In his wildest nightmares Sir John had never seen himself living in a Ghetto. And this was no nightmare, but hard, solid, filthy reality. A spasm of rage came over him—rage at everybody, but more especially at Signor Antonio Perone who had had two months in which to provide for his honourable accommodation. He swore at the miserable Dragoman as perhaps no ambassador had ever sworn before. “He vowed,” says our Treasurer, whose mischievous spirit had been moved to impish glee, “he vowed with the most execrable protestations never to be reconciled to him.” He ordered him off to Constantinople in twenty-four hours, else he would have him drubbed.[85] Apparently Sir John knew not that the magnificent Marquis de Nointel had been treated to precisely the same fragrant surprise;[86] or if he did, the knowledge carried no comfort.
Signor Antonio retired to his private lodging to wait for the ambassadorial wrath to evaporate; and three days later, by the mediation of Mr. Hyet, the oldest English merchant, he received plenary absolution. Meanwhile, after an unforgettable night in that salubrious abode, Sir John had sent his Chief Dragoman, the venerable Signor Giorgio Draperys, to the Grand Vizir to beg for a better residence. With gratifying celerity the Vizir turned a rich Jew out of his home; and the Ambassador, accompanied by his staff and the friend of his bosom, removed thither, still keeping the other house for the servants. Mr. North turned Signor Antonio out of his quarters and made himself comfortable therein. The others shifted as best they could, until little by little every infidel dog found his kennel.
Quickly as these transmigrations were effected, Sir John had had time, in the midst of them, to save the King of England’s honour from some fresh perils that menaced it. There were at Adrianople several foreign diplomats: Count Kindsberg, the German Emperor’s Resident; the Ambassador, as they called him, of the little Republic of Ragusa; and M. de La Croix, second secretary to the Ambassador of France. Contrary to Sir John’s expectations, none of these, save the Ragusan, had sent out to meet him on his approach to the city. So, the instant he set foot to earth, he “searchd’ into the Point Whether the Emperors Resident was wont to send to meet the Ambassadour of France,” and heard that “for certain, yes.” Immediately after, one of the Resident’s gentlemen came to tell Sir John that the Caesarean Excellency desired to wait upon him. Sir John answered that the house he was in “was so infamous” that he could receive no one, but when in a convenient lodging he would invite the Resident, “unlesse He, as I was informd’, had sent to meet the French Ambassadour, which He had not done to me.” Similar overtures from the French diplomat met with a similar rebuff. Count Kindsberg hastened to explain that his Excellency was terribly misinformed: “He never sent to meet the Ambassadour of France in his life, but he had sent to meet me, had not the Gran Signor at the same time sent for Him to Audience; which I knew to be true, and amongst other Reasons this was one that he would have sent out to meet me, because my Lord of Winchelsea did so to Count Lesley”—Walter Leslie, the Scottish Ambassador Extraordinary from the Emperor to Turkey, whose mission had created a great sensation ten years before.[87] Mollified by these explanations, Sir John intimated to the Resident that he “would gladly receive His Favour in another House.” When he moved to that new house, Count Kindsberg came; Sir John returned his call two days after; and their intercourse acquired a distinct flavour of familiarity thenceforward. The Resident turned out to be “a Civill understanding Gentleman. He invites me to Dinner, and I Him, and frequently comes to visitt me.”
Would that all “Publick Ministers” were equally reasonable! “But Monsieur Le Croix (sic) Huffs and gives out that He could not come to see me being once refusd.” He had reported this affront to his master and was waiting for instructions. When these arrived, however, La Croix called to apologise. He was, he said, “tender of His Master’s Honour”—Nointel “had raisd’ Him from nothing, and all he had was owing to Him.” The Frenchman’s words and his tone appealed to Sir John’s magnanimity. With a gracious air and a smiling look, he told the penitent that “He did ill to take exceptions at that at which Ministers of farr greater figure took none, and so Wee friendly parted.”[88]
It was well for Finch that he established good relations with these gentlemen: their society would go a long way towards making his sojourn in that environment bearable. The Greeks have a saying, “Without fair as a doll, within foul as the plague.” To this description Adrianople answered admirably. Despite its Seraglio, its mosques, its baths and bazaars, it was, in our Chaplain’s words, a “very mean and beastly” city, and just now it was crowded to overflowing by all sorts and conditions of strangers drawn to the spot by the lure of profit or pleasure, or by the Grand Signor’s commands. And of all quarters of this dirty and congested city the most dirty and congested was the Jewish quarter where our pilgrims had their habitation: a slum that offended every sense at every hour. At night rest was impossible: a multitude of pests conspired to murder sleep: rats, mice, bugs and fleas indoors; outside, carts rumbling over the rough cobbles, and legions of pariah dogs brawling in the moonlight. During the day, as during the night, “the stink of the Jewes did give us no small purgatory,” wails the Rev. John. Even the sense of novelty could not atone for the sense of discomfort and disgrace.
The only compensation for Sir John was the promptitude with which the Grand Vizir granted him an audience, in little more than a week after his arrival (May 19). This smoothed somewhat the Ambassador’s ruffled feathers and, moreover, induced the consoling belief that his purgatory would, at all events, not last long. Why should it, anyhow? Lord Winchilsea had started for Adrianople on December 5th (1661); by January 13th he had the Capitulations renewed with all the additions obtainable; and by January 23rd he was back at Pera.
The audience, as all men conversant with such matters assured Sir John, was “very courteous and very honorable”—even the most captious eye could detect no “puntiglio” to cavil at.
Like all state apartments in Turkey, the room in which this function took place had for its main feature a Soffah—part of the floor raised a foot or so higher than the rest and furnished with cushions and bolsters. When an ambassador was received with great formality two chairs appeared on this dais: one for him and the other for the Vizir; when the audience was less formal, the Vizir sat cross-legged on his cushions in the corner, and the ambassador had a stool set for him upon the dais—a point worth remembering. It was upon such a stool that Sir John was now placed, while his suite stood close behind him, on the common level of the floor. Round about the room stood many chaoushes and other attendants, motionless and mute. At the end of a quarter of an hour, there was a loud “Whish! whish!”—to impose silence, rather unnecessarily—and the Grand Vizir entered.
He was a man of about forty, of medium height and somewhat inclined to corpulence. He had a small round face thinly fringed by a short black beard, and a smooth erect forehead crowned, as far as his turban permitted to see, by thick, close-cut hair. His complexion was of a dark brown, and as his cheeks were deeply pitted with small-pox the general impression was hardly one of enchanting beauty.[89] Walking with a slight limp and a slight stoop—though young in years, Ahmed Kuprili was already loaded with infirmities—he dropped down upon the cushions and crossed his legs.
The Ambassador’s stool was moved nearer to the Vizir, and, once seated again, his Excellency delivered the royal letter,[90] saying that his Master commanded him to do so and withal to give him a message by word of mouth: namely, to solicit for his Majesty’s subjects trading in the Grand Signor’s territories protection in the enjoyment of all their privileges and immunities, according to the Capitulations, assuring him, on the other part, of his Majesty’s desire, not only to confirm the good relations already existing between the two Courts, but also to improve them. He was told in reply that, as long as his Master observed the laws of friendship with the Grand Signor, the Grand Signor would reciprocate. These mutual civilities were exchanged through the Dragoman of the Porte, Dr. Mavrocordato, who stood at the edge of the Soffah, in stereotyped phrases which had suffered no variation since the foundation of the Ottoman Empire.