Chapter 2 Princely Secretary François-Thomas Linchou

In: Changing Subjects, Moving Objects
Author:
Constanţa Vintilă
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James Christian Brown
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‘I beg you, my Lord, since this Greek is truly a rascal who is trying to slander my brother, who is a true Frenchman, to obtain from the Porte a counter-ferman ordering this Greek to be brought back to Constantinople, where my brother will appear without fail to make known the justice of his cause.’1 The words are those of François-Thomas Linchou, secretary to the prince of Wallachia, Constantin Racoviţă,2 and they are addressed to the French ambassador to the Porte, Charles Gravier comte de Vergennes. In 1752, Joseph Linchou, through the Linchou Company, entered into an association with the Greek candle-maker Sterio to set up a candle factory in Iaşi. The Linchou Company brought capital to this venture, while Sterio contributed his experience as a master candle-maker and his connections in the network of Moldavian guilds and in political circles. The venture never came to fruition, but it unleashed a major political, economic, and diplomatic scandal, which was to spread beyond the borders of Moldavia, involving the Ottoman Empire and France. Considerable correspondence was generated around this diplomatic dispute,3 correspondence that can help us to understand not only the status of foreigners in the Ottoman Principalities but also the manner in which individuals fashioned themselves and others according to their surroundings and immediate interests. Moreover, these insights allow us to see how symbolic or material resources (such as honour, prestige, gifts, and social networks) were handled on multiple social and political fronts in order to negotiate social status or membership within a specific social group.

I am particularly interested in the metamorphoses undergone by the Linchou family in the course of a little over a century (between 1740 and 1850): from Linchou to Lenş and Linche de Moissac, between Marseilles, Istanbul, Bucharest, and Paris, from Moorish converts to true Frenchmen, from Levantine merchants to Wallachian office-holders, ending up as the French comtes de Moissac. For the purposes of this chapter, however I shall limit myself to the first member of the Linchou family who opens this file of manoeuvring of multiple identities: François-Thomas Linchou.4

Pour l’honneur de la nation: From French Linchou to Ottoman Subject

François-Thomas Linchou was born in Marseilles early in the eighteenth century, into a family of French merchants, the son of Maurice Linchou and Catherine Roux, and the brother of Jean-Baptise, Joseph-Marie, and Pierre-François.5 He arrived in Istanbul around 1739 as representative of the French company Manaire,6 and was involved there in trade and later in diplomacy on behalf of the French embassy.7 From this position, he managed to become integrated in the Phanariot network, and became close to the Racoviţă family.8 As diplomatic agent of Prince Constantin Racoviţă (1699–1764), François-Thomas Linchou carried out intense diplomatic and commercial activity, which is recorded in a rich correspondence. This correspondence reveals his gradual development of relations of friendship and clientelism with different political and commercial circles in Istanbul: the French diplomatic representation and the Phanariot elite. This latter group held important offices at key points in political decision-making: the Ottoman court, the Orthodox Patriarchate, and the Moldavian and Wallachian diplomatic representations in the Ottoman Empire.9 For each, François-Thomas Linchou offered his services in the procurement of luxury goods: information for everyone, porcelain tableware for the sultan’s mother, greyhounds or wine for the French ambassador, greyhounds and thoroughbred horses for diplomats, gold thread for Madame la Princesse, gold tobacco cases and perfumed tobacco for the prince, amber for the narghiles of the boyars, among other wares. His position in the service of the prince enabled him to support the cause of the Franciscan missionaries in Moldavia, who wanted to build a church—a position which indeed was also supported by repeated interventions on the part of the French ambassador Des Alleurs10 —not to mention his most important mission, which is apparent in every letter: to keep the prince on the side of France.

While François-Thomas Linchou remained in this field of diplomacy, the family, through its representation ‘Linchou & Compagnie’ or ‘Linchou père et fils’, was pushed forward both for the occupation of ‘posts in the Levant’11 and in Levantine commerce. When his patron, Constantin Racoviţă, became ruler of Moldavia or Wallachia, Linchou went with him as princely secretary, a post which he used to advance his family’s position in Balkan commerce and to obtain commercial privileges. Thus, between 1749 and 1758, we find his father and brothers sometimes in Bucharest, sometimes in Iaşi, and sometimes in Galaţi, setting up the first French companies in the Principalities (1753 in Galaţi and 1754 in Bucharest),12 trading in wax, honey, salted meat, hides, wine and wool, or handling the transit of porcelain, coffee, tobacco, horses, greyhounds, paper, mirrors, and clocks.13

Wax, Honey, and Cattle

Wax, honey, cattle, livestock, butter, and leather were the most sought-after products of Moldavia and Wallachia. For a better understanding of the nature of the business ventures of François-Thomas Linchou and his family, let me introduce at this point some details regarding the economic potential of these territories as presented in various foreign reports and in fiscal documents issued in the course of the eighteenth century.

It was not by chance that the Linchou family turned their attention towards the wax trade. Consular reports and memoranda, to which François-Thomas Linchou had access in his capacity as princely secretary, informed him about the economic potential of the two provinces: ‘La Valachie fournit la plus belle cire,’ says a memorandum of 1751. The document was compiled at the request of the Levant merchants, as is made explicit from the start, where it is stated that ‘La nation française de Constantinople,’ wishing to establish commercial links with Moldavia and Wallachia, has gathered ‘les informations et les connaissances les plus exactes.’ French fabrics (‘nos draps londrins seconds’), satin, coffee, sugar, and indigo might be exported to the Principalities. An experiment had even been made which showed that draps londrins seconds sold very well. The financial benefits offered by the commercialization of local products are also mentioned: ‘la Moldavie fournit la cire, et cette marchandise serait pour les Français le retour le plus avantageux.’14

However, it was not only France that showed an interest in the wax trade. As is noted in the memorandum, the Ragusans had for decades been exporting wax through Trieste to Venice.15 From Venetian diplomatic correspondence of the spring of 1744, we learn of the moment of crisis generated by the rise in price of the wax brought from Wallachia. On 18 March 1744, Wallachian wax is described as ‘tanto comune e necessario’ in Venice. The quarantine taxes and transit restrictions established by Empress Maria Theresa pushed up the price considerably,16 and attempts were made to find new centres of procurement.17 However, it was the Ottoman Empire that had the greatest interest in procuring these ‘common but necessary’ products from Wallachia and Moldavia at the lowest possible prices. The French memorandum mentions that the head of customs (‘le Grand douanier’) had drafted an order obliging all merchants to sell wax and hides only in Istanbul. The reference is to the ferman of Sultan Mahmud I of 30 December 1750/8 January 1751 (1164 evâil-i safer), commanding the Ottoman authorities in Rumelia, Ochakov, and Bender, and the princes of Moldavia and Wallachia to ensure that the merchants of the Porte could procure large quantities of wax, suet, wool, honey, and pastırma from the Principalities. In addition, it forbade sale of cattle, wax, honey, suet, and wool to ‘enemy territories,’18 and includes information about those involved in diverting these important goods towards such territories: ‘For some years, some have appeared among the monopolisers, among the Giaours and among the Jews, and they, relying on certain persons and giving them bribes, act in such a way that the merchants of the Porte of my joy, do not get the aforementioned goods, but they themselves buy them and transport them, and sell them in the Hungarian, and German, and Venetian, and Ragusan lands.’ The ferman enumerates the Armenian, Bosnian, Jewish, Ragusan, and Venetian merchants who, with the complicity of the princes and other office-holders, were procuring the goods mentioned at much higher prices than the Ottoman merchants, and thus were preferred by the producers.19

We do not know to what extent the sultan’s ferman was respected.20 The French memorandum refers to Ragusan merchants who had managed to subvert the Porte’s command,21 and it was not only the Ragusans who were involved in undermining the rules: those known as ‘Greek merchants’ had also managed to get their goods to Trieste and Venice, taking the risk of assuming false identities and other illicit practices.22

Documents which have been preserved concerning the activity of the ‘Greek’ merchant Constantin Malache—successive testaments, dowry contracts, and accounts ledgers—provide an insight into his commercial activities between 1741 and 1770. Foremost among these was trading in wax, which brought him considerable income. Settled initially in Sibiu (Hermannstadt), Constantin Malache then chose Râmnicul Vâlcea as his place of residence and the base of his commercial activities.23 This Wallachian town had the advantage of being close to Sibiu, and enabled him to gather wax from the surrounding area. His business operated with the help of family members (a brother and an uncle) and through the creation of a network linking Râmnicul Vâlcea to Sibiu, and from there to Trieste and Venice. On 22 February 1750, to make sure that the network was functioning, Constantin Malache left for Venice. On this occasion, fearing lest his ‘untimely death’ on the long and unfamiliar journey leave his wife and his two children (a son and a daughter) poor and without inheritance, he drew up his first testament. In March of the following year, however, Malache returned from Venice, though he offers no details about his journey there or about his commercial network; in subsequent years, still obsessed with the risk of ‘untimely death on the road’, Malache drew up further testaments and dowry documents, in which he included information about his business dealings and the goods he had bought on this journey. The wax road went by land on the route: Râmnic–Bran (where there was a lazaretto)–Sibiu–Trieste–Venice.24 The wax was transported in barrels or sacks, and stocked in ‘bundles’, either in its natural state or separated from the honey. In Venice, the trade was controlled by the Greek merchant Duka Tsoukalas (Romanian ‘Ţucala’), who sold the wax and then distributed the takings. As well as wax, Constantin Malache developed trade in hides, butter, honey, salt, and morocco leather, which he sent either only as far as Sibiu or further on to Trieste or Graz. When his son, also called Constantin, was older, he sent him with goods ‘and to learn’ first to Graz and then to Venice.25 Unfortunately, Constantin Malache gives us no indication as to how he managed to steer his way between Sultan Mahmud’s ferman and the Transylvanian quarantine.26

Wax was one of the most sought-after products, but the Principalities also offered butter, honey, cattle, and hides. Many other reports draw attention to this wealth of resources, which would bring huge profits if the products could be commercialized. It was this prospect that spurred François-Thomas Linchou to venture into the wax trade, while through the trading house he opened in Galați, his family dealt in many other products that were eagerly sought by Ottoman and Ragusan merchants alike.

Claude-Charles de Peysonnel writes in his Traité sur le commerce de la mer Noire (1787) that the Linchou brothers had erected in Galați a sort of manufactory for the preservation of ox meat. Large cattle were easy to procure at low prices, and so was salt. As such, the Linchou enterprise sought to develop ‘une branche de commerce très importante’, which would bring France ‘un grand benefice.’ The prepared meat was to be either exported to France or sold on the spot to the locals. To this end, the brothers had obtained permission to bring their ‘saleurs’ (makers of salt-dried meat) from France.27 This idea of exporting preserved meat was taken up again several decades later by other entrepreneurs, developing more sophisticated procedures but taking advantage of the same cheap raw materials.28

Linchou’s Commercial and Diplomatic Dealings

The Linchou family acted on the basis of privileges that they were continually requesting from the prince and from the French ambassador in Constantinople, and François-Thomas Linchou was able to keep these connections active by means of a steady supply of information.29 Trade in information and goods managed to enrich the Linchou brothers, but it also created a permanent dependence on their Phanariot patron and protector and on his networks. In their commercial dealings, the Linchou brothers succeeded in engaging the interest both of Prince Constantin Racoviţă and of the French ambassador to the Porte, other diplomatic personnel, and the French Levant merchants. The diplomatic correspondence provides information that helps us to reconstruct the numerous connections between the Linchou brothers and other French merchants operating in the Levant, Poland, or the Crimea and sharing the same commercial interests.

Furthermore, the Linchou company chose not become integrated in the Balkan trading network that dominated the trade routes linking the Principalities to the Ottoman Empire, Russia and the Habsburg Monarchy, but to create its own network,30 thus irritating various social and commercial interests. In this venture, the family banked on their status as ‘Frenchmen’.31 To be French was more important and more useful than to be a subject of the prince of Moldavia, and thus a re’aya, paying taxes to the Ottoman Empire (or, as it is expressed in the correspondence, ‘to the Grand Seigneur’, in other words, the sultan).

François-Thomas Linchou, at the helm of this operation, is the most visible and the most vocal. Linchou’s ‘self-fashioning’ is constructed and deconstructed according to personal and contextual interests. François-Thomas insists on being defended by ‘the honour of the French nation,’32 but mixes with local boyars in pursuit of Moldavian offices; he asks for it to be set down in black and white that he is French, while wishing to come closer to the local elite through a marriage of convenience.

But how did others relate to this status? Did they bow before his claimed French superiority? The status of being French had no great relevance for the native elite, unless it was backed up by a powerful patron. On his arrival at the court in Iaşi in 1749, princely secretary François-Thomas Linchou tried to protect his business interests by accepting an administrative office. He acquired the position of grand sluger,33 and became Leinţul franţuju (Linchou the Frenchman) to the boyar elite.34 While his holding of an office annoyed the ‘native’ wing of the boyars, his closeness to Constantin Racoviţă, through his function as princely secretary, upset the Greek faction in the Prince’s entourage: ‘The free access that I have to His Highness at whatever hour arouses the jealousy of most of His Highness’s boyars, who do not know the reason for this free access.’35 On top of that, the arrival of his family in Moldavia annoyed everybody. When he first came to Moldavia, François-Thomas was accompanied by his brother Pierre-François, who continued the family’s business activity under the cover of minor jobs offered by Prince Racoviţă, so as not to irritate the local elite. The financial gain to be obtained from the intermediate trade between Moldavia and Istanbul, and above all the consolidation of Thomas’s position, encouraged other members of the family also to hasten to Moldavia. The Greeks and the boyars ‘never cease to say that I seek to fill Moldavia little by little with Frenchmen,’36 François-Thomas writes from Iaşi on 4 June 1753 to the French ambassador to the Porte, Roland Puchot Des Alleurs.37 At the time he was trying to delay the coming of his father to Iaşi, after his brothers had long since descended on the Principalities. In any case, he writes, if his father arrived in Moldavia, he would quickly realise that ‘merchants are so despised there, as are all those who are not attached to the principality.’38 This contempt is shown in the way that a series of rules of good conduct are disregarded in the presence of foreigners precisely in order to underline the difference of status: ‘The Greek boyars regard the merchants who are in the country with much contempt, because they leave them [standing] in front of them without having them cover their heads or sit down.’39

As he stubbornly insisted on remaining a foreigner, adhering neither to one faction nor to the other, François-Thomas fell into disfavour with the grand postelnic, Iordache Stavarache.40 A Greek personage, the holder of an important office concerned with the handling of foreign affairs, Iordache Stavarache was supported by his father-in-law, Manolache Geanet, the capuchehaia (i.e., the diplomatic agent) of the Phanariot prince at the Ottoman court. By incurring Stavarache’s disfavour, François-Thomas thus lost (for a while) much of his influence with Constantin Racoviţă, who was dependent from a diplomatic point of view on his capuchehaia. Linţu the Frenchman, raised to the rank of grand sluger, had landed between the political factions that were struggling for precedence in their relations with the prince.41

The boyars in their turn accused him of arrogance: ‘He had become very impudent and paid no regard to anyone,’ wrote the chronicler Enache Kogălniceanu.42 It should also be added that his being given a new office, that of grand vameş (i.e. head of customs), which was much more profitable than that of grand sluger, created tension among the boyars who had been pushed aside by a foreigner: ‘The disgrace of M. Linchou was produced by jealousy for his being favoured and for his being the Prince’s head of customs, which takes a lucrative and important charge away from someone of the Moldavian nation, who cannot without envy or regret see it filled by a foreigner,’ writes the French ambassador.43 Beyond the inherent envy provoked by his holding such a high office, the testimonies of contemporaries present François-Thomas Linchou behaving in an authoritarian manner, proud of the position he held, and which he used to obtain profits and privileges. Abbot Sinadon describes ‘Linciu the papist’ as being arrogant, influential and powerful. The abbot confesses, on 24 October 1764, that only his fear of this powerful figure has made him turn a blind eye to some illegal purchases of estates: knowing ‘what man was musiu Linciu,’ ‘the vameş of His Highness Constantin Racoviţă,’ who always acts with ‘arrogance’ and ‘force.’44 The abbot’s ‘fear’ adds a new element to the definition of the foreigner: the religious dimension. Linchou was a Catholic, a ‘papist’. However, what abbot Sinadon’s account emphasises is the vameş’s marginality within the local elite, which he tried to enter by immoral means, using his concubine’s connections to acquire estates which would have otherwise been subject to pre-emption rights.

François-Thomas Linchou took a further step towards social integration when his patron moved to the throne of Wallachia: marriage. Marriage was the most accessible method of social integration into a network. Practised successfully by the vast majority of the ‘Greeks’ who arrived in the Principalities in the suite of the Phanariot princes, marriage proved useful to both parties: the newcomer acquired social recognition among the native boyars, which gave him the right to settle in the Principalities, to buy properties, and to enter into the political game even after the removal of his political patron; the boyars in their turn were brought closer to the power group around the Phanariot prince.

On his arrival in Bucharest, in 1753, François-Thomas Linchou kept not only the job of princely secretary, but also his influence with Constantin Racoviţă, since he now received the office of grand cămăraş.45 Caught up in complexities of politics and administration, and not knowing how much longer he would be tarrying in the Principalities, the Frenchman tried to create a new belonging for himself and to obtain the social recognition and support of the native elite. As such, he sought to follow a path of proven efficiency, namely marriage.46 His betrothal to Ancuţa Sturza, the daughter of the Moldavian boyar Sandu Sturza, had taken place already during his residence in Moldavia. The lineage of the Sturza boyars was a very important one, possessing not only enormous wealth but also important positions in the social hierarchy47. François-Thomas Linchou judged that the engagement would be very advantageous for him: ‘On my departure from Moldavia, as an advantageous marriage presented itself, both materially and because of the family, in the person of Cucoană [Lady] Ancuța Sturza, a relative of His Highness, I was engaged before my departure from Moldavia.’48 His betrothed’s father had held the highest positions in the political apparatus, serving in turn as grand ban, grand spătar and even caimacan49, and he was known to be close to Mihai Racoviţă, the father of Constantin Racoviţă. The alliance would have included Linchou in one of the most powerful boyar families and would have brought him even closer to the Racoviţă lineage, from which princes had been recruited for the thrones of the two Principalities. The marriage that he requested with such insistence, two years after the celebration of the betrothal, also had a very practical aim: the protection of the business interests that he had left in Iaşi on his move to Wallachia.50 He thus had much to gain.

The materialisation of the marriage, however, raised problems. These were far more political than religious in nature. The confessional difference between the Orthodox Ancuţa Sturza and the Catholic François-Thomas Linchou is nowhere mentioned, and the betrothal had already been celebrated without this minor detail proving an impediment.51 It was not here that the problem lay, therefore, but rather in the status of the two persons: Ancuţa Sturza belonged to the boyar elite and was a Moldavian subject under the authority of Prince Matei Ghica, and implicitly, that of the Ottoman Empire; as such, she needed a permit of passage and the prince’s agreement for the marriage to be finalized. François-Thomas Linchou was a mere merchant, a French subject resident in the Levant, and would have to submit to the laws of France.52 The ambassador of France in Istanbul was agreeable to a compromise, promising that he would ‘turn a blind eye’ if the marriage took place, but he pointed out that ‘no French person in the Levant can marry without the agreement of the Minister [of the Navy].’ In other words, the French diplomatic representative in the Levant might tolerate the match, but he asked Linchou to write directly to the Minister of the Navy specifying his reasons for disregarding the ‘general rule.’53 As he had left a considerable quantity of unsold wax in Moldavia in the care of his brothers, François-Thomas desperately needed this marriage in order to prevent the confiscation of his goods and the ruin of his trading activity.54 His argumentation hinges on the fluidity of the borders of the Levant: Moldavia and Wallachia belong to Christendom, not to the Levant.55 As such, he was a Frenchman sent on a mission to the prince of Wallachia with the agreement of the king, who should take into account the services rendered and grant him this favour: ‘I therefore presume that the Court will do me the kindness of not disapproving a marriage that is advantageous to me.’56 This was the status that he needed now: a Frenchman in a Christian country, not a Frenchman in the Levant. But he also needed to belong to the local boyar class, in the interests of social integration.

All these forms of status were turned to his advantage when necessary: ‘Permit me, my lord, to point out to you that there are some differences between me and the other Frenchmen who are settled in the Levant, given that I am here with the knowledge and even the approval of the Court; furthermore, one may regard this country as part of Christendom and excluded from the Levant. Besides, my residence here is uncertain, and it may be that I shall be obliged to remain here a very long time.’57 Social differences constituted another weak point in the contract: François-Thomas Linchou was a mere functionary in the service of Prince Constantin Racoviţă, while Ancuţa Sturza belonged to the highest rank of the Moldavian boyar class and was related to the most important boyar families; indeed she was a first cousin of the same Constantin Racoviţă. In the interests of social equilibrium, François-Thomas insistently requested that he be granted a noble title by the king of France, Louis XV, emphasising his merits in the service of the kingdom.58

Like all expatriates, François-Thomas Linchou and his brothers acquired a certain amount of linguistic, legislative, and administrative knowledge, which they put to use in daily life. From this point of view, it would be interesting to know several small details regarding their everyday social life: what sort of language did François-Thomas use to communicate with the locals; what sort of clothes did he wear; what sort of house did he have; and with which circle of friends and acquaintances did he socialise in Iaşi and Bucharest?

On 19 December 1756, François-Thomas Linchou wrote to the French ambassador in Poland, Charles-François de Broglio suggesting that he intervene before the king regarding the establishment of a consulate in the Principalities.59 The idea was not new: it had been raised by other French subjects who had tried to do business in Moldavia and Wallachia and had realised the necessity of diplomatic protection through a consulate. François-Thomas, however, was more insistent and more argumentative, out of highly personal motives. After petitioning the count de Vergennes for the setting up of a consulate,60 he then urged de Broglio, who was in Paris, to request a French consul in Moldavia.

Fariba Zarinebaf has presented numerous other cases of conflict between French, Greek, and Muslim merchants, underlining the necessity of consular intervention to protect French subjects.61 She also notes the weak authority of the ambassadors, who were unable to impose respect for the articles of the capitulations (ahdname).62 This is easy to observe in the peripheral territories of the Ottoman Empire, where French merchants were far from the authority of the sultan, and also from the protection offered by embassies or consulates. The protection of foreign merchants (especially French) who under the ahdname of 1740 had been accorded the right to travel and trade in the Black Sea region was becoming a necessity.63 Thomas Linchou discovered for himself how hard it was for a foreigner who was neither an Ottoman subject nor an Orthodox Christian merchant to survive, let alone carry on business by the Black Sea.64 Corruption, clientelary relations, inter-faith connections, and patronage frequently figure in his correspondence as factors that interfered with economic activity. For all these reasons, Thomas Linchou insisted on the need for a consul, and even proposed a person for the job: his brother, who had been in Iaşi for six years and spoke ‘the language of the country’.65

Elsewhere, Maurice Linchou describes his and his sons’ integration in Moldavian society as making good progress. ‘We are quite well, as if we were in the middle of France,’ he writes on 11 September 1753 to Ambassador Des Alleurs. At the same time, speaking of one of his sons, he presents him as ‘known and respected by the whole people,’ and especially by ‘the commandant here [in Galaţi] and his servants.’66 The reality behind Maurice Linchou’s claim is confirmed by other first-hand accounts from the time: François-Thomas and Joseph had managed to establish social relations with some members of the local boyar class. Even if officially and within their group, the boyars complained that the French were taking their posts, some of them were nevertheless trying to maintain contact with these men who enjoyed the protection and favour of the prince. A note in an expenses ledger informs us that Joseph and François-Thomas Linchou had lent the grand vistier (treasurer) Toader Paladi 8,000 lei, a considerable sum, which they recovered by instalments: ‘to Iozăf [Joseph], the brother of Musulințul [Monsieur Linchou] the sluger what he had to take’ and ‘96 lei and 60 bani, he gave to Musulințul the sluger out of 8,000 lei which he gave as a loan.’67 François-Thomas Linchou the grand sluger and Toader Paladi the grand vistier were members of the princely council and often met at the court of Prince Constantin Racoviţă. Trade in wax needed the approval of the grand vistier, so it was more than necessary to cultivate good relations with him.

Having lived for a time in Istanbul, the Linchou family were familiar with the oriental costume worn in the Principalities and used it for protection against any hostility and to ease their social integration. Such vestimentary duality was accepted in the period, and served a person’s immediate interests, especially when the nature of their profession required them to travel through various empires. Even the French ambassador, Vergennes,68 adopted oriental costume, and so did the Linchou brothers, adapting to their surroundings. The adoption of a specific local costume facilitated their access to the trading networks by means of which they formed business connections. For example, in the spring of 1754, when Constantin Racoviţă decided to send him to Warsaw, François-Thomas Linchou asked one of his brothers who was in Istanbul ‘to send him clothes à la française by the intermediary of a capuchehaia who will undertake to send them quickly.’69 Similarly, knowledge of the Romanian language (and presumably also Greek) helped them to communicate and, most importantly, to conduct business. Thus, François-Thomas Linchou (and the whole family) took essential steps in the process of identification, adopting the lifestyle specific to the social elite among whom they pursued their activity. In Iaşi, François-Thomas began a ‘family’ life, living with a certain Vasilica, through whom he bought vineyards and estates in Bucium, a village close to the city.70 As his concubine (ţiitoare as the documents label her in Romanian), Vasilica followed Thomas on his journeys between Iaşi and Bucharest, as Prince Constantin Racoviţă moved from one capital to the other.71 Speaking the language of the country, adopting the costume of the local elite, buying estates, and living with a local woman, had not François-Thomas Linchou assimilated all the criteria that designated him as an Ottoman subject (re‘âyâ)?

Re‘âyâ v. françois

Returning now to the candle business, it should be explained that the artisan of the Linchou business ventures was in the first place François-Thomas Linchou. As the political and diplomatic interface for the commercial dealings of the Linchou Company, François-Thomas got involved in and in fact took charge of the solution of this dispute. The litigation ended up being presented in Iaşi before the Prince, in Giurgiu before the kadı, in Bucharest before the vizier and the aga, and in Constantinople before the Divan. The venture brought to light invented identities, forged documents, networks, and favours, used now by one side, now by the other. At present, I can only give the point of view expressed by the Linchou family in their voluminous correspondence with the ambassador of France in Istanbul, as I do not yet have access to more documents that would complete the picture.72

It seems that six months after the establishment of the candle factory, Joseph Linchou, one of the brothers, was unhappy with the progress of the venture. Consequently he closed the factory and confiscated all the goods in the shop in order to recover the money he had invested: ‘Seeing that Sterio was squandering the capital, because of his bad behaviour, Joseph Linchou withdrew all the goods that were to be found in the shop in order to recover his capital and put the business in order.’ Sterio owed 538 piastres. He did not have the money, and thus ended up in the debtors’ prison. From this point on, a long revenge fell upon the Linchou brothers: Sterio fabricated a receipt according to which Joseph owed him 3,407 piastres, the sum of all the goods delivered in the course of their collaboration but never paid for. He claimed that he had been given the receipt by Pierre-François in Rusçuk (Ruse), in the presence of a number of other merchants, signed and sealed in the name of his brother Joseph.73 On the basis of this ‘document’, the Linchou brothers were dragged all over the Empire, sometimes in irons, often blackmailed, suffering violation of the privacy of their home in the middle of the night, and sent into exile or subjected to the humiliation of the confiscation of their property. Each time, the key point of defence concerned identity: when Sterio brought the case before the sultan, Joseph Linchou was cited as a re‘âyâ with business on Moldavian territory, while his brother, the experienced François-Thomas requested a ferman stating that Joseph was French, and thus benefitted from protection.74 According to the capitulations concluded between France and the Ottoman Empire,75 a French subject could not be dragged out of his home, as had happened to Joseph: ‘The çavuş (executive agent) came into Linchou’s house to seize him, which is contrary to the capitulations, for the house of a Frenchman may not be entered no matter where he is in Turkey.’76 The çavuş sent by the Imperial Divan had even, François-Thomas believed, violated the laws of Moldavia, which stated ‘that he may not enter any house and that he must read the ferman before the Prince and request the person sought by the Porte.’77 Without respecting either the capitulations or the laws of Moldavia, the imperial çavuş had taken Joseph in irons, after he had been cited repeatedly to stand opposite Sterio before the Imperial Divan, a treatment which François-Thomas judged to be ‘contraire à l’honneur de la nation françoise.’78 More than that, the honour of the Prince of Moldavia was injured by such a violent intrusion, which had resulted in aggressive behaviour towards the officials who requested that the Moldavian laws be respected. ‘The Greeks say,’ writes François-Thomas, ‘that a subject (re‘âyâ) would have resolved this matter by now, even if he had not enjoyed protection’ as a French subject did, and that ‘Sterio would have received exemplary punishment.’

The very reputation of France had been affected by the prolongation of the matter, and by the non-involvement of the ambassador in the protection of the French and the defence of their rights. ‘The eyes of Moldavia are on us, curious to see what direction this matter will take,’ declaimed François-Thomas, ceaselessly invoking ‘the honour of the nation’ and implicitly ‘the honour of the French.’79 The rhetoric of the Frenchman’s defence is obvious. In fact, Christian merchants from Moldavia and Wallachia, Ottoman subjects, often appealed to the judgement of the Imperial Divan when they were unhappy with the sentences or mediation offered by the local authorities, thus providing an occasion for the repeated interference of Ottoman envoys in the justice system.80

The French diplomatic representation intervened in the conflict, trying to counter the financial pretentions of the Greek Sterio (who in the meantime been joined by another Greek by the name of Dimitraki) both through constant communication with the Linchou brothers, offering them information and advice and producing the documents they needed, and through numerous approaches to the Ottoman authorities. Nevertheless, François-Thomas Linchou judged their interventions insufficient and ineffective. ‘I take the liberty of telling Your Excellency that it is most disgraceful that a Frenchman should be exposed to such a business and the dragomans not give him any warning, in spite of the orders given by Your Excellency,’ he writes on 19 April 1756, after finding out that Sterio had dropped his accusations against his brother Pierre-François and directed them against him, and had managed to obtain a ferman of the Porte for him to be brought to Istanbul as a debtor of the sum of 3,047 piastres, which he refused to pay, relying on the protection of Prince Racoviţă. He had had to learn of the accusations against him from the prince’s capuchehaias, who had striven to prevent such a ferman being sent.81 He wrote that the stakes concerned not only the Linchou brothers, but France itself, which must prove to its subjects, and to other nations, that it was capable of fighting and defending its citizens: ‘We are waiting here [Iaşi] to see end of it, to know the credit that our nation has with the present government.’82 The affair came to an end in the autumn of 1756, when the three brothers—Pierre-François, Joseph-Marie and Jean-Baptiste—returned to Iași, while their elder brother was in Poland, in the service of the ‘nation’.83 I have not yet found information as to whether the brothers managed to recover the 3,047 piastres handed over to the çavuş when François was taken in irons; however it is clear that François-Thomas Linchou did not succeed in recovering the 700 piastres he had paid to the kadı of Giurgiu for the ferman given in their favour by the vizir Agassi. The whole affair had cost him not only money but also time spent on the road to Istanbul to prove his innocence, while his real business, trading in wax, stagnated. For this reason, the unexpected removal from power of Constantin Racoviţă on 14 March 1757, after a year on the throne of Moldavia, caught him unprepared and with his business activities dispersed and unprotected.84 A year later, François-Thomas and Jean-Baptiste Linchou were still in Iași, trying to recover their money, to pay their debts, and to withdraw to Istanbul, impelled by the hostile attitude of the new prince, Scarlat Ghica, who did not want them in the country. Vergennes insistently asked Ghica to offer them the necessary protection and assistance so that they might ‘terminer les affaires qui les ont conduit en Moldavie’ and withdraw safely.85

Honour, rights, protection were words that fashioned the identity of a Frenchman. For François-Thomas Linchou, the capitulations were above any law; in fact, he shared the opinion of other Westerners regarding ‘the primacy of the capitulations’.86 The status of re‘âyâ was invoked only to obtain privileges or to force the resolution of a conflict. François-Thomas’s attempt to combine his two identities, enjoying only the advantages of each, ultimately cost him his head.

On 14 March 1760, François-Thomas Linchou was decapitated before Sultan Mustafa III, accused of grave offence to the Empire in his desperate attempt to restore Constantin Racoviţă to the throne of Moldavia.87 The French embassy proved unable to give a definite answer to the Reis Effendi’s questions: ‘Was Linchou a genuine Frenchman; was his service to the prince compatible with this status; and had he ever paid tribute to the Grand Seigneur’?88 The Frenchman’s death on the ‘scaffold’ took the French embassy in Istanbul by surprise. It had not had time to build a defence, or even to know the charges. According to Ambassador Vergennes, Linchou had fallen prey to his own intrigues, wishing ‘to make himself useful to Prince Constantin Racoviţă, to whom he had linked his fate.’ Getting involved in a series of ‘schemes’, Linchou had apparently written a number of letters that were somewhat damaging to the Ottoman court, claiming that he had the agreement of the grand vizier.89 It was the interception of the letters that led to his decapitation, confirming his character as an ‘adventurer’, and thus merging him with the ‘Greeks’ of the Empire, who were often so described in diplomatic correspondence.90

However, Linchou had made so many efforts to fashion a Moldavian status for himself, albeit only for the sake of privileges, that rumour had already assigned to him the identity of a ‘rebel Moldavian boyar’, far from that of an honourable Frenchman.91 ‘Dass sie ihn nicht als einen Franken sondern als einen aufrührerichen moldauer Boyaren ansähen, der das Leben verwirket hätte,’ writes Schwachhein, the Viennese ambassador, to Chancellor Kaunitz, on 18 March 1760.92 If, in the eyes of the Turks, Linchou had put on the clothes of a rebel Moldavian boyar, to his conationals, the French Levant merchants, he had become an immoral ‘Greek’, who had dishonoured the French nation by his behaviour and as such deserved to die. In their petition, the French merchants expressed their concern with the inability of their king to protect his subjects. They stated that, together with his Greek clothes, Linchou had taken up tastes, manners, and morals such as only Greeks are capable of, going so far as to maintain a harem in the Moldavian capital.93 This behaviour had separated him from the honour of the French nation, noted the French merchants in the memoir, hiding behind the anonymity of the group.

As Stephen Greenblatt has pointed out, such constant adoption of new ‘masks’ would inevitably lead to ‘some loss of self.’94 Although repeatedly invoking ‘the honour of being French,’ François-Thomas Linchou seems to have had difficulties in his attempts to integrate himself in the community of French merchants in the Levant. They claimed that he had become a veritable Greek, since not even the Turks could distinguish him any more from the other subjects of the Empire.95 After the tragic event, the French authorities tried to distance themselves from the ‘adventurer’ Linchou, who had linked himself too closely to the ‘Greek prince,’96 and thus by his behaviour forfeited any claim to French consular protection.97

François-Thomas Linchou donned the clothes of identity according to context and interest, adapting to the times but always seeking protection behind ‘the honour of the French nation.’ Others would categorise him sometimes as Moldavian, sometimes as Greek, starting from the exterior and public manifestations of this French subject in search of social recognition.

*

On 20 December 1842, the Collège Archéologique et Généalogique de France accepted the titles of nobility presented by Phillipe Jean-Baptiste de Linche for admission as a titular member.98 Phillipe Linche (or Linchou), the nephew of François-Thomas Linchou,99 had succeeded where his uncle had failed: he had reached the highest level of the Wallachian boyar class, married a boyaress and accumulated a vast fortune. The likeness of Filip Lenș has been preserved for us thanks to the painter Ida Fielitz (1847–1913). In 1888, she recopied the portrait of the famous boyar, probably from the visual archive of the family members settled in Paris. Appointed a dikaiophylax of the Great Eastern Church in 1821, Filip Lenș had managed skilfully to work his way into Phanariot cross- border networks, taking advantage of his French roots, the support of the French consul Hugot, and the protection of his patron, Constantin Filipescu, who introduced him into the circles of the princes Ioan Caragea (1812–1818) and Grigore Ghica IV (1822–1828). His path to the highest offices was thus opened up. He served as grand vornic (interior minister), grand vistier (treasurer), and logofăt (chancellor) of Justice, and dreamed of attaining the rank of prince of Wallachia. Having become a boyar and high office-holder, with a mansion on the main artery of Bucharest, the Mogoşoaia Road,100 Phillipe (Filip) returned to his French noble roots, traceable back to the Linche de Moissac branch.101 The painting captures all his pride and grandeur, while his costume and general self-presentation link him to his Ottoman allegiance. The dog at his feet is the symbol of fidelity—shared of course among his various patrons, Greek, Wallachian, Ottoman, Russian, and French.

The Linchou case speaks of the multiple processes of identification that individuals could use to traverse and adapt to empires. The distinction between locals (pământeni) and outsiders (străini) highlights a complex network of identity and belongings in which the boundaries of ‘Greekness’, ‘Moldavianness’ or ‘Frenchness’ appear somewhat fluid. The Orthodox Christians of the Ottoman Empire, such as Sterio the Greek, the candle-maker, integrated relatively quickly into Moldavian and Wallachian society because of their faith and political proximity, and were assimilated into the social fabric, while Christians of different confessions (Catholic, Armenian, or Protestant) bore the mark of difference. This was the situation of the Linchou family, who succeeded in integrating by way of commerce but would never manage to penetrate the social fabric of the community. Ultimately, François-Thomas Linchou adapted to every situation, trying to make as much profit as possible for himself and his family. It was this adaptability102 that was held against him from all sides, the adaptability that helped him to survive, but that negated the attributes of a distinct French nation in the Levant.

Fig. 2
Fig. 2

Ida Fieltz (1847–1913) – Filip Lenş (Philippe Linche) (1779–1853) – great logothete, 1888, National Museum of Art, Bucharest.

1

‘Je vous prie, Monseigneur, que, puisque ce Grec est un véritable coquin et qui cherche de faire une avanie à mon frère qui est véritable françois d’obtenir de la Porte un contre-firmanat qui ordonne de ramener ce Grec à Constantinople, où mon frère se rendra sans faute pour faire connoître la justice de sa cause.’ in Filitti, Lettres, 153, 23 September/4 October 1755.

2

Constantin Racoviţă reigned as prince several times in Moldavia (1749–1753, 1756–1757) and Wallachia (1753–1756, 1763–1764).

3

For earlier comparative studies on transregional dispute/scandal see Tolga U. Esmer, ‘Notes on a Scandal: Transregional Networks of Violence, Gossip, and Imperial Sovereignty in the Late Eighteenth-Century Ottoman Empire’, Comparative Studies in Society and History, 58, 1, (2016), 99–128.

4

See Marian Coman, François-Thomas Linchou (1720–1760), in Călători străini despre ţările române, Suplimentul II (Bucharest: 2016), 253–258.

5

Information about this family is offered in M. André Borel D’Hauterive, ‘Notice Historique et Genealogique sur la Maison de Linche’, Revue Historique de la Noblesse, publiée par M. André Borel D’Hauterive, tom II (Paris: 1841), 365–373.

6

AN.AE, Paris, Fond Consulats. Mémoires et Documents. Affaires Etrangères, AE/B/III/253, ff. 3–4. See also the index ‘Linchou’ elaborated by Anne Mézin. I would like to express my gratitude to her for offering me the unpublished index.

7

See also Christine Vogel, ‘The Caftan and the Sword. Dress and Diplomacy in Ottoman–French Relations Around 1700’, in Fashioning the Self in Transcultural Settings: The Uses and Significance of Dress in Self-Narratives, ed. Claudia Ulbrich and Richard Wittmann (Würzburg: 2015), 25–-45; Maurits H. van den Boogert, ‘Intermediaries par excellence? Ottoman Dragomans in the Eighteenth Century’, in Hommes de l’entre-deux. Parcours individuals et portraits de groups sur la frontière de la Méditerranée (XVIe–XXe siècle), ed. Bernard Heyberger and Chantal Verdeil (Paris: 2009), 95–114.

8

Constantin Racoviţă took refuge in the house of Thomas Linchou in Constantinople when he was pursued by the sultan’s men after the deposition and imprisonment of his father Mihai Racoviţă, prince of Wallachia (1741–1744). As a reward for Linchou’s assistance, Racoviţă offered him the post of secretary when he received the throne of Moldavia in 1749, and wrote in this connection to Des Alleurs, the French ambassador in Constantinople, whose agreement was necessary. See Mihordea, Politica orientală franceză, 174.

9

On this topic see Christine Philliou, Biography of an Empire: Governing Ottomans in an Age of Revolution (Berkeley: 2011).

10

See the correspondence between Linchou and Des Alleurs on this subject in the summer of 1751 in Filitti, Lettres, 34–42.

11

Filitti, Lettres, 82–84: 7/18 December 1752.

12

The (failed) attempt of the Linchou brothers to establish commercial links between France and the Principalities was recorded by Claude-Charles de Peyssonnel, French consul in the Crimea, Cana and Smyrna between 1753 and 1782. In 1758, Peyssonnel visited Moldavia in the company of Pierre-François Linchou. See Claude-Charles de Peyssonnel, Traité sur le commerce de la Mer Noire (Paris: 1787), vol. 2, 207–209.

13

‘Linchou et fils’ were working in Constantinople on 22 May 1750 when Maurice Linchou’s involvement was mentioned in a commercial litigation regarding the selling of 36 ballots of wool. Balthazard-Marie Emerigon, Traité des assurances et des contrats à la grosse (Marseille: 1784), vol. I, 323.

14

See the memoirs of 1751, AAE, Paris, Correspondence Politique, Turquie, Suppl. 15, ff. 86, 89. Documents published also in Hurmuzaki (ed.), Documente (Bucharest: 1897) I1, 608–610.

15

A memorandum of 1751, drafted in Constantinople, ‘Commerce des Ragusains, Allemands et Polonais’, notes that ‘Bosnia, Wallachia, and Moldavia are open to the Ragusans who come and buy hides and wax, competing with the Hungarians and the Poles. They then sell cloth from Poland and Leipzig, which is much tougher and less fine than nos londrins seconds.’ AAE, Correspondence Politique, Turquie, 15, f. 75.

16

After the outbreaks of plague in 1738–1739, which spread from Moldavia and Wallachia into Transylvania, a Sanitary Commission was set up to enforce quarantine measures on the borders. The requirement to spend time in quarantine and to pay a tax led many to find less legal methods of crossing the borders. By the ordinance of 14 January 1744, new measures were taken against those who were undermining the quarantine. At the same time, in order to avoid abuses on the part of customs officers, a single tariff was instituted for the ‘disinfection’ of the goods that were to pass through quarantine. Ioan Moga, ‘Politica economică austriacă şi comerţul Transilvaniei în veacul XVIII’, Anuarul Institutului de Istorie Naţională, VII (1939), 138–139.

17

See the correspondence between the doge of Venice and Ambassador Contarini at the Porte, with a view either to finding new areas from which to bring salt (Poland, Saxony, and Bohemia are proposed) or ways of having these measures relaxed by making approaches to Count Windischgrätz, the governor of Vienna. Hurmuzaki, Documente, 9/1, 685–689.

18

Valeriu Veliman (ed.), Relaţiile româno–otomane, 1711–1821. Documente turceşti (Bucharest: 1984), 315–319.

19

Veliman, Relaţiile româno–otomane, 318.

20

The princes themselves were involved in this trade, variously taking the side of the Ottoman merchants or of the ‘giaours’ according to their interests. For example, on 15 June 1755, the princely larder bought a considerable quantity of wax from merchants in Moldavia, and then sent it, through the merchant Mustafa Hagi Emir, to the market in Constantinople (BAR, Fond Documente Istorice, XII/34, 35, 36).

21

Hurmuzaki, Documente, I/1, 609.

22

On this topic see Daniele Andreozzi, ‘Croissance et économie licite, illicit et informelle à Trieste au XVIIIe siècle’, in Marguerite Figeac-Monthus, Christophe Lastécouères (eds.), Territoires de l’illicite et identités portuaires et insulaires. Du XVIe siècle au XXe siècle (Paris: 2012), 173–188.

23

We know nothing about Constantin Malache’s identity. It is possible that he came from the region of Epirus, together with his brother Chirică and his mother, and that he settled first in Sibiu and moved from there to Wallachia. He was merely one link in a vast network of ‘Greek’ merchants engaged in cross-border trade. See Gheorghe Lazăr, De la Râmnic la Veneţia şi Sfântul Mormânt. Catastiful negustorului Constantin Malache (secolul al XVIII-lea), in Laurenţiu Rădvan (ed.), Oraşe vechi, oraşe noi în spaţiul românesc. Societate, economie şi civilizaţie urbană în prag de modernitate (sec. XVI-jumătatea sec. XIX) (Iaşi: 2014), 79–89.

24

To give just two examples of how he records his journey on the wax road in his record book: ‘7 March 1759: 6,114 ocas of wax with all expenses to Bran, in the lazaretto at Bran rent for the sacks, expenses to Trieste,’ which brought him an income of 7,359.84 thalers; ‘24 April 1760: 3,642 ocas of wax, 30 sacks, with all expenses to Trieste, 12 lei per sack,’ which brought him an income of 5,528.18 thalers. See Gheorghe Lazăr (ed.), Catastife de negustori din Ţara Românească (secolele XVIII–XIX) (Iaşi: 2016), 30–32.

25

Lazăr, Catastife de negustori, 17–67.

26

Through the commercial Companies in Sibiu and Brașov, many other ‘Greek’ merchants traded in wax, procuring it from the Principalities to be sold in Trieste, Venice, or Vienna. Dumitru Limona, Negustorii ‘greci’ şi arhivele lor comerciale, ed. Loredana Dascăl (Iaşi: 2016).

27

Peyssonnel, Traité sur le commerce de la mer Noire, II, 199.

28

Constantin Ardeleanu, ‘A British Meat Cannery in Moldavia (1844–1852)’, Slavonic and East European Review, 90/4 (2012), 671–704.

29

See the Report of the French ambassador Des Alleurs, on January 1754, about the importance of the Principalities for the transit of information between Paris and Constantinople. AAE, Correspondence Politique, Turquie, 127, ff. 22–41.

30

Among other documents, see ‘Recommandation pour une maison de commerce à Constantinople à la famille de S. Linchou’, written by M. Potocki in Lublin, 2 December 1754, and sent to the French ambassador in Constantinople. AAE, Correspondence Politique, Turquie, 127, f. 356.

31

When he became secretary to prince Constantin Racoviţă, Linchou’s ‘fidelity’ was checked by the French authorities, as from an ordinary French merchant in Constantinople, he had become an important piece in the games of French diplomacy. The secretary of state for Foreign Affairs, Louis Philogène Brûlart, marquis de Puysieulx, asked Vincent de Lusignan, the commissioner for the Navy to check whether or not Linchou was Provençal. The commissioner’s reply was that: ‘il y a à Marseille une famille de négociants nommée Linchou que je connois. Je crois que le jeune homme qui est auprès de l’hospodar de Moldavie étoit cy devant négociant à Constantinople’. Mihordea, Politica orientală franceză , 181.

32

On ‘French Nation’ from Istanbul see Edhem Eldem, French Trade in Istanbul in the Eighteenth Century (Leiden: 1999), 204–210. For the use of the term ‘nation’ in the past, see Eric R. Dursteler, Venetians in Constantinople: Nation, Identity, and Coexistence in the Early Modern Mediterranean (Baltimore: 2006).

33

His appointment may have been connected to his commercial activities, as the grand sluger was responsible for the distribution, on the part of the princely court, of meat and candles to boyars and foreigners who enjoyed this right. With the reforms of Prince Constantin Mavrocordat, the office of grand sluger lost its traditional content, and its holder received specific duties from the prince. See Fotino, Istoria Generală a Daciei, 292–293.

34

Pseudo-Enache Kogălniceanu, Letopiseţul Ţării Moldovei de la domnia întâi şi până la a patra domnie a lui Costandin Mavrocordat vv. (1733–1774), ed. Aurora Ilieş and Ioana Zmeu (Bucharest: 1987), 50.

35

‘l’accès libre que j’ay auprès de Son Altesse à quelle heure que ce soit excitent la jalousie de la plupart de boyard de Son Altesse, qui ignore les raisons de ce libre accès.’ Filitti, Lettres, 59. Constantin Racoviţă considers him ‘one of the closest and most faithful office-holders’; AAE, Correspondence Politique, Turquie, vol. 127, f. 307, 20 July 1754.

36

‘ne cessent de dire que je cherche à remplir la Moldavie peu à peu de François.’ Filitti, Lettres, 58–61.

37

He held the post from February 1747 to 23 November 1754, when he died in Constantinople. See AAE, Correspondance Politique, Turquie, vol. 127, ff. 433–434.

38

‘Les marchands y sont si méprisez, comme aussi tous ceux qui ne sont pas attachés à la principauté.’ Filitti, Lettres, 89.

39

‘Les boyards grecs regardent avec beaucoup de mépris les marchands qui se trouvent sur le pays, puisqu’ils les laissent devant eux sans les faire couvrir ni les faire asseoir.’ Filitti, Lettres, 59.

40

Iordache Stavarache was one of the most influential Greek office-holder who came to Moldavia in 1749 in the suite of Prince Constantin Mavrocordat; soon afterwards, he invited his brother Ianache and his father-in-law Manolache Geanet to join him. For a long time, the three of them managed to monopolize important administrative offices (spătar, kaymakam, capuchehaia), remaining from one prince to the next and amassing a substantial fortune together with the confidence of the princes and of the high office-holders. In 1765, Iordache fell into disgrace in the eyes of the sultan. He ended up being hanged and his entire fortune confiscated. Iorga, Documente Callimachi, I, 23–25.

41

This rivalry has been interpreted by Romanian historiography in ideological terms, acquiring either social or national significance. In fact the boyar groupings defined as ‘Greek’ or ‘native-born’ were made and unmade according to immediate interests. For details on the conflicts in the time of Constantin Racoviţă, see Mihai Mîrza, ‘Revolta boierilor moldoveni din vara anului 1750: Reconstituire factologică, ipoteze, semnificaţii’, in Cristian Ploscaru and Mihai-Bogdan Atanasiu (eds.), Elitele puterii, puterile elitelor în spaţiul românesc (secolele XV–XX), (Iaşi: 2018), 257–289.

42

Kogălniceanu, Letopiseţul, 70. The chronicler notes the conflict between the Frenchman and the Greek office-holders around the prince, introducing the presumption that he was the cause of the death of grand postelnic Lascarache Geanet: ‘It is said that he was poisoned and that the occasion was a Frenchman, namely Lință, who was in the service of the prince, because in many respects Lăscărache could not stand him, for he became very impudent and paid no attention to anyone’ (Ibid., 71).

43

‘La disgrâce du Sieur Linchou est produit par la jalousie de sa faveur et de ce qu’il est douanier du Prince, ce qui ôte une charge lucrative et principale à quelqu’un de la nation moldave, qui ne peut sans envie ni regret la voir remplir par un étranger.’ AAE, Correspondance Politique, Turquie, Suppl. 15, ff. 282, Des Alleurs to Broglio, 16 August 1753, Constantinople.

44

Documente Iaşi, V, 532–533, 538–540.

45

Filitti, Lettres, 173. The cămăraş was responsible for the salt mines, and belonged, administratively speaking, to the ‘prince’s household’. Fotino, Istoria, 309.

46

As we have seen in the previous chapter, his rival, Jean Mille, secretary to prince Grigore Ghica, married Safta Rosetti, the niece of the boyar Sandu Sturza. He thus could see before his eyes the success of this strategy.

47

For details regarding the boyar Sandu Sturza see Mihai-Bogdan Atanasiu, Din lumea cronicarului Ion Neculce. Studiu prosopografic (Iaşi: 2018), 498–507.

48

‘À mon départ de Moldavie, s’étant présenté un mariage de convenance, soit par l’avantage du bien, aussi bien que de la famille, en la personne nommée Kokone Ankocha Sturdge, parente de Son Altesse, je me suis fiancé avant mon départ de Moldavie.’ Filitti, Lettres, 169.

49

Grand ban (a title of Slavonic origin) was the highest office in the political hierarchy of Moldavia and Wallachia; the grand spătar (from Greek spathários) was the official responsible for handling the military affairs of the principality, while the kaymakam carried out the duties of interim ruler, handling administrative duties in the absence of the prince. See Fotino, Istoria, 265–266, 275–276.

50

Filitti, Lettres, 376.

51

According to Orthodox canon law, such an alliance is forbidden. See Îndreptarea legii (1652) (Bucharest: 1962), 179–180.

52

For the matrimonial strategies of French merchants in the Levant see Edhem Eldem, ‘The French Nation of Constantinople in the Eighteenth Century as Reflected in the Saints Peter and Paul Parish Records, 1740–1800’, in Patricia M.E. Lorcin and Todd Shepard (eds.), French Mediterraneans: Transnational and Imperial Histories (Lincoln, NE—London: 2016), 131–159.

53

Filitti, Lettres, 165–166. The understanding shown by Vergennes may be explained by the fact that he himself was in a similar relationship. Unable to marry Anne Testa, née Vivier, the widow of a Genoese doctor from Pera, he was to live in concubinage until 1768. Marriage would result in his being called back from his post. For more details see Orville T. Murphy Charles Gravier, Comte De Vergennes: French Diplomacy in the Age of Revolution, 1719–1787 (New York: 2009), 167–170.

54

From his letter to the ambassador, it emerges that he had invested a considerable sum of money in the wax business (19,000 piastres), which, with the return of Constantin Racoviţă to Moldavia, he hoped, somehow, to recover. See his letter of 27 March 1757. At this point, not only would he have lost out if Constantin Racoviţă had not regained his throne, but so would a number of other merchants and diplomats who had invested considerable sums in the wax trade. (Filitti, Lettres, 217).

55

On the Levant see Marie-Carmen Smyrnelis, Une société hors de soi: Identités et relations sociales à Smyrne aux XVIIIe et XIXe siècles (Paris: 2006); Oliver Jens Schmitt, Les Levantins. Cadres de vie et identities d’un groupe ethno-confessionnel de l’Empire Ottoman au ‘long’ 19e siècle (Istanbul: 2007).

56

‘Je présume donc que la Cour me fairont la grâce de ne point désapprouver un mariage qui m’est avantageux.’ Filitti, Lettres, 169–170.

57

‘Permettes-moi, Monseigneur, de vous représenter qu’il y a quelques différances entre moy et les autres François qui sont établis en Levant, attendu que je suis icy avec la connoissance et même l’approbation de la Cour; outre qu’on peut regarder ce pays comme une partie de la Chretienneté et exclue du Levant. D’ailleurs ma résidence icy est incertaine, et il se peut que je sois obligé d’y rester un très long temps.’ Filitti, Lettres, 169–170, 5 January 1757, Bucharest.

58

AAE, Correspondance Politique, Pologne, vol. 250, f. 529. ‘Les lettres de noblesse contribueront beaucoup à terminer mon mariage avec la cousine germaine du prince qui seroit très avantageux’, 19 December 1756.

59

AAE, Correspondance Politique, Pologne, vol. 250, ff. 528–529.

60

AAE, Correspondance Politique, Pologne, vol. 250, ff. 330–333, 1 July 1756, Linchou to Broglio.

61

Fariba Zarinebaf, Mediterranean Encounters. Trade and Pluralism in Early Modern Galata (Berkeley, CA: 2018), 202–204, 210–219. See also Mathieu Grenet, ‘Consuls et “nations” étrangères: état des lieux et perspectives de recherche’, Cahiers de la Méditerranées, 93 (2016), 25–35.

62

Zarinebaf, Mediterranean Encounters, 215.

63

Zarinebaf, Mediterranean Encounters, 142.

64

Filitti, Lettres, 193, François Linchou à Vergennes, Iassy, 19/30 August 1756.

65

AAE, Correspondance Politique, Pologne, vol. 250, ff. 528–529.

66

Filitti, Lettres, 91–93.

67

Mihai Mîrza, ‘Socotelile vistiernicului Toader Palade cu diecii de vistierie, după un catastif de la mijlocul secolului al XVIII-lea’, Ioan Neculce. Buletinul Muzeului de istorie a Moldovei, XVI–XVIII (2012), 126, 132.

68

See the portraits of the French consul and his wife by Antoine de Favray in the Pera Museum.

69

Filitti, Lettres, 100.

70

Another document, of 15 November 1753, speaks of ‘musiu Liţii’ who had vineyards in Iași, purchased when he was grand sluger. Caproşu, Documente, V, 502–503.

71

Caproşu, Documente, V, 532–533.

72

Despite searching a considerable number of Romanian archive fonds, I have been unable to find information about the Greek candlemaker Sterio. I have, however, found similar cases, which can provide information about how such litigation proceeded.

73

See Thomas Linchou’s exposition to Ambassador Vergennes, in which he summarizes the hearing that took place in Bucharest in the presence of the kadı of Giurgiu. As Sterio could not bring witnesses to testify to the presence of Pierre-François in Ruse, and the supposed receipt (‘billet’) was signed in Greek and not in French, Vizier Agassi (?) gave an ilam in favour of Pierre-François Linchou. Sterio was undeterred and set off for Istanbul. Filitti, Lettres, 161–162, Bucharest, 16/27 November 1755.

74

The use of the term: ‘raya ou zimmi’ bothered Vergennes who wrote to Thomas Linchou from Constantinople on 1 October 1755. Filitti, Lettres, 155.

75

Maurits H. van den Boogert, The Capitulations and the Ottoman Legal System: Qadis, Consuls and Beratlis in the 18th Century (Leiden: 2005).

76

‘Le chaoux est venu dans la maison de Linchou pour l’y prendre, ce qui est contraire aux capitulations, puisqu’on ne peut entrer dans la maison d’un François dans quelque endroit de la Turquie que ce soit.’ See Filitti, Lettres, 394–395. Thomas Linchou is here citing the article of the ahdaname of 1740 which stipulates that ‘any undue violence or oppression against French subjects would be punished’. See Zarinebaf, op. cit., 143.

77

Filitti, Lettres, 394–395.

78

Filitti, Lettres, 394–395.

79

Filitti, Lettres, 394–395.

80

According to the ferman issued by Sultan Mahmud I on 16 October 1746, litigation between Christians in Wallachia was to be judged by the local courts in the first instance; if the parties were not satisfied with the decision, they could appeal to the kadı of Giurgiu. This is confirmed in another document of 13/22 August 1760, when it was specified that cases would be judged in Bucharest in the presence of the kadı of Giurgiu and under the supervision of the prince of Wallachia. In Mustafa A. Mehmed (ed.), Documente turceşti privind istoria României, vol. I (1455–1774) (Bucharest: 1976), 258–259, 270–271.

81

Filitti, Lettres, 180. In his letter of reply, Vergennes assures Linchou of all his support, but advises him that: ‘tout François attaqué pour une dette vraye ou fausse qui excède 4000 aspres ne peut être tenu de se deffendre qu’au Divan de Constantinople’. He recommends that Linchou should not insist but should comply and come to defend himself before the situation becomes more serious. (Filitti, Lettres, 182–183).

82

‘On attend icy d’en voir la fin pour connaître le credit que nottre nation a auprès du gouvernement present.’ Filitti, Lettres, 185.

83

Filitti, Lettres, 408.

84

See Jean-Baptiste Linchou’s letter of 25 March 1757, in which he presents to Vergennnes the state of the family’s business and their debts to a number of French merchants who were demanding their money now that the family’s protector had withdrawn to Istanbul and the new prince was asking them to liquidate their business as quickly as possible and leave Moldavia. Filitti, Lettres, 214–216.

85

Filitti, Lettres, 440–442.

86

Van den Boogert, Capitulations, 21.

87

See the report of the Polish interpreter Francesco Giuliani sent from Constantinople to Count Heinrich von Brühl on 18 March 1760. Iorga, Documente Callimachi, II, 249. The death of the Frenchman Linchou was also noted by the British ambassador to the Porte, James Porter: ‘A Frank residing at Constantinople, who threw himself as a dependant on a deposed Vaywode, and who thought himself sufficiently protected, ventured to send a scheme to his correspondent in Moldavia for exciting that people to rebel against the Vaywode in possession, accompanying it with severe reflection on the Turkish government; he sent it by what he esteemed the securest conveyance. His letter, notwithstanding his precaution, was intercepted, and he lost his head near the Seraglio: no solicitations could save him’. James Porter, Observations on the Religion, Law, Government and Manners of the Turks (Dublin: 1768), vol. 1, 186.

88

AAE, Fond Correspondence Politique, Turquie, vol. 136, f. 68.

89

See ‘Relation du supplice de S. Linchou condamné comme traître et sediciuex par la Porte’, written by the first dragoman of the French Embassy, Deval, and attached to a letter of 17 March 1769. AAE, Fond Correspondence Politique, Turquie, vol. 136, f. 66–70; AN. Correspondance Consulaire. Constantinople, AE/B/I/437, ff. 9–10, 13–14.

90

On this topic see the memoir ‘Caractère des gens du pays, leur commerce’, AAE, Correspondence Politique, Turquie, Suppl. 15, ff. 105–107, 1751, Constantinople.

91

Comis Enache Kogălniceanu, witness and chronicler of the events, also places him in the Moldavian boyar class (‘he had entered the ranks of the boyars’), listing the offices he held, but also mentioning his trading in wax, justified by the need ‘to feed his three younger brothers’. Kogălniceanu, Letopiseţul, 105.

92

Iorga, Documente Callimachi, II, 410.

93

‘On a souffert que le Sieur Linchou se vouat au service d’un Prince Grec de Moldavie, eut serrail de femmes dans la capitale de la province, et déshonnorât enfin le nom français.’ Mihordea, Politica, 527.

94

Stephen J. Greenblatt, Renaissance Self-fashioning: From More to Shakespeare (Chicago: 1980), 2–9.

95

‘Il semble que l’habit donne les goûts, les manières, et souvent les mœurs de ceux qui les portent dès que les Turcs ne nous distinguent plus, ils ne sont pas fâchés de punir sur un Français travesti l’insolence apparente d’un Grec qui devant eux ose de méconnaître.’ Mihordea, Politica, 527. On his death in 1760, François-Thomas Linchou had a single son from a relationship with a woman from Istanbul. This natural son would inherit all his wealth. (Iorga, Documente Callimachi, II, 411, no. 30).

96

On 10 October 1762, Ambassador Vergennes wrote to the French ambassador in Poland, Antoine-René de Voyer, marquis de Paulny: ‘La mort du Sieur Linchou, nous est étrangère, celui-ci ayant pris le service d’un prince Grec et s’étant mal adroitement engagé dans des intrigues très criminelles il en a étè la triste victime.’ AAE, Correspondence Politique, Pologne, vol. 273, f. 632.

97

On 3 May 1760, Etienne-François de Choiseuil wrote to Vergennes: ‘Vous avez fait, Monsieur, tout ce qui pouvoit dépendre de vous pour sauver le Sieur Linchou, mais il faut convenir que le crime dont il a été accusé et dont il a en quelque sorte fait l’aveu au Sieur Deval meritoit le supplice auquel il a été condamné. Nous ne pouvons pas exiger que l’article 22 de nos capitulations avec la Porte, renouvelées les 28 mai 1740 soit applicables aux crimes de lése Majesté et de trahison en matière d’Etat.’ AAE, Correspondence Politique, Turquie, vol. 136, f. 98v.

98

BNF, Fond Roumain 6. Documents généalogiques et administratifs relatifs aux familles de Linche et Carpinişanu (1570–1855), f. 300.

99

Philippe was the son of Jean-Baptiste Linchou, who settled in Wallachia after the death of his brother, first as a teacher of foreign languages and then as secretary at the court of Alexandru Ipsilanti (1774–1782). The identity of his mother is uncertain. Jean-Alexandre Vaillant names a certain Maria Hodivoaianu, whom he believed was a freed slave of the great boyar Constantin Filipescu, in whose entourage the young Filip Lenş grew up (Jean-Alexandre Vaillant, La Roumanie, ou Histoire, langue, littérature, orographie, statistique des peuples de la langue d’or, Ardialiens, Vallaques et Moldaves, résumés sur le nom de Romans (Paris: 1844), vol. 2, 311.

100

In 1829, Filip Lenş was listed as born in Bucharest, aged 52, holding the title of postelnic, with a house on the Mogoșoaia Road, in the Yellow district, at number 376. See Ioan C. Filitti, Catagrafie oficială de toţi boierii Ţării Româneşti la 1829 (Bucharest: 1929), 17. The house exists to this day, under the address Calea Victoriei 133 and is managed by the Writers’ Union of Romania. Despite being one of the oldest and most beautiful mansions in Bucharest, it currently houses a casino.

101

The first part of this Linchou file, deposited in the Bibliothèque Nationale de France on 22 July 1929, by Alexandre de Linche de Moissac, gathers documents from the years 1570–1650 regarding the connections of the Linche family with Moissac. See BNF, Fond Roumain 6, ff. 1–47.

102

See Ian Coller, ‘East of Enlightenment: Regulating Cosmopolitanism between Istanbul and Paris in the Eighteenth Century’, Journal of World History 21/3 (2010), 447–70.

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Changing Subjects, Moving Objects

Status, Mobility, and Social Transformation in Southeastern Europe, 1700–1850

Series:  Balkan Studies Library, Volume: 31