The affairs of the Jewish communities, like those of the Christians, are managed by elders. The chief Rabbi has control over all matters regarding the religious and social interests, and is in direct communication with his superior at Constantinople.
CHAPTER VI.
THE CIRCASSIANS, TATARS, AND GYPSIES OF TURKEY.
The Circassians.—Their Immigration into Turkey in 1864—Their Camp—Chiefs and Slaves—Origin of the Charge of Cannibalism—Assistance of the Government and the Peasantry—Bulgarian Views of the New-comers—A Cherkess Girl—Sale of Circassian Women—Depredations—Cattle-lifting—Circassian Fellow-travellers in a Steamer—Appearance and Character—Scheme of Philanthropy respectfully offered to Russia.
The Tatars.—Their Arrival in the Dobrudcha with a Good Character, which they have since maintained—Their Excellent Qualities as Artisans—Religion—Women—Dirtiness—Tallow their Specialty—Rivalry of Jewish and Tatar Hawkers.
The Gypsies.—Legend of the Origin of the Name Chenguin—Abhorrence of them by the Turks—Religion and Superstitious Customs—Nomad Life—Two Classes—Physical Characteristics—Reported Witches—Indiscriminate Pilfering—A Case of Horse-stealing—Gypsy Cunning in the Market—Gypsy Avocations—Character—Gypsy Soldiers—Town Gypsies—Agricultural Gypsies.
In 1864 Russia, the present champion of the subject races of Turkey, was busy in her own vast dominions giving the coup de grâce to the unruly and only half-subjugated Circassians. These people, during a period of eighty years, resisted Russian aggression, defending their homes and liberties at the point of the sword, until the consequences of war, famine, and misery compelled them to yield to the superior power of the Czar. They were offered the choice of migrating to the lower steppes of that land, where Russian discipline alone could tame them, or of quitting the country. Some accepted the former alternative, while a large portion, consisting of about 300,000 souls, preferred to accept the hospitality of Turkey. Before leaving the shores of their beloved native land, collected on the beach like a herd of wild animals caught in a storm, they raised their voices and cried aloud against the injustice and cruelty they, with their wives and children, had received at the hands of the Muscovites. That voice reached Turkey, who, whatever her sins are, has never been known to refuse shelter and assistance to the homeless and the refugee. A proof of this may be found in the harbor offered within my recollection to the exiled Prince of Persia, Kouli Mirza, subsequently a pensioner of Great Britain; the famous Syrian chieftain, the Emir Beshir and his party; the Polish, Wallachian, and Hungarian refugees, and Abdul Kadir; the Algerine captive chief, who obtained permission from Napoleon to reside in Turkey. All these with their followers were received with hospitality, treated with kindness, and, in some cases, allowed pensions while they remained in the country.
This gift of Russia to Turkey was, as far as the female portion of it was concerned, as irresistible as the beauteous Pandora is said to have been to Epimetheus; and the Circassian ladies certainly brought with them the equivalent for Pandora’s famous box, in the shape of their kith and kin, who dispersed themselves all over the country, and, from that moment, have never ceased to do mischief, and justify Russia’s treatment of them. I have had opportunities of seeing these people since their arrival in Turkey, of watching them in the different stages through which they have passed, and noting the irreparable harm they have done to the country that offered them an asylum. On landing, about 2000 were quartered in a little wood. Emaciated by the long sufferings of the journey, covered with vermin, and half famished, they encamped on the damp soil in the early spring, some sheltering themselves under the trees, others under such tattered tents as they possessed, all closely packed together, the sick lying face to face with the dead, and the living moving, gaunt and ghostlike, among them, careless of everything except, getting money. As we neared the infected camp, bands of men and women came forward, holding their children by the hand and offering to sell them to any who would buy. The little wretches themselves seemed anxious to be separated from their unnatural parents, in the hope of getting food and better shelter. These Circassians were divided into two classes, the chieftains and the slaves. Each regarded the other with distrust; the one expecting from his slave the abject obedience he had been accustomed to receive in his native land; the other, aware of the change in his condition, ready to dispute this right with his former master.
Rations and clothes were distributed by the Turkish authorities, but the master took his slave’s portion and sold it for profit. The slave, on his side, stole what he could, and stripped even the dead of his last covering, leaving the corpse to be devoured by dogs. The sight of these bodies by the townspeople and others originated the idea that these people were cannibals, and this reputation preceding the Circassians, on their march further into the country, caused a panic on their route. Children ran away on their approach, and even the peasants themselves, instinctively aware of the pernicious nature of the element introduced among them, did their best to avoid giving them offence in refusing assistance.
The majority of the Circassians distributed in European Turkey are settled in the Dobrudcha; the rest were allotted patches of ground in all parts of Bulgaria and in other provinces, where the peasants were called upon to supplement the Government in providing them with cattle, grain, and all other requisites necessary to start them as settlers. The Bulgarian peasants stoically made it a point of duty to render every assistance in their power to the destitute and helpless creatures so strangely brought among them, and Circassian settlements soon started up like weeds by the side of the peaceful and thriving villages.
Four years later I had again occasion to pass through these settlements, and was much surprised at the transformation in the appearance of the Circassians. The men, dressed in their picturesque costume, wearing their arms, some of which were curious and rich pieces of Eastern workmanship, were lazily lounging about the commons of their villages; while the women, arrayed in their dress of red silk braided with gold, presided over their household duties. Some well-conditioned cattle, driven by Circassian youths, were grazing in the surrounding meadows. I stopped at a Bulgarian village opposite one of these settlements. It was a prasnik, or feast-day, and the Bulgarian youth and beauty, dressed in their best, were dancing the hora. As our party approached, the dance stopped, and the women, saluting me with a cheerful smile, regarded me with great curiosity. The headman of the village came forward, and, with a hearty welcome, offered me hospitality for the night. I had a long and interesting conversation with him and the elders of the little community upon the Circassian settlements. The Bulgarian peasants even at that early date had a long list of grievances against their new neighbors. Pointing to the opposite village, they assured me that its very foundation and prosperity was due to Bulgarian labor and money. “The Circassians,” said they, “lounge about the whole day, as you see them doing now. Their industry does not extend beyond the sowing of a few bushels of millet for the use of their families. Their cattle, as well as most of their belongings, are not for work, but are stolen property that they are freely allowed to appropriate to themselves to the prejudice of the peasants.” The poor men seemed much concerned at this new evil that had befallen them. “We never get redress for the wrongs done by our neighbors,” said they; “and if the Government functionaries continue to disregard our complaints, and to allow the depredations of these marauders to go unpunished as they have hitherto done, not only our property but our lives will be at their mercy.”