THE VEILED PROTECTORATE
Our winter in Egypt of that year, 1892-93, turned out to be full of
incident. I found on arriving there, that the trouble I had foreseen
between the new Khedive Abbas and Sir Evelyn Baring would speedily come
to a head if no attempt were made to carry out Lord Dufferin’s promises
to the Egyptians of restoring to them their National Government under a
constitutional form, and a definite policy adopted for preparing the
country for evacuation. Owing to the pre-occupation of our Liberal party
in England with the affairs of Ireland and other home politics, the
question of Egypt had been allowed to stand over and nothing had been
done. Lord Rosebery at the Foreign Office had been left to act, or not
to act, as he pleased, and he in turn had left the decision of a policy
to Baring, whose idea of Egyptian Government was to retain all power in
his own hands, while acting in the Khedive’s name.
It was the famous policy of “the Veiled Protectorate,” the successful
carrying out of which needed two essential conditions, first, that the
Khedive should be a consenting party to the make-believe, and, secondly,
that its true nature should be concealed from the general Egyptian
public. The Khedive was expected to name his own ministers, but the
choice of them was to be privately dictated to him by the British Agent.
The Government officials were to wear the Ottoman Fez, but the more
important of them were to be Englishmen. These were to give advice, not
orders, but the advice was always to be obeyed. It was an ingenious
plan, adopted from the Government of British India, in its dealing with
the native states, while a third condition was equally indispensable,
that was the presence behind the British Agent of a sufficient armed
force to give emphasis to his advice and enforce his will, the Army of
Occupation.
Although not a year had yet passed since Abbas’ succession to the
Khedivial dignity, he had already rebelled against the position of a
mere puppet, and had managed to gather about him the nucleus of a new
National party, which consisted of what elements there were in Egypt
either of discontent or of such patriotism as was to be found in the
country, half political, half religious, which resented the presence of
foreign and Christian rule. The Khedive had been greatly aided in this
by the publication of Sir Alfred Milner’s book, “England in Egypt,”
which I have described already. It had appeared about the time of the
change of Government in England, and had proved an entire success there
as a support to Baring’s views, but at Cairo it had had an exactly
opposite effect. It had too candidly revealed the nature of the Baring
policy, unveiling to nakedness the “Veiled Protectorate,” and as it had
been largely read in an Arabic translation at Cairo, it had caused more
alarm than satisfaction there. By the end of the year 1892 the young
Khedive was already popular with his native subjects, while even among
Englishmen resident at Cairo it was considered that Baring had
mismanaged the matter, and there was alarm at the growing ill will that
was being manifested between natives and foreigners. There is no doubt
that Baring had been at fault through his lack of personal courtesy to
the young prince, who, having received his education in Europe, was well
aware of what was due to him, and had sufficient wit to know how to
assert himself on occasion. These things are alluded to in my diary.
“_1st Dec._—Landed at Alexandria and lunched at the Consulate, where the
Consular chaplain, Davis, gave me some idea of how things were going
politically. We had some talk about former Egyptian times, he having
been thirty years resident there. What he said bears out what my
Egyptian friends have always affirmed, namely, that Said Pasha’s reign
was the best time the fellahin ever had; he is, however, like all
Englishmen here, for a perpetual occupation in order, as they say, ‘to
keep out the French.’ The ladies told stories of the new Khedive Abbas
to his disadvantage. He dislikes English soldiers and has made them move
farther away from his palace, and he insists upon having his own will in
trifles, as on one occasion lately when he made the gate-keepers of the
railway open for him, and had forced the Directors to apologize and
dismiss the men because, not knowing who he was, they had cursed his
father. This happened near Ramleh. We had tea with Sir William and Lady
Butler, he being in command of the English garrison. We went on to
Sheykh Obeyd next morning.
“_26th Dec._—To-day, a young fellow, Abderrahman Effendi, was here, a
protégé of Abdu’s. Talking of Abbas, he told me he was hand in glove
with Riaz and Ahmed Pasha Shukri, and that they all belonged to the Hesb
el Horiyeh (the Party of Liberty). I told him that if they really wanted
Parliamentary Government they must work for it. The Khedive ought to
make known his desire for it. He should demand it formally in writing,
and I would see that their wishes were represented in the proper
quarter. Writing to Loulou Harcourt about the same time, intending it
for his father, I said: ‘I should be glad to know what is intended at
the Foreign Office. I consider that there are elements here of a
stronger opposition to the English _régime_ than was the case under
Tewfik. For the present the Khedive is young and Cromer plays with him
as with a young bear, humouring him in small matters and excluding him
from all real power, and the young man amuses himself after the manner
of his age, but he is certainly strongly anti-English.’
“I understand that the Khedive is in accord with the Constitutional
party here. If so there will be less difficulty than last year in
carrying out Lord Dufferin’s programme. I really cannot understand how
the Liberal party in England can with any face refuse to do this. It is
the only possible chance of setting the Egyptians on their own legs.
“_31st Dec._—I have been taken up for the last forty-eight hours with
reading Milner’s book about Egypt which is just out. It is by far the
ablest defence I have seen of Cromer’s policy, and may be considered as
his own apologia, for most of it must have been taken down from his
dictation or at any rate in concert with him; even in form and
arrangement of subjects. It is identical with Cromer’s report of 1891.
There is a great deal of truth in it and also a great deal of the
suppression of truth.
“_16th Jan._ 1893.—Went to Cairo, the first time this winter, on
business with Scott (then at the Ministry of Justice). I found everybody
there in a great turmoil, as the Khedive has just dismissed Mustapha
Pasha Fehmi and other Ministers from their posts, and has appointed new
ones, with Fakhri Pasha as President of the Council, without Baring’s
cognizance. Scott said it was a _coup d’état_, and so it seems to be.
“_18th Jan._—Baring has refused to recognize the new Ministry until he
has communicated with the English Government. He has given the Khedive
time to reflect, and the Khedive, finding himself insufficiently backed
up by the French, has already given in and a compromise has been come
to, Fakhri being replaced by Riaz.
“_20th Jan._—Ismaïl Jowdat[5] has been here and has told me the whole
story of the intrigue of the last few days, though it dates in its
beginning from much earlier. It is one of those complicated episodes
which make up Egyptian history.
“Abbas, Jowdat says, arriving from Europe a year ago with European
notions, readily fell in at first with Baring’s plans. He took up the
quarrel with Constantinople Baring led him into, about his firman of
appointment, and for a while was on bad terms with the Sultan. Mukhtar
Pasha, however, and de Reverseaux, the French Consul-General, have
managed latterly to bring him round into opposition, and he has made up
with the Sultan and is strongly anti-English. They have managed this
with the help of the young Sheykh el Bekri, who was brought up with
Abbas and has great influence with him. This young man was at first,
like Abbas, under Baring’s influence, and Baring sent him to England
last summer and introduced him to Gladstone and others, boasting that
the Egyptians were becoming English in their sentiments. The young man
is of importance from his religious position, which is hereditary. On
his way home, however, he passed through Constantinople and there fell
under the contrary influence of the Sultan, who gave him high orders and
decorations, and of Prince Halim Pasha, whose daughter it has been
arranged he shall marry. He returned to Egypt last autumn altogether in
the Sultan’s interest, and has since received from Mukhtar Pasha a
pension of £300 a month out of the Sultan’s privy purse. Abbas,
disapproving of his visit to Constantinople, refused to see him on his
return. Nevertheless, a reconciliation was effected through the
mediation of the Khedive’s mother, urged thereto by a certain religious
Sheykh of Alexandria, entitled Sheykh Tekkiet Gulshani, who desiring to
have his title confirmed on his son, which could only be done through
the Sheykh el Bekri’s firman, interceded on his behalf. The Khedive’s
mother was this old Sheykh’s adopted daughter (god-daughter) and hence
his influence. El Bekri then called on the Khedive and was well
received, and has since influenced him in favour of the Sultan’s policy.
Mukhtar and Reverseaux planned between them with Riaz this sudden _coup
d’état_ which has just taken place, Bekri having got the Khedive to join
it. It was Riaz’s suggestion putting Fekri forward, and it has ended as
planned in his own substitution as Minister. The following are the chief
personages concerned in the plot: Mukhtar Pasha, the Sultan’s
representative, with his Turkish secretary Mohsin Bey, Abd el Salaam
Pasha Moelhi, Ibrahim Moelhi and his son Mohammed, Prince Hussein, the
Sheykh el Bekri, the Sheykh Gulshani, Mohammed Bey Zoghli and his
brother, Rushti Bey, Yussuf Sadyk, son of the old Muffettish, Ahmed Bey
el Kharmili, and Ahmed Bey Sofani, of the Legislative Council, Mazlum
Pasha, master of ceremonies, Tigrane Pasha, Zekki Pasha, and others.
They have made up their ministry thus: Riaz Pasha, Mazlum Pasha, Boutros
Pasha Ghali, Tigrane, and Zekki Pasha.
“Later in the day Fenwick Pasha called upon me. He regretted that Lord
Cromer had not gained a more certain victory in the crisis. ‘Cromer,’ he
said, ‘had offered Mustafa Fehmi to back him if he would remain in
office, but Mustafa declined, probably afraid.’ The immediate causes of
the _coup d’état_ were first the publication at Cairo of Milner’s book,
and second the order issued by Coles Pasha (the English adviser of the
Ministry of the Interior) to the Mudirs in his own name instead of that
of the Egyptian Minister.
“I have written to Labouchere and to Sir William Harcourt.”
This was the Khedive Abbas’ first revolt against Cromer. The ground of
the revolt was not ill-chosen, as the Khedive was without question
within his constitutional and legal right to name his own Ministers, and
it at once dissolved the illusion Cromer had entertained that his and
not the Khedive’s authority was popular in Egypt. It was everywhere
applauded, and it forced Cromer to abandon his make believe and
telegraph to London for English troops, a clear admission of his
political impotence. It was a first rent made in the famous “Veiled
Protectorate,” and though Cromer in his book describes it as a victory,
it was one of physical force only, not moral force.
“On the 26th of January Hardinge of the Legation[6] was here. He told us
that when Riaz was informed of the arrival of reinforcements from
England he smiled a blue smile and remarked that they would be welcome,
as English regiments had always been well-behaved in the country.
‘Riaz,’ said Hardinge, ‘may not love us, but at least he will be an open
enemy.’ It appears that Cromer really threatened the Khedive, giving him
twenty-four hours to make up his mind, and that the English regiments in
garrison had ball cartridges served out. They intended to surround the
palace and keep the Khedive prisoner if he refused, but what more does
not appear.
“_30th Jan._—Sir Edgar Vincent and his wife, with Lady Alice Portal and
Mr. Eldon Gorst, came to tea. I was glad to find that Vincent took quite
my view of the situation. He said: ‘They can’t go on on the old lines,
and must either declare a protectorate or evacuate. The change,’ he
said, ‘in public opinion since I was at Cairo three years ago, is
astonishing.’ He has been seeing much of Riaz. As to Turkey and the
Sultan he confirms all that I have heard of the improvement. ‘The
resuscitation,’ he said, ‘of the Ottoman Empire is the most remarkable
phenomenon of our day.’ And so it is.”
Several others have called, all telling the same story, that Riaz has
the whole public with him, and that the Khedive is popular everywhere.
Only my neighbor, Selim Faraj, being a timid man and a Christian, was
frightened when I talked of evacuation as near. He thought it would be
followed by a persecution of Christians. ‘It is not,’ he said, ‘as it
used to be in Egypt. Ever since the affair of 1882 there has been a
growing hatred between Mohammedans and Christians.’ This is true, but
whose fault is it?
“_5th Feb._—Parliament has met and Her Majesty has made her speech, to
the effect that the sending of troops to Egypt does not indicate a
change of policy, also that the Khedive has given her assurances that he
will act in co-operation with her representatives.
“_14th Feb._—Went in to Cairo to see the Sheykh el Bekri. Mohammed
Moelhi met me at the station and we drove to a Mowlid [a religious
birthday feast] in the Bab esh Shariyeh, where we found the young Sheykh
in a house decorated for the occasion. He arrived as we arrived, and we
went in together. There was a great crowd of people, but the Selamlik
was empty, and we sat down with El Bekri and talked in French, while
religious Sheykhs and others presently came in to pay their respects to
him. The Sheykh el Bekri is a young man about twenty-five, of no very
imposing appearance, small and pale, very plainly dressed in white
turban gombaz and abba, you might take him for one of the Azhar
students, but he has a certain quiet dignity and is most intelligent. He
talks French perfectly. I discussed the situation with him both as to
the exiles and as to current politics. On the political situation he
talked very sensibly, and urged me strongly to call on the Khedive and
talk it over with him. I said: ‘I will call on leaving Egypt to ask him
pardon for the exiles, and then if he chooses to speak to me on other
things I will discuss them with him.’ But I explained that my situation
was rather a delicate one, as I had formerly been exiled and had been
put under an obligation not to interfere; still I was in communication
with Sir William Harcourt, and any message the Khedive might choose to
give me I would deliver. The Sheykh el Bekri told me that when he was in
England last summer he had seen Gladstone, and Gladstone had spoken
strongly to him in the sense of evacuation and against Lord Cromer’s
policy. He could not understand that he should now be supporting it. I
explained the political intrigues at home and Rosebery’s position in the
Cabinet. He seemed well acquainted with men and things in England. I
gathered from him that the quarrel between the Khedive and Lord Cromer
was very much a personal one. At this point music began outside and
chanting, and our sofa was turned round to the window and we continued
our talk, but with interruptions. I arranged, however, with him that he
should speak to the Khedive of my readiness to be of service to him, and
that he was to arrange an audience before I left Egypt. This will oblige
me to put off my journey (the one I had intended to take) to the Fayum.
The thing is interesting, and reminds me not a little of old days. I
never thought to become the Khedive’s confidant after all that has
happened.
“_15th Feb._—Sir George Bowen came and spent the day. A man of
enlightened ideas, and much practical experience in English
protectorates, the Ionian Islands, Malta, etc., where he has served
officially. We talked out the Egyptian question fully, and were pretty
much agreed about it. He says, the Liberal Government at home would
willingly evacuate, but fears public opinion. He has talked much since
he has been in Egypt with Riaz, and Nubar, and Cromer. Nubar regrets
that England did not annex in 1882. Cromer admits that he does not know
what to do. There are three possible courses: (1) To annex, which would
cause an European war. (2) To evacuate, which English opinion would not
stand, and (3) To stay on as we are. This last is what he (Cromer)
intends to do. Bowen confirms all I have said of the universality of
popular feeling against us here, the desire that everyone has to see us
gone (not personal hatred). He finds the Copts quite as much against us
as the Mohammedans. He understands the feeling as political, and
patriotic, not fanatical. He lays much of the blame on Cromer, who is
not, he thinks, the sort of man to acquire the confidence of a young
Oriental Prince. . . . He asked me my solution, and I told him that I
thought the English garrison might be withdrawn to Suez as a compromise,
that would satisfy the cry in England about the route to India. He is in
communication with Lord Kimberley and will write to him, and I trust may
do some good, though the Liberal party seems to have gone in for a
thorough debauch of Jingoism.
“_21st Feb._—Again to see the Sheykh el Bekri, this time in his own
palace, formerly Abbas Pasha’s, where I had once been in his father’s
time in 1881. He is certainly a most clever and charming young man,
knowing everything about the politics in Europe and Constantinople as
well as in Egypt. He sees Riaz constantly, and vouches for Riaz as a
sincere opponent of Cromer, and supporter of Abbas. Riaz holds other
language to the English here. I told Sheykh el Bekri that I thought it
very important the Khedive should state in some official document the
exact nature of the promise he made to Cromer as to his being ‘willing
to _follow the advice_ of Her Majesty’s Government on all important
matters,’ whereas the Khedive has told deputations that have waited on
him that all he promised was ‘to _consult_ the British Resident.’ This
he ought to make clear. Sheykh el Bekri assured me that under present
circumstances Abbas could count on the Sultan’s support. He is advising
the Khedive to act in everything through and with the support and
countenance of the Legislative Council. This is the right road.
“_23rd Feb._—To Cairo to order a black coat, the Khedive being
punctilious on the score of clothes. Fortunately I found one at the
English tailor’s ready made. [It had been ordered for Oliver Montagu who
had just died at Cairo, and had never worn it.] Had a long talk with
Sackville[7] who thinks things very unsatisfactory, the European Powers
would not allow our annexation, the Turks would come from Constantinople
if we went.
“_24th Feb._—Sheykh Mohammed Abdu came for lunch and stayed the
afternoon. I had not seen him since the _coup d’état_, and was anxious
for his opinion. He is strongly in favour of Riaz who, he says, may be
depended on, not so Tigrane or Boutros. Tigrane, Artin, and the
Christians generally do all they can to destroy Moslem education. Riaz
is a tyrant, but he is honest. He gave me his opinions of the various
Englishmen employed in the country; ‘the only good ones,’ he said, ‘are
Scott, Garstein, and Corbett. It has been the introduction of so many
inferior Englishmen in the last three years that has ruined English
influence.’ He laughed much at Wallace and his school of agriculture,
and at Willcox with his reforms of the Arabic language. He is very glad
I am to see the Khedive, and wants me to impress on him the necessity of
keeping well with Riaz, and of taking up young Mohammedans rather than
Armenians and Syrians. He would also work in a Constitutional sense. ‘We
do not mind,’ he said, ‘the English being here for a year, or two years,
or five years, so long as they do not stay altogether. It would be
better for the country as giving time for the growth of the Fellah
party, but if there is danger of annexation we are quite ready to run
the risk of a little tyranny from the Turks, rather than the other
greater risk; if you will evacuate to-morrow we shall all rejoice.’ Now
Abdu is probably the _most_ philo-English of the Egyptians.
“On the 25th February an interview with me, which had been published in
the ‘Pall Mall Gazette,’ having been reprinted in the ‘Bosphore
Egyptien,’ I wrote to Lord Cromer to explain that I was not responsible
for this, or for joining in any of the attacks made on him in the
Egyptian newspapers. ‘In England,’ I said, ‘it is different. There as
long as we occupy Egypt without annexing it, the Egyptian question must
remain a subject of public discussion, and I am sure you will not think
that with the strong views I hold on the injustice of destroying
Egyptian Nationality, my expressing myself on the subject was unfair or
uncalled for.’ In answer he said, while thanking me for my letter, ‘I
cannot, of course, take the smallest exception to your expressing your
views on Egyptian questions in any form you may think fit, neither did I
for a moment imagine that you wished to make a personal attack on
myself.’ I quote this as showing what my relations with Cromer were at
this and in subsequent times when we quarrelled politically.
“_28th Feb._—Went this morning by appointment to see the Khedive at
Abdin Palace. I found him in the same room as a year ago, and he came to
meet me at the door. He received me very cordially, and talked
throughout with a great show of frankness and confidence. His manner is
certainly excellent, and he has a wonderful command of words for so
young a man, with a very frank, agreeable smile. He began about his farm
at Koubbah, which he said interested him far more than anything at
Abdin, and we discussed the subject of horse-breeding and the growth of
_bersim hejazi_. Then he went on to politics. He thanked me for having
spoken in his favour in the P.M.G. interview. ‘The whole English Press,’
he said, ‘is against me.’ I asked him for a history of what had
happened. He said: ‘As long ago as the end of last summer, when Mustafa
Pasha (Fehmy) returned from Europe, Palmer (the Financial Adviser) came
to me and complained of my having spoken against him. I asked him how he
knew I had done so. He said the people of the Palace were talking. Then
Hardinge came with the same complaint, but could not tell me who it was
that had spoken. When Lord Cromer arrived he came to me and told me that
I was becoming very unpopular (laughter) in the country because I was
not cordial with Mustafa Pasha. The fact is Mustafa is an invalid, and
has to go in the summer to Europe. He is not fit to be Prime Minister.
When he fell ill, Lord Cromer objected to my taking Tigrane, and offered
me a choice of several quite incapable persons—Balig Pasha, who is a
Cypriote, Affet Pasha, who is one of the worst of men, and Ahmed Shukri,
who is quite incapable.’
He then gave me an account of what had happened between him and Cromer
as to the promise of following English advice. I asked him to tell me
the exact words, and he said: ‘We were speaking in French’ (to me he was
speaking in very good English, and I fancy he keeps his French for his
English advisers), ‘and what I said was, “Que j’avais tout désir d’agir
de concert avec le Gouvernement Anglais et que je ne manquerais pas de
le consulter sur toute chose de grande importance.”’ He denied, however,
categorically that he gave any promise of ‘following English advice.’ I
showed him Cromer’s despatch published in the Blue Book, which I had in
my pocket with the Queen’s Speech, and he said the latter was correct
enough, not the other. I then told him that I considered it very
important since that was so, that he should at once contradict it
officially, as afterwards it would be quoted against him, and he
promised to make Tigrane write an official despatch in that sense. I
then asked him whether he could rely absolutely on Riaz as against
Cromer, and he said ‘absolutely.’ ‘If that is so,’ I said, ‘and you have
the Sultan with you, you have nothing whatsoever to fear.’ He said,
‘Indeed I am not in the smallest degree afraid of any one. I consider
that I have a great responsibility here as ruler of the country and a
great duty, and I mean to do it. I do not care what happens.’ I noticed
that he was reticent about the Sultan, but I did not press that matter.
About Tigrane he said, ‘I know that I can depend better on Riaz than on
Tigrane. Tigrane, being a Christian, has no influence in the country,
but Riaz has. We must make use of Christian ministers as administrators,
not as heads of the Government.’ I then asked him about the amnesty for
Arabi and the other exiles. I told him I had had letters from Arabi full
of loyal expressions towards him, and that I was sure he could count on
him to be faithful to them, that Mahmud Sami might be very useful to
him, and that I hoped he would allow them to return to Egypt. He
received this very favourably, and I went on to say that I had always
regretted that his father, Tewfik, had quarrelled with Arabi, and so
brought the English into the country—he did not dissent from this—that
as a matter of fact, Arabi’s policy was precisely the same as his,
Abbas’ own, namely, to get rid of foreign rule. He said he could not
give me a precise answer about the exiles until he had consulted others,
but that he would take their case into favourable consideration, and
when a proper opportunity occurred he hoped to be able to accede to my
request. I said I would not press it on him at the present moment of his
strained relations with Cromer. I then advised him strongly to take his
Legislative Council into his counsels, and act through it and through
the General Assembly, and I told him of Labouchere’s view. In all this
he cordially agreed. A deputation then appeared in the outer room, and I
saw that it was time to go. I took my leave, promising him to state his
case in any quarters where I might have influence, and that he could
always count on me for the best of my advice. He walked to the door with
me, making me promise to come and see him, and his horses at Koubbah. As
I was leaving him I said, ‘One word more. If Lord Cromer should leave
Egypt, and there is any question of appointing an Indian officer in
succession to him, I advise Your Highness strongly to object.’ He said,
‘Oh, certainly. I know them.’ And so with great cordiality we parted.
“I am delighted with the young man. He is able, courageous, and self-
possessed. He reminds me of his grandfather, Ismaïl, as to wit, _mais en
mieux_. He ought to win his game against Cromer.
“Mohammed Moelhi came in the afternoon. I told him all that has passed
at the palace and he said: ‘Now you must go to Constantinople, the
Sultan will wish to see you.’ So I shall do if all goes well.
“_1st March._—I received a curious visit from one Abdullah El Moughera,
an Arab of the Moughera tribe of Aflaj, but born at Shagra, in Nejd. He
told me he had left Nejd as servant to Abdullah Ibn Thenneyan Ibn Saoud,
who went to Constantinople twelve years ago, wanting to be established
in Nejd by the Turkish Government. He had been employed by the Sultan to
try and raise troops among the Anazeh and other tribes and had succeeded
in getting Sotamm Ibn Shaalan and other chiefs to go to Constantinople.
But Sheykhs Ahmed Essaad and Abul Huda had been jealous of him and he
had left the Sultan’s service and had gone back to Syria. At Jerusalem
he had offered his services to the British Consul to raise an
insurrection in Syria, and the Consul had sent him on to Lord Cromer. He
had seen Cromer and Boyle, but says he could not make them understand
him, as Boyle and he talked Turkish, but most probably they would not
have anything to do with him, so he came on to me.
“He came again 4th March, and I gave him £10 and advised him to go back
to Syria.
“_6th March._—Abderrahman Ismaïl came and reminded me of what I had
advised about the Khedive declaring himself before Parliament met. ‘You
see,’ he said, ‘we have taken your advice.’ So it is just possible that
my words may have had some influence in bringing the crisis on, only I
wish they had consulted me as to the way of doing so. I should not have
advised this sudden change of Ministers. But perhaps it is best as it
is. It was not Ahmed Shukri, but Mohammed Shukri, who, he told me, was
working with Riaz. He talked now in the highest spirits of all that was
happening. I told him I thought it possible negotiations for evacuation
might be begun before the end of the year.
“_7th March._—To-day I went to see Riaz Pasha. To my astonishment he had
written me a most amiable note, asking to see me and signing himself
_Votre bien dévoué_. So I called at three at his private house in the
Helmiyeh quarter, near the citadel, I suppose the quarter where his old
Jew father lived. He received me with the greatest cordiality, a little,
wizened, gray old man, with a nervous, twitching face (once Abbas I’s
dancing boy!) and poured me out his griefs. He began with a long apology
for his conduct in past times and of how he would have saved the country
if it had not been for Arabi’s pushing on too quickly. I did not care to
argue that point, as I knew it would take time, and he is sorry enough
now for having got the English into the country. He is very angry with
Cromer for having humbugged him when he was last in office about
evacuation, and on my showing him what Labouchere had written me about
Rosebery’s intention _never_ to evacuate, he threw up his hands in real
passion.
“We discussed the necessity of action through the General Assembly, and
he quite agreed. But he strikes me as being rather old and infirm, and I
doubt if he will hurry on fast enough. Unless they act here, while our
Parliament is sitting, they will lose their pains. I talked to him also
about getting the Sultan to agree to the neutralization of Egypt in
connection with our withdrawal, and he thought it could be managed if
the word neutralization was not used to the Sultan. He thought also they
might come to an agreement to make over the town of Suez permanently to
England, but he begged me not to quote him, also he promised to draw up
a programme of reforms. About the Khedive’s denial that he had promised
to _follow_ English advice he did not feel sure, but said that something
he thought had already been written about it. He is very Oriental and
very vague, but there is something in him that inspires confidence. When
I said, ‘You must not repeat all I have told you to Lord Cromer,’ he
exclaimed, ‘Ah, _could_ you think it?’ Lastly I talked to him about
Arabi’s return, and he spoke much as the Khedive had spoken, of there
being no unwillingness on their part only that the time was inopportune.
He complimented me on my constancy to my friend, and we parted on the
best possible terms. Coming with me to the head of the stairs he kept
repeating: ‘Ah, que je suis content de vous avoir vu, que je suis
content, que je suis content.’
“_11th March._—I have written my article, ‘Lord Cromer and the Khedive,’
for the ‘Nineteenth Century,’ also letters to Churchill, Labouchere, and
Loulou Harcourt, founded on my talk with the Khedive; also 12th March to
Mr. Gladstone.
“_22nd March._—Mohammed Moelhi tells me of a new trouble. A certain Ali
Bey, Colonel of a regiment quartered at Koubbah, had made himself
conspicuous by his visits to the Khedive, and his congratulations on the
issue of the _coup d’état_. This has given offence to Kitchener, the new
Sirdar, and they have ordered the regiment back to Suakim, whence it
only came six months ago. The Minister of War, Yussuf Shudi, one of the
old gang, lets Kitchener do what he likes. [This entry is of more
importance than it seems, for this Ali Bey was Ali Bey Kamel, brother to
Mustafa Kamel, afterwards leader of the National Party, who began his
political career by taking up this quarrel of his brother with
Kitchener.]
“_31st March._—Everard Fielding (he had been staying with us at Sheykh
Obeyd) brought the Sultan of Johore to see us, a good old Indian
gentleman of very simple manners and much _bonhomie_. He lunched with
us, notwithstanding Ramadan, talking pleasantly in _pidgin_ English,
which did not altogether mar his dignity. With him a young Malay, the
general of his army, and his English secretary, Captain Creighton. He
complained that though he had been a fortnight at Cairo, he had as yet
seen none but English officials, and that Lord Cromer had not encouraged
him in his desire to go into Egyptian society. I offered to put him in
the way of this, which much delighted him, and as good luck would have
it, Mohammed Moelhi called, while we were sitting on the roof, and I
introduced him and sent Mohammed back with him to Cairo, to take him,
to-day being Friday, to the Mohammed Ali Mosque for prayers, and I am to
take him on Sunday to the Sheykh el Bekri and get Mohammed Abdu and
other Sheykhs to call on him, and we will put him in the right way to an
introduction to Sultan Abdul Hamid when he goes on to Constantinople.
“_2nd April._—To Cairo, where I took the Sultan of Johore to Sheykh el
Bekri, acting for him as interpreter. This was a difficult matter, as
the poor old Sultan’s English is hardly intelligible, and his ideas are
most embroiled, and his manner, too, for an Oriental, is strangely bad,
and I fear he shocked el Bekri by a certain _sans-façon_ in speaking of
holy things, though I was able to smooth down his more unfortunate
remarks, as interpreters do. The truth is they were at cross purposes.
What el Bekri wanted to find out was whether the Sultan had any
panislamic ideas, whether he wanted to see Abdul Hamid at Constantinople
for a political purpose, and whether he would encourage panislamic
missionaries at Johore. The old man, on the other hand, only wanted a
little personal sympathy as a Mohammedan from Mohammedans. He was too
humble-minded to expect much notice from Abdul Hamid, and had nothing of
any importance to say to him. Thus each misunderstood the other. ‘Do the
Mohammedan Princes in India,’ the Sheykh asked, ‘communicate with each
other as such, and do they communicate with the Sultan at
Constantinople?’ To which the other replied that the Malay princes knew
each other, but not the others. They had never had the smallest
communication with Constantinople, and the Ottomans looked on them as
Kaffirs. A Turkish man-of-war had once come and stayed some time at
Singapore on her way to Japan, and it was not till just before she
sailed that they discovered that Johore was Mohammedan. Then everybody
had been delighted. That was the only communication that had ever taken
place with the Turks. They saw many Arabs of the Hedjaz at Singapore who
came to trade, but they were ignorant men, though some were rich. He
would like to go to Constantinople, but he would not put the Sultan to
the trouble of receiving him. He was only a small sovereign, and had
nothing of importance to say. As to missionaries, he would be delighted
if the Sheykh would send them a professor to teach them their religion.
They were all Shafaïs at Johore. They said their prayers in Arabic, but
did not know the meaning of the words; the Koran was not translated into
Malay except some parts of it. He was having a translation made, they
were all very ignorant. The young Sheykh el Bekri hardly knew, I think,
what to make of it all. The good Sultan of Johore was more successful
with other Egyptians whom I took him to. At Abdul Salaam’s the Pasha was
on all fours to His Highness, and me for bringing him. He described to
them his patriarchal way of governing his country with a walking
stick—‘like the first Caliphs’ Abdul Salaam remarked—and how he liked,
when he was at home with his wife and his mother, to sit on the floor
and eat with his fingers. He wanted to find somebody doing that, but at
Cairo there were European chairs and sofas everywhere. We have promised
to show him that, too, and he is to go on to Mohammed Abdu.
“Later I went alone with Mohammed to call on Mukhtar Pasha, and had a
long talk with him on the political situation, the upshot of which was
that he promised no time should be lost in pushing things on. He would
write at once to the Sultan, suggesting that he should take action in
the direction of neutralizing Egypt, and he would urge Riaz to convoke
the General Assembly here after Ramadan. It shows how little these
people know of their own affairs, and how entirely Dufferin’s Charter
has remained a dead letter, that when I spoke to Mukhtar of the
Assembly, he stoutly denied that there existed such an institution. ‘It
would be,’ he said, ‘a most precious instrument in our hands, but I have
never heard of it.’ I exhorted him to consult his papers. He also
assured me that as long as the Khedive was _dans la bonne voie_, he
could count on the Sultan’s support. Also about Riaz that he was sure he
would work straight now with the Khedive. Riaz was much changed in the
last two years. He would jog him on if he was slow, as he quite saw the
necessity for action. Every year the Occupation lasted rooted it more
firmly. Lastly, he promised to see the Sultan of Johore, who I hope will
not commit any _inconvenance_ when they meet. It is announced in the
papers that Cromer’s new yearly Report is published, and that the ‘Daily
News’ in London supports it, and declares it must be several years
before Egypt can be left to manage its own Government.
“_5th April._—Randolph writes me an interesting letter about Egypt. He
says that he is still in favour of evacuation, but at the present time
cannot express his opinion publicly with advantage. He wishes, me,
however, to tell the Khedive to keep on good terms with Cromer as his
best chance.
“_12th April._—Lunched with Tigrane (the Armenian Under Secretary for
Foreign Affairs). He is, I think, sound in his Nationalism, though an
Armenian. We talked about my article in the ‘Nineteenth Century,’ with
nearly all of which he agreed, objecting only that it might do harm to
the Khedive that I should have stated him to have denied the promise to
follow English advice. He said he had been himself the intermediary in
arranging the affair between the Khedive and Lord Cromer, that he had
drawn up in writing with Lord Cromer the form of words the Khedive was
to use, namely, ‘_Je suiverai volontiers les conseils_,’ etc.; that the
Khedive had read the Memorandum and had learnt it by heart, and had
promised to use the exact words. He therefore presumed that the Khedive
had done so, and that the promise was in fact made. I said there could
be no mistake that the Khedive now denied it, and we both agreed that it
was a point of the utmost importance. He said that the Legislative
Council would be convened soon after Bairam, when they would introduce a
programme of educational and other reforms. He would see Mohammed Abdu
as to a reform of the Azhar if I would send him to him. As to the
General Assembly the country was not yet ready for it. It would have to
be written about first in the press. He had himself always been in
favour of Constitutional measures. I think I made him understand that
without constant action there was no chance of success. ‘Yes,’ he said,
‘we drift down the stream like a log to the sea.’ On the whole I am
pleased with Tigrane.
“_13th April._—Lady H. writes that she has seen Gorst who seemed
immensely struck with my article, ‘Lord Cromer and the Khedive,’ never
apparently before having realized what a good case can be made out for
the other side.
“_15th April._—Called again on Mukhtar Pasha, who talked with
considerable unreserve. Speaking of the necessity there would be of
England’s holding Egypt in force, if she were at war with any Great
Power, I had remarked we should require 20,000 men—‘50,000,’ he
exclaimed, ‘only to deal with the internal disturbance, and when I come
with an army from out there from Damascus you will see how many more you
will want.’”
This is the account given by my diary of Abbas’ first pitched battle
with Cromer, which the latter always claimed as a notable victory,
though in reality it was hardly that in any moral sense, Cromer having
got his way only by the violent physical measure of calling for British
reinforcements and by the unreadiness of the French Government to make
it a _casus belli_. Relying on this he succeeded in intimidating the
young Khedive to the extent of obtaining from him a compromise in regard
to his right of appointing Ministers which he was able to represent in
his reports as dictated by himself, but it left him with the Khedive for
a persistent enemy, who though many times forced to submit was never
reconciled, and who in the end defeated his old enemy, and drove him out
of Egypt. I have recorded it here at some length, for it marks the
beginning of an obstinate determination on the part of our Foreign
Office under the Liberal, no less than under the Conservative
administrations in Downing Street, to cling to Egypt right or wrong,
wisely or foolishly, to its own hurt twenty years later.
On the 18th April we left Sheykh Obeyd for Athens and Constantinople. At
Athens I found my friend Egerton newly appointed Minister, and we
lunched at the Legation with him and Arthur Ellis, who was there in
attendance on the Princess of Wales on a yachting cruise, and they both
talked with a certain sympathy of my Egyptian views, Egerton being still
for evacuation as when we had talked of it together in Paris; but we
made no stay at Athens more than the few hours allowed by our steamer,
and on 23rd April we landed at Galata, and took up our quarters at
Myssiris Hotel, where all is unchanged since I was first there thirty-
three years before, and where we stayed for a fortnight, an interesting
visit, though I failed after all in the chief object of it, that of
getting speech of the Sultan.
Our first visitor on arrival was my old ally Ibrahim Moelhi, Mohammed’s
father, now a Pasha by favour of the Sultan, and in high favour at the
Imperial court, who put me in the way of seeing various dignitaries,
including Munir Pasha, the Sultan’s chief intermediary between Yildiz
Palace and strangers of distinction, who promised me an early audience
of His Majesty, but I soon found there were obstacles in the way of an
actual private audience of the kind usual at that time among the Court
officials. Mukhtar Pasha, from whom I had brought a letter of
introduction to Munir, had described me in it as “a _rich_ Englishman
who had for many years defended the cause of the Arabs against the
English Government.” The word “rich” was an unfortunate one as
suggesting ideas of _bakshish_ to the official mind, and I soon
discovered that the doors of Yildiz would need more than one golden key
to open for me, a form of blackmail I was not prepared to submit to, for
I have made it a rule in my dealings with Orientals neither to give, nor
to receive, presents. Neither was I disposed to waste more time than a
few days waiting for this and that arrangement to mature. Nevertheless I
had opportunities given me of seeing a good deal of the inside machinery
of that singular abode, the Sultan’s residence and its surroundings. I
might of course have obtained a formal audience in the orthodox way by
getting the British Ambassador to present me, but that would not have
served my purpose as the conversation of strangers under such
circumstances of introduction was never more with Abdul Hamid than a
polite interchange of compliments.
Our Ambassador at the time was Sir Clare Ford, on whom we all called,
and who received me very cordially as a former member of the Diplomatic
service, and who had for a while worked there in Bulwer’s time as an
_attaché_, but we did not talk politics except with Nélidoff, the
Russian Ambassador, who was announced while we were there, and who had
at one time been my intimate friend when he and I were _attachés_
together at Athens. Nélidoff always remembered our days there with
pleasure when we met, and so it was on this occasion. We talked of old
times at Athens when he and I were still almost boys, he three or four
years older than me, and of the paper chases we had ridden together in
the olive woods with Dufferin, he, too, still a young man, travelling
with his mother in the East, and who had spent the winter with us there.
I found him much intrigued about the Sultan of Johore, who to his
immense surprise found himself an object of vast curiosity at
Constantinople, and who, thanks to Sheykh el Bekri’s introduction, had
been received with all ceremonious honour by Abdul Hamid, though the
Court had refused from the first to acknowledge him as having any claim
to calling himself a Sultan. Nevertheless he was credited by everyone
with a very high position as a Mohammedan Prince in the Malay States.
Nélidoff told the story of what the Sultan’s chamberlain had said of him
when Nélidoff had asked who and what he was. “Je ne connais pas de
Sultan de Johore, mais il y a un prince de ce nom qui a demandé audience
de sa Majesté le Sultan.” Nélidoff was curious to know how many subjects
Johore contained, and when I told him “only half a million” was greatly
disappointed. He had been reckoning on him, I think, as a possible ally
for Russia on the borders of India.
Going on the same afternoon (25th April) to a hotel where he was staying
“I found the Johore suite in the seventh heaven of delight over their
reception last night by the Sultan. Two state carriages had been sent
for them with an escort of cavalry—this had been denied them in London
at the Queen’s Jubilee. They had been entertained at a state banquet,
and Sultan Abdul Hamid had embraced his brother monarch and had bestowed
on him the First Class of the Order of Osmanieh in diamonds, and on the
suite correspondingly high decorations. I did not see the old gentleman
himself, he being with the dentist. Mohammed Moelhi alone was not
decorated, though as a matter of fact it was entirely owing to him that
Johore had been received at all. The Sultan had refused at first, saying
he was only an Indian Rajah, but Moelhi managed to persuade the palace
people through Jemal ed Din, and the brilliant reception accorded was
the result. Jemal ed Din was at the banquet, and according to Ibrahim’s
account, is now in high favour at Yildiz, having succeeded with Abdul
Hamid by his plainspoken audacity. The Sultan has offered him all kinds
of grades and decorations, but Jemal ed Din has wisely refused, and the
other day, on being turned back by the master of ceremonies at one of
the Bairam Court functions, Jemal ed Din pushed his way through
notwithstanding, and so attracted the Sultan’s notice, who sent for him
and made him stand close to him behind his chair, nearer even than the
Grand Eunuch. So Jemal ed Din is the man of whom to solicit favours, and
I am to be taken to call on him to-morrow, the episode of the umbrella
in the back room at James Street being consigned to oblivion. How
foolish Drummond Wolff was to change his mind at Vienna and not take the
Seyyid with him to Constantinople in 1885, as I had arranged he should
do. He would have got his Convention ratified and succeeded where he
failed.[8]
“_26th April._—With Judith to luncheon at the Embassy. The German
Ambassador was there, with a Swedish Count and Countess and Carnegie, a
cousin of the Ambassador, of a branch of the Southesk family settled in
Prussia, also Nicholson, our Secretary of Embassy, next to whom I sat. I
found both Nicholson and Ford professing opinions favourable to the
evacuation of Egypt; indeed, Ford introduced me to the German Ambassador
as ‘the Englishman most strongly-opposed to our Occupation of Egypt.’
Nicholson married a sister of Lady Dufferin, and was in Egypt at the
time of Dufferin’s special mission of 1882-3. He gave me a less rosy-
coloured picture of Turkish Finance than Vincent, who is negotiating a
new loan, and so makes the best of things here.
“At three on with Judith to Nishantash, in the Musafir Khaneh, an
official lodging house for distinguished visitors attached to Yildiz,
where Jemal ed Din has rooms. The old Afghan received us with open arms
and embraced me on both cheeks in a room filled with reverend Turks, and
made Judith sit in the armchair of state, and gave us tea and coffee and
entertained us for an hour and a half. Anne had written him a note of
excuse in Arabic, which was read out two or three times with great
admiration at its style and correctness. Then we had a long talk on
politics, partly in Arabic, partly in French, which Jemal ed Din talks
pretty fluently. Ibrahim Moelhi was there, but the others did not
understand us (very few Turks know Arabic). Jemal ed Din asked my
opinion of the various personages in Egypt, the Khedive, Riaz, Mukhtar,
Tigrane and I also explained to him the situation in England. He was
there some months last year, and had got rather incorrect ideas—for one
thing, that the evacuation of Egypt was only prevented by the Khedive’s
_coup d’état_. He did not understand that the English Liberal party had
long before surrendered to Rosebery. About the state of things here we
did not talk except that the Sultan would certainly support Abbas as
long as he opposed us in Egypt, and that no claim would be put forward
by Abdul Hamid of interfering with the Administration there. Altogether
a satisfactory visit. There seems a good chance now of my getting my
audience at Yildiz, but I told Jemal ed Din that I cannot wait longer
than Monday.
“_27th April._—To the bazaars with Judith and the Walter Blunts (General
Walter Blunt Pasha, an A.D.C. of the Sultan, who had called two or three
days ago with his wife claiming relationship, though I hardly know on
what ground). He talked of his family as connected with Plaw Hatch, in
Sussex, a fine-looking old man in a very smart uniform. He has been in
the Turkish service since 1878. On our return we found Jemal ed Din and
Ibrahim Moelhi calling on Anne, who told us wonderful tales of the
system of Palace management. It is arranged that I am to be taken by the
superintendent of the Musáfir Khaneh to see Munir Pasha to-morrow during
the Selamlik. I am not to ask for an audience, but only to deliver my
letter from Mukhtar Pasha. They seem to think, however, that it will
require a week or more to prepare the ground for an audience, since
nothing here can be done in a hurry. I am determined all the same to
leave on Monday, for if I am to do any good I must be back in England
before Whitsuntide. The one practical question I want to ask the Sultan
is whether, if the English Government were willing to open negotiations
on the lines of the Wolff Convention, he also would be willing, but
Jemal ed Din thinks it would be impossible at a first audience to go so
far as that.
“_28th April._—To the Selamlik with Judith and the Walter Blunts (Anne
being still laid up), a really splendid spectacle. It was held in front
of the new mosque at Yildiz, and everything had been done to make it
impressive, as there were ninety officers of the French fleet present,
brought especially by the Sultan’s yachts from the Dardanelles. Sarah
Bernhardt, too, was there, to whom the display must have had a special
spectacular meaning. What interested me most was the large number of
Mohammedan Sheykhs and dignitaries from distant provinces of the empire,
who followed the prayer outside the mosque and took part in the
procession. This has been the triumph of Abdul Hamid’s reign. In one of
the tribunes were a couple of old Druse Sheykhs in splendid attire, with
whom I exchanged a few words, and one of them recognized me, having been
at Salkhat when Anne and I passed through it on our way to Nejd in 1878.
They were then, and as late as 1881, at war with the Sultan, now they
are his guests, clothed in robes of honour.
“When it was over I went with General Blunt to call on Emin Pasha, the
Chamberlain, and got from him permission to visit the Imperial Arab stud
at the Sweet Waters; the General would have gone with me also to Munir
Pasha, but I explained that perhaps Munir would sooner see me alone; so
presently the superintendent came for me and took me to Munir. There was
with him an officious little man whom I afterwards found to be
Guarracino, the ‘Times’ correspondent; but Munir sent him away. He then
read my letter from Mukhtar and became cordial. We talked a little about
the affairs of Egypt, and a little about my travels, and he said he
would inform the Sultan of my arrival.
“In the Diplomatic Box which we occupied at the Selamlik, I found our
old friend Sabunji,[9] now in fine feather, having a permanent post as
translator to the Sultan. He lives at Prinkipo and comes in twice a week
to Yildiz. He told me he had had my article ‘Lord Cromer and the
Khedive’ given him to translate, and that the Sultan certainly had read
it. He advised me to ask for an audience, but I told him I had no time.
General Blunt whispered me that he was ‘a palace spy,’ which of course
he is, and therein lies his value; he may be of great use to us here.
The day was lovely, the view splendid, and I enjoyed the pageant as I
seldom do things of the sort.
“In the evening we drove to the Sweet Waters and were shown the Sultan’s
mares. There were, I believe, about 150 of them, all ‘mares from the
Arabs,’ but the greater part of them of very small account. Among the
herd, however, one was able to pick out about a dozen really good ones,
and two or three of the first class. But there was no mare there at all
equal to Ali Pasha Sherif’s best, or the best of our own. The best I
found had come from Ibn Rashid who, two years ago, sent thirty. But the
Egyptian who manages the establishment tells me that they will insist
upon tall horses, and I fancy the Bedouins who send the Sultan mares get
the big ones on purpose for him, and keep the little ones, which are the
best. There was a great hulking mare which Sotamm Ibn Shaalan had
brought with him, one I feel sure was never foaled among the Roala. Of
horses they showed us seven, the best being without comparison a Seglawi
of Ali Pasha Sherif’s, an exact match to our Shahwan. This was a really
beautiful and perfect horse, but of diminutive size compared with the
others, and so less esteemed here, though the Egyptian knew his worth.
Next to him was an immensely showy chestnut from Ferhan Jerba, a
beautifully topped horse of great quality, but a little overgrown, and,
so the manager told me, less good at the stud than the other. Beyond
these two there was not one I would have cared to own, two or three of
them being quite unfit to breed from. The management of the stud is, I
fancy, very defective, as there were certainly four mares out of five
barren. There is, however, enough material to make a good stud out of. I
should pick out twenty of the best and sell the others. There were a
good many black mares among them, sent as rarities, but I doubt if black
is ever a good Arab colour. One of these came from Ibn Rashid and was
the best; Sarah Bernhardt was also in the paddock looking on.
“Munir is rather a fine-looking man, with a vigorous, intelligent face,
and modern manner—not at all one of the old-fashioned, sleepy Pashas—and
in all he says he goes straight to the point. He impressed me
favourably.
“_29th April._—Admiral Woods Pasha called on me and talked principally
about the Armenian question. He says it has been grossly exaggerated in
the London press; that he has seen the text of Newberry, the American
Consul’s Report, which is entirely favourable to the Sultan’s
Government, that the ‘Times’ refused to publish it, that Sir Clare Ford
had sent it home, but that the Foreign Office ignores it. He has written
to the ‘Daily Telegraph’ a rather weak letter headed, ‘Justice to Turkey
and the Turks.’ But I told him justice was quite out of date now in
England, and that he would get a better chance of a hearing if he did
not speak of it. To be listened to one must threaten, not plead for
mercy.
“To luncheon with the Sultan of Johore and his suite, including Mohammed
Moelhi and Ahmed Pasha Ali, A.D.C. to Sultan Abdul Hamid, who has been
attached to Johore for the period of his stay. This Ahmed is the same
who was sent to us by the Sultan nine years ago to show us over the
palaces and treasury, a good-natured, courtly personage, said to be the
most be-decorated of any in Turkey. Our conversation at table was a
regular Tower of Babel, for though we were only ten people, we were
talking five different languages, English, French, Turkish, Arabic, and
Malay.
“In the afternoon we went with the Walter Blunts to see the Sultan’s
stables at Yildiz—first, however, to call on the director of it, Izzet
Pasha, the most European Oriental I have ever met. We found him in
trouble, his son having attempted to commit suicide the day before
through a love affair. He talked of this quite as a European might. He
was sitting in his house near Yildiz, in a rough kind of smoking suit,
his hair _en brosse_, and no fez—rather a picturesque looking man, who
might have been a French or Italian artist. One certainly would never
have guessed him an Oriental. He talked a good deal of heresy about
horse-breeding, declared that nine out of ten Arabs had unsound hocks
(an absurdity), and they were all unsound one way or the other. He says
there is hardly a horse or mare sent by the Bedouins to the Sultan which
would pass a veterinary examination. This may perhaps be true, as I
daresay they pass on their unsound ones when they are making presents,
to say nothing of the horses they send getting changed on their road to
Constantinople.
“At the stables, which are inside Yildiz Park wall, we found a splendid
collection of stallions arranged in stalls according to their colours,
gray, black, or bay—very few chestnuts. Among these the most remarkable
were, I think, half-a-dozen brought by Nasr el Ashgar, Sheykh of the
Montefik, and several very fine ones from Mohammed Ibn Rashid, and
others presented singly by Walys of Bagdad. There were some enormously
powerful horses among the bays, and one very fine black horse from Ibn
Rashid. But there was unfortunately no intelligent person to explain,
nor anybody who knew Arabic, except a black slave. In the first stable
there were about sixty horses, nearly all of high quality, but we could
not have more than two or three led out, so it was impossible really to
judge them. Beyond these were a couple of hundred more, inferior ones,
in another stable, and yet a third and fourth stable with European
animals. A very old white Arab horse was shown us as the Sultan’s
favourite for riding, but they say he seldom gets on horseback.
Altogether the grandest Arab collection I have seen, and far superior in
quality to the mares we saw yesterday.
“Dined at Ahmed Ali’s in Stamboul with Johore and his suite; a dull
dinner in the modern Turkish style, with music during it—which I hate.
Our host showed us with pride some astonishing daubs he had perpetrated
at Paris twenty years ago, and some of which he had even exhibited. He
had also painted his dining-room walls not badly with representations of
orange and lemon trees in tubs.
“On my return I found that Munir had called, but I shall not put off my
departure unless I have an audience fixed for a special day and hour.
Mohammed is to find this out definitely and bring me word to-morrow.
“_1st May._—A dull morning, with a Black Sea fog and cold. Hearing
nothing from the Palace, we have taken our places by to-night’s Orient
express. Called on Ford to say good-bye, also on Woods Pasha. Yesterday
I saw Jemal ed Din at Nishantash. He was urgent I should stay on to see
the Sultan, and said he would go at once to the Chief Chamberlain to get
a definite answer. But no answer has come. I called also on Abdullah
Pasha Nejdi (Ibn Thennayan Ibn Saoud) at his house in Yildiz. He
lamented being kept a prisoner here and longed to be back in Nejd. But
the Sultan is kind to him. I went with Serrur the Soudani.
“To-day Sabunji called. He came here two years ago with some Englishmen
to get a railway concession, which came to nothing, but he stayed on
till the Sultan, hearing of him through Munif Pasha, sent for him and
made him translator. He now has to read and digest all the newspapers of
England, France, and Italy, and to write _précis_ of their contents in
Turkish for the Sultan. He sees the Sultan from time to time and
sometimes talks to him about European politics or history or
archaeology, of which Abdul Hamid is fond. He gets £40 a month and a
house at Prinkipo, and so is in clover. He says the Sultan in afraid to
employ good men in high positions for fear they should become too
popular. Thus Saïd Pasha was dismissed a year and a half ago because he
had become popular with the army by paying the soldiers regularly.
Lately, Vincent went to the Sultan with proofs of the roguery of the
Minister of Marine. The Sultan gave him in return another paper wherein
the same and many more robberies were recorded. He had long known all
about it.
“At two Ibrahim Moelhy came to beseech me to stay on a few days till
next Thursday, only another twenty-four hours, but I was obdurate. ‘I am
not a _fakir_,’ I said, ‘to sit at the Palace door waiting. I am not the
Sultan’s servant, nor will I dance attendance on any king in the world.
If the Sultan wants to see me he must send and say so and I will come,
but to-night I go home.’ So he went back to Nishantash.
“At five came the Sultan of Johore with Mohammed Moelhi, who has just
received the second class of the Mejidieh from Abdul Hamid. So they are
all happy. At six Ibrahim and Mohammed returned to see us to the train.
All now is satisfactorily settled. We are to go as arranged to England,
but Jemal ed Din is so to manage matters that the Sultan will send for
me some time during the summer, and he will obtain for Anne the Chefket
Order in diamonds as a sign of extreme favour. In the meantime I am to
write to Jemal ed Din letters which he can show to the Sultan on
political affairs in England. Thus I shall be his unaccredited
Ambassador. The two matters they want principally to be informed about
are Armenia and Egypt. And so, much pleased with all that has happened
during our week’s stay at Constantinople, we are off and away.”
Thus ended the eventful spring of 1893 and my part in what happened
during it at Cairo. On our way back from Constantinople I note:
“_2nd May._—In the train all day crossing the great plain of Eastern
Roumelia, the Balkans to the north and the Rhodope range to the south, a
splendid plain full of storks and large birds of prey, with a few
rollers—frogs croaking gaily, bright sunshine. This part of Bulgaria
seems very prosperous—the peasants still in their national costume, the
villages still with their minarets, though most of the Mohammedan
population is gone.
“Mr. Thompson, the U.S. Minister at Constantinople, is in the train.
Ford had given me a note of introduction to him. He has told me much
about Armenia, having just sent in a report on the subject to his
Government. He says that it is proved the Armenians intended a revolt on
the 5th January, but were betrayed by one of their own people. The
placards inciting the people to rise were printed in England—no Turks
were concerned in it. Also he tells me the whole resident Armenian
census is under three-quarters of a million as against five millions of
Mohammedans. The only province where the Christians outnumber the
Moslems is Kaisariyeh, the smallest of the villayets—there they may be
three to one. There was some reason for their discontent in the way of
injustice, especially through the tyranny of a certain ex-brigand,
Kurshid Pasha, chief of the police, but the measures taken by the
Government were not very severe. All the prisoners have now been
released except 200, and these he had been promised should not be
severely punished though reserved for trial. He has been acting in
concert with Ford in the matter. He says emphatically that there is not
the material in Armenia to make a nation, though the Christian Armenians
desire it. Their brethren under Russia would revolt too if they dared.
The Catholic Armenians are with the rest in desiring independence. The
whole movement has been got up in England and with English help.
“_3rd May._—Thompson tells me there may be trouble with Russia at
Constantinople soon, as the young King of Servia wants to go there and
do homage, while the Russian Emperor is opposed to it. The Russians
supported the Regency at Belgrade and are angry with the King. He talked
also of American politics and the desire in Canada for annexation to the
U.S., the U.S. being unwilling on account of the large half-Indian,
half-French population, one million, and 160,000 naturalized Chinese. He
says, however, it must come about, through reasons of interest for the
Canadians.
“Passed to-day through Hungary—many well bred horses. The gray breed of
cattle extends from Constantinople to Pesth. It seems the same as the
Roman breed, but with variation. In Turkey the shape is nearer to the
Highland Scotch breed.
“_4th May._—Passing through Germany we got English papers with an
account of the debate in Parliament on Dilke’s Egyptian motion. The
French papers express disappointment. To me it seems most reassuring.
Gladstone clearly and emphatically repudiates _indefinite_
occupation—talks of convening a European Conference as soon as the
condition of things in Egypt returns to the normal. This _must_ put a
stop to Cromer’s annexation policy.”