Читать книгу Under the Turk in Constantinople: A record of Sir John Finch's Embassy, 1674-1681 - G. F. Abbott - Страница 8

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Sir John regarded his audience with the Kaimakam as nothing more than a prologue: the real action had yet to begin. His first business was “to make my selfe an Ambassadour by delivering His Majesty’s Credentials to the Gran Signor and His Letter to the Gran Visir.”[33] But that could not be done at Constantinople. For over a dozen years the seat of the Ottoman Empire had been at Adrianople.

Mohammed IV. nourished an unconquerable detestation of Constantinople. It was said that when any of his Ministers ventured to urge upon him the advisability of showing himself there, he used to answer: “What shall I do in Stambul? Did not Stambul cost my father his life? My predecessors, were they not always the prisoners of rebels? Rather than go back to Stambul, I would set fire to it with my own hands.” True or apocryphal, these words describe the position accurately. Constantinople under the Sultans, like Rome under the Caesars, was the home of an insolent militia and a turbulent mob. The maladies which infected the Empire had their breeding-ground in it. It supplied a centre for all the intrigues and seditions which time and again had brought Turkey within an inch of disruption. Its revolutionary habits made it insecure. So the reigning monarch, except for occasional visits reluctantly undertaken and speedily terminated, kept away from the ill-omened city. Love of sport conspired with fear of death to drive the Grand Signor from his capital. For never had Turkey known so great a Nimrod. With other Sultans the chase had been a recreation; with Mohammed IV. it was an obsession—a monomania. “When He cannot range to Hunt,” says Finch, “He is never well.”[34] Hence his nickname of Avji, or the Hunter. The fatigues he underwent in the indulgence of this consuming passion are almost fabulous: in the height of summer as well as in the depth of winter, he sallied forth two or three hours before sunrise and spent the whole day dashing up hill and down dale like one possessed by a thousand restless demons. The courtiers whose privilege it was to ride in the Sultan’s train looked back with unfeigned regret to the soft vices of his father: what were the amorous whims of Ibrahim compared with the strenuous vagaries of Mohammed? But if he spared his courtiers as little as he spared himself, this sportsman spared his humbler subjects even less. Wherever he hunted, the inhabitants of the district were obliged either to provide beaters—sometimes as many as 30,000—or to beat the woods themselves. In the summer, they had, in addition, their crops ruined. In the winter, numbers of these wretched peasants, exposed to cold and hunger during several days and nights, paid for their master’s pleasure with their lives. So it came to pass that, while the titular capital of the Empire, in the absence of the Grand Signor’s luxurious Court, drooped like a flower in the shade, the Imperial sun shone upon Adrianople: the environs of that town affording exceptional facilities for the pursuit of game—of all pursuits the one this degenerate son of Osman loved the most and understood the best.[35]

To Adrianople, therefore, Sir John would have to betake himself. The journey was expensive, and the Levant Company extremely close-fisted. But in this juncture our Merchants could not stint the piper, seeing that they called the tune. For the presentation of his Credentials, though the first, was the least of the motives that impelled Finch to the Sublime Threshold.

It had been the ambition of every English Ambassador up to that date to renew the Capitulations originally granted to the English by Sultan Murad III. in 1580,[36] with a view to obtaining a confirmation and elucidation of old and the addition of new privileges. During the reign of the present Sultan the Capitulations had already been renewed twice, by Sir Thomas Bendyshe and by Lord Winchilsea; and Sir Daniel Harvey would have renewed them for the third time, if death had not prevented him. Sir John Finch was anxious to tread the path of his predecessors and to go farther than they.

There were, in the first place, tariffs to be revised and Customs-duties to be reduced, or defined to our advantage. For instance, by a Hattisherif, or Imperial decree, granted to Sir Sackville Crow, the Merchants of Aleppo had to pay 3 per cent ad valorem on the goods they imported—cloths, kerseys, cony skins, tin, lead—as well as on the goods they exported—raw linen, cotton yarn, galls, silk, rhubarb and other drugs. This decree determined what was to be called 3 per cent in terms of Turkish weights, measures, and money, leaving no loop-hole for extortion. But, resting as it did solely upon the Sultan’s word, it was regarded as reversible at his pleasure. Therefore, Sir John’s predecessors had laboured to have it inserted in the Capitulations, but without success, and the Hattisherif had gradually become so antiquated that not only the local Customs authorities refused to obey its provisions, but the Grand Vizir himself refused to enforce them. Finch wished to embody this decree in the Charter, so that the English should henceforth have not only the Grand Signor’s signature but also his oath, and convert what was a mere concession to merchants into a covenant between prince and prince.

Another Article coveted by the Ambassador aimed at securing a similar definition for duties levied upon our Factors at Smyrna and Constantinople. By the Capitulations they were obliged to pay 3 per cent on imports and exports. But differences had lately arisen between them and the Customs authorities concerning English cloth. The duty had been fixed when the English imported only a kind of coarse cloth called “Londras,” for which they were content to pay ad valorem; but since they had begun to import finer cloths they demurred, insisting that the Customs authorities were not entitled to more than the amount of duty established of old. The authorities, on their part, to avoid what they considered an attempt to cheat the Grand Signor, insisted that the duty should be paid in kind. Sir John had so far let the merchants compound with the authorities underhand, in order that our case might not be prejudiced by the judgment of inferior Courts; but it was his intention to have the matter settled at Adrianople: success on this point, he reckoned, meant some 60,000 dollars a year saved; and besides, it would enable the English to trade in cloth of equal fineness with that of their Dutch competitors on infinitely more advantageous terms—paying only two where the Dutch paid six dollars per piece.

Next, there was in our Capitulations a clause by which Englishmen engaged in litigation with natives for a sum above 4000 aspers were entitled to bring their case before the Divan. But this clause, being limited to private individuals, did not protect the English against the Grand Signor’s officials, whose arbitrariness grew in proportion to their distance from the “Fountain of Justice”; for they had it in their power to squeeze the defendants by detaining them and sequestering their ships and goods. The Ambassador wished to deprive the local tyrants of every temptation by introducing into the Capitulations an Article which authorised the English Consul on the spot to become surety for his countrymen.

Another abuse Finch sought to remedy was of a converse nature. Native defendants used to evade prosecution by putting in a claim not to be sued except before the Divan, where the practice was for the successful litigant to pay 10 per cent on the debt recovered, instead of the 2 per cent with which the provincial Cadis were nominally content. This frightened Englishmen from suing in the best Court of Justice, and gave the Cadis a chance of extorting from them 6 or 8 per cent. It was the Ambassador’s object to render such evasions and extortions impossible by obtaining an Article which made the fees uniform.

Further, Sir John wished to establish uniformity in the anchorage charges imposed upon English shipping, and to remove a chronic grievance by exempting a ship which had paid anchorage at one Turkish port from a like liability in another she might call at in the course of her voyage.

Such were the most important innovations Sir John contemplated. But the most piquant of all referred to the contingency of English factors in Turkey robbing their principals in England and shielding themselves from English justice by becoming Mohammedans—“turning Turks,” as the phrase went. This interesting problem had arisen out of a recent incident at Smyrna. In September 1673 a young gentleman of good family and rigid religious upbringing, one, too, who had a fair fortune of his own, was tempted by the Evil One to commit a deed that covered the English “Nation” in the Levant with shame. Availing himself of his partner’s absence, he appropriated a large quantity of goods and gold belonging to several merchants at home. Then he went before the Cadi and made a solemn profession of Islam, so that he might shelter himself under the Moslem Law, which admitted no Infidel’s evidence against a True Believer. We possess a full account of this scandalous affair from the pen of our Consul at Smyrna, who tells how, after seven months’ unremitting pursuit, he managed to recover the best part of the property and to reduce the culprit to such distress that at last the wretch humbly begged him to contrive his return to Christendom and Christianity in the frigate which had brought Sir John out.[37] As a safeguard against similar accidents, the Ambassador proposed that the Porte should be asked to allow in future Christian witnesses in such cases.[38]

Over and above all these matters of business, there was a point of honour to be struggled for—a point by which Sir John set immense store. The French enjoyed a privilege which the English had for generations craved in vain: the King of France, alone among Christian monarchs, was honoured by the Turks with the title of Padishah, or Emperor; the King of England was styled simply Kral, or King. The representatives of Queen Elizabeth, it seems, not caring much for titles, had acquiesced in that modest designation, and the precedent once established, all the efforts of later envoys had failed:[39] “So hard a thing it is to unrivitt what Time has fixd’,” moralised Sir John; but the hardness of the thing, instead of damping, fanned his ardour. If he could only get that high-sounding title for his sovereign, what a feather would it be in his cap! He had already, at his audience with the Kaimakam, taken the first step towards that goal. He had commanded his Interpreters most particularly not to forget, in translating his speech, to render the word “King” by “Padishah,” not “Kral”; and as they, aware of the tenacity with which the Turks clung to established customs, evinced some reluctance to attempt an innovation, Sir John had agreed, when he uttered the word “King,” to add “or Padishah,” thus securing the Interpreters by his authority. That was done accordingly, and “taken without any exception.” But it was only the thin end of the wedge. Sir John was resolved to prosecute “with my utmost Vigour” the insertion of the title into the new Capitulations;[40] and so to score off all the ambassadors who went before and bequeath a legacy of imperishable lustre to all those who should come after him.

A comprehensive programme, excellent in conception; but for its execution Sir John had to wait.

While the Grand Signor hunted, his Grand Vizir was busy conducting hostilities with Poland and, simultaneously, negotiations for peace. Sir John was kept informed of these proceedings by the Dutch Resident, who, with his wife, his children and his Secretaries, followed the Ottoman camp, having orders from his Government to watch the march of events in concert with the Emperor’s Resident. Holland and Germany were then at war with France, which endeavoured to bring about an agreement between Poland and Turkey and to induce the latter Power to turn her arms against the Emperor. England, on the other hand, had recently made peace with Holland, and the Dutch Resident, before his departure from Constantinople, had recommended his “Nation” to Sir John’s protection. He now wrote to him about the prospects of peace.

An envoy from the new King of Poland, John Sobieski, was expected in the Grand Vizir’s camp every moment; and in case of an agreement, it was said that the Ottoman Army would join the Polish in a common campaign against the Muscovite. What inclined the Turks to an accommodation, besides Sobieski’s conciliatory attitude, was the fear of an attack from Persia. So Sir John’s informant reported. “But, My Lord,” said Sir John, “notwithstanding these fayr Intimations of Peace there can be no certainty of it, For the Publique Prayers have bin made these ten dayes over the Empire for the Gran Signor, which begin not till He is out of His own Territory’s, and must continue till victory or Peace.... In the Interim it seems by the vast Quantity of Slaves that dayly from the Black Sea are sent hither, that the Turke meets with little opposition.”[41]

In the interim, we, for our part, cannot do better than take a look round at the place in which Sir John lived, the people among whom he moved, and the things that occupied his enforced leisure. Such a description will make the subsequent narrative more intelligible and instructive, without unduly delaying the action; for, truth to tell, many months had to elapse before there was any action worth mention.