Chapter VIII

Chapter VIII

“Trieste, June 14, 1804

Dear brother,

I spent three days in the warehouses and paid fair prices for the goods, so, relieved of worries, I am writing to you before my departure tomorrow. I hadn’t been in the sea for a long time so I felt good. It reminded me of Istanbul except that Trieste is smaller, quieter and out of the way. Its harbour is an endless forest of masts, sails, ropes and ship’s beaks. This place satisfies Vienna’s needs. The days of purchasing coffee, sugar and fruit are growing, which will yield good profit. The cost of a lemon in the market four summers ago was three cruisers and now it is thirty-three. Vienna, however, fears that it might lose Trieste because Napoleon has his sights on it. He took Paris on the third Sunday of March. He then took the Pope’s crown and placed it on his own head; this is who the world is dealing with now. It appears that Suvorov won’t help like he did five summers ago when he defeated the three strongest generals and with three battles he drove the French out of Italy just like Hannibal did when he crossed the Alps and defeated them in Switzerland. Now there is only one Lord!

There are all kinds of guilds and crafts here - traders, bankers, officials, ship-owners, fishermen, winemakers… Even Masonic tribes made their way here three summers ago. Trieste has close to thirty thousand people living in it. Among them are a great number of Slavonic speakers; Slovenes and Croats, and others who came from Rumeli such as Serbs, Bulgarians and Macedonians.

There are also Greeks, Vlachs, Arnauts and others who bring news of Kara Giorgia’s rebellion in Serbia. (Karagiorge Petrovich’s uprising of 1804.) He fought many battles, caused much destruction and has gained some freedom. Many people are now fleeing from

there and coming here and from here they go to America. The ships are filled with people heading for America; local people wiped out by inflation, interest and multiple lotteries.

Crossing the Alps was an adventure, and so was the path I took from Klagenfurt - Vilach - Wolch and Goritz to Trieste. I was accustomed to traveling on flat roads in Walachia and Hungary but here I traveled over huge ridges, gorges and waters. In some places the sun was obstructed by the abundance of cherry trees, and in others the sky was wide open. After descending to the valley I rested at an inn in the village Volch, next to the turquoise River Isonzo (today’s River Socha in the Republic of Slovenia). On the other side of the river is Tulmino, with its houses resting on the flat side of a hill above which is a fortress. The river air combined with that of the surrounding forests and meadows, the houses with wooden fences and the playful children - were all in harmony. The culmination of all that, together with the cheerful sound of a violin and clarinet, coming from behind a church, was a recipe for happiness; for old and young alike to dance in ecstasy. I have never seen that kind of relaxation before. This kind of relaxation in our enslaved country would be unthinkable. I won’t be going there tomorrow. I will go through Alben-Leibach-Tseli-Grats and Vienna with my cargo.

That’s all from here. I hope you are all doing well. After I stayed with you, I was convinced that our mother and father would get used to living there... Tell me about Kocho. He is seventeen years old now. What does he think? Is Dimitri studying? Three summers from now we will have to think about him like we were thinking about his brother.

Alexander is still young, only eight summers old, but it’s important that he take the right path. Write to me about my nieces. Maria is now eleven. Is she obedient? How are Ekaterina and Elena? Our father doesn’t like being idle, maybe you should prepare a little woodshop for him. He can make all sorts of things from all kinds of wood. He feels like he is in his own world when he works with wood and will work for hours without getting tired. As for our mother Despina, I find it difficult to accept that our dearest and most gracious person is not here with me. She looked after me well when I was a child. She calmed me down just by being near me. She

would stay with me until I closed my eyes and fell asleep happily. She also came to see me in the morning and I would wake up looking at her face looking over me. Now that our mother and father are with you, it’s easier for me to see them, I will come and visit first opportunity I get. Here things are getting worse as we’re headed for war. Maybe I will come back and we will all be together again. Until then, stay healthy and well.

Greetings to all of you, your Konstantin.”

Everyone had moist eyes and sighed while the letter was read. Despina cried all the time. A mother’s tears could not be held back. Kostantin was good at putting events, characters and feelings in order. It was strange how all these things could fit on that little piece of paper! Their son had the gift of putting his thoughts into vivid pictures, making them feel like they were there with him in all those places. And about the people he wrote, it seemed like he’d known them from time immemorial. After the letter was read Dimitri, his father, said:

“He should come back! Why does he need a war to start to come back?”

“Father, he needs to work! It’s his job!” replied Stefan justifying his brother’s actions.

“Does he care about anything other than his work...? What about starting a family?”

Everyone was silent. They all knew that Dimitri was angry because his son didn’t have time for a family. Konstantin had spent thirty-two summers and still hadn’t found what he was looking for. Not because he had no opportunities, but from something else. He had a problem. When he was fifteen or sixteen years old Kostantin had contracted the mumps (a viral infection of the parotid salivary glands). He survived the infection with medical help and with assistance from his uncle the bishop. From reading books and from what he’d heard and from how he was treated after intimate friendships with girls, he realized that his illness had ruined him. He wouldn’t be able to have children! And because of that the subject

of marriage wasn’t on his mind. His restraint however required patience and strength.

Later on in a different room Despina said to Dimitri, “Kostantin has a fortune of money but none for a gierdeka?” (Turkish Gerdek – a marriage bed.) “Elena, with so many children is embroidering and knitting a new Giergief.” (Turkish gergef – a stretched canvas in an embroidery frame.)

“He needs a wife not only for children but also to have a home with his own family. No one knows where his bed is or where he sent the letter from.”

“Stefan said that five or six summers ago, when he was finishing in Hungary, he fell in love with someone.”

“If they loved one another and if he finished why didn’t they get married?”

“How am I supposed to know? He never mentioned this to us!”

Even his closest family members were unaware of Kostantin’s love affair… Did it take place or not? It did! It thundered, shed tears and broke hearts. It was like a strong summer thunderstorm with torrents of rain and floods tearing the ground apart and uprooting trees. It started the day after St. George’s Day five summers ago when Kostantin arrived in Veliki Bechkerek (modern-day Zrenjanin in Vojvodina, Republic of Serbia), the capital of Torontal County. Thirty summers earlier Empress Maria Theresa granted trade privileges to this city and it became a market for merchants from everywhere. When Emperor Joseph II ruled, he made new plans for this city which attracted new businesses and more people. There were all kinds of people living there including Serbs, Macedonians, Germans, Hungarians, Vlachs and Shops (a south Slavic subgroup of people that spread between Serbia, Macedonia and Bulgaria which spoke a special dialect. During the middle of the 19th century the Shops began to be assimilated with the populations in Serbia, Macedonia and Bulgaria). There Kostantin met Zlata, daughter of merchant Kiril Dimitriev. Kiril invited Konstantin to his home after he bought some goods from him. Kiril’s property was located

between the “Assumption of the Most Holy Mother of God” Church, whose bell tower rose in the north, and the Bega (Berei) River (Vega in Hungarian) whose waters flowed southwards. They sat at a table in the yard were they were accompanied by Kiril’s wife and Nestor, Kiril’s sixteen-year-old son. Kiril was brought here from Prilep, Macedonia by his father when Kiril was a child, so he was happy to have a conversation with a compatriot. There were other compatriots here like the Stojanovs, Trajkovs, Popovs and others but he wanted to meet with a compatriot who was successful; to learn something new from him.

At the end of their conversation Zlata suddenly appeared at the yard gate. As she approached, a wave of pleasant stimuli poured over Kostantin. Her black hair, parted in the middle, hung to the left and right, hiding half her ears on whose soft fringes shone her earrings, bouncing playfully as she took each step. Her white tunic shyly followed the shape of her chest, abdomen and torso. Her short sleeved dress emphasized her gentle arms and hands. The lace above her chest, hemmed around her collar, expressed the soft skin of her throat and neck. There was a perfectly curved line showing her body below her waist which became more pronounced as she walked.

“I’m Zlata Dimitrieva, daughter of the host,” she politely introduced herself with a smile on her face and extended her right hand. Konstantin stood up and said:

“Konstantin Belio, merchant and banker,” he then reached out, shook her hand and said, “I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Dimitrieva!”

“I’m pleased to meet you too, Mr. Belio.”

“Daughter, where have you been? Kostantin here is a bachelor and doesn’t run around as much as you do. It’s not lady like for you to run around like that, is it?”

“Father, you are embarrassing me! ...I didn’t run around, I was with Milena!”

“You’re embarrassing me. Your brother had to do all the serving here.”

Zlata didn’t say anything. She smiled lovingly like a daughter who knew how to smile when she wanted to be indulged. She then, as if accidentally, gave Konstantin a shy trembling look with curious restraint. Konstantin not only caught her isharet (Turkish Işarеt -sign, gesture, signal) but retaliated with a penetrating look through her shining pupils and deep into her eyes. Zlata’s guard collapsed and her cheeks flushed red with betrayal. She was in her twentieth summer and behind her stood many youthful letters and declared loves, to a point of being pampered. Older guys like this one aroused passion in her, and this one was well-groomed, confident and with an attitude that left no room for the games she played with the others. His eyes were clean and his look irritating. Zlata felt a strange fear, overwhelmed by something more powerful. She lost her train of thought and stood there stiff without knowing what to do or say. She may have been proud and carefree to walk around the city but here, in her yard, she was powerless. Even though she stood there for a short time, for her it was an eternity; a swarm of words swirled in her brain but her mouth was voiceless.

“Don’t stand there, daughter, clear the table!” said her father.

“Yes, father..., right away!” replied Zlata seeming like she was lost for words, as if she was guilty of something, and as if not knowing how to gathered the empty kettle, the empty cups of coffee, the dishes and the towels. She then walked down the cobblestone path along the green and flowery courtyard and went inside the house. Even though Zlata’s unexpected meeting with Konstantin ended, the consequences of it kept growing. She couldn’t sleep that night, especially after what she found out about him from her father. Konstantin couldn’t sleep either thinking of her. Zlata’s father became so enamoured with Konstantine that during dinner he spoke to Nestor, his son, at length about Konstantin’s success as a banker and merchant, expecting him to follow his path. Zlata’s mother, whose care for her unmarried daughter was already tight, saw an opportunity. For the first time she could see a change in her daughter’s eyes, voice and attitude. She seemed to care for the young banker. There were very few women who were unmarried at

twenty years of age, but Zlata was too egoistical to get married. It was good that Kostantin was going to be in the city for two or three more days. The city wasn’t big, so wherever you turned you met someone you knew. And, as it happened, they met the next day. Looking for some small items in the bazaar, Zlata saw Konstantin approaching from the other end of the street. With each step their excitement grew.

When they met they stopped walking. They were both elegantly dressed which captured the hidden admiration and jealousy of those who sat there or passed by them. Would “their” Zlata fall for this one was the question on her mother’s mind… No, it must be a family trait that she didn’t allow anyone to get close to her for long! But the two stood there looking at each other with excitement, waiting… Wondering who was going to speak first, suffocating by the quiet tide of excitement gripping them from within. Similar in nature and mind they kept reading one another. With neither willing to start speaking, they had to communicate with their thoughts. More and more eyes kept looking at them. Konstantin spoke first.

“Miss Dimitrieva, are you going to this store?”

“No, Mr. Belio, I’m going to another store.”

“Will you give me the honour of speaking with you at that table?”

“Chatting at a table with someone educated and well-known would be interesting but not appropriate. You may be accustomed to sitting at a table with a girl in the big cities but its different here.”

“True, but the girls in the big cities are not as special as you. I don’t sit with just anyone!”

“Oh, thank you... for thinking of me as someone special! But Mr. Belio, you dragged me into a conversation and here we are, in plain sight… Let’s sit down like you suggested.”

They sat down and waited for the waiter to order something. Zlata continued:

“About those girls... Look, everyone here knows everyone. They also know that you’re sitting with someone. See the couple sitting at the last table? They plan to be engaged this Sunday. See the other two couples; they plan to be engaged soon. Do you realize what I look like to them, sitting here with you?”

“We’ve met and you know me well enough to call me by my name, and I to call you by your golden name. And about the other, I will try to understand my dearest Zlata... don’t worry!”

“Okay then, out here I will address you by your name…! So, my dear Konstantin, do you know how many idiots there are here? They are already looking at me like I’m some kind of trouble maker!”

“Ah, you have a soft heart…! I’m all yours my dear Zlata, right?”

“Are you even listening to me...? They will be gossiping about me!”

“I am listening to you and here is what I say: ‘It doesn’t matter what they say, but what you say, what makes you happy and comfortable. If you give up on that and do exactly what others expect you to do, will they be grateful to you? No! They will still gossip about you even without me here!’…”

“Yes, they will gossip about me... but that’s different!”

“And I Zlata, love you endlessly, and if you feel about me the way I feel about you, you won’t worry so much about them… you’ll give me your full attention.”

“You’re embarrassing me…! And who knows what your intentions are towards me?”

“I am inexperienced in these matters but what I tell you, I’m telling you freely. You’re like me, you do and say as you like and, as such, you can easily overcome the fear of the gossipers. You’re special and your beautiful face left me sleepless last night!”

“Okay then. You have assured me that you have no bad intentions towards me…! You’re a banker and a merchant, you read thoughts

well and I can’t seem to hide mine... I too didn’t sleep last night because of the restlessness in my heart.”

“In that case I will hire a coach and take you to the biggest city where your mind can be at ease!”

This is what Kostantin and Zlata said to each other when that day started. Then they got up and left like floating shadows on the street and got lost in the park. They spent the following days enjoying their love affair. Kostantin eased his way into Zlata’s world of body and being; so feminine and without a sign of weakness, softness or heaviness. But that love affair was about to come to a sudden end. It was terrible for Kostantin because, in fact, he wasn’t aware of “the bad” when it began. Now in their growing passion, he was about to stumble into it. It was over for them even before Zlata had a chance to be happy. The spark was lit, followed by a quarrel - and the end. This took place the next day as they sat on a large tree trunk at the entrance of the park near a man, a woman and two girls. The younger of the two girls walked away from her parents and came towards the place where Kostantin and Zlata were sitting. Smiling shyly and swaying left and right, she kept looking at them.

“What is your name?” asked Zlata.

“Giurgia!”

“Were you named after your grandmother?”

“Yes, after my grandmother, her name was Giurgia.”

The little girl kept looking at them gently with her wide, dark, clear and innocent eyes partly covered by the locks of her hair which Zlata couldn’t resist to stroke. She trembled and indulged the little girl, speaking sweet words to her in a gentle high tone of voice as if talking to a childhood friend. Yes, Zlata may be an arrogant person but she had strong feelings for children. This brought an almost forgotten memory into Konstantin’s mind. He thought less of the little girl and more of himself and his own childhood. Konstantin was haunted by his own childhood which left him impotent, without the possibility of ever having offspring. The thought of this choked

him. Zlata sent the little girl back to her parents who were cheerful watching her. Overwhelmed with her own feelings, Zlata turned to Konstantin and said:

“I want to have many children, my dearest.”

“Well, yes... that will be nice, yes.”

“What is it? You don’t want children?”

“I do my dear, how could I not? But children are children, one or many, yours or adopted. It’s the same when they are in your home.”

“What are you talking about? Yours or adopted...? What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing, what should be the matter my dearest?”

“You’re hiding something! Ever since the girl came over something changed in you! Are you secretly married? Why are you dragging your feet? Why haven’t you asked my parents for my hand in marriage? No, it must be something worse! You have a child from a secret relationship, eh…? Tell me, speak up!”

No, no and no! It has nothing to do with what you said!”

“Is it something else, some kind of twisted thing?”

“Please stop, I will tell you but I don’t know if that will change anything for you. I’m not married, nor do I have a child somewhere... because I can’t have children!”

“What…? How do you know? Have you lived with other women?”

“I have been with girls but I haven’t lived with anyone. The doctors discovered this when I was in the hospital for something else. They also confirmed it in a hospital in Vienna. As a child I suffered from the mumps. I swelled up and the swelling lasted for days. And here are the consequences.”

This new information shocked Zlata. She was stunned. Her head was buzzing with disbelief, questions and thoughts. She said:

“When were you planning to tell me all this?”

“I was looking for a way to tell you and told myself all children are the same…! The world is full of adopted children. Their adoptive parents take good care of them. Most children are better looked after by adoptive parents then by birth parents. It’s all up to how they are brought up and educated!”

From looking into Zlata’s eyes Kostantin came to the realization that everything was in vain. She no longer trusted him. Her mind worked quickly. This is what she thought:

“He confessed to me that he had been with other women. Of course he has been with other women… I suppose high class call girls… All alone all these summers and with all his money…? People like him do go to houses like that with easy and expensive women... He must have contracted a disease from one of them which made him infertile and now he feels ashamed so he had to make up this story about allegedly having the mumps? What was he thinking? No, its over with him, I’m ending it!”

Life for Zlata had to begin and end with love, trust, marriage, struggle for a better life and family; life was also passion, birth, growth and old age. The love that ignited in her, ended with Kostantin. Her life just began to look grey and hard. Suddenly, as if he was someone else, Konstantin sat there in silence looking straight ahead. He soon became insensitive like he didn’t care about anything or anyone. He may or may not have been guilty of what Zlata thought he had done. But, even if he told the truth, everything had fallen apart for Zlata. Her feelings were dulled and she lost her devotion and trust. He dragged her into this deep love affair in front of the entire world without warning; so that she could decide for herself what to do. Her ego awakened from her feelings of being exploited. Zlata got up and left with a muffled cry, she even ran. He didn’t even move at all. He didn’t know if it was worth it. So, the love affair was over. Kostantin left the city without seeing her again. Since then he threw himself even more fanatically into his work,

banking and trading, directing all his energy and mind into it. Since then he hasn’t fallen in love with anyone. He never again loved anyone like he loved Zlata Dimitrieva.