Chapter 48: Merchant Alliances

Chapter 48: Chapter 48: Merchant Alliances

I

Constantinople, Galata — 22 October 1912

By the second week of the war, three bills drawn upon Thracian merchants had been returned unpaid in a single morning at the Ottoman Bank.

Agop Kalfayan had called twenty traders to his upper room, and the air was heavy with tobacco and worry.

"Bulgaria, Serbia, and Greece have all declared war," he said. "The banks will tighten credit by the end of the week, and every man in this room has bills that depend on the provinces."

Nikolaos Efendi of the ?zmit mill sat near the window with his hat upon his knee.

"My buyers in Salonica cannot pay me, and my paper suppliers in Vienna will not wait," he said. "If I stop the mill, three hundred families will go hungry before Christmas."

Hac? Arif rose slowly from his chair at the end of the table. He had not spoken since he sat down.

"Each of us will go to the bank alone, and each of us will be refused alone," he said. "That is the oldest weakness of the bazaar."

Ayaan, who had been invited as a guest of Zeynep’s father, asked leave to speak, and Agop nodded.

"A merchant alone is a debtor," said Ayaan. "Twenty merchants who guarantee one another’s bills are a bank."

The room was silent, and then Mustafa laid his palm upon the table.

"Explain it plainly, my son."

"Let each man place money in a common fund, in proportion to his stock," said Ayaan. "The fund will stand behind any bill drawn by a member, and the Ottoman Bank will lend upon that guarantee."

II

Constantinople, Galata — 24 October 1912

Monsieur Barrault received them in the director’s office of the Ottoman Bank, beneath a portrait of the old Sultan and a window that looked upon the harbour.

Agop, Hac? Arif, and Ayaan sat in a row before his desk, and Agop laid the draft rules of the fund upon the blotter.

"Twenty merchants, each guaranteeing the others," said Barrault, tapping the paper with a silver pencil. "It is an unusual proposal in a city where every man prefers to trust only himself."

"It is unusual because it has never been tried in the bazaar," said Ayaan. "But the House of Hassan has kept its bills with this bank for two years without one delay."

The Frenchman studied him with some care. "I have heard that your price board is read aloud in the guild house, Monsieur Hassan, and that the weights at Kas?mpa?a are checked by a professor."

"All of it is true, and the fund’s ledgers will be read aloud in the same fashion."

Barrault laid down the pencil and was silent for a long moment.

"The directors in Paris will not like it," he said. "But they will like a war that finds our debtors in ruin even less, and I may use my own judgement in the capital."

"What do you require?" asked Agop.

"A guarantee of one lira in the fund for every three lent, a monthly statement, and the right to inspect the books without notice." He looked at each of them in turn. "Give me those, gentlemen, and Allah willing, we shall lend."

Hac? Arif inclined his head. "You shall have them by Saturday, Monsieur."

III

Constantinople, Rüstem Pa?a — 29 October 1912

Zeynep had drawn up the rules overnight, and she read them aloud to the twenty merchants in the warehouse hall.

"Every member pays one tenth of his stock value into the fund," she said. "No member may draw more than twice his own deposit, and no bill may be guaranteed unless two other members have inspected the debtor’s books."

"And who keeps the books of the fund?" asked Nikolaos Efendi.

"Elias Benveniste, with Agop Efendi as witness and Hac? Arif Efendi as auditor," said Zeynep. "Each ledger will be read aloud at the end of every month, so that no man may say he was not told."

An older merchant from the spice lane objected, with a raised voice.

"This will tie the weak to the strong! Why should I guarantee a stranger’s bill?"

"Because tomorrow the stranger may guarantee yours," said Hac? Arif, before anyone else could answer. "Tell me, Efendi, which man in the bazaar has never needed a favour?"

The spice merchant grumbled and then laid a purse upon the table.

By the evening of the same day, eighteen of the twenty had signed, and the fund held eleven hundred and forty liras.

IV

Constantinople, Sirkeci — 6 November 1912

The refugees began to arrive from Thrace on the first cold days of November, and the station yard filled with wagons and bundles.

Cevdet stood at the gate of the station with Yakup and Selim, who carried two baskets of bread from the warehouse kitchen. He had a list in his hand and a grim look upon his scarred face.

"Seven hundred came yesterday, and more are expected tonight," he said. "Among them are forty families who bought paper and ink from the House for two seasons."

"Where are they sleeping?" asked Ayaan, who had come as soon as the message reached him.

"Some in the mosque courtyards, and some in the open." Cevdet looked at him steadily. "I have also learned that the Ministry has no plan to feed them beyond the first week."

Ayaan turned to the two students and asked them to fetch the foundry’s wagon.

"Take the blankets from the Kas?mpa?a storeroom, and ask ?smail Usta to open the shed behind the foundry," he said. "It has a roof, a chimney, and three stoves."

"The House cannot house all of them," said Cevdet quietly.

"It cannot, but the fund can." Ayaan took the list and read it through. "Let the Compact rent two empty han buildings in Emin?nü, and let each member send what he can spare."

Cevdet did not smile, but he inclined his head very slightly.

"You asked nothing of me before you decided," he said. "That is a change since the spring, and I have noticed it."

V

Constantinople, Galata — 14 November 1912

A telegram from Beirut reached the Galata office at noon, and Zeynep read it twice before she handed it to her husband.

"Haddad says the Beirut stock has sold out," she said. "He also says that a merchant of Damascus named Faris Saad has asked to meet us."

Faris Saad arrived by the evening steamer, a broad, quiet man with a cane of black wood. He sat in the counting room and drank his coffee before he spoke.

"The merchants of Damascus have watched your Friday letters and your price board for six months," he said. "They believe that the House of Hassan keeps its word, and they wish to join your compact."

"We are honoured, Faris Efendi," said Ayaan. "But the fund is held in Constantinople, and the risk of the Syrian provinces is not the risk of the capital."

"Then let us make a second fund at Damascus, with its own rules and its own books." The Syrian leaned forward. "Let the two funds guarantee each other, up to a limit that each keeps in sight."

Zeynep exchanged a glance with Ayaan and answered for them both.

"A limit of two hundred liras on each side, reviewed every quarter, and ended by either fund with thirty days’ notice."

"That is a fair arrangement," said Faris Saad, and he extended his hand.

When he had gone, Ayaan looked at the telegram once more, and he realised what it meant. The alliance was no longer one city’s defence against one war.

VI

Constantinople, Kas?mpa?a — 27 November 1912

Herr Imhof’s crates arrived on a freezing morning, and the foundry yard rang with the voices of porters and carters.

The testing machine came out of its straw last, and it stood upon the new masonry, broad and black and higher than a man’s waist.

?smail Usta walked around it twice with his hands behind his back and said nothing.

"It is a handsome piece, Usta," said Imhof. "But it is only as honest as the man who reads it."

"Then we had better teach the readers," said ?smail Usta, and he called Yakup and Selim forward.

Imhof showed them how to set the specimen, how to bring the load up slowly, and how to read the dial when the metal began to yield. By evening the first test was complete, and Selim recorded it in a clean hand.

A visitor was waiting at the gate when the work ended: a captain from the Ministry of War, with a leather folder.

"I am told that the House of Hassan keeps a machine that tests metal," he said. "The army has ordered brass fittings from three foundries, and the first two lots have failed in the field."

"We will test any lot that you bring us, Captain," said Ayaan. "The price is written on the board, and the result will be written in the report."

The captain looked at the machine, and then at the two young men beside it.

"I shall bring the next lot on Monday," he said.

VII

Constantinople, Kas?mpa?a — 2 December 1912

The captain came on Monday, as he had promised, with a wagon of brass fittings and two soldiers to guard them.

Halil R?fat tested the first forty pieces in the morning, with Yakup reading the dial and Selim writing the figures. By noon the result was plain.

"Fifteen of the forty failed the load," said Halil R?fat, and he laid the report before the captain. "The fault lies in the metal, which was cast too hot and cooled too fast."

The captain read the numbers slowly, and his jaw tightened.

"The foundry that cast these pieces swore that they were sound."

"Their word could not be measured, Captain, but the machine can be," said Ayaan. "I will not tell you what to do with the report, but I will tell you that it is accurate."

?smail Usta stepped forward with his cap in his hand.

"Captain, my men can cast the replacement lot in nine days, and the House will test every piece before it leaves the yard."

"And if it fails?"

"Then we shall bear the loss, as we bear it for the mill at ?zmit," said Ayaan. "That is the only guarantee the House offers."

The captain was silent, and then he extended his hand to ?smail Usta, who took it with some surprise.

"Allah grant that the army may find more such foundries," he said. "I will carry your offer to the colonel tonight."

VIII

Constantinople, Emin?nü — 4 December 1912

The armistice had been signed the previous day, and the city seemed to breathe again in the cold evening.

Zeynep sat at the table with the Compact’s ledger, and Ayaan read the totals over her shoulder.

"Thirty-one members now, and two thousand six hundred liras in the fund," she said. "Eleven bills were guaranteed during the war, and every one has been paid."

"What of the refugees?" he asked.

"Four hundred and thirty people are housed in the two han buildings, and the members have promised to feed them until the spring." She set down her pen. "It cost the fund three hundred liras, and no one complained."

Mustafa came in from the cold with snow upon his shoulders. He put a small sack of coins upon the table.

"From the spice merchant who objected," he said. "He says that he was mistaken, and that he would like to double his share."

Cevdet had come in behind the merchant and stood quietly by the door with his hat in his hand.

"The Ministry has begun to ask who organised the housing in Emin?nü," he said. "I told the officer that it was the merchants, and that the merchants were many."

"Thank you, Cevdet Efendi," said Ayaan. "It is better that the credit belong to all of them."

"That is also my opinion," said Cevdet, and he bowed and left.

Zeynep laughed softly, and the sound surprised her husband.

"It is the first time I have heard you laugh since October," he said.

"It is the first time I have felt that the House would still be standing in the spring," she answered.

Ayaan took out the notebook and wrote the date, and then a short line.

A merchant alone is a debtor, but merchants united are a trust.