Introduction
Francis Peter Werry was born in London on the 14th of March, 1788. He was the third son of Francis and Elizabeth Werry. It is usual at the commencement of Memoirs to give a history of the family, a custom I have always thought a remarkably tedious one, and shall, therefore, despatch what has to be said about the Werrys in as few words as possible. They came from Cornwall, and settled in Soutwark a few years before the death of Charles II., and were merchants and shipowners, commanding privateers under letters of marque. One was Deputy Master, and they were all successively Elder Brethren of Trinity House. John Werry was one of the projectors, and superintended the erection of the first Eddystone Lighthouse. Francis Werry was born on the 3rd of January, 1745; he has left some account of his childhood…
…After several voyages to China and India, he commanded the Tweed frigate, of 36 guns, a privateer, in the war with American colonies. In the year 1778, he made what was then considered a wonderfully rapid journey, from Constantinople to London, crossing the Balkan mountains, and delivering his dispatches at the Foreign Office on the twenty-ninth after leaving Pera! In the same year, he took the command of the King George, of 28 guns, 160 men, a privateer fitted out by the City of London, and captured two Spanish vessels, but surrendered on the 1st of August, to the French frigate Le Concord, 32, commanded by Le Chevalier Carditache, after a close and severe engagement of two hours, with the loss of 12 men, and 23 wounded. Captain Werry was taken to Corunna, and detained three years as prisoner of war. On his release he was elected by the Levant Company British Consul in Smyrna, and sailed for his destination on the 3rd May, 1793. He filled this office for more than thirty years, with credit to himself, and honour to his country. While speaking of Consul Werry, I am tempted to insert a few letters from remarkable persons, that may be of interest, and have never been made public.
From Admiral Lord Nelson to Mr. Consul Werry. Palermo, April 1, 1799
Dear Sir:
I have to request you will have the goodness to forward my letter to Constantinople, and I shall always be obliged if you have any news from Egypt, of the situation of the French and Turkish armies in that country, that you will let me know it, by the many ships which sail from Smyrna to Messina. The French took possession of Leghorn on the 24th, and I have no doubt we are to revolutionize Tuscany. This is the natural fruit of the conditions of Messrs Thutot and Manfredire: by their delay, and the war which the French have so long waged against their master, they have lost for the present both Naples and Tuscany. However, I now hope it may have the good effect that all the sovereigns in Europe will see the absolute necessity of a sincere coalition against these modern Goths. Naples has many loyal good people remaining in it, and is now closely blockaded by a part of my squadron.
We are anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Russian army, praying God they may soon come to us. A few thousand good troops to go forward with the local Calabrese would get to Naples in a week. I am, Dear Sir, Your most obedient servant,
Nelson.
p.26
It was six o’clock in the afternoon when I had the happiness of first putting my foot on Turkish territory, and of thus reaching in perfect health and safety the place of my destination, after a voyage of fifty-six days, this being 28th June [1803], whilst it was the 3rd of May when we sailed from the river Thames.
Saddle horses were waiting for us at the consulate, which we mounted; and, proceeded by a janissary, we started for the village of Boudjah, where my father was residing with his family. The way lay through part of the Frank street, which was broad enough for several horsemen to ride abreast: we then proceeded through several smaller streets, where our horses walked in a broad gutter, or small water-course running through the middle, the water running to a depth of half a foot, whilst on each side was an elevated pathway for foot passengers. Over this roofs projected, so as to protect the passengers from the sun and weather, being ornamented somewhat after the Chinese fashion. Two horses could pass each other with difficulty in these streets. The windows that overlooked us from above, I observed, had a kind of inner lattice; there were only shops at intervals, and kitchen offices or stables occupied the ground floors. Some of the passers-by exchanged greetings with our janissary. Our was now was for about half a mile along a broad high road, through the midst of a large cimitière, or Turkish burial ground; on each side were tombs, with a large cypress tree at the head and foot of each. This is the high road to Magnesia, to Brusa, and Constantinople. On coming to a bridge, called the caravan bridge, over a torrent – now dry – that runs by the side of the cemetery, we turned up a smaller road. I remarked by the side of the bridge a small neat hut with an earthen terrace, on the banks of the stream, shaded over by plane trees: here several Turks were gravely seated cross-legged on mats, smoking their long pipes, and drinking Mocha coffee out of small cups, the size of half an egg-shell; playing at chess, and enjoying the cool air of the evening. On passing this group, our road wound round the side of the mountain, in the bed of the stream, among stones of an uncommon size, that must have been washed out of the sides of the mountain by the winter rains. We then ascended for more than half an hour a very steep hill, having vineyards on our right hand, and the deep bed of the stream beneath us. On reaching the summit, we found that an aqueduct traversed our road, coming along low hills on the north of us. We passed under its arches, and continued our way through the low hills covered with green underwood. On our right was a plain running from the east, having a beautifully picturesque range of mountains for its southern boundary. Before us the hills along which we rode sloped down to a small plain, and we could now see quite distinctly extended below us, the large and straggling village of Boudjah, to which we were directing our course, and where my father had his country house.
Some towering cypress trees, and an adjoining mosque, a Christian church, some large houses and extensive gardens, were the most prominent objects. At the back of it were hills similar to those we had ridden over, whilst in the distance the lofty mountain of the Tartarlee Dagh, with its bold, but naked summit, astonished our vision, and terminated the scene and our terrestrial thoughts and fancies, by exalting them on high unto the celestial mansions.
We soon descended into the plain, and reached the village of Boudjah. After ten minutes’ ride through the principal street, between houses and vineyards of the Greek and Armenian merchants, we alighted from our horses at the gate of the vineyard adjoining my father’s country house. On entering this gate, in the centre walk of the vineyard, I met my father and my mother!
It was now ten years since I had seen them. On my father receiving me into his arms, I recognised him, and remembered, when I was a very little boy at my grand-father’s at Sawbridgeworth, his coming behind me, and helping me to hang up my cap upon a peg that I could not reach myself. His features at that moment now came back vividly to my memory. It took me longer to recognise the person of my mother, although I could remember much more of her than my father. My elder brother Nathaniel had gone on horseback to meet us, and we had met him on coming out of Smyrna. I remembered him directly, but I could not at first recognise either my brother Gregory or my sister, though I remembered all about their juvenile days and games. I will leave the reader to imagine the happiness we all experienced, for words cannot explain or describe it. I could scarcely close my eyes all night, for the excitement of feeling I experienced. Remembrances of my childhood came back to me so vividly in thinking of my parents, and brothers and sisters, I scarcely knew whether I was in Epping Forest, or at Sawbridgeworth in Hertfordshire, or in this village in Asia Minor, or still on board the Enterprize, ploughing the wide ocean.
Besides the members of the family whom I have already mentioned, I found another whom I had not previously known – a boy of about ten years of age, the playfellow of my young sister, the last child of my father and mother – who had been born at Smyrna, and christened John Joseph Augustus; but whom the family generally called Jonicho, or little John. He replaced my eldest and ever-beloved brother John in his mother’s affections, and consequently became a very great favourite with my father.
This boy spoke Greek to the female Greek servants of the house, and Turkish to the Armenian butler, grooms, and gardener, and when in town with the Turkish soldiers or janissaries on duty at the Consulate, and English to us, in which, however, he was not so proficient as in the other languages. His nurse composed him to sleep of a night by long stories, or Paramethia (Πapaµtπaι), for which, and the avocation of nurses, the women of Tino and Miconi celebrated. He and my young sister had a preceptor or tutor, who lived in the house. This gentleman was of a noble Genoese family, who had been obliged to quit his country on the French invading Italy, and to whom my father afforded an asylum. I also became one of his pupils, and studied French and Italian under him. His name was Reggio; he was a learned and gentleman-like man, and I owe him many thanks for his patient instruction and amiable manners. I myself had also, after a few days, to give lessons in English to my young brother and sister, who knew far less of our native language than of Greek and Turkish; though they attended the school over which the chaplain of the factory presided, the Rev. Mr. Usko, a man of vast knowledge and learning, who had travelled through the Holy Land, Syria, and Egypt, and who now resided in the village of Boudjah, in a beautiful spot, adjoining a large Tarbal, or Park.
The day after my arrival, the merchants and their families living at Boudjah, and the other principal persons there, waited on my father and mother, to congratulate them on the safe arrival of their son. Coffee in small cups, placed in beautifully worked filigree silver strands, was handed round by the attendants, in the Oriental fashion, with iced water and sweetmeats, while a great deal of ceremonious, complimentary discourse took place, the ladies mostly speaking only Greek or Italian. The weather was now very hot, the grapes in the vineyards being nearly ripe. The house, though rather small, was commodious enough; the drawing-rooms were on the ground floor, opening on a court, amply shaded by two venerable mulberry trees; among these a beautiful parrot used often to stray, escaping from his perch in the adjoining apartments, and by his shrieks, laughter, and chatterings, and the flapping of his extended wings, seemed to participate in the general rejoicing. However, neither I nor my brother Gregory ever enjoyed his favour, for he would always take every opportunity of climbing up the backs of one of our chairs, at dinner or supper, and throw himself on to the back of our necks, grasping the flesh with his sharp beak, with such tenacity, that it was with difficulty the servants could disengage him. He used to get much exasperated at our laughing at him, and would follow us about pertinaciously, and bit so hard, that I have had the scars from his beak ever since. He was all the while most friendly and familiar with all the other members of the family.
In returning the visits of the families of Boudjah, I was much struck with the magnitute and stately appearance of the plane trees, adorning the courtyards and gateways of most of the houses, and the open spots of the village. Their foliage, which is wonderfully beautiful, afforded a most grateful shade from the scorching rays of the sun. The hospitality, courteousness, and easy intercourse of these good people of Boudjah, delighted me. The house adjoining our’s, occupied by a Mrs. Franel, an elderly widow lady, and the godmother of my youngest brother, appeared to me one of the most beautiful residences possible to imagine. A vast plane tree overshadowed its large stone gateway, through which we entered a large quadrangular court, shaded by several smaller plane trees; this was surrounded on three sides by the house itself, a charming edifice, with pilastered porticoes, overhung with a beautiful projecting roof, of Oriental work, somewhat like Chinese, that excluded the rays of the sun, and communicated with the various apartments, the drawing, dining, and tea and breakfast rooms, which opened into this portico, with double folding doors. The other side of the quadrangle opened into the garden and vineyard, by lattice-work gates. In this beautiful retirement lived Mrs. Franel, her niece Miss Baron, and an old Italian widow lady, a Mrs. Foster; they were very intimate with my father and mother, who passed many of their leisure hours in their agreeable society. Mrs. Foster took a peculiar liking to me and my sister, and her great delight was to show us both every kind of attention and friendship; she spoke Italian with a strong Tuscan accent. The partner of Mrs. Franel’s late husband, a Mr. Jackson, still carried on the business of the firm, assisted by her nephew, a Mr. Baron; they both used to come down at the end of the week, and stay with these ladies until Monday or Tuesday.
Among those who came to congratulate me on my arrival, was the Aga, or Turkish magistrate of the village, whose house adjoined our vineyard. I afterwards knew him very well. He was a plain, unaffected , unassuming man, a soldier, very brave, and, what is rarer among that class of men, he was an honest, and I believe, a good man. He had a small military guard at his house, adjoining to which was a small mosque, surrounded by melancholy and solemn cypress trees.
In affrays with the lawless and turbulent troops, that at times ventured upon depredations in his small district, he had been twice badly wounded: once his face had been cut so severely by the blow of a sabre, as to divide his nose lengthways, completely in two, which, however, grew together again, though leaving a deep scar, that gave him a severe and terrific appearance; on another occasion he was shot through the body. His horses, which are kept saddled and bridled night and day, in the stable, seem to hold their master’s injuries in resentful remembrance: they were picqueted in the courtyard, and would not allow us to approach them, rearing up, biting, kicking, and snorting in a wonderful manner. We ascended a wooden ladder-like staircase to his apartments, where in the corridor were suspended the matchlocks of his soldiers. He received us with great simplicity, and in a friendly, kind manner. After we had taken our seats with him on his sofa, we were presented with long pipes, and coffee. He was very taciturn, but conversed with my father about an aqueduct, by means of which the Consul had engaged to supply the village with fresh and excellent water, from the neighbouring mountains. It had cost my father a large sum of money to defray the expenses of this work; and to protect his property in it, he and the Aga had met with considerable difficulties from the Turkish authorities at Constantinople. The water is of the most beautiful quality possible, being of delightful flavour, extremely cold, limpid and clear, and will be of great service to the village of Boudjah, where there are but few wells, and those liable to become dry in the great heat of summer. We took our leave of the Aga after some conversation as to the negotiations at Constantinople, and as to a security for the European property expended in this useful undertaking.
Having passed a few more days in this delightful village, we all repaired to Smyrna, my father having been obliged to go there to transact the business of his office.
Smyrna, 1803 – The house in which the Consul now resides is situated in one of the largest streets of the Greek quarter, almost adjoining that of the Armenians. The houses of this street are tolerably large, but their ground floors, that look to the street, are mostly occupied by shoemakers. These artisans celebrate with great regularity and zeal every saint’s day and holiday in their calendar; and as these, in the Greek calendar, are very numerous, they are obliged to recover the time they have thus deducted from their labour, by sitting up all night and working at their trade. The noise of the hammering, and beating, on a large round stone, the soles of the shoes and the leather they prepare, is then heard throughout the whole street, and resounds up into the Consul’s residence, keeping the inmates awake, sometimes, for hours together. This vexes the Consul considerably, and often causes him to break out into invectives against these people, for thus rendering their honest calling a nuisance to their neighbours, by their unseasonable nocturnal hammering. As in the daytime on these occasions they very frequently get a few glasses too much wine, disturbances sometimes occur between them and the Mahometans, who, seeing them rather fresh with wine, are apt to pull their caps off, or take their nosegays away, or play other tricks with them, that call at last for the intervention of the police.
The Consul’s house had a square court-yard within it, in which, during the cool of the evening, his saddle-horses were picqueted. At the gate was a guard of four janissaries, always on duty. They had suitable accommodation; but, in the daytime, they sat on benches within the porch; where also, at times, the Armenian interpreters used to bear them company. These interpreters, or dolmatchees, or dragomen, as they are indifferently called, were engaged when communications were necessary with the governor of the city, the officers of the council, the heads of the custom, or excise offices, and other official authorities. There were four of them, - two senior and two junior. They had also to translate and copy all kinds of documents and official instruments relating to the government, the merchants, or the shipping. The janissaries were engaged in escorting any of our officers who required to visit the Turkish quarter of the city, in bearing dispatches to the local authorities, or to Constantinople; and in generally preserving order in the neighbourhood of the Consul’s house. They spoke no other language than Turkish. The interpreters spoke Italian to us, Turkish to the Turks, and were also proficient in Arabic and Persian; with both of which languages the ceremonious conversation of the higher order of Turks is considerably intermixed. The forms of speech used at court being almost all Persian; whilst the language of the clergy and officers of law is almost exclusively Arabic.
The apartments of this house were on one story, surrounded by a corridor looking into the square court yard, and were tolerably commodious; a terrace adjoined them, affording a view into the street, inhabited by the noisy disciples of St. Crispin.
The regular Consular establishment was burned to the ground a few years ago, together with the whole of the Frank street, and most of the European quarter of the city. This catastrophe arose in consequence of a quarrel between the janissaries, who were in attendance at a private theatre, erected by the Ragusan Consul for the amusement of the European families; in this affray one or two of the janissaries were killed. The quarrel was then taken up by the regiments of the Ortas, to which the slain men had belonged; who demanded redress for this outrage, and threatened to take up arms and revenge the insult their body had sustained. At this time a man called Bouladan-lee was the governor of Smyrna; who bore an extremely bad character, not only on account of his hatred to the Christians and Europeans generally, but also in his relations with his own countrymen. He appeared to take delight in doing all he could to excite this commotion. The janissaries now proceeded to threaten the Europeans, generally, with vengeance; and Bouladan-lee, instead of taking any measures, either to overawe them, or to appease the injured parties, rather fanned the flames of discord. There was not a single ship of war of any European power in the harbour; and Mr. Consul Werry not having then the great experience he afterwards acquired, determined to resist the hostile proceedings by force; finding that the whole of the janissaries in the Turk town, were coming down upon the European quarter, armed, and evidently with hostile intentions, the Ragusan sailors were landed, armed with long muskets, and were stationed in the wine shops and taverns adjoining the British Consul’s house, the other Europeans snatching up whatever arms they could, collected together in the warehouses and taverns on the quay. After fruitless expostulations, the Turkish soldiers, being now reinforced by Bouladan-lee in person, with four hundred of his bodyguard, fired upon the Europeans, and received in return a galling and destructive fire from the Ragusans. They then, in revenge, set fire to the wine shops and warehouses, in which the Europeans were ambushed; and as a strong wind was prevailing at the time, it drove the flames towards the Christian quarter; and before many hours, the whole of the Frank street, and most of the European part of the town, lay in ashes. The soldiers of Bouladan-lee murdered several hundred unoffending and terrified Greek shopkeepers, plundering and burning all they came near; while their commander excited and encouraged them and the exasperated janissaries in their madness and fury. They were held in check some time by the Ragusan sailors, who kept up a destructive fire upon them, and thus enabled the European merchants and their families to get on board some of the ships in the harbour. The British Consul’s janissaries, too, behaved nobly; keeping the assailants at bay by desperate sallies, and protecting, with partial success, their master’s and his neighbours’ property. They succeeded in embarking the money-chests and books, belonging to Messrs. Frunel and Jackson; but were almost immediately afterwards obliged to retreat into the Consul’s house. The flames, however, soon reaching it, and the number of assailants increasing, Mr. Consul Werry was obliged to embark his family in boats, with whatever valuables and papers he could hastily collect; and to repair on board one of the merchant ships at anchor in the bay, from whence he witnessed with grief and indignation the conflagration of the whole European quarter of the city.
The end of this sad affair was, that on Mr. Consul Werry refusing to hold any communication with the city, until a superior officer to the Governor had arrived, intelligence of these proceedings was forwarded to Magnesia, where the head of the family of Kar-Osman-Ogler [Karaosmanoğlu] resides. This is one of the most ancient families of Asia Minor, and has for centuries governed some of its provinces. The present representative of the family was Hadji Omar Aga, now interposed, collecting a body of infantry form among the peasantry, called Seipecks [Saypa]; and with the cavalry at his immediate disposal, amounting to altogether to nearly 20,000 men, he marched to Smyrna and took possession of the city. He at once sent for the Foreign Consuls, to express his sorrow and indignation at the outrages of the Governor and janissaries, and earnestly entreated them and the merchants to land. This, however, Mr. Consul Werry, in the name of his colleages, refused to do, until condign punishment had been inflicted on the ringleaders of the late disturbance; whereupon eight of the most prominent and culpable of the insurgents were immediately seized, and after a summary trial by a military court, to which their own laws made them amenable, they were executed in the Turkish fashion; being strangled with a bowstring in the Frank street, right opposite, I was told, to the British Consul’s house. Others were exiled, and at last order and tranquillity was restored. No notice appears to have been taken of the principal criminal, Bouladan-lee; who did not, however, long survive these events. He was furiously exasperated against my father, and swore that he would kill him; but God gave him not into his hand. My mother has often pointed out to me, with great satisfaction, his grave, near the caravan bridge, as we have ridden by together, under the gloomy cypress trees.
BML 10817.c.19.
Francis Peter Werry was born in London on the 14th of March, 1788. He was the third son of Francis and Elizabeth Werry. It is usual at the commencement of Memoirs to give a history of the family, a custom I have always thought a remarkably tedious one, and shall, therefore, despatch what has to be said about the Werrys in as few words as possible. They came from Cornwall, and settled in Soutwark a few years before the death of Charles II., and were merchants and shipowners, commanding privateers under letters of marque. One was Deputy Master, and they were all successively Elder Brethren of Trinity House. John Werry was one of the projectors, and superintended the erection of the first Eddystone Lighthouse. Francis Werry was born on the 3rd of January, 1745; he has left some account of his childhood…
…After several voyages to China and India, he commanded the Tweed frigate, of 36 guns, a privateer, in the war with American colonies. In the year 1778, he made what was then considered a wonderfully rapid journey, from Constantinople to London, crossing the Balkan mountains, and delivering his dispatches at the Foreign Office on the twenty-ninth after leaving Pera! In the same year, he took the command of the King George, of 28 guns, 160 men, a privateer fitted out by the City of London, and captured two Spanish vessels, but surrendered on the 1st of August, to the French frigate Le Concord, 32, commanded by Le Chevalier Carditache, after a close and severe engagement of two hours, with the loss of 12 men, and 23 wounded. Captain Werry was taken to Corunna, and detained three years as prisoner of war. On his release he was elected by the Levant Company British Consul in Smyrna, and sailed for his destination on the 3rd May, 1793. He filled this office for more than thirty years, with credit to himself, and honour to his country. While speaking of Consul Werry, I am tempted to insert a few letters from remarkable persons, that may be of interest, and have never been made public.
From Admiral Lord Nelson to Mr. Consul Werry. Palermo, April 1, 1799
Dear Sir:
I have to request you will have the goodness to forward my letter to Constantinople, and I shall always be obliged if you have any news from Egypt, of the situation of the French and Turkish armies in that country, that you will let me know it, by the many ships which sail from Smyrna to Messina. The French took possession of Leghorn on the 24th, and I have no doubt we are to revolutionize Tuscany. This is the natural fruit of the conditions of Messrs Thutot and Manfredire: by their delay, and the war which the French have so long waged against their master, they have lost for the present both Naples and Tuscany. However, I now hope it may have the good effect that all the sovereigns in Europe will see the absolute necessity of a sincere coalition against these modern Goths. Naples has many loyal good people remaining in it, and is now closely blockaded by a part of my squadron.
We are anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Russian army, praying God they may soon come to us. A few thousand good troops to go forward with the local Calabrese would get to Naples in a week. I am, Dear Sir, Your most obedient servant,
Nelson.
p.26
It was six o’clock in the afternoon when I had the happiness of first putting my foot on Turkish territory, and of thus reaching in perfect health and safety the place of my destination, after a voyage of fifty-six days, this being 28th June [1803], whilst it was the 3rd of May when we sailed from the river Thames.
Saddle horses were waiting for us at the consulate, which we mounted; and, proceeded by a janissary, we started for the village of Boudjah, where my father was residing with his family. The way lay through part of the Frank street, which was broad enough for several horsemen to ride abreast: we then proceeded through several smaller streets, where our horses walked in a broad gutter, or small water-course running through the middle, the water running to a depth of half a foot, whilst on each side was an elevated pathway for foot passengers. Over this roofs projected, so as to protect the passengers from the sun and weather, being ornamented somewhat after the Chinese fashion. Two horses could pass each other with difficulty in these streets. The windows that overlooked us from above, I observed, had a kind of inner lattice; there were only shops at intervals, and kitchen offices or stables occupied the ground floors. Some of the passers-by exchanged greetings with our janissary. Our was now was for about half a mile along a broad high road, through the midst of a large cimitière, or Turkish burial ground; on each side were tombs, with a large cypress tree at the head and foot of each. This is the high road to Magnesia, to Brusa, and Constantinople. On coming to a bridge, called the caravan bridge, over a torrent – now dry – that runs by the side of the cemetery, we turned up a smaller road. I remarked by the side of the bridge a small neat hut with an earthen terrace, on the banks of the stream, shaded over by plane trees: here several Turks were gravely seated cross-legged on mats, smoking their long pipes, and drinking Mocha coffee out of small cups, the size of half an egg-shell; playing at chess, and enjoying the cool air of the evening. On passing this group, our road wound round the side of the mountain, in the bed of the stream, among stones of an uncommon size, that must have been washed out of the sides of the mountain by the winter rains. We then ascended for more than half an hour a very steep hill, having vineyards on our right hand, and the deep bed of the stream beneath us. On reaching the summit, we found that an aqueduct traversed our road, coming along low hills on the north of us. We passed under its arches, and continued our way through the low hills covered with green underwood. On our right was a plain running from the east, having a beautifully picturesque range of mountains for its southern boundary. Before us the hills along which we rode sloped down to a small plain, and we could now see quite distinctly extended below us, the large and straggling village of Boudjah, to which we were directing our course, and where my father had his country house.
Some towering cypress trees, and an adjoining mosque, a Christian church, some large houses and extensive gardens, were the most prominent objects. At the back of it were hills similar to those we had ridden over, whilst in the distance the lofty mountain of the Tartarlee Dagh, with its bold, but naked summit, astonished our vision, and terminated the scene and our terrestrial thoughts and fancies, by exalting them on high unto the celestial mansions.
We soon descended into the plain, and reached the village of Boudjah. After ten minutes’ ride through the principal street, between houses and vineyards of the Greek and Armenian merchants, we alighted from our horses at the gate of the vineyard adjoining my father’s country house. On entering this gate, in the centre walk of the vineyard, I met my father and my mother!
It was now ten years since I had seen them. On my father receiving me into his arms, I recognised him, and remembered, when I was a very little boy at my grand-father’s at Sawbridgeworth, his coming behind me, and helping me to hang up my cap upon a peg that I could not reach myself. His features at that moment now came back vividly to my memory. It took me longer to recognise the person of my mother, although I could remember much more of her than my father. My elder brother Nathaniel had gone on horseback to meet us, and we had met him on coming out of Smyrna. I remembered him directly, but I could not at first recognise either my brother Gregory or my sister, though I remembered all about their juvenile days and games. I will leave the reader to imagine the happiness we all experienced, for words cannot explain or describe it. I could scarcely close my eyes all night, for the excitement of feeling I experienced. Remembrances of my childhood came back to me so vividly in thinking of my parents, and brothers and sisters, I scarcely knew whether I was in Epping Forest, or at Sawbridgeworth in Hertfordshire, or in this village in Asia Minor, or still on board the Enterprize, ploughing the wide ocean.
Besides the members of the family whom I have already mentioned, I found another whom I had not previously known – a boy of about ten years of age, the playfellow of my young sister, the last child of my father and mother – who had been born at Smyrna, and christened John Joseph Augustus; but whom the family generally called Jonicho, or little John. He replaced my eldest and ever-beloved brother John in his mother’s affections, and consequently became a very great favourite with my father.
This boy spoke Greek to the female Greek servants of the house, and Turkish to the Armenian butler, grooms, and gardener, and when in town with the Turkish soldiers or janissaries on duty at the Consulate, and English to us, in which, however, he was not so proficient as in the other languages. His nurse composed him to sleep of a night by long stories, or Paramethia (Πapaµtπaι), for which, and the avocation of nurses, the women of Tino and Miconi celebrated. He and my young sister had a preceptor or tutor, who lived in the house. This gentleman was of a noble Genoese family, who had been obliged to quit his country on the French invading Italy, and to whom my father afforded an asylum. I also became one of his pupils, and studied French and Italian under him. His name was Reggio; he was a learned and gentleman-like man, and I owe him many thanks for his patient instruction and amiable manners. I myself had also, after a few days, to give lessons in English to my young brother and sister, who knew far less of our native language than of Greek and Turkish; though they attended the school over which the chaplain of the factory presided, the Rev. Mr. Usko, a man of vast knowledge and learning, who had travelled through the Holy Land, Syria, and Egypt, and who now resided in the village of Boudjah, in a beautiful spot, adjoining a large Tarbal, or Park.
The day after my arrival, the merchants and their families living at Boudjah, and the other principal persons there, waited on my father and mother, to congratulate them on the safe arrival of their son. Coffee in small cups, placed in beautifully worked filigree silver strands, was handed round by the attendants, in the Oriental fashion, with iced water and sweetmeats, while a great deal of ceremonious, complimentary discourse took place, the ladies mostly speaking only Greek or Italian. The weather was now very hot, the grapes in the vineyards being nearly ripe. The house, though rather small, was commodious enough; the drawing-rooms were on the ground floor, opening on a court, amply shaded by two venerable mulberry trees; among these a beautiful parrot used often to stray, escaping from his perch in the adjoining apartments, and by his shrieks, laughter, and chatterings, and the flapping of his extended wings, seemed to participate in the general rejoicing. However, neither I nor my brother Gregory ever enjoyed his favour, for he would always take every opportunity of climbing up the backs of one of our chairs, at dinner or supper, and throw himself on to the back of our necks, grasping the flesh with his sharp beak, with such tenacity, that it was with difficulty the servants could disengage him. He used to get much exasperated at our laughing at him, and would follow us about pertinaciously, and bit so hard, that I have had the scars from his beak ever since. He was all the while most friendly and familiar with all the other members of the family.
In returning the visits of the families of Boudjah, I was much struck with the magnitute and stately appearance of the plane trees, adorning the courtyards and gateways of most of the houses, and the open spots of the village. Their foliage, which is wonderfully beautiful, afforded a most grateful shade from the scorching rays of the sun. The hospitality, courteousness, and easy intercourse of these good people of Boudjah, delighted me. The house adjoining our’s, occupied by a Mrs. Franel, an elderly widow lady, and the godmother of my youngest brother, appeared to me one of the most beautiful residences possible to imagine. A vast plane tree overshadowed its large stone gateway, through which we entered a large quadrangular court, shaded by several smaller plane trees; this was surrounded on three sides by the house itself, a charming edifice, with pilastered porticoes, overhung with a beautiful projecting roof, of Oriental work, somewhat like Chinese, that excluded the rays of the sun, and communicated with the various apartments, the drawing, dining, and tea and breakfast rooms, which opened into this portico, with double folding doors. The other side of the quadrangle opened into the garden and vineyard, by lattice-work gates. In this beautiful retirement lived Mrs. Franel, her niece Miss Baron, and an old Italian widow lady, a Mrs. Foster; they were very intimate with my father and mother, who passed many of their leisure hours in their agreeable society. Mrs. Foster took a peculiar liking to me and my sister, and her great delight was to show us both every kind of attention and friendship; she spoke Italian with a strong Tuscan accent. The partner of Mrs. Franel’s late husband, a Mr. Jackson, still carried on the business of the firm, assisted by her nephew, a Mr. Baron; they both used to come down at the end of the week, and stay with these ladies until Monday or Tuesday.
Among those who came to congratulate me on my arrival, was the Aga, or Turkish magistrate of the village, whose house adjoined our vineyard. I afterwards knew him very well. He was a plain, unaffected , unassuming man, a soldier, very brave, and, what is rarer among that class of men, he was an honest, and I believe, a good man. He had a small military guard at his house, adjoining to which was a small mosque, surrounded by melancholy and solemn cypress trees.
In affrays with the lawless and turbulent troops, that at times ventured upon depredations in his small district, he had been twice badly wounded: once his face had been cut so severely by the blow of a sabre, as to divide his nose lengthways, completely in two, which, however, grew together again, though leaving a deep scar, that gave him a severe and terrific appearance; on another occasion he was shot through the body. His horses, which are kept saddled and bridled night and day, in the stable, seem to hold their master’s injuries in resentful remembrance: they were picqueted in the courtyard, and would not allow us to approach them, rearing up, biting, kicking, and snorting in a wonderful manner. We ascended a wooden ladder-like staircase to his apartments, where in the corridor were suspended the matchlocks of his soldiers. He received us with great simplicity, and in a friendly, kind manner. After we had taken our seats with him on his sofa, we were presented with long pipes, and coffee. He was very taciturn, but conversed with my father about an aqueduct, by means of which the Consul had engaged to supply the village with fresh and excellent water, from the neighbouring mountains. It had cost my father a large sum of money to defray the expenses of this work; and to protect his property in it, he and the Aga had met with considerable difficulties from the Turkish authorities at Constantinople. The water is of the most beautiful quality possible, being of delightful flavour, extremely cold, limpid and clear, and will be of great service to the village of Boudjah, where there are but few wells, and those liable to become dry in the great heat of summer. We took our leave of the Aga after some conversation as to the negotiations at Constantinople, and as to a security for the European property expended in this useful undertaking.
Having passed a few more days in this delightful village, we all repaired to Smyrna, my father having been obliged to go there to transact the business of his office.
Smyrna, 1803 – The house in which the Consul now resides is situated in one of the largest streets of the Greek quarter, almost adjoining that of the Armenians. The houses of this street are tolerably large, but their ground floors, that look to the street, are mostly occupied by shoemakers. These artisans celebrate with great regularity and zeal every saint’s day and holiday in their calendar; and as these, in the Greek calendar, are very numerous, they are obliged to recover the time they have thus deducted from their labour, by sitting up all night and working at their trade. The noise of the hammering, and beating, on a large round stone, the soles of the shoes and the leather they prepare, is then heard throughout the whole street, and resounds up into the Consul’s residence, keeping the inmates awake, sometimes, for hours together. This vexes the Consul considerably, and often causes him to break out into invectives against these people, for thus rendering their honest calling a nuisance to their neighbours, by their unseasonable nocturnal hammering. As in the daytime on these occasions they very frequently get a few glasses too much wine, disturbances sometimes occur between them and the Mahometans, who, seeing them rather fresh with wine, are apt to pull their caps off, or take their nosegays away, or play other tricks with them, that call at last for the intervention of the police.
The Consul’s house had a square court-yard within it, in which, during the cool of the evening, his saddle-horses were picqueted. At the gate was a guard of four janissaries, always on duty. They had suitable accommodation; but, in the daytime, they sat on benches within the porch; where also, at times, the Armenian interpreters used to bear them company. These interpreters, or dolmatchees, or dragomen, as they are indifferently called, were engaged when communications were necessary with the governor of the city, the officers of the council, the heads of the custom, or excise offices, and other official authorities. There were four of them, - two senior and two junior. They had also to translate and copy all kinds of documents and official instruments relating to the government, the merchants, or the shipping. The janissaries were engaged in escorting any of our officers who required to visit the Turkish quarter of the city, in bearing dispatches to the local authorities, or to Constantinople; and in generally preserving order in the neighbourhood of the Consul’s house. They spoke no other language than Turkish. The interpreters spoke Italian to us, Turkish to the Turks, and were also proficient in Arabic and Persian; with both of which languages the ceremonious conversation of the higher order of Turks is considerably intermixed. The forms of speech used at court being almost all Persian; whilst the language of the clergy and officers of law is almost exclusively Arabic.
The apartments of this house were on one story, surrounded by a corridor looking into the square court yard, and were tolerably commodious; a terrace adjoined them, affording a view into the street, inhabited by the noisy disciples of St. Crispin.
The regular Consular establishment was burned to the ground a few years ago, together with the whole of the Frank street, and most of the European quarter of the city. This catastrophe arose in consequence of a quarrel between the janissaries, who were in attendance at a private theatre, erected by the Ragusan Consul for the amusement of the European families; in this affray one or two of the janissaries were killed. The quarrel was then taken up by the regiments of the Ortas, to which the slain men had belonged; who demanded redress for this outrage, and threatened to take up arms and revenge the insult their body had sustained. At this time a man called Bouladan-lee was the governor of Smyrna; who bore an extremely bad character, not only on account of his hatred to the Christians and Europeans generally, but also in his relations with his own countrymen. He appeared to take delight in doing all he could to excite this commotion. The janissaries now proceeded to threaten the Europeans, generally, with vengeance; and Bouladan-lee, instead of taking any measures, either to overawe them, or to appease the injured parties, rather fanned the flames of discord. There was not a single ship of war of any European power in the harbour; and Mr. Consul Werry not having then the great experience he afterwards acquired, determined to resist the hostile proceedings by force; finding that the whole of the janissaries in the Turk town, were coming down upon the European quarter, armed, and evidently with hostile intentions, the Ragusan sailors were landed, armed with long muskets, and were stationed in the wine shops and taverns adjoining the British Consul’s house, the other Europeans snatching up whatever arms they could, collected together in the warehouses and taverns on the quay. After fruitless expostulations, the Turkish soldiers, being now reinforced by Bouladan-lee in person, with four hundred of his bodyguard, fired upon the Europeans, and received in return a galling and destructive fire from the Ragusans. They then, in revenge, set fire to the wine shops and warehouses, in which the Europeans were ambushed; and as a strong wind was prevailing at the time, it drove the flames towards the Christian quarter; and before many hours, the whole of the Frank street, and most of the European part of the town, lay in ashes. The soldiers of Bouladan-lee murdered several hundred unoffending and terrified Greek shopkeepers, plundering and burning all they came near; while their commander excited and encouraged them and the exasperated janissaries in their madness and fury. They were held in check some time by the Ragusan sailors, who kept up a destructive fire upon them, and thus enabled the European merchants and their families to get on board some of the ships in the harbour. The British Consul’s janissaries, too, behaved nobly; keeping the assailants at bay by desperate sallies, and protecting, with partial success, their master’s and his neighbours’ property. They succeeded in embarking the money-chests and books, belonging to Messrs. Frunel and Jackson; but were almost immediately afterwards obliged to retreat into the Consul’s house. The flames, however, soon reaching it, and the number of assailants increasing, Mr. Consul Werry was obliged to embark his family in boats, with whatever valuables and papers he could hastily collect; and to repair on board one of the merchant ships at anchor in the bay, from whence he witnessed with grief and indignation the conflagration of the whole European quarter of the city.
The end of this sad affair was, that on Mr. Consul Werry refusing to hold any communication with the city, until a superior officer to the Governor had arrived, intelligence of these proceedings was forwarded to Magnesia, where the head of the family of Kar-Osman-Ogler [Karaosmanoğlu] resides. This is one of the most ancient families of Asia Minor, and has for centuries governed some of its provinces. The present representative of the family was Hadji Omar Aga, now interposed, collecting a body of infantry form among the peasantry, called Seipecks [Saypa]; and with the cavalry at his immediate disposal, amounting to altogether to nearly 20,000 men, he marched to Smyrna and took possession of the city. He at once sent for the Foreign Consuls, to express his sorrow and indignation at the outrages of the Governor and janissaries, and earnestly entreated them and the merchants to land. This, however, Mr. Consul Werry, in the name of his colleages, refused to do, until condign punishment had been inflicted on the ringleaders of the late disturbance; whereupon eight of the most prominent and culpable of the insurgents were immediately seized, and after a summary trial by a military court, to which their own laws made them amenable, they were executed in the Turkish fashion; being strangled with a bowstring in the Frank street, right opposite, I was told, to the British Consul’s house. Others were exiled, and at last order and tranquillity was restored. No notice appears to have been taken of the principal criminal, Bouladan-lee; who did not, however, long survive these events. He was furiously exasperated against my father, and swore that he would kill him; but God gave him not into his hand. My mother has often pointed out to me, with great satisfaction, his grave, near the caravan bridge, as we have ridden by together, under the gloomy cypress trees.
BML 10817.c.19.