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.)

The life of Midhat Pasha; a record of his services, political reforms, banishment, and judicial murder · 第 3 / 14 章