Chapter 5
After taking possession of Argyro-Castron, which he had long coveted,
Ali led his victorious army against the town of Kardiki, whose
inhabitants had formerly joined with those of Kormovo in the outrage
inflicted on his mother and sister. The besieged, knowing they had no
mercy to hope for, defended themselves bravely, but were obliged to
yield to famine. After a month's blockade, the common people, having no
food for themselves or their cattle, began to cry for mercy in the open
streets, and their chiefs, intimidated by the general misery and unable
to stand alone, consented to capitulate. Ali, whose intentions as to the
fate of this unhappy town were irrevocably decided, agreed to all that
they asked. A treaty was signed by both parties, and solemnly sworn
to on the Koran, in virtue of which seventy-two beys, heads of the
principal Albanian families, were to go to Janina as free men, and fully
armed. They were to be received with the honours due to their rank as
free tenants of the sultan, their lives and their families were to be
spared, and also their possessions. The other inhabitants of Kardiki,
being Mohammedans, and therefore brothers of Ali, were to be treated
as friends and retain their lives and property. On these conditions a
quarter of the town; was to be occupied by the victorious troops. One of the principal chiefs, Saleh Bey, and his wife, foreseeing the
fate which awaited their friends, committed suicide at the moment
when, in pursuance of the treaty, Ali's soldiers took possession of the
quarter assigned to them. Ali received the seventy-two beys with all marks of friendship when they
arrived at Janina. He lodged them in a palace on the lake, and treated
them magnificently for some days. But soon, having contrived on some
pretext to disarm them, he had them conveyed, loaded with chains, to
a Greek convent on an island in the lake, which was converted into a
prison. The day of vengeance not having fully arrived, he explained this
breach of faith by declaring that the hostages had attempted to escape. The popular credulity was satisfied by this explanation, and no one
doubted the good faith of the pacha when he announced that he was going
to Kardiki to establish a police and fulfil the promises he had made
to the inhabitants. Even the number of soldiers he took excited no
surprise, as Ali was accustomed to travel with a very numerous suite. After three days' journey, he stopped at Libokhovo, where his sister had
resided since the death of Aden Bey, her second son, cut off recently by
wickness. What passed in the long interview they had no one knew, but
it was observed that Chainitza's tears, which till then had flowed
incessantly, stopped as if by magic, and her women, who were wearing
mourning, received an order to attire themselves as for a festival.
Feasting and dancing, begun in Ali's honour, did not cease after his
departure. He spent the night at Chenderia, a castle built on a rock, whence the
town of Kardiki was plainly visible. Next day at daybreak Ali despatched
an usher to summon all the male inhabitants of Kardiki to appear before
Chenderia, in order to receive assurances of the pacha's pardon and
friendship. The Kardikiotes at once divined that this injunction was the precursor
of a terrible vengeance: the whole town echoed with cries and groans,
the mosques were filled with people praying for deliverance. The
appointed time arrived, they embraced each other as if parting for ever,
and then the men, unarmed, in number six hundred and seventy, started
for Chenderia. At the gate of the town they encountered a troop of
Albanians, who followed as if to escort them, and which increased in
number as they proceeded. Soon they arrived in the dread presence of Ali
Pacha. Grouped in formidable masses around him stood several thousand of
his fierce soldiery. The unhappy Kardikiotes realised their utter helplessness, and saw that
they, their wives and children, were completely at the mercy of their
implacable enemy. They fell prostrate before the pacha, and with all
the fervour which the utmost terror could inspire, implored him to grant
them a generous pardon. Ali for some time silently enjoyed the pleasure of seeing his ancient
enemies lying before him prostrate in the dust. He then desired them to
rise, reassured them, called them brothers, sons, friends of his heart.
Distinguishing some of his old acquaintances, he called them to him,
spoke familiarly of the days of their youth, of their games, their early
friendships, and pointing to the young men, said, with tears in his
eyes, "The discord which has divided us for so many years has allowed children
not born at the time of our dissension to grow into men. I have lost the
pleasure of watching the development of the off-spring of my neighbours
and the early friends of my youth, and of bestowing benefits on them,
but I hope shortly to repair the natural results of our melancholy
divisions." He then made them splendid promises, and ordered them to assemble in
a neighbouring caravanserai, where he wished to give them a banquet
in proof of reconciliation. Passing from the depths of despair to
transports of joy, the Kardikiotes repaired gaily to the caravanserai,
heaping blessings on the pacha, and blaming each other for having ever
doubted his good faith. Ali was carried down from Chenderia in a litter, attended by his
courtiers, who celebrated his clemency in pompous speeches, to which
he replied with gracious smiles. At the foot of the steep descent
he mounted his horse, and, followed by his troops, rode towards the
caravanserai. Alone, and in silence, he rode twice round it, then,
returning to the gate, which had just been closed by his order, he
pulled up his horse, and, signing to his own bodyguard to attack the
building, "Slay them!" he cried in a voice of thunder. The guards remained motionless in surprise and horror, then as the
pacha, with a roar, repeated his order, they indignantly flung down
their arms. In vain he harangued, flattered, or threatened them; some
preserved a sullen silence, others ventured to demand mercy. Then he
ordered them away, and, calling on the Christian Mirdites who served
under his banner. "To you, brave Latins," he cried, "I will now entrust the duty of
exterminating the foes of my race. Avenge me, and I will reward you
magnificently." A confused murmur rose from the ranks. Ali imagined they were consulting
as to what recompense should be required as the price of such deed. "Speak," said he; "I am ready to listen to your demands and to satisfy
them." Then the Mirdite leader came forward and threw back the hood of his
black cloak. "O Pacha!" said he, looking Ali boldly in the face, "thy words are an
insult; the Mirdites do not slaughter unarmed prisoners in cold blood.
Release the Kardikiotes, give them arms, and we will fight them to the
death; but we serve thee as soldiers and not as executioners." At these words; which the black-cloaked battalion received with
applause, Ali thought himself betrayed, and looked around with doubt
and mistrust. Fear was nearly taking the place of mercy, words of pardon
were on his lips, when a certain Athanasius Vaya, a Greek schismatic,
and a favourite of the pacha's, whose illegitimate son he was supposed
to be, advanced at the head of the scum of the army, and offered to
carry out the death sentence. Ali applauded his zeal, gave him full
authority to act, and spurred his horse to the top of a neighbouring
hill, the better to enjoy the spectacle. The Christian Mirdites and the
Mohammedan guards knelt together to pray for the miserable Kardikiotes,
whose last hour had come. The caravanserai where they were shut in was a square enclosure, open
to the sky, and intended to shelter herds of buffaloes. The prisoners
having heard nothing of what passed outside, were astonished to behold
Athanasius Vaya and his troop appearing on the top of the wall. They did
not long remain in doubt. Ali gave the signal by a pistol-shot, and a
general fusillade followed. Terrible cries echoed from the court; the
prisoners, terrified, wounded, crowded one upon another for shelter.
Some ran frantically hither and thither in this enclosure with no
shelter and no exit, until they fell, struck down by bullets. Some tried
to climb the walls, in hope of either escape or vengeance, only to be
flung back by either scimitars or muskets. It was a terrible scene of
despair and death. After an hour of firing, a gloomy silence descended on the place, now
occupied solely by a heap of corpses. Ali forbade any burial rites on
pain of death, and placed over the gate an inscription in letters of
gold, informing posterity that six hundred Kardikiotes had there been
sacrificed to the memory of his mother Kamco. When the shrieks of death ceased in the enclosure, they began to be
heard in the town. The assassins spread themselves through it, and
having violated the women and children, gathered them into a crowd to
be driven to Libokovo. At every halt in this frightful journey fresh
marauders fell on the wretched victims, claiming their share in cruelty
and debauchery. At length they arrived at their destination, where the
triumphant and implacable Chainitza awaited them. As after the taking of
Kormovo, she compelled the women to cut off their hair and to stuff with
it a mattress on which she lay. She then stripped them, and joyfully
narrated to them the massacre of their husbands, fathers, brothers and
sons, and when she had sufficiently enjoyed their misery they were again
handed over to the insults of the soldiery. Chainitza finally published
an edict forbidding either clothes, shelter, or food to be given to the
women and children of Kardiki, who were then driven forth into the woods
either to die of hunger or to be devoured by wild beasts. As to the
seventy-two hostages, Ali put them all to death when he returned to
Janina. His vengeance was indeed complete. But as, filled with a horrible satisfaction, the pacha was enjoying the
repose of a satiated tiger, an indignant and threatening voice reached
him even in the recesses of his palace. The Sheik Yussuf, governor of
the castle of Janina, venerated as a saint by the Mohammedans on
account of his piety, and universally beloved and respected for his many
virtues, entered Ali's sumptuous dwelling for the first time. The guards
on beholding him remained stupefied and motionless, then the most devout
prostrated themselves, while others went to inform the pacha; but no one
dared hinder the venerable man, who walked calmly and solemnly through
the astonished attendants. For him there existed no antechamber, no
delay; disdaining the ordinary forms of etiquette, he paced slowly
through the various apartments, until, with no usher to announce him,
he reached that of Ali. The latter, whose impiety by no means saved him
from superstitious terrors, rose hastily from the divan and advanced to
meet the holy sheik, who was followed by a crowd of silent courtiers.
Ali addressed him with the utmost respect, and endeavoured even to kiss
his right hand. Yussuf hastily withdrew it, covered it with his mantle,
and signed to the pacha to seat himself. Ali mechanically obeyed, and
waited in solemn silence to hear the reason of this unexpected visit. Yussuf desired him to listen with all attention, and then reproached him
for his injustice and rapine, his treachery and cruelty, with such
vivid eloquence that his hearers dissolved in tears. Ali, though much
dejected, alone preserved his equanimity, until at length the sheik
accused him of having caused the death of Emineh. He then grew pale, and
rising, cried with terror: "Alas! my father, whose name do you now pronounce? Pray for me, or at
least do not sink me to Gehenna with your curses!" "There is no need to curse thee," answered Yussuf. "Thine own crimes
bear witness against thee. Allah has heard their cry. He will summon
thee, judge thee, and punish thee eternally. Tremble, for the time is at
hand! Thine hour is coming--is coming--is coming!" Casting a terrible glance at the pacha, the holy man turned his back on
him, and stalked out of the apartment without another word. Ali, in terror, demanded a thousand pieces of gold, put them in a white
satin purse, and himself hastened with them to overtake the sheik,
imploring him to recall his threats. But Yussuf deigned no answer, and
arrived at the threshold of the palace, shook off the dust of his feet
against it. Ali returned to his apartment sad and downcast, and many days elapsed
before he could shake off the depression caused by this scene. But soon
he felt more ashamed of his inaction than of the reproaches which had
caused it, and on the first opportunity resumed his usual mode of life. The occasion was the marriage of Moustai, Pacha of Scodra, with the
eldest daughter of Veli Pacha, called the Princess of Aulis, because
she had for dowry whole villages in that district. Immediately after
the announcement of this marriage Ali set on foot a sort of saturnalia,
about the details of which there seemed to be as much mystery as if he
had been preparing an assassination. All at once, as if by a sudden inundation, the very scum of the earth
appeared to spread over Janina. The populace, as if trying to drown
their misery, plunged into a drunkenness which simulated pleasure.
Disorderly bands of mountebanks from the depths of Roumelia traversed
the streets, the bazaars and public places; flocks and herds, with
fleeces dyed scarlet, and gilded horns, were seen on all the roads
driven to the court by peasants under the guidance of their priests.
Bishops, abbots, ecclesiastics generally, were compelled to drink, and
to take part in ridiculous and indecent dances, Ali apparently thinking
to raise himself by degrading his more respectable subjects. Day and
night these spectacles succeeded each other with increasing rapidity,
the air resounded with firing, songs, cries, music, and the roaring of
wild beasts in shows. Enormous spits, loaded with meat, smoked before
huge braziers, and wine ran in floods at tables prepared in the palace
courts. Troops of brutal soldiers drove workmen from their labour with
whips, and compelled them to join in the entertainments; dirty and
impudent jugglers invaded private houses, and pretending that they
had orders from the pacha to display their skill, carried boldly
off whatever they could lay their hands upon. Ali saw the general
demoralization with pleasure, especially as it tended to the
gratification of his avarice. Every guest was expected to bring to the
palace gate a gift in proportion to his means, and foot officers watched
to see that no one forgot this obligation. At length, on the nineteenth
day, Ali resolved to crown the feast by an orgy worthy of himself. He
caused the galleries and halls of his castle by the lake to be decorated
with unheard-of splendour, and fifteen hundred guests assembled for a
solemn banquet. The pacha appeared in all his glory, surrounded by his
noble attendants and courtiers, and seating himself on a dais raised
above this base crowd which trembled at his glance, gave the signal to
begin. At his voice, vice plunged into its most shameless diversions,
and the wine-steeped wings of debauchery outspread themselves over the
feast. All tongues were at their freest, all imaginations ran wild, all
evil passions were at their height, when suddenly the noise ceased, and
the guests clung together in terror. A man stood at the entrance of the
hall, pale, disordered, and wild-eyed, clothed in torn and blood-stained
garments. As everyone made way at his approach, he easily reached the
pacha, and prostrating himself at his feet, presented a letter. Ali
opened and rapidly perused it; his lips trembled, his eyebrows met in
a terrible frown, the muscles of his forehead contracted alarmingly. He
vainly endeavoured to smile and to look as if nothing had happened, his
agitation betrayed him, and he was obliged to retire, after desiring a
herald to announce that he wished the banquet to continue. Now for the subject of the message, and the cause of the dismay it
|