These proposals would probably have been sent to the Porte before the close of 1875 but for the diplomatic intervention of the British Cabinet. Affairs at London were then in the hands of that skilful and determined statesman, Disraeli, soon to become Lord Beaconsfield. It is impossible to discuss fully the causes of that bias in his nature which prejudiced him against supporting the Christians of Turkey. Those causes were due in part to the Semitic instincts of his Jewish ancestry,--the Jews having consistently received better treatment from the Turks than from the Russians,--and in part to his staunch Imperialism, which saw in Muscovite expansion the chief danger to British communications with India. Mr. Bryce has recently pointed out in a suggestive survey of Disraeli's character that tradition had great weight with him[93]. It is known to have been a potent influence on the mind of Queen Victoria; and, as the traditional policy at Whitehall was to support Turkey against Russia, all the personal leanings, which count for so much, told in favour of a continuance in the old lines, even though the circumstances had utterly changed since the time of the Crimean War.

When, therefore, Disraeli became aware that pressure was about to be applied to the Porte by the three Powers above named, he warned them that he considered any such action to be inopportune, seeing that Turkey ought to be allowed time to carry out a programme of reforms of recent date. By an iradé of October 2, 1875, the Sultan had promised to all his Christian subjects a remission of taxation and the right of choosing not only the controllers of taxes, but also delegates to supervise their rights at Constantinople.

In taking these promises seriously, Disraeli stood almost alone. But his speech of November 9, 1875, at the Lord Mayor's banquet, showed that he viewed the Eastern Question solely from the standpoint of British interests. His acts spoke even more forcibly than his words. That was the time when the dawn of Imperialism flushed all the eastern sky. H.R.H. the Prince of Wales had just begun his Indian tour amidst splendid festivities at Bombay; and the repetition of these in the native States undoubtedly did much to awaken interest in our Eastern Empire and cement the loyalty of its Princes and peoples. Next, at the close of the month of November, came the news that the British Government had bought the shares in the Suez Canal, previously owned by the Khedive of Egypt, for the sum of £4,500,000[94]. The transaction is now acknowledged by every thinking man to have been a master-stroke of policy, justified on all grounds, financial and Imperial. In those days it met with sharp censure from Disraeli's opponents. In a sense this was natural; for it seemed to be part of a scheme for securing British influence in the Levant and riding roughshod over the susceptibilities of the French (the constructors of the canal) and the plans of Russia. Everything pointed to the beginning of a period of spirited foreign policy which would lead to war with Russia.

Meanwhile the three Empires delayed the presentation of their scheme of reforms for Turkey, and, as it would seem, out of deference to British representations. The troubles in Herzegovina therefore went on unchecked through the winter, the insurgents refusing to pay any heed to the Sultan's promises, even though these were extended by the iradé of December 12, offering religious liberty and the institution of electoral bodies throughout the whole of European Turkey. The statesmen of the Continent were equally sceptical as to the bona fides of these offers, and on January 31, 1876, presented to the Porte their scheme of reforms already described. Disraeli and our Foreign Minister, Lord Derby, gave a cold and guarded assent to the "Andrassy Note," though they were known to regard it as "inopportune." To the surprise of the world, the Porte accepted the Note on February 11, with one reservation.

This act of acceptance, however, failed to satisfy the insurgents. They decided to continue the struggle. Their irreconcilable attitude doubtless arose from their knowledge of the worthlessness of Turkish promises when not backed by pressure from the Powers; and it should be observed that the "Note" gave no hint of any such pressure[95]. But it was also prompted by the hope that Servia and Montenegro would soon draw the sword on their behalf--as indeed happened later on. Those warlike peoples longed to join in the struggle against their ancestral foes; and their rulers were nothing loth to do so. Servia was then ruled by Prince Milan (1868-89), of that House of Obrenovitch which has been extinguished by the cowardly murders of June 1903 at Belgrade. He had recently married Nathalie Kechko, a noble Russian lady, whose connections strengthened the hopes that he naturally entertained of armed Muscovite help in case of a war with Turkey. Prince Nikita of Montenegro had married his second daughter to a Russian Grand Duke, cousin of the Czar Alexander II., and therefore cherished the same hopes. It was clear that unless energetic steps were taken by the Powers to stop the spread of the conflagration it would soon wrap the whole of the Balkan Peninsula in flames. An outbreak of Moslem fanaticism at Salonica (May 6), which led to the murder of the French and German Consuls at that port, shed a lurid light on the whole situation and convinced the Continental Powers that sterner measures must be adopted towards the Porte.

Such was the position, and such the considerations, that led the three Empires to adopt more drastic proposals. Having found, meanwhile, by informal conferences with the Herzegovinian leaders, what were the essentials to a lasting settlement, they prepared to embody them in a second Note, the Berlin Memorandum, issued on May 13. It was drawn up by the three Imperial Chancellors at Berlin, but Andrassy is known to have given a somewhat doubtful consent. T his "Berlin Memorandum" demanded the adoption of an armistice for two months; the repatriation of the Bosnian exiles and fugitives; the establishment of a mixed Commission for that purpose; the removal of Turkish troops from the rural districts of Bosnia; the right of the Consuls of the European Powers to see to the carrying out of all the promised reforms. Lastly, the Memorandum stated that if within two months the three Imperial Courts did not attain the end they had in view (viz. the carrying out of the needed reforms), it would become necessary to take "efficacious measures" for that purpose[96]. Bismarck is known to have favoured the policy of Gortchakoff in this affair.

The proposals of the Memorandum were at once sent to the British, French, and Italian Governments for their assent. The two last immediately gave it. After a brief delay the Disraeli Ministry sent a decisive refusal and made no alternative proposal, though one of its members, Sir Stafford Northcote, is known to have formulated a scheme[97]. The Cabinet took a still more serious step: on May 24, it ordered the British fleet in the Mediterranean to steam to Besika Bay, near the entrance to the Dardanelles--the very position it had taken before the Crimean War[98]. It is needless to say that this act not only broke up the "European Concert," but ended all hopes of compelling Turkey at once to grant the much-needed reforms. That compulsion would have been irresistible had the British fleet joined the Powers in preventing the landing of troops from Asia Minor in the Balkan Peninsula. As it was, the Turks could draw those reinforcements without hindrance.

The Berlin Memorandum was, of course, not presented to Turkey, and partly owing to the rapid changes which then took place at Constantinople. To these we must now advert.

The Sultan, Abdul Aziz, during his fifteen years of rule had increasingly shown himself to be apathetic, wasteful, and indifferent to the claims of duty. In the month of April, when the State repudiated its debts, and officials and soldiers were left unpaid, his life of luxurious retirement went on unchanged. It has been reckoned that of the total Turkish debt of £T200,000,000, as much as £T53,000,000 was due to his private extravagance[99]. Discontent therefore became rife, especially among the fanatical bands of theological students at Constantinople. These Softas, as they are termed, numbering some 20,000 or more, determined to breathe new life into the Porte--an aim which the patriotic "Young Turkey" party already had in view. On May 11 large bands of Softas surrounded the buildings of the Grand Vizier and the Sheik-ul-Islam, and with wild cries compelled them to give up their powers in favour of more determined men. On the night of May 29-30 they struck at the Sultan himself. The new Ministers were on their side: the Sheik-ul-Islam, the chief of the Ulemas, who interpret Mohammedan theology and law, now gave sentence that the Sultan might be dethroned for mis-government; and this was done without the least show of resistance. His nephew, Murad Effendi, was at once proclaimed Sultan as Murad V.; a few days later the dethroned Sultan was secretly murdered, though possibly his death may have been due to suicide[100].

We may add here that Murad soon showed himself to be a friend to reform; and this, rather than any incapacity for ruling, was probably the cause of the second palace revolution, which led to his deposition on August 31. Thereupon his brother, the present ruler, Abdul Hamid, ascended the throne. His appearance was thus described by one who saw him at his first State progress through his capital: "A somewhat heavy and stern countenance . . . narrow at the temples, with a long gloomy cast of features, large ears, and dingy complexion. . . . It seemed to me the countenance of a ruler capable of good or evil, but knowing his own mind and determined to have his own way[101]." This forecast has been fulfilled in the most sinister manner.

If any persons believed in the official promise of June 1, that there should be "liberty for all" in the Turkish dominions, they might have been undeceived by the events that had just transpired to the south of the Balkan Mountains. The outbreak of Moslem fanaticism, which at Constantinople led to the dethronement of two Sultans in order to place on the throne a stern devotee, had already deluged with blood the Bulgarian districts near Philippopolis. In the first days of May, the Christians of those parts, angered by the increase of misrule and fired with hope by the example of the Herzegovinians, had been guilty of acts of insubordination; and at Tatar Bazardjik a few Turkish officials were killed. The movement was of no importance, as the Christians were nearly all unarmed. Nevertheless, the authorities poured into the disaffected districts some 18,000 regulars, along with hordes of irregulars, or Bashi-Bazouks; and these, especially the last, proceeded to glut their hatred and lust in a wild orgy which desolated the whole region with a thoroughness that the Huns of Attila could scarcely have excelled (May 9-16). In the upper valley of the Maritza out of eighty villages, all but fifteen were practically wiped out. Batak, a flourishing town of some 7000 inhabitants, underwent a systematic massacre, culminating in the butchery of all who had taken refuge in the largest church; of the whole population only 2000 managed to escape[102].

It is painful to have to add that the British Government was indirectly responsible for these events. Not only had it let the Turks know that it deprecated the intervention of the European Powers in Turkey (which was equivalent to giving the Turks carte blanche in dealing with their Christian subjects), but on hearing of the Herzegovina revolt, it pressed on the Porte the need of taking speedy measures to suppress them. The despatches of Sir Henry Elliott, our ambassador at Constantinople, also show that he had favoured the use of active measures towards the disaffected districts north of Philippopolis[103].

Of course, neither the British Government nor its ambassador foresaw the awful results of this advice; but their knowledge of Turkish methods should have warned them against giving it without adding the cautions so obviously needed. Sir Henry Elliott speedily protested against the measures adopted by the Turks, but then it was too late[104]. Furthermore, the contemptuous way in which Disraeli dismissed the first reports of the Bulgarian massacres as "coffee-house babble" revealed his whole attitude of mind on Turkish affairs; and the painful impression aroused by this utterance was increased by his declaration of July 30 that the British fleet then at Besika Bay was kept there solely in defence of British interests. He made a similar but more general statement in the House of Commons on August 11. On the next morning the world heard that Queen Victoria had been pleased to confer on him the title of Earl of Beaconsfield. It is well known, on his own admission, that he could no longer endure the strain of the late sittings in the House of Commons and had besought Her Majesty for leave to retire. She, however, suggested the gracious alternative that he should continue in office with a seat in the House of Lords. None the less, the conferring of this honour was felt by very many to be singularly inopportune.

For at this time tidings of the massacres at Batak and elsewhere began to be fully known. Despite the efforts of Ministers to discredit them, they aroused growing excitement; and when the whole truth was known, a storm of indignation swept over the country as over the whole of Europe. Efforts were made by the Turcophil Press to represent the new trend of popular feeling as a mere party move and an insidious attempt of the Liberal Opposition to exploit humanitarian sentiment; but this charge will not bear examination. Mr. Gladstone had retired from the Liberal Leadership early in 1875 and was deeply occupied in literary work; and Lords Granville and Hartington, on whom devolved the duty of leading the Opposition, had been very sparing of criticisms on the foreign policy of the Cabinet. They, as well as Mr. Gladstone, had merely stated that the Government, on refusing to join in the Berlin Memorandum, ought to have formulated an alternative policy. We now know that Mr. Gladstone left his literary work doubtfully and reluctantly[105].

Now, however, the events in Bulgaria shed a ghastly light on the whole situation, and showed the consequences of giving the "moral support" of Britain to the Turks. The whole question ceased to rest on the high and dry levels of diplomacy, and became one of life or death for many thousands of men and women. The conscience of the country was touched to the quick by the thought that the presence of the British Mediterranean fleet at Besika Bay was giving the same encouragement to the Turks as it had done before the Crimean War, and that, too, when they had belied the promises so solemnly given in 1856, and were now proved to be guilty of unspeakable barbarities. In such a case, the British nation would have been disgraced had it not demanded that no further alliance should be formed. It was equally the duty of the leaders of the Opposition to voice what was undoubtedly the national sentiment. To have kept silence would have been to stultify our Parliamentary institutions. The parrot cry that British interests were endangered by Russia's supposed designs on Turkey, was met by the unanswerable reply that, if those designs existed, the best way to check them was to maintain the European Concert, and especially to keep in close touch with Austria, seeing that that Power had as much cause as England to dread any southward extension of the Czar's power. Russia might conceivably fight Turkey and Great Britain; but she would not wage war against Austria as well. Therefore, the dictates of humanity as well as those of common sense alike condemned the British policy, which from the outset had encouraged the Turks to resist European intervention, had made us in some measure responsible for the Bulgarian massacres, and, finally, had broken up the Concert of the Powers, from which alone a peaceful solution of the Eastern Question could be expected.

The union of the Powers having been dissolved by British action, it was but natural that Russia and Austria should come to a private understanding. This came about at Reichstadt in Bohemia on July 8. No definitive treaty was signed, but the two Emperors and their Chancellors framed an agreement defining their spheres of influence in the Balkans in case war should break out between Russia and Turkey. Francis Joseph of Austria covenanted to observe a neutrality friendly to the Czar under certain conditions that will be noticed later on. Some of those conditions were distasteful to the Russian Government, which sounded Bismarck as to his attitude in case war broke out between the Czar and the Hapsburg ruler. Apparently the reply of the German Chancellor was unfavourable to Russia[106], for it thereafter renewed the negotiations with the Court of Vienna. On the whole, the ensuing agreement was a great diplomatic triumph; for the Czar thereby secured the neutrality of Austria--a Power that might readily have remained in close touch with Great Britain had British diplomacy displayed more foresight.

The prospects of a great war, meanwhile, had increased owing to the action of Servia and Montenegro. The rulers of those States, unable any longer to hold in their peoples, and hoping for support from their Muscovite kinsfolk, declared war on Turkey at the end of June. Russian volunteers thronged to the Servian forces by thousands; but, despite the leadership of the Russian General, Tchernayeff, they were soon overborne by the numbers and fanatical valour of the Turks. Early in September, Servia appealed to the Powers for their mediation; and, owing chiefly to the efforts of Great Britain, terms for an armistice were proposed by the new Sultan, Abdul Hamid, but of so hard a nature that the Servians rejected them.

On the fortune of war still inclining against the Slavonic cause, the Russian people became intensely excited; and it was clear that they would speedily join in the war unless the Turks moderated their claims. There is reason to believe that the Czar Alexander II. dreaded the outbreak of hostilities with Turkey in which he might become embroiled with Great Britain. The Panslavonic party in Russia was then permeated by revolutionary elements that might threaten the stability of the dynasty at the end of a long and exhausting struggle. But, feeling himself in honour bound to rescue Servia and Montenegro from the results of their ill-judged enterprise, he assembled large forces in South Russia and sent General Ignatieff to Constantinople with the demand, urged in the most imperious manner (Oct. 30), that the Porte should immediately grant an armistice to those States. At once Abdul Hamid gave way.

Even so, Alexander II. showed every desire of averting the horrors of war. Speaking to the British ambassador at St. Petersburg on November 2, he said that the present state of affairs in Turkey "was intolerable, and unless Europe was prepared to act with firmness and energy, he should be obliged to act alone." But he pledged his word that he desired no aggrandisement, and that "he had not the smallest wish or intention to be possessed of Constantinople[107]." At this time proposals for a Conference of the Powers at Constantinople were being mooted: they had been put forth by the British Government on October 5. There seemed, therefore, to be some hope of a compromise if the Powers reunited so as to bring pressure to bear on Turkey; for, a week later, the Sultan announced his intention of granting a constitution, with an elected Assembly to supervise the administration. But hopes of peace as well as of effective reform in Turkey were damped by the warlike speech of Lord Beaconsfield at the Lord Mayor's banquet on November 9. He then used these words. If Britain draws the sword "in a righteous cause; if the contest is one which concerns her liberty, her independence, or her Empire, her resources, I feel, are inexhaustible. She is not a country that, when she enters into a campaign, has to ask herself whether she can support a second or a third campaign." On the next day the Czar replied in a speech at Moscow to the effect that if the forthcoming Conference at Constantinople did not lead to practical results, Russia would be forced to take up arms; and he counted on the support of his people. A week later 160,000 Russian troops were mobilised.

The issue was thus clear as far as concerned Russia. It was not so clear for Great Britain. Even now, we are in ignorance as to the real intent of Lord Beaconsfield's speech at the Guildhall. It seems probable that, as there were divisions in his Cabinet, he may have wished to bring about such a demonstration of public feeling as would strengthen his hands in proposing naval and military preparations. The duties of a Prime Minister are so complex that his words may be viewed either in an international sense, or as prompted by administrative needs, or by his relations to his colleagues, or, again, they may be due merely to electioneering considerations. Whatever their real intent on this occasion, they were interpreted by Russia as a defiance and by Turkey as a promise of armed help.

On the other hand, if Lord Beaconsfield hoped to strengthen the pro-Turkish feeling in the Cabinet and the country, he failed. The resentment aroused by Turkish methods of rule and repression was too deep to be eradicated even by his skilful appeals to Imperialist sentiment. The Bulgarian atrocities had at least brought this much of good: they rendered a Turco-British alliance absolutely impossible.

Lord Derby had written to this effect on August 29 to Sir Henry Elliott: "The impression produced here by events in Bulgaria has completely destroyed sympathy with Turkey. The feeling is universal and so strong that even if Russia were to declare war against the Porte, Her Majesty's Government would find it practically impossible to interfere[108]."

The assembly of a Conference of the envoys of the Powers at Constantinople was claimed to be a decisive triumph for British diplomacy. There were indeed some grounds for hoping that Turkey would give way before a reunited Europe. The pressure brought to bear on the British Cabinet by public opinion resulted in instructions being given to Lord Salisbury (our representative, along with Sir H. Elliott, at the Conference) which did not differ much from the avowed aims of Russia and of the other Powers. Those instructions stated that the Powers could not accept mere promises of reform, for "the whole history of the Ottoman Empire, since it was admitted into the European Concert under the engagements of the Treaty of Paris [1856], has proved that the Porte is unable to guarantee the execution of reforms in the provinces by Turkish officials, who accept them with reluctance and neglect them with impunity." The Cabinet, therefore, insisted that there must be "external guarantees," but stipulated that no foreign armies must be introduced into Turkey[109]. Here alone British Ministers were at variance with the other Powers; and when, in the preliminary meetings of the Conference, a proposal was made to bring Belgian troops in order to guarantee the thorough execution of the proposed reforms, Lord Salisbury did not oppose it. In pursuance of instructions from London, he even warned the Porte that Britain would not give any help in case war resulted from its refusal of the European proposals.

It is well known that Lord Salisbury was far less pro-Turkish than the Prime Minister or the members of the British embassy at Constantinople. During a diplomatic tour that he had made to the chief capitals he convinced himself "that no Power was disposed to shield Turkey--not even Austria--if blood had to be shed for the status quo." (The words are those used by his assistant, Mr., afterwards Sir, William White.) He had had little or no difficulty in coming to an understanding with the Russian plenipotentiary, General Ignatieff, despite the intrigues of Sir Henry Elliott and his Staff to hinder it[110]. Indeed, the situation shows what might have been effected in May 1876, had not the Turks then received the support of the British Government.

Now, however, there were signs that the Turks declined to take the good advice of the Powers seriously; and on December 23, when the "full" meetings of the Conference began, the Sultan and his Ministers treated the plenipotentiaries to a display of injured virtue and reforming zeal that raised the situation to the level of the choicest comedy. In the midst of the proceedings, after the Turkish Foreign Minister, Safvet Pacha, had explained away the Bulgarian massacres as a myth woven by the Western imagination, salvoes of cannon were heard, that proclaimed the birth of a new and most democratic constitution for the whole of the Turkish Empire. Safvet did justice to the solemnity of the occasion; the envoys of the Powers suppressed their laughter; and before long, Lord Salisbury showed his resentment at this display of oriental irony and stubbornness by ordering the British Fleet to withdraw from Besika Bay[111].

But deeds and words were alike wasted on the Sultan and his Ministers. To all the proposals and warnings of the Powers they replied by pointing to the superior benefits about to be conferred by the new constitution. The Conference therefore speedily came to an end (Jan. 20). It had served its purpose. It had fooled Europe[112].

The responsibility for this act of cynical defiance must be assigned to one man. The Sultan had never before manifested a desire for any reform whatsoever; and it was not until December 19, 1876, that he named as Grand Vizier Midhat Pasha, who was known to have long been weaving constitutional schemes. This Turkish Siéyès was thrust to the front in time to promulgate that fundamental reform. His tenure of power, like that of the French constitution-monger in 1799, ended when the scheme had served the purpose of the real controller of events. Midhat obviously did not see whither things were tending. On January 24, 1877, he wrote to Saïd Pasha, stating that, according to the Turkish ambassador at London (Musurus Pasha), Lord Derby congratulated the Sublime Porte on the dissolution of the Conference, "which he considers a success for Turkey[113]."

It therefore only remained to set the constitution in motion. After six days, when no sign of action was forthcoming, Midhat wrote to the Sultan in urgent terms, reminding him that their object in promulgating the constitution "was certainly not merely to find a solution of the so-called Eastern Question, nor to seek thereby to make a demonstration that should conciliate the sympathies of Europe, which had been estranged from us." This Note seems to have irritated the Sultan. Abdul Hamid, with his small, nervous, exacting nature, has always valued Ministers in proportion to their obedience, not to their power of giving timely advice. In every independent suggestion he sees the germ of opposition, and perhaps of a palace plot. He did so now. By way of reply, he bade Midhat come to the Palace. Midhat, fearing a trap, deferred his visit, until he received the assurance that the order for the reforms had been issued. Then he obeyed the summons; at once he was apprehended, and was hurried to the Sultan's yacht, which forthwith steamed away for the Aegean (Feb. 5). The fact that he remained above its waters, and was allowed to proceed to Italy, may be taken as proof that his zeal for reform had been not without its uses in the game which the Sultan had played against the Powers. The Turkish Parliament, which assembled on March 1, acted with the subservience that might have been expected after this lesson. The Sultan dissolved it on the outbreak of war, and thereafter gave up all pretence of constitutional forms. As for Midhat, he was finally lured back to Turkey and done to death. Such was the end of the Turkish constitution, of the Turkish Parliament, and of their contriver[114].

Even the dissolution of the Conference of the Powers did not bring about war at once. It seems probable that the Czar hoped much from the statesmanlike conduct of Lord Salisbury at Constantinople, or perhaps he expected to secure the carrying out of the needed reforms by means of pressure from the Three Emperors' League (see Chapter XII.). But, unless the Russians gave up all interest in the fate of her kinsmen and co-religionists in Turkey, war was now the more probable outcome of events. Alexander had already applied to Germany for help, either diplomatic or military; but these overtures, of whatever kind, were declined by Bismarck--so he declared in his great speech of February 6, 1888. Accordingly, the Czar drew closer to Austria, with the result that the Reichstadt agreement of July 8, 1876, now assumed the form of a definitive treaty signed at Vienna between the two Powers on January 15, 1877.

The full truth on this subject is not known. M. Élie de Cyon, who claims to have seen the document, states that Austria undertook to remain neutral during the Russo-Turkish War, that she stipulated for a large addition of territory if the Turks were forced to quit Europe; also that a great Bulgaria should be formed, and that Servia and Montenegro should be extended so as to become conterminous. To the present writer this account appears suspect. It is inconceivable that Austria should have assented to an expansion of these principalities which would bar her road southward to Salonica[115].

Another and more probable version was given by the Hungarian Minister, M. Tisza, during the course of debates in the Hungarian Delegations in the spring of 1887, to this effect:--(1) No Power should claim an exclusive right of protecting the Christians of Turkey, and the Great Powers should pronounce on the results of the war; (2) Russia would annex no land on the right (south) bank of the Danube, would respect the integrity of Roumania, and refrain from touching Constantinople; (3) if Russia formed a new Slavonic State in the Balkans, it should not be at the expense of non-Slavonic peoples; and she would not claim special rights over Bulgaria, which was to be governed by a prince who was neither Russian nor Austrian; (4) Russia would not extend her military operations to the districts west of Bulgaria. These were the terms on which Austria agreed to remain neutral; and in certain cases she claimed to occupy Bosnia and Herzegovina[116].

Doubtless these, or indeed any, concessions to Austria were repugnant to Alexander II. and Prince Gortchakoff; but her neutrality was essential to Russia's success in case war broke out; and the Czar's Government certainly acted with much skill in securing the friendly neutrality of the Power which in 1854 had exerted so paralysing a pressure on the Russian operations on the Lower Danube.

Nevertheless, Alexander II. still sought to maintain the European Concert with a view to the exerting of pacific pressure upon Turkey. Early in March he despatched General Ignatieff on a mission to the capitals of the Great Powers; except at Westminster, that envoy found opinion favourable to the adoption of some form of coercion against Turkey, in case the Sultan still hardened his heart against good advice. Even the Beaconsfield Ministry finally agreed to sign a Protocol, that of March 31, 1877, which recounted the efforts of the six Great Powers for the improvement of the lot of the Christians in Turkey, and expressed their approval of the promises of reform made by that State on February 13, 1876. Passing over without notice the new Turkish Constitution, the Powers declared that they would carefully watch the carrying out of the promised reforms, and that, if no improvement in the lot of the Christians should take place, "they [the Powers] reserve to themselves to consider in common as to the means which they may deem best fitted to secure the wellbeing of the Christian populations, and the interests of the general peace[117]." This final clause contained a suggestion scarcely less threatening than that with which the Berlin Memorandum had closed; and it is difficult to see why the British Cabinet, which now signed the London Protocol, should have wrecked that earlier effort of the Powers. In this as in other matters it is clear that the Cabinet was swayed by a "dual control."

But now it was all one whether the British Government signed the Protocol or not. Turkey would have none of it. Despite Lord Derby's warning that "the Sultan would be very unwise if he would not endeavour to avail himself of the opportunity afforded him to arrange a mutual disarmament," that potentate refused to move a hair's-breadth from his former position. On the 12th of April the Turkish ambassador announced to Lord Derby the final decision of his Government: "Turkey, as an independent State, cannot submit to be placed under any surveillance, whether collective or not. . . . No consideration can arrest the Imperial Government in their determination to protest against the Protocol of the 31st March, and to consider it, as regards Turkey, as devoid of all equity, and consequently of all binding character." Lord Derby thereupon expressed his deep regret at this decision, and declared that he "did not see what further steps Her Majesty's Government could take to avert a war which appeared to have become inevitable[118]."

The Russian Government took the same view of the case, and on April 7-19, 1877, stated in a despatch that, as a pacific solution of the Eastern Question was now impossible, the Czar had ordered his armies to cross the frontiers of Turkey. The official declaration of war followed on April 12-24. From the point of view of Lord Derby this seemed "inevitable." Nevertheless, on May 1 he put his name to an official document which reveals the curious dualism which then prevailed in the Beaconsfield Cabinet. This reply to the Russian despatch contained the assertion that the last answer of the Porte did not remove all hope of deference on its part to the wishes and advice of Europe, and "that the decision of the Russian Government is not one which can have their concurrence or approval." We shall not be far wrong in assuming that, while the hand that signed this document was the hand of Derby, the spirit behind it was that of Beaconsfield.

In many quarters the action of Russia was stigmatised as the outcome of ambition and greed, rendered all the more odious by the cloak of philanthropy which she had hitherto worn. The time has not come when an exhaustive and decisive verdict can be given on this charge. Few movements have been free from all taint of meanness; but it is clearly unjust to rail against a great Power, because, at the end of a war which entailed frightful losses and a serious though temporary loss of prestige, it determined to exact from the enemy the only form of indemnity which was forthcoming, namely, a territorial indemnity. Russia's final claims, as will be seen, were open to criticism at several points; but the censure just referred to is puerile. It accords, however, with most of the criticisms passed in London "club-land," which were remarkable for their purblind cynicism.

No one who has studied the mass of correspondence contained in the Blue-books relating to Turkey in 1875-77 can doubt that the Emperor Alexander II. displayed marvellous patience in face of a series of brutal provocations by Moslem fanatics and the clamour of his own people for a liberating crusade. Bismarck, who did not like the Czar, stated that he did not want war, but waged it "under stress of Panslavist influence[119]." That some of his Ministers and Generals had less lofty aims is doubtless true; but practically all authorities are now agreed that the maintenance of the European Concert would have been the best means of curbing those aims. Yet, despite the irritating conduct of the Beaconsfield Cabinet, the Emperor Alexander sought to re-unite Europe with a view to the execution of the needed reforms in Turkey. Even after the successive rebuffs of the rejection of the Berlin Memorandum by Great Britain and of the suggestions of the Powers at Constantinople by Turkey, he succeeded in restoring the semblance of accord between the Powers, and of leaving to Turkey the responsibility of finally and insolently defying their recommendations. A more complete diplomatic triumph has rarely been won. It was the reward of consistency and patience, qualities in which the Beaconsfield Cabinet was signally lacking.

We may notice one other criticism: that Russia's agreement with Austria implied the pre-existence of aggressive designs. This is by no means conclusive. That the Czar should have taken the precaution of coming to the arrangement of January 1877 with Austria does not prove that he was desirous of war. The attitude of Turkey during the Conference at Constantinople left but the slightest hope of peace. To prepare for war in such a case is not a proof of a desire for war, but only of common prudence.

Certain writers in France and Germany have declared that Bismarck was the real author of the Russo-Turkish War. The dogmatism of their assertions is in signal contrast with the thinness of their evidence[120]. It rests mainly on the statement that the Three Emperors' League (see Chapter XII.) was still in force; that Bismarck had come to some arrangement for securing gains to Austria in the south-east as a set-off to her losses in 1859 and 1866; that Austrian agents in Dalmatia had stirred up the Herzegovina revolt of 1875; and that Bismarck and Andrassy did nothing to avert the war of 1877. Possibly he had a hand in these events--he had in most events of the time; and there is a suspicious passage in his Memoirs as to the overtures made to Berlin in the autumn of 1876. The Czar's Ministers wished to know whether, in the event of a war with Austria, they would have the support of Germany. To this the Chancellor replied, that Germany could not allow the present equilibrium of the monarchical Powers to be disturbed: "The result . . . was that the Russian storm passed from Eastern Galicia to the Balkans[121]." Thereafter Russia came to terms with Austria as described above.

But the passage just cited only proves that Russia might have gone to war with Austria over the Eastern Question. In point of fact, she went to war with Turkey, after coming to a friendly arrangement with Austria. Bismarck therefore acted as "honest-broker" between his two allies; and it has yet to be proved that Bismarck did not sincerely work with the two other Empires to make the coercion of Turkey by the civilised Powers irresistibly strong. In his speech of December 6, 1876, to the Reichstag, the Chancellor made a plain and straightforward declaration of his policy, namely, that of neutrality, but inclining towards friendship with Austria. That, surely, did not drive Russia into war with Turkey, still less entice her into it. As for the statement that Austrian intrigues were the sole cause of the Bosnian revolt, it must appear childish to all who bear in mind the exceptional hardships and grievances of the peasants of that province. Finally, the assertion of a newspaper, the Czas, that Queen Victoria wrote to Bismarck in April 1877 urging him to protest against an attack by Russia on Turkey, may be dismissed as an impudent fabrication[122]. It was altogether opposed to the habits of her late Majesty to write letters of that kind to the Foreign Ministers of other Powers.

Until documents of a contrary tenor come to light, we may say with some approach to certainty that the responsibility for the war of 1877-78 rests with the Sultan of Turkey and with those who indirectly encouraged him to set at naught the counsels of the Powers. Lord Derby and Lord Salisbury had of late plainly warned him of the consequences of his stubbornness; but the influence of the British embassy at Constantinople and of the Turkish ambassador in London seems greatly to have weakened the force of those warnings.

It must always be remembered that the Turk will concede religious freedom and civic equality to the "Giaours" only under overwhelming pressure. In such a case he mutters "Kismet" ("It is fate"), and gives way; but the least sign of weakness or wavering on the part of the Powers awakens his fanatical scruples. Then his devotion to the Koran forbids any surrender. History has afforded several proofs of this, from the time of the Battle of Navarino (1827) to that of the intervention of the Western Powers on behalf of the slaughtered and harried Christians of the Lebanon (1860). Unfortunately Abdul Hamid had now come to regard the Concert of the Powers as a "loud-sounding nothing." With the usual bent of a mean and narrow nature he detected nothing but hypocrisy in its lofty professions, and self-seeking in its philanthropic aims, together with a treacherous desire among influential persons to make the whole scheme miscarry. Accordingly he fell back on the boundless fund of inertia, with which a devout Moslem ruler blocks the way to western reforms. A competent observer has finely remarked that the Turk never changes; his neighbours, his frontiers, his statute-books may change, but his ideas and his practice remain always the same. He will not be interfered with; he will not improve[123]. To this statement we must add that only under dire necessity will he allow his Christian subjects to improve. The history of the Eastern Question may be summed up in these assertions.

Abdul Hamid II. is the incarnation of the reactionary forces which have brought ruin to Turkey and misery to her Christian subjects. He owed his crown to a recrudescence of Moslem fanaticism; and his reign has illustrated the unsuspected strength and ferocity of his race and creed in face of the uncertain tones in which Christendom has spoken since the spring of the year 1876. The reasons which prompted his defiance a year later were revealed by his former Grand Vizier, Midhat Pasha, in an article in the Nineteenth Century for June 1877. The following passage is especially illuminating:--

Turkey was not unaware of the attitude of the English Government towards her; the British Cabinet had declared in clear terms that it would not interfere in our dispute. This decision of the English Cabinet was perfectly well known to us, but we knew still better that the general interests of Europe and the particular interests of England were so bound up in our dispute with Russia that, in spite of all the Declarations of the English Cabinet, it appeared to us to be absolutely impossible for her to avoid interfering sooner or later in this Eastern dispute. This profound belief, added to the reasons we have mentioned, was one of the principal factors of our contest with Russia[124].

It appears, then, that the action of the British Government in the spring and summer of 1876, and the well-known desire of the Prime Minister to intervene in favour of Turkey, must have contributed to the Sultan's decision to court the risks of war rather than allow any intervention of the Powers on behalf of his Christian subjects.

The information that has come to light from various quarters serves to strengthen the case against Lord Beaconsfield's policy in the years 1875-77. The letter written by Mr. White to Sir Robert Morier on January 16, 1877, and referred to above, shows that his diplomatic experience had convinced him of the futility of supporting Turkey against the Powers. In that letter he made use of these significant words:--"You know me well enough. I did not come here (Constantinople) to deceive Lord Salisbury or to defend an untenable Russophobe or pro-Turkish policy. There will probably be a difference of opinion in the Cabinet as to our future line of policy, and I shall not wonder if Lord Salisbury should upset Dizzy and take his place or leave the Government on this question. If he does the latter, the coach is indeed upset." Mr. White also referred to the personnel of the British Embassy at Constantinople in terms which show how mischievous must have been its influence on the counsels of the Porte.

A letter from Sir Robert Morier of about the same date proves that that experienced diplomatist also saw the evil results certain to accrue from the Beaconsfield policy:--"I have not ceased to din that into the ears of the F.O. (Foreign Office), to make ourselves the point d'appui of the Christians in the Turkish Empire, and thus take all the wind out of the sails of Russia; and after the population had seen the difference between an English and a Russian occupation [of the disturbed parts of Turkey] it would jump to the eyes even of the blind, and we should débuter into a new policy at Constantinople with an immense advantage[125]." This advice was surely statesmanlike. To support the young and growing nationalities in Turkey would serve, not only to checkmate the supposed aggressive designs of Russia, but also to array on the side of Britain the progressive forces of the East. To rely on the Turk was to rely on a moribund creature. It was even worse. It implied an indirect encouragement to the "sick man" to enter on a strife for which he was manifestly unequal, and in which we did not mean to help him. But these considerations failed to move Lord Beaconsfield and the Foreign Office from the paths of tradition and routine[126].

Finally, in looking at the events of 1875-76 in their broad outlines, we may note the verdict of a veteran diplomatist, whose conduct before the Crimean War proved him to be as friendly to the interests of Turkey as he was hostile to those of Russia, but who now saw that the situation differed utterly from that which was brought about by the aggressive action of Czar Nicholas I. in 1854. In a series of letters to the Times he pointed out the supreme need of joint action by all the Powers who signed the Treaty of Paris; that that treaty by no means prohibited their intervention in the affairs of Turkey; that wise and timely intervention would be to the advantage of that State; that the Turks had always yielded to coercion if it were of overwhelming strength, but only on those terms; and that therefore the severance of England from the European Concert was greatly to be deplored[127]. In private this former champion of Turkey went even farther, and declared on Sept. 10, 1876, that the crisis in the East would not have become acute had Great Britain acted conjointly with the Powers[128]. There is every reason to believe that posterity will endorse this judgment of Lord Stratford de Redcliffe.