CHAPTER XXVI.The prison in Sivas—Christian prisoners—The gaoler—Kurds and Circassians—A few Armenians—False statement made to me by Christians—The old murderer—The firman for his execution—Kept in suspense—Our Governor dislikes shedding blood—Issek Pacha—He may die—His residence—The law in Turkey about murder—Mercenary dealings—Lax justice.The following day I walked across the square to the prison. I had not said anything to the authorities in Sivas about my intended visit to this establishment. I wished to see it under its everyday aspect, and at the same time to find out if there were so many Christians prisoners as the Armenians in Yuzgat would have had me believe.I found the gaoler seated in the doorway, he was smoking a long pipe."Can I see the prison?" I asked."Certainly, Effendi."Going before me, he led the way to a loftybut narrow room. Here there were twenty-seven prisoners, clothed in rags and tatters; each man had his wrist fastened to his instep by a light iron chain. No gaoler slept in this room with the prisoners. They would not have had any difficulty in freeing themselves from their manacles had they tried to do so."What do you give them to eat?" I inquired."A loaf of bread (about 2 lbs. weight) every day, and some water," was the reply. "However, many of them have friends in the town, and they are supplied with provisions from outside.""What are the prisoners mostly here for?" I asked."For robbery and murder. We have a great many Kurds and Circassians for horse and cattle stealing. Then there are a few Armenians, the latter chiefly for crime connected with money matters.""How many prisoners are there altogether?" I remarked."One hundred and two.""And how many Christians?""Six; all the rest belong to Islam."As the population of Sivas is fairly dividedbetween the two sects, it was very flattering for the Armenians that there should be so few of their number amongst the prisoners. But, after what I had been told at Yuzgat, my belief in the truthfulness of their community was very much shaken.In another part of the gaol there were several prisoners without chains. They were walking about in an enclosed courtyard. One of them, an old man who was very much bowed down by years, appealed to us. Taking my hand he touched it with his forehead, and then besought me to speak to the Pacha for him."What is he here for?" I inquired."For murder," was the reply; "and a very cold-blooded murder too.""He is a Circassian," continued the gaoler, "and the firman for his execution arrived at Sivas two years ago.""Yes," said the old man, in a whining voice, "two years ago! and I have been kept in suspense ever since. It is an awful thing, Effendi—I never know from one hour to another that it may not be my last!""Why was he not executed?" I inquired of the official."Our Governor dislikes shedding blood," saidthe gaoler," and he has put the firman away in a drawer.""Yes," interrupted the aged murderer; "Issek Pacha is a kind man, he will not put me to death; but he is very old—he may die! The Governor who will succeed him might find the firman, and order me to be hanged!""Well, what do you want me to do?" I asked."Only, Effendi, to beseech the Pacha to tear up the firman!" cried the old man in imploring tones. "Let me end my years in the prison, for here every one is kind to me; and let me not be strangled at the end of a rope on the scaffold!""Well, I will speak to Issek Pacha," I said; and with difficulty escaping from the murderer, who threw himself on all fours and frantically embraced my legs, I walked to the governor's residence.He was seated on a sofa at one end of a large hall, and surrounded by attendants with documents awaiting his signature. He at once rose, and motioned to me to sit down by his side. After the customary salutations, I mentioned to him that I had just visited the prison and had seen the old murderer."Ah! you have seen him," said the Pacha gravely, at the same time slowly stroking his stomach."He is in a great state of mind, I believe, lest I should die before he does, and my successor order the sentence to be put into execution. But he has nothing to fear; I have the firman safe in my drawer, and am trying to arrange the matter with the relatives of the murdered man."It appears that there is a curious law in Turkey, to the effect that if a man has committed a murder, and the order for his execution has come from Constantinople, the Pacha whose duty it is to have the sentence carried out need not do so, provided that the relations of the murdered person request that the assassin's life may be spared.This frequently gives rise to mercenary dealings between the assassin and the relatives, for the latter hold his life in their hands. If the murderer is rich, he will often have to give up all his property; and then if the relations pardon him, the law enacts that he must spend fifteen years in gaol. The manner of carrying out this part of the sentence is extremely lax. Should the friends of the prisoner be able to scrape together enough money to satisfy the officials connected with the prison, the murderer will be allowed to escape and remain at large in his native town.Later in the day two Armenian gentlemen called upon me. Presently one of them remarkedthat Issek Pacha was immensely rich, and that many tales were in circulation about him."Yes," said his companion, "there is a story to the effect that one day the Grand Vizier was walking by the side of the Bosphorus with the late Sultan Abdul Aziz. A beautiful yacht, the property of Issek Pacha, happened to be anchored close to the royal palace. 'What a magnificent vessel!' said the Sultan. 'To whom does it belong?' The Grand Vizier," continued the Armenian, "did not much like the Governor of Sivas, and replied, 'It was the property of Issek Pacha, but he has sent it here to be placed at your majesty's disposal.' 'Write and say that I accept it with pleasure,' said the Sultan. The first notification which Issek Pacha had of this transaction was the receipt of an official letter from Constantinople enclosing the Sultan's thanks for the present."A subscription had been recently started in the vilayet or province of Sivas, with the object of collecting funds to enable the Government to continue the war. Ten thousand liras were collected. The Pacha sent the money to the Grand Vizier without exactly stating the sources from which it was derived. The minister at onceordered the receipt of this sum, as coming from Issek Pacha, to be acknowledged in the public journals; he also desired a secretary to write an official letter to the governor to thank him for his large donation, and say in the postscript that when the rest of the people in the province of Sivas had sent in their subscriptions, he was to forward them immediately to Constantinople. Our Pacha did not like this letter," continued my informant. "However, what could he do? he is an enormously rich man, and, though it went very much against the grain, he sent a fresh 10,000 liras to the Porte."It was clear that the Armenians did not love their Pacha. From what I subsequently heard, their dislike to him originates in the fact that he is not amenable to bribes. That he is not a miser can be easily shown. Misers are not in the habit of expending large sums of money in the construction of public buildings. Issek Pacha at the time of my stay in Sivas was having a large mosque built in the town of Erzingan, at his own expense. It was said that this building would cost him 40,000 Turkish liras.Three American missionaries called; they had been settled for several years in Anatolia, and had succeeded in making some converts amidst theArmenians, but they had not in any one instance induced a Mohammedan to change his faith.I inquired if it were true, as stated at Yuzgat, that Armenian boys and girls had been carried away from their parents, and shut up in Issek Pacha's seraglio."No! no," said one of my visitors. "At all events, we have never heard of anything at all authentic as to such proceedings." When I mentioned the subject of impalement, and asked if they had ever known of any Christians who had been impaled by the Pacha's orders, the three missionaries seemed very much surprised at the question, one of them observed that the Turks were by no means a cruel race; but that their system of administering justice was a bad one.I now learnt that the proprietor of the house in which I was living was a shoemaker. The Pacha had hired from him the apartments which I occupied, and which were generally given to travellers. Mohammed, when he gave me this piece of information, suggested that it would be a good opportunity for me to buy him a pair of boots."Such beautiful boots as there are downstairs," he continued, "the Effendi could get both his feet into one of them. They will keep out the cold. If I do not have something over myslippers I shall be frost-bitten before we reach Kars!"The proprietor brought the boots for my inspection. He had a very Jewish type of countenance, and at once commenced driving a bargain with Mohammed."But you told me downstairs that the boots were 125 piastres, and now you ask 165!" observed the Turkish servant indignantly."They are my boots, and not yours!" said the Armenian, "and I shall charge what I like for them!"It appeared that the difference of opinion between Mohammed and the shoemaker had arisen owing to the Armenian thinking that he would be paid incaime, or bank notes, and not in silver. Caime in Sivas had fallen to 165 piastres the lira. It was formerly 125; so by the depreciation of the paper currency the shoemaker would lose 40 piastres on every pair of boots he sold, if purchased from him at the present rate of exchange. Many of the Turks were alarmed at the constant fall in the value of their paper currency. They objected very strongly to being paid any large sums in Turkish bank-notes. According to the son of Crispin, only ten years previous the Government had issued an immensequantity of caime, and had said that in the following month of March this paper would be accepted in payment of the taxes."March arrived," continued the shoemaker, "we took our caime to the tax-collectors. They would not receive it. A vast number of the notes then issued are still in the possession of merchants in this town, and are valueless."When I was in Yuzgat Mr. Vankovitch had asked me to intercede with Issek Pacha for an Italian lady, the widow of a Pole who had died a few months previously in Sivas. The Pole had been the chief engineer in the district, and at the time of his death was owed about 120l. by the Turkish authorities. His widow had applied to the Pacha for this sum, but was refused payment on the ground that she had a son, and that her late husband's father was still living."You must write to your husband's Ambassador," said the Pacha, "and ask him to inform us how the law of succession is applied in his country, we will then pay you everything to which you are entitled."In the meantime an inhabitant took pity upon the Italian lady, and had received her into his harem. Here she was now living, and anxiously awaiting a reply from Constantinople to herletter. Months passed away, no answer came. The poor woman had exhausted the small resources which she possessed at the time of her husband's death.
The prison in Sivas—Christian prisoners—The gaoler—Kurds and Circassians—A few Armenians—False statement made to me by Christians—The old murderer—The firman for his execution—Kept in suspense—Our Governor dislikes shedding blood—Issek Pacha—He may die—His residence—The law in Turkey about murder—Mercenary dealings—Lax justice.
The following day I walked across the square to the prison. I had not said anything to the authorities in Sivas about my intended visit to this establishment. I wished to see it under its everyday aspect, and at the same time to find out if there were so many Christians prisoners as the Armenians in Yuzgat would have had me believe.
I found the gaoler seated in the doorway, he was smoking a long pipe.
"Can I see the prison?" I asked.
"Certainly, Effendi."
Going before me, he led the way to a loftybut narrow room. Here there were twenty-seven prisoners, clothed in rags and tatters; each man had his wrist fastened to his instep by a light iron chain. No gaoler slept in this room with the prisoners. They would not have had any difficulty in freeing themselves from their manacles had they tried to do so.
"What do you give them to eat?" I inquired.
"A loaf of bread (about 2 lbs. weight) every day, and some water," was the reply. "However, many of them have friends in the town, and they are supplied with provisions from outside."
"What are the prisoners mostly here for?" I asked.
"For robbery and murder. We have a great many Kurds and Circassians for horse and cattle stealing. Then there are a few Armenians, the latter chiefly for crime connected with money matters."
"How many prisoners are there altogether?" I remarked.
"One hundred and two."
"And how many Christians?"
"Six; all the rest belong to Islam."
As the population of Sivas is fairly dividedbetween the two sects, it was very flattering for the Armenians that there should be so few of their number amongst the prisoners. But, after what I had been told at Yuzgat, my belief in the truthfulness of their community was very much shaken.
In another part of the gaol there were several prisoners without chains. They were walking about in an enclosed courtyard. One of them, an old man who was very much bowed down by years, appealed to us. Taking my hand he touched it with his forehead, and then besought me to speak to the Pacha for him.
"What is he here for?" I inquired.
"For murder," was the reply; "and a very cold-blooded murder too."
"He is a Circassian," continued the gaoler, "and the firman for his execution arrived at Sivas two years ago."
"Yes," said the old man, in a whining voice, "two years ago! and I have been kept in suspense ever since. It is an awful thing, Effendi—I never know from one hour to another that it may not be my last!"
"Why was he not executed?" I inquired of the official.
"Our Governor dislikes shedding blood," saidthe gaoler," and he has put the firman away in a drawer."
"Yes," interrupted the aged murderer; "Issek Pacha is a kind man, he will not put me to death; but he is very old—he may die! The Governor who will succeed him might find the firman, and order me to be hanged!"
"Well, what do you want me to do?" I asked.
"Only, Effendi, to beseech the Pacha to tear up the firman!" cried the old man in imploring tones. "Let me end my years in the prison, for here every one is kind to me; and let me not be strangled at the end of a rope on the scaffold!"
"Well, I will speak to Issek Pacha," I said; and with difficulty escaping from the murderer, who threw himself on all fours and frantically embraced my legs, I walked to the governor's residence.
He was seated on a sofa at one end of a large hall, and surrounded by attendants with documents awaiting his signature. He at once rose, and motioned to me to sit down by his side. After the customary salutations, I mentioned to him that I had just visited the prison and had seen the old murderer.
"Ah! you have seen him," said the Pacha gravely, at the same time slowly stroking his stomach."He is in a great state of mind, I believe, lest I should die before he does, and my successor order the sentence to be put into execution. But he has nothing to fear; I have the firman safe in my drawer, and am trying to arrange the matter with the relatives of the murdered man."
It appears that there is a curious law in Turkey, to the effect that if a man has committed a murder, and the order for his execution has come from Constantinople, the Pacha whose duty it is to have the sentence carried out need not do so, provided that the relations of the murdered person request that the assassin's life may be spared.
This frequently gives rise to mercenary dealings between the assassin and the relatives, for the latter hold his life in their hands. If the murderer is rich, he will often have to give up all his property; and then if the relations pardon him, the law enacts that he must spend fifteen years in gaol. The manner of carrying out this part of the sentence is extremely lax. Should the friends of the prisoner be able to scrape together enough money to satisfy the officials connected with the prison, the murderer will be allowed to escape and remain at large in his native town.
Later in the day two Armenian gentlemen called upon me. Presently one of them remarkedthat Issek Pacha was immensely rich, and that many tales were in circulation about him.
"Yes," said his companion, "there is a story to the effect that one day the Grand Vizier was walking by the side of the Bosphorus with the late Sultan Abdul Aziz. A beautiful yacht, the property of Issek Pacha, happened to be anchored close to the royal palace. 'What a magnificent vessel!' said the Sultan. 'To whom does it belong?' The Grand Vizier," continued the Armenian, "did not much like the Governor of Sivas, and replied, 'It was the property of Issek Pacha, but he has sent it here to be placed at your majesty's disposal.' 'Write and say that I accept it with pleasure,' said the Sultan. The first notification which Issek Pacha had of this transaction was the receipt of an official letter from Constantinople enclosing the Sultan's thanks for the present.
"A subscription had been recently started in the vilayet or province of Sivas, with the object of collecting funds to enable the Government to continue the war. Ten thousand liras were collected. The Pacha sent the money to the Grand Vizier without exactly stating the sources from which it was derived. The minister at onceordered the receipt of this sum, as coming from Issek Pacha, to be acknowledged in the public journals; he also desired a secretary to write an official letter to the governor to thank him for his large donation, and say in the postscript that when the rest of the people in the province of Sivas had sent in their subscriptions, he was to forward them immediately to Constantinople. Our Pacha did not like this letter," continued my informant. "However, what could he do? he is an enormously rich man, and, though it went very much against the grain, he sent a fresh 10,000 liras to the Porte."
It was clear that the Armenians did not love their Pacha. From what I subsequently heard, their dislike to him originates in the fact that he is not amenable to bribes. That he is not a miser can be easily shown. Misers are not in the habit of expending large sums of money in the construction of public buildings. Issek Pacha at the time of my stay in Sivas was having a large mosque built in the town of Erzingan, at his own expense. It was said that this building would cost him 40,000 Turkish liras.
Three American missionaries called; they had been settled for several years in Anatolia, and had succeeded in making some converts amidst theArmenians, but they had not in any one instance induced a Mohammedan to change his faith.
I inquired if it were true, as stated at Yuzgat, that Armenian boys and girls had been carried away from their parents, and shut up in Issek Pacha's seraglio.
"No! no," said one of my visitors. "At all events, we have never heard of anything at all authentic as to such proceedings." When I mentioned the subject of impalement, and asked if they had ever known of any Christians who had been impaled by the Pacha's orders, the three missionaries seemed very much surprised at the question, one of them observed that the Turks were by no means a cruel race; but that their system of administering justice was a bad one.
I now learnt that the proprietor of the house in which I was living was a shoemaker. The Pacha had hired from him the apartments which I occupied, and which were generally given to travellers. Mohammed, when he gave me this piece of information, suggested that it would be a good opportunity for me to buy him a pair of boots.
"Such beautiful boots as there are downstairs," he continued, "the Effendi could get both his feet into one of them. They will keep out the cold. If I do not have something over myslippers I shall be frost-bitten before we reach Kars!"
The proprietor brought the boots for my inspection. He had a very Jewish type of countenance, and at once commenced driving a bargain with Mohammed.
"But you told me downstairs that the boots were 125 piastres, and now you ask 165!" observed the Turkish servant indignantly.
"They are my boots, and not yours!" said the Armenian, "and I shall charge what I like for them!"
It appeared that the difference of opinion between Mohammed and the shoemaker had arisen owing to the Armenian thinking that he would be paid incaime, or bank notes, and not in silver. Caime in Sivas had fallen to 165 piastres the lira. It was formerly 125; so by the depreciation of the paper currency the shoemaker would lose 40 piastres on every pair of boots he sold, if purchased from him at the present rate of exchange. Many of the Turks were alarmed at the constant fall in the value of their paper currency. They objected very strongly to being paid any large sums in Turkish bank-notes. According to the son of Crispin, only ten years previous the Government had issued an immensequantity of caime, and had said that in the following month of March this paper would be accepted in payment of the taxes.
"March arrived," continued the shoemaker, "we took our caime to the tax-collectors. They would not receive it. A vast number of the notes then issued are still in the possession of merchants in this town, and are valueless."
When I was in Yuzgat Mr. Vankovitch had asked me to intercede with Issek Pacha for an Italian lady, the widow of a Pole who had died a few months previously in Sivas. The Pole had been the chief engineer in the district, and at the time of his death was owed about 120l. by the Turkish authorities. His widow had applied to the Pacha for this sum, but was refused payment on the ground that she had a son, and that her late husband's father was still living.
"You must write to your husband's Ambassador," said the Pacha, "and ask him to inform us how the law of succession is applied in his country, we will then pay you everything to which you are entitled."
In the meantime an inhabitant took pity upon the Italian lady, and had received her into his harem. Here she was now living, and anxiously awaiting a reply from Constantinople to herletter. Months passed away, no answer came. The poor woman had exhausted the small resources which she possessed at the time of her husband's death.