants, utterly
unable to appreciate this knightly conduct, mutinied and were going
up to the Ambassador’s cottage in a threatening tumult, when the
invaluable Mr. North came to the rescue, and quelled the riot.
After this, Sir John would not wait another minute. With the carts
already provided he set out, leaving his luggage to be sent after
him, and two of his Dragomans to receive the Commands which had
been promised.
But notwithstanding his haste, Sir John had not yet seen the end
of his woes. Just as he was starting, one of his carters dropped
dead beside his cart; and before he reached the first station, news
overtook him that a servant of one of the Dragomans left behind
had fallen sick. His anxiety on account of the long-suffering
and indispensable Dragomans increased as he went on, for though
they had both given him assurances to overtake him before the end
of the journey, he heard nothing from or of either of them for
weeks.[169]
All the way home our pilgrims felt miserable in a transcendent
degree. The road was full of the disease and full of robbers. To
escape the first peril, they shunned the towns and camped in the
open. Every day they sent their tents before them to be pitched at
the next _konak_. When they arrived there, they drew all the carts
and coaches around them, made a great fire, supped, and then lay
down to rest, as best they could, in their boots and clothes. But
though they themselves did not go into the towns, most of their
wagoners and servants did, so the danger of infection was, in a
measure, the same. As to the other danger, not a day passed but
they heard of some fresh exploit of the gangs that scoured the
country-side. These stories had a most deplorable effect upon their
nerves. They dared not straggle an inch from the road, and, the
Rev. John says, “a calf with a white face disheartened them all”;
observing thoughtfully, “if we had not had guards, it would have
been very easy cutting our throats.”[170]
In this dishevelled manner our friends journeyed back the way they
came, reaching their destination on September 27th.
It was a very weary ambassador who returned to Pera. But there
was no rest for him yet. The Plague raged at Constantinople as at
Adrianople. And that was not the worst. Two of his retinue, it
now appeared, had the disease all the way home undiscovered. One
of them, an Arab conductor of his litter, died the day after his
arrival. The other, a young footman who always was about Finch and
Baines, fell sick two days later in the Embassy. “I suspecting
it might be the Plague, sent him out of my House to be attended
by Armenians that are accustomd to it; and within two days the
Boy dyed of the Plague.” With wondrous agility both knights fled
to St. Demetrius Hill, which henceforth became Sir John’s summer
resort.[171]
Distressing as all this was, it might have been worse. Lord
Winchilsea had lost not only two servants, but also his
daughter, and fled from place to place--from Pera to Yarlikioi,
from Yarlikioi to Belgrade, from Belgrade to Zacharlikioi--in
“perplexity where to find security unless in the providence of
the Almighty,”--he fled with a wife in hourly expectation of a
child, pursued by “this disconsolate disease.” Sir John’s other
predecessor and kinsman, Harvey, on his way to Salonica had to
carry in his own coach a friend who had fallen sick of the Plague
on the road, “as longe as he was able to suffer the Journie,” and
“to leave him att last at a town,” in Macedonia, where he died.[172]
It was all in the day’s work.
FOOTNOTES:
[155] Finch to Coventry, Sept. 9, 1675.
[156] Covel’s _Diaries_, p. 246.
[157] _Life of Dudley North_, p. 111.
[158] Harvey to Williamson, Nov.... 1670, _S.P. Turkey_, 19;
Rycaut’s _Memoirs_, p. 318.
[159] Covel’s _Diaries_, p. 195.
[160] _Life of Dudley North_, p. 111; Rycaut’s _Memoirs_, pp. 327-8.
[161] _Life of Dudley North_, pp. 112-13, 116.
[162] Finch to Coventry, Sept. 9, 1675; _Life of Dudley North_, p.
113; Covel’s _Diaries_, pp. 272-3.
[163] “New Articles added to the Capitulations Renewed by Sr John
Finch Knt, and Deliver’d to His Excell^{cy} by the Hands of the
Gran Vizir In Adrianople, September the 8-18th 1675,” _Coventry
Papers_.
[164] Finch to Coventry, Sept. 9, 1675. The Rev. John mentions this
dialogue as taking place at the banquet of July 27. See _Diaries_,
p. 263.
[165] Finch to Coventry, Sept. 9, 1675. Seeing that Sir John did
not arrive at Adrianople till May 10, it is a little hard to
understand how he arrives at his “Five Moneths and some dayes.”
Dudley North also speaks of “our tedious Attendance at Adrianople,”
as having lasted “near five Months,” _Life_, p. 113. No doubt, to
them the time seemed longer than it was.
[166] See Appendix XI.
[167] Finch to Coventry, Oct. 6-16, 1675.
[168] The Same to the Same, Oct. 6-16, 1675. Cp. Covel’s _Diaries_,
p. 274.
[169] Finch to Coventry, Oct. 6-16, 1675.
[170] Covel’s _Diaries_, pp. 274-5.
[171] Finch to Coventry, Oct. 6-16, 1675.
[172] Winchilsea “Intelligence,” Aug. 24 [1661]; Harvey to
Arlington, Jan. 31, 1669 [-70], _S.P. Turkey_, 17 and 19.