POLAND AND ARMENIA
I left Newbuildings on the 5th, Anne coming up to London to see the last
of me (for I was going abroad alone), and as my first stage to Gros
Bois.
“_8th Sept._—Gros Bois. We are much occupied here with a new catalogue
Wagram is having made of the family papers. Many of them are most
interesting. Wagram’s ancestor, the father of Marshal Berthier, seems to
have performed on a certain occasion some small service at Versailles—he
was in a very subordinate position—helping to put out a fire in the
stables and also designing a star and baton for the Marshals of France,
and for these was ennobled by Louis XV. The son was therefore not quite
a _parvenu_ when Bonaparte attached him to his fortunes. He eventually
became ‘Duc de Neuchâtel et Valangin, par la grace de Dieu et l’acte
impérial de Napoléon I, Empereur des Français’ (such is the inscription
over one of the doors of Gros Bois) and was at one time possessor of
Chambord. He died while Napoleon was at Elba, and so avoided the final
_débâcle_. But the Marshal’s son signed an act of renunciation of the
Duchy of Neuchâtel, and restored Chambord to its royal owners, since
when the descendants have remained Princes of Wagram at Gros Bois, a far
more enjoyable if less splendid possession. M. Jusserand was here last
night, and we looked through these papers together, with Duphot the
young man who is making the catalogue.
“Jusserand is a very small dark man, with large head of the
brachicephalic type—left at the present moment in charge of the Foreign
Office, his superiors being away _aux eaux_—a clever talker, and, I
should say, a very able official as well as literary man. He was
Chauvinist enough to show emotion when reading the original of the
capitulation of Ulm signed by Mack, and later the document signed by Ney
and others, settling the line of military demarcation in France with the
Allies. There are among the documents some interesting letters from
Napoleon and one from Marie Louise signed ‘Louise.’
“Another interesting man here yesterday was Ludovic Halévy, who gave us
reminiscences of the Second Empire when he was Clerk in the Chamber of
Deputies, and acted in some sort as temporary Secretary to Morny. His
reading of the Empire is that which all who were much behind the scenes
have long known to be the true one, and which History will adopt—namely,
that Napoleon III was not by blood really a Bonaparte, and as little by
character, a phlegmatic, good-natured man, fond of ease and fond of
women, with a certain superstitious belief in his star, and ambitious
less by natural taste than by position. Morny, his half brother, was at
the beginning his guiding spirit, but was ousted from favour by the
Empress several years before his death in 1865. The Empress Eugenie was
without doubt the cause of Napoleon III’s latest misfortunes. A
beautiful woman and of good family in Spain, she was all the same an
adventuress, and had had more than one lover besides the Duke of Sesto,
whom she loved before she came to Paris. The Emperor only married her
because she was clever enough to refuse him on other terms. She led him
an unquiet life, making him constant domestic scenes, from which he fled
to Marguerite Bellanger, at whose apartment he was free from worries.
(Marguerite Bellanger was, if I remember rightly, the daughter of
Bellanger, who kept Voisin’s restaurant, and, when I was at Paris, a
professional lady of pleasure.)
“Halévy recounted an incident of which he was witness when Morny, coming
back from the Conseil des Ministres, threw down his portfolio in a rage,
and swore he would never go again while the Empress was allowed to talk
nonsense there. ‘L’Empereur fera la guerre,’ he exclaimed, ‘un de ces
jours pour lui éviter une scene de famille,’ and this was precisely the
thing that happened. At the time of the quarrel with Prussia in 1870,
she had come suddenly to the Council Chamber and dismissed the Ministers
in her husband’s absence, saying: ‘Messieurs, il y a congé aujourd’hui.
Nous sommes en fête. La guerre est déclarée.’ Halévy is a capital
talker—I should imagine of Hebrew origin, judging by his profile and
other signs—a neighbour of the Prince’s here at Gros Bois, and intimate,
too, with the Alphonse Rothschilds. His son, a most interesting young
man of the serious student kind one reads of in French novels but so
seldom meets, was here on Friday—an abler man, I should say, even than
his father. Poor Mme. Alphonse was also here—it being Berthe’s wedding-
day—a sad woman, mourning her lost beauty and trying to be gay. There
was, of course, much talk of the attempts made against Alphonse by the
anarchists. He goes about guarded everywhere by detectives. All
complained of the lack of government in France, and all blamed the
Parliamentary _régime_.
“_12th Sept._—Antonin. I passed through Paris on Sunday afternoon (the
8th) on my way to the Potockis here in Poland, and spent a couple of
hours at the Embassy, or rather in the Embassy garden, to which Lord
Dufferin invited me. I had an hour alone in it, sitting at the farther
end, near the grille—in some sort a sacred spot for me. Then Dufferin
came to fetch me, and took me off to Lady Dufferin, who was holding
court for the Lord Mayor of London on the lawn, all sitting on gilded
arm-chairs on a red carpet—the Lord Mayor, Sir Francis Reinalls, a
ridiculous, pompous little man, who has come over to Paris to make a
splash, bringing his gilt coach and four horses with him. Dufferin tells
me that at the Elysée Reinalls took upon himself to compliment the
President on his _royal_ bearing, and to invite him to stay with him at
the Mansion House. He seems to have made a fool of himself all round. He
told me himself that he had been to the Théâtre Français, and had been
so bored that he had gone away to a Café Chantant, and I see the French
papers have got hold of the story, while the English ones contain a
protest that he has no commission at all to represent the City of London
in Paris.
“Dufferin was very kind and pleasant, as he always is to me, and showed
me his books. Among them was a volume of Gregory’s Memoirs, and he fired
up when I noticed it, repudiating with great indignation the story told
there of his aunt, Mrs. Norton, having sold the information of Peel’s
change on the Corn Law question to the ‘Times.’ He assured me it was
entirely false, as he had traced the truth to Peel himself, who desired
to clinch the matter. He considered it a cruel libel on his virtuous
aunt. But Dufferin is touching in his family fidelity.
“At 6.30 I took train for Vienna, arriving there the night of 9th
September. Stayed at Sacher’s Hotel, a very excellent inn, and on the
morning of the 10th, after calling on Barrington and Clarke at the
Embassy, and getting my passport from them, I again took train, and so
through the following night and the morning of yesterday, arriving at
length somewhat tired and very dirty at Czerny Ostrov, my final station.
At the frontier, Voloschitzka, I had some difficulty about my passport,
of which the Russian authorities seemed suspicious, but with the help of
Count Bielski, a young Pole whom I had met in the train, got through. At
Czerny Ostrov a carriage and four was waiting, and I was driven rapidly
to Antonin, the last half of the road in Countess Joseph Potocka’s four-
in-hand of four dark bay Arab mares, very beautiful ones and beautifully
matched, going a great pace. The roads were good, there having been no
rain for long, and we did the distance of twenty-two miles in about two
hours.
“To-day I have been shown the stud. The Arab portion of it is, I am
sorry to say, in a lamentable condition compared with what it was eleven
years ago when I saw it last. The reason is the want of proper
stallions. For one reason or another Potocki has been unable to procure
a really first class one, and the horse, ‘Euclid,’ which he bought in
India of Lord William Beresford for, I believe, 500 guineas, has proved
an absolute failure at the stud. His stock are coarse, without beauty or
action, and are worse than the worst we have ever bred at Crabbet. They
have not even the merit, if it is one, of exceptional size. Of the six
stallions he showed me there was but one preserving the Arab type, a
dark chestnut with four white legs, ‘Iflah,’ a four-year-old with nice
action, bred by a horse he had from the Babolna stud called ‘Zarif,’ out
of a fine old mare, ‘Khanjar.’ The rest were not worth looking at.
‘Euclid’ himself, who has been re-christened ‘Obeyan,’ is a horse not
unlike ‘Kars,’ with a fine fore-hand and good points, too, in the
quarter, but with a plain head (Kars had a fine one) of the convex type,
and lacking distinction all through. It is only another proof of the
mistake of breeding from a winner of races if you want to get handsome
Arab stock. The fastest horses are, I believe, never, among Arabians,
the best sires. The mares, which we looked over in the afternoon, are
far better and deserve a better sire. There are a dozen really good
ones—the rest inferior—but the dozen are enough to refound the stud,
though several of the best are old. I regret immensely having sold
‘Shahwan’ to America, as he would have been well employed here, and,
except ‘Ahmar,’ whom I cannot well spare, I have nothing old enough left
to give. The mares I admired most were ‘Druha’ and her daughter
‘Nerissa,’ ‘Zalotna,’ ‘Luba,’ ‘Khiva,’ ‘Poppeia,’ and ‘Khalifa,’ the dam
of ‘Iflah.’ But most of them had unworthy foals to foot by ‘Euclid.’ On
the whole it was a disappointing spectacle, and I spoke frankly to
Potocki, or at least as frankly as it is possible to speak in such
cases. I found him well aware of ‘Euclid’s’ failure. Then Countess
Potocka drove me round the oak wood and through the grounds, which have
been newly laid out and very well.
“_13th Sept._—I have had much interesting talk with Potocki about Polish
history, and the great part played in it by his ancestors, who were many
of them military leaders. His cousins, the Sangusckos, were independent
princes in Lithuania 400 years ago; and these lands at Antonin and
Schepetowka lay on the high road—it is still called the ‘black road’—of
the Tartar invasions as late as 150 years ago. To come to later times,
he talked of the famous Princess Czartoriska, his great-grandmother, who
was the beloved of Lauzun, and he has given me Maugras’ book to read,
which has just come out. It is founded on Lauzun’s memoirs, which
Potocki assures me are authentic, and the original of which, privately
printed, he has had in his hands. I asked him why Maugras, instead of
giving a Bowdlerised _rechauffé_ of it, had not quoted the original, and
he said it entered into quite impossible details, unfit for publication.
I would give a great deal to read the original as it stands, for nothing
strikes me more strongly than the identity of the highly cultivated
society of our day in London with that of Versailles then. Not, I think,
that we are so corrupt in money matters, or perhaps quite so open in our
love affairs, but still the human nature of it is identical, and the
peculiarity of the co-existence of much high ideality in principle with
passionate love-making in practice.
“There is much cholera going on in the villages round here. Potocki
showed me a village to-day where 100 persons have died, a local
outbreak, almost confined to the province of Volhynia.
“_14th Sept._—Spent the day seeing Prince Sanguscko’s stud at
Christowka, a really magnificent collection of mares, no English or
other than Arab blood having been admitted. The flea-bitten greys were
some of them quite wonderful. There is, however, a great lack of
promising young stallions, the stallions in stud use being away at
Slavuta. Christowka is 20 versts—16 miles—from Antonin across the black
earth of the steppe, now all under cultivation—the few villages much
swept by cholera. Christowka itself has lost 160 persons.
“We were received by the manager and his Viennese wife, a young
bourgeoise who insisted on entertaining us. The Antonin Director, who
was with me, is an intelligent man, a Pole from near Riga, and had been
for several years in the service of the Bulgarian Government. On the way
home he gave me a long and clear account of Bulgarian politics.
According to him (his name is Cherkowski) Prince Alexander of
Battenburg, with his many talents, was too young for the position he was
given, and made many mistakes. The Russians—though as a Pole he had no
desire to praise them—were really governing the country well. Their
administration was excellent, and they had carried out in Bulgaria the
reforms they only talk of in Russia, the finance being especially good.
It has gone down rapidly since their departure. Prince Alexander was
sustained by Austrian and English help. Prince Ferdinand he likes
better. He, Ferdinand, is a quiet man, much addicted to science,
especially botany. He would never have thought of accepting a throne but
for his mother. Ferdinand is incapable, Cherkowski says, of having been
concerned in Stambuloff’s assassination, though Stambuloff treated him
with great arrogance. Stambuloff’s death was in all probability a
private vengeance. He was a man of the most corrupt life, taking
advantage of his official position to get women into his power, any who
came or whose husbands came to him with petitions. He had violated many
women, notoriously a certain singer who was engaged to be married, he
and the chief of the police between them. The woman committed suicide on
account of it. He was hated for these crimes, and they were probably the
reason of his end. He, Cherkowski, was at the head there of the
veterinary department. The Bulgarian Government had required of him to
become naturalized, but he had refused, so left their service to enter
that of Potocki. The Bulgarians were a clever people with much outward
polish, but quite corrupt. They disliked all foreigners, but perhaps
Russians less than the rest. He does not believe that Russia will
succeed in recovering her lost position in the country.”
Slavuta and its stud have acquired a tragic notoriety since this entry
was written, having been the scene of one of those hideous outrages
which distinguished the Bolshevik revolution of 1917. Prince Sanguscko,
the owner of the stud, was in his country house at Slavuta, when a
number of disbanded soldiers recently returned from the Russian army
broke into his house and took him out of it and brutally ill-treated
him, killing him at last with their bayonets, and then pillaging the
château and destroying the whole of his Arabian stud. This occurred in
the autumn of 1917.
“_16th Sept._—I was to have left to-day for Kiev, but heavy rain has
fallen and the roads are impassable.
“_18th Sept._—Potocki and I drove last night to Czerny Ostrov and dined
at the house there of a certain Countess, once a woman of some fashion
at Paris in the days of Napoleon III, still full of gossip, ancient and
modern, for she goes yearly to Nice for the winter. At Czerny Ostrov she
has a nice villa with gardens and grounds, and a select circle of such
fashionable friends as the town affords, with an ancient admirer much
dyed and painted.
“Then Joseph and I travelled on through the night and arrived in the
morning at Kiev. The country for thirty miles or so south of Kiev is a
great oak forest with spaces of cleared land—no very large trees, but
growing well, they say, for the first 100 years, till their roots come
to the gravel, when their growth is stopped. Oaks and birches are
evidently the natural growth of the country, with alders in the swampy
places and a few other trees, though there is a certain admixture of
Scotch firs, new comers I should say. The Dnieper is the boundary beyond
which the great fir forests of the north begin. The cleared land is a
wide desolation of stubbles and beetroot, stretching for miles without
hedge or landmark.
“Potocki’s business in Kiev is connected with the sugar trade, in which
he, in common with all the landed proprietors, is interested. The market
now is overstocked, and he tells me he is working his factories at a
loss. A few years ago they were giving a prodigious income, but the
production has become 25 per cent. more than the home consumption, and
the general world’s sugar market at Odessa has fallen below cost price.
He has something like 30,000 acres of land in hand, and his stake in
beetroot sugar is a large one. While he went to his sugar conference, I
made the round of Kiev with his agent Kosacki, who showed me everything.
It is a very beautiful and interesting place with the finest situation,
perhaps, of any town in Europe. The view northwards over the Dnieper and
beyond over the great forest towards Moscow is splendid, and this
evening, with a wonderful effect of light from the setting sun on the
gilt cupolas, and a rainbow in the east, was unimaginably grand. Kiev is
a very ancient and holy city, with fine churches, undergoing
restoration, alas, in view of the Emperor’s coming visit. The Petchersk
is especially interesting, an immense Convent in the Citadel, thronged
just now with pilgrims from distant places in Russia, and beneath it a
catacomb to which one descends by a long stair towards the river—a fine
old-world place, hardly yet ruined by the villainous modern taste.
“At the inn I made acquaintance with Count Ladislas Branicki, who has
arranged that I am to go to stay with his Aunt, Countess Branicka, at
Biela-Tzerkov to-morrow, also with Count Pothofski, who has a stud of
Arab horses, and other friends of Joseph’s. Our inn the Grand Hotel.
“_19th Sept._—By early train to Biela-Tzerkov, changing at Fastov. There
I was met by Prince John Sapieha, who had come with his niece, Mlle. de
Branicka, to see another niece away by the train, both the girls very
pretty in their different ways. We then drove with four horses, handsome
bays, to Alexandrie, Countess Branicka’s country house, a very fine
place with beautiful woods and pleasure grounds where presently, after I
had been entertained with tea and peaches, we went walking to see a pond
netted. There is a large family party gathered here for Countess
Branicka’s birthday. Her married daughter, Princess Radowitz, with her
children, her nephew, Prince John Sapieha, and his wife, her unmarried
daughter, the pretty one, Sophie, a Countess Zeilern and her daughter,
an old Count Diodati, a Swiss in attendance on Princess Radowitz, and a
few others whose names I have not quite learned. It is rather perplexing
to find oneself so complete a stranger among so many.
“_20th Sept._—With Sapieha to Uzin, a stud belonging to Count Xavier
Branicki, a nephew of the Countess, lying about sixteen miles away. We
drove with four common horses, and on the road Sapieha explained to me
the Branicki family history. Biela-Tzerkov was the capital of the
Ukraine, and in former times the headquarters of Mazeppa. According to
tradition the wild horse brought him here from Warsaw. The steppe was
then all grass, but hardly anything of this remains now, all being under
cultivation. In the latter part of the eighteenth century an immense
territory of about a million and a half acres was given to the Branicki
of the day—I fancy the same as the Branicki of the Lauzun Memoirs—in
lieu of a long-standing claim he had against the Polish Government for
the raising and maintenance of troops. He was called the Hetman. The
territory was worth very little in those days, but is now a
principality, bringing in about 7_s._ an acre, the current rent. On the
death of the late Count, however, it was divided into four, the
Countess’s share as widow and for her children amounted to 450,000
acres. She is therefore immensely rich. The stud also was divided.
“The history of the stud, of which I have looked over the books, seems
to begin authentically in 1813, though Sapieha claims for it forty years
or more of antiquity. It can hardly be called a pure Arab stud, as the
stallions then imported stand entered as Turk, Turcoman, Anatolian,
Persian, Arab, and even in 1828 English, while the mares are equally
mixed. It is clear that they have run too much after size; and at Uzin
the type is nearly lost. Occasionally, however, they produce a first-
class horse, and I saw two such, ‘Hamat’ and ‘Haman,’ a bay and a
chestnut, of great beauty and ideal action, though 15.2 or more in
height. The latter especially is a nearly perfect specimen, and will be
retained to breed from. The mares are far inferior in looks to the
Sanguscko mares, having coarse heads, long backs, and long legs. They
carry their tails, however, generally well. One cannot avoid the
conviction about them that they are of mixed origin. I only saw one
mare, ‘Tamisa,’ one would have supposed to be an Arab. They are breeding
now largely from an English thoroughbred, which gives more saleable
stock. They have, however, a very beautiful imported Arab stallion,
‘Heyan,’ of which they are proud—a dark, full chestnut, compact, strong,
and of the highest quality. I should judge him to be a horse from Nejd,
as he is not quite of the Anazeh type. But they know no more about him
than that he was brought to Warsaw by a dealer. I strongly advised his
use for their stud.
“Countess Branicka is a most amiable woman. Her mother, she tells me,
was English, a sister of Colonel Wilson Patten’s wife, afterwards Lord
Winmarleigh. She is clever and kind, most kind to me, doing everything
to make me comfortable, and that I may feel at home. Her daughter Sophie
interests me, a strange, original face, with a pretty, delicate figure,
and a great look of distinction [afterwards Countess Strozzi]. The other
daughter is Princess Radziwill. Sapieha (the Countess’s brother) was
brought up in England, served in a Dragoon regiment, and talks French
with a slight English accent, English with sporting slang of thirty
years ago. His father was concerned in the Polish rising of 1830, and
had his whole estate in Russia confiscated, worth, Countess Branicka
tells me, thirty millions of roubles. His wife, a nice plain woman, had
a fortune, and they live in Galicia. He is most amiable to me, showing
me all things with great zeal. He is or has been manager of the estate
and stud. Altogether a distinguished family, living a large but
unpretentious life. The house, Alexandrie, is less than a palace and
more than a common country house, and is supplemented with several
smaller houses in the grounds, where the guests have their apartments. I
should be happy, but that the weather again broke up this evening, and
it has become intensely cold.
“_21st Sept._—Drove another twenty-five versts with Sapieha to see the
Countess’s own stud—the mares better than those of yesterday. But they
are dreadfully in want of good stallions.
“_22nd Sept. (Sunday)._—A bad cold, so did no more stud seeing—in bed
instead. But in the afternoon to the oak wood—they call it the park—a
delightful place, where we gathered orange-coloured mushrooms. Mlle.
Sophie drove a pair of chestnut mares to-day perfect in shape and type.
All the world drives here. We went out, three four-in-hands and three
pairs—one four-in-hand of ponies being driven by a child of Princess
Radziwill of five years old. There are two very fine teams, chestnuts
and bays, and a third of greys, besides the ponies. All is done on a
large and bountiful scale, with numbers of old servants, who carry the
children about and kiss their mistress’s hand or sleeve as in the East.
The park is a sanctuary for wild beasts and birds, and no gun is fired
in it. But they have an English pack of hounds, and go outside with it
twice a week fox hunting. Foxes are plentiful, but get soon to earth. In
the winter there are wolves, and Sapieha told me of a run they had had
of forty-two versts after an old one, which they killed. The hounds were
afraid of it, but brought it to bay, and a peasant killed it with a
cudgel.
“There has been a race this year at Warsaw, ridden by young Russian
officers, of 100 versts or 120 kilometres, say seventy miles. It was run
in the extreme of the hot weather, and, out of forty-one starters,
thirty-six horses died. The race began at eight minutes past two in the
afternoon, and the first horse, an English thoroughbred, arrived at a
few minutes before eight. He survived. The second and third, also
English thoroughbreds, died soon after coming in, and the fourth, an
Arab from Sanguscko’s stud, arrived fresh an hour after the first and
took no harm. The young officers seem to have ridden like lunatics, and
I fancy the horses were only half trained. But I am to have precise
details from Potocki. Most of the horses died actually on the road.
“I took an affectionate leave of Countess Branicka, for she is a really
good kind woman, and we have made great friends. She has a house also at
Warsaw, another at Kiev, and another, I think, at Vienna. The rest of
the party have also been most friendly to me, and I am glad to have made
their acquaintance, where one sees them at their best, in their own
country.
“We had some talk about their political misfortunes. They all say the
cause of Poland is lost, and that there is nothing more to hope. The
persecution is more religious now than political. ‘I should not be
surprised to wake up any morning,’ said little Mlle. Sophie, ‘and learn
that we had to become Greeks or leave the country.’ All the peasantry
and many of the bourgeoisie have conformed, and the young generation of
converted Poles are among the most fanatical Russians. The elder brother
of Countess Branicka’s husband was concerned in the rebellion of 1863,
the last flicker of Polish nationality, and was exiled to Siberia, the
property passing, I fancy, to the younger brother.
* * * *
“_26th Sept._—Constantinople, or, rather, Therapia. I arrived at
daylight this morning in the Bosphorus, coming by Russian steamer from
Odessa. A lovely morning, with a slight fog or haze, enough to give
everything a mysterious look, but brightening into full sunshine later,
with fresh north wind rippling the blue water. As we steamed down the
Bosphorus the Russian ship’s mate, who talked some English he had
learned in Japan, described what might be done with such a position in
the hands of a European Power, the continuous streets, the railways, the
electric light, etc. Thank Heaven, it is still in its old-fashioned way.
“Arrived at Galata I was rowed straight to the bridge, and on board one
of the Bosphorus boats, and was so taken back to Therapia, a slow three
hours’ trip, zigzagging from side to side, and in full enjoyment of the
day and place. Breakfasted at Pétala’s, unchanged from its condition of
thirty-five years ago, when I first saw it on my way home from Athens in
this very month of September, 1860. Then, going to the Embassy, I found
that I was expected to take up my quarters there, and here I am. It is
strange to be here, with Philip for Ambassador and Violet Fane for
Ambassadress. Philip is altogether charming, unaffected by his official
importance, natural and kind.
“_27th Sept._—There are staying in the house Pom McDonnell, who is Lord
Salisbury’s private secretary, come out, I fancy, to gather the
Ambassador’s innermost thoughts for his master’s benefit—a charming
fellow—and Henry Yorke and Lady Lilian. I spent the morning answering
letters from home, and went riding in the afternoon with Philip and Pom
over the heath-covered hills behind Therapia.
“_28th Sept._—In the Embassy _caïque_ to Buyukdereh to call on Nelidoff
(Russian Ambassador) who, as an old friend, received me cordially, but
we did not talk politics. He gave me a long and interesting account of a
visit he had paid with Ozeroff and Haymerle in 1860 to Cairo, before any
of the European innovations began. With Philip and Pom I have had long
talks about Egypt, and a little about affairs here.
“_29th Sept. (Sunday)._—Spent the day on board the _Imogene_ (the
ambassadorial despatch boat) with Philip, Pom, and Yorke—a perfect
summer’s day. We steamed down the Bosphorus to the Sea of Marmora,
landed on Bulwer’s island, circumnavigated Prinkipo, and then crossed to
San Stefano, and home about sunset, the walls of Stamboul, the Golden
Horn, and the Asiatic shore from Scutari upwards being lit up with the
evening glow, a glorious apparition.
“We had much political talk, first about Egypt, which Philip considers
to be a danger to us, but which he says can never be evacuated—_never_
in the political sense of counting votes at an English election—though
we may be driven out of it. He says that the exclusion of France after
the war of Tel-el-Kebir, from her position in the Joint Control, was
entirely unexpected by him. He was away from the Foreign Office at the
time, and nothing surprised him more than to hear it had been decided
on. It was contrary to all our declarations and all our policy up to
that point. He considers that if the French had declared from the outset
their willingness to help in all arrangements and share expenses
incurred, it would have been impossible to refuse them a renewal of
their position. Lord Salisbury had done what he could to fulfill the
promise of evacuation, but the Sultan’s refusal to ratify the Drummond
Wolff Convention had ‘fortunately’ prevented its accomplishment. The
French policy had throughout been childish. He was inclined to agree
with me that it was a pity the attempt of Constitutional Government in
Egypt had not been encouraged, as the lack of something of the sort here
was what was ruining Turkey.
“Bulwer’s island is a barren and not very attractive little rock, of a
few acres in extent, with some rubbishy buildings, now ruined, which
Bulwer had spent much money on. He had built it for Princess Ypsilanti,
a Greek lady whom he loved, and one of the rooms is still decorated with
a mirror let into the ceiling, in which she could survey her charms. The
Sultan had made him a present of it, and he had eventually sold it at a
fancy price, £10,000, to the Khedive Ismaïl. It is occupied by a
caretaker who keeps a few lean cows, its only inhabitants. The inner
court of the house, overgrown with a yellow rose tree, run wild, and a
clematis, would be pretty if the ruined buildings were less mean.
“At San Stefano we inspected the new Russian church, a memorial, not yet
finished, of the extreme advance of the Russian army in 1877.
“_30th Sept._—To-day Philip told me the history of the Armenian trouble,
and expressed his opinion distinctly that the Sultan not only knew of
the massacres, but had himself given the order for them and approved of
them. I think this extremely probable—indeed it is almost inconceivable
that, under so strong a despotism as is the present _régime_, any
provincial governor or commandant should have dared act thus on his own
responsibility. The Sultan’s orders probably were to stamp out the
rebellion. The mistake Philip seems to me to have made, is that he took
the French and Russian Ambassadors into his counsels. They were sure to
play him false. He is now in a very difficult and false position, for
they do not back him up fairly at home, and he has used such threats
that he cannot well let the whole thing drop, which would have been the
wisest course. As far as I understand his thoughts, he intends, in case
of the Sultan’s continued refusal to accept the English ultimatum, to
take some violent action with the fleet, not here nor yet at Smyrna, but
elsewhere. He asked me what would be the effect of blockading Jeddah and
proclaiming that the Sultan had ceased to be sovereign of the Hejaz. I
told him that the Grand Sherif would doubtless succeed to the Sultan’s
power at Mecca if that power were destroyed, but that he must not count
on any portion of the population joining English intervention. Much as
they disliked the Turks, they would dislike the English more.
“Communications between the embassy and the palace are all but
interrupted at the present moment, nor is Philip in touch with any
section of the Turkish Moslem community. His information depends almost
entirely upon what he learns from Christians—no Moslem daring to call on
him. Now and again he receives a letter in strict confidence, but very
seldom, from members of the old Liberal party. He counts on the death or
deposition of the Sultan, which he thinks might take place at any
moment, and he would favour any attempt to revive a more liberal
_régime_. But, until there is a question as between the Sultan and his
Mohammedan subjects, he says, he is powerless to take action. It is a
misfortune of the position that England has only treaty rights of
intervention in favour of the Christian Armenians. I talked all these
matters over with Pom as we rode across the wooded hills in the
afternoon to Kilia.
“On our return we found Yorke and Lady Lilian and Clara Singleton just
returned from Stamboul, where they had witnessed a disturbance, which
may prove to be an important one, between a body of Armenians and the
authorities. According to the accounts given us by Philip of the affair,
it appears that some days ago he received notice from the Armenian
Revolutionary Committee that they intended making a demonstration in
favour of the prompt settlement of the Armenian case. They were to
assemble in Stamboul and present a petition at the Ministry. This seems
now to have been forcibly prevented—a number of arrests were made—the
Armenians fired shots—a Turkish colonel in full uniform was seen dead in
the street—the Turks were allowed by the police to arm themselves with
cudgels—some Armenians were beaten to death—and six others were
bayonetted at the Zaptieh. But accounts differ greatly. The cavass who
escorted the Yorkes declares that his party was menaced, and that he
drew his revolver to protect them. But Yorke assures me that nothing of
the sort took place as far as his party was concerned. All they saw was
the Turks arming themselves with the cudgels—great crowds, and men being
carried away in carriages with their arms bound. Still it has produced
much excitement, and there is talk of revolution, massacres, and who
knows what more.
“_1st Oct._—The news to-day about the Armenian riot is that the
deputation arranged by the Armenian Revolutionary Committee consisted of
2,000 men, who were to meet at Kapu and to march to the Ministry (the
Porte), while a deputation of women were to go to Yildiz. On their
assembling, however, the police, forewarned of their intention, stopped
and arrested the leaders. The Armenians then fired revolvers, and the
Bimbashi of the Police was killed. Arrests were then made, the police,
it is said, conniving at the Mohammedans of the quarter arming
themselves with cudgels and beating the Armenian prisoners. Sixty
Armenians are reported killed and fifteen of the police. The last news
is that 1,000 Armenians, with some women and children, are being
besieged in a church in the Armenian quarter. The revolvers and knives
found on the Armenians arrested were all of one pattern, a fact which
points to premeditation of defence, if not of attack. All this reminds
me much of what took place at Alexandria in 1882 when the fleet was
ordered there. I expect to see the programme repeated here. There will
be a cry of ‘Europeans in danger’; the fleet will be ordered up to the
Sea of Marmora; some British sailors will be mobbed on shore; a British
Consul will be assaulted; and Stamboul will be bombarded. I am glad I am
here to exercise what slight restraining power I can, though I am glad
to say Philip shows no sign yet of having lost his head or lost his
temper. We drove in the evening to the aqueduct, a very lovely evening.
“_2nd Oct._—I went in the Embassy launch to Constantinople to-day to
lunch with my old relative, Walter Blunt Pasha. We landed at the railway
station on Seraglio Point, and drove across the bridge, where all things
had returned to their usual quiet. The Pasha tells me the Armenians who
formed the deputation had been warned not to come in large numbers, and
not to come armed. They therefore divided themselves into groups. One of
these was stopped by the police, and, an altercation arising, the
Bimbashi struck the leading Armenian with his sword, whereupon the man
nearest him drew a revolver and shot the Bimbashi through the head. This
led to a general riot; arrests were made and men killed on both sides.
There seems no doubt that the Moslems of the quarter were encouraged to
arm themselves with staves. He says, however, that the Government is
afraid now that the Softas who took part in the riot against the
Armenians will continue it against the Government. The Sultan, he says,
has become very unpopular in the last two years, and everybody would
really be glad to get rid of him. Even the highest officials are kept in
a state of tutelage which galls them severely. ‘I myself,’ he said,
‘could not so much as go away for forty-eight hours to Broussa without
permission from the Sultan himself. Neither the Minister of War nor the
Grand Vizier could give it me.’ The Softas, too, are tired of Abdul
Hamid, who they think is ruining the country. The army has been unpaid
for five months.
“Norman, a newspaper man, came in and told me tales of assaults and
assassinations of Armenians last night by the mob. But as yet neither
Europeans nor Greeks have been molested. I do not think the matter is
likely to go much farther at present. The chief Armenians went to-day to
the palace to arrange terms for the men shut up in the churches, and are
believed to have been successful. I find Philip very strong on the
necessity of getting rid of Abdul Hamid. ‘We have come to the
conclusion,’ he said to-day, ‘that it will be necessary to kill him. To
depose him would be very difficult, perhaps impossible.’ I do not
suppose that he would do this by any direct instigation, but he would
certainly countenance a revolution which should proceed by this means.
The idea is in the air, but twenty years of absolute despotism have
weeded out the more venturesome spirits.
“I have written a long letter on the political situation here to Lady
Lytton, who will, as likely as not, show it to the Queen, as she is now
in waiting at Balmoral. Archibald Lamb has arrived from England, Lady
Currie’s brother.
“_3rd Oct._—The Queen’s Messenger, old Conway Seymour, was despatched
to-day. So I was busy writing letters. Philip went in with him to the
Porte to call on the new Grand Vizier, Kiamil Pasha, who is supposed to
be more favourable to English policy than the last, Said Pasha. But I
fancy there is little real difference. I remember Kiamil at Aleppo in
1877, a little man of Jewish origin, who had once been tutor to the
Khedive Tewfik.
“_4th Oct._—In the launch to the mouth of the Black Sea, and in the
afternoon to the Sweet Waters of Asia in the ten-oared _caïque_, a
pretty sight. Philip saw the Grand Vizier to-day, having missed him
yesterday. He tells me the attacks on Armenians still continue, and the
churches are still full of refugees. It is certain, however, that the
Armenians are being pushed on by the Revolutionary Committee. It is a
Secret Committee prompted, Philip tells me, by Russian Nihilists; and
the trouble has been caused by the arrest of Armenians suspected of
belonging to it, and their torture in prison. On the other hand murders
have been instigated by the Committee, of Armenians suspected of
betraying their cause. They seem to count on English help, and talk of
an independent Armenia under an English Prince. All this is, of course,
impossible, but it is the fault of our people, who have encouraged a
rising they are really powerless to assist. On the other hand the
Sultan, Philip thinks, has a design of exterminating the Christian
Armenians in the provinces, just as the Emperor of Russia is
exterminating the Catholic Poles, and for the same reason, to govern the
country more easily. The delay in settling the Armenian question, raised
by England, has prompted the Committee to more desperate measures. It is
a curious state of things, which Philip says can only end in the
deposition or death of Abdul Hamid. We discuss these matters daily,
Philip and I and McDonnell and Yorke.
“On Monday I have arranged to go to Pera to stay with General Blunt, and
on Wednesday I depart for Egypt.
“_5th Oct._—A long ride with McDonnell in the forest of Belgrade. He
asked me whether I thought Lady Currie would make a good Ambassadress at
Paris. I had heard from Lady Galloway that Paris had been promised to
Lord Londonderry, and that in any case Philip would not have it.
McDonnell, however, being Lord Salisbury’s private secretary, doubtless
knows best, and I trust Philip may have it. He told me some interesting
particulars about his chief, his many virtues and his great tolerance
for those who had none. McDonnell is a charming fellow, with much of the
Kerr eccentricity, for he is through his mother a Kerr.
“In the evening a large dinner party to the Russian and Austrian
Ambassadors. . . . A sudden change of weather in the night, a violent
thunderstorm with heavy rain, and now a strong north wind. It is time I
was away in Egypt.
“_6th Oct. (Sunday)._—A day of wind and rain, no one moving out of doors
till about sunset, when I took Pom out for a walk in the Embassy garden.
There have been great comings and goings between Philip and the other
Embassies, for they are preparing some joint action on the Sultan to
stop the rioting in Constantinople. Pom is more communicative now than
Philip, and I hope I have been able to indoctrinate him a bit in my
ideas.
“_7th Oct._—The weather has cleared, and I drove in to Pera in an open
carriage, and am now in the house of my ‘relative’ at 51 rue Kabristan,
an old-fashioned little box of a place with a bow window looking over
the Golden Horn. General Blunt has been some twenty years in the
Sultan’s service, and received his promotion to the rank of Ferik,
General of Division, only yesterday—a fine-looking old man, who has no
other duty than to attend the Selamlik every Friday, and wear a handsome
uniform.
“Professor Vambéry came to dinner and Capt. Norman, and we had a most
interesting evening. The position here at Constantinople, according to
these, is this: The Armenians, having unquestionably begun the
disturbance, are now being harried by the joint action of the police and
the mob. The mob are encouraged, or at any rate allowed, to break into
the khans at night where the Armenians congregate, and sometimes into
private houses, and beat the people they find in them to death with
sticks. In some instances the police force admittance at the front door
while the Armenian escapes at the back door only to fall into the hands
of fellows waiting for him in the street. Thus several hundreds seem to
have been killed. The mob is ostensibly headed by Softas, students of
the University, but it is probable that these are often police agents in
the Softa dress. At any rate it is certain that the police connive. The
Armenian churches are full of refugees. Norman has been busy going round
to these and to the Patriarch’s house, where they also congregate, and
told us many tales.
“Vambéry was very communicative. He talked strongly against the Sultan
in this business, although he has been a favourite at the palace. He
declares that, though superstitious, the Sultan is at heart a free
thinker, his religion being with him a matter of policy, and he related
several anecdotes bearing on this point. It is the Sultan’s brother and
heir presumptive, Rashid,[13] who is a true ‘fanatic.’ The Sultan has a
deliberate political purpose, to diminish and drive out the Armenians,
imitating in this the Emperor of Russia in his treatment of the Poles
and the Jews. Vambéry is of opinion that Abdul Hamid cannot long retain
his throne, and agrees with me as to the desirability of renewing the
Constitution of 1876. This was the best chance Turkey ever had of
putting herself on a level with other European nations. It is the best
chance still. But it can hardly be under the present Sultan.
“_8th Oct._—With Godfrey Webb, Mrs. Horner, Mrs. Crawshay, and Lord
Llandaff (Matthews) to see the Museum and St. Sophia’s—and with Norman
to see the street door of the Armenian church in Pera.
“_9th Oct._—Left Constantinople for Egypt.
“_12th Oct._—Arrived at Sheykh Obeyd, _Elhamdu l’Illah_.
_Epitome of the Armenian Question, written by me on board ship on my way
to Alexandria._
“1. The Sultan, to prevent Armenia being given autonomy, on the ground
of its possessing a Christian majority in any one province, encourages
the Mohammedans of the Armenian provinces to ill-treat the Christians so
as to force them to emigrate.
“2. The Christian Armenians, under the direction of a secret Committee
organized by Russian Nihilists, and encouraged by English sympathy,
refuse to pay taxes at Samsun.
“3. The Sultan orders their resistance to be crushed at all cost.
“4. The Turkish military Governor crushes it with great barbarity.
“5. The English Government, under Rosebery, urged by its Liberal
supporters, intervenes. Philip Currie is urged to activity in repeated
despatches.
“6. The ‘Times,’ seeing in the Armenian question a useful counter-
irritant to the Egyptian question, chimes in.
“7. The English Government invites the French and Russian Governments to
join them. This at Philip Currie’s initiative.
“8. These, believing the English Government to be willing to partition
Turkey, accept the proposal of joint action. N.B. Rosebery probably is
willing to partition Turkey.
“9. Rosebery goes out of office in England. In Russia Giers dies and is
succeeded by Labanov. A change of policy ensues.
“10. France and Russia, knowing that Lord Salisbury, now at the Foreign
Office, will not consent to the partition of Turkey, back out of joint
action with England.
“11. Salisbury, to avoid questions in Parliament and to gain time,
professes to go on alone.
“12. The Sultan, secretly reassured at Paris and St. Petersburg,
stiffens his back. The negotiations at Constantinople are dawdled out.
“13. Gladstone makes his Armenian speech at Chester. Subscriptions are
opened in England.
“14. Salisbury, to make show of being in earnest, orders a British fleet
to the Dardanelles.
“15. The Armenian Committee, encouraged by the approach of the English
fleet, and believing Salisbury to be in earnest, and that England will
undertake the job of coercing the Sultan single-handed, organizes a
demonstration at Constantinople. This is done with Philip’s privity.
“16. The Sultan orders the Armenian demonstration to be crushed.
“17. The Armenians are crushed at Constantinople with great barbarity.
“18. ??
“N.B. My impression, gathered from what Philip has told me, strongly is
(1) that he was not keen, at the outset of the Samsun affair, to
intervene, but took the matter up under Rosebery’s orders; (2) that he
was responsible for the partnership with France and Russia; (3) that
having embarked in the business he has since made it one personal to
himself; (4) that for the last six months, at least, he has been in
communication with the Revolutionary Committee, probably acting in
concert with them; (5) that he was privy to the demonstration of 30th
September, probably encouraged it, though perhaps not its being armed.
It is he who told me that the Armenian Committee was organized by
Russian Nihilists. This Committee has for its object, not union with
Russia, but the establishment of an independent Armenia under English
protection. They would take annexation to Russia as a _pis-aller_. But
that is not their object.”
I found out afterwards that on Giers’ death the Russian policy towards
Armenia underwent an entire change, though Philip Currie was not aware
of it at the time. Instead of the old policy of protecting the Christian
subjects of the Porte, Labanov’s policy was to encourage the Sultan to
exterminate the Armenians as allies of Russia’s own Nihilists. It is
doubtful whether the change was communicated to Nelidoff, a diplomatist
of the old school of Christian protection; and I am inclined to think
that he was in good faith in continuing his own sympathy with the
Armenians, and expressing it to Currie. But of this later.