The Vintage: A Romance of the Greek War of Independence

"Is it not a thing to make the heart beat fast?" he went on. "I would not take the pontiff's chair in Rome in exchange for such a position. A new church, or rather, the old grown gloriously young again, a spiritual kingdom throned in the hearts of men, yet with the allegiance not only of their souls, but of their bodies and their earthly blessings. And I," he said, rising, "I, the unworthy, the erring, yet called by a call that I may not disobey."

But Nicholas, frowning deeply, interrupted him.

"I ask your pardon, father," he said, "but is it well to talk of that? Surely in this great idea which you have put before us there is nothing personal. It is the kingdom of God of which we speak."

Germanos paused a moment.

"You are right," he said; "you have but reminded me of my own words; it is in His name and none other that I speak."

"There is another point of view, father," continued Nicholas, "which, with your permission, I will put before you. I speak, I hope, as it is fitting I should speak to you; and yet, in mere justice to the position my cousin and I hold, we must tell you that there are other interests to be considered. For days past there has been division among us, here not so widely as at other places, but division there is – and that, too, at a time when anything of the kind is most disastrous. There are in the camp priests and primates who have been saying to the men, but not with your nobleness of aim, that which you have indicated to us. This war, they tell them, is a war of religion; they are the champions and ordained ministers of religion, and it is to them the soldiers' obedience is due. What did they get for their pains? A shrug of the shoulders, insolence, perhaps the question, 'Are we fighting or are you?' And they answer, 'For whom are you fighting? For your captains and leaders, let us tell you; it is they who will reap the fruits of your toil; it is they who will get the booty for which you have spent your blood and left your homes.' Now, before God, father, that is a satanic slander; but if this talk continues, who can tell but that it may become in part true? For as the army increases we have to appoint fresh captains, and often it happens that some band of men come in with their appointed leader, whom we have to accept. These are not all such men as my cousin and I should naturally appoint; and what we fear is this; and our fears, I am sorry to say, are justified by what is taking place at Monemvasia. These captains talk to each other, saying, 'The primates are trying to get the whole spoils of the war for themselves. Two can play at that game. If this war is for the enrichment of the leaders, let it be for the enrichment of the leaders who have done the work.' And some of this talk, too, has reached the men, with this result: some believe what the primates say, and already distrust their captains; some distrust the primates, and say that it is not they who are doing the work, and why should they look for wages? But the most part of those who have heard this seditious talk distrust both, and are each man for himself. And all this is the fault of the primates. This is no place for them; for those of them, at least, who have taken no part in the war. It is the work of soldiers we are doing, not the work of priests. The danger is a real one; as you say, it is a danger from those who sit at meat with us, and more deadly and more intimate than that we experience from our enemies. There was none of it before the primates came among us. I have said."

Nicholas spoke with rising anger; the thought of these mean, petty squabbles poisoned the hopes which had ruled his life for so long. Were they all to be wrecked in port on the very eve of their fulfilment? Strong as the Greek position now was, inevitable though the fall of Tripoli appeared, yet he knew that an army demoralized is no army at all. Was the honey to turn to bitterness? Was that fair day that seemed now dawning to come in cloud and trouble?

Germanos had listened with growing resentment, and he burst out in answer:

"You are wrong, Nicholas; believe me, you are wrong! It is the primates who have to put up with insult. This army of yours is a band of wanton children, long chid and beaten, breaking out from school. It knows neither reverence nor respect, where respect is due."

"Ah, pardon me again," said Nicholas; "the first duty of the soldier is obedience to those who are put over him as captains and commanders. To them he has never yet failed in respect nor in obedience."

"These soldiers are men, I take it," said Germanos, "and the first duty of man is to obey those who are over him in the Lord."

"But, father, father!" cried Nicholas, pained himself, but unwilling to give pain, "is this a time, now when we are in the middle of the operations of the war, to talk of that? Of course you are right; that every Christian man believes. But our hands are full, we have this siege before us, and it is injudicious of these primates to stir up such talk now. Oh, I am no hand at speaking; but you see, do you not, what I mean? It is the Lord's work, surely, but the means by which it is accomplished is swords in unity, men bound together by one aim."

"And that aim the glory of God," said Germanos.

Nicholas made a hopeless gesture of dissent and shook his head, and Petrobey, who had hitherto taken no part in the discussion, broke in:

"Surely we can do better than wrangle together like boys," he said. "It is no light matter we have in hand. But let us talk practically. What Nicholas says is true. Father, there is mischievous talk going on, and there was none till the primates came. What do you propose to do? Will you help us to stop it? Will you speak to the men? Will you tell them that, though you are a primate yourself, yet you believe in the integrity of the military commanders, and that though our soldiers' duty as men exacts obedience to the rulers of the church, yet their duty as soldiers exacts obedience to their commanders, and trust in them?"

The question was cleverly chosen. To refuse to do as Petrobey asked would, without an explanation, be wholly unreasonable; to comply would be tantamount to telling the soldiers to disregard the primates. Germanos hesitated a moment.

"I do not wish to put myself outside my province," said Germanos, "and I am here only as the head of the church, and not as a military leader. To interfere with the ordering of the army is not my business."

"Then how much less," said Nicholas, eagerly, "is it the business of your inferiors to do so? Will you, then, tell them to follow your own most wise example?"

Germanos was silent, but his brain was busy, and yet he had no reply ready.

"See," said Nicholas, "a little while ago you asked us to help you, but now we ask you to help us, for the danger is no less to your party than to ours. Speak to the primates if you will, or speak to the captains; they will perhaps listen to you."

"At any rate, I asked not your help against my own subordinates," said Germanos, in a sudden flash of anger; "if you want help against your own men, I can only say – " and with that he stopped short, for an insult was on his lips.

Petrobey sat down again with a little sigh, but Nicholas answered Germanos according to his own manner.

"Then if you are so good as to think that our own affairs are out of hand," he said, with angry sarcasm, "it will be time to think of helping you when we have put them in order. Let me quote your own words: 'I am not jealous for myself, but I am very jealous for the honor of the army, and I have myself a pledge of the favor of God on my undertaking.'"

Germanos held up his hand pacifically.

"We shall gain nothing by quarrelling," he said, "and I am in the wrong, for I was the first to speak in anger. What is this pledge of which you speak?"

Nicholas told him of the vision at Serrica, and when he had finished it was gently that he answered.

"Surely the Mother of God looks with favor on you, Nicholas!" said the archbishop; "and for her sake, if not for our own, let us see if we cannot put an end to these unhappy divisions of which you tell me. You lay the whole blame on my order; are you sure that you are not hasty?"

"There was at least no seditious talk before the primates came," said Nicholas.

"I, then, have a proposal to make," said Petrobey, "and it is this: The men are divided; some side with the primates, some with us. The two parties are bitterly opposed. If a supreme council was appointed, consisting of primates and commanders, might not the division be healed?"

Nicholas shook his head.

"I do not wish to make difficulties," he said, "but the case is this: The siege of Tripoli is the work of the army. What have the primates to do with it? I might as well demand a seat in the synod of the church."

Germanos's eyes brightened. He realized the impossibility of pushing his first demand just now, and this, at any rate, would be a step gained. For the rest, he trusted in his own ability to soon get in his hands the chief share of the work of the supreme council, which Petrobey had suggested, and with the most diplomatic change of front, he proceeded to conciliate Nicholas.

"My dear Nicholas," he said, "I wish with all my heart you had a place in the synod of the church. As a priest you would have soon earned one; but you selected another vocation, in which I need give no testimony to your merits. But consider, dear Nicholas, this is a national movement, and the church is a great national institution, and has always had a voice, often the supreme voice, in the direction of national affairs. You must not think we want to interfere in military matters; you will not find Charalambes, for instance, or, for that matter, me, wishing to lead a sortie or direct the fire. In England, as you know, there are two great legislative houses – one composed of the lords of the land, without initiative, but with the power of check; the other, the elected body – the voice of the people. You generals are the elected body, on you the initiative depends; but we primates correspond to the titular power. And where can you find so splendid and august a government as that? See, I come to meet you half-way; it is not the time now to talk of the supremacy of the church, meet me half-way, and allow that in national concerns we should not be without a voice. There are two powers in this new Greece; if they are in accord, the danger we have spoken of melts like a summer mist."

Nicholas looked across at Petrobey.

"You would have me follow?" he asked. "Well, I consent."

Germanos was careful not to betray too much elation at the success of this scheme, and he soon spoke of other things. Prince Demetrius Ypsilanti, whom the Hetairia, or Club of Patriots in north Greece, had chosen to take the place of his treacherous and inefficient brother, was shortly to come to the Peloponnesus. Hitherto the proceedings of the club had been very secret and their funds intrusted to a few agents, such as Nicholas and Germanos; but the rapid success of the war, and its still more brilliant promise – for in north Greece as well it had spread like fire – had rendered all further concealment unnecessary, and they came forward now as the authors of the liberty of Greece, a credit which was, through their admirable agents, due them, and they were exercising their undoubted right in giving the command to whomever they would. Germanos also assured Petrobey and Nicholas that they were both in the highest favor with the club, and that Prince Demetrius was most amicably and warmly inclined to them. He might also tell them that the prince had no intention of interfering in the conduct of the war, which he was content to leave in more experienced hands; but he was coming as the head of the Hetairia, which had organized and financed the outbreak of the war, and he was sure, so thought Germanos, to approve of the step they had decided on, to appoint a national senate, and no doubt he would take his place at the head of the assembly.

CHAPTER VII

THE RULE OF THE SENATE

From this conversation among the three sprang into being the Peloponnesian Senate, than which no more futile apparatus has ever been devised to guide the affairs of a nation. From the first harmony was impossible between the two parties, and the only result it achieved worth mentioning was that it diverted the time and energies of the military leaders from the work to which every muscle should have been strained – the fall of Tripoli. So far from reconciling the divisions among the soldiers, it merely encouraged partisanship, for it was known that the senate could not agree on any point worth the deliberation. Petrobey was more than once tempted to resign his seat, but to do that was only to throw the wavering balance of power firmly into the hands of the primates, while between Nicholas and Germanos there ripened, as bitter as a Dead-Sea apple, an enmity only to be reconciled at a death-bed, for Germanos, so Nicholas considered, and did not scruple to say, had deceived both him and his colleague. He had professed the highest, most altruistic aims; what guided his conduct was the most selfish and personal policy. This, it is to be feared, was partly true, though not entirely, for Germanos had been sincere when he opened to the two his scheme for the glory of the church; but finding supremacy, like the fruit of Tantalus, still dangling beyond, but seemingly only just beyond, his reach, and stung intolerably at his failure, the personal motive crept in, and before long usurped the place of the other.

Nicholas had hoped great things from the arrival of the prince; but they, too, were doomed to be disappointed. He was given an enthusiastic welcome by the army, the majority of whom were sickened with this atmosphere of intrigue, and Petrobey instantly took his place as his subordinate; but the prince gave him to understand that it was his wish that the conduct of the siege should continue in the same hands. Germanos, too, welcomed him cordially, with a due recognition of his position, for he hoped to win him over to the side of the church. For the time it seemed that some solution of their difficulties was imminent, and in the hands of a stronger man, no doubt, such universally recognized authority would have found a means of reconciliation.

But Prince Demetrius was terribly unfitted for the responsibility. His principles were honorable, but by nature he was weak and undecided. He inclined first to one party, then to another, with no diplomatic yielding, which will give an inch to gain a yard, but with the pitiful futility of one who has no knowledge of men, no habit of command, and no certainty of himself. To the soldiers this weakness manifested itself openly, and unhappily not erroneously, in his personal appearance. He was under middle height; his manner, always stiff and awkward, was sometimes insolent, sometimes timid – an unfortunate demeanor, for he was neither the one nor the other, but only excessively self-conscious and shy. His face was thin and pinched, and his hair, although he was only thirty-two, was already gray and scanty, giving him a look of premature old age. Being short-sighted, he blinked and peered, as Mitsos said, like a noonday owl, and his voice was querulous and high-pitched. Yet he was of an upright mind, indifferent to danger, and free from the besetting sin of his race, avarice. All these outward defects corresponded but too well with the inadequacy of his nature; a strong man with not so honorable a heart as he had might easily have filled his post better, and the uprightness of his character, at a crisis where uprightness was the quality wanted, could not make itself felt, but which to the army and the council was but the bubbling that came from a man half drowned, when what was wanted was a firm voice and a loud and no drowning cry. Moreover, he was morbidly sensitive about his own dignity and position, and there was something comically tragical to see that puny frame with bent shoulders presiding over a company of strong men, and hear that little screechy voice prating of "My wish" and "My command." On one side of him sat Germanos, courtier-like and full of deference, plying him with his titles, as the nurse gives suck to a baby, while the prince, drinking like a child, would be well pleased, and pipe, "What you say is very true. It is my wish that the church should be fully recognized. Yes, quite so, my dear archbishop; but I think our friend, the gallant commander of this army, of which I, as the commander-in-chief, as the viceroy by the wish of the Hetairia – yes, exactly – has something to say on the subject."

Then Petrobey would lay before the prince the urgent need of doing one thing before all others. Tripoli must be taken; surely the claims of the two parties could be settled afterwards. That was the work most important to them. For three weeks now since the beginning of June had they waited at Trikorpha, and the provisions of the array were already beginning to be exhausted. The herds were being thinned, the lower pasture was drying up in the summer heat. Must not steps be taken here at once? And Prince Demetrius would answer something in this manner:

"What you say is very true, my dear Petrobey, and I quite agree with you that there is no time to be lost. Would you not form a committee and deliberate what is to be done, and then submit your results to me to receive my sanction? You spoke, I remember, about the formation of some cavalry corps; a very wise plan I thought it, and I meant to have some talk with you about it. But really the days have slipped by so. Yes, we must, indeed, be up and doing, and my orderly has just informed me, gentlemen, that dinner is ready; and I shall be pleased to see you, my dear archbishop, and you, commander, at my table. Dinner will be served immediately, and our deliberations, gentlemen, in which I think we may say we have made some solid progress, will be adjourned till to-morrow at the usual hour."

Nicholas saw that there was no help here, and he set himself to thwart Germanos with all his power. He considered that the presence of the primates in the camp rendered the army powerless, for it was eaten up with intrigue, slander, and incessant accusation, provoking counter-accusation. At the meetings of the senate he opposed Germanos on every point, whether or no his suggestions were honorable or expedient, and allying himself with any one who would join him in upholding the army against the church, ranged himself side by side with crooked and unscrupulous men like Poniropoulos and Anagnostes, mere brigands and adventurers, who, without any motive but their own greed, had got together a band of peasants, and were in command of a mere disorderly rabble; men who in his soberer moments he knew were as detestable as, in his furious anger against Germanos, he thought the primate to be. Every day the meetings of the senate grew more and more disorderly, and gradually Prince Demetrius saw that he was no more than a cypher in the eyes of these men. Of personal ambition Nicholas had none; honestly and with his whole heart he cared for nothing but the success of the revolution and the extermination of the Turk, and he used his great power and influence for the defeat of the intriguing primates, being convinced that till the question between the two parties was settled nothing could be done. At any rate, he was free from all stings of conscience; his conduct might be unwise, but he acted from impeccable motives, and there was enough truth in his allegations against Germanos to give them a sting that was wellnigh unforgivable.

It was already more than half-way through June, and still the army remained inactive. Petrobey had so far succeeded in rousing the prince as to permit him to make arrangements for regular supplies being sent to the camp; but there was still no talk of an assault on Tripoli, or indeed any preparations for ensuring its success. The senate had met as usual that morning, and the meeting had degenerated into a fierce brawl between Anagnostes and Nicholas on the one side, and Germanos and Charalambes on the other. It was in vain that the prince tried to restore order; they listened to him no more than to a buzzing fly, when at length Germanos, bitten to the quick by some intolerable taunt of Nicholas's, rose from the table, saying he would take no further part in the deliberations of the senate.

"There must be an end," he said, "to this. How long ago is it, Nicholas, since you swore allegiance to me?"

"Allegiance in all things in your jurisdiction," replied Nicholas, "and to the glory of God, not to the glory of Germanos."

The heat of his anger did not excuse the words, and the moment afterwards every better feeling within him would have had them unsaid, but Anagnostes, sitting at his elbow, applauded vehemently.

"Silence, you there," said Germanos, in a white anger. "You will hear my voice no more here; but let me tell you, you are not rid of me. We will see what the people say to such treatment as that I have been subjected to."

"Go to the people," shouted Nicholas; "see how the Mainats receive you!"