SMYRNA IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY
by A.C. Wratislaw, C.B., C.M.G. C.B.E.
The Chevalier Laurent d’Arvieux, “Envoy Extraordinary of the King of France to the Porte, and Consul at Aleppo, Algiers, Tripoli, and other ports of the Levant”, died in 1702, but the Memoirs in which he described his travels and experiences were not published until 1735, when the Reverend Jean Baptiste Labat, of the Order of Preaching Brothers, gave them to the world in six volumes. The Chevalier, as we learn from his editor’s preface, belonged to a noble but improvished family of Provence which originated in Lombardy, had branches in other parts of France and, according to Père Labat, even in England, where the Italian family name of “Arveo” was transformed into Harvey. In France it passed through the successive metamorphoses of Arveou, Arvieu, Arvieux, and finally d’Arvieux on the family being ennobled, which occured eleven generations before the author of the Memoirs appeared on the scene.
These Memoirs are particularly interesting, as they relate to a period which is not over-rich in records of the Ottoman Empire. Their author, a keen and extremely curious observer, resided in the course of his long life abroad at Smyrna, in Syria, Palestine, Egypt, and the Barbary coast [modern Algeria / Tunisia], and though he does not expressly say so, must have kept careful notes of what he saw and experienced, for no memory, however active, could possibly have supplied the wealth of detail contained in his three thousand pages unless aided by written records. It is impossible to compress within the limits of a single article an adequate summary of journeyings in so many countries and spread over so many years, but the following account of the conditions prevailing in Smyrna - the first part of Turkey he visited - may be of interest in view of the contest at present raging between Turk and Greek for the possession of that town.
He was born in June 1635, and was thus only fifteen years old when, in August 1650, his father died from the effects of “trois coups de bayonnette” received from the sons of a neighbour with whom he had a difference of opinion regarding a right-of-way through his property. The life of a landed proprietor on a small and barren estate in Provence failed to appeal to the adventurous youth, who saw other scions of noble houses with the permission of the king condescend to a commercial career and return to France with handsome fortunes gained in the dominions of the Grand Signor, and who yearned to follow their example and restore the fortunes of the family. He had a passion for travel, considerable aptitude for the acquisition of foreign languages, and, was still more important, two cousins, the Messrs Bertandié, established as merchants in Smyrna. When these relatives consented to initiate him into the mysteries of commerce, he bade farewell to his mother (the editor reveals that she was busily engaged in squandering the little her husband had left his family), and sailed from Marseilles in October 1653 on board the good ship Postillon, bound for Smyrna, being then eighteen years of age.
This vessel was a king’s ship carrying thirty large and twenty-eight small guns, sixty sailors, thirty soldiers, and eighty officers and passengers, and then employed for the first time on commercial work. It is a striking indication of the state of insecurity prevailing in the Mediterranean that a man-of-war of this force should be required to carry goods safely to a not particulary distant destination, but the event proved that the precaution was by no means excessive. France was at war with Spain and on bad terms with England; but what may be termed legitimate risks to navigation were as nothing to the danger from the Barbary pirates, who swarmed in the Mediterranean and plundered the ships of every nation indiscriminately, to say nothing of the privateers sent out by the Knights of Malta, and no merchant ship took the sea unless adequately armed or provided with convoy. It was barely a year after the Postillon sailed that Cromwell had to send Blake into the Mediterranean with a fleet to chastise the pirates of Tunis and Algiers for their depredations of English commerce.
With a favourable wind they reached Genoa after twenty-four hours’ of sail. The object in touching at this port was to change into piastres a large sum in pistoles which the vessel carried for trading purposes, as the loss on exchange would have been heavy had the operation been effected in Turkey. In Genoa harbour they found a Dunkirk frigate (Dunkirk then belonged to Spain), which at once made open preparations to attack the Postillon as soon as she should leave port, cleaning and manoeuvring guns and discharging muskets, greatly to the joy of the Genoese, “the secret and irreconcilable enemies of France”, who publicly expressed their hope that the French ship would be taken. These warlike demonstrations so alarmed several of the passangers that they disembarked at Genoa rather than face the redoubtable Dunkirker. Nothing, however, happened in Genoa.
The next port of call was Leghorn, and here things did not pass so quietly. The Dunkirk ship did indeed came in after the Postillon had dropped anchor, but seeing her ready for defence, passed by on the other side. Then a Dutch vessel, the St Pierre, lying in the road-stead, hoisted her sails and bore down on the Postillon to lay her aboard; but the wind fell when she was pistol shot away, and the current carried her bows on to the Frenchman, and her bowsprit [large spar projecting off the front of a boat] lodged on the latter’s rigging. The French crew, under the impression that the onslaught was due to bad seamanship rather than malice, tried to fend her off; but the Dutchmen opened musketry fire on them, while twenty men leaped on board sword and pistol in hand. Several Frenchmen were killed and wounded in the first surprise, but crew and passangers flew to arms, killed, threw overboard, or made prisoners of the boarding party, and then opened cannon fire on the St Pierre, doing serious damage to her hull.
While the combat was at its height, the commandant of the fortress of Leghorn, considering, as well he might, that a free fight between foreign ships enjoying the hospitality of his harbour showed a lack of respect for the Grand Duke, his master, opened fire impartially on both combatants. By ill-luck the Postillon lay between the Dutchman and the fort, and thus received most of the punishment; but so enraged were her crew that they paid no attention to the strong hint from the shore, and were about to board the St Pierre in their turn when the explosion of a barrel of gunpowder set that vessel on fire, and they were glad to sever her bowsprit and push her off.
The incident had no consequences except that the commandant of the fort locked up the captains of the St Pierre and the Dunkirk frigate, and threatened to hang them if any further breach of the peace occured. It transpired that, though the Dutch Netherlands and France were at peace, Dutch vessels had been authorised to take any French ships with crews exceeding forty men in reprisal for the capture by Toulon privateers of certain Dutch ships. The nine Dutch prisoners were detained on board the Postillon, and made to work in place of the Frenchmen who lost their lives.
Repairing the damage received in this action detained the ship for a fortnight at Leghorn. After touching at Malta, she steered for the south of Greece, and the wind failing her near Cape Matapan, was only saved from shipwreck by her boats towing her off that dangerous coast. This occasion gave Chevalier occasion to congratulate himself on not falling into the hands of the inhabitants of the locality, “a race wicked, cruel, perfidious, inhuman, in a word, Greek”, who cultivated the unamiable habit of capturing shipwrecked mariners and selling them, if Christians to the Turks, and if Turks to the Christians.
On the 4th of December the ship reached Smyrna, eight weeks out from Marseilles. The Chevalier was cordially received by his cousins, who gave him a room in their house, with every facility for learning the methods of trade as practiced in the Levant.
The population of Smyrna at this time was not quite ninety thousand, less than half of what it is now [1922], or at least what it was before the Greek occupation. There were sixty thousand Turks, seven or eight thousand Jews, and the rest Franks (foreigners), Armenians and Greeks. The present-day claim that Smyrna has always been an essentially Greek town thus appears to rest on no very assured foundations.
For the Greeks our author has not a good word to say. He concedes them a considerable amount of intelligence, but declares that “in duplicity, rascality, and lying they easily outdistance the Jews”. Religious prejudice no doubt accounts to some extent for this unfavourble, for he adds that they prefer to remain in shameful slavery under the yoke of the Turks rather than return to the fold of the Latin Church, and help, as they could, the Latin princes to expel these enemies of Christianity.
The Christians, for their numbers, were amply provided with churches. The Greeks possessed a cathedral, with an archbishop, and a church besides; the Armenians two churches and an archbishop; the Catholics three churches, as well as a school kept by the Jesuits for the education of the young people of their religion. The Memoirs make no mention of a Protestant place of worship, but as an English pastor is spoken of, it is to be supposed that something of the sort existed, probably within the precincts of the English Consulate. The Chevalier pays a high tribute to Turkish toleration. “There is no place in the whole of Turkey”, he says, “where Christians have greater freedom in the practice of their religion. The doors of their churches open on to the public thorough-fares; the people assemble, the services are sung, and the congregations disperse without fear. Sometimes Turks enter out of curiosity, and watch what goes on without committing the slightest act of irrevereence or causing the least scandal. They are equally indulgent towards the Jews. These people meet in their synagogues and cry and shout like madmen while holding their services, and nothing is ever said to them. It is certain that people in their neighbourhood are much inconvenienced thereby, yet the Turks bear it with patience. The Holy Sacraments are carried to the sick with more pomp and decency than in many towns of Christian Europe, funerals are conducted with solemnity, and it is a thing unknown for the Turks to object or to trouble any one in the exercise of his religion.”
When we reflect that no Jew might reside in contemporary England, that the celebration of the mass was a penal offence, and it was high treason for a Protestant to turn Roman Catholic; that thirty years later the revocation of the Edict of Nantes and the virulent persecution which ensued drove scores of thousands of innocent Protestants out of France; and that over a century was to elapse before the custom of roasting Jews and heretics was abandoned in Spain and Portugal, it is but fair to recognise in the Turks the virtue of religious toleration in advance of the age.
But this did not extend to any one who abjured the Mussulman religion. An Armenian who, while quite a lad, had turned Moslem, became conscience-striken forty years later, and boldly informed the Cadi [district judge] that he was a Christian, and wished to die in the faith he had abandoned. The magistrate at first thought he must be mad, but finding that the man persisted in his intention, in spite of threats and cajolements, had him thrown into a prison and kept on a diet of bread and water for three days. He was then again brought up, and fresh efforts to induce him to change his mind proving of no avail, he was condemned to death, and cut in pieces. The Armenian community paid a large sum for the possession of his remains, removed them by night, and buried them with respect as the body of a martyr - as indeed he was. Shortly afterwards a renegade Greek followed this Armenian’s example in reverting to his original faith, and suffered the same fate.
The houses of the Frank merchants, as well as those of the Consuls, were built on the sea-shore with jetties erected by the owners in front, and ships of each nationality moored alongside their Consulate’s jetty, where they loaded and discharged their cargo. These jetties were connected by an erection partly of wood and partly of stonework, which served as the fashionable promenade, as does the quay of Smyrna at the present time. The Turkish Government confined its contribution to the commercial prosperity of the port to the levying of custom duties, and in other respects left the foreign traders to work out their own salvation. Goods did not have to pass through the custom-house, though one existed, but were tallied by custom clerks, and the bill for duty sent in subsequently to the merchants concerned. This laxity of procedure naturally led to abuses, and it was not uncommon for goods to be embarked secretly at night, sometimes in the boats belonging to the custom-house, with the connivance of its untrustworthy employees, who received for their complaisance half the amount which would have been paid as duty. When such practices came to light the only result for the merchant was that he was charged double duty, while the guilty official received a good dose of bastinado on the soles of his feet.
The Turks themselves preferred to build their houses at some distance back from the water and on the slopes of a hill, because they feared an influx of the sea during earthquakes. Such visitations were terribly frequent, and the natives averred that the town had already been destroyed by them six times, and that the seventh would wipe it out so effectually that it would never be built again.
On 20th May 1654 it seemed that this foreboding was likely to be realised. The earth trembled so violently for a quarter of an hour that all thought their last moment was near. The roofs and frames of the houses cracked in an alarming manner, the houses themselves swayed as if they were jostling one another, tiles fell in all directions, and the strongest men could not keep their feet. Catholics took refuge in their churches to implore the help of Heaven and the mercy of God, though, as the Chevalier sagely remarks, these edifices, being built of stone, were much more dangerous shelters than wooden houses.
For a whole month the shocks were incessant, five or six each day, and as many at night. The Franks at first sought asylum on board their ships, whither they removed their commercial books and their most precious possessions; but as time went on familiarity with the danger bred contempt for it, and they returned to their houses by day and at last slept in them at night, even finding that the rocking motion had a soothing effect when they got used to it.
The Turks and Jews showed less perturbation that the foreigners, the first because their fatalism assured them that nothing they could do would avert their fate when the destined day arrived, and the Jews because they valued their wealth at least as much as their lives, and would not abandon their houses to possible pillage.
The series of shocks ceased suddenly on the 1st of June, and life resumed its ordinary course.
Another drawback to existence in Smyrna was the plague. Epidemics were frequent, and in the absence of any sanitary control caused fearful ravages. The fatalism of the Turks which gave them courage in an earthquake rendered them particularly susceptible to infection, as they took no precautions whatever. They thought nothing of clothing themselves in garments recently removed from a plague corpse, of using his bedding or sleeping in his mattress in the room where he had just died without the least attempt at disinfection. Is it any wonder that they perished like flies? Foreigners were by no means exempt, but reduced their losses by the use of such measures of precaution as were known to science of the time. If possible, they retired to the country as soon as the plague made its appearance, and broke off all communication with the town; or, if obliged to remain, they provisioned their houses for three or four months, and shut themselves up until the epidemic had worn itself out. One precaution in common use among them seems to indicate an unexpected acquantance with the manner in which plague is communicated. “They kill without mercy all the dogs and cats which try to enter their premises, because these vagabond animals may have been in infected places, and might carry contagious particles in their coats.” It would have been better policy had they welcomed the dogs and cats to kill the rats, but the guess was not a bad one.
The representative of the Sultan in Smyrna only held the rank of Cadi or judge, and it was to the comparatively lowly position of this functionary that the place owed much of its commercial prosperity. The importance and the power for good or evil of the local governor seems to have varied with the distance of his district from the capital. Smyrna being in close proximity to Constantinople, where there were foreign ambassadors to pass on the complaints of their countrymen to the Porte, the Cadi dared not venture on more than the recognised amount of extraction; whereas at Aleppo, another great trading centre, the rapacity of the pashas knew no bounds, and resulted in the caravan trade being largely diverted to Smyrna, to the great advantage of the commerce of that town.
Business was almost entirely in the hands of the Franks - English, French, Dutch, and Venetian. Our countrymen got the lion’s share, though, in view of their convivial habits, they can hardly have devoted so much timeas they ought to the more serious occupations of life. The Chevalier moralises sadly over the haphazard method of the French, who quarrelled incessantly amongst themselves, while their poverty or their averice deprived them of the support of the Turkish officials. The superior practice of the English extorts his unwilling admiration. All of them, he says, were splendid in respect of their clothes, houses, furniture, horses, and carriages. Their tables were always abundant and delicate. They gave liberal pay to their dragomans and brokers, and in general to all who did them service. Though they often had private disputes, a question touching the interests of their community united them at once. By levying a duty of 2 per cent on all goods imported or exported by its members, the English company was provided with a fund for the general use, whereas the French worked each for his own hand, and they possessed no common capital.
These were the days when the English Levant Company flourished exceedingly. Created in 1592 under Queen Elizabeth, its charter was confirmed and extended by James I. in 1605. It had the monopoly of trade with Venice, Turkey, and the Levant Seas, appointed its own Consuls , levied dues, made laws for the government of its members and English subjects in general, and had the power of punishing by fine and imprisonment all who transgressed them or infringed its monopoly. The charter was again confirmed by Charles II. in 1660, but in the eighteenth century the company fell on evil days and made repeated petitions to the home Government for pecuniary assistance. No less than £110,000 were thus advanced by Parliament between 1768 and 1808, and finally in 1825 it surrendered its charter and the Levant trade was thrown open to all comers.
Foreigners as a rule did not take the trouble to learn the Turkish language, and consequently were obliged to employ brokers in their transactions with the natives. These men were usually Jews or Armenians, and far from honest. On the other hand, the integrity of Turkish merchants receives a high tribute. “By nature they are lovers of justice and uprightness, they keep their word once given, and amongst them there is no need for notaries. For a long while when any dispute arose with foreigners they were content to refer the decision to the Consuls; but having reason to be dissatisfied with the methods of these functionaries, they now lay their differences before the Cadi, who adjudicates thereon with greater promptitute and equity.”
The reputation of the individual Turk for honesty still stands high - higher, indeed, than that of the Christian subjects of the Sultan, though it may have fallen off since the seventeenth century. But it is rather surprising to hear the Turkish police held up as a model. “There is no town in the world where the police is more efficient than in Smyrna. Prices of all articles of daily consumption are fixed by the Cadi, and no weights or measures other than those recognised by law may be used. Any one who sells above the established price or who makes use of unrecognised weights or measures is punishable by fine and corporal chastisement.” The Naib, or Lieutenant, of the Cadi made weekly rounds on horseback through the bazaars followed by a body of police carrying a supply of sticks and the standard weights and measures. He examined the tradesmen’s weights and investigated complaints, and if any one was detected in malpractices, sentenced him to so many blows on the soles of the feet and to fine of an equal number of piastres. The culprit had besides to bestow liberal tips on the men who held him down, on those who held him down, on those who inflicted the blows, and on the one who kept the score. When he got up (if he could stand at all) he kissed the Naib’s hand and received from him a “paternal remonstrance.”
In especially bad cases the wrongdoer had his face blackened with charcoal, a straw cap adorned with cock’s feathers was put on his head in place of his turban, a large wooden frame weighted with lead and jingling with bells was fixed round his neck, and in this strange guise they led him through the streets jeered at by the riffraff and pelted with mud by small boys. Or, if it were desired to inflict a still more ignominious punishment, they cut off his beard, a deadly insult, blackened his face, hung festoons of stale and stinking entrails from the slaughter-house round his neck, and he made his tour of the town mounted on an ass with his face to the tail, which he was forced to hold in his hands in lieu of reins. In either case a thorough bastinado concluded the programme.
Even these unpleasant results of dishonesty pale before the retribution which overtook an unprincipled baker in Constantinople. The police officer there simply baked him alive in his own oven.
In this connection the Chevalier relates the following occurences, of which he was an eye-witness.
The son of a grocer of Smyrna, to whom his father had given as good an upbringing as the limited educational resources of the town afforded, rose by his merits to the rank of Naib to the Cadi. One day when he was going his rounds the neighbours warned his father to hide his false weights (these articles seem to have been an essential item in every tradesman’s outfit) lest he should be detected and get into trouble. The old gentleman only smiled, and awaited in his shop the arrival of a son on whose sense of filial duty he could surely count. The Naib, however, had heard of his sire’s indiscretions, and riding up to the door said, “My good man, bring out your weights that I may test them.” The father laughed at the order, whereat the police entered his shop forthwith, seized the weights, and finding them defective, broke them up. The stern son condemned his father to fifty blows on the soles of his feet and a fine of fifty piastres, and the sentence was executed on the sentence was executed on the spot to the surprise and grief of the erring grocer. When all was over the Naib dismounted and threw himself at his father’s feet, which he kissed with tears, explaining that justice was blind and could draw no distinction between father and son, and that he ought to be pitied rather than blamed for having been forced to do his duty under such painful circumstances.
This Spartan conduct being brought to the notice of the Sultan, the monarch appreciated it so highly that on the office of Cadi falling vacant shortly afterwards the Naib was appointed to it, and subsequently became Grand Mufti of Constantinople.
The recorded examples of disregard of the call of blood in the pursuance of the stern path of duty, from Jepthah downwards, have been at the expense of the younger generation, and it is rather refreshing to hear of youth getting its own back in at least one instance.
The Memoirs discourse at some length concerning the antics of the Consular body. These great men “lived in a fashion full of ceremony and circumspection.” They never called on one another, but paid their official visits by deputy. Thus, on a French fête-day, the English Consul would send two of the chief merchants of his colony, accompanied by his Dragomans and Janissaries in their best clothes, to carry his congratulations to his colleague. The Frenchman entertained them lavishly, and numerous toasts were drunk. An hour or two afterwards the Frenchmansent his merchants, Dragomans and Janissaries, with the same ceremonial to return the compliment at the English Consulate, where they were similarly entertained, and whence they usually returned intoxicated. On the English feasts the procedure was reversed.
The French Consul, according to the Chevalier, “has always and without dispute taken precedence over all the rest. All yield it to him without hesitation except the English Consul, who always tries to trespass on his rights. Neither of them ever goes to the customary promenade when he knows that the other is already there; and if by accident both happen to be on the promenade at the same time they take good care not to meet, as otherwise a bloody encounter would certainly result.”
One day the Consuls had to pay official calls on the Capitan Pasha, the Turkish Lord High Admiral, who chanced to come into port with his fleet. When the French Consul arrived he found that the Englishman had got in first, and so chagrined was he that he pulled his colleague’s chair from under him and gave him a box on the ears. Our author does not relate what followed, but one can hardly imagine the Englishman taking the correction meekly. The Chevalier remarks rather naïvely that the Capitan Pasha was astonished that such action should have been taken in his presence. However, when they explained to him the privileges of the French Consul, he put the blame on the English Consul.
The pretensions of the French Consul were presumably based on an old treaty between France and the Sultan, in which it is stated that “considering that the family of the Emperors of France was in possession of the reins of sovereign authority before the most renowned Kings and Princes amongst Christian nations and has always been a more sincere and constant friend to Turkey than all the other Kings...it is our will that when the Ambassadors of France, residing at our gate of Felicity, come to our Supreme Divan or go to our Vizirs or very honoured Councillors, they shall according to the ancient custom have precedence over the Ambassadors of Spain and the other Kings.” As late as 1840 in a Turkish town a French Consul, fresh from Paris, almost came to blows with a colleague in support of his pretensions to precedence. The claim has now died a natural death.
Living was cheap and food good at Smyrna. In the fertile plain to the east of the town game of all sorts abounded - hares, partridges, turtle-doves, ortalans, and francolins; but it was dangerous to go there without a guard, and shooting parties found it prudent to take a Janissary with them to hold the peasantry in awe. Vine-yards were numerous and produced abundant grapes, which could be manufactured into wine of first-rate quality, though such was the demand for liquor amongst the thirsty Franks that local supplies were insufficient for their needs, and more grapes had to be imported from Magnesia to fill up the void. Each householder made his own wine at home. Provisions in general were inexpensive. Beef cost but a sou per pound, and veal two sous. A hare could be bought for ten sous, a partridge for five or six, and smaller birds six sous per dozen. The bay provided excellent fish in great variety, and on the whole Smyrna appeared to the Chevalier a veritable land of Cockaigne.
It was also exceedingly attractive from the social point of view. The foreign merchants of the town seem to have been most jovial set, and addicted to to such frequent merry-makings that the wonder is how they found time to earn the money to pay for them. Sometimes their festivities took place on board ship. On such occasions much gunpowder was burned, as after each toast - and everybody’s health was drunk - the ship fire a number of cannon shots “according to the merit and standing of the person toasted”. The noise must have been deafening, for other vessels of the same nationality which happened to be in port, and even allies, made it a point of honour to back up each salute with the same number of guns. On the termination of such feasts, it was necessary to rig derricks for the purpose of hoisting the departing guests over the ship’s side into their boats, as they were, unless exceptionally gifted topers, quite incapable of descending the gangways on their feet.
Nor were land celebrations less joyous than those on the water. “When these diversions take place on land in the houses of rich and generous merchants, especially the English, nothing can be added to the magnificence of the banquets or the quantity of wine drunk. After the guests have broken all bottles and glasses, they attack the mirrors and the furniture. They smash everything in honour of the person whose health is drunk, and sometimes, when nothing is left to break, they go so far as to light a big fire and cast on it hats, wigs, and clothing to their very shirts, after which these gentelmen are obliged to remain in bed until fresh clothes have been made for them”.
Even funerals were made the occasion for a debauch. Mr Spencer Breton, the English Consul [1649-1657 - died in office], having received the news of the death of his wife in England, was anxious to have the funeral after the custom of his own country, and invited all his compatriots and friends to attend it. On the appointed day the English ships and the foreign ships whose captains had received invitations slowly discharged all their artillery, and hoisted all their flags and black standards. They fired off their guns a second time when the company sat down to table, and again when the repast was ended. The ceremony at the Consulate began with a long complimentary address on the death of the Consul’s wife, delivered by a representative of the English community. The Consul, who wore a long mourning cloak, replied modestly. The chaplain then preached the funeral sermon. The company applauded, and afterwards sat down to table to drown in wine the sorrow that this decease caused to them all. The repast was very long and very splendid. The Consul, in spite of his affliction, ate and drank heartily, as did all the guests until they were in no state to return to their ships, and the Consul had to provide them with beds for the night.
The study of languages and his commercial pursuits were not so engrossing as to occupy all the Chevalier’s time, and he found leisure to join in such amusements as the foreign society offered. He played on several instruments, and hints that he was rather sought after. The feud between the French and English Consuls did not extend to their respective colonies, and it was in fact the drawing-room of an English merchant, Mr Joseph Edwards, that he most frequented. This gentelman was rich and hospitable, and often gave dances, followed by splendid collations and concerts, in which the Chevalier shone.
When the writer was in Smyrna thirty years ago, descendants of this mercant prince were still to be found amongst the British community.
Some Greek ladies were invited to these parties, and attended them in spite of the opposition of their husbands. They danced and amused themselves just like Europeans, but showed (at first) a certain amount of repugnance to being kissed. However, coming to the conclusion that it was up to them to follow the example of the Englishwomen, “who were by no means backward in according this slight favour”, they finally became so reconciled to the practice as to show themselves aggrieved at any sign of its being neglected.
The carnival of 1654 was celebrated with particular éclat. Even the Consuls, though still abstaining from passing one another’s thresholds, made no bones about accepting invitations to the houses of the individuals, even if their respective Governments happenend to be at war, and themselves gave magnificent parties. It was one round of gaieties, and culminated in a series of private theatricals. The French Consul placed his big reception-room at the disposal of the players for the first representation, the ‘Nicodeme’ of Corneille, where special boxes with lattices in front were provided for the ladies of the country who might not like their faces to be seen in public. The success was prodigious, and in the opinion of connisseurs the acting would not have been surpassed by professionals. The repast which followed was on so lavish a scale that several Englishmen and Dutchmen were quite overcome, and had to be put to bed to sleep it off.
So much stir was caused by this exploit, and such was the public demand to witness the performance, that it had to be repeated several times. Even the Turks wished to see it, and some of them with rare indulgence allowed their womenkind to share in the pleasure. The ladies sat behind lattices, were guarded by eunuchs, and wore long white beards as a disguise, “which gave them the appearance of the most beautiful old men imaginable.”
The English Consul, not to be outdone, and indeed going one better than his colleague, caused a special theatre to be erected on his premises, in which by request the amateur troupe gave a series of French and Italian plays. The other Consuls attended, but in the strictest incognito. During the entr’actes refreshments were served to them with marked deference, but they retired before the sit-down repasts which followed the acting, and which were both lengthy and gorgeous.
Present-day members of the British Consular Service may well envy the emoluments which enabled their forerunner to do himself so well. It is improbable that he received anything considerable by way of a fixed salary, but the opportunities enjoyed by the head of an important trading community could not fail to be remunerative in a period when the ox that trod out the corn was not accustomed to wear a muzzle. What is more astonishing is that official representing a régime of rigid Puritanism should venture to lead so festive a life, and even to countenance theatrical performances which were then anathema in England. One can only conclude that Cromwell’s Foreign Office knew little and cared less about what went on in so distant a locality as Smyrna.
Poor Mr Joseph Edwards, so wealthy and so hospitable, came to a gloomy end, and all through not minding his own business. It happened in this wise.
A third-rate Armenian trader left Smyrna for England to sell a consignment of Indian muslin. He succeeded so well and gave himself such airs that the English people with whom he came into contact took him at his own valuation, as not infrequently happens in such cases even in the twentieth century, and he managed to induce the parents of a young and beautiful girl to give their daughter to him in marriage. The ceremony was duly performed, but at the last moment they seem to have some glimmering of prudence, and imposed the condition that consummation of the marriage should be postponed until after the arrival of the couple in Smyrna, and until Mr Edwards, to whom the young lady was consigned, should have inquired as to the standing of the Armenian and given his approval.
Husband and wife embarked on the good ship Success, the bride being under the care of the captain, who carried out his duties as duenna with all the more fidelity in that he fell in love with her himself. All went according to plan, and they reached Smyrna safely. Here Mr Edwards at once recognised the bridegroom as being entirely unworthy of such an alliance, and promptly kicked him out with every mark of ignominy. He placed Rachel (this was the girl’s Christian name, her surname is not stated) in charge of his wife to act as her companion while waiting to be permanently provided for in a manner suitable to her birth.
Mrs Edwards was the daughter of an English Ambassador to the Sultan, and as such thought no small beer of herself. Rachel unfortunately proved to be as witty and accomplished as she was beautiful, and soon had the young bloods of the English colony at her feet. These consequently ceased paying their accustomed court to Mrs Edwards, whose pride quickly revolted at such neglect of her charms and station; and when Mr Edwards himself succumbed to the enchantress, his wife thought it time to call in the resources of science to her aid. She prepared and administered to her rival a potion of “certain appropriate remedies”, the effect being to throw her into a kind of lethargy so closely resembling death that no one raised any objection when the ambassador’s daughter nailed her up in a coffin and removed her with indecent haste to the cemetery. They gave her a good funeral with the inevitable discharge of artillery; crêpe, mourning scarves, and gloves were distributed lavishly, and she was duly interred.
Two days later some Englishmen returned from an absence in the country, and suspecting from what they heard that something was wrong, went to the cemetery and dug up the coffin. It was evident that the luckless girl had been buried alive, for the body was still warm, and she had gnawed her fingers in her agony. Poor Rachel, she could hardly have fared worse even as the wife of an inferior Armenian.
The pride of an ambassador’s daughter could not be expected to survive the scandal which ensued, and Mrs Edwards soon followed her rival to the cemetery. Mr Edwards too died before long of a broken heart, and almost ruined by the extravagance of his wife.
In 1657, following such obvious precursors of misfortune as an eclipse of the moon and the visit of a comet, a disease which was evidently the influenza of modern times attacked almost every one in the dominions of the Grand Signor, and made nearly as many victims as the plague. It began with a cold and ended with pneumonia. The Chevalier had it badly. “I was”, he says, “extremely ill, and I believe I should have died had I obeyed the orders of the Doctors. They absolutely forbade the taking of alcohol in any form or manner, but I drank some brandy after having it burned and putting a large quantity of sugar in it. This liquor, for which I never had a liking, produced an admirable effect. It softened the phlegm with which my chest was clogged, gave me strength to expel it, and to the disappointment of the Doctors I was up and about again in a few days, and attended the funerals of many persons who were foolish enough to deliver themselves into the Doctors’ hands.”
Although the Chevalier had an excellent time in Smyrna, and acquired a thorough acquantance with the mysteries of commerce, he was dissatisfied with the slow progress he made in languages. English and Greek he learned easily enough, but in spite of diligence in the study of Turkish and Arabic, with the aid of such dictionaries and grammars as existed, he made little head-way in these two tongues, which he particularly desired to master. None of the foreigners whose society he frequented could speak either, and unfortunately a young man like himself could not venture to associate with Mussulmans on account of the obvious danger to his morals. Accordingly, when the order came for him to proceed to Sidon in Syria with one of the Messieurs Bertandié, it was not unwelcome. The pair were entertained by their friends at farewell banquets and gave feasts in return, all with much magnificence, “for the people of this country pride themselves on doing things better than in any other”, and on the 7th February 1658 they embarked for Alexandria on board an English ship of forty guns. And there we must leave them.
The Chevalier Laurent d’Arvieux, “Envoy Extraordinary of the King of France to the Porte, and Consul at Aleppo, Algiers, Tripoli, and other ports of the Levant”, died in 1702, but the Memoirs in which he described his travels and experiences were not published until 1735, when the Reverend Jean Baptiste Labat, of the Order of Preaching Brothers, gave them to the world in six volumes. The Chevalier, as we learn from his editor’s preface, belonged to a noble but improvished family of Provence which originated in Lombardy, had branches in other parts of France and, according to Père Labat, even in England, where the Italian family name of “Arveo” was transformed into Harvey. In France it passed through the successive metamorphoses of Arveou, Arvieu, Arvieux, and finally d’Arvieux on the family being ennobled, which occured eleven generations before the author of the Memoirs appeared on the scene.
These Memoirs are particularly interesting, as they relate to a period which is not over-rich in records of the Ottoman Empire. Their author, a keen and extremely curious observer, resided in the course of his long life abroad at Smyrna, in Syria, Palestine, Egypt, and the Barbary coast [modern Algeria / Tunisia], and though he does not expressly say so, must have kept careful notes of what he saw and experienced, for no memory, however active, could possibly have supplied the wealth of detail contained in his three thousand pages unless aided by written records. It is impossible to compress within the limits of a single article an adequate summary of journeyings in so many countries and spread over so many years, but the following account of the conditions prevailing in Smyrna - the first part of Turkey he visited - may be of interest in view of the contest at present raging between Turk and Greek for the possession of that town.
He was born in June 1635, and was thus only fifteen years old when, in August 1650, his father died from the effects of “trois coups de bayonnette” received from the sons of a neighbour with whom he had a difference of opinion regarding a right-of-way through his property. The life of a landed proprietor on a small and barren estate in Provence failed to appeal to the adventurous youth, who saw other scions of noble houses with the permission of the king condescend to a commercial career and return to France with handsome fortunes gained in the dominions of the Grand Signor, and who yearned to follow their example and restore the fortunes of the family. He had a passion for travel, considerable aptitude for the acquisition of foreign languages, and, was still more important, two cousins, the Messrs Bertandié, established as merchants in Smyrna. When these relatives consented to initiate him into the mysteries of commerce, he bade farewell to his mother (the editor reveals that she was busily engaged in squandering the little her husband had left his family), and sailed from Marseilles in October 1653 on board the good ship Postillon, bound for Smyrna, being then eighteen years of age.
This vessel was a king’s ship carrying thirty large and twenty-eight small guns, sixty sailors, thirty soldiers, and eighty officers and passengers, and then employed for the first time on commercial work. It is a striking indication of the state of insecurity prevailing in the Mediterranean that a man-of-war of this force should be required to carry goods safely to a not particulary distant destination, but the event proved that the precaution was by no means excessive. France was at war with Spain and on bad terms with England; but what may be termed legitimate risks to navigation were as nothing to the danger from the Barbary pirates, who swarmed in the Mediterranean and plundered the ships of every nation indiscriminately, to say nothing of the privateers sent out by the Knights of Malta, and no merchant ship took the sea unless adequately armed or provided with convoy. It was barely a year after the Postillon sailed that Cromwell had to send Blake into the Mediterranean with a fleet to chastise the pirates of Tunis and Algiers for their depredations of English commerce.
With a favourable wind they reached Genoa after twenty-four hours’ of sail. The object in touching at this port was to change into piastres a large sum in pistoles which the vessel carried for trading purposes, as the loss on exchange would have been heavy had the operation been effected in Turkey. In Genoa harbour they found a Dunkirk frigate (Dunkirk then belonged to Spain), which at once made open preparations to attack the Postillon as soon as she should leave port, cleaning and manoeuvring guns and discharging muskets, greatly to the joy of the Genoese, “the secret and irreconcilable enemies of France”, who publicly expressed their hope that the French ship would be taken. These warlike demonstrations so alarmed several of the passangers that they disembarked at Genoa rather than face the redoubtable Dunkirker. Nothing, however, happened in Genoa.
The next port of call was Leghorn, and here things did not pass so quietly. The Dunkirk ship did indeed came in after the Postillon had dropped anchor, but seeing her ready for defence, passed by on the other side. Then a Dutch vessel, the St Pierre, lying in the road-stead, hoisted her sails and bore down on the Postillon to lay her aboard; but the wind fell when she was pistol shot away, and the current carried her bows on to the Frenchman, and her bowsprit [large spar projecting off the front of a boat] lodged on the latter’s rigging. The French crew, under the impression that the onslaught was due to bad seamanship rather than malice, tried to fend her off; but the Dutchmen opened musketry fire on them, while twenty men leaped on board sword and pistol in hand. Several Frenchmen were killed and wounded in the first surprise, but crew and passangers flew to arms, killed, threw overboard, or made prisoners of the boarding party, and then opened cannon fire on the St Pierre, doing serious damage to her hull.
While the combat was at its height, the commandant of the fortress of Leghorn, considering, as well he might, that a free fight between foreign ships enjoying the hospitality of his harbour showed a lack of respect for the Grand Duke, his master, opened fire impartially on both combatants. By ill-luck the Postillon lay between the Dutchman and the fort, and thus received most of the punishment; but so enraged were her crew that they paid no attention to the strong hint from the shore, and were about to board the St Pierre in their turn when the explosion of a barrel of gunpowder set that vessel on fire, and they were glad to sever her bowsprit and push her off.
The incident had no consequences except that the commandant of the fort locked up the captains of the St Pierre and the Dunkirk frigate, and threatened to hang them if any further breach of the peace occured. It transpired that, though the Dutch Netherlands and France were at peace, Dutch vessels had been authorised to take any French ships with crews exceeding forty men in reprisal for the capture by Toulon privateers of certain Dutch ships. The nine Dutch prisoners were detained on board the Postillon, and made to work in place of the Frenchmen who lost their lives.
Repairing the damage received in this action detained the ship for a fortnight at Leghorn. After touching at Malta, she steered for the south of Greece, and the wind failing her near Cape Matapan, was only saved from shipwreck by her boats towing her off that dangerous coast. This occasion gave Chevalier occasion to congratulate himself on not falling into the hands of the inhabitants of the locality, “a race wicked, cruel, perfidious, inhuman, in a word, Greek”, who cultivated the unamiable habit of capturing shipwrecked mariners and selling them, if Christians to the Turks, and if Turks to the Christians.
On the 4th of December the ship reached Smyrna, eight weeks out from Marseilles. The Chevalier was cordially received by his cousins, who gave him a room in their house, with every facility for learning the methods of trade as practiced in the Levant.
The population of Smyrna at this time was not quite ninety thousand, less than half of what it is now [1922], or at least what it was before the Greek occupation. There were sixty thousand Turks, seven or eight thousand Jews, and the rest Franks (foreigners), Armenians and Greeks. The present-day claim that Smyrna has always been an essentially Greek town thus appears to rest on no very assured foundations.
For the Greeks our author has not a good word to say. He concedes them a considerable amount of intelligence, but declares that “in duplicity, rascality, and lying they easily outdistance the Jews”. Religious prejudice no doubt accounts to some extent for this unfavourble, for he adds that they prefer to remain in shameful slavery under the yoke of the Turks rather than return to the fold of the Latin Church, and help, as they could, the Latin princes to expel these enemies of Christianity.
The Christians, for their numbers, were amply provided with churches. The Greeks possessed a cathedral, with an archbishop, and a church besides; the Armenians two churches and an archbishop; the Catholics three churches, as well as a school kept by the Jesuits for the education of the young people of their religion. The Memoirs make no mention of a Protestant place of worship, but as an English pastor is spoken of, it is to be supposed that something of the sort existed, probably within the precincts of the English Consulate. The Chevalier pays a high tribute to Turkish toleration. “There is no place in the whole of Turkey”, he says, “where Christians have greater freedom in the practice of their religion. The doors of their churches open on to the public thorough-fares; the people assemble, the services are sung, and the congregations disperse without fear. Sometimes Turks enter out of curiosity, and watch what goes on without committing the slightest act of irrevereence or causing the least scandal. They are equally indulgent towards the Jews. These people meet in their synagogues and cry and shout like madmen while holding their services, and nothing is ever said to them. It is certain that people in their neighbourhood are much inconvenienced thereby, yet the Turks bear it with patience. The Holy Sacraments are carried to the sick with more pomp and decency than in many towns of Christian Europe, funerals are conducted with solemnity, and it is a thing unknown for the Turks to object or to trouble any one in the exercise of his religion.”
When we reflect that no Jew might reside in contemporary England, that the celebration of the mass was a penal offence, and it was high treason for a Protestant to turn Roman Catholic; that thirty years later the revocation of the Edict of Nantes and the virulent persecution which ensued drove scores of thousands of innocent Protestants out of France; and that over a century was to elapse before the custom of roasting Jews and heretics was abandoned in Spain and Portugal, it is but fair to recognise in the Turks the virtue of religious toleration in advance of the age.
But this did not extend to any one who abjured the Mussulman religion. An Armenian who, while quite a lad, had turned Moslem, became conscience-striken forty years later, and boldly informed the Cadi [district judge] that he was a Christian, and wished to die in the faith he had abandoned. The magistrate at first thought he must be mad, but finding that the man persisted in his intention, in spite of threats and cajolements, had him thrown into a prison and kept on a diet of bread and water for three days. He was then again brought up, and fresh efforts to induce him to change his mind proving of no avail, he was condemned to death, and cut in pieces. The Armenian community paid a large sum for the possession of his remains, removed them by night, and buried them with respect as the body of a martyr - as indeed he was. Shortly afterwards a renegade Greek followed this Armenian’s example in reverting to his original faith, and suffered the same fate.
The houses of the Frank merchants, as well as those of the Consuls, were built on the sea-shore with jetties erected by the owners in front, and ships of each nationality moored alongside their Consulate’s jetty, where they loaded and discharged their cargo. These jetties were connected by an erection partly of wood and partly of stonework, which served as the fashionable promenade, as does the quay of Smyrna at the present time. The Turkish Government confined its contribution to the commercial prosperity of the port to the levying of custom duties, and in other respects left the foreign traders to work out their own salvation. Goods did not have to pass through the custom-house, though one existed, but were tallied by custom clerks, and the bill for duty sent in subsequently to the merchants concerned. This laxity of procedure naturally led to abuses, and it was not uncommon for goods to be embarked secretly at night, sometimes in the boats belonging to the custom-house, with the connivance of its untrustworthy employees, who received for their complaisance half the amount which would have been paid as duty. When such practices came to light the only result for the merchant was that he was charged double duty, while the guilty official received a good dose of bastinado on the soles of his feet.
The Turks themselves preferred to build their houses at some distance back from the water and on the slopes of a hill, because they feared an influx of the sea during earthquakes. Such visitations were terribly frequent, and the natives averred that the town had already been destroyed by them six times, and that the seventh would wipe it out so effectually that it would never be built again.
On 20th May 1654 it seemed that this foreboding was likely to be realised. The earth trembled so violently for a quarter of an hour that all thought their last moment was near. The roofs and frames of the houses cracked in an alarming manner, the houses themselves swayed as if they were jostling one another, tiles fell in all directions, and the strongest men could not keep their feet. Catholics took refuge in their churches to implore the help of Heaven and the mercy of God, though, as the Chevalier sagely remarks, these edifices, being built of stone, were much more dangerous shelters than wooden houses.
For a whole month the shocks were incessant, five or six each day, and as many at night. The Franks at first sought asylum on board their ships, whither they removed their commercial books and their most precious possessions; but as time went on familiarity with the danger bred contempt for it, and they returned to their houses by day and at last slept in them at night, even finding that the rocking motion had a soothing effect when they got used to it.
The Turks and Jews showed less perturbation that the foreigners, the first because their fatalism assured them that nothing they could do would avert their fate when the destined day arrived, and the Jews because they valued their wealth at least as much as their lives, and would not abandon their houses to possible pillage.
The series of shocks ceased suddenly on the 1st of June, and life resumed its ordinary course.
Another drawback to existence in Smyrna was the plague. Epidemics were frequent, and in the absence of any sanitary control caused fearful ravages. The fatalism of the Turks which gave them courage in an earthquake rendered them particularly susceptible to infection, as they took no precautions whatever. They thought nothing of clothing themselves in garments recently removed from a plague corpse, of using his bedding or sleeping in his mattress in the room where he had just died without the least attempt at disinfection. Is it any wonder that they perished like flies? Foreigners were by no means exempt, but reduced their losses by the use of such measures of precaution as were known to science of the time. If possible, they retired to the country as soon as the plague made its appearance, and broke off all communication with the town; or, if obliged to remain, they provisioned their houses for three or four months, and shut themselves up until the epidemic had worn itself out. One precaution in common use among them seems to indicate an unexpected acquantance with the manner in which plague is communicated. “They kill without mercy all the dogs and cats which try to enter their premises, because these vagabond animals may have been in infected places, and might carry contagious particles in their coats.” It would have been better policy had they welcomed the dogs and cats to kill the rats, but the guess was not a bad one.
The representative of the Sultan in Smyrna only held the rank of Cadi or judge, and it was to the comparatively lowly position of this functionary that the place owed much of its commercial prosperity. The importance and the power for good or evil of the local governor seems to have varied with the distance of his district from the capital. Smyrna being in close proximity to Constantinople, where there were foreign ambassadors to pass on the complaints of their countrymen to the Porte, the Cadi dared not venture on more than the recognised amount of extraction; whereas at Aleppo, another great trading centre, the rapacity of the pashas knew no bounds, and resulted in the caravan trade being largely diverted to Smyrna, to the great advantage of the commerce of that town.
Business was almost entirely in the hands of the Franks - English, French, Dutch, and Venetian. Our countrymen got the lion’s share, though, in view of their convivial habits, they can hardly have devoted so much timeas they ought to the more serious occupations of life. The Chevalier moralises sadly over the haphazard method of the French, who quarrelled incessantly amongst themselves, while their poverty or their averice deprived them of the support of the Turkish officials. The superior practice of the English extorts his unwilling admiration. All of them, he says, were splendid in respect of their clothes, houses, furniture, horses, and carriages. Their tables were always abundant and delicate. They gave liberal pay to their dragomans and brokers, and in general to all who did them service. Though they often had private disputes, a question touching the interests of their community united them at once. By levying a duty of 2 per cent on all goods imported or exported by its members, the English company was provided with a fund for the general use, whereas the French worked each for his own hand, and they possessed no common capital.
These were the days when the English Levant Company flourished exceedingly. Created in 1592 under Queen Elizabeth, its charter was confirmed and extended by James I. in 1605. It had the monopoly of trade with Venice, Turkey, and the Levant Seas, appointed its own Consuls , levied dues, made laws for the government of its members and English subjects in general, and had the power of punishing by fine and imprisonment all who transgressed them or infringed its monopoly. The charter was again confirmed by Charles II. in 1660, but in the eighteenth century the company fell on evil days and made repeated petitions to the home Government for pecuniary assistance. No less than £110,000 were thus advanced by Parliament between 1768 and 1808, and finally in 1825 it surrendered its charter and the Levant trade was thrown open to all comers.
Foreigners as a rule did not take the trouble to learn the Turkish language, and consequently were obliged to employ brokers in their transactions with the natives. These men were usually Jews or Armenians, and far from honest. On the other hand, the integrity of Turkish merchants receives a high tribute. “By nature they are lovers of justice and uprightness, they keep their word once given, and amongst them there is no need for notaries. For a long while when any dispute arose with foreigners they were content to refer the decision to the Consuls; but having reason to be dissatisfied with the methods of these functionaries, they now lay their differences before the Cadi, who adjudicates thereon with greater promptitute and equity.”
The reputation of the individual Turk for honesty still stands high - higher, indeed, than that of the Christian subjects of the Sultan, though it may have fallen off since the seventeenth century. But it is rather surprising to hear the Turkish police held up as a model. “There is no town in the world where the police is more efficient than in Smyrna. Prices of all articles of daily consumption are fixed by the Cadi, and no weights or measures other than those recognised by law may be used. Any one who sells above the established price or who makes use of unrecognised weights or measures is punishable by fine and corporal chastisement.” The Naib, or Lieutenant, of the Cadi made weekly rounds on horseback through the bazaars followed by a body of police carrying a supply of sticks and the standard weights and measures. He examined the tradesmen’s weights and investigated complaints, and if any one was detected in malpractices, sentenced him to so many blows on the soles of the feet and to fine of an equal number of piastres. The culprit had besides to bestow liberal tips on the men who held him down, on those who held him down, on those who inflicted the blows, and on the one who kept the score. When he got up (if he could stand at all) he kissed the Naib’s hand and received from him a “paternal remonstrance.”
In especially bad cases the wrongdoer had his face blackened with charcoal, a straw cap adorned with cock’s feathers was put on his head in place of his turban, a large wooden frame weighted with lead and jingling with bells was fixed round his neck, and in this strange guise they led him through the streets jeered at by the riffraff and pelted with mud by small boys. Or, if it were desired to inflict a still more ignominious punishment, they cut off his beard, a deadly insult, blackened his face, hung festoons of stale and stinking entrails from the slaughter-house round his neck, and he made his tour of the town mounted on an ass with his face to the tail, which he was forced to hold in his hands in lieu of reins. In either case a thorough bastinado concluded the programme.
Even these unpleasant results of dishonesty pale before the retribution which overtook an unprincipled baker in Constantinople. The police officer there simply baked him alive in his own oven.
In this connection the Chevalier relates the following occurences, of which he was an eye-witness.
The son of a grocer of Smyrna, to whom his father had given as good an upbringing as the limited educational resources of the town afforded, rose by his merits to the rank of Naib to the Cadi. One day when he was going his rounds the neighbours warned his father to hide his false weights (these articles seem to have been an essential item in every tradesman’s outfit) lest he should be detected and get into trouble. The old gentleman only smiled, and awaited in his shop the arrival of a son on whose sense of filial duty he could surely count. The Naib, however, had heard of his sire’s indiscretions, and riding up to the door said, “My good man, bring out your weights that I may test them.” The father laughed at the order, whereat the police entered his shop forthwith, seized the weights, and finding them defective, broke them up. The stern son condemned his father to fifty blows on the soles of his feet and a fine of fifty piastres, and the sentence was executed on the sentence was executed on the spot to the surprise and grief of the erring grocer. When all was over the Naib dismounted and threw himself at his father’s feet, which he kissed with tears, explaining that justice was blind and could draw no distinction between father and son, and that he ought to be pitied rather than blamed for having been forced to do his duty under such painful circumstances.
This Spartan conduct being brought to the notice of the Sultan, the monarch appreciated it so highly that on the office of Cadi falling vacant shortly afterwards the Naib was appointed to it, and subsequently became Grand Mufti of Constantinople.
The recorded examples of disregard of the call of blood in the pursuance of the stern path of duty, from Jepthah downwards, have been at the expense of the younger generation, and it is rather refreshing to hear of youth getting its own back in at least one instance.
The Memoirs discourse at some length concerning the antics of the Consular body. These great men “lived in a fashion full of ceremony and circumspection.” They never called on one another, but paid their official visits by deputy. Thus, on a French fête-day, the English Consul would send two of the chief merchants of his colony, accompanied by his Dragomans and Janissaries in their best clothes, to carry his congratulations to his colleague. The Frenchman entertained them lavishly, and numerous toasts were drunk. An hour or two afterwards the Frenchmansent his merchants, Dragomans and Janissaries, with the same ceremonial to return the compliment at the English Consulate, where they were similarly entertained, and whence they usually returned intoxicated. On the English feasts the procedure was reversed.
The French Consul, according to the Chevalier, “has always and without dispute taken precedence over all the rest. All yield it to him without hesitation except the English Consul, who always tries to trespass on his rights. Neither of them ever goes to the customary promenade when he knows that the other is already there; and if by accident both happen to be on the promenade at the same time they take good care not to meet, as otherwise a bloody encounter would certainly result.”
One day the Consuls had to pay official calls on the Capitan Pasha, the Turkish Lord High Admiral, who chanced to come into port with his fleet. When the French Consul arrived he found that the Englishman had got in first, and so chagrined was he that he pulled his colleague’s chair from under him and gave him a box on the ears. Our author does not relate what followed, but one can hardly imagine the Englishman taking the correction meekly. The Chevalier remarks rather naïvely that the Capitan Pasha was astonished that such action should have been taken in his presence. However, when they explained to him the privileges of the French Consul, he put the blame on the English Consul.
The pretensions of the French Consul were presumably based on an old treaty between France and the Sultan, in which it is stated that “considering that the family of the Emperors of France was in possession of the reins of sovereign authority before the most renowned Kings and Princes amongst Christian nations and has always been a more sincere and constant friend to Turkey than all the other Kings...it is our will that when the Ambassadors of France, residing at our gate of Felicity, come to our Supreme Divan or go to our Vizirs or very honoured Councillors, they shall according to the ancient custom have precedence over the Ambassadors of Spain and the other Kings.” As late as 1840 in a Turkish town a French Consul, fresh from Paris, almost came to blows with a colleague in support of his pretensions to precedence. The claim has now died a natural death.
Living was cheap and food good at Smyrna. In the fertile plain to the east of the town game of all sorts abounded - hares, partridges, turtle-doves, ortalans, and francolins; but it was dangerous to go there without a guard, and shooting parties found it prudent to take a Janissary with them to hold the peasantry in awe. Vine-yards were numerous and produced abundant grapes, which could be manufactured into wine of first-rate quality, though such was the demand for liquor amongst the thirsty Franks that local supplies were insufficient for their needs, and more grapes had to be imported from Magnesia to fill up the void. Each householder made his own wine at home. Provisions in general were inexpensive. Beef cost but a sou per pound, and veal two sous. A hare could be bought for ten sous, a partridge for five or six, and smaller birds six sous per dozen. The bay provided excellent fish in great variety, and on the whole Smyrna appeared to the Chevalier a veritable land of Cockaigne.
It was also exceedingly attractive from the social point of view. The foreign merchants of the town seem to have been most jovial set, and addicted to to such frequent merry-makings that the wonder is how they found time to earn the money to pay for them. Sometimes their festivities took place on board ship. On such occasions much gunpowder was burned, as after each toast - and everybody’s health was drunk - the ship fire a number of cannon shots “according to the merit and standing of the person toasted”. The noise must have been deafening, for other vessels of the same nationality which happened to be in port, and even allies, made it a point of honour to back up each salute with the same number of guns. On the termination of such feasts, it was necessary to rig derricks for the purpose of hoisting the departing guests over the ship’s side into their boats, as they were, unless exceptionally gifted topers, quite incapable of descending the gangways on their feet.
Nor were land celebrations less joyous than those on the water. “When these diversions take place on land in the houses of rich and generous merchants, especially the English, nothing can be added to the magnificence of the banquets or the quantity of wine drunk. After the guests have broken all bottles and glasses, they attack the mirrors and the furniture. They smash everything in honour of the person whose health is drunk, and sometimes, when nothing is left to break, they go so far as to light a big fire and cast on it hats, wigs, and clothing to their very shirts, after which these gentelmen are obliged to remain in bed until fresh clothes have been made for them”.
Even funerals were made the occasion for a debauch. Mr Spencer Breton, the English Consul [1649-1657 - died in office], having received the news of the death of his wife in England, was anxious to have the funeral after the custom of his own country, and invited all his compatriots and friends to attend it. On the appointed day the English ships and the foreign ships whose captains had received invitations slowly discharged all their artillery, and hoisted all their flags and black standards. They fired off their guns a second time when the company sat down to table, and again when the repast was ended. The ceremony at the Consulate began with a long complimentary address on the death of the Consul’s wife, delivered by a representative of the English community. The Consul, who wore a long mourning cloak, replied modestly. The chaplain then preached the funeral sermon. The company applauded, and afterwards sat down to table to drown in wine the sorrow that this decease caused to them all. The repast was very long and very splendid. The Consul, in spite of his affliction, ate and drank heartily, as did all the guests until they were in no state to return to their ships, and the Consul had to provide them with beds for the night.
The study of languages and his commercial pursuits were not so engrossing as to occupy all the Chevalier’s time, and he found leisure to join in such amusements as the foreign society offered. He played on several instruments, and hints that he was rather sought after. The feud between the French and English Consuls did not extend to their respective colonies, and it was in fact the drawing-room of an English merchant, Mr Joseph Edwards, that he most frequented. This gentelman was rich and hospitable, and often gave dances, followed by splendid collations and concerts, in which the Chevalier shone.
When the writer was in Smyrna thirty years ago, descendants of this mercant prince were still to be found amongst the British community.
Some Greek ladies were invited to these parties, and attended them in spite of the opposition of their husbands. They danced and amused themselves just like Europeans, but showed (at first) a certain amount of repugnance to being kissed. However, coming to the conclusion that it was up to them to follow the example of the Englishwomen, “who were by no means backward in according this slight favour”, they finally became so reconciled to the practice as to show themselves aggrieved at any sign of its being neglected.
The carnival of 1654 was celebrated with particular éclat. Even the Consuls, though still abstaining from passing one another’s thresholds, made no bones about accepting invitations to the houses of the individuals, even if their respective Governments happenend to be at war, and themselves gave magnificent parties. It was one round of gaieties, and culminated in a series of private theatricals. The French Consul placed his big reception-room at the disposal of the players for the first representation, the ‘Nicodeme’ of Corneille, where special boxes with lattices in front were provided for the ladies of the country who might not like their faces to be seen in public. The success was prodigious, and in the opinion of connisseurs the acting would not have been surpassed by professionals. The repast which followed was on so lavish a scale that several Englishmen and Dutchmen were quite overcome, and had to be put to bed to sleep it off.
So much stir was caused by this exploit, and such was the public demand to witness the performance, that it had to be repeated several times. Even the Turks wished to see it, and some of them with rare indulgence allowed their womenkind to share in the pleasure. The ladies sat behind lattices, were guarded by eunuchs, and wore long white beards as a disguise, “which gave them the appearance of the most beautiful old men imaginable.”
The English Consul, not to be outdone, and indeed going one better than his colleague, caused a special theatre to be erected on his premises, in which by request the amateur troupe gave a series of French and Italian plays. The other Consuls attended, but in the strictest incognito. During the entr’actes refreshments were served to them with marked deference, but they retired before the sit-down repasts which followed the acting, and which were both lengthy and gorgeous.
Present-day members of the British Consular Service may well envy the emoluments which enabled their forerunner to do himself so well. It is improbable that he received anything considerable by way of a fixed salary, but the opportunities enjoyed by the head of an important trading community could not fail to be remunerative in a period when the ox that trod out the corn was not accustomed to wear a muzzle. What is more astonishing is that official representing a régime of rigid Puritanism should venture to lead so festive a life, and even to countenance theatrical performances which were then anathema in England. One can only conclude that Cromwell’s Foreign Office knew little and cared less about what went on in so distant a locality as Smyrna.
Poor Mr Joseph Edwards, so wealthy and so hospitable, came to a gloomy end, and all through not minding his own business. It happened in this wise.
A third-rate Armenian trader left Smyrna for England to sell a consignment of Indian muslin. He succeeded so well and gave himself such airs that the English people with whom he came into contact took him at his own valuation, as not infrequently happens in such cases even in the twentieth century, and he managed to induce the parents of a young and beautiful girl to give their daughter to him in marriage. The ceremony was duly performed, but at the last moment they seem to have some glimmering of prudence, and imposed the condition that consummation of the marriage should be postponed until after the arrival of the couple in Smyrna, and until Mr Edwards, to whom the young lady was consigned, should have inquired as to the standing of the Armenian and given his approval.
Husband and wife embarked on the good ship Success, the bride being under the care of the captain, who carried out his duties as duenna with all the more fidelity in that he fell in love with her himself. All went according to plan, and they reached Smyrna safely. Here Mr Edwards at once recognised the bridegroom as being entirely unworthy of such an alliance, and promptly kicked him out with every mark of ignominy. He placed Rachel (this was the girl’s Christian name, her surname is not stated) in charge of his wife to act as her companion while waiting to be permanently provided for in a manner suitable to her birth.
Mrs Edwards was the daughter of an English Ambassador to the Sultan, and as such thought no small beer of herself. Rachel unfortunately proved to be as witty and accomplished as she was beautiful, and soon had the young bloods of the English colony at her feet. These consequently ceased paying their accustomed court to Mrs Edwards, whose pride quickly revolted at such neglect of her charms and station; and when Mr Edwards himself succumbed to the enchantress, his wife thought it time to call in the resources of science to her aid. She prepared and administered to her rival a potion of “certain appropriate remedies”, the effect being to throw her into a kind of lethargy so closely resembling death that no one raised any objection when the ambassador’s daughter nailed her up in a coffin and removed her with indecent haste to the cemetery. They gave her a good funeral with the inevitable discharge of artillery; crêpe, mourning scarves, and gloves were distributed lavishly, and she was duly interred.
Two days later some Englishmen returned from an absence in the country, and suspecting from what they heard that something was wrong, went to the cemetery and dug up the coffin. It was evident that the luckless girl had been buried alive, for the body was still warm, and she had gnawed her fingers in her agony. Poor Rachel, she could hardly have fared worse even as the wife of an inferior Armenian.
The pride of an ambassador’s daughter could not be expected to survive the scandal which ensued, and Mrs Edwards soon followed her rival to the cemetery. Mr Edwards too died before long of a broken heart, and almost ruined by the extravagance of his wife.
In 1657, following such obvious precursors of misfortune as an eclipse of the moon and the visit of a comet, a disease which was evidently the influenza of modern times attacked almost every one in the dominions of the Grand Signor, and made nearly as many victims as the plague. It began with a cold and ended with pneumonia. The Chevalier had it badly. “I was”, he says, “extremely ill, and I believe I should have died had I obeyed the orders of the Doctors. They absolutely forbade the taking of alcohol in any form or manner, but I drank some brandy after having it burned and putting a large quantity of sugar in it. This liquor, for which I never had a liking, produced an admirable effect. It softened the phlegm with which my chest was clogged, gave me strength to expel it, and to the disappointment of the Doctors I was up and about again in a few days, and attended the funerals of many persons who were foolish enough to deliver themselves into the Doctors’ hands.”
Although the Chevalier had an excellent time in Smyrna, and acquired a thorough acquantance with the mysteries of commerce, he was dissatisfied with the slow progress he made in languages. English and Greek he learned easily enough, but in spite of diligence in the study of Turkish and Arabic, with the aid of such dictionaries and grammars as existed, he made little head-way in these two tongues, which he particularly desired to master. None of the foreigners whose society he frequented could speak either, and unfortunately a young man like himself could not venture to associate with Mussulmans on account of the obvious danger to his morals. Accordingly, when the order came for him to proceed to Sidon in Syria with one of the Messieurs Bertandié, it was not unwelcome. The pair were entertained by their friends at farewell banquets and gave feasts in return, all with much magnificence, “for the people of this country pride themselves on doing things better than in any other”, and on the 7th February 1658 they embarked for Alexandria on board an English ship of forty guns. And there we must leave them.