CHAPTER XIII.
Preparations for leaving Acre—Anecdotes of Gezzàr Pasha—Intrigues of his Women in his absence with the Mamelukes—Suspicions and plans of Gezzàr—Slaughter of the Women—Alarm and Rebellion of the Mamelukes—They take refuge in a tower and threaten to blow up the powder magazine—They escape in the night—General defection of the troops, who storm Tyre, but are routed before Acre—Further vengeance of Gezzàr.
Preparations for leaving Acre—Anecdotes of Gezzàr Pasha—Intrigues of his Women in his absence with the Mamelukes—Suspicions and plans of Gezzàr—Slaughter of the Women—Alarm and Rebellion of the Mamelukes—They take refuge in a tower and threaten to blow up the powder magazine—They escape in the night—General defection of the troops, who storm Tyre, but are routed before Acre—Further vengeance of Gezzàr.
Active preparations were now made for continuing our journey along the coast. Horses were purchased for the servants,[58]and camels hired for the baggage. But, before dismissing the subject of Acre altogether,it will not be amiss to relate one or two anecdotes touching that extraordinary man, Hadj Ahmed el Gezzàr, a pasha, whose ferocious character seems to partake more of the brute than of human nature, but whose vices have in some measure been redeemed by his patronage of literary men and by the many useful buildings which he erected and establishments which he founded. Still, amongst the tyrants whom we read of in the history of the Turks, whose annals are fruitful in such monsters, few appear to have been more sanguinary than El Gezzàr. Although he had at this time been dead some years, yet his name was perpetually the theme of conversation; and traits of great vice and great virtue were everywhere recorded of him in a way to leave an impression on the mind that he was a man of no common stamp. The following is an imperfect narrative of the Mameluke sedition, an important event in his government, and which, arising from the suspicious jealousy of a lustful disposition, had nearly brought his career to an early termination.
El Gezzàr was, from causes which it is not necessary here to detail, appointed Pasha both of Damascus and Acre. His power was at this time at its height, and his cruelties were supposed to have reached theiracmèalso. It would seem, however, that the hitherto known scale of human tyranny was deficient with respect to him. As Pasha of Damascus, he was obliged to conduct the pilgrims to Mecca: heleft behind him a harým full of white beauties; it was said nearly one hundred. Of his Mamelukes, the whole number of whom was four hundred, half was thought unnecessary on the long journey on which he was gone, and therefore remained at Acre.
No sooner had El Gezzàr departed on the pilgrimage, than the eunuchs of the harým relaxed somewhat in their accustomed severity. At certain hours of the day, when the officers and attendants of the palace were moving about in the court below, the ladies would coax their black Arguses for permission to repair to the blinds of the windows to look at them. As they disputed on the respective merits of the gentlemen who passed, each would be led to select her favourite, and, by an easy transition, would feel desirous of informing him of her preference. Writing was dangerous, and a message still more so; but the language of flowers is understood in the East; and the present of a budding rose, a pink, or a carnation, is the billet-doux of the country.
Thus several intimations were given from those within to those without; and the agas and Mamelukes no doubt communicated their good fortune, each to his friend. Four or five of them entered into a secret resolution to attempt an entrance to the harým. One was the khasnadár, or treasurer of the Pasha, and brother of Selim, newly appointed pasha of two tails, the seraskier of El Gezzàr, and who had been left kekhyah, or vicegerent, in his absence.
The black eunuchs, who are the keepers of the harým, have each a key of the outer door. Whether by bribes or otherwise, the paramours contrived to obtain admission. After midnight, when all was quiet, the khasnadár and his companions opened the door; and, we may suppose, previously apprized where they were to go, found their expecting mistresses.
In the mean time the arduous and painful track of the Desert was traced and retraced, and El Gezzàr re-entered Acre. On his first visit to the harým, his keen eye soon told him that all was not as it used to be. To their submissive and servile manners was added something which showed him that other thoughts reigned in their bosoms besides dress and ornaments. He asked himself what it could be, and soon found a clue to guide his suspicions.
Sitting, one day, at a window that looked on the outer door of the harým, he observed a Christian, named Nummum, with a nosegay in his hand, knock at the door and deliver it to a slave. At night, when he retired to his harým, he thought he saw the same nosegay stuck carelessly under the tarbûsh[59]of one of his Sereahs, the lovely Zulyka, with the flowers hanging down and the stalks upwards according to the Eastern manner. “Come hither, girl: where did you get that nosegay?” said the Pasha. She readilyanswered, “Out of the garden.” He put on a smiling look—“Come, come, I know better than that: I saw Nummum, the Nazareen, with it. Tell me, my girl, who your admirer is, and I’ll see if I cannot give you to him in marriage. I have intended to find you a husband for some time.” The foolish Zulyka believed him to be in earnest, and told him she thought it came from the khasnadàr.
Previous to this accident, whilst a prey to secret jealousy, his suspicions had fallen on the Mamelukes, and he had resolved within himself that he would make such an example of some of those who had been left behind, as should deter any one in future from similar attempts on his honour. His scheme was deep-laid, and not the gust of sudden passion. One day he told Selim Pasha, his seraskier, that he was resolved on an incursion into the province of the Drûzes, against the Emir Yusef. Disputes between El Gezzàr and his neighbours were too common to cause this order to excite any great surprise. Letters were accordingly written to the neighbouring governors secretly to hold themselves and their troops in readiness, and the place of meeting was to be at Khan Hasbéyah.
Selim Pasha assembled the Hawáry, the Arnaûts, and the Dellati troops; whilst El Gezzàr was employed in mustering his Mamelukes, giving some leave to go, ordering some to stay behind, according to the selection he had made in his own mind of the guiltyfrom the innocent: and the khasnadár was among those who remained at Acre. Selim marched with his men, and arrived at Hasbéyah, where he encamped, as was agreed, to give time to the other chiefs to join him. Thus El Gezzàr had contrived, under pretext of a war, to get rid of all such as he thought likely to be troublesome to him in the execution of his bloody plan. For his Mamelukes, if together, formed a body of 400 youths, and were also much connected, by ties of intimacy and friendship, with most of the officers of the pasha’s troops: so that to attempt a signal revenge, when thus united, he considered too hazardous, and accordingly separated them by the above stratagem.
It was close upon the march of Selim that the accident of Zulyka’s nosegay occurred, and gave him a clue to begin his inquiries. No sooner had she, as above related, confessed to him her partiality for the khasnadár than, pretending to be satisfied, he rose from his seat, took his balta[60]with him, and walkedinto his garden. When there, he ordered Zulyka to be sent to him. She came; and the Pasha, no longer concealing his rage, furiously seized her by the hair and threw her on the ground: then placing his foot on her neck, and holding his balta as if he would strike her: “Wretch! tell me the truth,” he cried: “thou hast already confessed thyself guilty, and nothing but the denunciation of thy accomplices can save thee.” In vain she protested that she had no accomplices, was conscious of no guilt: he drew his sabre, and, with his own hand, severed her head from that bosom which in happier moments she had made the tyrant’s pillow! He commanded the corpse to be thrown into a well. It is related that three others, whose fidelity he most doubted, met with a similar fate at his hands: when fatigued, and aware how much more yet remained to be done, he sent for four Hawára soldiers, men naturally of a ferocious character, and, ordering fresh victims into his presence, bade them continue the work of death.
Quite unusual as it is for men even of a grave character, more especially soldiers, to enter the harým of a pasha, their summons caused much wonder among the Mamelukes in attendance in the seraglio. The cries of the women who had perished had already been heard: but the frequent use of the bastinado within made them at first pay little attention to such sounds. As they were busied in conjectures on what this proceeding could mean, a repetition of the cries was heard.These, uttered with all the vehemence of distress, suddenly ceased. They remained mute and listening:—again the piercing scream was heard, and again as suddenly was hushed: but the voice was different from the former.
Assembling round the harým door, they contrived to speak to one of the harým agasis. They induced him to come out, and then asked him what those cries meant. He pretended that there was nothing unusual going forward; but they were not to be deceived; and, by threats and promises, at last extracted the truth from him that the pasha was murdering his women. The Mamelukes heard no more. Conscious of a participation in their guilt, they looked at each other with appalled countenances, and the stoutest heart trembled for a moment. At last they took courage; and some of the most resolute, and perhaps the most culpable, spoke. They asked, “What is to be expected for us from a cruel and jealous disposition like El Gezzàr’s? we shall be the next victims; let us be true to each other, and either die together or save ourselves.” They immediately flew to their apartments, armed themselves, and prepared for resistance. We have seen that the khasnadár was one most implicated in this affair. As master of the treasury, he had his apartment in a tower, which formed part of the palace. This tower, for the sake of security, was more than commonly strong, with aniron door and iron grated windows, and it looked on the harým. To this building they betook themselves: they barred and blockaded the doors, and waited the event.
In the mean time, El Gezzàr, with his four executioners, was carrying on the horrid massacre, and fifteen young and beautiful creatures were murdered that night. When the slaughter was over, and the terror that prevailed within a little abated, some of his harým-agasis[61]took courage to tell him of the defection of his Mamelukes. He was furious: he sent to them immediately, and commanded them to quit the tower. Their reply was firm—“It is true we are your property; but you have imbrued your hands so deeply in human blood, and are so thirsty for ours, that our measures are irrevocably taken.” It so happened that the powder-magazine adjoined the treasury, and was a part of the tower. They added—“If you attempt to dislodge us from this place, we will fight as long as we can defend ourselves, and then will set fire to the powder-magazine, and signalize our end with the fall of El Gezzàr and the destruction of Acre; but if you will suffer us to depart unmolested, we will bid adieu to you and Acre for ever.” Frantic with rage, he fired on them with his own hand from the windows of his apartment; but was compelled to shelter himself, as they fired on him in return.
The news soon spread through the city: the extraordinary event of slaves in rebellion to their master, and the noise of musketry heard from within, with the various reports of a general extermination of the women in the harým: all was so full of horror, that the inhabitants retired trembling to their homes, and, shutting their doors, looked forward to the end with a mixture of curiosity and consternation. The segmàn bashi, or commander of the infantry, was the only military officer in the place: he thought it prudent to remain quiet, and the pasha did not call on him to act.
In the mean time, no one dared approach the pasha; he foamed and raged, and, in his fury, would listen to no reasoning. At length, the mufti and some others of the principal inhabitants resolved to enter his presence, cost what it might. “We will bring him to reason if we can, and if we cannot,” they said, “he must kill us.” They approached him, and began to intercede for the lives of the Mamelukes: they then spoke a little plainer, and told him he only endangered his own life and that of all the citizens by persisting in confining the Mamelukes to a place where one desperate act might blow them all to atoms. Finally, they begged him, for the honour of a pasha’s name and the odium it would bring upon him, to give the culprits a free passage. El Gezzàr seemed to yield: he said “He would not hinder their departure, provided they would only appear in his presence thathe might reproach them with their ingratitude.” But the Mamelukes declined this dangerous proposition, and adhered to their resolution: so that the good counsel of the elders profited nothing, and probably left a rancour against themselves in the heart of the tyrant.
For three days, matters remained in this uncertain state. On the fourth, it was known that the Mamelukes, to the number of fifteen, had found means to escape, being those arrived at manhood, whilst the boys were left behind to their fate. Those who had got away bent their steps towards Khan Hasbéya, and, on the fifth day, in the morning, arrived at Selim Pasha’s tent. Great was the surprise that their appearance excited: the Mamelukes of the pasha, with their horses fatigued, with no corn, no customary pomp—all announced that something was not right. When the khasnadár reached his brother’s tent, he related to him what had happened; and, when he had brought his story to the period of their taking refuge in the tower, he continued—“Thus shut up, and seeing no movement among the soldiers or inhabitants in our favour, we thought it better to contrive some plan of escape. You know that window of the tower which opens on the ditch: you are aware, likewise, that the money chests deposited in the treasury are all bound with large cords: having, therefore, with our baltas and battleaxes worked out some of the iron bars, we made use of the ropes to let ourselves down.But first we ransacked the chests, and each loaded his pockets and girdle with as much money as he could take; then, one by one, we descended through the window: by the care of some well-wishers in the city, horses were waiting for us, and we found ourselves to be fifteen in number and outside of the walls. Here we sent defiance to the pasha, and told him he might now take us if he could.
Selim Pasha did not deliberate long on which side he should range himself. He was a Mameluke, and his brother was a leader of the fugitives: he therefore assembled all the principal officers of the camp, and addressed them thus—“You see here a body of men whom the jealousy of a cruel pasha would have sacrificed; but who is that pasha? A rebel to the Porte, driven out of Damascus, and a usurper of the government he holds. For myself,” said he, “you know the sultan some time since made mewaly[62]of Sayda and its dependencies: to him I owe allegiance, and not to one who is denounced by him as a rebel. Let us then, in avenging the wrongs of these injured men, be faithful to our sovereign: let us—instead of wantonly attacking a prince, against whom we were not sent on the grounds of real aggression, but to remove us out of the way, in order that a tyrant might with more facility execute his bloody ends against our brethren—let us unite ourselves with this prince, and, marching against the monster, offer hishead as a just tribute to the Porte.” His advice was received with acclamations. A horseman was despatched to Emir Yusef, who, when acquainted with the defection of the Mamelukes, immediately joined the league and aided it with money and troops. After some days, the allied forces marched to Sayda, and there they remained for a time to mature their plans.
El Gezzàr was quite deserted: his soldiers had abandoned him, and he was loved by no one; yet was he not dismayed. He sent for his counsellors, one by one, and asked them what they would advise him to do: almost all told him his case was desperate, and that he would do well to fly. “Take what you will with you,” said they, “but leave us, and save the town from the sufferings of a siege.” He scorned their advice. “Go, my friends: God will manage it; and I shall some day have the pleasure of thanking you for your prudent counsels.”
Hadj Ali, the author of this narrative, was a soldier under Yahya Aga, who commanded a few troops, and was, when these events happened, encamped about three hours’ march from Acre. When Yahya heard what was going forward, he hesitated whose cause he should espouse, whether that of the pasha at Acre or of the pasha at Sayda. Ali signified that he was ready to follow him wherever he chose to go; but added that, if he thought obedience to an unjust master was a less sacred duty than fidelity to his comrades, with whom he had been bred up and hadfought, then it was with those comrades he must connect his fortunes and conquer or perish with them. “And such is my resolve,” replied the Aga: “their fate and mine shall be one!” He accordingly struck his tents, and joined Selim Pasha, who had quitted Sayda, and was lying before Tyre.
Tyre had remained faithful to El Gezzàr, and shut its gates against Selim. Although the town had no garrison, and the whole population did not amount to more than 2,000, they were willing to try the issue of a contest. But, on the following day, Selim stormed and sacked it, finding a very considerable booty. The women were violated; the houses plundered; and what could not be carried off was sold to camp followers, or thrown away in waste. Property of all kinds lay scattered in the streets, and all the excesses of Turkish warfare were here committed.
On the next day but one, Selim Pasha reached the environs of Acre, and encamped at Abu Ataby, where were provisions in abundance. What was el Gezzàr now to do? Soldiers he had none, and but few friends. His fate seemed certain, and every body foretold his ruin. Still, however, he remained firm. By means of emissaries, he contrived to disseminate a spirit of defection among the troops of his enemy, in holding forth the immense rewards that would attend those who should show themselves faithful to him. He insinuated that the lot of a brave soldier could only be prosperous under a warlike leader like himself, whosecontentions with his neighbours, however they might distress the labouring and manufacturing classes, filled the purses of the troops. These, with many other arguments adapted to the occasion, had the desired effect.
El Gezzàr then armed a number of labourers, who happened to be in Acre employed in buildings which he was erecting, and joined them to a few regular soldiers. They were instructed that, at midnight, when the enemy might be supposed asleep, they were to steal forth secretly until they came within the precincts of the camp. Their watchword was to beBalta, the instrument that El Gezzàr always carried about him, and the very name of which, from the fatal purposes to which he had so often turned it, inspired terror. On arriving at the camp, they were to set up a cry of Balta, balta, and to fire their muskets with as much noise as possible. It was supposed by him that the enemy, believing themselves attacked by a larger force than they really were, would be panic-struck, and might take to flight: and his anticipations were verified.
The precautions used to prevent surprise in European camps are unknown or seldom practised in those of Orientals. Fear magnified the number of the assailants, and the rebels fled in disorder. Selim Pasha and Suliman Aga (afterwards pasha of Acre) hovered for some time round the scene of action; until, finding that all was lost, they bent their way to Damascus;and, the stragglers on the road joining them here and there, they made up a body of 300 or 400 men. The Delatis and Arnaûts retired to Nazareth, and soon afterwards, on professing their penitence, were received again into the service of El Gezzàr.
From Damascus Selim Pasha took the road to Aleppo, and from Aleppo went to Constantinople, plundering the villages in his route for subsistence. On arriving in Constantinople, he was seen by the Sultan, on a day of royal diversion, and had the honour of exhibiting together with his Mamelukes in some martial exercises before him. The Sultan took notice of them, and they were sent to the army, at that time in the field against the Russians, with a promise that, when the campaign was over, Selim Pasha should return to Syria with firmans to remove El Gezzàr from his government. But Selim Pasha was killed in the storming of Ismael, and El Gezzàr thus lost a troublesome enemy.
Of the Mamelukes left behind in the tower some were pardoned, some were mutilated by the loss of their noses, eyes, or ears; and some were punished still more severely. The rage of El Gezzàr was not yet appeased. He embarked the remainder of his women for Cairo, where he caused them to be sold. He vented his impotent fury against the trees that had afforded shade to their guilty loves, and against every object that could remind him of his dishonour. Will it be credited? The very cats of the harýmwere destroyed, that nothing might exist that had witnessed his shame.[63]