Chapter 4 A Wallachian Dignitary at the Crossroads of Empires: Ianache Văcărescu

In: Changing Subjects, Moving Objects
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Constanţa Vintilă
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James Christian Brown
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In the winter of 1782, Ianache Văcărescu, Grand Vistier (treasurer) of Wallachia, set out on a secret mission to the imperial court of Vienna. The two sons of Prince Alexandru Ipsilanti (1774–1782) had run away from home in search of adventure in the wondrous realms of Europe. After the establishment of Phanariot rule in the Principalities, princes and boyars preferred to avoid crossing the border to the West, although no official interdiction limiting their freedom of movement was ever pronounced.1 In other words, the journeys of the political elite were directed for a century towards the Ottoman Empire. Braşov (German Kronstadt) and Sibiu (German Hermannstadt), in Habsburg Transylvania, were only temporary refuges in times of war, where boyar families might find a safe haven for a matter of months, or on occasion years, depending on the duration of the war and military occupation.

Map 2
Map 2

Travels of Ianache Văcărescu, cc. 1770–1796. Made by Michał Wasiucionek.

In this chapter I seek to show how Văcărescu,2 in his capacity as an office-holder in the prince’s administration, an Ottoman subject, and a diplomatic agent, mediating between Istanbul and Vienna, made use of the knowledge and abilities that he had accumulated in the course of his meetings and travels. What kind of cultural intermediary was Văcărescu?3 Fortunately for historians, he wrote about his diplomatic experiences, describing the journeys in which he was involved, and providing details about the people he met, in his History of the Most Puissant Ottoman Emperors, which long remained in manuscript.4 Although this purports to be a chronicle of the sultans and viziers who built the Ottoman Empire, in fact it proves, at least in its second part, to be an autobiographical journal. As a model, he had the history written by Dimitrie Cantemir, Historia incrementorum atque decrementorum Aulae Othomanicae (1716), which he used and quoted.5

The scholarship on southeastern Europe and the Ottoman Empire as seen through the prism of travel narratives is abundant, while other studies have investigated the journeys of Ottoman subjects in the direction of ‘Europe’.6 Văcărescu’s journal is all the more important in that so far it seems to be the only one of its kind from the Romanian Principalities. I would like to approach the text by way of its author and to analyse his interaction with the ‘others’: ‘Frenchmen,’ ‘Germans’, or ‘Europeans’, as he calls them. This investigation is particularly important given Văcărescu’s description of his encounters as a self-described ‘Turk’ with other ‘Europeans’. How does he see ‘Europe’, and what does he retain from his travels and interactions? In many respects, his account of a diplomatic mission to Vienna parallels that of Ottoman ambassadors’ experiences there, thus providing an important addition to the topic of such encounters.7 Other aspects of the mission refine our knowledge regarding the role of Ottoman Christian subjects and the way they interacted with the Sublime Porte.8 Therefore, the aim of the present chapter is to examine how Văcărescu employed the knowledge and manners acquired throughout his travels in both Ottoman and Habsburg empires to fashion his social status and to establish the connections necessary for career advancement.

Life and Family Background

Ianache Văcărescu (1740–1797) came from an old Wallachian boyar family whose existence is recorded already in the sixteenth century.9 His father, Ştefan Văcărescu, held an important office in the princely council, that of grand vornic.10 At the same time, Ştefan was a man with an interest in literary pursuits, and this was reflected in the education of his son. Education did not traditionally have much importance for political advancement: boyars had access to important offices in the princely council according to their rank and the clientelary networks to which they belonged. This changed, however, after the intervention of Prince Constantin Mavrocordat, who ordered that no boyar’s son could hold office unless he went to school and learned Greek.11 Ianache, who was a child at the time, began his education under the influence of this prince’s ‘Enlightenment’ ideas. Much has been written and countless hypotheses have been put forward regarding his education.12 I shall not go into detail here but merely recall an episode that was to contribute to his later writings. In 1763, Grand Vornic Ştefan Văcărescu was poisoned by Prince Constantin Cehan Racoviţă while at his country house in Valea Orlei, Prahova county.13 His son, Ianache, took refuge in Constantinople, seeking help lest he suffer the same fate. Through his marriage to Elena Rizo, Ianache had an important connection in the Ottoman Empire in the person of his father-in-law Iacovaki Rizo, an office-holder and the prince’s diplomatic representative (capuchehaia) at the Porte, who had important contacts in the world of the Phanar.14 According to his own account,15 his stay in Constantinople was a profitable one; for more than a year he studied Turkish in the company of the secretary of the imperial divan, Halil Hamid, who was to become vizier in 1783. The family archive, with its maps, books, treatises, grammars, and dictionaries testifies to Ianache’s linguistic ability. He had a good knowledge of Greek, Turkish, Italian, and German, and made use of these skills in his political and diplomatic ascent to become a key figure in negotiations between the Phanariot princes, the Sublime Porte, the Russian Empire, and the Habsburg Empire.16

Ianache Văcărescu married three times, his fathers-in-law being dragomans and princes, holders of important offices at the court of the sultan and the Patriarchate of Constantinople. Following the death of his first wife (Elena Rizo) in September 1780, Ianache married Elena Caragea, the daughter of Iordache Caragea, tercüman at the court of Constantinople, in December 1781. He was unlucky this time too, as Elena died seven months later; his third marriage, in September 1782, was to Ecaterina Caragea, the daughter of dragoman and prince of Wallachia Nicolae Caragea.17 He himself held high offices in the Wallachian state (grand spătar,18 grand vistier, grand ban19 ), all the time being a leading member of the princely council (divan).

Circulation of Objects, Circulation of People: Ottoman Coffee v. European Coffee

Around 1780, the boyar elite followed Ottoman fashion and etiquette: costume, behaviour, cuisine, and sociability were all strongly influenced by Constantinople. The predominance of the Ottoman model is confirmed by travellers who arrived in the Romanian capitals. Fashion, imposed by the political regime, proved to be an indispensable of expression of subjecthood in the context of Phanariot rule. At the same time, through its opulence and luxury, this Ottoman costume served a process of self-fashioning.20 Ianache Văcărescu helps us to understand this process of construction of the self, which may be reconstituted both through his writings of an autobiographical character and, visually, with the help of his portraits.21

Fig. 3
Fig. 3

Anton Chladek (1794–1882) – Ienăchiţă Văcărescu, 1852–1858, National Museum of Art, Bucharest.

Our information about the daily life of holders of high office at this time, about the organization of their mansions or their interior decoration and furniture, is relatively scanty, especially for the eighteenth century. Because of the wealth of detail regarding material culture and luxury consumption that it offers, the Văcărescu family archive and library have become an essential source for a reconstruction of the lifestyle of a high office-holder of this period.

Văcărescu’s mansion, situated in the vicinity of the princely court, was organized according to Ottoman models.22 His journeys, whether on diplomatic missions or simply seeking refuge in time of war, took him to Braşov, Vidin, Silistra (Silistre), Nikopol, Rhodes, Constantinople, and Vienna. People and objects would influence his lifestyle and behaviour, and would mould his thinking and his manners.23

The Russian–Ottoman War (1769–1774), in which he played a prominent part, took him first on a mission and then into exile in Braşov. Here he met for the first time the young sovereign Joseph II. The meeting brought together two different social and political models, and the behaviour of Văcărescu, a high office-holder now in exile, was adapted and modelled to take account of the new context. Here is what he writes:

In this year, 1773, May, the Emperor of the Romans Joseph II, wishing to go to Galicia and Lodomeria, to the lands that he had then obtained, crossing the borders of Transylvania came to Braşov, where he stayed for three days and did us Romanian boyars who were guests there great honour, for as soon as he arrived at the mansion prepared for him, he at once sent his Imperial Majesty’s doctor to us, where we were all gathered in my lodgings […], and invited us to come the next day at ten o’clock for him to give us an audience.24

The audience took place as announced, providing Ianache with a good occasion to showcase his abilities by providing ‘dragoman service to the boyars in the Italian language.’ Highly proficient in the language of diplomacy, Ianache Văcărescu pushed himself into the proximity of the Emperor, who invited him to accompany him to the ball held in honour of the Wallachian boyars taking refuge in Braşov: ‘Signor Văcărescu,’ said the emperor, ‘I invite you and put you to the trouble of doing me this evening the service of an interpreter.’ Ianache’s answer was one befitting an experienced diplomat: ‘Bowing, I replied to him that this was the happiest night I had encountered in the world since I was born.’ He continued: ‘and so, taking him by the left arm, I was in this service and honour until an hour after midnight, allowing no boyar or lady to go without asking some question.’25

His three days spent in the company of Emperor Joseph II, together with his several years of exile in Braşov (he would leave the city in September 1774) contributed to the remodelling of Ianache’s tastes and manners. On July 16, 1773, he compiled a list of purchases that reflects the influence of objects and the new lifestyle on his conduct. He asked for a series of items of tableware to be procured direct from Vienna, among them: soup bowls, metal trays, dishes, spoons, forks, knives, jugs, cups, sugar bowls, trays, plates, salt cellars, candlesticks, and candelabra, all of silver or porcelain. What gives this list its significance is not the quantities involved but the eye of our boyar, who has looked at length at the object, has been impressed, and now wishes to enrol in a trend, convinced of the validity and grandeur of the model to be followed. Nothing is left to chance, and ‘Europe’ becomes the keyword. The metal trays must be large, slightly oval, with handles ‘as is usual there in Europe.’26 Ianache had not yet been as far as ‘there in Europe,’ but only to Braşov, where he had often been invited to dine in the houses of local notables. The objects induce another manner of serving dinner, another perspective on sociability over coffee, another ceremony of the aesthetic exhibition of cuisine. We thus find very detailed requirements that imply certain gestures, bodily self-control, certain manners, and a different type of behaviour. For example, he asks that ‘the forks be with three prongs, that is, in the form of those of the English type.’ The salt is no longer to be poured on the table but contained in a silver salt cellar; the mustard gets a jug, and also a little spoon; the oil also has its jug, because ‘that is how the Europeans do it.’ It would appear that, up till this date, the fork was absent from the tables of boyars in Wallachia and Moldavia.27 Ottoman influence, which became permanent and dominant with the establishment of the Phanariot rule, led to the loss of this object of civility to which Norbert Elias attributed a special significance in the propagation of good manners.28

The same requirements are found with regard to the ritual of coffee-drinking. Ianache Văcărescu asked for ‘European cups and in no circumstances Turkish coffee-cups.’ They should be accompanied by ‘a “proportion” jug too for milk’ and a sugar bowl from which the sugar will no longer be taken with the fingers but ‘as the Europeans do with tongs, who take the sugar and put it in the cup.’29

To understand these changes, let us consider the way in which coffee was served in a boyar salon, as experienced by the German doctor Andreas Wolf, around 1784:

The master of the house claps his hands (this is a usual signal which replaces the bell used in our country), and, at once, the reception room is filled with servants. The housemaid, usually a Gypsy, brings on a silver tray a glass of fresh water, together with a pretty bowl, containing the so-called dulceaţă. This she hands over to the lady, who then serves each guest by hand. Because this is the first sign of the honours, regardless of the day or season, to refuse would signify a lack of good manners. The guest thus takes a good spoonful, and then drinks as much water after it as he desires. Meanwhile the coffee-bearer appears with his tray, on which sit the jug of coffee and the cups with their supports. The coffee is served unfiltered, and usually [prepared] without sugar, as I have seen among the Turks. The mistress of the house holds out in her hand a cup of coffee to each guest; in that moment the pipe-server approaches and offers to each in turn a pipe lit right then.30

Coffee was an important ingredient, part of a ritual of socialization practised both at the princely court and at the courts of the boyars. However, coffee was not offered alone: copying the Ottoman model, it was associated with dulceaţă (fruit conserve), sherbet, and the indispensable pipe.31 Ianache Văcărescu was moving towards the Viennese model, which transformed only the coffee, by adding milk and sugar, but not the ritual of socialization.32 For this ‘Viennese model’, he needed different objects: ‘European cups’, tongs, sugar bowls, and milk jugs, which he ordered insistently from his Viennese supplier.33 All this silverware was to be ‘suitable in weight, neither too heavy nor too light, but as is customary these days among the nobility in Europe.’ And it should fit inside a trunk ‘lined with fabric inside and [covered] with leather and bound with thick iron wire.’34

All of these objects were commissioned to perform the practices of sociability specific to Brașov. Prince Nicolae Brâncoveanu, also in exile, stated that social status had to be upheld everywhere and in all circumstances.35 While this imperative was complicated by their temporary residence in a foreign country, the consciousness of rank overrode any difficulties. In order to maintain his social prestige, on March 6, 1773 Văcărescu requested a loan of 8,000 florins from Chancellor Kaunitz, at the same time stressing his ‘humiliation’ at being forced to do so.36

In the end, Braşov proved to be the stage on which the actors of the two great empires met, interacting through dialogue and socialization, exchanging ideas and above all cultural values. Significantly, Văcărescu provided the emperor with information and with his vision of the Ottoman Empire and of the political situation in its peripheral regions. As a translator and interpreter, he mediated the differences between the two cultural environments.37

In shalwar and işlic to Vienna38

As was mentioned at the beginning of this study, the flight of the sons of the Wallachian Prince Alexandru Ipsilanti to ‘the lands of Europe’ triggered a diplomatic scandal.39 As Ottoman subjects, Constantin and Dimitrie could cross the border only if the sultan gave his accord, which was almost unthinkable given that their father held the position of prince of Wallachia.

Prince Ipsilanti went to considerable effort in the hope of bringing his sons home before the news reached Istanbul. An intense diplomatic correspondence took place with the court of Vienna,40 with a view to having the wayward sons extradited, while the young men’s tutor, Ignatius Stefan Raicevich, was sent on their trail.41 As for the runaways themselves, Constantin and Dimitrie Ipsilanti, aged nineteen and seventeen respectively, wrote to Friedrich von Preiss, chief of the imperial army in Transylvania, and to Emperor Joseph II that their flight had been hastened by ‘the bad treatment they suffered from their parents’, that their lives and those of all Christians were always insecure in Turkey, that they wanted to study in Vienna, the most enlightened place in Europe, and that they put themselves at the service of the Emperor, for whom they were prepared to lay down their lives.42 In an age in which travel was perceived as a means of education, especially in the case of young noblemen, the attitude of the Austrian authorities was somewhat encouraging. Neither General Preiss nor Chancellor Kaunitz nor even Emperor Joseph II seemed in any hurry to give orders for the young men to be sent back to Wallachia.43

Afraid that he might lose his head, Prince Ipsilanti sent a new mission to track down his sons, this time a much more impressive one, consisting of Metropolitan Grigorie of Wallachia, Bishop Filaret of Râmnic, Grand Ban Dumitrache Ghica, and Grand Spătar Ianache Văcărescu—almost half of the princely council—in the hope that they could ‘urge the enlightened young gentlemen to come back.’44 For the boyars of Wallachia, the Ipsilanti boys’ exploit could only be interpreted as ‘a criminal flight’ that ‘compromised their father forever’ and destroyed ‘the tranquillity and safety of our country’, as Văcărescu stated in his letter to General Preiss, asking the latter to stop the young men in Transylvania.45 We are thus faced with two different systems of thought: Joseph II and his diplomatic representatives speak of ‘individual will’ and personal liberty, and Văcărescu of ‘submission and fidelity towards the Porte’ and total obedience to their father.

The court of Vienna became the grand stage on which the Wallachian office-holder played the role of wealthy boyar, polyglot diplomat, and elegant gentleman.46 He attracted the gaze of those around because he was a ‘Turk’,47 or defined himself as such, and above all because he was a ‘foreigner’ of startling opulence.

Prince Kaunitz introduced him into the Viennese atmosphere:

He took me by the hand and went out into the assembly room, where were gathered all the ambassadors of the courts and the most brilliant ladies in Vienna. I made the acquaintance of them all and they greeted me with affection and with honour … Prince Kaunitz found the occasion to praise the sable furs in which I was dressed (for the Europeans habitually speak casually of these things, and to people they have met for the first time). And at that assembly the ladies undid my sash, to see my shawl.48

Everything gave off an air of extravagance: Lahore shawl, sable furs, diamond ring, silk anteri49 and brocaded fermene,50 hanjar inlaid with precious stones, and sahtiyan leather slippers. The Wallachian official on a diplomatic mission was the living image of what a ‘Turk’ ought to be. He quickly became the star attraction of the salons, enjoying the company of Prince Kaunitz, Grand Duke Paul of Russia, French ambassador Louis August Le Tonnelier de Breteuil,51 Vice-chancellor Philipp von Cobenzl, the Spanish ambassador, and Archduke Maximilian.52 The boyar entered into the logic of Viennese protocol, paying visits of courtesy and greeting: ‘I went to all the ambassadors to greet them with notes and when I returned to my lodgings to dine all the ambassadors came to me to greet me with notes.’53

Expensive furs were very important for the maintenance of prestige. Their very high price turned them into luxury objects, often forbidden under sumptuary laws, and at the same time important gifts in diplomatic relations.54 Prince Kaunitz insisted on knowing the price of the sable furs that decorated Ianache’s cüppe,55 and then asked him to offer advice on the pricing of some gifts: ‘He said to me: “Let me show you a sable fur that the Crown Prince of Russia gave me and I pray you tell me its price.” He brought the fur and put it on the billiard table.’ The situation was problematic, as that the Wallachian official wore furs much more expensive and more beautiful than those received by his Viennese host, so he saved himself by means of the rhetoric of diplomacy: ‘I answered him that neither by sunlight nor at night can sable furs be priced properly. This fur, however, taking into account the place from which it was given and the place to which it was given, is priceless. And I, even if I had seen it by day, do not have the skill to price it.’56

Văcărescu again becomes a ‘Turk’ when he enters the palace of Emperor Joseph II, which he describes in lavish details, impressed as he was by ‘the pavilion with marble pillars supported on the backs of lions,’ by ‘the curtains that hang from the baldachin worked with gold,’ by ‘the folded draperies with metallic thread,’ by the pearls decorating them, by the guards, the swords, the multitude of rooms, of cabinets, etc.57 It is a meeting of two different worlds: Joseph II, the adept of ceremony simplified as far as possible,58 and Văcărescu, the adept of Ottoman diplomatic protocol:

As I went in through the door, I saw the Kaiser in the middle of the room, on his feet and without a hat, and taking two steps forward I knelt down in the Turkish manner, and after putting my head on the ground, when I wanted to raise it, I found myself with the Kaiser’s hand on my head; he said to me that he did not require this ceremony and I should rise, and when I wanted to kiss his hand, he pulled it away.59

Ottoman protocol, as performed by Văcărescu, suddenly became insignificant and rather embarrassing when the Emperor withdrew the hand that was about to be kissed.60

In Wallachia, the boyars followed Ottoman protocol, kissing the prince’s hand and/or the hems of his robes as a form of respect and of recognition of hierarchies.61 Meanwhile, in 1787, Emperor Joseph II issued an imperial decree forbidden kneeling, considering that it was ‘not a fitting form of behaviour from one human being to another and should be reserved for God alone.’62 Prostration, kneeling and kissing of hands and feet were part of a cultural code put into practice in the Ottoman Empire and respected strictly on its peripheries, at the borders between rival empires.63

The audience lasted more than two hours. Joseph II argued the case for individual free will, imperial hospitality, and political asylum for young men who wanted to study and to travel freely, stressing that the young princes might be advised to return home but under no circumstances forced to do so.64 The Wallachian office-holder, an Ottoman subject, asked for no more and no less than their expulsion by force, emphasizing that his whole career depended on the success of this diplomatic mission:

Besides the effort that to my great honour and praise I have made to come, I will lose what little reputation and standing (ypolipsis) I have in all the principality of Wallachia, where to the sorrow I feel on account of these happenings is added that of being incapable of carrying [my mission] to a conclusion and being unable to obtain justice even from the very justice itself that you are, your Imperial Majesty.65

Impressed by the rhetoric of the Wallachian boyar, but also as a consequence of the information with which he had been provided66 —he is known to have had a ‘mania for gathering detailed information about all manner of social phenomena’67 —Emperor Joseph II promised that he would not receive the young Ipsilanti princes into his service: ‘I promise you upon my imperial word that neither in my lands nor in my service will I keep them, and I will certainly return them to Turkey, only that I must first bring them here, to ensure that they have a pleasant stay, without worries.’68 In other words, the good manners specific to diplomatic ceremonial must be respected to the end, and the right to hospitality remains a principle that cannot be stepped over.

Being a Boyar: Luxury, Civility, and Prestige

Travelling across empires, entering into contact with different forms of civilization, dealing skilfully with languages and people, Ianache Văcărescu is a key figure for the understanding of peripheries. Wallachia and Moldavia were ‘contact zones’, to borrow the term used by Mary Louise Pratt, where, for more than a century, three great empires, Ottoman, Habsburg, and Russian, had met.69 The meetings between the three cultures are reflected in personal memoirs, which try to define identity and alterity in relation to the other.70 The local elite is the bearer of this ‘cultural mix’. Although common features often unite the narrators and their characters, these seem to get lost when the test of civility is set out as an inexorable criterion. In many cases, the writers of travel narratives do not understand the way of being of these boyars, even if it fascinates or intrigues them, and thus they categorize them as ‘barbarian’. Even those who have spent many years among them, occupying official positions, are repelled and criticize certain customs or behaviours, which are always entered in the balance of alterity. Consuls, ambassadors, diplomats, missionaries, or simple travellers are the guests of the courts and mansions of the boyars, which they then describe in their eager quest for turqueries.71 Good manners as a form of social distinction and self-fashioning were very much in vogue in central and northern Europe. For the Wallachian boyars, the model of good behaviour was inspired by the manners and conduct displayed by the princes at court. These were adapted according to the context and the guests: ‘Greek’, ‘Turkish’, and ‘Ottoman’ in the company of Ottoman envoys and Wallachian office-holders, ‘French’ in the company of ‘western travellers.’

In his book devoted to the Ottoman Empire, Ianache Văcărescu often uses the term ypolipsis (and never politíe), to describe the behaviour of others and to speak about himself. His readings were diverse and in various languages,72 but when it came to good manners, and above all conduct, although he had read Il giovane istruito,73 he preferred the Greek word ypolipsis (ὑπόληψις). The significance of the term ypolipsis was connected to the place one occupied in society, to the social classifications made by others, to the way one was seen by others, and to a certain status displayed and promoted. For Văcărescu, ypolipsis represented a public recognition of his learning and wisdom. The individual with ypolipsis is the one who shows himself, by his accumulation of knowledge and learning, to have wisdom. True learning is that which brings wisdom, and together they lead to respect, prestige, and fame. Prestige is recognized by measures capable of ensuring ‘the well-being of all.’74 This ypolipsis may be quickly lost if the individual does not strive always to retain people’s respect. This is what he is speaking of when he seeks the help of Emperor Joseph II to recover the sons of Prince Ipsilanti, and the term is clothed in the same sense when he uses it to characterize others. Consider what he says about Alexandru Mavrocordat, Dragoman of the Porte, whom he describes as ‘a man of a subtle and lively spirit’, with immortal ypolipsis, obtained by virtue of ‘noteworthy service to the Empire’,75 or Selim Pasha, muhafíz of Nikopol, who is ‘learned and wise’.76 Ianache Văcărescu presents himself as the foremost boyar of Wallachia, a man of great ypolipsis, worthy to be ruler of the principality.77 Those around him, ‘Greeks’ or ‘Turks’ like himself, describe him in the same terms. ‘You have heard of the wealthy Vakarescolo, the Croesus of Boyars,’ says Iordache Condilo admiringly,78 while Prince Alexandru Moruzi, elevating Văcărescu to the office of grand ban, recognizes him as ‘the foremost noble boyar […] capable and with good ypolipsis.’ Moruzi held this opinion despite having every reason to hate the ‘worthy’ and ‘faithful’ boyar, given the rumours that Văcărescu was Princess Zoe Moruzi’s lover: the prince heard the populace singing daily under his window of their illicit and ‘fiery passion’.79

The high office-holder Ianache Văcărescu gave particular attention to the body that was seen, to appearances, and to the education of the mind. At a certain point in his memoirs, he wonders which it is better to have, ‘a jar of good fortune or a drop of intelligence,’ and he answers: ‘A splash of intelligence I want, rather than good fortune.’80 And so he would be all his life, educating his mind with diverse reading and writing and taking care of his body. Nevertheless, the education of the mind and the care of the body did not turn him into a giovane istruito such as the ambassadors, princes, and chancellors—in a word, the ‘Europeans’—considered themselves to be. Consider the following eye-witness account by the Swiss Franz Joseph Sulzer, one of the secretaries of Prince Alexandru Ipsilanti and an Austrian agent in Wallachia, who knew the elite at the princely court at close quarters. Invited to a ball held there in 1778, he describes the atmosphere as follows:

At the table of the Prince of Wallachia, the Grand Ban Dudescu wanted to honour the name day of the Prince, which was celebrated then, with an unusual toast. Perhaps he had drunk too much. He stood up as the foremost boyar in the land, according to custom, together with the Metropolitan, and the whole table stood up after them; he uttered his toast, tasted a little from the great toasting cup, and poured the rest of the cup in the face of the Grand Vornic Filipescu, so that the wine flowed over his beard and over his fur, down to the ground.81

For Sulzer, with his Jesuit education and experience of the discipline of an Austrian infantry regiment, the toast is nothing but ‘the playful fancy of a drunkard’.82 The unusual toast was, however, a local custom, which is also recorded elsewhere. For example, in the collection Îndreptări moraliceşti tinerilor foarte folositoare (Moral guidelines very useful to the young), Dimitrie Ţichindeal notes and condemns such behaviour: ‘abandon the foolish and vulgar custom that some observe towards their friends and their beloved wife, that the wine that they cannot drink from the glass they pour on the clothes of those who cannot drink it. This is great foolishness and vulgarity.’83 At another ball, also at the princely court, Sulzer is scandalized by the sight of elegant ladies eating with their fingers from a common dish, eagerly devouring the food ‘without forks’.84 Nor does he have a better opinion about our Văcărescu: among the exiles in Braşov in 1774, he witnessed a truly revolting scene: ‘At the official ball of the commandant of Braşov, the grand vistier [i.e. Ianache Văcărescu] got so drunk that he threw up in the ballroom all that he had consumed.’85 Sulzer notes the excesses of this boyar class, whom he does not like much and among whom he did not manage to integrate himself, although he spent more than eleven years in Wallachia.

All the same, it must be observed that the term ypolipsis does not completely correspond to the term politíe (civility) as it was expressed in Romanian at the time.86 Civility includes a ‘code of refined manners, the practices of polite behaviour’.87 From Erasmus onwards, via Antoine de Courtin, Jean-Batiste La Salle, and Louis-Marin Henriquez, practices were constructed that regulated the behaviour of the individual in society: ‘legitimate behaviours’ necessary for common life and the promotion of decency. All these treatises were directed principally at the education of children, and their use in schools was recommended, as civility was incorporated among the Christian virtues.88 A ‘virtue of society’, civility has the role of making connections between people pleasant.89 Politíe (civility) and ypolipsis are expressed by the same references to honour, prestige, and respect but without covering exactly the same meaning. Ianache Văcărescu was mainly interested in social distinction, inscribing himself in a logic of prestige, by working on appearances.90 Vestimentary opulence and ‘subtle spirit’ (brilliant and educated intelligence) provided him with the respect and self-esteem that were indispensable for dominating the political stage.

Far from Vienna: Working on an ‘Ottoman History’

While waiting for his sons, who had gone off to discover Europe, Alexandru Ipsilanti resigned his mandate for fear of losing his head. As the boys did not stop in Vienna, instead making a short trip through Italy before embarking for Constantinople, there was nothing their father could do but pay the massive debts they had left behind them.91

As for Ianache Văcărescu, he remained faithful to the Ottoman Empire but not to the new prince, Nicolae Mavrogheni (1786–1790). Mavrogheni’s appointment to the Wallachian throne constituted for Văcărescu an opportunity to express his admiration for the Phanariot network and his allegiance to it: ‘[Mavrogheni] was not a man who had grown up in the Phanar, so that he would have known the rules of the Phanar, or those of the Sublime Porte.’ Moreover, a good candidate for the Wallachian throne should be familiar with the ‘custom of the land’ and possess the linguistic skills necessary for interacting with multiple centres of power. Mavrogheni, however, was ignorant of the customs, ‘he spoke neither Greek nor Turkish,’ and ‘was even unable to master Romanian throughout his life.’92 Hence, Văcărescu despised him for his lack of education and for the fact that he did not belong to the Phanariot elite, being a mere ship’s captain—in other words, ‘a man foolish in his behaviour, his thinking, and his feelings.’93

Văcărescu was not alone, however, in expressing dissatisfaction with Mavrogheni. Other boyars could identify with his bitter criticism of the Phanariot prince. In fact, the boyars’ contempt for the Phanariots appears in all its splendour during the reign of Nicolae Mavrogheni. They deserted him one by one. Michael Merkelius, the Austrian envoy to Bucharest, describes in one of his reports to Chancellor Kaunitz the arrest of the grand ban Pană Filipescu, who was lifted from his home in the middle of the night on 22 January 1788, taken in a carriage guarded by six Arnauts as far as the Danube, and there handed over to the Turks. The boyars had interceded, asking that the ban be forgiven, as he was far too old to endure the cold and the rigours of exile, but Mavrogheni would not be moved and refused to pardon the ‘ugly’ words that Filipescu had uttered about the Phanariots.94 Before long, other boyars too shared the grand ban’s fate, and were sent into a sort of forced exile, at Nikopol (Ottoman Niğbolu) and then on Rhodes. Among them were Nicolae and Emanuel Brâncoveanu, Scarlat and Costache Ghica, Ianache Moruzi, Dumitrașco Racoviță, and Manolache Crețulescu.95 Ianache Văcărescu refused to follow Mavrogheni and his strategies in the war of 1787–1790, and ended up going into exile in Nikopol.96 It was there, in 1788, that he began work on what would become his History of the Most Puissant Ottoman Emperors.

In writing his Ottoman History, Ianache Văcărescu placed himself on the side of the empire that had helped him in his social ascent. As was mentioned at the beginning of this chapter, Ianache firmly believed that the Ottoman Empire had the economic and political resources to survive. Without offering a comprehensive analysis of the work, as this has already been ably done by others,97 I shall use the autobiographical information it offers to situate Ianache Văcărescu in the regional political context of the second half of the eighteenth century. By analysing the personal and professional network into which Ianache Văcărescu introduced himself, we may understand the interpretation he offers of his status and duties within the Phanariot—and implicitly Ottoman—administrative system.

Ianache takes advantage of the opportunities provide by regional conflicts to highlight his qualities and to offer his services. His self-promotion can be traced through each of the actions described in his history. As noted in the previous chapter, Ianache Văcărescu made use of the gathering of the boyars to approve the intervention of Russia in Wallachia in 1769 as a pretext for his flight to Brașov:

I proceeded through the foothills of Buzău with letters to the boyars, commanding them to come to Bucharest. And going through the foothills of Săcuiani I arrived at Cerași, where I took my wife and my mother and a child that I had and crossed into Transylvania, to Brașov, by the Buzău lazaretto, together with as many boyars as were there; and immediately I informed my father-in-law, Iacovache, who was with the Turkish army at Babadagî.98

Both he and the Brâncoveanus wrote to Chancellor Kaunitz, asking for a loan of money but also in order to introduce themselves. Summoned by the grand vizier and advised by his father-in-law, Iacovaki Rizo, Văcărescu returned in 1772 from Brașov to Craiova, where both the prince appointed and recognized by the Turks (Emanoil Giani Ruset) and the grand vizier were, in order to put himself at the service of the Porte. In his letter to Kaunitz, Văcărescu includes information about the network of which he was a part, mentioning his participation in the peace negotiations at Focșani, summoned by Osman Efendi and the grand vizier, Muhsinzade Mehmet Pasha, but also the fact that he had met the grand vizier, who praised him for his conduct.99 However, in order to reach Focșani, Ianache Văcărescu needed a passport, since, coming from the Habsburg Empire as an Ottoman subject, he had to pass through an area occupied by the Russian army. Văcărescu writes that Osman Efendi, being desirous—he uses the Hellenism periergos (περίεργος)—of knowing and finding out information from different sources, invited him to Focșani, asking the Austrian envoy Johann Amadeus von Thugut to obtain a passport for him so that he could travel.100 In addition to the representatives of the two empires, Osman Efendi and Aleksei Mikhailovich Obreskov, representatives of the great powers with an interest in developments in the region had also come to Focșani.101 According to Văcărescu, Internuncio Thugut should have requested his passport from the Russian representative in the Principalities, Pyotr Rumyantsev; however, whether for the sake of convenience or for some other unknown reason, he had obtained a passport from the military commandant of Transylvania, with the following notification: ‘This boyar of the Ottoman Empire, who is going to Focșani, under imperial protection, being summoned as an envoy to the congress, is to pass in peace.’102 I referred in the previous chapter to the passport issued by the imperial representatives for Emanuel Brâncoveanu, signed apparently by Empress Maria Theresa herself, and the failure of the document to have any effect in the Russian camp. Much the same happened in Ianache Văcărescu’s case. He quickly realized that ‘this passport was not sufficient,’ and hoped that Thugut had also written to Field Marshal Rumyantsev about his arrival. His hopes proved in vain: on his arrival at Focșani, ‘close to the congress,’ Văcărescu was stopped by the Russian army because he ‘did not have the field marshal’s passport,’ and was left in the open, ‘under the sun,’ to wait for eighteen days.103 He writes that his protector, Osman Efendi, was very upset, ‘going into a rage’ and forcing Thugut to do what he should have done from the start. Indeed, Osman Efendi was well-known for his violent outbursts and strange behaviour.104 While he waited for the situation to be resolved, Văcărescu wrote directly to Rumyantsev, masterfully drawing attention to the different layers of his identity: an Ottoman subject, under temporary Habsburg protection, a prisoner, in time of armistice, of the Russians, solely because ‘he had kept as was his duty his faithfulness to the masters that God had ordained for him.’105 We do not know whether it was this letter or the intervention of Internuncio Thugut that contributed to the resolution of the situation. What is certain is that three days later, Văcărescu was allowed to move on and was received with ‘liubov’ (love) by Osman Efendi.106 When the negotiations broke down and Osman Efendi withdrew to Shumen, Văcărescu followed his patron. At Shumen, he had occasion to renew acquaintance with the grand vizier, who received him ‘very well’, thus providing him with an occasion to present the grievances of the boyars in Brașov, and also to be charged with ‘certain services for the Porte’ in Wallachia. Armed with ‘an imperial ferman to all the viziers beyond the shores of the Danube,’ Văcărescu travelled in safety along the Shumen–Ruse–Nikopol–Vidin–Mehadia–Brașov route.107 We do not know what mission he had received from the grand vizier, but we do know the Ottoman network that supported him and that he cultivated assiduously, both through his parents-in-law and in person. He did not get to the peace negotiations in Bucharest, but he narrates the events, introducing Sultan Abdülhamid (who succeeded to the throne following the death of the ‘wise’ Mustafa III), Ahmed Resmi ‘who had all power with the emperor’, Melek Mehmet Pasha, Sahib Giray, Devlet Giray, and all the Russian actors in the war.108 The appointment of a new prince of Wallachia proved another opportunity to promote himself and enter further into the network.109 From Brașov, Văcărescu did not return to Bucharest together with the other boyars, as he had been instructed to do by ‘imperial command’,110 but headed to Silistra, in order to join the princely suite: ‘As I went through the country, I passed by Silistra, where I found Seit Hasan Pasha Stanchioiulâul serascher [Rusçuklu Hasan Paşa], a vizier full of goodness and a lover of good deeds, and he received me with much love and gave me five mektups (official letters): to the vizier, to the kahya bey, to the reis efendi, to the yazıcı efendi, and to the prince of Wallachia.111

With the five official letters, Ianache Văcărescu, for the third time, as he writes, took the road to ‘Tsarigrad’. He was making this journey because he wanted to return to Bucharest not as an ordinary boyar who had hidden for fear of the war in the citadel of Brașov, but as one whose merits had to be recognized and rewarded. His return in the suite of the new prince was the best strategy. In Istanbul, he was received with goodwill—he uses the Hellenism evmenie (εὐμένεια)—by the grand vizier, the reisülküttab, and others who had recognized his merits, who offered him ‘a ferman showing his faithful services to the Porte,’ and with permission (musaadea) he returned in the suite of Prince Alexandru Ipsilanti who appointed him to the office of grand vistier.112

From this moment on, Văcărescu’s career and prestige knew no bounds. Even if the Ottoman Empire had lost the war, his network had won the game. His rivals, the Cantacuzinos, had taken refuge in Russia, leaving the field open, while the Brâncoveanus, returned from exile, needed time to remake their alliances. When Nicolae Caragea became prince (1782–1783), Văcărescu received the office of grand spătar and married the prince’s youngest daughter.113 Under Prince Mihai Suţu (1783–1786), he took up again the office of grand vistier, and played his part in preparations for the war that threatened on the imperial frontiers.114 Not even the appointment of Nicolae Mavrogheni shook his position as a powerful and influential boyar with extensive connections in the Ottoman Empire. On the contrary, while Mavrogheni kept him in office and consulted him regarding various political issues and the path to follow in the new Russian–Austrian–Turkish war that had broken out in the region, Văcărescu had such contempt for the prince that he requested his recall to Istanbul.115

Mavrogheni did not count for much in the eyes of the other Phanariot families either. They did not consider him one of themselves, referring him to as ‘the peasant from the archipelago’ and doing all they could to prevent his appointment to the Wallachian throne. ‘All the great Greek families, despite the hatred that always divides them, have united to prevent a peasant from the archipelago from taking from them a position that they regard as their birthright and have clubbed together to convince the whole Divan of Mavrogheni’s incapability,’ wrote French ambassador Choiseul in his report to Vergennes of 27 January 1786.116 Ianache Văcărescu was the new prince’s confidential advisor for a time, but he distanced himself and criticized him severely for his desire to become ‘seraskier’. To achieve this ambition, Mavrogheni devised ‘crazy’ plans. I shall present only one of the episodes narrated by Ianache Văcărescu, still a closer adviser in his capacity as grand vistier:

I myself have seen him write a takrir [report] to the Porte declaring not only that the Germans have no alliance with the Russians, but he said that they are also enemies. He himself showed me this takrir when he was writing it. I asked him, ‘And what enmity to they have?’ He answered that the Germans do not want to give the title of empress to the empress of Russia. What a ridiculous answer, readers!117

The exiling of boyars, or of members of boyar families (wife, son, father) was one of the methods used to extort ‘ransom’ money, if they wished to return to Wallachia.118 Following the prince’s refusal to let him go to Istanbul, where the family of his wife, Ecaterina Caragea, were, Văcărescu chose to join the exiled boyars in Nikopol. The protection he requested from the Ottoman Empire gradually turned into captivity, as the situation in Wallachia developed and relations between Mavrogheni and his boyars deteriorated.119

The life of an exile always depends on political circumstances, but above all on social and political connections with the local authorities. In the previous chapter, I presented the experience of the Brâncoveanus in the world of Transylvania, their dependence on a patron and their struggle for survival in everyday life. Văcărescu describes in his History another aspect of exile: the boyars exiled in the Ottoman empire were refugees because of the war, but they were also hostages, used as a sort of currency of exchange both by Mavrogheni and by the vizier. The fate of the refugees depended on the outcome of the war. At first everything looked relatively good, and Văcărescu used his personal contacts to ensure his safety. At Nikopol he had friendly relations with the local notable Selim Pasha, who, ‘holding him in great affection’ and being a ‘learned’ man, ensured his and the other boyars’ access to the necessities of life. When Selim Pasha was sent to Bender, however, the refugees found themselves transformed into hostages: ‘We were shut in, for we were not free to go anywhere, and lacking in what was necessary,’ writes Văcărescu. He observes how the status of the hostages changed during their period of captivity according to the personal relations they had with the Ottoman authorities. The status of hostage was displeasing to him, especially as he had in all circumstances behaved as a good and faithful Ottoman subject, with ‘merits at the Devlet’ and faithful service proven by ‘fermans and many orders to demonstrate.’120

Making use of his connections and his linguistic and rhetorical abilities, Văcărescu drafted an arz (petition) to the sultan on behalf of the boyars in which he magnified his faithful services to the Porte and requested easier conditions of exile in Edirne. He listed his rights as an Ottoman subject, using diplomatic language and invoking international treaties, and enumerated his faithful service to the Empire, and implicitly to the sultan. When Mavrogheni found out about the boyars’ arz, he accused them of conspiracy and succeeded in having them sent to Rhodes.121 Their salvation was determined by an unexpected event: the death of Sultan Abdülhamid I. Văcărescu thus experienced exile in a number of Ottoman centres: Nikopol, Târnovo, Edirne, and Rhodes. Other boyars were detained at Meteora, Mount Athos, Vidin, Silistra, or other regional centres of the Empire. Their conditions of captivity varied: some were sold as slaves and had to spend vast sums of money to regain their freedom; others were held hostage only for the duration of the war and released with the signing of the peace treaty.122

In response to numerous requests from opponents of Mavrogheni, Abdülhamid’s successor, Sultan Selim III, ensured the release of the boyars:

The most merciful emperor, taking cognizance of our condition and that we are on Rhodes and our families in Târnovo, gave command to the most elevated Mustar Pasha, the kaymakam,123 to write to the army, to the vizier, to make us an itlak [order of release] without fail.

The Filipescu boyars, who had been banished for two years to Meteora, were also released by an itlak.124 It was in February 1790 that the Wallachian boyars received their itlak and set out for Târnovo, where their families were, before settling for a time at Edirne.125 Material lack, daily fear, and the unfavourable surroundings had had a negative effect on the families, and the weaker among them had not survived. ‘We had come from Rhodes to Arvanitochori,126 by Târnovo,127 and we had found our families in a poor state, especially I myself, who of four children whom I had left with my lady wife when I went to Rhodes, found only one,’ writes Văcărescu.128

There was pain at the loss of dear ones in all the families of those banished, but there was little time for mourning: no sooner had Văcărescu arrived in Edirne than he was summoned by an emirname of the grand vizier Hasan Pasha to be of service to the Porte: ‘So at once leaving my wife and a small child that I had at Odriiu (Edirne), taking my eldest son I left with the menzil [courier] and went to Ruse.’129 Along with Văcărescu, by Sultan Selim III’s ferman, another eight boyars were summoned ‘for certain questions and answers.’130

At Rusçuk (Ruse), in the tent of the grand vizier Hasan Pasha and surrounded by kahya Feyzulla Efendi, defterdar Raik Ali Efendi, and reisülküttab Berrî Abdullah Efendi, Văcărescu decided Mavrogheni’s fate: ‘These three ministers arrived and the vizier told them to sit down; he commanded me also to sit down and told me to say before these ricals what I had said to his Excellency. And I told them again.’

He told them of the irreconcilable difference between the boyars and the prince, of the exodus of part of the population across the Danube for fear of the prince’s extortions, of the forced ‘kaftan-granting’ [elevation to boyar rank] of peasants for money, and much more.131 Hasan Pasha made use of these accusations, set down on paper by Văcărescu and sent to the sultan, to call for the elimination of Mavrogheni.132 When the latter’s head fell, Văcărescu returned to centre stage:

And the vizier summoned me and sent me to the leylek çadırı133 with his highness’s caftangiu134 to see his head. And when I returned, he commanded me to write to Bucharest to the boyars a letter saying that at His Excellency’s command and to show them the justice of the most puissant emperor, having found out about the deeds of Mavrogheni that he had done in Wallachia, he had given him his reward. And according to the command I immediately informed them, and they all rejoiced.135

Ianache Văcărescu behaved like a high Ottoman official, even if he was without portfolio. The Ottoman office-bearers, from the vizier to pashas and ayans, treated him as such, outlining his duties136 and rewarding him for carrying them out with the orders of recognition of merit (émr-namés and mehtups), and with praise, protection, and affection. In the winter of 1791–1792, when he withdrew to Edirne to spend time with his family, he wrote:

I passed the winter in great honour for I was much loved also by Mola Efendi137 and by the bostancıbaşı,138 by the janissary agha,139 and by the kaymakam pasha himself, Izzet Mehmed Pasha, who had come to Edirne and with whom I dined most evenings.140

The removal of Hasan Pasha from the office of vizier did not affect Văcărescu, as he had managed to make himself indispensable through his knowledge about the region, his connections in Wallachia, the prestige he enjoyed among the boyars, and above all the efficiency with which he managed to carry out the duties assigned to him in wartime. The new vizier, Koca Yusuf Pasha entrusted him with various missions in Wallachia, aimed at supporting the Ottoman army: building bridges over rivers and ensuring provisions.141

Văcărescu succeeded in building very strong regional connections, binding himself in clientelary relations with the ayans along the Danube.142 His matrimonial alliances helped him to establish important connections in various power centres, but the maintenance of these was also very much due to his linguistic and diplomatic abilities. He made use of all sorts of situations to interact with others, presenting himself in a natural manner, regardless of the setting or the interlocutor, be it Emperor Joseph II, Grand Vizier Hasan Pasha, or Field Marshal Pyotr Rumyantsev. For Văcărescu, the intensity of a relationship was expressed through the emotions it generated: Osman Efendi was a close acquaintance who received him every time with affection (liubov); things stood similarly in his relations with Seyyid Hasan Pasha, who protected him with ‘much love’ (multă dragoste): in Istanbul, however, he was received only with goodwill (evmenie, musaadea). At Adrianople he was very much loved, while the grand vizier Usuf Pasha treated him with great honour.

*

Văcărescu’s memoirs contain important information about the role of mediator that he assumed in various social, political, religious, and linguistic contexts.143 In writing about and serving the Ottoman Empire,144 he was one of those intermediaries who participated in the production and dissemination of a literature about the Ottomans in Europe. The knowledge he accumulated came from his interactions with scholars from the three empires on the borders of Wallachia. His manuscript (together with numerous reports) responded to an already existing curiosity about all that came out of the Ottoman Empire. At the same time, Văcărescu modelled his education and career according to the requirements of the Ottoman imperial system, adopting ‘the service and culture of the Phanariots.’145 In its turn, the Phanariot elite integrated him into its own networks by means of matrimonial alliances and employed him for numerous diplomatic and political missions.

1

Regarding the right to circulate freely and the memoranda drafted by the boyars on this matter, see Vlad Georgescu, Istoria ideilor politice româneşti (1369–1878) (Munich: 1987), 215.

2

Also known by the diminutive ‘Ienăchiță’ in Romanian historiography.

3

Recent contributions have demonstrated the role of diplomatic agents, interpreters, dragomans, and other ‘brokers’ in mediating contacts between the Ottoman domains and western Europe in the early modern period, see David Do Paço, ‘A Social History of Trans-Imperial Diplomacy in a Crisis Context: Herbert von Rathkeal’s Circles of Belonging in Pera, 1779–1802’, International History Review 40, 5 (2018), 3–22; David Do Paço, ‘Trans-Imperial Familiarity: Ottoman Ambassadors in Eighteenth-century Vienna’, in Tracey A. Sowerby and Jan Hennings (eds.), Practices of Diplomacy in the Early Modern World, c. 1410–1800 (London: 2017), 166–184; Natalie Rothman, Brokering Empire: Trans-Imperial Subjects between Venice and Istanbul (Ithaca, NY: 2012); Francesca Trivellato, The Familiarity of Strangers: the Sephardic Diaspora, Livorno, and Cross-Culture Trade in the Early Modern Period (New Haven, CT: 2009).

4

The full title of the history is: Istorie a prea puternicilor împăraţi otomani. Adunată şi alcătuită pă scurt de dumnealui Ianache Văcărescu dicheofilaz a bisericii cei mari a Răsăritului şi spătar al Valahiei. Începându-se în vremea prea puternicului împărat sultan Abdul Hamid I la văleatul bijretu 1202 şi mântuiroriu 1788 în Nicopoli a Bulgariei. Şi s-a săvîrşit în zilele prea puternicului împărat sultan Selim III la văleat 1794 şi 1208 în luna lui Şeval (History of the most puissant Ottoman emperors, gathered and put together in brief by his lordship Ianache Văcărescu, dikaiophylax of the great Church of the East and spătar of Wallachia. Begun in the time of the most puissant emperor Sultan Abdul Hamid I, the Year of the Hijra 1202 and of the Saviour 1788, in Nikopol in Bulgaria. And it was finished in the days of the most puissant emperor Sultan Selim III in the year 1794 and 1208 in the month of Shawwal). For this study, I have used the most recent critical edition of the works of Ianache Văcărescu. See Ianache Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, ed. Gabriel Ştrempel (Bucharest: 2001).

5

Dimitrie Cantemir’s work was first printed in English translation as History of the Growth and Decay of the Othman Empire […] by Demetrius Cantemir, late Prince of Moldavia (London: 1734), then in French, Histoire de l’Empire Othoman où se voyent les causes de son Aggrandissement et de sa Decadence par S.A.A. Demetrius Cantemir, Prince de Moldavie (Paris: 1743) and German, Geschichte des osmanischen Reiches nach seinem Anwachsen und Abnehmen, beschrieben von Demetrie Kantemir (Hamburg: 1745). For Dimitrie Cantemir, see Ştefan Lemny, Les Cantemir: l’aventure européenne d’une famille princière au XVIIIe siècle (Paris: 2009).

6

Wendy Bracewell and Alex Drace-Francis (ed.), Under Eastern Eyes: A Comparative Introduction to East European Travel Writing on Europe, ed. (Budapest: 2008). Fatma Müge Göçek, East Encounters West: France and the Ottoman Empire in the Eighteenth Century (New York: 1987); Robert Dankoff, An Ottoman Mentality: The World of Evliya Çelebi (Leiden: 2006); Frédérick Hitzel, Prisonnier des infidèles: Un soldat ottoman dans l’Empire des Habsbourg (Arles: 1998); and Hanna Dyâb, D’Alep à Paris: Les pérégrinations d’un jeune Syrien au temps de Louis XIV, trans. Paule Fahmé, Bernard Heyberger, and Jérôme Lentin (Arles: 2015).

7

Carter Vaughn Findley, ‘Ebu Bekir Ratib’s Vienna Embassy Narative: Discovering Austria or Propagandizing for Reform in Istanbul?’, Wiener Zeitschrift für die Kunde des Morgenlandes 85 (1995), 41–80; and Virginia Aksan, An Ottoman Statesman in War and Peace: Ahmed Resmi Efendi, 1700–1783 (Leiden: 1995).

8

Virginia H. Aksan and Veysel Șimșek, ‘Introduction: Living in the Ottoman House’, Journal of Ottoman Studies 44 (2014), 1–8.

9

In the course of the eighteenth century, members of the Văcărescu family sought to construct a prestigious genealogy for themselves that would tie them to Wallachia’s founding dynasty, see Biblioteca Academiei Române (hereafter BAR), Fond Manuscrise MS 305, f. 3v.

10

Cornel Cârstoiu, Ianache Văcărescu: Viaţa şi opera (Bucharest: 1974), 36–38. The post of grand vornic was equivalent to a minister of justice.

11

See the anaphora of May 9, 1746: V.A. Urechia, Istoria Şcoalelor (Bucharest: 1892), I, 14.

12

Cârstoiu, Văcărescu, 52–56; Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, xix–xxii. His career in the Ottoman service shows parallels with those of other high-ranking Christian and Ottoman officials of this period. See, for instance, Fatih Yeşil, ‘How to Be(come) an Ottoman at the End of the Eighteenth Century’, Journal of Ottoman Studies, 44 (2014), 123–139; and Philliou, Biography of an Empire.

13

Alexandru Odobescu, Opere, vol. 2 (Bucharest: 1967), 53.

14

Frequently mentioned in diplomatic correspondence, Iacovaki Rizo was a very influential figure and member of a network that covered the European embassies in Pera, Hurmuzaki, Documente, VII, 20, 134, 172, 269, 280, 291; IX: part 2, 113.

15

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 219.

16

In addition to this history of the Ottoman Empire, Ianache Văcărescu wrote the first grammar of Romanian, printed simultaneously in Râmnic and in Vienna (1787), compiled (probably) bilingual German–Romanian (BAR, MS. 1392) and Turkish–Romanian dictionaries (BAR, MS 1393), and wrote poetry.

17

Sturdza, Grandes Familles de Grèce, d’Albanie et de Constantinople, 257, 259. Although they belonged to the same branch of the family. Iordaki and Nicolae were only distantly related. Iordaki was the son of the grand dragoman Charles Caradja. He was doctor and grand logophoros to the Patriarchate in Constantinople, and grand dragoman, and was married to Sultana Mavrocordat, the daughter of the Phanariot prince Ioan Mavrocordat. Nicolae was the son of Constantin Caradja and Zafira Soutzu, and held the office of grand dragoman before later becoming prince of Wallachia. See Rizo-Rangabé, Livre d’or de la noblesse phanariote, 37–39.

18

Literally sword-bearer, the high office-holder in charge of the armed forces and the police.

19

Governor of Oltenia, the highest office in the princely council.

20

In recent research, the term ‘Ottomanization’ has been proposed to explain the rapid adoption of Ottoman costume by the Christian population on the borders of the Ottoman Empire. See Michał Wasiucionek, ‘Conceptualizing Moldavian Ottomanness: Elite Culture and Ottomanization of the Seventeenth-Century Moldavian Boyars’, Medieval and Early Modern Studies for Central and Eastern Europe, 8 (2016), 39–78.

21

See his portraits drawn by Anton Chladek.

22

Grigore, Bishop of Argeș provided a description of the mansion, calling it worthy of a great pasha: see Odobescu, Opere, vol. 2, 75–77. For the manner in which the house of a Turkish pasha was organized, see the interesting analysis made by Hedda Reindl-Kiel, ‘The Must-Haves of a Grand Vizier: Merzifonlu Kara Mustafa Pasha’s Luxury Assets’, Wiener Zeitschrift für die Kunde des Morgenlandes, 106 (2016), 179–221.

23

For example, Văcărescu’s mansion in Băneasa just outside Bucharest, built around 1784–1785 following the boyar’s return from Brașov, was inspired by ‘German’ models, as stipulated in the contracts he had signed with mason Johann Ratner and carpenter Theodor Janos. See Nicolae Iorga (ed.), Studii și documente cu privire la istoria românilor, vol. 3 (Bucharest: 1901), 79–80.

24

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 116.

25

Ibid., 117. Emperor Joseph II noted (June 6, 1773) this social encounter with the Romanian boyars who had taken refuge in Braşov: ‘Hernach giengen wir in die Gessellschaft zum General Eichholz so alle Boerinnen und Griechinnen eingeladen hatte. Er scheinet ein alter wohlgedienter Mann zu seÿn, der ziemlich gut informiret ist, von hiesigen Gegenden. Es waren etlich und 20. Griechinnen, alle magnifique angelegt, und welche mitsammen theils spieleten, theils so sitzeten, aber keine einzige konnte eine Sprache als griechischen und wallachisch. Ich redete mit den Herrn eine.’ Călătoria împăratului Iosif al II-lea în Transilvania la 1773, ed. Ileana Bozac and Teodor Pavel (Cluj: 2017), 629.

26

See the list in Mihai Carataşu, Documentele Văcăreştilor (Bucharest: 1975), 59–61.

27

An analysis of dowry lists and inventories for the period 1700–1800, finds forks present in the dowry lists of the children of Prince Constantin Brâncoveanu (1688–1714), included in the item ‘12 pairs of knives, with their forks and spoons.’ It cannot be said with certainty that forks were in regular use. The princely family could be an exception. After this date, however, the expression is simply ‘12 pairs of silver knives and spoons’, under the heading ‘Silverware’. The fork reappears in the context of the Russian military occupations in the nineteenth century. See Constanţa Vintilă-Ghiţulescu, Patimă şi desfătare. Despre lucrurile mărunte ale vieţii cotidiene în societatea românească, 1750–1860 (Bucharest: 2015), 140–147.

28

Norbert Elias, La civilisation des mœurs (Paris: 1973), 180.

29

Carataşu, Documentele, 59–61.

30

Andreas Wolf was a Transylvanian Saxon, a doctor at the princely court of Moldavia. He came to Moldavia in 1780 and stayed at the court until 1783. In 1784 he was in Wallachia, returning to Moldavia in 1788–1790 and 1796–1797. See Andreas Wolf, Beiträge zur einer statistich-historischen Beschreibung des Fürstenthums Moldau (Sibiu: 1805), 218–219. See also Maria Holban, Maria M. Alexandrescu-Dersca Bulgaru, Paul Cernovodeanu (eds.), Călători străini despre țările române, Bucharest: 2000, vol. X/1, 1267.

31

For the coffee ritual see Vintilă-Ghiţulescu, Patimă şi desfătare, 149–157.

32

David Do Paço shows how coffee became part of a ritual of diplomatic meetings between Turks and Austrians in ‘Comment le café devient viennois. Métissage et cosmopolitisme urbain dans l’Europe du XVIIIe siècle’, Hypothèses 2011: Travaux de l’École doctorale d’histoire (Paris: 2012), 351.

33

Carataşu, Documentele, 59–61.

34

Carataşu, Documentele, 59–61.

35

HHStA, Moldau-Walachei I/26/ Brancovan, f. 13, 15 January 1772. See also Chapter 1.

36

The chancellor dismissed the request, arguing that ‘l’Impératrice-Reine’ had to give priority to her subjects, whose interests had to take precedence over those of foreigners in the distribution of privileges and money (April 19, 1773, Vienna). HHStA Moldau-Walachei I/26/Vaccaresculi, f. 39–40; See also Andrei Pippidi, Documente privind locul românilor în Sud-estul Europei (Bucharest: 2018), 266–267.

37

It is unclear whether Văcărescu was the recipient of a letter that arrived from Vienna on November 15, 1777. Written in German, it provides a detailed description of social events in the Habsburg town, see BAR, fond Documente Istorice, CCCI/49.

38

Ișlic: the tall, fur-trimmed hat worn as a mark of status by a Wallachian or Moldavian boyar.

39

The event attracted such popular interest that the story was quickly versified and circulated in the alleys of market towns in the form of a poem. See Cronici şi povestiri româneşti versificate (sec. XVII–XVIII), ed. Dan Simonescu (Bucharest:1967), 221–224.

40

HHStA, Moldau-Walachei I/26, Ipsilanti (1775–1793), 9–11, ff. 30–40, Türkei, II/77, ff. 55–57.

41

Hurmuzaki, Documente, VII, 331.

42

Hurmuzaki, Documente, VII, January 8, 1782, 339–340.

43

Hurmuzaki, Documente, VII, January 8, 1782, 339–340.

44

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 127. On ‘Ottoman Vienna’ at the end of eighteenth century, see David Do Paço, L’Orient à Vienne au dix-huitième siècle (Oxford: 2015).

45

Hurmuzaki, Documente, VII, 345, January 13, 1782, Cronstat.

46

Ianache arrived in Vienna on January 25, 1782.

47

On the use of the denomination ‘Turk’ see Palmira Brummett, ‘You Say “Classical”, I Say “Imperial”’, Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off: Empire, Individual, and Encounter in Travel Narratives of the Ottoman Empire’, Journal of Ottoman Studies 44 (2014), 21–44.

48

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 129–130.

49

A long robe.

50

A short, embroidered jacket, worn over the anteri.

51

Văcărescu emphasized the attention and respect he received from French ambassador Breteuil, who tried to ingratiate himself with the ‘Sublime Devlet’. Upon grasping the underlying reason for this ‘abundance of ceremonies’ on Breteuil’s part, Văcărescu responded to him as to ‘a Turk’, causing the diplomat ‘much satisfaction’. Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 131.

52

On Vienna as a diplomatic centre see David do Paço, The Political Agents of Muslim Rulers in Central Europe in the 18th century, in Christian-Muslim Relations. A Bibliographical History, vol. 14: Central and Eastern Europe, 1700–1800, eds. David Thomas and John Chesworth (Leiden: 2020), 39–55.

53

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 131.

54

Donald Quataert, ‘Clothing Laws, the State and Society in the Ottoman Empire, 1720–1829’, International Journal of Middle Eastern Studies 29, no. 3 (1997), 403–425; Hedda Reindl-Kiel, ‘Luxury, Power Strategies and the Question of Corruption: Gifting in the Ottoman Elite (16th–18th Centuries)’, in Yavuz Köse (ed.), Şehrâyîn. Die Welt der Osmanen, die Osmanen in der Welt, Wahrnehmungen, Begegnungen und Abgrenzungen: Festschrift Hans Georg Majer (Wiesbaden: 2012), 107–120.

55

A long felt coat, often lined and trimmed with fur.

56

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 130. A similar scene can be found in the account of Ebu Bekir Ratıb, Ottoman ambassador to Vienna in 1792. This time, the scene focused on Prince Kaunitz and his horse-riding skills. See Findley, ‘Ebu Bekir Ratib’s Vienna Embassy’, 65. For Kaunitz’s behaviour, see Franz A. Szabo, Kaunitz and Enlightened Absolutism 1753–1780 (Cambridge: 1994), 20–35.

57

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 133.

58

Barbara Stollberg-Rilinger, Les vieux habits de l’empereur. Une histoire culturelle des institutions du Saint-Empire à l’époque moderne (Paris: 2008), 312. For Joseph II and court ceremonial, see Derek Beales, Joseph II: Against the World, 1780–1790 (Cambridge: 2013).

59

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 133.

60

In the meantime, events had taken a new turn in Wallachia. Alexandru Ipsilanti had given up the throne and had named Ianache Văcărescu as kaymakam. Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 135.

61

In Wallachia, ‘the custom of kissing the prince’s hand as a sign of subservience would be abolished only on July 21, 1834, by a princely decree sent to all departments, ANIC, Fond Achiziţii Noi, MMMXXXIX/1; SJAN/Vâlcea, Fond Prefectura Judeţului Vâlcea, 35/1834; SJAN/Buzău, Fond Subocârmuirea Plaiului despre Buzău, 53/1834).

62

T.C.W. Blanning, Joseph II (London, 2013), 64; On diplomatic ritual, see also: Christine Vogel, ‘The Caftan and the Sword: Dress and Diplomacy in Ottoman–French Relations Around 1700’, in Claudia Ulbrich and Richard Wittmann (eds.), Fashioning the Self in Transcultural Settings: The Uses and Significance of Dress in Self-Narratives (Würzburg: 2015), 25–45.

63

For the Ottoman protocol of hand-kissing, see Palmira Brummett, ‘A Kiss is Just a Kiss: Rituals of Submission along the East-West Divide’, in Matthew Birchwood and Matthew Dimmock (eds.), Cultural Encounters between East and West, 1453–1699 (Cambridge: 2005), 107–131.

64

HHStA, Türkei, II/77, f. 11, 60.

65

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 136.

66

Ianache Văcărescu writes: ‘He asked me many questions, about Tsarigrad (Constantinople), about Wallachia, about customs and other things,’ Ibid., 136.

67

Judson, Habsburg Empire, 55.

68

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 136.

69

Mary Louise Pratt, Imperial Eyes: Travel Writing and Transculturation (New York: 1992), 4.

70

For this topic, see Larry Wolff, Inventing Eastern Europe: The Map of Civilization on the Mind of the Enlightenment (Stanford, CA: 1994); and Maria Todorova, Imagining the Balkans (Oxford: 1997).

71

See Alexander Bevilacqua and Helen Pfeifer, ‘Turquerie: Culture in Motion, 1650–1750’, Past and Present 221 (2013), 75–118.

72

Văcărescu frequently borrowed Greek, Italian, French, Turkish, or German terms to convey notions without an equivalent in Romanian.

73

The reference is to the work of the Italian author Geminiano Gaetti, Il giovane istruito ne’dogmi cattolici: nella verità della religione cristiana e sua morale (Venice, 1749). Serdar Anton Manuil composed a Greek translation, published in 1794 and dedicated to Spătar Ianache Văcărescu (Cârstoiu, Văcărescu, 227).

74

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 94.

75

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 77–78.

76

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 149. Of Selim he writes that he was from Nikopol, and that he had been kapicibaşi and ayan, in recognition of which he received ‘three tails’ from the sultan and command of the citadels of Nikopol and Kula.

77

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 103. Drace-Francis, Making, 63, also points out Văcărescu’s eagerness to underline his social distinction when he signed his books as a dikaiophylax of the Great Eastern Church. Similarly high levels of self-esteem can be found among the Ottoman diplomats discussed by Denis Klein, ‘The Sultan’s Envoys Speak: The Ego in 18th Century Ottoman Sefâretnâmes on Russia’, in Ralf Elger and Yavuz Köse (eds.), Many Ways of Speaking About Self: Middle Eastern Ego-Documents in Arabic, Persian and Turkish (14th–20th Century) (Wiesbaden: 2010), 89–103.

78

Iordache Condilo was the brother-in-law of the Phanariot prince Nicolae Mavrogheni (1786–1790) and a diplomatic agent. He appears as a character in the novel Anastasius by Thomas Hope (London: 1819), II, 293.

79

See the document of April 30, 1795, in Urechia, Istoria românilor, vol. 5, 306–307.

80

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 118.

81

Sulzer, Geschichte des transalpinischen Daciens, III, 335. See also Călători străini, X/I, 473

82

Sulzer, Geschichte.

83

Dimitrie Ţichindeal, Îndreptări moraliceşti tinerilor foarte folositoare (Moral guidelines very useful to the young) (Buda: 1813), 62. Dimitrie Ţichindeal (1775–1818) was a Romanian teacher and priest from the Banat who translated or wrote many manuals of savoir-vivre.

84

Sulzer, Geschichte, III, 334.

85

Sulzer, Geschichte. See also the episodes analyzed by Dariusz Kołodziejczyk, ‘Semiotics of Behavior in Early Modern Diplomacy: Polish Embassies in Istanbul and Bahçesaray’, Journal of Early Modern History 7, 3–4 (2003), 245–256.

86

Politíe comes from polis and adds the modern sense of ‘polite.’

87

Roger Chartier, Lecturi şi cititori în Franţa Vechiului Regim (Bucharest: 1997), 57–59.

88

Ibid., 79.

89

Ibid., 81.

90

Norbert Elias, La société de cour (Paris: 1985), 115.

91

Emperor Joseph II respected the promise he had made to the Wallachian office-holder. The young Constantin and Dimitrie Ipsilanti were well received at the court of Vienna, but they were urged to return home. See the relevant diplomatic correspondence in HHStA, Türkei, II/77, ff. 152–155. Hurmuzaki, Documente, vol. 7, 333–334, 361–363, 377–378, 441–442; and 9, 124.

92

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 142. Philliou writes that Mavrogheni knew Greek, Turkish, and Italian. He came from a family from Paros that was well represented in the ranks of office-holders in the Ottoman Empire. Philliou, Biography of an Empire, 44–47.

93

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 142.

94

Hurmuzaki, Documente, XIX, 25 January 1788, 387.

95

Fotino, Istoria Generală a Daciei, 175.

96

HHStA Moldau–Walachei I/26, f. 74–75, March 10, 1791.

97

For the most recent presentation, see Radu G. Păun, Ianache Văcărescu, in David Thomas and John Chesworth (eds.), Christian–Muslim Relations. A Bibliographical History, vol. 14. Central and Eastern Europe (1700–1800) (Leiden: 2020), 364–381.

98

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 105.

99

HHStA Moldau-Walachei I/26/Vaccaresculi, f. 39–40, 19 April 1773.

100

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 111.

101

Urechia, ‘Istoria evenimentelor’, 408–409.

102

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 112.

103

Văcărescu also suspected that the boyars in the Russian camp, particularly the Cantacuzinos, had contributed to the blocking of his access to the Ottoman camp. Ibid., 112.

104

Aksan, An Ottoman Statesman, 158.

105

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 113.

106

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 113.

107

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 113–114.

108

Girays had a special position, coming from the dynasty ruling the Crimean Khanate that Russia was in the process of annexing. See on this Denise Klein (ed.), The Crimean Khanate Between East and West (15th–18th Century) (Wiesbaden: 2012).

109

On 15 September 1774, Alexandru Ipsilanti was appointed prince of Wallachia.

110

See Abdülhamid I’s ferman of 5/14 November 1774, in which he asks the inhabitants to return to their homes, assuring them that they will be ‘completely forgiven’ and that the pre-war situation will be restored. Documente turceşti, III, 2–4.

111

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 119.

112

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 122.

113

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 137. Through this marriage, Văcărescu entered one of the most powerful Phanariot networks. His brothers-in-law held the offices of grand dragoman and dragoman of the imperial fleet; others became princes of Moldavia and Wallachia; he became related to the Moruzi, Ghica, Mavrocordat, and Callimachi families. See Rizo-Rangabé, Livre d’or, 37–39.

114

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 141. He writes about the mission he was given to gather army provisions on the Danube border, to prepare bridges, and even to build a ship: ‘We arranged to build in Wallachia a naval ship as we had already done in ’76.’ See in this connection the ferman of Sultan Abdülhamid I of 19/28 February 1787, in which he asks for the galley that was being built at Galați to be finished and sent. Documente turceşti, II, 106–107.

115

‘What shall I say of his deeds and works, for I am ashamed to take note of them? So I leave them to those who write the annals of the princes.’ Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 143. Dionisie Fotino describes Mavrogheni as ‘bizarre’, ‘eccentric’, and with ‘strange behaviour’, as examples of which he mentions presenting his dreams at meetings of the divan and making his horse Talambașa a boyar, with the rank of serdar. Fotino, Istoria Generală a Daciei, 175. Dionisie the Ecclesiarch also recounts the prince’s eccentricities, including going through the city on inspection disguised as a priest and conferring boyar status on whoever he caught, giving them kaftans of plain cloth and demanding money from them. Dionisie Eclisiarhul, Scrieri alese. Hronograf, 23–26, 38.

116

‘Toutes les grandes familles grecques, malgré la haine qui les divise toujours, se réunirent pour empêcher un paysan de l’archipel de leur enlever une place qu’elles regardent comme leur patrimoine et se cotisèrent pour convaincre toute le Divan de l’incapacité de Mavroyeni.’ Hurmuzaki, Documente, I/2, 37. Regarding Mavrogheni, see also Théodore Blancard, Les Mavroyéni. Essai d’étude additionnelle à l’histoire moderne de la Grèce, de la Turquie et de la Roumanie (Paris: 1893); Sophia Laiou, ‘Between Pious Generosity and Faithful Service to the Ottoman State: The Vakıf of Nikolaos Mavroghenis, End of the Eighteenth Century’, Turkish Historical Review, 6 (2015), 151–174.

117

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 146.

118

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 149. Mavrogheni took advantage of an order of the sultan, who required that in wartime the prince should send his family to Istanbul to be ‘protected’, but also to prove his devotion. Together with the princely family, the principal boyars of the country with their families were also required as a guarantee. Such a ferman was issued on 25 August/3 September 1787 for the prince of Moldavia, Alexandru Ipsilanti. See also the complaint of the Wallachian boyars to Nicolae Mavrogheni in which they expressed their agreement to leave for Nikopol as the sultan’s ferman of 1/13 October 1788 required. Documente turceşti, II, 179, 204–205.

119

On 26 March 1788, Nicolae Mavrogheni issued a sort of ‘travel letter’ in which he requested the Ottoman authorities on the other side of the Danube to support the journey of the boyars ‘sent to the region of Nikopol’. The document names Emanuel Brâncoveanu, Dumitraşco Racoviţă, Manolache Creţulescu, and Costache Ghica, accompanied by their wives and children, forty-one servants, and a doctor assisted by with five helpers, together with a large number of carriages. It recommends that they be treated as ‘guests’ and asks ‘that they not be troubled with the demand for cizye or on other pretexts’ and that they enjoy ‘guarding and protection’. Documente turceşti, II, 293.

120

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 153.

121

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 154.

122

On prisoners and their treatment, see Smiley, From Slaves to Prisoners of War.

123

The kaymakam at that time was Sılahdar Mustafa Pasha.

124

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 157.

125

See the ferman of Sultan Selim III of Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească 21/31 August 1790 by which he requires the kadı and bostancı of Edirne to help the Wallachian boyars to move there to the village of Arnavud ‘so that their families and children may live in peace.’ The ferman also mentioned the fact that the boyars ‘had carried out the tasks they had received,’ and ‘had made efforts to strengthen the conviction of the High Devlet and to please the padishah.’ Likewise, they had proved ‘honour and devotion’ as valuable signs of ‘their submission as non-Muslim subjects’. See also the other two fermans issued in succession by which the local authorities were required to ensure peace and protection for the boyars. Documente turceşti, II, 312–315.

126

Arvanitochori is also known as Arbanasi, Arnavud. Arbanasi is nect to Veliko Turnovo.

127

Probably today’s Veliko Turnovo, but there are several places called Turnovo in the Balkans.

128

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 153.

129

Văcărescu writes with pride that the order is preserved in the family archives as an important document: ‘which mektub is kept in care with much honour in the archives of my house.’ Similarly, he received from the vizier Hasan Pasha ‘two emirnames of introduction with much praise. Which too are guarded among the letters of my house with much veneration.’ Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 153–154, 167.

130

Documente turceşti, II, 311, 23 July/1 August 1790.

131

See also the ferman of Sultan Selim III of 19/28 October 1791 by which he requires prince Mihai Suţu to annul all boyar titles accorded by Nicolae Mavrogheni in the course of his reign, 1786–1790. Documente turceşti, III, 14–15.

132

On the killing of Mavrogheni, see Fotino, Istoria Generală a Daciei, 179–180; Philliou, Biography of an Empire, 44–47.

133

The leylek çadırı was a tent in the Ottoman camp which was used for executions, close to the commanders quarters

134

‘Kaftan bearer’, the keeper of the princely wardrobe.

135

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 167.

136

He was appointed by Hasan Pasha as a sort of administrator of Wallachia, with the mission of ensuring the provisioning of the Ottoman forces by encouraging the peasants and merchants along the Danube to sell their produce direct to the army. At the same time, he also served in the role of judge for litigation among the inhabitants of the Danube border. Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 161–162.

137

Possibly to be identified with Mekki Mehmed Efendi, who served in the post of şeyhülislam from March 1791 until June 1792.

138

The position of bostancıbaşı (chief of gardeners) was held at the time by Osman Ağa.

139

In the winter of 1791–1792, the position of Janissary Agha was held by Arapzade Ahmed Agha (October 1791–25 June 1792).

140

Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 168.

141

Ibid., 169–170.

142

On the importance of these regional power centres, see Ali Yaycioğlu, ‘Provincial Power-holders and the Empire in the Late Ottoman World’, in Christine Woodhead (ed.), The Ottoman World (London: 2012), 436–452.

143

See also the chronicle of events in Wallachia narrated (in Greek) by another boyar close to Văcărescu, Ban Mihai Cantacuzino, who in 1778, after several attempts by his brother Pârvu Cantacuzino to become prince, chose to leave for Russia. Mihai Cantacuzino, Genealogia Cantacuzinilor, edition by Nicolae Iorga (Bucharest: 1902).

144

In his view, the mission to bring back Ipsilanti’s sons was ‘a service rendered to the [Ottoman] Empire’. Văcărescu, Istoria Othomanicească, 127.

145

Philliou, Biography of an Empire, 39.

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Changing Subjects, Moving Objects

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

Series:  Balkan Studies Library, Volume: 31