The Vintage: A Romance of the Greek War of IndependenceBenson, E. F. (Edward Frederic)
History
The Vintage: A Romance of the Greek War of Independence
Benson, E. F. (Edward Frederic)
Greece -- History -- War of Independence, 1821-1829 -- Fiction
For the last year both Constantine, Mitsos' father, and the boy had
worked the little land he owned, like common laborers. Two years before
a Turkish pasha, Abdul Achmet by name, in passing through the country
had been struck by the Avilion climate of Nauplia, and had built a
house on the shore of the bay. The land belonged to Constantine, and
the Turk had promised him a fair price for it, feeling that a less
scrupulous man would have taken it off-hand. At the same time he
intimated that if he would not take a fair price for it, he would
get no price at all. The money, of course, was still owing, and on
Constantine's old vineyard stood the house, now finished. Abdul Achmet,
who was Governor of Argos, took up his quarters here permanently,
with his harem; for it was within easy distance of Argos, and on warm
evenings the women were often seen in the garden looking over the
sea-wall which separated it from the bay, a wall some ten feet high,
over which creepers sprawled and flamed. Abdul himself was a fat,
middle-aged Turk, slow of movement and sparing of speech. In temper of
mind he was a Gallio, and his neglect to pay Constantine the money he
owed him was as much due to negligence as to the usual Turkish method
of dealing with Greeks, which was not to pay at all. His harem, for the
years had long since quenched the ardor of his body, were given a good
deal of freedom, and were allowed to wander about the garden, which was
walled off from the country road, as they pleased.
Constantine had applied several times for payment, but had already
given up hopes of securing any equivalent for the land seized. He was a
Greek of the upper peasant class--that is to say, of the first class of
the country--who lived on their own land and employed labor. Like his
race, he was thrifty and industrious; but now, between the loss of his
vineyard and the iniquitous increase in the last year's taxes, which
promised to grow indefinitely, he found it difficult to do more than
make a sparing livelihood. He and Mitsos worked all the spring with
the laborers in the harvest-field, and in the autumn, when they had
finished making the wine from a half-acre of vines still left them, as
laborers in the neighboring vineyards.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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