The life of Midhat Pasha; a record of his services, political reforms, banishment, and judicial murder
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Title: The life of Midhat Pasha; a record of his services, political reforms, banishment, and judicial murder
Author: Ali Haydar Mithat
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE OF MIDHAT PASHA; A RECORD OF HIS SERVICES, POLITICAL REFORMS, BANISHMENT, AND JUDICIAL MURDER ***
THE LIFE OF MIDHAT PASHA
[Illustration:
_From a Photograph._
_The Typographic Etching Co. Ph. Sc._
_Midhat Pasha._]
THE LIFE OF
MIDHAT PASHA
A RECORD OF HIS SERVICES,
POLITICAL REFORMS, BANISHMENT,
AND JUDICIAL MURDER
DERIVED FROM PRIVATE DOCUMENTS AND
REMINISCENCES
BY HIS SON ALI HAYDAR MIDHAT BEY
WITH PORTRAITS
LONDON
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W.
1903
PREFACE
As the Son of Midhat Pasha I was for fifteen years compelled to reside
as an exile in Smyrna, but finding the physical and moral sufferings to
which I was there subjected greater than I could endure, I succeeded
in quitting the territories of the Sultan, and came to take up my
residence in this hospitable land, and among this great and free people.
In the following pages I have endeavoured to carry out a duty which has
long been incumbent on me, by letting the public, and especially the
English public, know the true story of my father’s career, and of his
death.
The record is based mainly on documents and notes left by him. In
obedience to requests from high quarters I abstain from publishing
certain documents and correspondence which, bearing as they do on
International affairs, might be calculated to cause embarrassment and
do harm.
It is possible that some of my father’s papers which I have now
printed, and which were written in Turkish, may have lost some of their
original brightness in the process of translation, but at least, most
scrupulous care has been taken to give the sense of them accurately.
There can be no doubt that at the present time Turkey is suffering
from a Reign of Terror, and is in a state of anarchy. I hope that the
narrative contained in these pages may afford some evidence of the
methods by which this condition of affairs has been produced.
My readers will learn how the Sovereign of the Ottoman Empire, in order
to carry out his own system of Government, has suppressed every effort
for reform, and has removed those men, who by their force of character,
by their uprightness, and by their popularity, seemed capable of
thwarting his designs, and amending the condition of the country and of
the people.
I wish to state here that I have a profound respect for the Imperial
Throne, and it is this consideration alone, I repeat it, and the honour
of my country, which makes me regard it as a duty to humanity to expose
the nefarious system of Sultan Abdul Hamid.
In conclusion, I would beg to offer my thanks to the Proprietors of the
_Times_ newspaper for giving me permission to reprint the excellent
report of my father’s trial which appeared in their columns.
ALI HAYDAR MIDHAT.
EASTBOURNE, _August 6, 1903_.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
EARLY HISTORY OF THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE
Page
Christians in Turkey—Turkish treatment of Subject
Races—Corruptions of the Ottoman System—Persistent policy of
Russia—Panslavic Committees—The Palace and the Porte—Growth
of Autocracy—The Janissaries—Revolt of Mehemet Ali—Reforms
of Abdul Medjid—The Czar Nicholas—Origins of the Crimean
War—The Crimean War—Attitude of France—Attitude of Austria 1–31
CHAPTER II
MIDHAT’S EARLY YEARS
Midhat in the Balkan Provinces—Governorship of Nish,
etc.—Widdin and Silistria—Midhat’s Success in Danube
Provinces—Intrigues of General Ignatieff—Insurrection
stirred up—Organisation of local Militia—Appointed Vali
of Bagdad—Fighting and Reforms—Finance and Engineering
Work—Bussora—Koweit, the Nedjed—The Conquest of
Nedjed—Defeat of Abdul Kerim—Aali Pasha—Extravagance of
Abdul Aziz—Midhat as Grand Vizier 32–66
CHAPTER III
DEPOSITION AND DEATH OF ABDUL AZIZ
Troubles in Herzegovina—Riots at Salonica—Outbreak
in Bulgaria—Meeting at Reichstadt—The Andrassy
Memorandum—The Sultan opposes Reform—Deposition of Abdul
Aziz—Preparations for the _Coup d’État_—Sultan Murad—Death
of Abdul Aziz—Breakdown of Sultan Murad—Damad Mahmoud’s
Conspiracy—Prince Hamid—Deposition of Murad 67–99
CHAPTER IV
ABDUL HAMID SULTAN
Abdul Hamid II.—The Imperial Household—The Speech from the
Throne—Nominal Reforms—Midhat’s Difficulties—Nominal and
Real Reforms—The New Constitution—Sovereign Rights 100–115
CHAPTER V
SECOND GRAND VIZIERATE OF MIDHAT PASHA
Opposition Intrigues—“Midhat’s Constitution”—Intrigues
against Midhat—Zia Bey—The Press—Promulgation of the
Constitution—Rescript of Abdul Hamid—Favourable Reception of
the Constitution 116–131
CHAPTER VI
THE CONFERENCE AND MIDHAT’S EXILE
Conference at Constantinople—General Ignatieff’s Conduct—The
New Constitution and the Powers—Galib Pasha and the
Finances—Mixed Schools—Protest of Midhat—Midhat Exiled—The
Sultan’s Precautions—Prince Gortchakoff and General
Ignatieff—Russian Declaration—Prince Gortchakoff’s Circular 132–154
CHAPTER VII
MIDHAT PASHA IN EUROPE
The Sultan’s Speech—Russia Declares War—Midhat in
Naples—Midhat’s Efforts for Peace—Midhat’s Recall by the
Sultan—Midhat and Kiamil Bey 155–171
CHAPTER VIII
THE RETURN OF MIDHAT PASHA TO TURKEY
Midhat in Crete—Appointed Governor of Syria 172–175
CHAPTER IX
MIDHAT PASHA, GOVERNOR‐GENERAL OF SYRIA
The Sultan Opposes Reforms—Cause of Midhat’s
Resignation—Condition of Syria—The Druses and the Arabs—The
Turbulent Druses—Troops to be sent—The Druses—Resignation
of Midhat—The Palace and Judicial Reforms—Midhat and Syria 176–195
CHAPTER X
MIDHAT, GOVERNOR‐GENERAL OF SMYRNA
Abdul Aziz’ Death—The _Terdjumani Hakikat_—Attack on
Midhat—Attitude of the French Consul—Midhat’s Arrest 196–206
CHAPTER XI
THE TRIAL OF MIDHAT PASHA
Mustapha the Wrestler—The Case for the Defence—Midhat’s
Defence—A Parody of Justice—The Public Prosecutor—Before
the Court of Appeal—Grand Council—The British
Parliament—Questions in Parliament—Mr M’Coan—Mr
Gladstone—Lord Stratheden and Campbell—England’s
Intervention 207–233
CHAPTER XII
EXILE OF MIDHAT PASHA
Midhat in Prison—Attempt to Poison Midhat—Arrest of Shereef
Abdul Mutalib—Haïroullah Effendi 234–241
CHAPTER XIII
DETAILS OF THE ASSASSINATION OF MIDHAT PASHA, ACCORDING
TO INFORMATION DERIVED FROM HAÏROULLAH EFFENDI
Return of Bekir—Midhat and Bekir—Tampering with
Food—Attempts to Poison—Preparations for the Murder—The
Murder 242–256
APPENDIX A
THE NEGOTIATIONS BETWEEN THE BERLIN NOTE AND THE
CONFERENCE OF CONSTANTINOPLE
Negotiations following the Berlin Note—The Conference at
Reichstadt—Servian Diplomacy and Defeat—England Proposes
Terms—An Ultimatum to the Porte—Disagreement among the
Powers 257–270
APPENDIX B
THE INSURRECTION OF HERZEGOVINA AND BOSNIA AND THE
BERLIN NOTE
Herzegovina and Bosnia—Lord Derby and Austria—Intentional
Bad Faith—Austrian Diplomacy—The Berlin Note—Austria and
Russia—Mr Monson’s Despatch 271–284
APPENDIX C
BULGARIAN ATROCITIES
A Bulgarian Insurrection—Revolutionary Agents at
Work—Fictions and Ingenious Credulity 285–292
MIDHAT PASHA
CHAPTER I
EARLY HISTORY OF THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE
It would be inconsistent with the general plan of this book to give
more than a very summary and cursory view of the early history of the
Ottoman Empire before the time of Midhat Pasha; but it will not be
inappropriate, and may possibly aid in elucidating the history of his
times, and throw light on his work of reform, if the main features of
that history be here drawn in outline, and some of the phases traced
through which the Turkish Empire passed during the four centuries that
elapsed between the taking of Constantinople by Mehemet II. and the
Crimean War.
It has sometimes been objected to Midhat Pasha and the Constitution
of 1876, by those who have given a very superficial study to the
subject, or who have a political object in depreciating all reforms
in Turkey, that, however admirable the Constitution may have been
in itself, it was prematurely and precipitately introduced, and ill
adapted to the peculiar conditions of the Ottoman people. One of the
aims of this book is to show that, so far from this being the case,
the reforms associated with the name of Midhat Pasha were conceived in
the very spirit of the early Ottoman Constitution, and were expressly
suggested by the wants and requirements of that country as revealed
in the course of its administration to a succession of statesmen, who
found themselves in practice hampered at every turn, and their best
efforts continually thwarted by the absence of the very checks and
safeguards which Midhat’s Constitution endeavoured to impose. Within
half a century of the taking of Constantinople (1454) by Mehemet II.,
Bulgaria, Servia, Moldavia, Wallachia and large portions of Hungary and
Poland were added to the Ottoman dominions. It was (as all impartial
writers now admit) as much by virtue of the simplicity and purity
of its creed, and the force of propagandism that it in consequence
possessed, as by the force of arms, that Islam made such astounding
progress in those days. If extensive provinces and important kingdoms
yielded with slight resistance before the advance of the Ottoman
armies, and if large masses of the conquered populations adopted the
religion of the conquerors, it was because their moral conquest was
effected before their political subjection was attempted.
The reputation, too, for justice and moderation enjoyed by the early
Ottoman sovereigns was no insignificant factor in conciliating the
goodwill and blunting the opposition of nations, who might under
different conditions have opposed a more serious resistance to the
advance of the Ottoman armies. Sixty years before the appearance of
the Turks before Constantinople, the people of the ancient kingdoms
of Roumania were called upon to choose between the Magyars—who,
in conformity with their traditional policy, desired to Magyarise
Wallachia—and the Ottoman sovereign, who offered the inhabitants the
enjoyment of their religious and civil liberty. They did not hesitate
between the two, and Mircea signed, with the Sultan Bayazid, the first
capitulation of Roumania (1393). Twenty‐six years later, in 1419, the
Servian ruler Brankovich, pressed by John Hunyadi, ruler of Hungary,
to join him in an alliance against the Turks, invited him to state the
policy in respect to religion that he proposed to adopt, in the event
of victory attending their joint military efforts. Hunyadi answered
without periphrasis, that the Servians would have to adopt the Catholic
worship. Brankovich then addressed a similar question to Mehemet I. “I
propose,” replied the latter, “to build a church next to every mosque,
and proclaim that every one shall be at liberty to follow his own
worship and religion.” Brankovich rejected the Hungarian alliance, and
declared himself the vassal of the Turkish Sultan.
But, it has been contended, the condition of the Christian populations
(_Raias_) of the countries actually conquered by Islam was very
different; and there is even a widespread popular belief that these
populations were forced to “opt” (to use a modern phrase) between the
religion of the conquerors and death, the poll‐tax (_kharadj_) being
the money composition imposed in commutation of the death sentence.
Nothing can be more erroneous. The _kharadj_ was the tax imposed on the
Christian population in lieu of the military service and other similar
duties from which they were exempted, disabilities generally regarded
by them as privileges, and in consequence of which they have increased
and multiplied and become rich and prosperous in the land. An entirely
false interpretation has been given to a passage in the Koran, which
was even quoted by the Austrian plenipotentiaries at the Conference
of Niemirow, in 1737, in support of the “Death or Koran” theory here
referred to. The true answer, which indeed is obvious from the context,
was given by the Ottoman negotiators on this occasion, viz., that the
text quoted applied only to idolaters and not to the “people of the
Book.” Anyone who knows anything of the religion of Mahomet is aware
of the important distinction recognised therein between the “people of
the Book” (_kitabi_) and idolaters (_medjous_), and knows that whereas
little mercy, it is true, was shown to the latter, the former were
included in the Dar‐ul‐Islam (the house of Islam), where they formed an
integral portion of the empire, and that the true Mahomedan was taught,
with respect to the latter, that “their substance is as our substance,
their eyes as our eyes, and their souls as our souls.” The fable, too,
that the murder of a Christian by a Mahomedan was considered by the
Cheri (sacred law) as a trivial offence, and was visited by a lighter
punishment than the same crime committed on the person of a Mussulman,
is disposed of by the _Fetva_ delivered by the Mufti (Supreme Judge
of the Sacred Law), and quoted by Cantimer[1] in answer to the
question, “What should be the penalty if eleven Mussulmans murdered one
Christian?” “If the Mussulmans were one thousand and one in number,
instead of only eleven, they should all be put to death.”
So far indeed is it from being historically true that the conquered
Christian populations were forced by the sword to adopt the religion of
Mahomet, that when Selim I. desired, for reasons of what he considered
long‐sighted policy, so to convert the Christians of the Balkans, he
was stopped short in the attempt by a _Fetva_ of the Sheik‐ul‐Islam,
Zenbilli Ali Effendi, who pronounced such a proceeding to be contrary
to the Koran and the Cheri (sacred law), and the attempt was
accordingly abandoned.
It may be remarked, in passing, that history does not relate that
Cromwell was ever diverted from a policy similar to that from which
Selim was deflected, or hampered in his enactment of the penal laws
in Ireland by any such scruples or protests on the part of the
ecclesiastical authorities of his day. However that may be, the policy
of the Ottoman sovereigns with reference to the conquered Raias was
the exact opposite to that popularly supposed. Nor was the policy
actually adopted the result of any idiosyncracy or peculiar generosity
on their part. It was in strict obedience to the injunctions of the
Prophet, and in conformity with the policy pursued by himself in the
“letters patent,” accorded to the Christians (_nassara_) on the 4th day
of Moharem of the year 11 of the Hegira. It was in fact the fixed and
settled policy of the Mussulman political system.
In proof of this position some European authorities, by no means
particularly inclined to the Ottoman cause, Montesquieu for example,
may be quoted. This author bears testimony to the happy change effected
in the condition of the Greek population of the empire after the
occupation of their capital by the Turks: “The people,” he says, “in
place of that continued series of vexations which the subtle avarice
of the Byzantine Emperors had devised, were now subjected to a simple
tribute, easily paid and lightly borne, happy in having to submit to
even a barbarous nation (_sic_) rather than to a corrupt government
under which they suffered all the inconveniences of a fictitious
liberty with all the horrors of a real servitude.”
The reports of the Venetian ambassadors, and the narratives of
travellers in the sixteenth century, like La Motraye, offer concurrent
testimony to the tolerance and moderation of this “barbarous nation.”
“The other (_i.e._ the Christian) subjects of the Empire,” says La
Motraye, “enjoy all the liberty of conscience that they can desire.
They go to the churches and pilgrimages and practise all the rights of
their religion, without fear or molestation. The same thing applies
to their commerce and temporal affairs. They have no dread of being
deprived of the fruits of their labours, which they enjoy without let
or hindrance.”[2]
Compare with this condition of the Greek Raias of the Ottoman Empire
that, for instance, of the Greek population of Chio under Genoese
domination, as described by Genoese writers themselves, and quoted by
Mr Fustel de Coulanges, where the unfortunate population, in addition
to daily exactions and injustices, were compelled four times a year, at
Christmas, Easter, Whitsunday, and the Feast of the Circumcision, to
attend a ceremony, best described as “a feast of humiliation,” at which
their clergy and chief citizens were summoned to the palace of the
Podesta, where a herald, mounted on a stand, with a wand in his hand,
read four prayers for the Pope, the Emperor, the Republic of Genoa, and
the family of the Justiniani, and obliged the assembled Chiotes, at
the end of each prayer, to answer in responsive and quasi‐enthusiastic
acclamations; these poor Chiotes being thus compelled to acclaim and
pray for the Pope—their greatest enemy—the Emperor they knew nothing
about, the Republic that had subjected them, and the family of the
Justiniani whom they detested, representing as it did the “Maona” (a
financial company) that ruthlessly pillaged them.
Take again the case of the Candiotes under the domination of the
Venetians, in which the Greek population of the island did not hesitate
to conspire with the Turkish besiegers in order to deliver their
capital into their hands, and thus free themselves from the oppression
of the Italian Republic.[3]
Even the Greeks of the Morea complained bitterly of the religious
persecution of the Venetians, whereas, said they, “the Turks allowed
us all the liberty we required.”[4]
These quotations, which could be multiplied _ad infinitum_, will
probably suffice. It was indeed the universal cry of all the Christian
population in the East, from the middle of the fifteenth century to the
beginning of the eighteenth—“A thousand times rather the Turks than
the Latins.”
That corruptions gradually grew up in the land of the Osmanli; that
perversions of the law crept into its practice, and that prejudices,
engendered by ignorance, created abuses which in earlier days were
sternly repressed, it is not intended here to deny. Indeed it is the
contention of this book that such perversions, the causes of which
it will be its purpose to trace, did spring up, as rank weeds, in
the Ottoman system; but what is strenuously asserted, and what will,
it is hoped, be proved, is that they formed no part or parcel of the
original Ottoman Constitution, but were, on the contrary, excrescences
in that system, violations of its spirit and essence; and further, that
the efforts of the reforming party in the nation, from the days of
Selim III. to the accession of Abdul Hamid II., through an apostolic
succession of patriots and statesmen—including the Keuprulu Mehemets,
the Reshids, the Aalis, the Fuads and the Midhats—were directed to the
end of restoring the spirit of that Constitution, with such adaptation
of it to the requirements of the day as the experience, science and
political conditions of the world required.
Mehemet II., from the moment he sheathed his sword on victory being
assured, manifested his determination that the lives and properties of
the conquered populations should be respected, and, in order to give
weight to his orders to that effect, took immediate measures to offer
a conspicuous example of respect for the religion of his new subjects
by his conduct as its hierarchical chief. He summoned the Greek
Patriarch (_Roum milleti patriki_) to a solemn Divan, stepped down from
his throne, and breaking through all established usage, advanced ten
steps to meet him, took him by the hand, and seated him next to himself
in the place of honour, delivering into his hands, as a symbol of
power, a golden sceptre, which to this day is carried in processions on
occasions of great ceremonies, investing him with unlimited authority
over all Orthodox schools, monasteries and churches, and with judicial
and administrative functions over all his co‐religionists.
Such a delegation of power was the nearest approach to the
establishment of an _imperium in imperio_ as is afforded in history,
with, let it be added, all the weakness that attaches to such a
_régime_, as was subsequently too clearly proved by the pernicious use
made of these privileges by a foreign Power, in founding on them a
claim to interfere in the internal affairs of the empire, and in using
them as a lever to overthrow it.
But wise or unwise, such at any rate was the policy adopted by the
Sultans of Turkey towards their Christian subjects, and the legend of
conversion by the sword must be relegated, with so many similar fables
with respect to Turkey, to the mythology of history.
From the foundation of the empire, and under the ægis of its
government, the Hellenisation of the Raias, under the authority of
the Patriarch of the Phanar, proceeded apace throughout the country.
So effectually indeed was this taking place, that the very name of
Slav, or Bulgarian, implying as it did an inferior social status, was
gradually falling into disuse, and the prouder appellation of “Roum,”
or Greek, substituted for it.
It is probable that another half‐century of this process would have
blotted out the very name of Slav, had not a new Power appeared on
the world’s stage, introducing a new factor in the Eastern problem,
and profoundly modifying its conditions. This was the rise of Russia
as a world Power, under the rule of that extraordinary man of genius,
Peter I. After finally breaking the power of Sweden at the great battle
of Pultava, and after adding Livonia, Esthonia, Ingria, Finland, and
Lithuania to his already vast dominions, and founding a capital with
a maritime outlet on the Northern Seas, he turned his ambition to
the sunny lands of the South, which the legend of the marriage of
a Byzantine princess with a Russian _Kneze_ had already annexed in
imagination to the Empire of Moscovy.
This is the place to refer to an historical event which has more than
a passing interest, as it may be said to be the source and origin of
the undeviating policy of Russia in her dealings with Turkey. At the
historical interview between Peter the Great and Cantimir, Voivode of
Moldavia, the latter initiated the Russian Czar into the secret of the
Eastern problem, and explained to him the profit that might be derived
from taking adroit advantage of the privileges of self‐government
enjoyed by the Christians in the East, and from the steady pursuit of a
policy exploiting this autonomy to the best advantage.
The lesson here learnt was never forgotten, and the political strategy
here determined on became henceforth the very keystone of Russia’s
policy in regard to Turkey.
Whether the famous will of Peter the Great be apocryphal or not,
as historically speaking it probably is, there is no doubt that it
expresses, with prophetic instinct at any rate, the great lines of
policy that have ever since been pursued with reference to Turkey by
all Peter’s successors.
Two distinct phases have marked the manner of Russia’s dealings
with the Christians of the East, although those dealings have been
undeviating in their aims and in general plan of attack on the Ottoman
Empire.
The first phase was marked by a close alliance with a Greek Patriarch
and his Metropolitans, and a general identification of views between
the Russian and Greek propaganda.
The Greek liturgy and the Greek priesthood were accepted without
a question, whilst portraits of the Czar, with the superscription
“Emperor of the Greco‐Russians,” were freely circulated by the Greek
clergy among their flocks. Colonel Repnin’s plot, in 1837, took
place in connivance with the Greek Patriarch, and a few years later
Marshal Munich was received by the peasants of Moldavia with the
Greek archbishop and his clergy marching at their head. The convents
and monasteries in Moldavia, Wallachia, Servia, and Montenegro were
used as _dépôts_ for arms, and monks were not the least audacious
of the leaders of the revolutionists. Piccolo Stefano in Servia
and Montenegro, Papazoglou in Greece, and Gamana in Wallachia, put
themselves at the head of armed bands, that were joined by others from
across the frontier. This alliance continued until Russia, having by
her victories and prestige acquired the position of the recognised
leader of the anti‐Turkish movement, was strong enough to dispense with
the Greek alliance and to champion the cause of pure Slavism undiluted
with Hellenism.
The second phase of Russian policy in the Slav provinces was marked
by the feverish activity of the Panslavic Committees of Bucharest,
Kischnoff, Moscow and Kieff, the cynical intrigues of the Russian
ambassadors at Constantinople, and the fanatical articles of Katkoff
in the _Moscow Gazette_, the aim of all which was to give a national
direction to the Slavic movement in the Turkish provinces. The
nationalisation of the religion of the people, the substitution of
the authority of national Exarchs as heads of their churches, in the
place of the Greek Patriarch, and of a native clergy educated in
Russia in the place of that nominated at the Phanar, were the measures
called for, and successively adopted, to stimulate a movement that now
embraced all Slav dependencies of Turkey in its action. The pretext of
protecting and securing the privileges of the Christian communities
in the Turkish Empire was finally dropped, and the liberation of
the oppressed nationalities of the South‐West of Europe became the
watchword of the new propaganda.
All the machinery of the heavily subsidised Panslavic Committee was
set in motion; band after band was raised and sent across the frontier;
rebellion was openly preached, and the ignorant peasantry were deluded,
by arguments which they did not understand, to complain of grievances
which they did not feel.
The answer to the question of how such an encroaching and cynically
pursued policy, violating as it did every principle of international
law and comity in its dealings with a neighbouring nation, was
possible—in a century, too, that was roused to indignation against
a not dissimilar but entirely unofficial raid in South Africa—must
be sought in the unfortunate condition and weakness of the Ottoman
Empire that exposed it, almost defenceless, to the attacks of its
powerful neighbour, and dispensed the latter from even the decencies of
international intercourse as practised among civilised nations.
This weakness in its turn was the result, as this work is specially
intended to show, of corruptions and perversions that had crept into
an originally admirable Constitution, and had produced a paralysis of
all its important functions, placing its nation almost as much at the
mercy of its enemies as had the _Liberum Veto_ the fair land of Poland.
The successive steps of these innovations must now be rapidly traced.
When the conquering energies of the new empire were exhausted, and its
victorious armies checked under the walls of Vienna by Sobieski and
his Poles, and the maritime power of its fleet broken by Don John of
Austria’s victory at Lepanto, a new phase was entered upon in which
internal re‐organisation took the place of external conquest.
The latter half of the sixteenth century was devoted to attempts to
organise the empire on quasi‐feudal principles. It was divided into
_timars_ and _zeamets_ (fiefs), represented by the great feudatories,
the Derebeys. This was the first serious innovation, involving a
perversion of the cardinal principle of the Ottoman Constitution,
which was in spirit and essence purely democratic; and when the
counter‐revolution took place, and the Sultans determined to get rid
of the Derebeys, so as to establish their own exclusive power, the
mischief was already done, for the old principle of democracy, as
understood by the companions of Othman, was by this time seriously
impaired by the long disuse of its ancient rights and functions; so
that this counter‐revolution, instead of restoring the old order of
things, only redounded to the exclusive profit of autocracy. Nothing
but the Porte (that is the Government), and the traditional authority
it exercised, now stood in the way of the complete absolutism of
the Sultan, and, owing to the veneration of the Ottoman people for
their sovereigns—a veneration founded partly on religious, partly on
secular, sentiments, and due in no small measure to the exceptional
merits of their early rulers—the Sultans entered on the struggle for
absolutism equipped with superior advantages. Having no fear of popular
encroachments before their eyes, or of popular passion directed
against their persons, they could devote their entire thoughts and
energies to the task of dominating the Porte and monopolising power in
the State.
The struggle of these two contending forces, the Palace and the Porte,
continued for a long time, with alternate preponderance on either
side, a strong Sultan and a weak vizier inclining the scales towards
autocracy, whilst a strong vizier with a weak or luxurious Sultan,
redressed the balance to the other side. The Keuprulu Mehemets,
Reshids, Aalis and Fuads left the impress of their minds on the
Ottoman policy and administration, whilst a host of so‐called Grand
Viziers—whom it would be superfluous to name singly, inasmuch as
their collective name is legion—were the mere registers of the will,
and instruments of the caprices, of their masters. The Sultan Abdul
Medjid counted with Reshid Pasha, and Abdul Aziz with Aali and Fuad,
as long as they were alive; but it was reserved for his successor,
after he had suppressed a Constitution that he had sworn to observe as
the very condition of his mounting to the throne, to brush all checks
and counterpoises of every kind aside, and to set up a pure, unmixed
despotism, based on caprice and corruption alone. Such a system of
government had been hitherto unknown to the Ottoman Constitution, was
emphatically denounced by the prophets, was contrary to the express
provisions of the Sacred Law, was repudiated by Mehemet II. and all the
early Sultans as well as Caliphs of Islam, and ran counter to all the
traditions of the Ottoman people.
Simultaneously with the beginning of this fatal perversion and this
gradual absorption by the Sultans of all power in the State, another
change was taking place, closely connected with it, and aggravating all
its worst effects.
The high character of the early Sultans of Turkey—to which all
contemporary authorities, Christian and Mahomedan alike, bear
testimony—had, as has been said, profoundly affected the Ottoman
character. Their fervid loyalty to their rulers sprang in no small
measure from the lessons inculcated by their early history and their
most cherished traditions. Now, up to the reign of Selim II., the
Sultan of Turkey received a very superior education. They were not
merely patrons of learning, but often themselves men of letters of
no mean order. Mehemet II., the conqueror of Constantinople, was a
distinguished poet; Selim I., a poet and a litterateur, prided himself,
above all his prerogatives, on being the patron of men of letters
and of science. This pursuit of science and learning was, moreover,
in strict conformity with the spirit and letter of the Koran. “Seek
science, even if it be in China”; “The wise and learned are the heirs
of the Prophet,” are not isolated texts in a book teeming with passages
of a similar kind. The early Caliphs, too, of Bagdad and Cordova, the
Abdur Rahmans, Solimans, and Haroun el Reshid, were living proofs and
typical examples of enlightened Mahomedan teaching.
But from the middle of the seventeenth century a change came over the
spirit of the Sultanate in Turkey. Instead of identifying themselves
with the life of their people and priding themselves on being the light
that guided them, the Sultans now retired into the harems and gave
themselves up to a life of ease and indulgence utterly foreign to the
habits and principles of their great predecessors. They surrendered the
reins of government into the hands of their Kizlar‐Agassi (chiefs of
eunuchs), or Bostandji Bashi, and as one favourite succeeded another,
or one palace clique displaced another, so vizier followed vizier
in rapid and bewildering succession. All the corrupt and turbulent
elements in the State were now unchained, justice was sacrificed to
private interests, the muscles of the State were relaxed, and its most
vital interests neglected and ignored. To such a pass had things come
in this “State of Denmark,” that when at last a reforming Sultan arose
in the person of Selim III., he had to pay with his life his reforming
ardour, and leave to his successor, Mahmoud II., a task almost beyond
human strength to accomplish. The reigns of the next three Sultans
after Selim are the history of honest, though intermittent, struggles
against the fatal legacies of the past two centuries, and of many
abortive attempts to grapple with the evils that a departure from the
primitive Constitution of the Empire had entailed on it, aggravated as
these evils were by revolutions organised across its borders, and the
systematic intrigues and almost uninterrupted hostility of its nearest
neighbours.
But in following the evolution of the struggle between autocracy and
the Ottoman people, and endeavouring to trace its origin, we have been
anticipating the chronological order of events. We must now return to
the narrative of the military movement of the eighteenth century, from
the time that Peter the Great turned the energies of his diplomacy and
his armies in the direction of the Ottoman provinces.
The first collision between the armed forces of Turkey and Russia ended
unfavourably for the latter. By the treaty of Falksen (1711), Russia
was compelled to restore Azov, that she had seized, and to undertake to
abstain from meddling in the affairs of Poland. But for the treachery
of Baltadji Mehemet Pasha, it is probable that this first campaign
would have ended still more disastrously for Russian arms, and possibly
the final partition of Poland would have been averted. That unhappy
country found, at this crisis of her history, in the Sultan of Turkey
her sole champion and defender among the sovereigns of Europe, and her
name figured for the last time in history in a public instrument in
which her rights were safeguarded by a Mahomedan sovereign against the
deadly machinations of her Christian neighbour.
It was certainly unfortunate for the Ottoman Empire—and it may
possibly not have been altogether fortunate for the rest of
Europe—that the rise of the power of Russia should have been
synchronous with the period of the greatest weakness of Turkey.
Russia’s principal attacks on the integrity and independence of Turkey
were skilfully timed so as to coincide with the moment when that empire
was in the throes of internal revolution, and could offer the least
resistance to an external foe. At the time of Mahmoud II.’s accession
to the throne, after the murder of Selim III., the accumulation of
difficulties and dangers that beset the empire were such that it
seemed as if nothing short of a miracle could prevent its complete
destruction. It required at any rate some very potent principles of
internal strength and cohesion to resist the centrifugal forces in
full activity at that crisis. Servia was in open revolt under Michel
Obrenowitz, Egypt was in the hands of the able and ambitious Mehemet
Ali, Arabia was in the effervescence of a Wahabee rising, the Pasha of
Janina had raised the standard of revolt, and the Governor of Widdin,
the famous Pasvan Oglou, had proclaimed his independence, and—most
serious danger of all—the insurrection of Greece, supported by a
consensus of enthusiasm in Europe, threatened the integrity of the
empire; all this, too, at the very moment when the military forces of
the empire were undergoing the complete re‐organisation which Selim had
begun, and Mahmoud was resolved to carry out. This revolution, for it
was nothing less, consisted in the abolition of the ancient corps
of Janissaries and the substitution for it of a regular force (the
_Nizam_) drilled and organised on the European model.
The Janissaries from being a redoubtable _corps d’élite_ recruited
from Christian youths, who embraced the military as a life‐long
profession, and were imbued with a military spirit which proved its
worth on the hard‐fought fields of Mohacs, Nicopolis and Cossovo, had
become through successive relaxings of the bonds of discipline and
the ruin of its military _esprit de corps_, nothing but an unruly
Pretorian Guard, a greater terror to the sovereign and to peaceful
citizens than to the enemies of the empire. The gratuities that they
were accustomed to receive on the accession of a new Sultan, and the
licensed pillagings that invariably ensued on these occasions, were
irresistible temptations to them to render this event as frequent as
possible, and they consequently deposed sovereigns and proclaimed
new ones almost at their will. The privileges, moreover, that they
wrested from the terrified sovereigns, especially after the death of
Soliman I.—such as the right to marry, to desert barrack life (their
_odjaks_), and to pursue trades and industries—completely changed and
deteriorated their martial character, and from the victorious soldiery
that they were in the days of Ilderim Bayazid they became nothing but
a turbulent militia. At last the scandal caused by their depredations
and violence became intolerable, and their disbandment was loudly
demanded by public opinion in all classes of the population. Selim
III. determined to suppress them, and, as a necessary preliminary,
commenced the re‐organisation of the naval and military forces of the
empire by inviting French engineers to build ships of war, and French
officers to drill and discipline a new army on European principles.
Unfortunately Bonaparte’s expedition to Egypt, and the declaration
of war that ensued between France and Turkey, recalled these military
instructors before the work of instruction and re‐organisation was half
completed. It was these threatened Janissaries who, on their return to
Constantinople from an expedition to Syria, willingly lent themselves
as instruments of the ambition of the Sultan’s brother, Mustafa, and
who deposed and finally murdered Selim. But the deposed sovereign,
in his retirement and before his death, found time and opportunity
thoroughly to imbue with his reforming enthusiasm his cousin Mahmoud,
and he, on ascending the throne, determined, as the only means of
saving the empire from ruin, and in spite of the menacing attitude
of the new Czar Nicholas of Russia—who inaugurated his accession by
sending an Ultimatum to Constantinople—to carry out unflinchingly
the whole programme of reforms conceived by Selim. At a Grand Council
(_Divan_) assembled in 1826, a unanimous vote was passed in favour of
the total suppression of the Janissaries, and shortly afterwards, the
decree being resisted by the mutinous soldiery, they were surrounded
and overpowered, and in the massacre that ensued this famous Pretorian
Guard finally disappeared.
The organisation, however, of the regular forces (_Nizam_), which were
to take their place, being only half complete, it was just at the
moment when the military organisation of the empire was undergoing a
radical transformation that the new Sultan was called upon to face
all the complications of internal revolution and foreign wars that
confronted him on his accession. Mahmoud, however, set resolutely
about the task, and a certain measure of success attended his first
efforts. The Pashas of Widdin and Janina were successively reduced to
subjection, and by the help of the Pasha of Egypt who had not yet
thrown off his allegiance, the Morea was reconquered by the troops
of Ibrahim Pasha, and Greece would undoubtedly have been restored to
her position as the Western horn of the Ottoman Crescent but for the
forcible interference of Europe and the military expedition of Marshal
Maison.
By a protocol, signed at St Petersburg, on 4th April 1826, Greece was
declared an autonomous and vassal State; but after the rejection by
the Sultan of the collective mediation of the four Great Powers (5th
February 1827), Austria, France, Great Britain and Russia (Protocol
of London), and the destruction by the allied forces, without the
formality of a declaration of war, of the Turkish fleet at Navarino
(1827), immediately followed by a declaration of war on the part of
Russia, and the campaigns of Diebitch in Europe, and Paskiewitz in
Asia Minor, terminating in the disastrous Treaty of Adrianople (14th
September 1829), Mahmoud had no choice but to consent in the following
year (1830) to the creation of Greece into an independent kingdom, an
arrangement confirmed by the Treaty of London on the 13th July 1841.
The still more serious revolt of Mehemet Ali—imperilling as it
did not only the integrity of the empire, but the solidarity of
Islam—immediately followed. On the Ottoman sovereign refusing to
concede the government of Syria to Mehemet Ali, in return for his
services in the campaign against Greece, the latter, picking a quarrel
with the governor of the coveted province, quickly invaded Syria, and,
defeating the Ottoman troops in a great battle at Konia, compelled the
Sultan to agree to a truce (credited with the name of peace), whilst
both sides prepared for an early resumption of hostilities. When this
took place the Egyptian troops were again successful in a decisive
battle at Nezib (24th June 1839), which placed the whole of Syria,
up to the walls of Acre, in the possession of the victorious Pasha of
Egypt.
Russia was, of course, too alert in following the traditional policy
in regard to Turkey not to profit by these distractions, and it was
at this mortal crisis of the Ottoman Empire that she stepped in and
secured the secret clauses of the Treaty of Unkiar Iskelessi (8th July
1833), by which she bound Turkey to an offensive and defensive alliance
that was to last for eight years, and to exclude all flags but her own
from passing through the Bosphorus.
These events, however, at last brought England and Austria into the
field, and an English fleet under Napier appeared before Alexandria,
and an English force under Sydney Smith before Acre (Saint Jean
d’Acre). Mehemet Ali, who was now deserted by France, was thus obliged
to sign the Convention of Alexandria, by which Egypt was restored to
the suzerainty of the Sultan, with, however, the viceroyalty of the
country made hereditary in his family. By the Treaty of London (13th
July 1841), this arrangement became part of the public law of Europe,
and at the same time the clauses of the Treaty of Unkiar Iskelessi were
revised, and the neutrality of the Straits was solemnly reaffirmed.
Six days after the disastrous battle of Nezib (June 25, 1839), the
Sultan Mahmoud died, and was succeeded by his son, Abdul Medjid. The
youthful sovereign, who was only seventeen years old, in spite of the
misfortunes that had befallen his country, or, perhaps, rather on
account of them, resolved to persevere steadily in the course of reform
initiated by his two predecessors. Fortunately he possessed in Reshid
Pasha a great Minister, who shared and seconded, and perhaps prompted,
the reforming ardour of his master; and on the 3rd November 1839 an
Imperial Rescript, the famous Hatti Humayoun of Gulhané, proclaimed
the following reforms for the whole empire:—
I. A guarantee of life and honour to all Ottoman subjects, without
distinction.
II. A regulation of taxation so as to put an end to arbitrary
exactions.
III. The equality of all before the law.
IV. Public instruction to be secularised.
V. The slave trade to be abolished.
VI. The decentralisation of the provincial governments, and a
separation of civil, military, and fiscal functions.
This great charter was certainly not intended by its author to be a
dead letter. It was, on the contrary, an earnest attempt to grapple
with the new conditions of the empire, and to restore the spirit of its
ancient Constitution, whilst reconciling it to the new requirements of
the day.
This double purpose was clearly manifested in every line of the new
decree, the preamble of which ran as follows:—
“Every one knows that when the Empire was first founded, its laws and
precepts, which were of a high standard, were scrupulously obeyed.
Therefore the Empire grew in strength and grandeur, and all its
subjects, without distinction, attained to a high degree of ease and
prosperity. For the last five hundred years a succession of accidents
and divers causes have brought it about that men have ceased to
conform to the sacred code of laws and regulations that flow from
it, and therefore the force and prosperity of former days have been
converted into weakness and poverty—for a nation always loses all
stability when it ceases to observe its laws. These considerations
have been ceaselessly present to our mind, and since the day of
our accession to the throne the thoughts of the common weal, the
amelioration of the condition of the provinces, and the lessening of
the burdens of the people, have been the subjects of our constant
preoccupation. Moreover, if the geographical position of the Empire;
the fertility of its soil; the aptitude and intelligence of its
inhabitants; be considered, they will lead to the conviction that
if a ruler applies himself diligently to discover the efficacious
means to effect necessary reforms, the results that we hope to
attain, with the help of the Almighty, may be achieved in the course
of a few short years. Therefore, full of trust in the help of the
Almighty, and leaning on the intercession of our Prophet, we consider
it right and proper to set about, by the help of new institutions,
procuring for the provinces of our Empire the blessings of a sound
administration.”
Reshid Pasha, by order of the Sultan, set himself earnestly to the task
of translating the general principles enunciated in the Hatti Humayoun,
with special laws and regulations that should reduce them to practice,
and four years after its promulgation at Gulhané, the _Tanzimat_, or
regulations for the organisation of all the branches of administration,
was published throughout the empire. Under the four general heads:—
I. The Government proper (_Mejalice devleti aliie_);
II. The Administration (_Zaptié ve mulkie memourlari_);
III. Justice and Public Instruction (_Ylmie_);
IV. The Army and Navy (_Seifiie_),
it gave the most elaborate directions for the organisation of each
branch of the public service. Considering the condition of confusion
into which the administration of the country had fallen in the course
of ages, and the absence of any guiding principle in it, the _Tanzimat_
must be considered one of the most remarkable efforts of administrative
organisation ever displayed in any country, and a monument of the
genius of Reshid Pasha. It is not altogether without reason that he has
been called the “Richelieu of Turkey.”
But it does not suffice to decree great changes; it is in the endeavour
to reduce them to practice that the chief difficulty arises. And no
great wonder if in a country like Turkey, where vested interests had
grown around the old order of things; where conservative prejudices,
as in every country in the world, obstruct the path of reform; where
trained civil servants did not exist but had to be created, that the
execution of these important and all‐embracing reforms should not
have taken place by decree as by a magician’s wand, but required time
and patience for their realisation. Events, too, were taking place in
Europe which were destined to change the aspect of things and divert
the minds of statesmen from internal organisation to the necessities of
defending the existence of the national independence. The revolutionary
movement of 1848–1849 in Europe afforded a little respite to a country
outside the sphere of this movement, and it was just at this disturbed
period of the rest of Europe that Turkey enjoyed the greatest peace
and made the greatest progress in the work of re‐organisation. But
scarcely had the revolutionary effervescence calmed down in Europe,
and the fears connected with it been laid to rest, when the Emperor
Nicholas—who had finally suppressed the Magyar insurrection and
restored Hungary to the House of Hapsburg—turned his attention once
more to Turkey, and resolved on decisive action. To suppose that the
progress in organisation that was being effected in that country was
not entirely unconnected with this determination would be only to deny
that the arguments and reasons of State put forward by Pozzo di Borgo,
in 1828, were operative in the mind of the Emperor Nicholas twenty
years later:
“When the Imperial Cabinet examines the question as to whether the
moment had not arrived to take up arms against the Porte, some doubt
might possibly have existed as to the urgency of such a measure
in the minds of those who had not sufficiently meditated on the
effects of the sanguinary reform (destruction of Janissaries)
that the Ottoman ruler had just executed with such terrible force.
Now, however, the experience that we have just had ought to enlist
the sympathy of all in favour of the course that we have adopted.
The Emperor has put the new Turkish system to the proof, and His
Majesty has discovered in it a commencement of moral and physical
organisation which it never possessed before. If the Sultan has been
enabled to oppose to us a more spirited and regular resistance than
before, whilst scarcely able to put together the elements of his new
plan of reform and amelioration, how much the more formidable should
we have found him if he had had the time to give it more solidity.”[5]
However that may be, hardly had the Russian troops withdrawn from
Hungary than the Emperor Nicholas, addressing Sir Hamilton Seymour, the
English Ambassador at St Petersburg, dwelt on the moribund condition
of the Turkish Empire, and proposed to him its partition. Crete and
Egypt were to be the spoils of England, whereas Servia, Montenegro,
Wallachia, Moldavia, and Bulgaria were to fall to the share of
Russia. This offer was duly reported to the Cabinet of St James, and
categorically declined by it. The state of Europe at the time was
not unfavourable to the Czar’s designs. Austria was bound to Russia
by gratitude for important services rendered, and only Metternich
suspected her to be then capable of “stupendous ingratitude.” Prussia
was united to the Czar by ties of near kindred, and by her traditional
indifference to the affairs of the East. France having fallen into the
hands of a sovereign capable of reviving Napoleonic traditions, was
as much an object of suspicion to all the crowned heads of Europe as
by his _coup d’état_ he was to liberal opinion throughout the world.
The last thing that seemed likely, or even possible, was a coalition
between Napoleonic France and the England of Lord Aberdeen. The omens
seemed favourable for striking a decisive blow.
A quarrel in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem, between
Greek and Latin monks, afforded the desired pretext. After some
diplomatic haggling between the Porte and France, in which the latter
first put forward and then withdrew claims which would have afforded
a precedent and pretext for Russian pretensions, Prince Mentchikoff
suddenly appeared, with much bluster, at Constantinople, as the bearer
of an Ultimatum demanding the assent of the Porte, within the space of
five days, to a Russian protectorate over all the Orthodox subjects of
the Sultan in his dominions. Europe, startled by the brusqueness of
this action, as well as the serious import of the demand, endeavoured
immediately to interpose her mediation to avert a crisis. Sir
Strafford de Redcliffe and Mr de la Cour, who happened to be absent
from Constantinople on the arrival of Prince Mentchikoff, returned
precipitately to their posts, and, seconded by the Austrian Ambassador,
Prince Leiningen, spared no effort that ingenuity could devise to give
effect to their conciliatory instructions. But as no compromise could
possibly be found between the pretensions put forward in the Ultimatum
and what the Porte was willing to concede, Prince Mentchikoff had the
escutcheon removed from the Russian Embassy at Pera, and with his whole
suite quitted Constantinople.
Three weeks after this (31st May 1853), Count Nesselrode despatched
another Ultimatum reiterating the same demands, and giving the Porte
eight days within which to execute them. The only answer vouchsafed
to this document was the proclamation by the Sultan, on the 6th June,
of a new Hatti Cherif confirming the rights and privileges of all the
Christian subjects of the empire. The combined French and English
fleets, at the same time, received orders to sail to Besika Bay, and
although war was not formally declared, the Emperor Nicholas gave
orders for his armies to cross the Pruth and to seize the Danubian
principalities as a “material guarantee” for compliance with his
demands.
It was not till 28th September that war was formally declared between
Russia and Turkey, and that Omar Pasha received orders to summon the
Russian Commander to evacuate the principalities. The interval between
this period and the date of Prince Mentchikoff’s mission had been
employed by a lively diplomatic correspondence between Lord Clarendon
and Mr Drouyn de Lluys, on one side, and Prince Gortchakoff on the
other, relative to the interpretation of the seventh clause of the
Treaty of Kainardje, on which Russia based her claims to interfere with
the Christian subjects of the Ottoman Empire. The destruction of a
Turkish squadron by a superior Russian fleet in the harbour of Sinope
at last terminated this diplomatic interlude, and brought the armed
forces of England and France into the field. On the 27th December the
allied fleets entered the Black Sea, and an expeditionary force was
sent to Varna and the Dobrutcha.
Here is the place to note the influence exercised on the course of
events by the action of Austria.
It was one of the principal aims of English and French diplomacy at
this period to secure the co‐operation of the Middle Empire. By her
geographical position and the revived force of her empire, as well
as by the magnitude of her interests in the Eastern Question, she
seemed called upon to exercise a preponderant influence on the issue
of the coming struggle. It was even generally taken for granted that,
could her active co‐operation be secured, such powerful pressure
could be brought to bear on Russia as would secure the objects of the
Western nations without actual recourse to arms; and, at any rate,
that if Russia were still to persist in her policy of encroachment,
the military forces at the command of the coalition would be so
overwhelming as to compel her rapidly to retreat from the position she
had taken up. Austria was generally considered to hold the key of the
situation.
There was no lack of political motive on the part of Austria to bring
her into line with Western Powers. The free navigation of the Danube,
the arrest of the dangerous Panslavic propaganda of Russia, the curbing
of limitless ambition of her colossal neighbour, were undoubtedly
objects of State policy of the first magnitude. On the other hand,
strong dynastic sympathies, and the obligations of gratitude for
important services recently rendered, weighed heavily in the opposite
scales. The result of these conflicting motives was a line of conduct
which, whilst diplomatically supporting the contentions of the allied
Cabinets, seriously hampered their military resolutions.
Had Austria not placed her veto on the march of the allied armies
into Poland, that country would have become the battle‐field between
the forces of the East and West, and as far as human forecast can
determine, the whole face of Europe would have been changed, the
Eastern Question would have been settled for ever, and the nightmare of
Cossack preponderance lifted once for all from the shoulders of Western
civilisation.
Instead of prosecuting the war on the continent of Europe, an
expedition to the Crimea was resolved upon, and a French and English
army landed at Eupatoria, and after a victorious advance across the
Alma, and making a flank march to the south side of Sevastopol, they
invested that portion of the great arsenal of Sevastopol which after
two years’ siege and the taking of the fortress of Malakoff, at last
surrendered to the allied army.
On the 25th February 1856, a congress was assembled at Paris, and on
the 30th March the Treaty of Paris was signed by the plenipotentiaries
of Russia, Turkey, England, France, Prussia and Italy, by which Turkey
was admitted into the full benefits of international law, and into
the Concert of Europe, and all right of interference in her internal
affairs was expressly disclaimed and repudiated by all the Signatories.
Russia and Turkey were expressly debarred from maintaining any armed
forces in the Black Sea, and a small strip of Bessarabia was ceded by
Russia to the Danubian principalities.
This was followed by the proclamation of a new Hatti Cherif on the part
of the Sultan, which closed this particular chapter of the history of
Europe.
Before concluding this short epitome of the history of the Ottoman
Empire, and proceeding with the narrative of the life of Midhat Pasha,
the incidents of whose career begin at this point to be interwoven with
the general history of his country, it will be useful to cast a glance
at the state of Europe and the general trend of events and alliances
that succeeded the settlement of 1856.
The death of the Sultan, Abdul Medjid (1861), and the character
of his successor were the chief factors, as will shortly be seen,
that influenced the direct destinies of Turkey. Unfortunately, in a
country where absolutism had gradually become the established form of
government, this was, and could only be, the determining element in the
problem of government
Russia, defeated but not humiliated, or even seriously crippled in a
war which had, however, strained her resources, and absorbed by the
great measure of the emancipation of her serfs, which inaugurated and
rendered illustrious the reign of the successor of Nicholas, was,
to employ the now classic phrase of Prince Gortchakoff, “collecting
herself” (_La Russie se recueille_). This did not, however, prevent
her giving a free hand, and even officious support, to the Panslavic
Committees of Moscow and of Kieff, that now, through the promptings and
under the direction of Katkoff and his school, entered upon a militant
career, and the crafty Ignatieff was sent to Constantinople to defend
and support the machinations of these committees, and to play with
consummate astuteness on the weaknesses and vices of a sovereign who
possessed none of the qualities of his three predecessors, but was
remarkable only for an inordinate passion for expenditure and a morbid
jealousy of his autocratic power. His perfect sanity, moreover, became
more and more questionable.
With respect to France, from the first meeting of the plenipotentiaries
at Paris, in May 1856, it became evident that a change had come over
the spirit of the Court of the Tuileries. The representatives of France
no longer showed themselves as irreconcilable to the views of Russia as
was the case when Mr Drouyn de Lluys penned his famous despatches two
years before, and in the discussions that took place at the Congress,
and still more in the various Commissions appointed to settle the
details of the articles of peace, the envoys of France were found to
be constantly ranged on the side of Russia, whereas the views and
contentions of England and Turkey were invariably supported by the
representatives of Austria.
This new orientation of French politics, which continued to the time
of the Polish insurrection in 1862, was further emphasised by the
exceptional pomp and circumstances attending the French mission to St
Petersburg, on the occasion of the coronation of the new Czar. The
matrimonial and political _rapprochement_, too, between the House of
Savoy and the Napoleons, culminating in the war of 1859, was a further
cause of estrangement between France and Austria.
In compensation, however, for the gradual parting of the ways of French
and English diplomacy in the East, the Cabinet of Vienna seemed to have
reverted frankly to what may be called the normal policy of Austria
with reference to Turkey, and the policy of Metternich and Castlereagh
was for a time steadily and consistently followed by Buol and
Palmerston. This state of things continued until the double election
of Prince Couza in the Danubian principalities caused a rift in the
alliance.
To Austria everything connected with the free navigation of the Danube
and the political status of the provinces bordering on that great
artery is, and must ever be, State interests of the first magnitude.
To England, apart from their indirect bearing on the integrity
and independence of Turkey, these questions were only matters of
sentimental interest founded on academic sympathy with the general
principle of nationalities. This sentiment, however, called into
activity by the events unrolling themselves in Italy, was particularly
strong in England at the time when the question of the principalities
presented itself as a practical problem to the statesmen of Europe,
and found in the Prime Minister of the day, Mr Gladstone, one of its
keenest and most enthusiastic partisans. England completely severed her
policy on this occasion from that of Austria. Whether such conduct,
with reference to a branch of a much larger problem, was quite
consistent with an Eastern policy considered as a whole, and whether
such a deviation from the obligation of loyalty to an indispensable
ally was or was not responsible for much of what subsequently occurred,
is perhaps too delicate a question to be discussed here. Certain,
however, is it that the desertion of Austria on this occasion by
the ally she counted on in Eastern matters to maintain intact the
provisions of the Treaty of Paris, and the instability of English
foreign policy that it revealed, made a profound impression on the
minds of the Austrian Emperor and his counsellors, and justified in
their view the revolution that subsequently took place in the Eastern
policy of Austria. Placed as the Middle Empire is—between jealous
rivals and powerful neighbours, and with enormous and vital interests
to safeguard—it is obliged to lean on one system of alliance or
another, and what has been called “la politique du Cascole” is,
as it were, a necessity of her position, and even a condition of
her existence. When the events connected with the Herzegovinian
insurrection come to be narrated in these pages, the part taken in
them by Austria, and the _rôle_ played by her statesmen throughout
the long negotiations preceding the Russo‐Turkish War and during its
continuance, until the final act of the comedy enacted at Berlin, will
have to be clearly set forth in detail, for it was Austria that played
the chief part in all of them, and that finally secured the chief part
in the spoil.
This chapter, which only seeks to point out the particular
circumstances that determined a change of policy on Eastern matters on
the part of this empire, must be considered rather as an apology for,
than an indictment of Austria with respect to Turkey. Moreover, it is
the author’s aim throughout this work to narrate and explain events
according to the lights vouchsafed to him, rather than to accuse any
nation of bad faith or unjustifiable aggression with respect to his
country. A nation worthy to exist at all must exist by its own strength
and vigour, and not by the sufferance of its neighbours; and indeed
the only indictment which will be proclaimed in this book will be
against the descendants of the Othmans, Orkhans, Solimans, Bayazids and
Mahmouds who have turned their backs on the traditions of their faith,
and have allowed the muscles of the nation to be relaxed, and its
heritage to become the prey of the spoiler.
CHAPTER II
MIDHAT’S EARLY YEARS
MIDHAT was born at Constantinople in 1822. His father, Hadji Ali
Effendi, was a native of Rustchuk, and gave his son the usual education
provided by the local schools, until he was of an age to follow him in
his different displacements, first to Widdin and Lofdja, and afterwards
to Constantinople in 1836. A few years after this he obtained a
position in the Secretariat of the Grand Vizier’s office, whence he was
promoted to superior employment in the provinces. He remained two years
at Damascus, and then, after a short interval spent in Constantinople,
he proceeded, in 1844, to Konia, as secretary to Sami Bekir Pasha’s
Council. In 1849 he was nominated to the Presidency of the
_Medjlissi‐Vala_ (Grand Council of State) and promoted to the rank of
Sanie, which is the first rank in the Ottoman hierarchy, and in 1851
to that of Mutemaiz, with the functions of First Secretary to the
Grand Council.
Soon after this, difficulties in the provinces of Damascus and
Aleppo, connected with the Custom House, and with the conduct of
the Commander‐in‐Chief of the Army of Arabia, Kibrissli Mehemet
Pasha, necessitated the despatch of a public functionary with full
power to inquire into the irregularities, civil and military, which
were notorious in those provinces. Midhat was chosen for this
important and confidential mission. In the space of six months he
settled the question of the Customs in favour of the Government,
by which the sum in dispute, £T150,000, was restored to the Ottoman
Treasury, and a further surplus of £70,000 was secured. He further
fixed the responsibility for the insurrection of the Druses on the
Commander‐in‐Chief, Kibrissli Mehemet Pasha, and recommended his recall.
The courage and capacity of which Midhat gave proof in this mission
attracted to him the attention of the Grand Vizier of the day, the
famous Reshid Pasha, who appointed him to a confidential post in the
Superior Council of the State, which he occupied during the successive
Grand Vizierates of Reshid, Aali, and Great Rifat Pashas. This may be
considered the initiation of Midhat into political, as distinguished
from administrative, life. It was in this post that he assisted, in
1852, at the historical interview between Rifat Pasha, Turkish Minister
of Foreign Affairs, and Prince Mentchikoff, the special envoy of the
Emperor Nicholas, in the negotiations that preceded the Crimean War.
In 1854, Kibrissli Mehemet Pasha, who in consequence of Midhat’s
report had been dismissed from the command of the Syrian Army Corps,
became Grand Vizier. He now charged Midhat with the difficult and
delicate mission of pacifying the disturbed provinces of Adrianople
and the Balkans, and clearing them of the brigandage that infested
them. The organising genius of Midhat proved equal to the task. He
suppressed brigandage with a strong hand, and by restoring tranquillity
in this district he deprived the neighbouring States of all pretexts
for chronic complaints. To prevent the return of trouble he further
elaborated a whole plan of re‐organisation, which he submitted to the
approval of the Government at Constantinople, where Reshid Pasha had
again become Grand Vizier. The draft of this plan arrived at the
very time that Reshid and Aali Pashas were engaged in drawing up
regulations for the government of the _Eyalets_ (provinces), with a
view to their decentralisation. Midhat’s plan was accepted, and it
was decided that he should be nominated to the governorship of the
important province of the Danube (Bulgaria), when suddenly another
change of Ministry at Constantinople delayed the execution of the whole
plan of reform. In the meantime an appalling earthquake at Broussa had
caused terrible damage in that important city and much misery among
its inhabitants. Midhat was now despatched thither with a mission to
succour sufferers and to help to restore confidence among the terrified
inhabitants.
On his return from Broussa he was despatched as special commissioner
to inspect the provinces of Widdin and Silistria, which were in open
rebellion against the central authorities. Here Midhat, as he had
previously done in Syria, made a detailed report, pointing out the
faulty administration of the provinces, and fearlessly inculpating the
two Valis (governors).
This discharge of a public duty was met by the usual manœuvres of
inculpated Pashas. Their friends at the Palace bestirred themselves in
their favour, and induced the Sultan to reject the proposals of Midhat,
and to send a well‐known Ulema at Constantinople, Haireddin Effendi, to
the two vilayets in question, to make a further report in verification
or contradiction of that of Midhat. To the confusion and disappointment
of the friends of the incriminated Valis, Haireddin Effendi made a
report in every way confirming the views and recommendations, and
emphasizing the accusations of Midhat.
At this time (1858) Reshid Pasha died, and Aali Pasha, his successor,
obtained six months’ leave of absence for Midhat, to be spent in
travelling in Europe, with a view to the study of certain points
of European administration with which he desired to make himself
acquainted. Paris, London, Vienna, and Brussels were successively
visited in this short period of time, and much valuable information
obtained, both as to the spirit and working of European governments.
Midhat had by this time already acquired a certain reputation as a
successful provincial governor and whenever trouble in the empire
declared itself, his name recurred as a fit and proper person to be
despatched as special envoy or governor to pacify the province in
question. Kibrissli Mehemet Pasha had now again become Grand Vizier,
and as trouble of a serious kind had for some time been brewing in
the vilayet of Nish (Servia), where, in spite of the presence of an
imposing force of regular and irregular troops, insecurity of life and
property was rampant, and an alarming emigration of the inhabitants was
taking place, he nominated Midhat to the Governorship of this important
province (1861).
Midhat resolved to make an attempt to pacify the province without the
use of armed force, and to gain the confidence of the Bulgarians by
the redress of their just grievances. His first step was to invite the
notabilities of the different districts to conferences, to state their
complaints, and attentively examine with him the remedies that should
be applied. These grievances practically resolved themselves into two:
(1) the entire absence of roads and other means of intercommunication,
which made it impossible for the inhabitants—exclusively cultivators
of the soil—to find markets for their produce; (2) the rampant
brigandage that everywhere existed, rendering life and property
insecure. These two causes, it was, that induced the emigration into
Servia, which was assuming large proportions, where the Bulgarians
found among their fellow‐Slavs both greater security and more
favourable conditions of labour.
Midhat readily acknowledged the justice and reasonableness of these
complaints, and proceeded to strike a bargain with the notables. They
were to undertake to use their influence to pacify the country and
discourage emigration for two years, and Midhat engaged within this
time to carry out the reforms and improvements that were mutually
agreed upon between them. Midhat strictly carried out the terms of this
agreement. He ordered the troops back to their barracks, commenced
the great high road between Nish and Sofia with the byroads connected
with it, and by means of military patrols sent out in every direction,
brigandage very soon entirely disappeared from the country. Roads were
now being laid out in every direction, and bridges constructed over
the Morava and other rivers, so as to meet the requirements of an
agricultural population, and facilitate the outlet for their produce.
An elaborate system of block‐houses all along the Servian frontier put
an end to the incursions of armed bands of Servians, which had long
fostered and sustained disturbance in the province, and many Bulgarian
families who had emigrated into Servia now began to return to their
former habitations. Concurrently with these material ameliorations,
Midhat occupied himself with the solution of other economical and
moral problems that concerned the well‐being of the community. The
relations between proprietors and tenants of the soil had long been in
an unsatisfactory condition. Midhat convoked representatives of both
these classes to a conference, and with much pains, and after long
discussions, he succeeded in finding a means of reconciliation between
their opposing pretensions, to the satisfaction of both parties.
At Prisrend, in that part of the provinces inhabited by the Arnauts,
he was confronted with problems of a peculiar nature. Here a vendetta
(similar to the Corsican vendetta) existed among the unruly
mountaineers of Albanian descent. Midhat, faithful to his system of
working hand in hand with the inhabitants themselves, convoked an
assembly of notables of the district, and with their co‐operation, and
by their own initiative, instituted a permanent commission to settle
money compositions for bloodshed, and by this means he succeeded in
suppressing a vendetta that had existed for centuries among this brave
but unruly people. He further induced them to give up the practice
of carrying arms, and, for the first time in the history of the
provinces, to submit to Imperial conscription; he further organised
a _gendarmerie_, secured the peaceful collection of taxes, and put
an end to all religious persecution; schools, too, were established,
and hospitals for members of all religious denominations without
distinction. Thus the vilayets of Nish and Prisrend gradually recovered
the full enjoyment of tranquillity and peace, and Christians and
Mussulmans alike began to enjoy the prospect of returning prosperity.
In the provinces of Widdin and Silistria the problem of pacification
was complicated by a factor which rendered the solution far more
difficult. Here the continued and systematic interference of Russia by
means of her consuls and agents, supported by the Russian ambassador
at Constantinople, working hand in hand with the agents of the Slav
Committees, who were overrunning the country and preaching the gospel
of rebellion, created quite a new set of problems to be dealt with.
It was no longer local grievances to be redressed, but a political
propagandism to be faced.
Aali and Fuad Pashas, the successors of Reshid Pasha, appreciating the
administrative and reforming talents of Midhat, summoned him in 1864
to Constantinople, to consider with them a general organic law for
the government of the provinces of the empire (_loi des vilayets_),
and it was there resolved that the vilayets of Silistria, Widdin,
and Nish should be combined into a single government under the name
of the “Vilayet of the Danube,” and entrusted to Midhat. The Imperial
sanction to this appointment and to the organic reforms proposed was
obtained (in 1865) in spite of the opposition of the reactionary party
in Constantinople, headed by the Sheik‐ul‐Islam of the day, Saadeddine
Effendi, strenuously backed by Sourrouri Effendi Naib, an avowed
enemy of the new Vali, whom we shall meet with later on figuring, as
a reward for his zeal, and in acknowledgment of his impartiality, as
the President of the tribunal that tried and condemned Midhat. But the
influence of Fuad Pasha was sufficient to overcome all such opposition,
and Midhat forthwith entered upon his new and important functions.
It will be sufficient to give a summary account of the radical reforms
introduced by the new Vali in the government of this important province.
The whole vilayet was divided into seven distinct _sandjaks_
(districts), the sandjak into _cazas_ (cantons), and the cazas into
_nahies_ (communes), and in each of these centres councils were created
for the levying of taxes and local administration of the district.
Forced labour (_corvée_) was abolished; bridges to the number of
1400 were constructed; and 3000 kilometres (circ. 2000 miles) of
roads constructed; brigandage was effectually stamped out and a local
_gendarmerie_ raised, and agricultural banks, with a view of relieving
the small farmer from the exactions of the usurer, established. The
capital for these purposes was procured by an ingenious system, founded
on the cultivation of the public and waste lands, by which not only was
relief given to distressed and needy agriculturists, but a local fund
was created for important local improvements. Agriculture, the staple
industry of the inhabitants, soon began to flourish in consequence of
these wise and energetic measures, and with agriculture the affiliated
industries and commerce of the country. The navigation of the Danube,
the great artery of the province, next engaged the attention of the
Pasha, and soon two, and then four, vessels, flying the Ottoman flag
for the first time, made their appearance on this river. A postal
service was likewise started, and through the initiative of the
governor a manufactory of carriages established at Rustchuk, which
at the end of the very first year paid a dividend of 10 per cent.
Charitable institutions too were not neglected, and orphan asylums for
Christian and Mahomedan children alike were constructed at Rustchuk and
Sofia, and the pupils initiated in trades and industries.
The key of all these reforms, and the cardinal principle of this
administration, was to work hand in hand with the local authorities.
By their aid the valuation of all property held in the respective
districts was carried out equitably and fairly, and taxes founded
on this assessment were levied without complaint; and although the
salaries of responsible officials, such as the police and judges, were
considerably increased, and many vexatious taxes abolished, the new
revenue of the province showed a considerable and increasing surplus.
The prosperity of this large province under its new administrator could
not fail to attract the attention of the authorities at Constantinople,
and Midhat now received the congratulations both of the Sultan and
of the Sublime Porte. An Imperial Irade, moreover, enjoined all the
governors of the other provinces of the empire to apply in their
respective vilayets the same reforms that Midhat had introduced in
that of the Danube, a detailed plan and description of which had been
forwarded to Constantinople by Rifat Effendi, the secretary of the
vilayet (subsequently Grand Vizier).
So far everything seemed to go well, and a new era of prosperity seemed
about to dawn for the provinces of the empire generally. It is worth
while for those who really desire to obtain an inside view of the
working of Turkish absolutism, and to discern the secret springs that
move the Government of Turkey, and make themselves acquainted with the
hidden causes that have time after time wrecked the hopes of Turkish
reformers, to follow attentively what we are now about to relate, on
the authority, be it noted, of one in a position, if any one was, to
know the truth and put his fingers on the plague‐spot.
Midhat felt that his work would not be complete, nor would the return
of material prosperity suffice to attach his province permanently
to the Government of the Sultan, unless he applied himself as well
to the moral side of the problem and succeeded in counteracting the
manœuvres of the enemies of the empire to sow disaffection in the
minds of the youth of the province. One of the most effective devices
contrived by them with this view was the plan, pursued for many
years, of sending large numbers of Bulgarian youths to carry on their
studies at the Russian universities of Odessa, Kharkoff, and Kieff,
and these, on their return, became the chiefs of the staffs of the
active propagandists of Panslavic ideas among the youths of Bulgaria.
These missionaries of disaffection constituted one of the most serious
dangers to Ottoman sovereignty, and one of the most difficult problems
to deal with. Midhat determined to grapple with it, and with this view
he determined to establish in the principal centres of the province
schools and universities where the Bulgarian youths, Christians and
Mussulmans alike, should enjoy all the advantages of a first‐class
modern education without having to seek it abroad. The incidental
advantage of a fusion of Christian and Mussulman elements in the
country, under the inspiring influence of a common education, at an
age when friendships are most easily formed and generous sentiments
evoked, did not escape the sagacity of Midhat. The whole project
was explained by him in a detailed report to the Sublime Porte, the
expenses being provided half by the surplus revenues of the province,
and the rest by voluntary subscriptions.
When this project was made known at Constantinople, the person who most
readily seized the full import of it was General Ignatieff, the Russian
ambassador. It went directly counter to all the most cherished plans
and projects of the Panslavic party, of which he was the moving spirit.
There was nothing that he did not do to wreck the plan and upset the
Pasha. Unfortunately the nature of an absolute government and the
character of an Eastern autocrat afforded him ample means of action.
The interference of a foreign ambassador in the internal economy of a
province of the empire had nothing in it which appeared abnormal or
impertinent; such interference was consecrated by long usage and had
become chronic and accepted. Ignatieff began by representing to the
sovereign that the spirit of the reforms effected by Midhat in his
vilayet, especially the institution of local councils (which was of
the very essence of the reforms introduced), were in direct opposition
to the spirit of absolutism, and that the result would infallibly be
that little by little the province itself would become detached from
the body of the empire, and would claim its entire independence, as had
already happened in the case of Egypt. It is not certain, however, that
the ambassador would have gained his point, even with a sovereign so
tenacious of his prerogatives as was Abdul Aziz, had not an unfortunate
error of typography, eagerly seized on and exploited by Ignatieff,
played into the hands of the ambassador. In a passage of the official
journal of the province, the term “deputies” was inadvertently applied
to the members of the chief council of the vilayet. This apparently
trivial circumstance, the slip of a typographist, was sufficient to
turn the scale in the Sultan’s mind and to wreck the project. Abdul
Aziz refused his consent to the proposal, on the obviously insincere
pretext of the expense connected with it. Thus this crowning act of
Midhat’s work, the reform which above all others was calculated to
attach the Bulgarians to the central government and to destroy a
nest of disaffectation in the province, was defeated by a foreign
ambassador playing on the ignorant susceptibilities and autocratic
instincts of the sovereign of the country. If this were a single and
exceptional example of the working of autocracy, it might be passed
over in comparative silence, however regrettable it was in this
particular instance; but the whole modern history of Turkey shows
that such intervention was nothing less than a system of statecraft
whereby autocracy was cunningly worked for the ruin of the country in
as certain and deadly a way as was the _Liberum Veto_ of the Polish
constitution. The spontaneous caprices and whims of an autocrat are the
least part of the baneful effects of autocracy; it is in the shadows
that flit behind the throne, stronger than the throne itself, working
systematically on the ignorance and fears of the autocrat, with settled
purpose and in pursuit of settled plans, that lies, in the East at any
rate, the real curse of absolutism.
Simultaneously with this diplomatic action at Constantinople, order
was given to the Panslavic Committees established at Bucharest and
Kichenew to prepare for action in the field. Midhat’s agents had kept
him informed of the revival of agitation entertained by the agents of
these committees among the Bulgarian peasants, and he lost no time in
transmitting this information to the Porte.
[Illustration: 6 7 4 2 1 3 5
MIDHAT PASHA AND HIS SUITE IN THE GOVERNMENT OF THE PROVINCE OF THE
DANUBE.
1. Midhat Pasha.
2. “Inspecteur de la Cour Judiciare.”
3. “Juge du Cheri.”
4. Adib Effendi, Minister of Customs (1889).
5. Rifat Pasha, Grand Vizier (1897).
6. Raïf Pasha, Minister (1890).
7. Chakir Pasha, “Maréchal” (1878).]
On the 2nd May, 1867, Midhat received the following telegram from
Sistovo:—“Last night numerous armed bands crossed the frontier close
to Sistovo, and were immediately joined by other bands who were waiting
for them on this side of the frontier, and early this morning they
commenced operations by the horrible mutilation of five Mussulman
children, aged from eight to twelve, who were tending sheep on the
plains.”
The object and purpose of these barbarities was obvious: it was to
excite reprisals on the part of the Mussulman population, which would
afford a pretext to the enemies of the empire to fill Europe with an
outcry against Turkish barbarity and fanaticism. The same policy,
heralded by the same acts, ruthlessly pursued later on, did produce the
desired effect, and Bulgarian atrocities became a proverb and byword in
the world; but on this occasion the energy of Midhat, and the patience
and forbearance of the Mussulman population, defeated the purpose of
the conspirators. Midhat, immediately on receiving the above telegram,
embarked two companies of regulars on board a steamer and despatched
them to Sistovo, whither he accompanied them himself. He found the
whole population, Christian and Mussulman, in a state of the greatest
excitement, and his first care was to calm the effervescence and to
inspire confidence in the energy and resolution of the authorities.
The plan of the insurgents was to push on as rapidly as they could to
the Balkans, increasing their forces as they went along by the native
levies which had been organised by the committees for this purpose,
until they reached the monastery of Kapanbova, where a large _dépôt_ of
arms had been collected, and which was intended to be the headquarters
of the insurrection.
The presence of four battalions of regulars at Capriova prevented
the execution of this plan, and after suffering several defeats in
the field, the bands dispersed in various directions, closely pursued
by the troops and the local levies that had joined them. Midhat now
instituted a special tribunal, composed of six Mussulmans and six
Christian judges, to try the rebel prisoners, and the evidence given by
the prisoners themselves, clearly demonstrated that the invading bands
had been equipped and sent out by the Slav Committees of Bucharest
and Kichenew, and were acting in unison with corresponding committees
established throughout the province. By the unanimous vote of this
tribunal, sentences of death were passed on the leaders, and penal
servitude and minor punishment, according to their status and degree of
culpability, on all the rebels taken in arms. By these energetic means
the insurrection was effectually stamped out and tranquillity restored
to the province.
An outcry, however, was quickly raised in the European Press against
the “methods of barbarism” adopted to repress the insurrection, and the
Pasha was accused of ultra severity against Christian insurgents and
reprehensible leniency towards Mussulman offenders.
So far from this latter accusation having any real foundation, the
very composition of the special tribunal appointed to deal with
these troubles was a guarantee of its impartiality. Moreover, the
following fact will afford an example of the impunity enjoyed by the
Mahomedan criminals. In the course of these troubles two dead bodies of
Christians were found in a field near Biscara; a judicial investigation
was immediately ordered on the spot, and the result was that the
evidence pointed to a sergeant of _gendarmerie_, a Mussulman of the
name of Mehemet Tchavouch, as having committed the murder. Pressed
by questions Mehemet made a full confession, and he was thereupon
condemned to death and forthwith executed.
Midhat now turned his attention to the best means of anticipating
and guarding against similar raids and insurrections in the future.
He knew well that the central revolutionary committees at Bucharest
and Kichenew would not disarm, but would simply watch for a more
favourable opportunity to put their plans into execution. To garrison
the whole frontier with regular troops would expose the province
to large expenditure, and the troops, when called upon to act, to
calumny and misrepresentation. He accordingly conceived the plan of
organising a local militia of 40,000 men, recruited from all classes
of the population, Christian and Mussulman alike, to whom the defence
of their own localities should be entrusted, and they were to be
indemnified if called upon to act beyond the boundaries of their
district. By this means a cheap and effective force was provided
against all contingencies, and at the same time the confidence reposed
in the loyalty of the population generally received a conspicuous
demonstration. The defence of the line of the Danube was secured
in a similar manner. A succession of guard‐houses was established
throughout the length of the river, and their defence confided to a
river‐guard recruited equally from the Christian and Mussulman riverine
population.
So ingenious was the plan of organisation, that the term of service
for each guardsman did not exceed one month in ten years. The arms and
equipments were provided by voluntary subscription raised from all the
inhabitants of the province.
During all this time the greater the energy shown by Midhat in the
organisation, development and defence of this frontier province of the
empire, the greater became the determination of the Slav Committees to
undo and defeat his work.
After the late exploits of these committees in Bulgaria, Midhat had
organised a system of surveillance at the headquarters of these
committees, and information having reached him that emissaries had been
despatched from Galatz to Belgrade in order to organise a new raid
into Bulgaria, he ordered these emissaries to be closely watched and
followed in all their movements. On their embarkation at Rustchuk, on
board the Austrian vessel _Germania_, he sent photographs of them to
the Austrian Consul, with a request that the Ottoman authorities should
be allowed to examine the passports of the passengers. Accompanied
by an Austrian Consular Agent the Turkish authorities accordingly
proceeded on board, where they were immediately received by shots
from revolvers on the part of the two suspected agents, who had
barricaded themselves in the saloon of the vessel, and had determined
to resist arrest. After an indescribable scene of confusion among the
panic‐stricken passengers aboard, the Turkish _gendarmerie_, acting
with the consent of the Consul, succeeded in effecting the capture of
the agents, who were both mortally wounded in the encounter.
The capture of these revolutionary agents made a great noise in Europe.
General Ignatieff at Constantinople, seized on the circumstance as a
pretext to demand the recall of Midhat, accompanying the Servian Agent
to the Palace in the audience accorded to the latter, whose complaints
were founded on the fact that one of the captured agents was a Servian.
Midhat’s influence, however, was still in the ascendant, and these
intrigues remained for a time without effect.
Other means failing, a desperate and criminal attempt was now made
to get rid of this too energetic Pasha. Two attempts to assassinate
him followed in quick succession, the first at Rustchuk, where the
overseer of the training school fired a shot, fortunately without
effect, on the Pasha as he was walking in the school enclosure; and
the other by a Servian, who attempted to enter his service with the
view to assassinating him, and who made a full confession seriously
compromising two important personages in Servia. He was sent to
Constantinople, tried, and condemned to penal servitude for life, in
spite of the strenuous efforts of General Ignatieff in his favour.
Not very long after these stirring events (1868) Midhat was summoned
to Constantinople, where he was placed at the head of the Council of
State, and he was succeeded in the governorship of the province, for
which he had done so much, by Sabri Pasha, the deputy‐governor of Nish.
As President of the Council, Midhat marked his short tenure of that
office by the institution of a school of Arts and Sciences at Sultan
Ahmed, in Stamboul, and by the establishment of a bank for loans, with
the special purpose of relieving small employers from the tyranny of
usurers. This bank (Emniet Sandighie) still exists. It soon, however,
became obvious to Midhat that his system of usefulness in his new
ministerial position was strictly limited; his authority in matters
pertaining to his own office was constantly overruled on important
matters, especially those concerning finance, by the Grand Vizier,
acting on the authority of the Sultan, and this incompatibility of
views culminated on the question of Turkish railways, whereupon Midhat
insisted on resigning. Just at this time Nakieddine Pasha was dismissed
from the governorship of the province of Bagdad, and Midhat was
appointed Vali of Bagdad (1869).
Hardly had the new Vali reached his post, when he found himself
confronted with some difficult problems of quite a different order
from those he had dealt with on the Danube, but of a not less serious
description. The question of recruiting was the most urgent, and called
for immediate solution. The Arab tribes, turbulent and independent by
nature, had always shown themselves refractory to enlistment, and were
now in open revolt against its enforcement. One of the difficulties
of the situation consisted in the fact that the military authority
in the province was separated from the civil, and was in the hands
of the commander of the 6th Army Corps, Samih Pasha, whereas the
situation required all authority, military as well as civil, to be
concentrated in the hands of a single strong central authority. Midhat
did not hesitate at such a crisis to assume the full responsibility
of this concentration, and took immediate military steps to suppress
the insurrection by force. He ordered the city of Bagdad to be
surrounded by cavalry, and sent infantry and artillery to protect
the foreign Mission Houses and the non‐Mussulman quarters from the
fanaticism of the Arabs. He at the same time ordered the bridge over
the Tigris to be cut, so as to prevent intercommunication among the
rebels; and when these energetic measures had fairly intimidated the
Arabs, he offered them a general amnesty on condition of immediate
surrender. These conditions were now accepted, and the insurrection
suddenly collapsed, and no further resistance was offered to the
recruiting. The promptitude with which this dangerous rebellion was
suppressed was appreciated by the Porte, and a telegram was received
from Constantinople approving the measures he had taken, and placing
officially the supreme command of the 6th Army Corps in his hands.
The next serious difficulty was connected with the levying of taxes.
This had always been a difficult operation among the nomad tribes, of
which the population in a great measure consisted, and was the cause of
continual disputes and insurrections. Matters had, however, now reached
a crisis, for a colonel at the head of a battalion of regulars sent to
Divanie and Dogara to collect the tithes was surrounded by tribesmen
to the number of ten thousand men, and himself killed and his troops
killed or dispersed. The new Vali seized at once the seriousness of
the situation, for the encouragement which this success afforded the
tribesmen threatened to give rise to a general insurrection of all the
surrounding nomads.
It was necessary to avenge the defeat at once and to make a signal
example of the tribesmen concerned. Midhat accordingly ordered a large
force, consisting of seven battalions of infantry, four thousand
cavalry, with a complement of artillery, to proceed directly to Dogara,
under the command of Samih Pasha, whilst with three thousand chosen
troops he hastened himself to the disaffected district. A pitched
battle now took place between the Arabs and the troops, which resulted
in the complete defeat of the former and the capture of their chief.
A not unusual incident accompanied the close of the battle. A Shiite
Sheik, Abdul Kerim, was marching at the head of a considerable force
of tribesmen from the Shiite districts of Urfa and Aleppo to join the
rebels, when he received the news of their defeat. Pretending that he
was on the road to offer his services to the Government, he joined his
forces to those of the Vali, and accompanied the victorious troops on
their entry into Bagdad. A military tribunal was at once instituted to
try the rebels; the rebel chiefs were condemned and executed, but the
tribesmen, on the promise of future good behaviour, were released.
Midhat Pasha clearly discerned that if an end was to be put to these
chronic troubles, and these nomad tribes were to be reduced to anything
like permanent order, it was not sufficient to defeat them in battle,
and that a radical change had to be brought about in their general
status, and especially the conditions of land tenure in the country.
The Arab cultivator, for the most part, held his lands from the State
on the condition of giving three‐fourths of the produce to the State,
retaining one‐fourth for himself. Such a system naturally discouraged
agriculture and rendered all improvements in cultivation impossible.
The consequence was that, for the most part, the Arab shunned the
soil, preferring predatory to industrial modes of gaining his living.
Midhat determined to attach him to the soil by giving him rights of
proprietorship, and divided large tracts of land into plots, which were
offered for sale on easy and advantageous terms, special provision
being made against accumulation of plots into single hands. The success
of this policy was remarkable, and whereas the revenues of the State
increased, the turbulence of the tribesmen, and the risings which had
become chronic, greatly diminished.
The agricultural prosperity that resulted from these measures
stimulated other branches of industry and rendered it necessary to
provide outlets for the newly created surplus of the country. The
first step in this direction was to render navigable the Tigris and
Euphrates, the great arteries of the country, and to improve or create
the means of communication between their two banks, and between the
different towns situated along their course. The only service of the
kind that existed consisted of the boats of an English company plying
between Bagdad and Bussora. Midhat determined to start a service of
Turkish boats to supply adequately the needs now felt, in the same
way that he had formerly done on the Danube when he was Governor of
Bulgaria. He ordered the existing vessels to be repaired, new vessels
of a larger tonnage to be constructed, and coal _dépôts_ to be formed
at Mascat, Aden, Bender and Bushire; and now, for the first time in
history, steamers under the Ottoman flag were to be seen periodically
in the Suez Canal, on their way to Constantinople. The _Babel_, one of
these vessels, which had originally cost £T88,000 for construction,
was bought for the sum of £T33,000 from a bankrupt company, and
on its very first voyage between Constantinople and Bussora, which
coincided with the time of the pilgrimages, it cleared £T35,000—more
than sufficient to cover its purchase price. A net surplus of £T1000
a month resulted from this improved river navigation, and Midhat now
determined on extensive dredging works, with a view to extending the
navigation northwards and adapting it to vessels of a larger tonnage.
Chakir Bey (afterwards Marshal and Ambassador to St Petersburg, and one
of Midhat’s faithful partisans) was despatched north with a company
of engineers, and reported favourably on the enterprise. Thereupon
dredging and other engineering works were immediately ordered to be
undertaken.
The periodical overflow of the waters of the Euphrates had converted
large tracts of country into marshes, and marsh fevers in consequence
becoming endemic, rendered them uninhabitable. Drainage works on a
large scale, with a view of reclaiming these lands and of curing the
insalubrity, were also undertaken. Irrigation works were likewise
started, and much attention was devoted to this subject by the Pasha,
with a view to gradually restoring the system introduced by the first
Arab conquerors, which had converted this country into the Garden of
the East, and rendered the Caliphate of Bagdad proverbial for its
wealth and prosperity. A tramway, too, between Bagdad and Kiazimie was
constructed, and its entire length, 7 miles, completed within a year. A
textile manufactory, too, was started, and an engine of 70-h.p. ordered
in France, the despatch of which was only delayed by the breaking out
of the Franco‐German War (1870).
Whilst energetically pursuing these material improvements, Midhat
Pasha was far from neglecting the moral side of the problem of Reform.
Schools were opened in every district; hospitals, refuges for old age,
and loan banks everywhere arose, and a printing‐press established
where the newspaper _Zora_ was published, and municipal institutions
for lighting and watering and other local purposes were instituted in
all the principal centres. A petroleum spring discovered in the vilayet
was immediately utilised for public purposes. It was not too much to
hope that a decade of such enlightened government would have repaired
the neglect of centuries and restored their ancient prosperity to the
rich valleys of the Tigris and Euphrates.
In 1870 the Shah of Persia, accompanied by a numerous suite, came
to visit the holy places of Nejef and Kerbela, and although the
province had to support the whole expense of this costly visit,
amounting to over £T30,000, Midhat Pasha determined to give the royal
visitor a reception worthy of his exalted rank, and to profit by the
occasion by settling some vexed questions long pending between the
two neighbouring Mahomedan countries. The circulation of depreciated
Persian money in the province had long disturbed the value of exchanges
and created confusion in commercial transactions. The exchange value
of this currency, and the amount of it to be issued in the future,
were now agreed upon. The incursions and depredations of nomad
Kurds, the Hamavends, Sendjabi, etc., shifting their camping‐ground
from Persian to Turkish territory, and _vice versa_, so as to evade
taxation and elude the authorities of either nation, whilst plundering
indiscriminately the peaceful inhabitants of both, had long been a
scandal, creating a state of affairs on the frontier difficult to cope
with. A better understanding and a combined policy of surveillance
between the Persian and Turkish authorities on the frontier were now
established, and block‐houses on the model of those successfully
introduced on the Servian frontier were constructed, to the infinite
relief of the agricultural population of both nations, situated on the
entire length of this extensive line. Midhat Pasha failed, however, to
obtain the sanction of the Persian authorities to a scheme which he had
long cherished, and which he trusted to this occasion to be able to put
into execution.
At Nejef, one of the sacred places to which periodical pilgrimages
were made, there were rich treasures, the proceeds of the offerings
of Indian and Persian devotees of the Shiite sect during centuries
past, which, on the invasion of the Wahabites, had been hidden in a
cave. Midhat Pasha had ordered the cave to be opened and an official
inventory to be made of the treasures that it contained. This inventory
revealed treasures of diamonds, rubies, pearls, and other precious
stones, to the value of no less than £T300,000, and Midhat proposed a
public sale of the treasure and the appropriation of its proceeds to
works of public utility, such as a railway between Persia and Bagdad,
or, if such an appropriation of a sacred treasure appeared too secular,
at least to the creation of such much‐needed institutions as hospitals
and refuges and caravanserai for the pilgrims on the route of their
pilgrimages to the holy places. Even this reasonable proposal, however,
was vetoed by the Persian Ulemas, and the whole scheme falling through,
Midhat ordered the treasure to be carefully deposited again in the
cave from which it had been taken, and its entrance secured with the
official seals of the Turkish and Persian authorities.
Certain events now took place having a bearing beyond the boundaries
of the province and of a quasi‐international character. The town of
Bussora, important on account of its geographical position as the
terminus station of the Euphrates on the Persian Gulf, suffered from
the inconvenience of an extremely unhealthy climate, resulting from
the stagnant waters of the Achar, a branch of the river Shat‐el‐Arab,
on which it was built. Midhat determined to remove the site of the
township on to the main river, and with that view built a Governor’s
house and Government buildings on the new site as a nucleus for a new
city. Outside this enclosure, the township of Nassrieh was laid out
on plans furnished by the Pasha, to become the capital of the sandjak
of Muntefik, and to replace the old town of Suk esh‐sheyuh which
was falling into ruins, and was deficient in all the necessaries of
civilisation.
Sixty miles from Bussora, and on the coast of Nedjed, is situated
the little town of Koweit of six thousand houses, the inhabitants of
which are all Mussulmans. Midhat Pasha’s predecessor, Namik Pasha,
had endeavoured to bring this population within the influence of his
jurisdiction, but they successfully resisted all attempts at imposing
taxation upon them, and had maintained their quasi‐independence under
their own chiefs, the descendants of one Sabah who had come with
this tribe of “Moutayer” from Nedjed five hundred years before, and
had maintained ever since with practical independence a republican
form of government, choosing by election their own judges (_cadis_)
and the professors of their religious schools (_medresses_). Owing
to the restricted extent of their territory, the inhabitants, like
those of Venice, took chiefly to maritime pursuits, and upwards of two
hundred small vessels of various tonnage traversed in every direction
the Indian Ocean, as far as the coasts of Zanzibar, and practically
monopolised the pearl fisheries of the Persian Gulf. Although they had
adopted a special flag of their own, they occasionally hoisted a Dutch
or English flag, to secure certain privileges accorded to these flags
by the capitulations. It seemed highly desirable to Midhat Pasha to
put an end to this equivocal status of the inhabitants of Koweit, and
to regularise their position. He accordingly entered into negotiations
with them, and offered the full enjoyment of their autonomy and
privileges under the government of their own Sheik Sabah, provided they
recognised themselves as forming part and parcel of the Ottoman empire,
and adopted the Ottoman flag as their national ensign. These conditions
were accepted by the people of Koweit, and their territory became a
sandjak of the vilayet of Bagdad. A formal treaty to that effect was
drawn up and signed and confirmed by _berats_ (writs of investiture)
from Constantinople, and new schools and mosques arose in Koweit.
After the settlement of Koweit, Midhat’s attention was turned to the
conquest of the Nedjed, the most important event that marked his
governorship of Bagdad.
The Nedjed is the geographical denomination of an extent of country
including about a quarter of the Arabian peninsula. Soliman, the
conqueror, after defeating the Portuguese squadron in the Persian Gulf,
had annexed it to his empire, and had despatched a special governor
from Constantinople to administer the province of Hassa. A century
after this, the inhabitants rose in revolt and formed themselves into a
separate State, which included the island of Bahrein in its limits. On
the first breaking out of these troubles, the Egyptian troops sent out
to repress the revolt had been successful, and had defeated the rebels
at Riad and Derayeh, forcing the Wahabites to recognise the authority
of the Sultan, but the Ottoman Government, whose attention was now
turned elsewhere, neglected to follow up this success, and the Nedjed
gradually regained its independence under the dynasty of Wahab.
In the time of Midhat Pasha, the reigning Sheik, Abdul Fazil, whilst
in the enjoyment of quasi‐independence himself, had never dreamt
of encroaching on the neighbouring territories under the authority
of the Sultan, nor of exciting revolt among their inhabitants by
preaching among them the particular tenets of Wahabism; but his brother
Saood, under the instigation of certain counsellors, with a view to
supplanting him in the government of the country, declared war on him,
and succeeded in dethroning him.
Abdul Fazil now had recourse to the intervention of Midhat Pasha, whom
he warned of the probable consequences that would follow the victory of
his brother with respect to the propagandism of Wahabite ideas among
the surrounding tribes. Midhat determined to act, but before entering
on a campaign that might prove an arduous undertaking, he took measures
to ascertain the exact forces that Saood had at his disposal, as well
as the topography of the country where military operations would have
to be carried out. With this view, spies and agents disguised as
merchants were sent in various directions, and soundings were taken of
different parts of the coast. A full report as to the situation of the
Nedjed in all these respects was in due course furnished to Midhat, who
in the meantime had requested and obtained the necessary authorisation
from the Grand Vizier, Aali Pasha, for the projected campaign.
Midhat was aware that certain delicate international questions might
arise in the course of the expedition. The policy of England, as
represented by its Indian Government, had always been to favour rather
than to discourage the desire of independence on the part of the Arab
chiefs in this part of the world. A serious and systematic attempt,
therefore, to suppress their independence and to attach these distant
members permanently to the body of the Ottoman Empire might seem to
run counter to the policy of the Indian Government on the shores of
the neighbouring Persian Gulf. Midhat had always been a stout and
consistent supporter of the English Alliance, but he was by no means
inclined for that reason to sacrifice to that alliance the essential
interest of the Ottoman Empire; and while resolved to proceed with
tact and due considerateness for the interests and susceptibilities of
a friendly Power, he did not hesitate, in spite of a certain amount
of sympathy manifested by England towards Saood, to proceed with the
expedition he had resolved upon.
The most populous province of Nedjed was Hassa, with its port Elkatif.
Thirty‐two hours distant from this port are situated the townships
of Elhofuf and Elmuberez, surrounded by fortified walls. Six hours
distant from Elkatif is the port of Ras Tannurah, offering favourable
conditions for a disembarkation of troops. Securing his communications
between Bussora and Elkatif, a distance of 360 miles by sea, by means
of the proffered co‐operation of Abdullah Elsabah, Sheik of Koweit,
who put his flotilla at the disposal of the Pasha for that purpose,
Midhat embarked five battalions of regular troops with a complement of
artillery under the command of Nafiz Pasha, General of division, for
the port of Ras Tannurah, whence they immediately marched to Elkatif,
which after a faint resistance capitulated to the Ottoman troops. The
surrender of Elmuberez and other strategical points in the Wahabs’
country followed in quick succession, and in a very short space of time
the partisans of Saood were dispersed and the whole country brought
under Imperial rule.
Midhat was now about to start himself for the Nedjed, with a view to
organise the country as a province of the Ottoman Empire, when his
attention was called by the Governor of Diarbekir, Kurd Ismail Pasha,
to the suspicious movements in the neighbourhood of Urfa of Sheik
Abdul Kerim, of the tribe of Chamar, the same, it will be remembered,
who, on the occasion of the revolt of the Dogara tribesmen, arriving
too late to assist the defeated rebels, turned round and offered his
services to the victorious Pasha.
Thinking the present occasion more favourable for carrying out his
cherished policy, he was marching straight on Bagdad, killing and
pillaging on his route. Warned by Kurd Ismail, Midhat took immediate
steps to crush him. Abdul Kerim had divided his forces into three
parts, the first advancing on Zor, the second on Mosul, and the
third, under his own command, marching on Bagdad. On this information
reaching him, Midhat ordered two battalions of regulars to reinforce
Kurd Ismail, whilst General Echeref Pasha was directed to fortify
Zor and other strategical points on the Tigris and Euphrates. These
troops coming into collision with the first division of Abdul Kerim’s
army in the neighbourhood of Zor, easily dispersed them, whilst Kurd
Ismail himself, attacking the second division of the rebels in the
neighbourhood of Mosul, completely routed it. On learning of the
successive defeats of the two wings of this invading army, Abdul
Kerim quickly abandoned all idea of advancing, and took measures to
secure his own safety. His retreat by the desert being cut off by
the droughts prevailing at this season, he made for his own native
country, the Chamar, but Midhat threatening Sheik Ibn Reshid, chief
of the tribe Djebel, if he ventured to offer refuge to the rebel,
diverted Abdul Kerim’s retreat to the direction of Muntefik by Hilah
and Kerbela, where he fell in with Nassir Pasha, and in the fight that
ensued was wounded and taken prisoner. After a regular trial for armed
rebellion and treachery, he was condemned to death, and the sentence
being approved of by the authorities at Constantinople, he was in due
course hanged at Mosul. His brother, Ferhan Pasha, now received the
chieftainship of the tribe Chamar, with an increase of territory and
a regular monthly subsidy, whilst the turbulent tribesmen acknowledged
the authority of the Imperial Government and consented to pay the
taxes. This settlement was followed by a resumption of agricultural
pursuits on the part of the inhabitants, and the general pacification
of the country.
But troubles in these parts did not end with the conquest of the
Nedjed and the defeat of Abdul Kerim. Abdullah Fazil—who had by means
of Ottoman arms been restored to the government of Elkatif, with the
Turkish title of Mutessarif, in the new vilayet of Nedjed—once freed
from all apprehension respecting the ambition of his brother Saood,
began to manifest restlessness under Turkish regular administration.
Discontent, too, with Turkish fiscal arrangements was felt by the
tribesmen, and affairs began again to assume a threatening aspect.
Midhat determined to inquire into the causes of this discontent, and
finding that exemption from all taxation, save that sanctioned by the
Mussulman law, viz. the tithe, had been consecrated by secular usage
among them, and that the neighbouring tribes who had come under English
protection, Oman, Mascat, etc., fully enjoyed the privilege of this
exemption, determined to satisfy the population of Elkatif in this
respect, and forthwith consented to limit their liability to taxation
to the regular payment of the tithe.
There remained the island of Bahrein, the conquest of which, on account
of the importance of its position on the Persian Gulf, Midhat now
determined to effect. In order to superintend operations himself, and
in case of any international friction demanding his presence, Midhat
started for the Nedjed. Abdullah Fazil hearing of this, and fearing
that his own equivocal conduct was the cause of the journey, fled from
Elkatif to Riad, and in spite of the Pasha’s assurances, refused to
return. His dismissal from the Government was thereupon pronounced, and
the district converted into the sandjak of Hassa, and together with
the command of the troops, was entrusted to Nafiz Pasha. A friendly
interchange of views now took place between Midhat Pasha and the
Government of India, the result of which was that the island of Bahrein
was officially annexed to the Mutessarifat of Hassa. Two Turkish
corvettes, the _Libnan_ and the _Iskenderoun_, under the command of
Arif Bey, sailed for the island, followed by two English gunboats
under Commander Pelly, and the Turkish and English vessels exchanged
salutes and other friendly courtesies in the port. When the Turkish
sailors disembarked on the island they were received with the most
indescribable enthusiasm by the islanders, who had not seen the Turkish
ensign flying on a man‐of‐war for two centuries past. The Sheik of the
island offered an appropriate piece of land to be used as a _dépôt_
for coals for Turkish vessels, and offered to place the resources of
the island at the disposition of the Turkish authorities if necessity
should arise. On weighing anchor from Bahrein the two corvettes were
joined by the vessel that had Midhat Pasha on board, and the little
flotilla sailed together to Koweit. Here the same scenes were enacted
that had distinguished the visit to Bahrein, and nothing occurred
to mar the cordiality that existed between the Ottoman and British
forces that met in these Eastern ports. The convention which had been
previously agreed upon between Midhat and the British authorities
prevented any friction between them.
The re‐establishment of Imperial authority in these regions justified,
and indeed necessitated, a considerable increase in the Turkish
flotilla in these waters. Before the opening of the Suez Canal, Turkey
only possessed the two corvettes the _Boursa_, and the _Ismir_, neither
of which was in a sea‐going condition. Midhat sent the _Boursa_ to
Bombay to undergo repairs, and added the _Libnan_, _Iskenderoun_,
_Deniz_, _Babel_, _Ninova_, _Nedjed_, and _Assour_, besides ten
vessels of light draught for river police, and to reinforce the
Bagdad squadron. The port of Bussora, no longer adequate to the naval
requirements of the province, was enlarged and improved, and works for
an inner harbour capable of anchoring vessels of 10-feet draught were
commenced at Kut‐el‐Frenghi on the river Shat‐el‐arab.
All these various improvements and reforms, and the general advance in
the political and administrative status of this important province,
were highly appreciated by the Government of the Porte, which was
now under the enlightened guidance of Aali Pasha, who addressed the
following letter to Midhat Pasha:—
“EXCELLENCY,—The very weak state of health from which I have
been for some time suffering has been the cause of the delay that
has occurred in answering your letters concerning the voyage of
His Majesty the Shah. Pray accept my most sincere excuses. I beg
to congratulate you in a very especial manner, on your brilliant
successes in the Nedjed. Everything seems to indicate that, thanks
to the tact with which you have brought about the pacification of
the Provinces of Assir, the political importance of which is so
considerable, the whole Arabic peninsula will soon return to its
ancient status. By your services you have merited the glorious title,
‘Haremein Muhteremein.’
“The effect of the Shah’s visit on the Shiite population in the
province was the subject of considerable preoccupation with us,
but the good intentions and loyalty manifested on both sides, have
smoothed over many difficulties and brought about highly desirable
results.... It is quite certain that Nevab Ikbal Eldevle, being
a just and upright man, will blame and discourage any flagrant
departure from justice and equity on the part of his co‐religionists.
“Be good enough to thank him in my name, when the occasion offers,
for the seal in agate, the engraving and inscription on which are
very fine.
“Prince Abbas Mirza has arrived here, and he has twice been received
in Audience by his Majesty.... He seems a polished and intelligent
person, but I have not yet had any opportunity to form an estimate of
his character.
“I am,
“(seal) MEHMED EMIN AALI.
“23 _Djemaziel Evel, 1288_ (1871), _Hegira_.”
By the same courtier the Sultan Abdul Aziz sent Midhat Pasha a sword of
honour set with diamonds, with the inscription “Nedjed” engraved on it.
This was the closing scene of Midhat’s governorship of Bagdad, and with
it closed the first half of his career, viz., as Provincial Governor.
Circumstances were occurring at Constantinople destined to bring him
on the scene there, to play his part in the important political events
about to occur in the metropolis.
But a change of a portentous nature had taken place at Constantinople.
Fuad Pasha and Aali Pasha, whose prestige and popularity had gained an
ascendancy over the Sultan, and had, since his accession, practically
monopolised power, and who had strenuously supported Midhat in all
his reforming measures both on the Danube and the Euphrates, died
within a few months of each other. The disappearance of these two able
and powerful Ministers synchronized with the return of Abdul Aziz
from a tour in Europe, when symptoms of an ominous character began
to reveal themselves in the sovereign. He showed himself impatient
of contradiction or advice of any kind, expressing openly his
relief at being freed from the incubus of his former Grand Viziers;
he completely changed the etiquette of the Court, imposing on the
occasion of audiences an antiquated ceremonial, accompanied by unwonted
prostrations to be observed on entering the Imperial presence, and he
directed that henceforth he should be addressed in inflated language,
strange even to the forms of Oriental adulation. But what was more
serious than these triflings of Imperial vanity, was the fact that he
now launched out, careless of the resources of the budget, on the most
lavish expenditure of every kind both of a public and private nature.
Fleets of costly ironclads were ordered and equipped without regard to
their cost; marble palaces rose, as by enchantment, on the banks of the
Bosphorus, and every whim and caprice on his own part or that of the
Palace had to be gratified without stint or delay. He found in Mahmoud
Nedim a compliant Grand Vizier, who, in return for the retention of
power, undertook to find the ways and means for the gratification of
all his master’s wishes.
The reflex action of this state of things at headquarters was felt
in the most distant provinces. When the exactions of the Palace had
expropriated the balance of the sums destined to the various services
of the State, recourse was had to the provinces to make good the
deficiencies by extraordinary “benevolences” and remittances. Works
of public utility or necessity were accordingly suspended, and the
funds necessary for their completion diverted to the metropolis.
Incompetent favourites arrived from Constantinople with orders to the
Vali to provide them with lucrative posts, and by these means the whole
fabric of the new administration, painfully and patiently built up,
was dislocated and deranged. Midhat, recognising the impossibility of
governing in such conditions, resigned his Governorship and set out for
Constantinople.
THE FIRST GRAND VIZIERATE OF MIDHAT PASHA.
On his arrival in Constantinople, Midhat found that an order had been
issued for his banishment from the capital, under cloak of nominating
him to the government of Adrianople. Insisting, however, on the
exercise of his right of audience with the sovereign before setting out
for his new post, he made such strong representations to the Sultan
with respect to the general situation of the empire, that Abdul Aziz
thereupon abruptly dismissed Mahmoud Nedim, and appointed Midhat Grand
Vizier in his place (1873).
As soon as he had filled the principal offices of State with the best
material he could find—Chirvani Rushdi Pasha, Djémil Pasha, and Sadik
Pasha—the first and most pressing necessity that confronted him was
to endeavour to put the Finances in order. This was no easy task. The
public accounts presented were entirely fictitious. His first discovery
was to the effect that whereas the budget showed a surplus of half a
million (£T), there was in point of fact a deficit of three millions.
The actual appropriation of the sums debited in the accounts presented
another difficulty. A sum of £T100,000 disbursed by the Treasury was
not accounted for at all. Midhat insisted on a full inquiry, and,
discovering that this sum had been appropriated by the late Grand
Vizier, directed an investigation into the matter before the members
of the Council of State, who ordered its immediate restitution by
Mahmoud Nedim, and recommended his banishment. He, however, alleging
in private that this sum in question although nominally attributed to
him was really allotted to the Palace, found in the Valide Sultan and
her _entourage_ most powerful allies in his duel with Midhat. Banished
by the insistence of the Grand Vizier, first to Adrianople and then to
Trebizond, he soon obtained permission to return to Constantinople.
Two distinct parties began now to stand out in clear relief. On the
one side was Midhat, warmly supported by public opinion in the capital
and in the provinces, and by all that was most enlightened among the
Softas and Ulemas, headed by Chakir Effendi, and on the other side
the whole army of corruption, headed by Mahmoud Nedim and protected by
the Valide Sultan and the Palace Camarilla. Another powerful ally of
the late Grand Vizier was General Ignatieff, who by the most ingenious
and persistent methods—condescending even to the resources of the
stage—worked on the mind of the Sultan in order to restore Mahmoud
Nedim to power.
An incident soon occurred which brought matters to a crisis. The
Khedive of Egypt, desirous of changing the order of succession in
his family and of obtaining various privileges and prerogatives
from his suzerain, was in the habit of making periodical visits
to Constantinople, carrying away with him each time, by judicious
payments, some shred of the sovereign rights of the Porte. These visits
became a regular source of income and emolument to the Palace and all
its myrmidons. Arriving at Constantinople on the occasion of one of
these visits he found Midhat Pasha installed as Grand Vizier, and to
his surprise and disappointment, and to the discomfiture of the Palace
clique, he was obliged this time to return to Alexandria with his
presents, _re infectâ_.
It soon became apparent that one of two things must happen: the Sultan
would either have to change the whole _régime_ and scale of expenditure
of the Palace, or change his Grand Vizier; and as he never really
contemplated the former course, he adopted the latter. The determining
cause was Midhat’s action with reference to certain scandals—incidents
connected with Baron Hirsch’s railway schemes.
It is only in a despotic country, where State contracts are signed in
the dark, and _cahiers de charge_ are examined by carefully chosen
experts and passed by complaisant accountants, that such a scandal as
the Hirsch railways is possible or conceivable. If the cynicism of the
whole transaction had not become notorious, and thus excited as much
laughter as its nefariousness caused indignation, it would be worth
while to set out in detail all the circumstances of this stupendous
business.
To obtain a contract giving unlimited control over the richest forests
in the world, on the pretext of cutting sleepers, is in itself a
pretty smart stroke of business. To stipulate for payment of railways
according to the mileage executed, irrespective of topographical
considerations or local requirements, is a triumph of contracting
skill; but to claim payment for work done in the plains only, on
the basis of an average calculated for working through plains and
mountain‐chains alike, is the very glory of financial genius. The
secret, too, of the art was as simple as the result was lucrative.
Backsheesh in adequate amounts, distributed at appropriate moments in
the right quarters, was the alpha and omega of the business.
Midhat, in his determination to strike at the root of the whole system
of corruption, irrespective of persons or of consequences, having
discovered that the highest person in the land was himself a recipient
of the largesses of the Austrian baron, insisted on the restitution of
the sums received. The Sultan listened to the advice tendered, returned
the money, and dismissed his Grand Vizier.
CHAPTER III
DEPOSITION AND DEATH OF ABDUL AZIZ
After an honourable exile as Governor of Salonica, Midhat obtained
leave to return to Constantinople, and after a brief tenure of the
office of Minister of Justice and of the Presidency of the Council
of State, he handed in his resignation in the following terms, and
retired to his Konak in the neighbourhood of the capital and awaited
developments:
_To Midhat Pasha, President of the Council of State._
“I beg that your Highness will be good enough to instruct me as to
the reply I am to make to His Majesty, in case he should question me
as to the motives for your resignation.
“HAFIZ MEHEMED
“_Head Chamberlain_ (_of Sultan Aziz_).”
_Reply._
“EXCELLENCY,—My request is not based upon any personal motives. I
have nothing but praise for all my colleagues, both high and low;
but the motives which have forced me to this decision are, as I have
already set out in my petition, the difficulties of the position in
which we are placed, that is to say, our finances are in a hopeless
condition, the civil administration is utterly disorganised, and the
state of the army is beyond description; all this compromised the
security and credit of the country, and the non‐Mussulman element
loudly proclaims the intention that it long ago formed of placing
itself under foreign protection. While the faults and mistakes
made twenty years ago have prepared the way for the disasters
which are now showing themselves in rapid succession, and which are
sufficient to employ all our time, our foreign policy has also been
misdirected, the feelings of the Powers have changed towards us,
and they entertain hostile intentions towards our country to such a
degree that the most friendly Power has lost all confidence in us.
It is impossible for us not to deplore the unfortunate results which
this line of conduct cannot fail to produce for Turkey, and for the
faithful servants of His Majesty—that of being unable to see the
future clearly before them. In view of the attitude adopted by His
Highness the Grand Vizier, which gives reason to hope that this state
of affairs may be remedied, I feel compelled to devote my feeble
efforts and support to those duties which are specially incumbent on
me in the existing crisis through which the Ministry is passing. But
as I have explained in the petition which I have already sent in, I
have passed the greater portion of my life in provincial service, and
have never taken part in such delicate and complicated affairs, and
am therefore compelled to ask you to have the goodness to intercede
with His Majesty to accept my resignation.
“I am, etc.,
“MIDHAT.
“29 _Cheval_, 1291 (1874).”
In the meantime things went from bad to worse in the affairs of the
State. Grand Viziers one after the other were appointed and dismissed.
Mehemet Rushdi Pasha, Essad Pasha, Chervani Rushdi Pasha, held office
for a few months only, and with the best of intentions were utterly
unable to grapple with the situation, and the “villain of the piece,”
Mahmoud Nedim, was at last recalled to office. The finances of the
country were fast getting beyond all remedy. Although it was only
twenty years since the fatal secret of a national debt had been learnt
in Turkey, bankruptcy was already staring the country in the face. So
palpable was this to the best friends of Turkey, that Mr Yorke in the
British Parliament, in the interests of a long‐standing ally of Great
Britain, and of the alliance itself, called attention to the state of
Turkish finances, and summoned the British Government to intervene
through its ambassador at Constantinople to endeavour to ward off
impending catastrophes. Three months after this warning the Turkish
Treasury suspended payment on half the amount of the coupons of the
public debt.
The outcry caused by this measure throughout Europe, not only in
strictly commercial and financial circles, but in every class of the
community, was indescribable. Tempted by the high rate of interest,
and confiding in the assurances of financiers interested in floating
successive loans that “Turkey always has paid and therefore always
would pay” the coupons of its debts, the _petite bourgeoisie_ and the
small investor had largely placed their savings in Turkish bonds, and
the “tightness” and misery caused by the suspension was undoubtedly
very great (1875). Meetings of indignant bond‐holders were held in
every capital and large city in Europe, and the Turkish Government and
the Turkish nation, the Pasha and the people, were confounded in a
common anathema. The ground was admirably prepared for an explosion of
political passion directed against Turkey. The occasion for this was
not long in presenting itself.
During the second Vizierate of Essad Pasha, certain movements of a
suspicious nature took place on the Montenegrin frontier which would
have arrested the attention of a more vigilant Government. A party of
sixty Slav peasants from the village of Nevesinje in the Commune of
Mostar, on some trivial quarrel with the local authorities, emigrated
in a body across the frontier into Montenegro. In a short time, through
the good offices of the Russian Ambassador, they obtained leave to
return to their homes; but very soon, in concert with their Montenegrin
friends, they organised a _razzia_ on the lands of the neighbouring
Mussulmans. Instead of nipping this incipient rebellion in the bud and
enquiring into its cause, the local authorities temporised with its
leaders and awaited instructions from Constantinople as to how they
were to proceed. Encouraged by this impunity, and with the assurance
of external support, the insurgent bands rapidly increased in numbers,
and when at last the Government determined to act, it found itself in
presence of a serious rebellion. Essad Pasha, well‐intentioned but
weak, and preoccupied with the serious outlook of affairs generally,
accepted the insidious offer of the Russian and Austrian Ambassadors to
intervene between the leaders of the bands and the Supreme Government.
No policy could have been more fatal. It afforded the greatest possible
encouragement to the rebels, who considered the step an acknowledgment
by the Government of its own inability to deal with the movement;
it practically conceded belligerent rights to the rebels, and it
encouraged the habit and consecrated the principle of interference by
foreign governments in the internal affairs of the empire.
The hollowness of the offer was apparent the moment the terms of
surrender came to be discussed, and the net result of this diplomatic
comedy was, as was no doubt intended, that what was at first an
insignificant rising of a handful of peasants was raised to the dignity
of a recognised rebellion that could negotiate on equal terms with
the Imperial Government through the medium of foreign consuls and
ambassadors.
Mahmoud Nedim had now succeeded Essad Pasha as Grand Vizier (1875),
and as no effective measures were taken to suppress the rising, it
went on spreading from village to village and district to district
till the contagion was caught in Bulgaria. There, in the beginning
of 1874, a commencement of unrest showed itself in the districts
of Drenova, Kazanlik, and Zagra; but the local authorities (warned
by what had taken place in the Herzegovina through the neglect of
initial precautions) had all the leaders of the movement arrested.
Thereupon General Ignatieff made such energetic representations to the
Porte, that orders arrived not only for the release of the imprisoned
malcontents, but for the dismissal of all the functionaries concerned
in their arrest.[6]
The effect of this novel and original mode of dealing with an
insurrection was soon apparent in the effervescence and excitement it
caused among the Mussulman population throughout the province. They
saw rebel bands, the leaders of which were patronised and supported by
foreign consuls and diplomatists, being organised without disguise and
approaching their own hearths, whereas all defensive measures on the
part of their own natural leaders were discountenanced and punished.
They thereupon resolved to take the matter into their own hands, and
formed vigilance committees and organised local bands under the command
of retired _zaptiés_ throughout the province.
In such psychological conditions an explosion of popular passions
was certain sooner or later to take place. The occasion for this was
furnished by an incident that occurred at Salonica on the 5th May 1875.
This incident was, with the Bulgarian insurrection and the Berlin Note,
one of the external difficulties that confronted the Government, and
placed it in a very critical position. A young Bulgarian girl had
come by rail to Salonica from a neighbouring village on the evening
of the 5th May, accompanied by a _hoadja_, with a view to making a
declaration of conversion to Mahomedanism before the Grand Council of
Salonica—a formality required by the law, as a preliminary to her
being married to a young Mahomedan of her village. On her arrival
at the station she was met by a mob of Greeks and Bulgarians who
pulled off her _yashmak_ and _feradje_ (mantle and veil), and forcing
her into a carriage, in spite of the efforts of four _zaptiés_ who
came up in the middle of the disturbance, drove her at a gallop to
the American Consulate, where the brother of the Vice‐Consul (a
Bulgarian), who had arranged the abduction, concealed her during the
night. The next day he had her removed to the house of a friend, so
that all trace of the girl should be lost. But early next morning a
Mussulman mob, comprising (as in such occurrences is certain to be
the case) the worst and most violent sections of the population, had
assembled at the Konak and loudly demanded the restoration of the
girl and her appearance before the Grand Council. As their demands
were not complied with, they retired to the Saatli Mosque, adjacent
to the Governor’s Konak, where they reiterated their demands for the
restoration of the girl. Unfortunately, by some fatality which was
never satisfactorily explained, the German and French Consuls found
their way into the mosque in the very midst of excited Mussulmans.
Whether they went there of their own accord to remonstrate and argue
with the people, or approaching the scene of the demonstration were
hustled into the mosque, was never cleared up. But once they appeared
there, the frenzy of the mob burst all bounds, and the most violent
amongst them, pursuing the Consuls into one of the apartments of the
_Muderris_ (Academy) in connection with the mosque, fell on them
with iron bars hastily snatched from the windows of the mosque, and
murdered them on the spot. The English Consul, Mr Blunt, accompanied
by his _cavass_, seems to have been the only one who kept his head on
this occasion and acted with presence of mind and sagacity; for, at
the risk of his own life, he forced his way to the Konak, and when he
found that the Governor could not effect the restoration of the girl,
which was the only way to calm the mob and rescue the Consuls, he sent
to the American Vice‐Consulate to apprize Mr Lazaro, who was the cause
of the whole disturbance, of the perilous situation of his colleagues,
the French and German Consuls, and to implore him to restore the girl.
Unfortunately, Mr Lazaro at first procrastinated and pretended that
he did not know where the girl was, and so precious time was lost;
and when subsequently, on a further appeal from Mr Consul Blunt, he
delivered up the girl, it was too late, for the crime against the
foreign Consuls who had intervened had been accomplished.
Although the Ottoman Government took immediate steps to punish the
authors of this crime—the six principal leaders of which were
immediately executed, and the remainder punished with severe terms
of penal servitude—the effect of the outrage on the public opinion
of Europe, in the existing state of feeling in regard to Turkey,
can easily be conceived. It excited indignation everywhere; but the
anti‐Turkish Press, now pretty numerous, seized on it with avidity and
pointed to it as irrefragable evidence of the incorrigible fanaticism
of the whole Mussulman population of the empire, and called for various
coercive measures, amounting in some cases to a combined crusade, to
protect the Christians in the country, now threatened with wholesale
massacre.[7]
It was in vain that Europeans who had lived all their lives in the
country, and were acquainted from personal experience with the feelings
and opinions of the inhabitants, protested against these exaggerations
and deprecated their vain terrors. Colonel James Baker, an English
resident for twenty years in the neighbourhood of Salonica, where he
had been farming on a large scale, and whose occupation had brought
him in contact with all sorts and conditions of men, Christian and
Mahomedan alike, wrote a book ridiculing these apprehensions, and
communicating his experiences of the harmony and good fellowship
existing among the adherents of both religions, with whom he had for
twenty years been brought into contact.
But the experience of people living on the spot could not stem the
torrent of hostile prejudice fortified by such dramatic examples
as the murder of the Consuls at Salonica. General Ignatieff, whose
plans were being admirably served by events, was not slow in lending
the weight of his authority to the propagation of these imaginary
terrors. He embodied 300 Montenegrin workmen at Constantinople to
serve as a body‐guard of his Embassy, to the amusement of his more
sensible colleagues, who were quite aware of the baselessness of the
fears that were the pretext of these ostentatious precautions. But the
_mise en scène_ contrived by the ingenious ambassador was not the less
effective, and these picturesque mountaineers as they lounged about
the streets of Pera, in their handsome national costume, bristling
with multifarious arms in their embroidered sashes, were striking
advertisements of the terrible dangers that threatened all Christians
in the fanatical land of the Osmanli.
Servia, too, was preparing to enter the lists. Although without
the shred of a grievance against the suzerain Power, nor indeed
alleging any, Prince Milan, moved by the sole ambition to convert his
principality into a kingdom, had easily allowed himself to be drawn
into the conspiracy of a concerted attack on the Ottoman Empire. All
the reserves of his army were called out and armed with newly imported
rifles; and trains full of Russian officers of all grades and ranks,
from Generals of divisions to corporals and sergeants, arrived daily at
the capital to organise this militia into a fighting machine, and to
drill the raw peasants into soldiers. The whole country, in fact, from
Belgrade to Alexinatz, was an armed camp.
Everything portended important developments for the ensuing spring
(1875). Early in the year, information reached the Porte that a serious
outbreak would take place in Bulgaria in the month of April, and that
the districts of Philippopolis, Eski‐Zagra, and Tirnova would be the
scene of the explosion. The information which was very detailed and
supported by evidence as to its accuracy, was accompanied by an earnest
request by the authorities of the threatened districts that a body of
regular troops should be despatched to the spot to inspire confidence
in the inhabitants and to protect the lives and property of peaceful
citizens. General Ignatieff again interfered, and in the capacity
of _amicus curiæ_, insisted that the presence of regular troops
would only inflame the passions of the population and precipitate a
crisis. Mahmoud Nedim allowed himself to be persuaded by the Russian
Ambassador, and persisted in turning a deaf ear to the reiterated
requests of the local authorities for the despatch of a regular force.
Three weeks before the appointed day (16th April 1875) the anticipated
rising took place. It was accompanied by exactly the same incidents
that had characterised every previous rising that obeyed a _mot
d’ordre_ from outside. The armed bands fell on the first Mussulmans
they met with, and massacred them all, regardless of age or sex, with
the obvious aim of provoking reprisals that should play into the hands
of the enemies of Turkey.[8] These reprisals did, in fact, take place,
and were, no doubt, of a sanguinary and wholesale character. It is not
intended here to defend or condemn the atrocities that took place on
this occasion; but human nature being what it is, and the provocation
endured by the Mussulman population being taken into account, and due
allowance being made for the contagion of passion and panic, it is
no great wonder if scenes were enacted in Bulgaria that have marked
revolution and _jacqueries_ in all ages in every part of the world;
and perhaps still less if a confessedly and bitterly hostile Press in
Europe denounced “methods of barbarism” with little sifting of evidence
and with much dramatic exaggeration. Party spirit has occasionally not
scrupled to apply exactly the same terms without much reason to the
methods of warfare of its own regular troops. One fact was clearly and
conclusively established by the various commissions subsequently sent
to prosecute enquiries on the spot, viz., that not a single instance
occurred of an unarmed Christian being injured, or of a Christian
village being destroyed whose inhabitants had not actually risen in
armed rebellion. Fanaticism, in the strict acceptation of the term, is
not so discriminating.
Matters had now come to such a pass that a general cataclysm was
to be apprehended. Bulgaria, Montenegro and Herzegovina in flames,
Servia arming to the teeth under the supervision of competent foreign
officers, Roumania preparing to move in the same direction, a bankrupt
treasury at home, a Grand Vizier whose sole resource seemed to be in
the promises and counsels of a perfidious ambassador, the arch‐enemy of
his country, and a sovereign wholly unconscious, or careless, of the
condition of the empire, provided his own extravagant caprices were
gratified—such was the aspect of affairs in Turkey in the spring of
1876. But that was not all.
Under the spur of public opinion, and moved by secret springs in the
same direction, European diplomacy was meddling with the matter. Rulers
of State and masters of many legions were holding meetings to discuss
the situation in the East, and “Notes” and “Memorandums” were flying
about the Chancellories of Europe. The diplomatic outlook was quite as
menacing as the situation at home was critical.
It was in such a condition of affairs that counsel was being taken
in Midhat’s Konak, among a few patriots who did not yet despair of
their country, as to the best mode of saving the empire. But before
the events that led up to the deposition of the Sultan Abdul Aziz are
detailed, it will be useful to cast a glance at what was passing in the
diplomatic world in Europe.
The first and most important event in this respect, inasmuch as it was
the key of all that subsequently occurred, was the meeting of the Czar
and the Emperor of Austria at Reichstadt, 8th July 1876.[9]
The outcome of that interview, with respect to Turkey, is no secret
to‐day, but twenty‐five years ago it was certainly ignored in London,
otherwise the negotiations that took place between the English
and Austrian Governments relative to the contingency of an armed
intervention in the Turko‐Russian War—carried on through the Austrian
Embassy in London in the significant absence of the Ambassador, which
went so far as to discuss the terms of a guaranteed war loan—would
certainly not have occurred. The acumen of the English Government
on this occasion would seem to have been somewhat at fault, and the
information that came to it from Vienna strangely unreliable; for it
acted, throughout negotiations extending over two years, in undisturbed
reliance on the _bonâ fides_ of the Austrian Chancellor’s assurances,
and apparently in a secure trust in the force of his Magyar prejudices
with respect to Russia. The fact is patent to‐day—and was well known
at Berlin, and was not ignored in Paris—that Austria was, if not the
actual instigator of the Herzegovinian rising—which is by no means
certain—the Power that was determined to profit by it, and that her
whole policy and diplomatic action with respect to the events that
were taking place in the South‐East of Europe was governed by this
determination.
The turning‐point of Austrian policy with respect to Turkey has already
been indicated: the abandonment by England of Austria’s interests on
the Danube left her free, or even compelled her to have regard to what
she considered her own exclusive interests; and the meeting of the two
Emperors, at the breaking out of the Herzegovinian disturbances, was
the confirmation of this change of policy.
Two assurances seem to have been given by the Czar at this now historic
interview. First, that whatever might be the outcome of events in
Turkey, he would not seek for Russia any territorial aggrandisement in
Europe; and secondly, with regard to Bosnia and Herzegovina, that in
the contingency of the continuance of disturbances there he would not
oppose the occupation of those provinces by Austria if sanctioned by
the rest of Europe.
If this agreement had not been a secret one, and the terms of it had
been known or suspected in London, does any one imagine that events
would have followed the course they did, or that the “Notes” and
“Memorandums” coming from Vienna and Berlin would have been taken
seriously by the English Cabinet? The pact between the two Emperors,
sealed at Reichstadt, was quite as much at the expense of England in
Asia as of Turkey in Europe. It was a practical corollary of Prince
Bismarck’s avowed Eastern policy.
There is only an academical interest now in pointing out the _rôle_
that the personality of Count Andrassy and his reputed Magyar
sentiments played in all these transactions, and it is not necessary to
interrupt the course of this narrative by dwelling on them.
After the Andrassy Memorandum had prepared the Cabinets of Europe for
some sort of diplomatic interference in the affairs of Turkey, and
familiarised them with the idea, the natural course of events in the
Turkish Empire did the rest. The ball set going at Vienna was taken up
at Berlin. The comparatively colourless diplomatic Memorandum concocted
in the first‐named capital was followed by a far more coercive Note
emanating from the latter. The former contained recommendations,
the latter added external sanctions to them. The policy intended to
be pursued with reference to Turkey was contained in germ in this
remarkable “Note,” and the diplomatic strategy to be employed was
herein clearly revealed. The “Conference,” which was to impose the
conditions and insist on the sanction, was already on the _tapis_,
and formed the subject of an interchange of views between the various
European governments; and it was, as it were, under the shadow of
this menace to the integrity and independence of the country that the
friends of Midhat now hastened their deliberations.
As early as the winter of 1875, Midhat, with a view of profiting by
the lights, and seeking the advice of the eminent diplomatist who
represented the Court of St James at Constantinople, paid a visit to
Sir Henry Elliot, the purpose of which can best be described in the
words of the Ambassador himself.[10]
“In the beginning of December 1875, I was informed by one of Midhat’s
partisans, a Pasha who had filled some of the highest offices of the
State, that the object of his party was to obtain a ‘Constitution.’
This was more than a year before its promulgation, when it was
declared to have been invented only to defeat the Conference then
sitting at Constantinople.... A few days later Midhat himself called
upon me and explained his views more fully than he had ever done
before, though I was acquainted with their general tenor. The Empire,
he said, was being rapidly brought to destruction; corruption had
reached a pitch that it had never before attained; the service of the
State was starved, while untold millions were poured into the Palace,
and the provinces were being ruined by the uncontrolled exertions of
governors who purchased their appointments at the Palace, and nothing
could save the country but a complete change of system. The only
remedy that he could perceive, lay, first, in securing a control over
the sovereign by making the Ministers—and especially as regarded the
finances—responsible to a national popular Assembly; and secondly
in making this Assembly truly national, by doing away with all
distinctions of classes and religions, and by placing the Christians
on a footing of entire equality with the Mussulmans; thirdly, by
decentralisation and by the establishment of provincial control over
the governors. It must surely be admitted that these were enlightened
and statesmanlike views, deserving of every encouragement.... He
dwelt repeatedly on the value that the sympathy of the British nation
would be to the reformers, and on the manner in which his countrymen
were now looking to England as the example they hoped to follow. I
told him in reply that I could not doubt that measures framed upon
the lines he had laid down must command the approval and ensure the
good wishes of every Englishman who, like myself, had faith in the
advantages of constitutional checks upon arbitrary power. I gave
him this assurance confidently and in good faith; for certainly
the very last thing that I anticipated was that those who in this
country make the greatest parade of their devotion to constitutional
principles would be the first to heap contumely upon men who were
trying to introduce it into theirs, and to hold up their proposals to
ridicule....”
The first of the many incidents that soon after this conversation began
to follow each other closely, took place on the 10th May 1876, when
an assemblage of several thousand Softas stopped Prince Izzeddine, the
Sultan’s eldest son, on his way to the Seraskierat (Ministry of War),
desiring him to return to the Palace, and to inform the Sultan that
they demanded the dismissal of Mahmoud Nedim, the Grand Vizier and of
Hassan Fehmi Effendi, the Sheik‐ul‐Islam. The Sultan did not venture to
reject the demand. Mahmoud and Hassan Fehmi were dismissed, the latter
being replaced by Hassan Hairullah Effendi, who enjoyed a high and
exceptional reputation for learning and enlightenment. Mehemet Rushdi
Pasha, an old man universally respected, was named Grand Vizier; and as
he insisted on Midhat joining his Cabinet (although holding no specific
office), it was believed that he would be the guiding spirit, and
general satisfaction was felt. Sir Henry Elliot proceeds to say:
“This general satisfaction did not last long. The Sultan quickly
showed his determination to resist all reforms by appointing to high
posts several of the worst of the old school of Pashas, and it then
became so evident to me that an attempt to depose him would certainly
very shortly be made, that on the 25th May I put my conviction on
record in a despatch in which I wrote that the word ‘Constitution’
was in every mouth; that the Softas, representing the intelligent
public opinion of the Capital, knowing themselves to be supported by
the bulk of the Nation—Christian as well as Mahomedan—would not, I
believed, relax their efforts till they obtained it, and that should
the Sultan refuse to grant it, an attempt to depose him appeared
almost inevitable; that texts from the Koran were circulated proving
to the faithful that the form of Government sanctioned by it was
properly democratic, and that the absolute authority now wielded by
the Sovereign was an usurpation of the rights of the people and not
sanctioned by the Sacred Law; and both texts and precedents were
appealed to to show that allegiance was not due to a Sovereign who
neglected the interests of the State. The disaffection, I said, now
ran through every class, and from the Pashas down to the porters
in the streets and the boatmen on the Bosphorus, no one thought any
longer of concealing his opinions.... Within a week after my reports
were written, the deposition had been effected....”
The two moving spirits in the deposition of Sultan Abdul Aziz were
undoubtedly Midhat Pasha and Hussein Avni Pasha, the Minister of War
(_seraskier_). The latter, a thorough soldier and a sterling patriot,
distinguished for the great energy and decision of his character
as well as the impetuosity of his temper, had occupied the highest
military posts in the country, and had been repeatedly exiled from
Constantinople by the Sultan. He was particularly feared and disliked
by Mahmoud Nedim, who had procured his banishment each time that
he had been made Grand Vizier. Although not sharing all Midhat’s
constitutional views and professing more confidence in the efficacy
of the sword than in the saving grace of popular institutions, he had
lent a willing and energetic support to his colleague’s views as to the
indisputable necessity of deposing the Sultan as a preliminary to any
attempted amelioration in the condition of the State.
As soon as the final resolution of Ministers was arrived at, and
before any commencement of execution could be given to it, it was
indispensable to obtain a _Fetva_ (authoritative decree) of the
Sheik‐ul‐Islam, Hassan Hairullah, the highest authority and mouthpiece
of the Sacred Law, in order to give legal validity to the act of
deposition. Accordingly the following _Fetva_ was issued for the
deposition:—
“If the Chief of the Faithful gives proof of mental derangement; if
he displays ignorance of State matters; if he employs the public
revenues for his personal expenditure, beyond what the Nation and
the State can support; if he introduces confusion into political
and spiritual concerns, and if his continuance in power becomes
injurious to the nation, may he be deposed?”
Answer: “The Cheri pronounces ‘Yes.’
“Signed by the humble
“HASSAN HAIRULLAH,
“To whom God grant His indulgence.
“_Djemaziel Evel_, 1293, _Hegira_.”
(30_th May_ 1876.)
Armed with this _Fetva_, Ministers decided on the immediate execution
of their plans, the details of which, it was agreed, should be left to
the Grand Vizier, to Midhat, and to the Minister of War.
There was a slight divergence of views between Midhat and the
Seraskier with reference to the form of procedure which should
accompany the deposition. Hussein Avni inclined to a simple military
_pronunciamento_, whereas Midhat wished to give the consecration of
popular sanction to the act. For this purpose he proposed that the
Softas and the population of Stamboul should be convoked _en masse_ to
the Noure‐Osmanieh Mosque, where they should set forth the griefs of
the nation and demand a change of _régime_; and that on this demand
being refused or ignored, they should proceed at once to the execution
of the decree of deposition. The majority of Ministers inclined to
this latter method of proceeding; but a circumstance occurred which
necessitated a change of plans and determined the abandonment of the
proposal for a popular demonstration.
The 31st May was chosen for the execution of the plan agreed upon. On
the eve of that day information reached Midhat from a woman of the
Palace that the Sultan had had wind of the affair, and that the whole
plot was about to be discovered. This was corroborated by the fact that
twice that same day Hussein Avni had been peremptorily summoned to the
Palace, although on the first summons he had pleaded illness as a
reason for disregarding it.
It was decided thereupon by the Ministers to anticipate the hour fixed
upon, and to proceed at once with the execution of their design.
At midnight accordingly, of the 30th of May, Mehemet Rushdi and Midhat,
accompanied each by a single attendant carrying a lamp, proceeded to
Sirkedji to embark on a _caïque_[11] for Pachalimani on the Bosphorus,
the residence of Hussein Avni. It was a pitch‐dark night with rain
falling in torrents, and it was with some difficulty that they reached
the place of rendezvous. Here they found Hussein Avni anxiously waiting
for them, and after a hurried interview in which the final dispositions
were made, they separated to their respective posts. Hussein Avni
started for the palace of Dolma‐Bagtche, whilst Rushdi and Midhat
proceeded to the Seraskierat.
It had been decided that the Ministers and high civil and military
dignitaries should assemble at the War Office and await the arrival
of Prince Murad, whom Hussein Avni had undertaken to conduct there in
person; and that as soon as he should arrive, the proclamation and
investiture of the Prince as the new Sultan should take place. It
was further arranged that immediately on the arrival of the Prince a
bonfire should be lit on the tower of the Seraskierat, as a signal to
the fleet of what was taking place, and thereupon a Royal salute should
be fired by Kaisserli Ahmed’s ironclads, to announce to the whole city
the commencement of a new reign.
Hussein Avni, proceeding in the direction of the Palace, was, according
to preconcerted arrangement, met by Suleiman Pasha, to whom the
delicate task of executing the measures necessary to be taken at the
Palace had been entrusted.
Suleiman Pasha, marshal in the army and director‐in‐chief of the school
of military cadets at Pancaldi, the trusted lieutenant and right‐hand
man of Hussein Avni, himself a strong partisan of Midhat Pasha and
the young hope of the Reform Party, was the very man to carry out an
operation requiring careful preparation and unflinching resolution for
its successful execution.
The troops in the barracks of Tash‐Kishla and Kumuch‐Suyou had already
received their orders from Redif Pasha, the commander of the _corps
d’armée_ of Constantinople, and had been so posted as to blockade all
approaches by land. The fleet of ironclads under the personal command
of Kaiseli Ahmed, the captain Pasha, had taken the same precautions by
sea, so that nothing remained but to disarm the sentinels and _corps de
garde_ along the immediate approaches to the Palace. Suleiman, taking
with him a selected body of military students from Pancaldi, under the
command of Ahmed Bey (colonel) and Bedry and Rifat Beys (captains),
after successfully performing, without disturbance but not without some
opposition, the delicate operation of disarmament, hastened to the
apartments of Prince Murad. Although the Prince had been made aware of
the intentions of the Ministers, and had acquiesced in their general
arrangements, it had been found impossible to acquaint him with the
change of date resolved upon. He, therefore, fearing some surprise or
treachery, hesitated for some time before he could be induced to comply
with Suleiman’s urgent request that he should immediately join Hussein
Avni, who was waiting for him in a carriage at the gates of the Palace
to drive him to the Seraskierat, where his proclamation and investiture
as the new sovereign were to take place. At one moment it looked as if
the solemn drama about to be enacted would have to be played out with
the part of the “Prince of Denmark” omitted.
Having surmounted this unexpected difficulty and despatched Murad on
his way to the Seraskierat, Suleiman proceeded to discharge the second
and more distasteful part of the mandate confided to him. Making his
way to the Imperial apartments, and overcoming the hesitation of
the attendants by presenting an order signed by all the Ministers,
he peremptorily demanded to be immediately led into the presence of
the Sultan. The demand being at last complied with, he proceeded to
communicate to Abdul Aziz the justification of his intrusion, and read
to him the _fetva_ of the deposition. Whilst the Sultan and Suleiman
were engaged in parleying, the big guns of Ahmed’s ironclads were heard
booming in the distance. Abdul Aziz at once took in the import of the
firing, and from that moment yielded to the inevitable. He prepared
to comply with the order communicated to him to quit the Palace of
Dolma‐Bagtche for that of Top‐Kapou, which had been assigned as a
residence for him.
The new Sultan confirmed all his Ministers in their posts, addressing
the following letter to the Porte:—
_To my Grand Vizier and very patriotic Mehemet Rushdi Pasha_—
“By the favour of the Almighty and the will of my subjects, we
have ascended the throne of our ancestors, and by reason of your
patriotism and ability in the discharge of your duties as Grand
Vizier, we confirm you and all your colleagues in your former posts.
The numerous difficulties experienced for some time past both in our
domestic affairs and foreign relations, have produced uneasiness in
the public mind, and caused detriment to the material and territorial
interests of the country. The necessity of amending this state of
things and of adopting remedial measures such as shall insure the
happiness and secure the confidence of our subjects, imposes itself
imperatively upon us; and to effect these purposes, it is absolutely
necessary to organise the administration of the State on a basis
of stability and justice. Our exclusive attention will be directed
to this end, and for this purpose we desire that our Ministers,
after due deliberation, shall submit to us for our approbation their
views on the means by which, whilst respecting the laws of the Cheri
and of Justice, the organisation of our Empire in accordance with
the wants and requirements of our people can be effected, with the
view of procuring to all our subjects alike, without distinction
or restriction, the completest liberty compatible with order; and,
moreover, that our Ministers shall communicate to us their views
on the application of such just laws and regulations as shall be
calculated to consolidate and unify the national and patriotic
sentiments of all our subjects. It is clear, moreover, that in order
to obtain these objects, it is indispensable to reorganise the
Council of State, the Ministers of Justice, as well as of public
Institutions and of the Finances, as well as other departments
of State; and it is, moreover, evident that one of the principal
reforms of all will consist in establishing on a sound foundation
the financial situation of the Empire, and in taking steps that no
expenditure shall be tolerated that shall not have been provided for
by the Budget of the State, by which measures it may be hoped that
public credit and confidence will be restored. In order to help to
obtain this result, we hereby diminish our Civil list by the sum of
£T300,000, and surrender to the State the coal‐mines of Heraclia and
the other mines and manufactories appertaining to the Civil list; and
we recommend that like economies shall be effected in all the various
branches of the administration, so as to establish an equilibrium in
our finances. Our liveliest desire is for a continuance of intimate
relations with all the friendly Powers, by the strictest observance
of treaty obligations, and all our efforts will be directed to this
end, and we pray the Almighty to crown them with success.
“9 _Djemaziel Evel_, 1293, _Hegira_.”
(2_nd June_ 1876.)
Besides the retention of their portfolios by all the Ministers, Kemal
Bey (the best known and most distinguished poet and litterateur
of Turkey) and Zia Bey (equally celebrated as a poet and patriot)
were appointed as his private secretaries, and Sadullah Bey (well
known for his liberal sympathies and opinions) made chief of the
Sultan’s secretariat—important guarantees for the smooth working of
the machinery of State, and security against the revival of the old
pernicious intrigues of the Palace against the Ministers of the Porte.
Murad had, moreover, undertaken to promulgate the Constitution prepared
by Midhat and his colleagues at the earliest date compatible with the
despatch of urgent public business.
So far everything seemed to favour the Reformers. A revolution of the
most fundamental character, involving the destruction of autocratic
power in Turkey, and carrying the promise of a Constitution which would
lay the foundations at any rate of stable government in the country,
effected not only without bloodshed or disturbance of any kind, but
with the assent and approval of all classes and creeds in the land, and
with a new sovereign on the throne known sincerely to share the views
of his Ministers and the aspirations of his people, all this seemed to
ensure the prospect of healing the wounds of the much afflicted land of
the Osmanli, and of opening up a new era of progress and prosperity in
the East.
But suddenly a cloud, not bigger than a man’s hand, lowered over the
destinies of the country, and from this time the stars in their courses
fought against Turkey, and violently set back the date of the promised
era of prosperity.
On the eventful night of the 30th‐31st May, during the drive with
Murad to the Seraskierat, Hussein Avni had perceived that the Prince
was suffering from violent nervous excitement, and these symptoms
were still further accentuated in the return journey to the Palace of
Dolma‐Bagtche after the ceremony of investiture was over—so much so
that Midhat Pasha, who accompanied him, thought it prudent to remain in
the Palace, without quitting it, for three days. The physicians called
in consultation did not at first take a grave view of the case, and
sanguine hopes were entertained that, in a short time, by pursuing
the regimen of repose and hygiene recommended by these authorities,
Sultan Murad would rapidly recover his health and be able to discharge
the duties incumbent on him. Dr Lamsdorf of Vienna, the celebrated
specialist, made a very favourable diagnosis of the case. A happy issue
of this most unfortunate and inopportune malady was now generally
hoped for and expected, when two startling events occurred in rapid
succession, each seriously aggravating and affecting the Sultan Murad’s
nervous condition of health, and together fatally compromising the hope
of rapid recovery.
The first of these tragedies referred to was enacted in the Palace of
Tcheragan, five days after the dethronement of the late Sultan. Abdul
Aziz, whose imperious temper could ill brook the change of destiny
that had overtaken him, had already made one or two unsuccessful
attempts, which were with difficulty thwarted, to throw himself out of
the windows of the Palace. On the morning of the 5th June, he asked
for a pair of scissors with which to trim his beard. On the attendants
demurring to comply with this request, the Valide Sultan ordered the
scissors to be given to her son. Shortly after this, the ladies of her
suite, looking out of a window of a corridor that commanded a view on
the room occupied by the late Sultan, saw him sitting quietly in an
armchair with his back turned to the window; but shortly afterwards,
perceiving that his head had dropped on his lap, they ran to the door
and tried to open it. Finding it locked, and fearing a catastrophe,
they ran screaming to the Valide Sultan and informed her of what they
suspected. Orders being given to break into the room, they found Abdul
Aziz sitting in the posture already described, and in a pool of blood
flowing from two wounds in his arms, evidently caused by the scissors,
which had fallen beside him on the floor. The physicians, who were
hastily summoned, could only confirm the apprehension that life was
extinct, and the Ministers, immediately apprised of the fact of the
tragedy, ordered an immediate examination of the body to be made by
all the available medical men in Constantinople, hastily summoned to
draw up an official report on the subject. Seventeen medical men of
all nationalities, comprising all the most distinguished in the city
and in the Embassies of the great Powers, signed a unanimous report to
the effect that death was undoubtedly due to suicide, and handed the
following certificate:—
“The year 1876 A.D., on the 23rd of May, O.S., the 4th of June, N.S.,
or the year of the Hegira, the 11th of the month of Djemazi‐el‐ewel
1293, Sunday, at 11 o’clock A.M., we, the undersigned doctors of
medicine, namely, Marco Pasha, Nouri Pasha, Julius Millingen,
Caratheodori, Sotto, Dickson, Marroin, Nouridjian, Spadare, Vitalis,
S. Spagnolo, Marc Markel, Jatropoulo, Miltiadi Bey, Abdinour Effendi,
Mustafa Effendi, Servet Bey, Mehmed Bey and Jacques de Castro,
being summoned by the ministry by order of His Imperial Majesty
to ascertain the cause of the death of the ex‐Sultan Abdul Aziz,
proceeded to the guard‐house situated near the Imperial Palace
of Tcheragan. There we were ushered into a chamber on the ground
floor and found a body lying on a mattress on the floor. The body
was covered with a new white linen cloth. On removing this cloth
we recognised the ex‐Sultan Abdul Aziz. All the parts of the body
were cold and bloodless, pale, or covered with coagulated blood.
The corpse was not rigid, the eyelids were partially unclosed, the
corneæ were slightly opaque, the mouth partly open. Linen cloths,
soaked in blood covered the arms and legs. On lifting the linen
coverings on the arms we discovered a gash near the joint of the left
arm five centimetres long and three centimetres deep. The edges of
the wound were hacked and irregular. The direction of the wound was
from above to below, and from inside to outside. The veins of this
region were cut, and the cubital artery at its emerging point was
three‐fourths severed. At the joint of the right arm we discovered a
wound, slightly oblique, also hacked, two centimetres long and one
centimetre deep. On this side the wounds were only in the smaller
veins; the arteries were intact.
“We were shown a pair of scissors ten centimetres long, very sharp,
one point of which bore a small lateral projection near its summit.
The scissors were stained with blood, and we were told that the
ex‐Sultan Abdul Aziz had with these scissors inflicted upon himself
the wounds above described.
“We then proceeded to the residence of the late Sultan, where we were
ushered into a large chamber looking on to the sea. There we found in
the corner of a sofa, placed near a window, a pool of blood spread
over that article of furniture, and on the matting of the floor a
great quantity of coagulated blood in one mass, and further several
stains spread over the room.
“From what precedes we are unanimously of opinion:—
“1. That the death of the ex‐Sultan Abdul Aziz was caused by the loss
of blood produced by the wounds of the blood‐vessels at the joints of
the arms.
“2. That the instrument shown to us could certainly produce such
wounds.
“3. That the direction and nature of the wounds, together with the
instrument which is said to have produced them, lead us to conclude
that suicide had been committed.
“In witness whereof we have accordingly drawn up and signed the
present minute of proceedings at the guard‐house of Tcheragan on the
day, month and year aforesaid.
“_Signed_:
“Dr Marco, Nouri, A. Sotto, Physician attached to the Imperial
and Royal Embassy of Austria‐Hungary; Dr Spagnolo, Marc Markel,
Jatropoulo, Abdinour, Servet, J. de Castro, A. Marroin, Julius
Millingen, C. Caratheodori; E. D. Dickson, Physician of the British
Embassy; Dr O. Vitalis, Physician of the Sanitary Board; Dr E.
Spadare, J. Nouridjian, Miltiadi Bey, Mustafa, Mehmed.”
The body was transferred to Top‐Kapou and buried in the mausoleum of
Sultan Mahmoud.
Ten days after the tragedy at the Palace of Tcheragan the news of
which had deeply affected Sultan Murad, another quickly followed, in
some respects of a still more startling character, and calculated to
prostrate still further a mind already unhinged.
A Circassian captain, formerly aide‐de‐camp of the Sultan Abdul Aziz,
one Hassan by name, on whom certain suspicion of violent intentions
rested, had been ordered to Bagdad, and on his showing signs of
recalcitrancy, he was imprisoned for insubordination by orders of
Hussein Avni, the Minister of War. Feigning submission, he was released
after two days’ detention. On the 15th June, during a Cabinet Council
which was being held at the house of Midhat Pasha, and at which all the
Ministers were present, Tcherkess Hassan, armed with no less than six
revolvers, forcing the consigne without much difficulty, managed to
penetrate into the room where the Council was sitting, and advancing
straight up to Hussein Avni, discharged a barrel of a revolver at
him, and turning sharply on Reshid Pasha, the Minister of Foreign
Affairs, shot him dead on the spot. The Minister of Marine, Kaisserli
Ahmed, threw himself on the assassin and tried to disarm him, but he
was immediately stabbed with a poniard that Hassan carried in his
left hand. Hussein Avni, although severely wounded, managed to make
his way to the staircase, but Hassan, following him, struck at him
furiously in the neck with his dagger and despatched him. Returning to
the Council room he discharged his revolvers promiscuously all around
him, smashing the chandelier suspended in the middle of the room, and
consequently plunging the room into darkness. It was this that probably
saved the lives of the remaining Ministers, for Kaisserli Ahmed, though
wounded, and Mehemet Rushdi, and Halid succeeded in escaping into
an adjoining boudoir, where they barricaded the door against their
furious assailant, who, having despatched the War Minister, seemed
chiefly bent on wreaking vengeance on the Minister of Marine. Midhat
escaped by a miracle, and by slipping off his coat, the sleeve of which
he left in the hand of Hassan who had seized it in the darkness. One
of Midhat’s servants, Ahmed Aga, on hearing the firing, had rushed
into the room and tried to seize the assassin from behind, but Hassan
turned sharply on him and shot him dead. The same fate attended Chukri
Bey, the aide‐de‐camp of the Minister of Marine, who also rushed in to
the rescue. At last a guard of _gendarmerie_ appeared on the scene,
and a regular fusillade ensued between the Circassian at bay and the
_gendarmes_ reinforced by a picket of soldiers; it was only then, after
a regular pitched battle, that this determined criminal was at length
overpowered and seized.
He was very soon afterwards tried, and hanged in due course, stoutly
denying to the last that he had any accomplices.
The effect of these compound tragedies on the mind of the Sultan Murad
was disastrous. His recovery, sanguine hopes of which had been held
out by Dr Lamsdorf, the famous specialist summoned from Vienna to give
his opinion on the state of the Sultan’s health, seemed destined to
be indefinitely postponed. Two parties, holding distinct views on the
situation and the manner it should be dealt with, now showed themselves
among the Ministers and the high Court officials. Mehemet Rushdi
especially, the old experienced vizier and the majority of Ministers
well aware of the favourable disposition of Sultan Murad towards the
cause of reform, and very averse to taking a plunge in the dark, leant
to the opinion that patience should be exercised and reasonable time
given for the recovery of the Sultan’s health.
But another and very active party had in the meantime been formed, of
which Damad Mahmoud Djelaleddin Pasha (the Sultan’s brother‐in‐law)
was the moving spirit, and which included, together with some high
Palace officials, one or two of the influential marshals, such as Redif
Pasha, the commander of the Constantinople _corps d’armée_ and under
the influence of Damad Mahmoud Djelaleddin. This party—as far as it
could be said to have been based on any particular political opinions,
and not on the simple ground of ambition and the desire to exercise a
preponderating influence in the future _régime_—consisted of the men
who had acquiesced, and even participated, in the dethronement of the
late Sultan, but did not share, and some of them were even bitterly
opposed to, the constitutional views advocated by Midhat and the
reforming party. Borne along by the current of events which they would
have been impotent to resist, they would have constituted a helpless
minority in the State without power or influence, if they had had to
do with a reforming Sultan on the throne, a palace where men like Zia
Bey, and Kemal Bey were the guiding spirits, and the party of reform in
strong possession of the Porte. The prospect, however, of being able
to change the occupant of the throne and place their own candidate
upon it afforded them the precious opportunity of upsetting the whole
edifice of reform, of themselves seizing the chief power of the State,
and turning the revolution that had been accomplished to their own
exclusive advantage. It was less a victory of reaction than a triumph
of ambition.
Damad Mahmoud Djelaleddin was a very ignorant and uncultivated man,
and though careless and without a conviction in respect to political
opinions, he enjoyed the reputation of being neither careless nor
indifferent with respect to matters of personal or pecuniary concern to
himself. On the other hand, he was endowed with great, almost brutal,
determination of character, and was utterly reckless as to the means
of carrying out his ends. His position of Damad (brother‐in‐law to the
Sultan) gave him great influence in the Palace, and at the same time
secured him weight in the Councils of the State. He was the very soul
of the anti‐reform conspiracy.
Having described Damad Mahmoud Djelaleddin, the character of his
lieutenant, Redif Pasha, can be described in a sentence: he was Damad
Mahmoud _in petto_. Whatever qualities distinguished the master were
conspicuous in the lieutenant, and only in a less degree, inasmuch
as he was physically of a somewhat less robust nature. He had, like
Mahmoud, lent himself with all the weight of his military position to
the dethronement of Abdul Aziz, but he viewed with an evil eye the
advance of reform, and still more the triumph of the reformers.
These two men practically constituted the central power of the
conspiracy, for those who co‐operated with them were scarcely admitted
into the inner councils or secret plans of the Duumvirate, although
themselves the willing participators in the conspiracy.
Among them was Djevdet Pasha, Minister of Justice, who, during all the
stirring events of the Vizierate of Mehemet Rushdi, had been lying low
in the Cabinet waiting for the opportune moment to show his colours and
take part in the overthrow of the ministry.
Whilst enumerating the instruments of Mahmoud’s ambition, it would be
impossible to omit the names of two other men who, although they had
not yet emerged into the notoriety which they were soon to enjoy, were
indispensable tools of Mahmoud’s ambition, and powerfully contributed
to the success of his plans. These were the two Saïds. The one was
brother‐in‐law of Mahmoud, and destined for the important post of
first aide‐de‐camp to the Sultan Abdul Hamid. He was generally known
as “Ingless Saïd Pasha,” for his having been educated at Woolwich,
and though entirely wanting in initiative or political convictions,
was naturally of a frank and loyal disposition, not deficient in
energy, and an invaluable coadjutor in carrying out the views of his
brother‐in‐law. With Redif Pasha he formed the third member of the
Triumvirate, which Mahmoud intended should, during the succeeding
reign, govern the country. The other Saïd, of whom a great deal more
will have to be said hereafter, was known, on account of his small
stature, as “Saïd Kutchouk” (small), and when he reaches the dignity of
Pasha, it will be necessary to distinguish him from the other Saïd by
this appellation. He was supposed to be the _âme damnée_ of Mahmoud,
especially by Mahmoud himself, who destined him for the important
confidential post of First Secretary to the Sultan.
Without any doubt, Damad’s plans were well conceived, and his net was
well spread. The post of Vice‐Sultan he reserved for himself.
Behind these were marshalled the whole phalanx of Reaction, and the
Konak of Mahmoud become the Cave of Adullam of all the malcontents.
The means of action were not wanting to the conspirators in this
respect; indeed, the material to their hand was only too abundant.
A sovereign of unsound mind is not recognised by the Ottoman
Constitution. The girding of the Padishah with the sword of Osman, as
an essential part of the ceremony of investiture, was to the Ottoman
sovereigns what the sacred oil of Rheims was to the kings of France,
and this ceremony had not taken place.
No Sultan, moreover, had ever before absented himself from attendance
at the mosque on Friday, and the Selamlik that follows. The public
anxiety and excitement on the subject were genuine and universal.
Public affairs, too, were suffering: the Constitution was, in a double
sense, suspended; the new Constitution could not be promulgated,
and the old Constitution, such as it was, could not be worked; the
mainspring of the machinery of State was deranged. Foreign diplomacy,
too, was beginning to take an active part in the matter. The
ambassadors and envoys from foreign States were asking to whom, and
when, they could present their credentials. The Russian Embassy—that
seemed to have better information relative to Prince Hamid’s character
than Ministers themselves—was particularly persistent and active in
this respect. It was evident that the crisis could not be indefinitely
prolonged.
In these circumstances, it was resolved by Ministers that Midhat should
go to Muslou‐Oglou, where Prince Hamid, heir presumptive to the throne,
resided, in order to ascertain by a personal interview with him whether
Ministers could rely on his co‐operation to carry out the important
reforms that they had in hand, should it become absolutely necessary to
remove Murad from the throne, and in that event, to agree to certain
clear and definite stipulations with the Prince as conditions of their
support.
These stipulations were the following:—
1. To promulgate without delay the new Constitution.
2. To act in matters of State only with the advice of his responsible
advisers.
3. To appoint Zia Bey and Kemal Bey his private secretaries, and to
make Sadullah Bey the head of the Palace Secretariat.
The importance attached by Midhat and Rushdi to this last condition
was very great. It afforded a guarantee against those intrigues of
the Palace which had ship‐wrecked so many schemes of reform, and
prevented, so far as was possible, a renewal of that mute opposition
between the Palace and the Porte which had existed for centuries, and
had paralysed the efforts of so many Ministers.
At this historical interview at Muslou‐Oglou Prince Hamid evidently
“played a deep game” with Midhat Pasha. He promised all and more than
all that was asked of him. He pretended to opinions more advanced
than the most advanced of his Ministers, and in favour of even a more
democratic Constitution than the one elaborated. The other condition he
accepted without demur.
On receiving these clear and emphatic declarations, Midhat returned
to Stamboul and reported the result of his interview to the assembled
Ministers, who thereupon resolved to take the decisive step and put
Prince Hamid on the throne in the place of his brother Murad.
As on the occasion of the dethronement of the Sultan Abdul Aziz, it was
necessary to obtain a _Fetva_ from the Sheik‐ul‐Islam to the effect
that the contemplated step was in accordance with the Sacred Law.
Mehemet Rushdi thereupon demanded an official report from six principal
physicians in Constantinople—of whom four belonged to the Embassies of
the Great Powers—who, after examination of Murad, handed to him the
following certificates:—
“On the 31st of the month August, 1876, Chaban 11: 1293 Hegira, we
have made a report on the health of His Majesty Sultan Murad, and
come to certain conclusions which we hereby confirm, and add thereto
the following opinion, viz. that even should the Sultan Murad after a
long lapse of time, contrary to expectation, recover his intellectual
faculties, these can never recover their normal condition.”
“(Signed) CASTRO.
AKIF.
DICKSON, _Physician to English Embassy_.
MARROIN, _Physician to French Embassy_.
MUHLIG, _Physician to German Embassy_.
SOTTO, _Physician to Austro‐Hungarian Embassy_.”
Thereupon Mehemet Rushdi made a speech to the people gathered together
to hear the report of these physicians at the Palace of Top‐Kapou.
“Our sovereign, the Emperor Murad,” he said, “has been enabled
to reign for only twelve days, but during that time he has been
afflicted with an illness which, in spite of all the efforts of human
science, has shown no amendment. His intellectual faculties are
in a state of great feebleness, and the physicians pronounce them
incurable. Nevertheless we have waited for the expiration of the
legal delay, and this delay has now expired. This is the sum total
of the truth of the matter. Let us be informed of what, under such
circumstances, the law of the Cheri dictates.”
The assembled crowd expressed its sense of the justice of these words,
and the Sheik‐ul‐Islam, Hassan Hairullah, gave the following _Fetva_:—
“If the Commander of the Faithful is suffering from mental
alienation and if the exercise of his function is thereby rendered
impracticable, can he be deposed?
“Answer: The Cheri says ‘Yes.’
“(Signed) HASSAN HAIRULLAH,
“To whom God grant His indulgence.
“12 _Chaban_ 1293, _Hegira_.”
(1_st September_ 1876.)
CHAPTER IV
ABDUL HAMID SULTAN
The act of dethronement of Sultan Murad V. was now accomplished. On
Thursday, 1st September 1876, Prince Hamid, surrounded by all the great
Civil and Military dignitaries of the State, descended the Grand Rue
of Pera on horseback, on his way to Top‐Kapou at Stamboul. The people
thronged in large crowds to see the procession, but dazed by the series
of dramatic events that were so rapidly succeeding one another, they
viewed the spectacle with silence and without enthusiasm. There seemed
a feeling of anxiety in the air as of the prescience of future evils.
From Stamboul the Prince passed in a State _caïque_ to the Palace of
Dolma‐Bagtche. Monday, the 15th of the month Chaban, was fixed for
the reception of the Biat (first ceremony of the investiture), and on
that day a deputation of notabilities of Finance, accompanied by the
chiefs of the five non‐Mussulman communities, headed by Jean Lorando,
presented the Sultan elect with an address of congratulation in the
name of the city of Galata, and to this the Sultan made the following
reply:—
“I thank you for your congratulations; I have only one desire, and
that is the progress of our country and peace for all our subjects.
They will perceive by the logic of facts the fulfilment of the
promise of the reforms made to them. They, too, on their part,
must, in order to enjoy these privileges, give proof of the strict
observance of the duties incumbent on them.”
To his Ministers he made a short speech, counselling union and
agreement among themselves as the condition and symbol of union among
all the subjects of the empire, and “counselled and ordered” them to
prove their union by their acts.
The following Thursday, 18th of the month Chaban, was fixed for the
great ceremony of investiture. On the morning of that day Abdul Hamid
embarked in a _caïque_ for Eyoub, the suburb on the Golden Horn, where
the sword of Osman and the other sacred relics are kept, and on his
passage thither he was saluted by the guns of the fleet anchored there,
and the shout of the sailors manning the yards, “Padishahim tchok
Yasha!”
After the important ceremony here was over, and the investiture of the
new Padishah was thus completed, he proceeded, according to usage, to
the mausoleum of Selim I., the founder of the Ottoman Caliphate, and
thence to the mausoleum of Abdul Medjid, his father and the father
of Murad, and lastly to the Palace of Top‐Kapou, where the mantle of
the Prophet and the sacred Banner are deposited; and at night, the
ceremony of this important day being over, he returned to the Palace of
Dolma‐Bagtche, where the ceremony of the investiture was completed.
Girt with the sword of Osman, Hamid II. reigned over Turkey, and the
dark gloom of the Hamidian epoch was now about to settle over the land
of the Osmanli.
On leaving the Palace of Dolma‐Bagtche that night old Mehemet Rushdi,
turning to his colleagues, said to them: “We have been in a great hurry
to get rid of Murad. May we never have cause to repent what we have
done.”
With these quasi‐prophetic words on his lips, feeling no doubt that
a new era of struggles was about to open for which younger men were
required, the veteran Grand Vizier, who had piloted the country
through one _coup d’état_, and had very unwillingly assisted at a
second dethronement, in consideration of his great age and feeble state
of health, requested to be relieved of the duties of Grand Vizier.
His request was granted, but three months after, Midhat, universally
designated for the post, was nominated as his successor. These three
months were passed under the Grand Vizierate of Mehemet Rushdi Pasha,
but it was Midhat who was leader of the Cabinet, and Mehemet Rushdi was
only the mouthpiece of Midhat, until the latter finally replaced him on
the 16th December 1876.
The first audience accorded by the new sovereign to foreign envoys
was to Count Zichy, the Austro‐Hungarian Ambassador, accompanied by
the Secretary of his Embassy. Safvet Pasha, the Minister of Foreign
Affairs, was present. The audience lasted one hour, and turned
exclusively on the affairs of Herzegovina, the ambassador laying
stress on the gravity of the events passing there, the anxiety and
expenses that disturbances on its borders caused the Dual Empire,
and exhortations to the new sovereign to listen to the advice of the
friendly Powers. All this was, as we have seen, in the strictest
conformity with the _rôle_ that Austria had been playing for two years.
Having set light to the gunpowder in her neighbour’s house, she quoted
to that neighbour the familiar proverb, “Proximus ardet Ucalegon,” and
warned him of the consequences.
The next audience was granted to the Russian Ambassador, General
Ignatieff, recently returned from St Petersburg with the last
instructions from his Court. The tone that the ambassador and envoys of
Russia, the Strogonoffs, and Mentchikoffs, and Ignatieffs, had rendered
familiar to the Porte on its communications on critical occasions, was
not absent on this occasion:
“His Majesty the Emperor, my master, officially informed of Your
Majesty’s accession to the throne, has conferred on me the signal
honour to represent him at Your Majesty’s court. The friendly
relations of the two countries may continue on the condition of the
interests of both being assured. His Majesty the Emperor cannot
view with indifference what is passing in the Ottoman Empire,
possessing, as it does, the commercial routes of the Black Sea and
the Mediterranean, and a portion of the inhabitants of which is of
the same religion as his own.
“It is to the interest of our country that peace should reign in
Turkey, and my country desires that late sad events should not be
renewed, and that peace should be assured. His Majesty the Emperor is
aware of the difficulties and critical moments that accompanied the
accession of Your Majesty, and is convinced that the troubles will
disappear, and that the re‐establishment of peace in the interior
will be secured. His Majesty the Emperor prays for the success of
Your Majesty.”
To this speech the Sultan made answer in a few appropriate words:
“More even than the Emperor of Russia ... I desire the progress of
Turkey, peace in my provinces, and my most ardent desire is to secure
the happiness of my people.”
Hardly had Abdul Hamid mounted the throne than the conflict between
the two parties already described, commenced. The first act of th
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