Chapter IX: Constantinople in 1884 (2)

“‘There is no solution,’ he said, ‘of the Egyptian question except through the Sultan. Egypt at the present moment is on strike, and so will remain as long as the Sultan is not invited to establish a new order of things. If England were to annex the country outright, she might perhaps manage it, but short of annexation she cannot get on without help—help from Europe, and help from Constantinople. The Sultan is the true solver of the riddle now, as he was in 1878, and whoever undertakes to manage Egypt must reckon with him. The simplest solution would be for the European Powers to beg the Sultan to name a new Khedive. Anyone whom the Sultan named would meet with a good reception. If the Sultan were to name Ismaïl once more I should bow to his decision, although I should consider it a great misfortune for Egypt. Ismaïl’s partisans are the capitalists and speculators of Europe; all those who want the reign of pillage to begin again. The people do not wish for them, and would not long endure him. But they would accept him from the Sultan, and I too. Ismaïl was always false from a child. We were at school together; he never quarrelled, but if a boy insulted him, he went quietly and stole his exercises out of his desk so as to bring him into trouble. We are both fifty-four years old, he being two months younger than me, but he is old from the life he has led. I have all my life been fond of sport, riding, moving about. This keeps a man vigorous. It is a mistake to say I do not care to go back to Egypt; I do care, and I feel sure it is my destiny, but I do not wish to make a fiasco. They say I might have come forward before the war. I was twice asked, but not through the intermediary of any one I could depend upon. Once it was through Monsieur Ninet. He is very likely a good man, but I ask you, was he a proper person to represent Egypt in a serious matter? I tried hard to get into direct relations with Arabi, but never succeeded. I will come forward if asked to do so by the Egyptians, or if named by the Sultan.’ I asked him what he thought should be the form of Government for Egypt. He said: ‘No constitution as yet. Egypt wants a strong Government just now. She should be ruled by a Liberal despot, a council if you will, but absolute power in the ruler. Eastern nations understand this, not the other. As to finance, I see no difficulty. I do not believe in Egypt’s exhaustion. She could pay all her debts with economy. Certainly, if the interest on the debt could be lowered for a few years, she would recover. But the peasants’ debts must be settled at once. As to the Soudan, my policy would be that of my father, to hold the whole Nile Valley as a trade route, as far as the Equator if necessary, but not to leave the river banks. The Upper Nile is quite necessary to Egypt; it must be reconquered.’ I understood him to expect this to be done by Turkish troops.

“On the whole my impression of Halim is favourable. He is outspoken, practical, and seems gifted with common sense. I should say he was honest; he has very little of the prince about him, much more of the _bourgeois_. Perhaps this is what Egypt requires. Ismaïl Jowdat and Mustafa Bey, Arabi’s doctor, who are apparently living dependent on Halim, accompanied us to the door and thanked me very warmly for having saved their lives after the war.

“_21st Oct._—Went to see the Yeni-Jami and St. Sophia’s. In the latter the _Asr_ was going on. Perhaps a hundred persons present. I wished I could have joined in this, but only looked on from the gallery.

“Miss Laing called, who had been Princess Nazli’s governess, and is now living with Princess Halim. She told us much that was interesting. She had been very intimate with Arabi, and is very grateful to him for having protected her during the war. She has no doubt in the world about the Khedive’s complicity in the Alexandria riot. It was never intended to go as far as it went, but was certainly planned. Dufferin extracted a promise from her not to correspond with Arabi after his exile. Arabi was a quite honest man, but no administrator, and not quite _à la hauteur de la situation_. He would have carried the revolution through, however, if Egypt alone had been concerned. The fellahin would certainly support Halim, especially if he came back with Arabi.

“_22nd Oct._—Rode to Roumeli Hissar again, and breakfasted with Vefyk. He gave us eleven Turkish dishes, a very good repast, and entertained us with much historical disquisition. The word Arab and Europe he told us are identical, and signify the Unknown Land. The first Arabs, the Himyarites, were Hamites, and are the same people with the Abyssinians. Queen Belkis was an Himyarite, but they were later invaded from Chaldea by a Semitic race under Adnan. The Himyarites are the same with the Phoenicians, as their names denote, both meaning red.[85] Perseus and Andromeda were the Persians and the Medes, and he, Vefyk, had been shocked to find Grote, in his ‘History of Greece,’ repeating the old fables. He assured us that history, as he was explaining it to us, had always been taught in the Oriental schools. Abraham was a new man, and only got his nobility by marrying a daughter of the Himyarite king. From that he went on to the modern history of his own doings on the Euphrates, how he had divided the tribes, and built forts on the river and starved out the Anazeh. On Midhat he was very severe as a make- believe reformer. He himself, on the contrary, had done real good; he had rebuilt the ruins of Nissa and the Baths of Broussa, and had made roads as short cuts from village to village across the hills. Midhat only made plans, and was in the hands of adventurers. He also gave us a history of his doings with Nejd and the Ibn Rashids and the Montefiks—and repeated what he had told me before about the Sultan.

“After breakfast we went on to Halim’s, and made acquaintance with his wife and son. The Princess is certainly a superior person, and took part in our conversation. The son is very like himself; they are at their best on the subject of Bedouin life, horses, and sport. He told us about the eighty-four mile race between his horse and the English mare in 1864. His horse was a bay Hadban from the Anazeh, but bought by a dealer. The English mare’s name was Alabama, which seems to have belonged to several owners, of whom the principal was Mr. Smart. After about sixty miles, Alabama stopped, and Hadban came in gaily. An objection was raised on the score of the jockey having lost five pounds in weight, but eventually the money was paid. The race was run from Suez to Cairo in seven hours fifty minutes. This is not very different from the account given me by Hetherington, who trained Alabama, except that according to him Alabama was some way ahead of Hadban when she stopped, and nearer home. Hetherington said that he had ridden out to meet the horses coming in, and stopped the mare to give her some gruel, after which she could not move, but it is evident he would not have stopped her if she had not been pretty nearly done. Halim assured us that he had ridden one of his Arab horses once, at trot and canter, for twenty-four hours, another for eighteen hours.

“Coming in after dark, Count Corti came. He has a poor opinion of Vefyk, whom he calls mad. Of Halim, however, his opinion is high, and he had reported it so to his Government when they had enquired about him. But the Italian Government was all for Ismaïl.” The reason of the patronage given by the Italian Government to the ex-Khedive was, that at the time when Ismaïl could command money in plenty, he had lent a large sum to the King of Italy.

“We have a fancy for taking a house at Bebek, just under Roumeli Hissar.

“_23rd Oct._—Went across the water to Kadikeui to see the Polish patriot Langiewitz and his horses, for he has a small Arab stud. He was at the head of the revolt of 1863, an unfortunate affair, which was not fully joined in by the nobles, and was disapproved by the Potockis and others. He is a very little man, with big beard and spectacles, more like a Professor than a General, with an English wife—worthy people, very. He has got a nice old-fashioned Turkish house, with large grounds, for which he pays a rent of £160, and one might do worse than end one’s days in such a retirement. He talked sympathetically of Arabi and the Egyptian war. About Constantinople, he told us that a census of the population had recently been taken, which showed the Mohammedans already in a minority there. Here at Scutari and Kadikeui the decaying number was equally noticeable. His wife had been thirty years in the country, he nearly twenty. The state of things was wholly hopeless for the Turks.

“On coming in I found the Russian Ambassador, with whom I discussed the same point, but he would not admit the population to be diminishing, though he agreed that all lands habitable by Europeans would sooner or later be possessed by them. He talked of the progress made by the Germans in Asia Minor. We were talking about the Egyptian Revolution, as to which he was anxious to hear the truth, when we were interrupted.

“Whittaker, who came in next, told some amusing stories of the Sultan and his dealings with the Ambassadors. To avoid talking business with them, he arranges to have inconvenient people present, or to be interrupted, and when hard pressed a band of music strikes up. None of the Ambassadors are on confidential terms with the Sultan. The last who was so was Layard, and he had disgusted the Sultan with all foreign intimacy. Layard, when he was Ambassador here, had his breakfast table supplied daily by the Sultan—butter, milk, bread, and the rest—and dined with him constantly; and there was a constant flow of presents, sometimes of value. This while Disraeli was in power; but when Gladstone came into office, Layard, who had hitherto supported the Sultan at the Foreign Office, had, in the hope of keeping his place, written the dispatch against him which Granville so treacherously published. Since which the Sultan has trusted nobody. He treats his own ministers as slaves, and, when one of his Viziers wrote on some occasion resigning his office, all the answer he got was, ‘When I want you to leave me, you dog, I will let you know.’

“_24th Oct._—Selim Faris called with great talk about my being received at the palace, and advising me to write to Munir Pasha asking an audience. I asked Faris to tell me frankly all his opinion of the Sultan’s character and of the chance of my interview having some good effect, and I think he was sincere in what he told me. He said: ‘The Sultan is a man who has really good intentions and who really wishes to serve the interests of the Mohammedans and of religion generally, and especially of the Caliphate. But he is quite ignorant of the world, and, to tell the whole truth, he is crazy. He cannot keep to any plan or line of conduct, and he is ruining the Mohammedans and religion, and his own Caliphate. The question of the Caliphate is one which is coming on now very rapidly. The English Government, from its connection with India, must eventually become its protector, whether it intends it or not, and will guard the shores of the Red Sea, for the Caliphate must return to Arabia. I should advise you nevertheless to see the Sultan if possible. You might gain an influence over him, though there is nothing certain in his conduct, and things cannot be worse than they are now. There is a foundation of good in his character on which to work, and you need not believe the stories of his caring only for money. He cares rather to spend it. Send in your letter to Munir, and when the audience is agreed to we will talk over what you should say to the Sultan, or rather what you should not say.’ This decides me to stay on another week here in the chance of succeeding. He also talked about Dufferin and the work Mackenzie Wallace had done for him here, and how he had written most of his Egyptian report for him. Wallace has now gone as Dufferin’s regular secretary to India at £3,000 a year.

“At noon we went to the Selamlik to see the Sultan go to mosque, just outside his palace walls. It was a very simple affair, a couple of companies of rather ill-groomed soldiers, a few men on seedy horses, half a dozen dust carts filled with sand to sprinkle the road, two carriages full of ladies who did not enter the mosque, about fifty officials in uniform, including Tahir Pasha, a Grand Chamberlain, and Hafiz Behram-Agha, the Sultan’s chief Eunuch. This last is a grave, respectable-looking person in black clothes, with considerable dignity of manner. He stood on the doorstep outside during prayer with the rest of the courtiers. Last of all the Sultan drove up in a victoria with the hood up, two white horses of nondescript breed, two elderly officials on the back seat, and a driver in a handsome Eastern dress. The Sultan got out immediately the carriage stopped, turned an instant to salute the people, and disappeared inside the mosque door. He is small and slight, but being well shaped looks taller than he is. His face is handsome, very black eyes, beard, and eyebrows, a nose of prodigious length and a calm passionless expression—a dignified apparition. But I saw it all from a considerable distance, and only for two seconds each time, going in and coming out. As he drove away there was a melancholy attempt at cheering, the hood was put down, and the Emir el Mumenin was rapidly driven away from men’s sight. We occupied a little pagoda opposite the mosque, with a couple of score of sight-seers and officials. Next me were Ismaïl Jowdat and Husseyn Pasha, one of the Sultan’s aides-de-camp.

“Afterwards Ismaïl Jowdat came to the hotel, and spent three hours giving me an account of the events of 1882 in Egypt.” These are embodied in my “Secret History” and need not be repeated.[86]

“_25th Oct._—Rode to the Okmaidan and found the Jews keeping Sabbath in their best clothes. Some of them were catching goldfinches in a net, and we had the satisfaction of letting a bird go. These Jews talk Spanish; one of them told me that their families had come four hundred years ago from Spain.

“_26th Oct._—Count Corti came to take us in a steam launch to Therapia. We had luncheon with the Wyndhams and called on the Noailles. The arrangements of the French Embassy at Constantinople depend neither on the Sultan nor on the Ambassador, but on the fancy of his son, a youth of fifteen. Monsieur Doudou, as he is called, makes the rain and fine weather on the Bosphorus, goes out sailing in a boat by himself to the terror of his parents, who have him accompanied by another boat to pick him up. When he goes out riding two negroes run beside him for the same purpose, and when he goes out walking, he is surrounded by an Oriental retinue. If Monsieur Doudou stays out late there is no dinner at the Embassy, and the Ambassador cannot return to Pera until his son consents. They are very anxious just now to gain his consent to this necessary autumnal move, but Monsieur Doudou is out of humour, having styes in his eyes, and will not be cajoled. A few nights ago, his parents being out dining, he gave a ball at the Embassy to the housemaids, and ended by smashing all the bells. When the Ambassador returned, he enquired the meaning of the rumpus, and was told that it was his son; ‘Rien, que cela!’ said M. de Noailles, and went off pleased to his bed.

“On our way back to Constantinople Count Corti entertained us with stories of the Berlin Congress, and of Lord Salisbury’s antics there. Disraeli and Salisbury had gone there quite on their high horse to curb the territorial ambition of Russia, and the publication of the secret convention for the acquisition of Cyprus was a great shock to everybody. Salisbury broke it gently to Waddington before the news was published; and Waddington consulted his colleagues, it being generally agreed that there was no middle course between going to war and saying nothing. ‘_Il faut la guerre ou se taire_.’ But the publication was a great blow to Disraeli, who took to his bed, and did not appear for four or five days. Lord Salisbury, however, brazened it out and came to the Congress with an air of defiance. There was no rupture between him and Waddington, and they remained on apparently friendly terms—but Waddington had his revenge. He was sitting one day with Salisbury, and, the conversation leading that way, Waddington asked what the English Government would say to France taking Tunis, and Salisbury said he did not see the harm. Whereupon Waddington communicated this to Paris, and on his return the French Ambassador in London was instructed to write to Lord Salisbury reminding him of his words. Thus Salisbury was caught; ‘But,’ said Corti, ‘if he had known anything of his business, he would have declined to answer the note officially and would have pleaded a private conversation.’ He did not believe that any arrangement of condominion was come to between Salisbury and Waddington at that time, though I told him, without mentioning names, of the letter Lytton had shown me.[87] Count Corti is interesting diplomatically, as he has been to more Congresses than any man in Europe. He said it was a pity the Sultan kept up his feud with the English Government, but seemed inclined to agree with me that our Government would have to come to terms with him about Egypt. He spoke very strongly in favour of Halim, and of the Sultan’s wish to make him Viceroy in Tewfik’s place. If it is true that Dufferin holds this view, our chances look brighter than I have imagined. There is a talk of Evelyn Baring as Ambassador here, a not unlikely thing considering what a failure his policy in Egypt has been. He, like Malet, has served the Government by holding his tongue, and letting his dispatches be mutilated and suppressed. So he will be rewarded.

“_27th Oct._—Selim Faris called to ask whether I had received any answer from the Sultan, but none has come. He said it was quite necessary the English Government should come to terms with the Mohammedans for both their sakes. This must eventually happen, as England would be obliged, whether she liked it or not, to make herself their protector. With regard to the Sultan he might be pacified by being allowed to appoint a new Viceroy in Egypt, but it would be most dangerous to allow him to administer the country. What he cared about most was to give the world some striking proof of his power. He would jump at the idea. At the same time Faris is convinced that he will never really forgive England, but will take his revenge whenever the opportunity offers. I asked him if the Sultan was on good terms with any of the foreign Ambassadors, and he said: ‘Yes, with the German—and quite lately with the Russian.’ There seems to be an alliance for the moment with Russia against England.

“Whittaker came in next, and I asked him the reason of Dufferin’s ill success here. He explained that he had begun badly. The Sultan was wanting in politeness to him, and he resented it, and Lady Dufferin was shown no attention. During the whole of her stay at Constantinople she was only once asked to the palace, and then the Sultan did not see her. But it was almost impossible to deal with Abdul Hamid. In the negotiation about Egypt he had changed his mind constantly, telegraphing orders and counter orders to Musurus after he had agreed with Dufferin. This made Dufferin say he lied. Then Dufferin with all his outside amiability was a very hard man. Whittaker says he might be cruel if occasion offered, and the transitions between the velvet and the iron were too abrupt. The Turks did not like this. For the last eight months he was neither invited to, nor went near, the Palace. Goschen was much more successful, though he, too, gave offence by going to the Palace in a shooting jacket; but Whittaker thinks that if he had stayed longer he would have been liked on account of his frank manner.

“Henderson also called. He said we had been very near war over the Dulcigno business. Goschen had given him orders at one time to pack and be ready to leave the Aleppo Consulate. Next Ismaïl Jowdat. I read him over the account of what he had told me on Friday about the events of 1881 and he corrected it on many points (see Appendix).

“_28th Oct._—Mustafa Bey, Arabi’s doctor, breakfasted with us. He is the most satisfactory man of all I have yet met, and, having been with Arabi throughout the war, he is excellent evidence. Arabi’s character, he said, was quite distinct from that of all those who surrounded him. He was the only one of those in high command who had real patriotism or real religion, who did not seek his personal interest, and who saw things clearly. His fault was that he was too confiding, too humane, and too little censorious of others. He, Mustafa, was with Arabi at Tel-el- Kebir to the last moment. No attack was expected, as Ali Yusuf, who commanded the _avant-garde_, had been bought by Sultan Pasha, and Saoud el Tehawi, who managed the scouting business, was also in the pay of both sides. Arabi was asleep still in his tent when they heard a sound of shots (not cannon he says) and presently soldiers running away accompanied by Bedouins. Arabi drew his sword and tried to rally them, begging them to fight for their country and their religion, but they shouted to him ‘_Ya ibn el kelb_’—‘Why should we have ourselves killed for you?’ The Bedouins, too, fired at him. It was the doctor who got Arabi to mount and ride off. He himself, after having got into a train which was stopped by the English, made his way to Zagazig on foot. He says I am quite correct in my estimate of the characters of the six exiles in Ceylon. Mahmud Fehmy and Abd-el-Aal are honest men. Mahmud Sami and Yakub Sami joined the movement from personal motives of spite against the Khedive; and Toulba was never anything but a worthless _gamin_. Arabi was wrong to trust them, but he had few good men to choose from, and when men swore oaths to him he trusted them. Thus he trusted the Khedive. Ali Fehmy was only half-hearted. He was certainly acting in concert with the Khedive in the affair of Abdin, but Arabi was not in their confidence. The thing had been arranged as long before as July, and Sherif was in the plot. Riaz wanted to make himself regent, just as Sultan Pasha afterwards expected to be made regent when Tewfik was to abdicate after Arabi’s trial. Sultan, at least, had told his friends this, showing them the Order of Michael and George he had received, ‘The same as had been given to the Sultan of Zanzibar.’

“He then gave us the whole history of the Tantah massacre in detail, which he knew first from the official enquiry made before Arabi when it happened, and at which he assisted, and secondly from Ahmed Minshawi with whom he had lived afterwards at Beyrout, and who came here with him, and who had repeatedly told him the story. The true facts were these:

“The Mudir of Tantah, Ibrahim Adhem, with Osman Rafaat, excited the populace against the Christians, as Ismaïl Jowdat related, telling them that Arabi had ordered it; and the Mudir shut himself up also as related. Minshawi lived at a village called Koreyshiyeh, and happening to come in that day by train with Abd-el-Aal Pasha’s son, Emir Bey, and Husseyn Wasif, a magistrate, they found Christians being killed, and Minshawi interfered. They, the populace, called out to him that Arabi had ordered it, but Minshawi had said to the effect of ‘Damn Arabi,’ and insisted on their stopping. He had then gone with Abu Diab, who had also been trying to stop the massacre, to the Mudirieh, and had kicked in the door of his room and expostulated with him for letting the thing go on—Abu Diab using strong language, for he was very angry. Then they telegraphed to Arabi at Kafr Dawar to send soldiers to stop the massacre, but the telegram had to go round by Ramleh, and was delayed. But at last the massacre was stopped. The whole thing was enquired into at Kafr Dawar immediately, and the Mudir was sent to Cairo and there imprisoned till the end of the war, Darwish Pasha replacing him. After the war Adhem was reinstated, and when the commission was sent to Tantah, Ismaïl Yusri, the President, who was a comparatively honest man, ascertained the truth and informed the Khedive that he should be obliged to find him, Adhem, guilty, and so begged to be replaced by another on the Commission. This was done, and an officer less scrupulous was appointed who accepted the false evidence Ibrahim Adhem was allowed to trump up against Abu Diab. Ibrahim Adhem, however, was deposed, and Husseyn Wasif (a Circassian, not the same as the magistrate) was appointed. He it was who was made a scape-goat of for Ibrahim Adhem’s sake, and was deprived by Clifford Lloyd and sent to the Soudan. Mehariz Bey, formerly sub-Mudir, is now Mudir of Boheyra. Minshawi is the son- in-law of Abdallah Pasha, the English renegade, and his son Emir still goes by the name of the Englishman.

“Mustafa Bey confirms all Ismaïl’s statements of the Khedive’s connection with the Alexandrian massacres. He was at Alexandria at the time, and was the doctor employed to examine the bodies. There were fifty-one Christian bodies, twenty-three Mohammedan, of which eight were _mustafezzin_, all the latter killed by pistol shots. The English doctor wanted to make out the Christian bodies had wounds made by _des armes blanches_, but this was not the case. Omar Lutfi certainly gave orders to the mustafezzin to come unarmed. I like the worthy doctor much. In face and figure he is not unlike Lord Lyons.

“We rode in Stamboul past the bazaars and the tower and the horse market, and dined with Whittaker. Sat next to Mr. Laing, Director of the _regie_, who seems a sensible man, and had a talk with a certain Mohammed Bey, more or less of a spy I believe of the palace. I told him a good deal of what I intend him to repeat there. Sinadino has gone bankrupt at Cairo, so there is still justice in the world!

“_29th Oct._—The Egyptian Princes, Osman and Kiamyl, came to see us. I never thought to like them so well, but they talked patriotically about the late war, and were really improved by the part they played. [Here follows the conversation I have recorded with Prince Kiamyl in my ‘Secret History.’] About Arabi’s trial Kiamyl said: ‘If you had only gone on, Tewfik would have been broken. He was in a terrible fright, knowing that his crimes would have been laid bare. It is a pity you allowed the compromise.’ The Sultan, the Princes told us, was mad with fear; the disease had begun fifteen years ago when a little girl he had was burned to death. The least mention in praise of any man was sufficient to arouse his suspicion. He had never received them except in public audience. To ask for a private audience was enough to ensure his displeasure. With them was Aarif Bey, who had been the Princes’ tutor, the same who came with them two years ago to Crabbet. He is a Kurd of Arab origin and a man of very superior education.[88] We have decided to go by French boat to Marseilles on Wednesday, as there is small chance of my getting an audience with the Sultan.

“_30th Oct._—With Count Corti to the Bazaars. Selim Faris came at five. He gave an amusing account of the Sultan’s manœuvres to set every one by the ears, which is his system, according to the _divide et impera_ rule. ‘You see the palace,’ he said. ‘The Sultan sits here with a plan before him, showing the rooms occupied by each of his household. If he finds two together making friends, he puts them far off each other. His whole object is to put next each other those who hate each other most. His chief chamberlain and his second chamberlain would poison each other if they could; they are lodged together in this corner. There is Ghazi Osman with Deli Nuzret whom he hates, and there again Abdallah Ibn Saoud and Sheykh Ahmed Assad, both Arabs and bitter enemies. Thus the Sultan comes to know everything, and there cannot be any plot against him he thinks. It was just the same in Egypt; when he sent Dervish Pasha, he also sent Sheykh Ahmed Assad, his greatest enemy, to watch, and, after them, Kadri Bey, his secretary, to watch them both, and even that was not enough, for they had not been there a fortnight when he sent a fourth, Ahmed Bey, one of his aides-de-camp. Kadri wrote to the Sultan complaining that this last was laughing at him, and insulting him publicly, but the Sultan rewarded the aide-de-camp, and Kadri has been in disgrace ever since. The Sultan has never seen him since his return to Constantinople. The others told him he was bribed, but Kadri took nothing but a few jewels. Dervish took money. He got £40,000 in _consolidés_ from Tewfik, besides jewels and articles of value, but he was clever enough to send presents by every post to the various members of the household. Kadri didn’t. I know everything that goes on in the palace through Zaffir Bey, the Sultan’s private secretary, the same who wrote to Arabi. He and his father have been friends with my father for forty years, and I have one other friend in the palace. It does not do to have more, and even these I am obliged to pretend not to know. I shall go to-morrow at six o’clock, before it is light, to find out about your letter to Munir Pasha. I will let you know at breakfast time. I should like you to see the Sultan for the sake of your friends in Ceylon and India. But the Sultan cannot help you, he is so busy and has no memory. He writes down everything that is told him in a diary, but he has no memory. He has always been very kind to me, but I have been in a mess with him several times. First because I would not write against Ismaïl when they were going to depose him, and for other things. But I am protected by Zaffir Bey, and he always intercedes till the Sultan forgives me and makes me presents. I have three jewelled boxes from him, and when I went to England last year he gave me £300; but I got into disgrace by dining with Lord Granville, and my newspaper was suspended. Now I am in favour again, and the _Jowaib_ is to go on next month as before, I am very fond of the Sultan. He is so kind, but he is a child. He does not understand, though he wants to know everything. He has spies in every house, either the cook or a slave. When he wants particularly to know about any of the Pashas, he makes them a present of one of his women, and then he hears everything. I was offered one once, but I would not have her. The Sultan has not so many women as some of the Sultans have had—perhaps twenty-five or thirty at a time, but there are several hundred more in the palace, servants and slaves of these. Abdul Hamid has never been married legally. I knew him long before he came to the throne. I never heard the story about his daughter being burnt, but it was Abdul Aziz’s death and Murad’s dethronement that have driven him mad.’

“Faris has promised to help me with all details in my History of the Egyptian Invasion. He tells me he can tell me everything that went on between the Sultan and Egypt, but I think I know all pretty well as it is. Faris also gave a curious account of the dethronement of Ismaïl in 1879. Ismaïl had written to Abdul Hamid to say that he was threatened with dethronement by the Powers, and to ask whether he should abdicate. But the Sultan would not hear of this, and sent him word that he was never to give in and that he would support him. At the same time he called a council to discuss the matter, and hid himself in the council room behind a curtain. Khair-ed-Din was Vizier, and spoke strongly in favour of yielding to the Powers, saying that if they did not the Powers would act without them, and the prestige of the Sultan would be lost. Abdul Hamid, hearing this, changed his mind, and the Ministers were sent at once to the telegraph office, and there wrote out the order deposing Ismaïl. This tallies closely with what Lascelles told me of Ismaïl’s surprise at the order. Faris was in the palace and heard everything as it happened. ‘And I could have cried my eyes out,’ he said, ‘with vexation, for Ismaïl was then my patron.’

“_31st Oct._—Stayed indoors. Our first visitor was Aarif Bey, and he and Ismaïl Jowdat, who came later, stayed to luncheon. Aarif is more interesting than I at all suspected in spite of his distinguished appearance and pretensions to Arab descent. He told me his history and that of his family. They are a family of Seyyids settled 700 years ago in Kurdistan, where, until sixty-five years ago, they were hereditary rulers, their capital being Mardin. But the centralization of the Empire destroyed them, and his grandfather was brought away to live at Constantinople by Sultan Mahmud. It is clear, however, that they have preserved their descent pure, and he spoke in scorn of the mongrel Turks of modern times. After lamenting the dangers and misfortunes of Islam he communicated to me the secret that all was arranged for a Kurdish rising next May, and that he was going to put himself at the head of it. They would be able to put 80,000 men under arms,—this without the help of Russia, which had offered them arms, but whose alliance they refused. They did not wish to quarrel with the Sultan, but to stand to their arms and demand the right of local self-government. Their country was abominably misruled by ignorant and corrupt Stamboulis, and they felt that if they did nothing they would one day be engulfed in the common ruin of the Empire. Every year they were becoming poorer and weaker, but the Kurds were a nation still of three millions, and warlike men. He asked me whether I thought the English Government would give them its moral support. He had seen Dilke when in London two years ago, and had asked him about it, and Dilke had told him that, though the idea was not discouraged, he considered the time an unfavourable one. This must have been about a month before the bombardment of Alexandria, and it tallies curiously with what Eddy Hamilton wrote to me about the projected Syrian rising a little more than a year earlier.[89]

“I told Aarif in return the history of my correspondence with Downing Street on just these points, and warned him not to trust to Mr. Gladstone or to England, which was far too busy in all parts of the world just now to attend to Kurdistan. Russia, too, would be sure to prevent anything like Mohammedan Nationalism on her frontier. The Russian design was to take possession of the Euphrates and the head of the Persian Gulf. To this he said that the Kurds were willing to risk a quarrel with Russia, that, if they waited, their fate would be only more certain afterwards, and that at present Russia favoured them. And he asked me to plead their cause in England. I promised him to do this, but told him very frankly that it would be almost impossible to attract sympathy in England for the Kurds. A Kurdish question would not be understood there, and all that was known with us of the Kurds was taken from the tales of travellers who had been robbed by them. I advised him therefore strongly to put his case forward as part of the Armenian question, which was already understood in England, and had attracted sympathy, and was even provided for in the Treaty of Berlin. As an Armenian rising, it would be understood, and would have a kind of legal standing. He told me that the Armenians were with the Kurds in this matter, but that there was the difficulty as to who should be their chief, for the Armenians would want a Christian, while the Kurds would have none but a Mohammedan. Anne suggested, however, that there might be two chiefs, and we looked out the position on the map and found that in fact the country might be divided into two districts. The north with Van as capital would be Christian. The south with Diarbekr would be Mohammedan. He assured us the Arabs, too, were with them, the Shammar, the Taï, and the Jibouri—and the rising would begin for certain next May.

“Aarif’s father is Seyyid Yusuf Sidki. His brother-in-law was one of the leaders of the last Kurdish revolt with Sheykh Obeidallah. They would have conquered Persia but for the Sultan’s intervention.

“Selim Faris also looked in. He has been to the Palace and finds that Munir Pasha has not dared mention my name to the Sultan or forward my letter. They are all afraid.

“_1st Nov._—Aarif Bey came again to tell me that he had arranged with Ahmed Bey, the Sultan’s _Chef de Cabinet politique_, that we should meet to-night at the theatre and have a talk, and he thinks that then Ahmed Bey, who sees the Sultan every day, will arrange for an audience Monday or Tuesday, and I have told him that I cannot and will not stay past Wednesday, when the French steamer starts. Aarif, in spite of his revolutionary projects in Kurdistan, is on confidential terms with the Sultan’s Cabinet, and sends them reports on political subjects. When we saw him in England in 1882 he seems to have had something of a private mission, and has clearer ideas of English political parties than is usual with foreigners. His estimates of Gladstone, Salisbury, and Dilke were correct, and he described how, after an interview with Salisbury, in which he, Salisbury, had held language entirely favourable to the Sultan’s rights in Egypt, he had gone the next day to hear him speak exactly in the opposite sense in the House of Lords. I asked him about the relations existing between the Sultan and Russia, and he told me that all the advances at present were on the side of Russia, that the Sultan only trusted the Germans, who, he remarked, could not possibly help him; that he still had some trust in Lord Salisbury with regard to Egypt, if he should come into power again, but that he knew perfectly well that there was no material help to be expected from England any more. I told him I was quite of that opinion. Whatever else we might do, we were quite certain never to send any more troops to help the Sultan against a European Power, and that, if I had to advise for his good, it would be to make an alliance with Russia. Russia, of course, never could be a friend, but if they could tide over the next twenty-five years, there might well be a revolution there, a European war, or heaven knew what. But Russia was the greatest danger Turkey had, for it menaced it in Asia, and the conquest of Asia Minor would be an end of all things. Aarif quite agreed with this and said that if England continued in her present line of policy, an alliance with Russia was inevitable. The only thing that prevented it was that the Russian Government was _tellement canaille_, that the Sultan would not trust them, but he would be driven to it.

“Aarif also gave us a capital account of the way Lord Dufferin had tricked the Sultan in the matter of the proclamation of Arabi’s rebellion. The Sultan, he assured me, still had a kindly feeling for Arabi, and it was entirely against the grain that he had issued the proclamation. But Dufferin had bullied him by threatening to leave Constantinople, or acknowledge Abd-el-Mutalleb, the Sherif of Mecca, Caliph. Afterwards, when the Sultan wanted to sign the convention for sending troops, Dufferin went off to the Princes Islands and could not be got at. There had been a great debate among the Ulema as to the legality of the proclamation, and he, Aarif himself, had pronounced strongly against it on the ground of a certain _hadith_ which declared every Mohammedan justified in defending Mohammedan interests against the infidel, whether with the Caliph’s sanction or without it. He also told us about his visit to the Oxford and British Museums, and the Arabic documents he had found there.

“Next we went to tea successively at the German and Russian Embassies. At the latter we made acquaintance with M. Onou, the Chancellier, who knows Syria well and something of the desert. We talked about Arabia, and I think I made some impression on Nélidof by the warmth of my pleadings. His wife has a great hatred for Lord Dufferin. She was a Princess, and her brother was the owner of that stud of 150 horses which was burnt last year.

“At half past six Aarif returned and took us to dine at a restaurant, and we went on to the theatre, but Ahmed Bey Jellal-ed-Din was not there, and had sent us a message by Ahmed Pasha, another aide-de-camp, to say that the Sultan had kept him on service. The play was, I forget what—the ‘Princess Something.’ I hate these things.

“I have forgotten the principal event of the day, the visit of Ahmed Minshawi. He came early in the morning, having been sent by the Syrian banker. It is clear that Ismaïl Jowdat did not intend him to see us, and they have quarrelled about something, as they all do. Minshawi is a true fellah of the Arabi type, but altogether inferior to him, a large, nervous, heavy-handed man, with his eyes rather too close together, and a general heaviness relieved by occasional flashes. He was very difficult at first to reassure, and explained that he had been so hunted for the last two years by the police that he had lost all his courage. It is not given to every one, he said, to be courageous, and he lamented his fallen fortunes. ‘I used to be a man of large wealth. I lived like a prince at home, respected by all, surrounded by friends, and confident in myself. Now I am treated as a _fakir_. The Turks have no bowels of compassion. They have no charity. With us the stranger is respected. Here he is watched by the police,—and he asked nervously whether there was any one listening, as the door creaked. ‘I used to have four thousand acres of good land worth £60 or £70 each (I am not sure of the figures), and half a dozen steamers on the river. Now I receive not £20 a year from my property. I am driven out of my home and live as I can on what remains to me of the ready money I took with me.’ The tears rolled down from his eyes as he spoke, and he sat for some minutes silent on the sofa weeping.

“I asked him to tell me how it all came about, and he said it was from his having interfered to save the lives of the Christians at Tantah. He had gone into Tantah that morning thinking of nothing, and when he saw the people being killed he had lost his temper and laid about him with his stick to stop them, and he had expostulated with the Mudir, and he had taken 150 of the people, Syrians, Jews, or Greeks, to his country house, and had kept them at his own cost during the war. The people who had got up the riot were Ibrahim Adhem and his wakil, Mehariz, who is now Mudir. These two were solely answerable for it. He had heard of Osman Rafaat’s coming to Tantah, but had not seen him. I asked him about Abu Diab. ‘_Wallah!_’ he said, ‘if there was one innocent in the world it was Abu Diab.’ I then tried to get out of him what his political views were. But he was very cautious, after the manner of his people. ‘If,’ he said, ‘you were to take an ox or a camel or an ape, or even a hare, and give it to the Egyptians as their Governor, they would be grateful and loyal to it. Before the war we loved the English, but we do not love them now. They have destroyed us, and they have given us to those who have no mercy.’ After much pressing, I got out of him that he would like Abbas with a regent, Riaz, or, if it were possible, Arabi. He said Riaz because he would keep order, but Arabi the people would like far better. He did not wish Ismaïl. He should have no objection to Halim. But any one would be acceptable so long as Tewfik went away. I urged him to come to England to give evidence, and he said he would, but what was he to do with the family? His family was here, and he had no friend to leave them with. I fear he is a rather helpless ally. Still we must make what use of him we can, and he is to come again on Monday.

“_2nd Nov., Sunday._—By steamer to Roumeli Hissar to have luncheon with Halim Pasha, and take leave. But we unfortunately missed the boat, and did not get there till nearly two o’clock. The Princess is certainly a very charming person, and still a pretty woman. She gave us luncheon in the kiosk in the garden, a very handsome room. Some Turkish dishes, among others one of chicken with walnut sauce. Afterwards I had a long talk with Halim. Explained to him how the war had been brought about, and Mr. Gladstone’s desire to be rid of Egypt, and begged him to further my design of bringing forward now the charges against the Khedive, by sending Ismaïl Jowdat and Mustafa Bey to England. And he promised to send them and to get them to agree with Minshawi not to quarrel. At going away I said to the Prince: ‘I suppose it is understood between us that if Your Highness returns to Egypt, Arabi is to return too.’ He said: ‘You may count upon it. I have never had any other idea, and I only regret that I have not been able sooner to put myself in direct communication with him. All the exiles shall be recalled.’ I like Halim more the more I see him. He is plain spoken and direct in all he says.

“His Beatitude Stephen Peter X, Monseigneur Azarian, Patriarch of the Catholic Armenians, called on us. He is a dignified and intelligent man, to whom we had brought letters from Madame Volodkowich; and he told us in detail the Armenian situation. The desire of the Catholic Armenians was to have such a government as that of the Lebanon. They did not want to be separated from the Porte, as their greatest danger was absorption by Russia. But the administration had become worse than it had ever been, and the people would bear it no longer. With regard to the Kurds, he said they were much less fanatical than the Turks, and the accounts of their misdeeds were very much exaggerated. He was sure that, if they had a government like that of the Lebanon, they would all live together very peaceably. The Turkish Government favoured the Catholics, as they did not conspire with Russia, which the Orthodox did. But even these did not wish Armenia to be absorbed by Russia.

“Of the Sultan he gave the most favourable account I have yet heard. He says that he has known personally four Sultans, and Abdul Hamid is far the best of them, and perhaps the best Sultan there ever was. He is a good man, and works hard to know everything concerning his country, and is most intelligent. He has no vices, has few women, neither drinks nor amuses himself, and is severely economical. He has no debts, paying everything, down to the last detail of his household, every Thursday. He knew this as the Sultan’s accountant is an Armenian Catholic. Only, all his servants are bad, and he trusts no one. The Government of the Porte is worse than it ever was, a mere den of corruption, and it is impossible that a catastrophe is not impending. The Greeks in Roumelia are all members of secret societies, and so are the Syrians, and one of these days it will occur. The finance will break down, for nobody is paid and the people are all coming to beggary. Everything can be bought. The new Greek Patriarch of Jerusalem is a man whose name stands first on the list of those dangerous to the Empire, as he is a head centre of Pan-slavism. Yet he procured his nomination by spending money. All was going to ruin, and would go to ruin. He, the Patriarch, was sorry for it. A worthy old man. Peace be with His Beatitude.

“_3rd Nov._—Our first visitor was Ahmed Minshawi, from whom we got additional details, and I have drawn up a statement of the evidence he is prepared to give, which will be most valuable.[90] As he gets more confidence his face lights up, and he acquires even a certain eloquence. He reminds me every now and then of Arabi, typical fellahin both. He was driven away by the arrival of Doctor Dickenson. [Here follows Doctor Dickenson’s account of the death of Abdul Aziz, which has been related previously in my ‘Secret History,’ see pages 52 to 55.] Dr. Dickenson is a very precise old gentleman, and the sort of witness whose evidence would be accepted by any jury in the world. I therefore entirely believe his account. Midhat and Damad, he told us, died in chains at Taïf, some months ago, having been starved to death. Midhat’s end was hastened by a carbuncle, but he was none the less made away with. The Sheykh el Islam has also recently died there who gave the fetwa authorizing Abdul Aziz’s deposition. This act of terror has given Abdul Hamid the absolute power he now holds.

“We went to the Russian Embassy again to say good-bye, and see some horses given by the Sultan to Nélidof. The horses are of no great account, a chestnut and a gray worth £50 or £60 a piece.

“Coming back we found Mustafa Bey, and we have arranged that he is to encourage Minshawi, and when we telegraph come with him to England and give his evidence. Ismaïl Jowdat also came in. We wrote out a _procès verbal_ for Minshawi to sign. What I intend to do is to invite Mr. Gladstone to examine the evidence privately, or appoint Trevelyan or somebody of equivalent integrity to examine it. If he refuses I shall do it publicly. Ismaïl Jowdat will come at once with us to England.