unseemly. They chose the Turkish word dana , meaning ‘bull’, as their nom de guerre .
As neighbours became friends, so they were invited to each other’s feasts and festivals. When the young Greek girl, Aglaia Kontou, got married, the couple received some fabulous presents from their Turkish neighbours. ‘[One] gave us a long clock with an eagle that announced the hours. On another occasion, we offered them a gramophone and seven records.’
In such a heterogeneous city, it was inevitable that there were occasional tensions, particularly among the poorly educated. The Jewish Passover was often a moment of stress between Greeks and Jews. There were those among the illiterate older generation who believed an ancient superstition that the Jews sacrificed a Christian child in order to mix its blood into their unleavened bread. When, in 1901, a young Greek boy went missing, a rabble flocked to the Jewish quarter and rang the bells of a nearby church as a call to arms. The Greek Orthodox archbishop and the city government were quick to condemn the mob. Its leaders were arrested, appearing in the dock in Smyrna’s courtroom. Their humiliation was complete when the missing Greek boy was found alive and well. He had run away from home to escape a punishment from his parents.
Such disagreeable incidents were rare and quickly quashed by the city’s governor. The rule of law always prevailed and for more than half a century – from the early 1860s until 1914 – Smyrna was one of the more enlightened cities on earth. Horton gave a great deal of thought to the reasons for this in his quest to identify the city’s magic ingredient. It was not merely the fact that the city stood at the interchange of a dozen worlds. Smyrna’s allure was more elusive and complex. Happiness was an emotion that defied measurement and yet it was the general sense of contentment that, time and again, struck foreign visitors to the metropolis. ‘The lightheartedness of the Smyrniots was well-nigh irrepressible,’ wrote Horton, ‘and continued almost until the last days.’
Visiting European intellectuals were fascinated to observe such a racially mixed city at close quarters. When the Austrian savant, Charles de Scherzer, had visited Smyrna in 1874, he brought with him a most negative image of the Turks, yet he went away with all his preconceptions shattered. ‘In matters of religion,’ he wrote, ‘they are – contrary to their reputation – the most tolerant people of the Orient.’
Scherzer concluded that the Levantines – torch-bearers of culture and learning – had created a truly remarkable environment. ‘The philanthropist notes with satisfaction how the progress of western civilisation has swept through every layer and class of society and that Smyrna acts like a beacon to every other province of the Ottoman Empire.’
Smyrna’s population continued to enjoy the gaiety of life throughout the spring of 1914. There were afternoon tea dances in the salons of the clubhouses and a season of Italian operettas in the Alhambra garden theatre. But as Easter approached, it became clear that the beautiful coastline to the north of Smyrna was in deep turmoil. Thousands of Muslim refugees had fled in panic from the continued fighting in the Balkans and they were now bent on revenge. Their target was the Greek community living on the Aegean coastline of Turkey.
The crisis began in May, when a large number of refugees arrived in the town of Adramyttium, some seventy miles to the north of Smyrna. They were accompanied by armed bands of chettes , or irregulars, equipped with clubs, knives and rifles. Surging into the centre of town, they began ransacking homes and shops owned by Greeks. The offices of the town’s richest merchants, the Kazaxi family, were destroyed and the family was given twenty-four hours to leave Turkey. When they appealed to their Ottoman overlords for help, they were met with a wall of silence. The government in
Dorien Grey
Tanya Shaffer
John Feinstein
Ally Bishop
Kate Mosse
Tara Janzen
Jill Shalvis
CRYSTAL GREEN
Lauren Jackson
Eileen Sharp