Chapter X

Chapter X

It was late autumn and the roads were ruined. Konstantin stared powerlessly from behind his window at the greyness over Vienna and at the freezing rain sprinkling outside. Overwhelmed by the power of temptation and loneliness, he remembered that at this very moment two years ago, he had left Istanbul for Bucharest with Jovan Karadzha the new ruler of Walachia. The weather was like today, raining and freezing. The cold seemed to seep into his skin through his clothes. He was on his way to invest in Karadzha, from whom Istanbul demanded eight thousand bags of gold for the Walachian throne. Konstantin lent it to him. Karadzha bought the throne and became prince of Walachia and its ruler. Karadzha paid Konstantin back by allowing him to trade in his kingdom and hired his brother Stefan to manage his treasury. Stefan became the lead treasurer of the treasury and Konstantin got his loan repaid. All this was done under the terms of the loan. With permission from the government the brothers then made everything possible. Stefan acquired some property from the village Alunisu and built a church for the inhabitants.

Ever since the summer of 1812, Europe has not been the same. At the end of May the Russian Tsar and the Turkish Sultan ended a six-year war in Bucharest. Tsar Alexander ended the war so that he could start another war against Napoleon which was to begin on “Vrtolum” Day (“St. Apostles Bartholomew and Barnabas Day” which in the Orthodox religion is always fixed on June 24). Free from the war with Russia, Sultan Mahmud declared war on Kara Giorgi and the outlawed pashas. Under the pretence of caring for the Serbs and for Kara Giorgi, Russia now left them at the mercy of Istanbul, but gained Bessarabia, part of Moldova and the Caucasus. Russia always did this in Rumelia. It raised its voice for the rights of Orthodoxy and for its Slavonic brothers, setting them on fire and then offering them limited help. Then, when Russia got what it wanted, it abandoned them. Liberated from the war with Russia, the

Sultan now attacked the renegade pashas, including Idriz in Vidin. When Stefan and Konstantin found out about this, they did everything in their power to rescue their brother, including offering bribes, and they succeeded. But, instead of letting him go, the Ottoman government arranged for him to move to Istanbul, and he did. In the four summers he worked with his brothers he made reasonable profits from moving goods by caravan. The brothers were able to move a lot of goods everywhere. From Macedonia they moved Vardar tobacco to Austria, Seres cotton to the fabric makers of Saxony, and Shtip cauldrons to Hungary. They brought back glass and porcelain from Austria, mirrors and books from Italy, and sugar and coffee from the Netherlands. But the wars were always in the way and devoured a lot. More than three hundred thousand horses were killed in Russia alone. Besides the horses more than a million soldiers lost their lives in that war alone with more in other wars. Without livestock to work them, the fields were deserted. The war also brought plagues, famine and diseases including the black plague in Istanbul. At the end of 1813, Konstantin and Idriz became ill. Idriz and his family contracted the plague and they all died. When Konstantin received the bad news he was with his nephews Kocho and Dimitri. They all mourned their deaths together. Idriz was supposedly forgiven by Istanbul for being a renegade in Vidin, but the same Istanbul government was now suing him. Kocho and Dimitri had been staying in Vienna since the spring, when Kocho became ambassador in Walachia. Good thing that they remained there because the plague crossed the Danube River in late 1814. Seventy thousand people died in Walachia from February to May. That’s half of Bucharest.

And now Konstantin is standing behind the window looking at the passing grey clouds with thoughts of his past, especially the death of his brother and his family. After they found Idriz the family tried to relive all the time that misfortune had taken away from them. True, his brother had a different name and faith, but blood and origin don’t change. Idriz, formerly known as Giorgi was like his brother Konstantin and shared his intelligence, insight and expertise in books and money. From the days when he was an officer he was well disciplined and capable of doing many things. He paid attention to details and was persistent in running things. Without a doubt,

Idriz was the third leg of the Belio trivet, which supported even heavier cauldrons.

“Uncle, are you here?” yelled Kocho as he entered the room.

“Yes, I’m here... I was distracted… come on in!” said Konstantin as he left the window and slowly turned to meet Kocho.

“I came early. I wanted to tell you that Prince Metternich blocked congress. (Clemens Wenzel von Metternich (1773-1859), Austrian statesman and most important diplomat of the time) (The Vienna Congress (0l.X.1814 - 09.VI 1815), for redrawing Europe’s borders after the Napoleonic conquests) They postponed the redrawing again,” said Kocho while they shook hands and then, a moment later, he continued with emphasis, “He blocked congress because the Russian tsar, supported by the Prussians, wants Poland!”

“Even during the most difficult times the Prussians were with the Russians. Many, like that Clausewitz, fought with Kutuzov near Borodino. Why shouldn’t they now support each other?!” replied Konstantin.

“Well, that’s how it is, Uncle, but there is reckoning there. The Russians in return, promised to support them in taking Saxony…! But in the end, I think General Radetski will mediate between the Tsar and Metternich,” said Kocho returning the conversation to the beginning, with a kind of courage and diplomatic sense that would impress… “Since March when they arrived in Paris with the tsar, until they arrived here, they were often together, especially during feasts and drinking bouts. The Russian Tsar follows him in that. That’s why he is close to him, and that’s why Radetski wants his company.”

“It’s more than just that. The tsar appreciates warriors like Radetski who is also of Slavonic origin from Bohemia. His wife too, Countess Francesca is Slovenian from Neumarkt (today’s Trzhich in the Republic of Slovenia),” replied Konstantin, as if seeking other circumstances.

“They influence each other! A handful of kings, dukes, and counts, flirting...” said Kocho, looked outside and added. “The rain has stopped, we should get going, we can continue out conversation in the cafeteria. What do you say, should we get going?”

“Yes, I could really use a coffee!” replied Konstantin, seeming like his nephew had found the thought he was looking for.

One time before leaving Istanbul, Konstantin had bought a hand-held manual coffee grinder. When he worked on his books at home he usually took out about sixty roasted coffee beans, ground them and made his own coffee. But his nephew’s invitation to go out sounded tempting and, despite the cold weather and dim daylight, he went out. But neither that nor the cold bothered a young street vendor, who they met on the way, all hunched up carrying a pile of wood over her head and shoulders. She held the wood with a long strap of canvas tied from her forehead and shoulders over the bundle and down around her belly. The girl nodded at them as they passed by. Kocho, who passed in front of her, saw pain in her eyes. He figured she was suffering because she had to sell wood in this kind of weather. Kocho also noticed something in her hidden face which seemed familiar to him. Pulling back the curtain of memories in his mind, he stopped for a moment! Yes, he recognized the girl. She was Katerina his former girlfriend, the same Katerina whom he knew twelve years ago from school in Bucharest. He assumed she had died in the tragic earthquake of 1804, during the Great Mother of God holiday. That morning, the ground shook and houses collapsed. A fire started from “Selary” Street at eight o’clock and enveloped the entire city. It raged until midnight when it started to rain hard. There were aftershocks; the ground shook until September 8. The school was completely destroyed. Rescuers looked for victims for days. Also among the victims was Katerina. She was sleeping in the dormitory with her sister when the earthquake hit. They both fell into a gap that opened up in the middle of their room. They were both asleep at the time. Kocho grieved for her a long time. Their relationship was disrupted the moment the earthquake hit. He remembered her well. Katerina wasn’t the kind of woman who would hide her feelings. Kocho never met another woman like her. She was his soul mate. She had a kind face, was spontaneous and sometimes naive. She didn’t have the artificiality of other

women. After he lost her, and over time, his youthful love and passion for her diminished. He spent the next summers studying. Seven summers later, Kocho married Elena Mavrokordati from a noble family which, at the time, had financial problems. This was a good opportunity for Kocho; her father and her uncles at the time were widening their caravan markets.

He saw Katerina again but only by accident. Seeing her took him a long way back… He was glad they had left on foot. But not for long, now they had to watch out from being splashed by passing coaches and horses stepping in puddles left behind by the falling rain. They were happy to have arrived at the cafeteria around the corner. But this wasn’t any ordinary coffee shop; it was a place where the elite from the city hung out. But, even though Konstantin was influential here, he didn’t want to spend much time with people he considered untrustworthy. He was here more for Karadzha than for himself. Karadzha was Walachia’s ruler and wanted to make connections with these people. Konstantin owed him for hiring his brother Stefan. He owed him even more when he made Kocho ambassador. Konstantin had a weakness when it came to his nephews. When Karadzha found this out he did him even more favours, including helping his nephews change their last names back to Belio. Unfortunately those in Vienna weren’t too happy. Dimitri, the younger nephew, on the other hand, had worries of his own. His wife Despina gave birth prematurely because the child was ill. They took him to hospitals, witch doctors and monasteries. They used potions, icons, talismans and garlic wood, but it was all in vain. As a diversion and to avoid worrying, Dimitri spent most of his time working. He hadn’t been back from the road that’s why Kocho and his uncle had to go to the cafeteria alone- one of hundreds of coffee shops in Vienna. They say that the first cafeteria in Europe was opened a century and a half ago in Vienna. Since then things had changed a lot. Besides coffee the cafeterias now also served hot chocolate, lemonade, almond milk, liqueur, tea, pudding, ice cream... When they went inside, Kocho and his uncle were greeted by chatter and cigarette smoke. Some patrons stared at their newspapers, others stood around the billiards tables clapping and shouting each time a ball was knocked into a pocket, others were playing cards and muttering, and the rest were sitting at their tables talking.

“Mr. Belio! Welcome,” said Count Alexander Nako loudly from a nearby table. Alexander had a pleasant expression on his smooth cheekboned face, from which a thin moustache protruded. Count Nako greeted them warmly and so did Mr. Kiro Nikolich, a prominent banker and manufacturer who was sitting at the same table. Mr. Nikolich was born in Poljan, the same city in Macedonia where Count Nako’s father Christopher (Krsto) was from. Count Nako was born two summers before Kocho and, although he looked older, his face radiated vitality. Six summers ago Count Nako married Countess Teresa, daughter of Count Ignatie Festetich, a Croat from Turopol, and Countess Francesca Bitiani. They were prominent Hungarian nobles. The Nakovs were very wealthy but their power came from the properties they owned in Hungary.

“Thank you for the honour, kind Lord,” replied Konstantin with a slight bow. Then, after their greetings were done, the four sat down at the same table.

“Gentlemen, we just ordered, would you like to order something for yourselves so that we can start our conversation?” said Count Nako, and as soon as they did, he asked Kocho a question:

“Ambassador, how is the congress going?”

“Unfortunately with a lot of quarreling and interruptions, kind Lord.

“Of course, they are dividing the spoils! Who is causing the biggest dispute?”

“Tsar Alexander and Prince Metternich,” replied Kocho and, to leave a mark on his diplomatic and political achievements, he continued with emphasis, “Yes, kind Lord, it’s all about spoils -Poland and Saxony, but there is also something else! Prince Metternich is worried about Russia’s deep entry into Europe. That’s why he sent General Radetski to Paris; to be the Russian tsar’s shadow. If the tsar puts a puppet on the throne there, everything will go to hell! Russia will be in the east and in the west; Russia will be in Europe, Asia, and even America... After Alaska, he will settle

California. That would disturb the balance which worries the prince.”

“The tsar has a large delegation, are they all in agreement?” asked the Count with interest.

“Yes. Included in his delegation are Prince Tsartoriski and Prince Razumovski as well as Counts Capodistria, Stackelberg and Nesselderode and Generals Chernyshev and Volkonski. Everyone is in agreement with the tsar!”

“Prince Razumovski was ambassador here for five summers. He built the “Razumovski Palace”, he then built a bridge over the Danube River and a gallery; he ordered works by Haydn and Beethoven. He is an Austrian son-in-law and, like a local, can be influenced, right?” asked the Count looking for weaknesses in the Russian “wall”.

“Forgive me Count, After the New Year’s fire, during which the palace burned, Razumovski was not the same anymore!” intervened Konstantin following his interest. “When the stove exploded the fire burned down valuable paintings and sculptures. They didn’t find Razumovski until dawn and when they did he was all sooty and had lost his voice.”

“Dear Belio, Razumovski recovered. His tsar promised him help because the palace was also the Russian embassy…! Prince Metternich will exert influence wherever he can”, said Kiro the banker calmly, after which everyone went silent.

The mention of Prince Andrej Kirilovich Razumovski’s accident got them all thinking, especially Count Nako. He had the same passion for art as the prince. His puffy black eyes, now frozen in thought, were swelling even more. Count Nako was a painter himself and often painted during his free time because, he said, it eased his soul. He also bought other people’s works that caught his eye and captivated his mind. He bought art because he believed in its value and not because it was fashionable or because he had achieved a high place in society. Unlike many people who bought art or painted without knowing or understanding what art was, Prince Razumovski

was an artistic soul with his entire being. He loved art, not only the kind that caught his eye but also the kind that brought him joy like paintings, sculptures, antiquities as well as musical instruments. He was fascinated by various melodies and everyone knew how gifted a violinist he was. His friends used to ask him to play for them and, as a virtuoso, he brought them joy and they admired him for it. Razumovski and the Count were close because of the pain they felt when they lost the artistic collection created by very talented people. Razumovski was also well aware of the collection’s monetary value but people who love art never put their money ahead of their admiration for it. In such a situation money loses its meaning; a man will give up his last bit of money for what fulfills him and for what brings pleasure to his senses and soul. But, let us not underestimate the power of money either because if it weren’t for money the collection would not have been possible. At the same time there are things that are more powerful than money; the power of love… the power of a fire or of nature. A momentary fire caused irreparable damage which affected the future… Count Nako was now confused. He was born a rich heir, and since his childhood he was surrounded by the power of money. Everything that he and his father acquired from the buildings and properties was no secret to anyone. In fact their wealth was open and even crucial for the people and for the environment. Now people were talking about Razumovski’s deeds just like they were talking about the deeds of powerful people who they considered their friends. But, no matter how much the power of money provided people with objects and other things in form and importance, it had its own life and permanence. Some things survived after its founders and owners had died, and some things lasted only several days; being taken away by war, fire or some other whirlwind event. Nako was thinking about that now and feeling sorry for Razumovski. His memories of him were full of sorrow. Nako hoped for better health for the unfortunate Razumovski. Even though Nikolich said that the Prince had recovered from that tragic event, Nako knew very well that there was no recovery from that kind of blow. Taking away a man’s love that had turned into his passion was like taking away part of his soul; the man wouldn’t be the same again. The silence persisted. Realizing the destructive power of the fire and to end the silence, Kocho decided to talk. He said:

“Lord Stewart of the British delegation reported a recent accident taking place at a large beer oven in London. Employees and passers-by were killed, many were burned and the beer that flowed through the streets caused more damage.”

“Vienna now has a construction plan, it’s not like London with stoves and boilers in the most crowded neighborhoods, and still it’s not at ease. The “Debreziner” soda factory owned by Jovan Manuel from Melnik burned down and he went bankrupt,” said Nikolich the banker.

“Yes, he was removed from the owner’s books but before he became a Catholic, when his last name was Manush, and not Manuel, he joined the guild, so we help him. You Brother Kiro even gave him a house at Jagerzeile,” said Konstantin.

“He had good business sense and he was known everywhere. When he married Clara, all the people high up in the organization were there. Nikola Smolenich, with his yarn spinners in Pesht, Trnava, Novi Jichi, Vienna, and his managers from the soda plant “Gumperdorfer” were all there. Nikola Smolenich was his witness... Unfortunately his furnace destroyed Jovan…! But, my bank will help him and he will be back in business soon,” said Kiro Nikolich.

“Help him! The economy is working and the emperor got his lands back!” said Count Nako unexpectedly considering how he felt about Razumovski’s accident, and continued in a warmer tone of voice. “Uncle Giorgi Karajanov died on June 3rd last year... Did you know that he and my father brought cotton seeds from the old country and planted them here; my father in Hungary and my uncle in Saxony? My uncle started a yarn spinning business in Chemnitz and Emperor Friedrich made him a baron; so from Karajanov he became von Karajan (Giorgi von Karajan - great-grandfather to the conductor Herbert von Karajan (1908-1989).) Uncle Giorgi worked for seventy years and helped many people, like you’re doing now Mr. Nikolich. He and my father donated two thousand forints to go towards building an Orthodox school here. My uncle also set aside five percent of the mortgages to go to the administrators of the school and the church “Holy Trinity” and five hundred forints to go to the churches “St. Trinity” and “St. George”... He helped hospitals and

charities in Vienna. He left two thousand forints for the poor in his native Kozhani in Macedonia!” Count Nako then sighed and looked at everyone as if looking for more attention, and continued. “The old country was always in the back of my father’s mind until he died in 1800. He wanted to build a school in his native Poljan so he found two trustworthy locals and gave them a special fund to be distributed to the top twelve students from Poljan. He also awarded scholarships to the Agricultural School that he had set up twenty years ago in Senmiklosh. He helped the church in Poljan, distributed food to the poor and gave a dowry of 100 forints to the twenty-four poorest girls from Poljan... And I can tell you there is no one else like my father and my uncle. They were persistent, hardworking and generous.”

“My dear Count, Uncle Krsto and Uncle Giorgi mourned for their homeland. It was their birthplace. It was where they took their first breath of air and rocked in a cradle... But I am more impressed with the generosity of the countries that made them wealthy,” said Nikolich.

“Yes, even in these countries they thought about their compatriots who were here. My father left a fund for twenty-four poor Hungarian people from our properties, but also a fund for the ‘Illyrian’ school and for the bishopric in Karlovtsi. He donated five hundred forints to the hospital in Pesht. And for the day of his own funeral he ordered one hundred services from Macedonians in addition to the twenty-four from Hungarians.

He also donated fifty forints to be given to poor Hungarians, and one hundred forints to be given to the Protestant, Catholic and Orthodox Churches closest to Senmiklosh... In addition to what he donated for the Orthodox school, he also donated another thousand forints to the ‘Alms Institute’ and ‘Moral School’. My father treated people equally and his compatriots were always in his heart!” explained Count Nako.

“My dear Count, did you contribute to the high school here?” asked Konstantin.

“Yes, my dear Belio... During the times that God cared for us and saved us, we experienced everything; wars, betrayals, false news,

mass exodus, diseases and the plague. Napoleon’s cannons hit Vienna in May five years ago. There was much death and destruction and the money was worthless,” said Nako with difficulty and paused for a moment. “This is how Konstantin’s brother died two summers ago when he was looking to support education and the purchase of books. He donated sixteen thousand forints for all the schools, from the St. Anne’s German school to the Orthodox schools... At that time I too decided to make a donation. When His Majesty Franz requested from high society to help with the recovery from the war, I too made an offer to assist by paying for higher education. He liked my proposal and pointed me in that direction. I arranged for scholarships, housing and food for sixty-two students... I’m still supporting that project.”

The other three sitting around the table praised the Count’s gesture. By now it was already noon, which they had failed to notice given their intense discussion. It was easy to lose track of time when you discussed subjects of interest. The chairs at the adjacent tables kept moving. Patrons were coming and going but also standing up to stretch their legs. They took out their wallets, paid for the service and left. With time those departures became more frequent. Now it was time for these four to part company.