The re‐establishment of Imperial authority in these regions justified, and indeed necessitated, a considerable increase in the Turkish flotilla in these waters. Before the opening of the Suez Canal, Turkey only possessed the two corvettes the Boursa, and the Ismir, neither of which was in a sea‐going condition. Midhat sent the Boursa to Bombay to undergo repairs, and added the Libnan, Iskenderoun, Deniz, Babel, Ninova, Nedjed, and Assour, besides ten vessels of light draught for river police, and to reinforce the Bagdad squadron. The port of Bussora, no longer adequate to the naval requirements of the province, was enlarged and improved, and works for an inner harbour capable of anchoring vessels of 10‐feet draught were commenced at Kut‐el‐Frenghi on the river Shat‐el‐arab.

All these various improvements and reforms, and the general advance in the political and administrative status of this important province, were highly appreciated by the Government of the Porte, which was now under the enlightened guidance of Aali Pasha, who addressed the following letter to Midhat Pasha:—

By the same courtier the Sultan Abdul Aziz sent Midhat Pasha a sword of honour set with diamonds, with the inscription “Nedjed” engraved on it. This was the closing scene of Midhat’s governorship of Bagdad, and with it closed the first half of his career, viz., as Provincial Governor. Circumstances were occurring at Constantinople destined to bring him on the scene there, to play his part in the important political events about to occur in the metropolis.

But a change of a portentous nature had taken place at Constantinople. Fuad Pasha and Aali Pasha, whose prestige and popularity had gained an ascendancy over the Sultan, and had, since his accession, practically monopolised power, and who had strenuously supported Midhat in all his reforming measures both on the Danube and the Euphrates, died within a few months of each other. The disappearance of these two able and powerful Ministers synchronized with the return of Abdul Aziz from a tour in Europe, when symptoms of an ominous character began to reveal themselves in the sovereign. He showed himself impatient of contradiction or advice of any kind, expressing openly his relief at being freed from the incubus of his former Grand Viziers; he completely changed the etiquette of the Court, imposing on the occasion of audiences an antiquated ceremonial, accompanied by unwonted prostrations to be observed on entering the Imperial presence, and he directed that henceforth he should be addressed in inflated language, strange even to the forms of Oriental adulation. But what was more serious than these triflings of Imperial vanity, was the fact that he now launched out, careless of the resources of the budget, on the most lavish expenditure of every kind both of a public and private nature. Fleets of costly ironclads were ordered and equipped without regard to their cost; marble palaces rose, as by enchantment, on the banks of the Bosphorus, and every whim and caprice on his own part or that of the Palace had to be gratified without stint or delay. He found in Mahmoud Nedim a compliant Grand Vizier, who, in return for the retention of power, undertook to find the ways and means for the gratification of all his master’s wishes.

The reflex action of this state of things at headquarters was felt in the most distant provinces. When the exactions of the Palace had expropriated the balance of the sums destined to the various services of the State, recourse was had to the provinces to make good the deficiencies by extraordinary “benevolences” and remittances. Works of public utility or necessity were accordingly suspended, and the funds necessary for their completion diverted to the metropolis. Incompetent favourites arrived from Constantinople with orders to the Vali to provide them with lucrative posts, and by these means the whole fabric of the new administration, painfully and patiently built up, was dislocated and deranged. Midhat, recognising the impossibility of governing in such conditions, resigned his Governorship and set out for Constantinople.

THE FIRST GRAND VIZIERATE OF MIDHAT PASHA.

On his arrival in Constantinople, Midhat found that an order had been issued for his banishment from the capital, under cloak of nominating him to the government of Adrianople. Insisting, however, on the exercise of his right of audience with the sovereign before setting out for his new post, he made such strong representations to the Sultan with respect to the general situation of the empire, that Abdul Aziz thereupon abruptly dismissed Mahmoud Nedim, and appointed Midhat Grand Vizier in his place (1873).

As soon as he had filled the principal offices of State with the best material he could find—Chirvani Rushdi Pasha, Djémil Pasha, and Sadik Pasha—the first and most pressing necessity that confronted him was to endeavour to put the Finances in order. This was no easy task. The public accounts presented were entirely fictitious. His first discovery was to the effect that whereas the budget showed a surplus of half a million (£T), there was in point of fact a deficit of three millions. The actual appropriation of the sums debited in the accounts presented another difficulty. A sum of £T100,000 disbursed by the Treasury was not accounted for at all. Midhat insisted on a full inquiry, and, discovering that this sum had been appropriated by the late Grand Vizier, directed an investigation into the matter before the members of the Council of State, who ordered its immediate restitution by Mahmoud Nedim, and recommended his banishment. He, however, alleging in private that this sum in question although nominally attributed to him was really allotted to the Palace, found in the Valide Sultan and her entourage most powerful allies in his duel with Midhat. Banished by the insistence of the Grand Vizier, first to Adrianople and then to Trebizond, he soon obtained permission to return to Constantinople.

Two distinct parties began now to stand out in clear relief. On the one side was Midhat, warmly supported by public opinion in the capital and in the provinces, and by all that was most enlightened among the Softas and Ulemas, headed by Chakir Effendi, and on the other side the whole army of corruption, headed by Mahmoud Nedim and protected by the Valide Sultan and the Palace Camarilla. Another powerful ally of the late Grand Vizier was General Ignatieff, who by the most ingenious and persistent methods—condescending even to the resources of the stage—worked on the mind of the Sultan in order to restore Mahmoud Nedim to power.

An incident soon occurred which brought matters to a crisis. The Khedive of Egypt, desirous of changing the order of succession in his family and of obtaining various privileges and prerogatives from his suzerain, was in the habit of making periodical visits to Constantinople, carrying away with him each time, by judicious payments, some shred of the sovereign rights of the Porte. These visits became a regular source of income and emolument to the Palace and all its myrmidons. Arriving at Constantinople on the occasion of one of these visits he found Midhat Pasha installed as Grand Vizier, and to his surprise and disappointment, and to the discomfiture of the Palace clique, he was obliged this time to return to Alexandria with his presents, re infectâ.

It soon became apparent that one of two things must happen: the Sultan would either have to change the whole régime and scale of expenditure of the Palace, or change his Grand Vizier; and as he never really contemplated the former course, he adopted the latter. The determining cause was Midhat’s action with reference to certain scandals—incidents connected with Baron Hirsch’s railway schemes.

It is only in a despotic country, where State contracts are signed in the dark, and cahiers de charge are examined by carefully chosen experts and passed by complaisant accountants, that such a scandal as the Hirsch railways is possible or conceivable. If the cynicism of the whole transaction had not become notorious, and thus excited as much laughter as its nefariousness caused indignation, it would be worth while to set out in detail all the circumstances of this stupendous business.

To obtain a contract giving unlimited control over the richest forests in the world, on the pretext of cutting sleepers, is in itself a pretty smart stroke of business. To stipulate for payment of railways according to the mileage executed, irrespective of topographical considerations or local requirements, is a triumph of contracting skill; but to claim payment for work done in the plains only, on the basis of an average calculated for working through plains and mountain‐chains alike, is the very glory of financial genius. The secret, too, of the art was as simple as the result was lucrative. Backsheesh in adequate amounts, distributed at appropriate moments in the right quarters, was the alpha and omega of the business.

Midhat, in his determination to strike at the root of the whole system of corruption, irrespective of persons or of consequences, having discovered that the highest person in the land was himself a recipient of the largesses of the Austrian baron, insisted on the restitution of the sums received. The Sultan listened to the advice tendered, returned the money, and dismissed his Grand Vizier.

CHAPTER III

DEPOSITION AND DEATH OF ABDUL AZIZ

After an honourable exile as Governor of Salonica, Midhat obtained leave to return to Constantinople, and after a brief tenure of the office of Minister of Justice and of the Presidency of the Council of State, he handed in his resignation in the following terms, and retired to his Konak in the neighbourhood of the capital and awaited developments:

To Midhat Pasha, President of the Council of State.

Reply.

In the meantime things went from bad to worse in the affairs of the State. Grand Viziers one after the other were appointed and dismissed. Mehemet Rushdi Pasha, Essad Pasha, Chervani Rushdi Pasha, held office for a few months only, and with the best of intentions were utterly unable to grapple with the situation, and the “villain of the piece,” Mahmoud Nedim, was at last recalled to office. The finances of the country were fast getting beyond all remedy. Although it was only twenty years since the fatal secret of a national debt had been learnt in Turkey, bankruptcy was already staring the country in the face. So palpable was this to the best friends of Turkey, that Mr Yorke in the British Parliament, in the interests of a long‐standing ally of Great Britain, and of the alliance itself, called attention to the state of Turkish finances, and summoned the British Government to intervene through its ambassador at Constantinople to endeavour to ward off impending catastrophes. Three months after this warning the Turkish Treasury suspended payment on half the amount of the coupons of the public debt.

The outcry caused by this measure throughout Europe, not only in strictly commercial and financial circles, but in every class of the community, was indescribable. Tempted by the high rate of interest, and confiding in the assurances of financiers interested in floating successive loans that “Turkey always has paid and therefore always would pay” the coupons of its debts, the petite bourgeoisie and the small investor had largely placed their savings in Turkish bonds, and the “tightness” and misery caused by the suspension was undoubtedly very great (1875). Meetings of indignant bond‐holders were held in every capital and large city in Europe, and the Turkish Government and the Turkish nation, the Pasha and the people, were confounded in a common anathema. The ground was admirably prepared for an explosion of political passion directed against Turkey. The occasion for this was not long in presenting itself.

During the second Vizierate of Essad Pasha, certain movements of a suspicious nature took place on the Montenegrin frontier which would have arrested the attention of a more vigilant Government. A party of sixty Slav peasants from the village of Nevesinje in the Commune of Mostar, on some trivial quarrel with the local authorities, emigrated in a body across the frontier into Montenegro. In a short time, through the good offices of the Russian Ambassador, they obtained leave to return to their homes; but very soon, in concert with their Montenegrin friends, they organised a razzia on the lands of the neighbouring Mussulmans. Instead of nipping this incipient rebellion in the bud and enquiring into its cause, the local authorities temporised with its leaders and awaited instructions from Constantinople as to how they were to proceed. Encouraged by this impunity, and with the assurance of external support, the insurgent bands rapidly increased in numbers, and when at last the Government determined to act, it found itself in presence of a serious rebellion. Essad Pasha, well‐intentioned but weak, and preoccupied with the serious outlook of affairs generally, accepted the insidious offer of the Russian and Austrian Ambassadors to intervene between the leaders of the bands and the Supreme Government. No policy could have been more fatal. It afforded the greatest possible encouragement to the rebels, who considered the step an acknowledgment by the Government of its own inability to deal with the movement; it practically conceded belligerent rights to the rebels, and it encouraged the habit and consecrated the principle of interference by foreign governments in the internal affairs of the empire.

The hollowness of the offer was apparent the moment the terms of surrender came to be discussed, and the net result of this diplomatic comedy was, as was no doubt intended, that what was at first an insignificant rising of a handful of peasants was raised to the dignity of a recognised rebellion that could negotiate on equal terms with the Imperial Government through the medium of foreign consuls and ambassadors.

Mahmoud Nedim had now succeeded Essad Pasha as Grand Vizier (1875), and as no effective measures were taken to suppress the rising, it went on spreading from village to village and district to district till the contagion was caught in Bulgaria. There, in the beginning of 1874, a commencement of unrest showed itself in the districts of Drenova, Kazanlik, and Zagra; but the local authorities (warned by what had taken place in the Herzegovina through the neglect of initial precautions) had all the leaders of the movement arrested. Thereupon General Ignatieff made such energetic representations to the Porte, that orders arrived not only for the release of the imprisoned malcontents, but for the dismissal of all the functionaries concerned in their arrest.6

The effect of this novel and original mode of dealing with an insurrection was soon apparent in the effervescence and excitement it caused among the Mussulman population throughout the province. They saw rebel bands, the leaders of which were patronised and supported by foreign consuls and diplomatists, being organised without disguise and approaching their own hearths, whereas all defensive measures on the part of their own natural leaders were discountenanced and punished. They thereupon resolved to take the matter into their own hands, and formed vigilance committees and organised local bands under the command of retired zaptiés throughout the province.

In such psychological conditions an explosion of popular passions was certain sooner or later to take place. The occasion for this was furnished by an incident that occurred at Salonica on the 5th May 1875. This incident was, with the Bulgarian insurrection and the Berlin Note, one of the external difficulties that confronted the Government, and placed it in a very critical position. A young Bulgarian girl had come by rail to Salonica from a neighbouring village on the evening of the 5th May, accompanied by a hoadja, with a view to making a declaration of conversion to Mahomedanism before the Grand Council of Salonica—a formality required by the law, as a preliminary to her being married to a young Mahomedan of her village. On her arrival at the station she was met by a mob of Greeks and Bulgarians who pulled off her yashmak and feradje (mantle and veil), and forcing her into a carriage, in spite of the efforts of four zaptiés who came up in the middle of the disturbance, drove her at a gallop to the American Consulate, where the brother of the Vice‐Consul (a Bulgarian), who had arranged the abduction, concealed her during the night. The next day he had her removed to the house of a friend, so that all trace of the girl should be lost. But early next morning a Mussulman mob, comprising (as in such occurrences is certain to be the case) the worst and most violent sections of the population, had assembled at the Konak and loudly demanded the restoration of the girl and her appearance before the Grand Council. As their demands were not complied with, they retired to the Saatli Mosque, adjacent to the Governor’s Konak, where they reiterated their demands for the restoration of the girl. Unfortunately, by some fatality which was never satisfactorily explained, the German and French Consuls found their way into the mosque in the very midst of excited Mussulmans. Whether they went there of their own accord to remonstrate and argue with the people, or approaching the scene of the demonstration were hustled into the mosque, was never cleared up. But once they appeared there, the frenzy of the mob burst all bounds, and the most violent amongst them, pursuing the Consuls into one of the apartments of the Muderris (Academy) in connection with the mosque, fell on them with iron bars hastily snatched from the windows of the mosque, and murdered them on the spot. The English Consul, Mr Blunt, accompanied by his cavass, seems to have been the only one who kept his head on this occasion and acted with presence of mind and sagacity; for, at the risk of his own life, he forced his way to the Konak, and when he found that the Governor could not effect the restoration of the girl, which was the only way to calm the mob and rescue the Consuls, he sent to the American Vice‐Consulate to apprize Mr Lazaro, who was the cause of the whole disturbance, of the perilous situation of his colleagues, the French and German Consuls, and to implore him to restore the girl. Unfortunately, Mr Lazaro at first procrastinated and pretended that he did not know where the girl was, and so precious time was lost; and when subsequently, on a further appeal from Mr Consul Blunt, he delivered up the girl, it was too late, for the crime against the foreign Consuls who had intervened had been accomplished.

Although the Ottoman Government took immediate steps to punish the authors of this crime—the six principal leaders of which were immediately executed, and the remainder punished with severe terms of penal servitude—the effect of the outrage on the public opinion of Europe, in the existing state of feeling in regard to Turkey, can easily be conceived. It excited indignation everywhere; but the anti‐Turkish Press, now pretty numerous, seized on it with avidity and pointed to it as irrefragable evidence of the incorrigible fanaticism of the whole Mussulman population of the empire, and called for various coercive measures, amounting in some cases to a combined crusade, to protect the Christians in the country, now threatened with wholesale massacre.7

It was in vain that Europeans who had lived all their lives in the country, and were acquainted from personal experience with the feelings and opinions of the inhabitants, protested against these exaggerations and deprecated their vain terrors. Colonel James Baker, an English resident for twenty years in the neighbourhood of Salonica, where he had been farming on a large scale, and whose occupation had brought him in contact with all sorts and conditions of men, Christian and Mahomedan alike, wrote a book ridiculing these apprehensions, and communicating his experiences of the harmony and good fellowship existing among the adherents of both religions, with whom he had for twenty years been brought into contact.

But the experience of people living on the spot could not stem the torrent of hostile prejudice fortified by such dramatic examples as the murder of the Consuls at Salonica. General Ignatieff, whose plans were being admirably served by events, was not slow in lending the weight of his authority to the propagation of these imaginary terrors. He embodied 300 Montenegrin workmen at Constantinople to serve as a body‐guard of his Embassy, to the amusement of his more sensible colleagues, who were quite aware of the baselessness of the fears that were the pretext of these ostentatious precautions. But the mise en scène contrived by the ingenious ambassador was not the less effective, and these picturesque mountaineers as they lounged about the streets of Pera, in their handsome national costume, bristling with multifarious arms in their embroidered sashes, were striking advertisements of the terrible dangers that threatened all Christians in the fanatical land of the Osmanli.

Servia, too, was preparing to enter the lists. Although without the shred of a grievance against the suzerain Power, nor indeed alleging any, Prince Milan, moved by the sole ambition to convert his principality into a kingdom, had easily allowed himself to be drawn into the conspiracy of a concerted attack on the Ottoman Empire. All the reserves of his army were called out and armed with newly imported rifles; and trains full of Russian officers of all grades and ranks, from Generals of divisions to corporals and sergeants, arrived daily at the capital to organise this militia into a fighting machine, and to drill the raw peasants into soldiers. The whole country, in fact, from Belgrade to Alexinatz, was an armed camp.

Everything portended important developments for the ensuing spring (1875). Early in the year, information reached the Porte that a serious outbreak would take place in Bulgaria in the month of April, and that the districts of Philippopolis, Eski‐Zagra, and Tirnova would be the scene of the explosion. The information which was very detailed and supported by evidence as to its accuracy, was accompanied by an earnest request by the authorities of the threatened districts that a body of regular troops should be despatched to the spot to inspire confidence in the inhabitants and to protect the lives and property of peaceful citizens. General Ignatieff again interfered, and in the capacity of amicus curiæ, insisted that the presence of regular troops would only inflame the passions of the population and precipitate a crisis. Mahmoud Nedim allowed himself to be persuaded by the Russian Ambassador, and persisted in turning a deaf ear to the reiterated requests of the local authorities for the despatch of a regular force.

Three weeks before the appointed day (16th April 1875) the anticipated rising took place. It was accompanied by exactly the same incidents that had characterised every previous rising that obeyed a mot d’ordre from outside. The armed bands fell on the first Mussulmans they met with, and massacred them all, regardless of age or sex, with the obvious aim of provoking reprisals that should play into the hands of the enemies of Turkey.8 These reprisals did, in fact, take place, and were, no doubt, of a sanguinary and wholesale character. It is not intended here to defend or condemn the atrocities that took place on this occasion; but human nature being what it is, and the provocation endured by the Mussulman population being taken into account, and due allowance being made for the contagion of passion and panic, it is no great wonder if scenes were enacted in Bulgaria that have marked revolution and jacqueries in all ages in every part of the world; and perhaps still less if a confessedly and bitterly hostile Press in Europe denounced “methods of barbarism” with little sifting of evidence and with much dramatic exaggeration. Party spirit has occasionally not scrupled to apply exactly the same terms without much reason to the methods of warfare of its own regular troops. One fact was clearly and conclusively established by the various commissions subsequently sent to prosecute enquiries on the spot, viz., that not a single instance occurred of an unarmed Christian being injured, or of a Christian village being destroyed whose inhabitants had not actually risen in armed rebellion. Fanaticism, in the strict acceptation of the term, is not so discriminating.

Matters had now come to such a pass that a general cataclysm was to be apprehended. Bulgaria, Montenegro and Herzegovina in flames, Servia arming to the teeth under the supervision of competent foreign officers, Roumania preparing to move in the same direction, a bankrupt treasury at home, a Grand Vizier whose sole resource seemed to be in the promises and counsels of a perfidious ambassador, the arch‐enemy of his country, and a sovereign wholly unconscious, or careless, of the condition of the empire, provided his own extravagant caprices were gratified—such was the aspect of affairs in Turkey in the spring of 1876. But that was not all.

Under the spur of public opinion, and moved by secret springs in the same direction, European diplomacy was meddling with the matter. Rulers of State and masters of many legions were holding meetings to discuss the situation in the East, and “Notes” and “Memorandums” were flying about the Chancellories of Europe. The diplomatic outlook was quite as menacing as the situation at home was critical.

It was in such a condition of affairs that counsel was being taken in Midhat’s Konak, among a few patriots who did not yet despair of their country, as to the best mode of saving the empire. But before the events that led up to the deposition of the Sultan Abdul Aziz are detailed, it will be useful to cast a glance at what was passing in the diplomatic world in Europe.

The first and most important event in this respect, inasmuch as it was the key of all that subsequently occurred, was the meeting of the Czar and the Emperor of Austria at Reichstadt, 8th July 1876.9

The outcome of that interview, with respect to Turkey, is no secret to‐day, but twenty‐five years ago it was certainly ignored in London, otherwise the negotiations that took place between the English and Austrian Governments relative to the contingency of an armed intervention in the Turko‐Russian War—carried on through the Austrian Embassy in London in the significant absence of the Ambassador, which went so far as to discuss the terms of a guaranteed war loan—would certainly not have occurred. The acumen of the English Government on this occasion would seem to have been somewhat at fault, and the information that came to it from Vienna strangely unreliable; for it acted, throughout negotiations extending over two years, in undisturbed reliance on the bonâ fides of the Austrian Chancellor’s assurances, and apparently in a secure trust in the force of his Magyar prejudices with respect to Russia. The fact is patent to‐day—and was well known at Berlin, and was not ignored in Paris—that Austria was, if not the actual instigator of the Herzegovinian rising—which is by no means certain—the Power that was determined to profit by it, and that her whole policy and diplomatic action with respect to the events that were taking place in the South‐East of Europe was governed by this determination.

The turning‐point of Austrian policy with respect to Turkey has already been indicated: the abandonment by England of Austria’s interests on the Danube left her free, or even compelled her to have regard to what she considered her own exclusive interests; and the meeting of the two Emperors, at the breaking out of the Herzegovinian disturbances, was the confirmation of this change of policy.

Two assurances seem to have been given by the Czar at this now historic interview. First, that whatever might be the outcome of events in Turkey, he would not seek for Russia any territorial aggrandisement in Europe; and secondly, with regard to Bosnia and Herzegovina, that in the contingency of the continuance of disturbances there he would not oppose the occupation of those provinces by Austria if sanctioned by the rest of Europe.

If this agreement had not been a secret one, and the terms of it had been known or suspected in London, does any one imagine that events would have followed the course they did, or that the “Notes” and “Memorandums” coming from Vienna and Berlin would have been taken seriously by the English Cabinet? The pact between the two Emperors, sealed at Reichstadt, was quite as much at the expense of England in Asia as of Turkey in Europe. It was a practical corollary of Prince Bismarck’s avowed Eastern policy.

There is only an academical interest now in pointing out the rôle that the personality of Count Andrassy and his reputed Magyar sentiments played in all these transactions, and it is not necessary to interrupt the course of this narrative by dwelling on them.

After the Andrassy Memorandum had prepared the Cabinets of Europe for some sort of diplomatic interference in the affairs of Turkey, and familiarised them with the idea, the natural course of events in the Turkish Empire did the rest. The ball set going at Vienna was taken up at Berlin. The comparatively colourless diplomatic Memorandum concocted in the first‐named capital was followed by a far more coercive Note emanating from the latter. The former contained recommendations, the latter added external sanctions to them. The policy intended to be pursued with reference to Turkey was contained in germ in this remarkable “Note,” and the diplomatic strategy to be employed was herein clearly revealed. The “Conference,” which was to impose the conditions and insist on the sanction, was already on the tapis, and formed the subject of an interchange of views between the various European governments; and it was, as it were, under the shadow of this menace to the integrity and independence of the country that the friends of Midhat now hastened their deliberations.

As early as the winter of 1875, Midhat, with a view of profiting by the lights, and seeking the advice of the eminent diplomatist who represented the Court of St James at Constantinople, paid a visit to Sir Henry Elliot, the purpose of which can best be described in the words of the Ambassador himself.10

The first of the many incidents that soon after this conversation began to follow each other closely, took place on the 10th May 1876, when an assemblage of several thousand Softas stopped Prince Izzeddine, the Sultan’s eldest son, on his way to the Seraskierat (Ministry of War), desiring him to return to the Palace, and to inform the Sultan that they demanded the dismissal of Mahmoud Nedim, the Grand Vizier and of Hassan Fehmi Effendi, the Sheik‐ul‐Islam. The Sultan did not venture to reject the demand. Mahmoud and Hassan Fehmi were dismissed, the latter being replaced by Hassan Hairullah Effendi, who enjoyed a high and exceptional reputation for learning and enlightenment. Mehemet Rushdi Pasha, an old man universally respected, was named Grand Vizier; and as he insisted on Midhat joining his Cabinet (although holding no specific office), it was believed that he would be the guiding spirit, and general satisfaction was felt. Sir Henry Elliot proceeds to say:

The two moving spirits in the deposition of Sultan Abdul Aziz were undoubtedly Midhat Pasha and Hussein Avni Pasha, the Minister of War (seraskier). The latter, a thorough soldier and a sterling patriot, distinguished for the great energy and decision of his character as well as the impetuosity of his temper, had occupied the highest military posts in the country, and had been repeatedly exiled from Constantinople by the Sultan. He was particularly feared and disliked by Mahmoud Nedim, who had procured his banishment each time that he had been made Grand Vizier. Although not sharing all Midhat’s constitutional views and professing more confidence in the efficacy of the sword than in the saving grace of popular institutions, he had lent a willing and energetic support to his colleague’s views as to the indisputable necessity of deposing the Sultan as a preliminary to any attempted amelioration in the condition of the State.

As soon as the final resolution of Ministers was arrived at, and before any commencement of execution could be given to it, it was indispensable to obtain a Fetva (authoritative decree) of the Sheik‐ul‐Islam, Hassan Hairullah, the highest authority and mouthpiece of the Sacred Law, in order to give legal validity to the act of deposition. Accordingly the following Fetva was issued for the deposition:—

Armed with this Fetva, Ministers decided on the immediate execution of their plans, the details of which, it was agreed, should be left to the Grand Vizier, to Midhat, and to the Minister of War.

There was a slight divergence of views between Midhat and the Seraskier with reference to the form of procedure which should accompany the deposition. Hussein Avni inclined to a simple military pronunciamento, whereas Midhat wished to give the consecration of popular sanction to the act. For this purpose he proposed that the Softas and the population of Stamboul should be convoked en masse to the Noure‐Osmanieh Mosque, where they should set forth the griefs of the nation and demand a change of régime; and that on this demand being refused or ignored, they should proceed at once to the execution of the decree of deposition. The majority of Ministers inclined to this latter method of proceeding; but a circumstance occurred which necessitated a change of plans and determined the abandonment of the proposal for a popular demonstration.

The 31st May was chosen for the execution of the plan agreed upon. On the eve of that day information reached Midhat from a woman of the Palace that the Sultan had had wind of the affair, and that the whole plot was about to be discovered. This was corroborated by the fact that twice that same day Hussein Avni had been peremptorily summoned to the Palace, although on the first summons he had pleaded illness as a reason for disregarding it.

It was decided thereupon by the Ministers to anticipate the hour fixed upon, and to proceed at once with the execution of their design.

At midnight accordingly, of the 30th of May, Mehemet Rushdi and Midhat, accompanied each by a single attendant carrying a lamp, proceeded to Sirkedji to embark on a caïque11 for Pachalimani on the Bosphorus, the residence of Hussein Avni. It was a pitch‐dark night with rain falling in torrents, and it was with some difficulty that they reached the place of rendezvous. Here they found Hussein Avni anxiously waiting for them, and after a hurried interview in which the final dispositions were made, they separated to their respective posts. Hussein Avni started for the palace of Dolma‐Bagtche, whilst Rushdi and Midhat proceeded to the Seraskierat.

It had been decided that the Ministers and high civil and military dignitaries should assemble at the War Office and await the arrival of Prince Murad, whom Hussein Avni had undertaken to conduct there in person; and that as soon as he should arrive, the proclamation and investiture of the Prince as the new Sultan should take place. It was further arranged that immediately on the arrival of the Prince a bonfire should be lit on the tower of the Seraskierat, as a signal to the fleet of what was taking place, and thereupon a Royal salute should be fired by Kaisserli Ahmed’s ironclads, to announce to the whole city the commencement of a new reign.

Hussein Avni, proceeding in the direction of the Palace, was, according to preconcerted arrangement, met by Suleiman Pasha, to whom the delicate task of executing the measures necessary to be taken at the Palace had been entrusted.

Suleiman Pasha, marshal in the army and director‐in‐chief of the school of military cadets at Pancaldi, the trusted lieutenant and right‐hand man of Hussein Avni, himself a strong partisan of Midhat Pasha and the young hope of the Reform Party, was the very man to carry out an operation requiring careful preparation and unflinching resolution for its successful execution.

The troops in the barracks of Tash‐Kishla and Kumuch‐Suyou had already received their orders from Redif Pasha, the commander of the corps d’armée of Constantinople, and had been so posted as to blockade all approaches by land. The fleet of ironclads under the personal command of Kaiseli Ahmed, the captain Pasha, had taken the same precautions by sea, so that nothing remained but to disarm the sentinels and corps de garde along the immediate approaches to the Palace. Suleiman, taking with him a selected body of military students from Pancaldi, under the command of Ahmed Bey (colonel) and Bedry and Rifat Beys (captains), after successfully performing, without disturbance but not without some opposition, the delicate operation of disarmament, hastened to the apartments of Prince Murad. Although the Prince had been made aware of the intentions of the Ministers, and had acquiesced in their general arrangements, it had been found impossible to acquaint him with the change of date resolved upon. He, therefore, fearing some surprise or treachery, hesitated for some time before he could be induced to comply with Suleiman’s urgent request that he should immediately join Hussein Avni, who was waiting for him in a carriage at the gates of the Palace to drive him to the Seraskierat, where his proclamation and investiture as the new sovereign were to take place. At one moment it looked as if the solemn drama about to be enacted would have to be played out with the part of the “Prince of Denmark” omitted.

Having surmounted this unexpected difficulty and despatched Murad on his way to the Seraskierat, Suleiman proceeded to discharge the second and more distasteful part of the mandate confided to him. Making his way to the Imperial apartments, and overcoming the hesitation of the attendants by presenting an order signed by all the Ministers, he peremptorily demanded to be immediately led into the presence of the Sultan. The demand being at last complied with, he proceeded to communicate to Abdul Aziz the justification of his intrusion, and read to him the fetva of the deposition. Whilst the Sultan and Suleiman were engaged in parleying, the big guns of Ahmed’s ironclads were heard booming in the distance. Abdul Aziz at once took in the import of the firing, and from that moment yielded to the inevitable. He prepared to comply with the order communicated to him to quit the Palace of Dolma‐Bagtche for that of Top‐Kapou, which had been assigned as a residence for him.

The new Sultan confirmed all his Ministers in their posts, addressing the following letter to the Porte:—

To my Grand Vizier and very patriotic Mehemet Rushdi Pasha—