CHAPTER XI.One lives and learns even from Turks—The Mudir's two sons—They like your nation—They remember the Crimean War—Suleiman Effendi—The Vice-Consul—The town of Angora to be illuminated—The telegram about the Constitution—What does the Constitution mean?—Suleiman Effendi on education, and on religious matters—So many roads to heaven—American missionaries—The massacres in Bulgaria—The intrigues of Russia—The Circassians hate the Russians—Circassian women butchered and ravished by the Russians—An English priest—The impalement story—The Vice-Consul's wife—A piano in Angora—Turkish ladies—A visit to the Pacha—The audience-room—The Pacha's son—Only one cannon in Angora—Twenty-five thousand men gone to the war—The clerk—The Bey's library—The new Constitution—The Bey's opinion about it—Turkey requires roads and railways—The only carriage in Angora."Well, how is the animal's back?" I inquired of Radford, when he awoke me the next morning."I can't make it out, sir. I took the saddle off, and our horse ain't touched at all. Osman came in when I was a looking at him. Helaughed and said 'Eyi' (good), and I said 'Eyi' too. But, sir, it is a wonder to me that the horse ain't got an awful back.""How are you getting on with your Turkish?" I inquired."Capital, sir; I often have a talk with Osman, though I can't say as how we understand each other much. The fellow, he knows more about horses than I thought he did; one lives and learns, even from Turks."We were escorted out of Istanos[8]by the Mudir and his two sons, lads of from twelve to fifteen, who had got up at daybreak to speed the Frank on his way. The Armenian priest also came to the door. In spite of the early hour, a great many inhabitants had assembled on the house-tops to have a look at the Englishman and his party."They like your nation," said the Mudir, as the people saluted us."Why so?""They remember the Crimean war, and think that you have come to help us against the Russians.""I wish I had," was my answer; "but I am here only as a 'traveller.'"We retraced our steps along the route of the previous day, marching for some time by the bank of the river. Presently I came to a well-built stone bridge. It spans the stream, which is here about forty yards wide, besides being very rapid and deep. Soon afterwards the path traversed a spacious plain, formerly the battle field of Tamerlane. At one end of this plain, and on a hill, or rather ridge of hills, is Angora. Its ruined battlements and lofty minarets stand out conspicuously. The town itself lies rather in the background and on a slope. A Zaptieh met us as we were entering a narrow street, and said that a Turkish gentleman had sent him to escort me to his house.On we rode, through many dirty lanes, until I finally entered a wide yard. This court was overlooked by a large and handsome building."Suleiman Effendi lives here," said the Zaptieh.The gentleman to whom he alluded now appeared descending some stone steps which gave access to the courtyard. He approached us, and aided me to dismount; then, taking my hand, he led me into a large room furnished with chairs, as well as with a divan, and carpeted with rich Persian rugs. Advancing to the place of honour, in the centre of the divan, he asked me to beseated, and sat down by my side. Several of his friends being accommodated on the floor.Suleiman Effendi was dressed in European fashion, with the exception of his fez. He had a very fair knowledge of Arabic; I soon found that he was well posted in European politics."I heard that an Englishman was on his way to Angora," he said, "and determined that you should be my guest. We received the news about you from Ismid.""Are there any other Englishmen here?" I inquired."Only one—the Vice-Consul, a merchant: but I will send and let him know that you have arrived. In the meantime have a glass of raki." Proceeding to a cabinet in the wall, Suleiman carefully unlocked it, and produced a decanter with some glasses."Thanks, I do not drink spirits.""No more do I," replied Suleiman, laughing; "only medicinally, you know;" and he drank off a bumper.In a few minutes the English Vice-Consul arrived. He was dressed in his official uniform, and was accompanied by a young Bulgarian, who was a merchant in the same business as himself.Mr. —— was very surprised to see an Englishmanin Angora, no one of our nation having visited that town for several years past; and he informed me that a telegram had just been received from Constantinople with reference to the proclamation of a Constitution. In consequence of this the town of Angora was to be illuminated on the following evening; cannon would be fired, and the Pacha would read the telegram to the populace in the courtyard of the palace."What does it—the Constitution—mean?" I inquired."Mean?" replied the Bulgarian, who spoke English perfectly; "it means a quantity of promises which the Government will never fulfil.""It probably means a Parliament in Constantinople," said the Consul; "but we have no particulars as yet." And, making an appointment for me to call upon him in the morning, he left the room, accompanied by the Bulgarian.I was very much surprised at this intelligence. A Parliament in Constantinople! How would the members be chosen? and who would choose them? If universal suffrage prevailed, only one in about every 300 of the electors would be able to read or write; all of them would be ignorant of everything beyond the interests of their immediate neighbourhood."Is a Parliament possible here?" I inquired of my host."It is possible in theory, but impossible in practice,"[9]was the reply. "We require more liberty, but this must be a question of time. We must educate the people, and teach both the Christians and Mohammedans that a difference of opinion on religious matters is not a subject about which men should quarrel. Religion has been the cause of more wars than anything else in history.""I tell you what it is," he continued, "I believe that in another hundred years there will be either no religion at all, or else that every religion will be merged into one creed.""The Christian," I observed."Who knows?" continued my host. "We live in strange times; even we Turks, the more particularly those who live in Constantinople, begin to argue about such matters. However, there is one thing I cannot understand about you Christians—you appear to me to have so many roads to heaven. For instance, in Anatolia there are American Protestant missionaries,Italian Catholic missionaries, and then there are the Armenians, who profess the Armenian faith.""Well," I remarked, "what of it?""Wait a moment," said my host. "An Armenian, who is of the Armenian faith, is half-way up his staircase to heaven. An American missionary calls after him, 'Where are you going?' 'I am going to heaven.' 'No you are not; that is not the road to heaven. You are going in the wrong direction. Come down immediately, and I will show you the way.' The Armenian descends the steps, and begins ascending the road the missionary points out to him. Presently another voice is heard. It comes from the mouth of an Italian missionary. 'Where are you going?' 'I am going to heaven.' 'No you are not; come down immediately. You are on the road to hell.'""The result is," continued Suleiman, "that the poor Armenian does not know which way to turn. He is perpetually going up, or coming down the steps, and he never reaches his destination.""Stop," I said, "you Mohammedans are also split up into sects. There are the Sunnites and the Shiites, and you both hate each other.""Alas! it is true," replied my companion, "but if we have two sects, you, according to what Ihave read, number at least a hundred, and the members of many of the sects think that every one else besides themselves must be damned. A very charitable doctrine that, is it not?" he added."Who was the Bulgarian with our Vice-Consul?" I inquired."He is in business with the Vice-Consul, and, I am sorry to say, does not love us Turks.""Why?""Because his brother was one of the victims in the late Bulgarian rebellion.""People in England blame us for the massacres," continued Suleiman. "What could we do? Our regular troops were employed elsewhere. This was owing to the intrigues of Russia; we were obliged to employ Circassians. The Circassians hate the Russians, and indeed they have reason to hate them. Those whose own mothers and sisters have been ravished and butchered, cannot be expected to love their oppressors. The Circassians looked upon the Bulgarians as Russians, hence the bloodshed. A few days ago I read an extract from an English paper, which had been translated into Turkish. It was to the effect that an English priest had seen people impaled by our Bashi Bazouks. Have you heard of this?""Yes, but the story has been contradicted.""It is a pity when Christian priests or Mohammedan Imaums mix themselves up in politics," remarked another Turk; "their place is to calm men's passions, not to rouse them."They left me; my host having previously asked at what time I should like to dine, with the observation that his hour was mine. Three servants were also placed at my disposal, with orders to supply me with anything I might require.The following morning I called upon the Vice-Consul, and found him at home with his wife—a delicate-looking lady, who had braved all the hardships of the journey from Ismid in order to be at her husband's side.Their house was furnished with every English comfort. It was difficult to believe that we were so many days from a railroad."That piano cost us a great deal of trouble," said the Vice-Consul. "It was brought here in two parts, and on mules.""It is wonderful how it could have survived the journey," said the lady. Going to the instrument, she sounded the notes, which were very fairly in tune. "The Turkish ladies are so astonished with the piano," she continued. "They will sit for hours and listen to me playing."I now started with the Consul to pay a visit to the Pacha. We arrived in a large courtyard, which was badly paved with loose stones. At one end there were some steps which led to the official residence. The courtyard was thronged with people who had been summoned to hear the telegram read about the new Constitution; men in uniform, beggars, people with petitions in their hands, all swearing and jostling each other, as my companion and myself with difficulty made our way up the stairs. We were at once admitted into the audience-room. I found the Pacha, a tall, good-looking man of middle age, engaged in placing his seal upon a number of documents which an official was handing to him. He received us courteously, and proposed that we should accompany him to the court below, and listen to the proclamation of the Sultan's telegram.The Pacha then introduced me to his son, a young man about twenty; he spoke French fluently and without any perceptible accent, having been educated by a French tutor."We have only one cannon in Angora," he remarked, "and it is to be fired 101 times. We are a little afraid that it may not be able to stand the ordeal.""Yes," said his father, "we have only onecannon, but we have sent 25,000 men to the war. We do not require any cannons," he added. "Our own people are quiet enough. The Russians will not find it a very easy matter to reach Angora."We descended the steps; on reaching the courtyard, the clerk—a wonderful old gentleman in a green dressing-gown, and with a wheezy voice—called for silence.The Pacha then announced that the Sultan had been pleased to grant more liberties to his people, and that the present autocratic form of government was to be replaced by a Constitution. The Imaum, or priest, here said "Amin," equivalent to our Amen; and the Vice-Consul put on his cap with the gilt peak, which he had taken off during the ceremony.The Pacha's son now invited me to visit his rooms, which were a suite of apartments separate from those occupied by his father. I found his book-shelves well stored with scientific French works, and, to my surprise, discovered that the young Bey was not only remarkably well educated for a Turk, but was much better informed than nine Englishmen out of ten who have been to a public school, and have taken their degree at the university."Well, what do you think will be the result of the new Constitution?" I inquired."We are what you would call in England a very conservative nation. This sudden change has almost taken away our breath. We have not yet received the document which contains all the clauses of the new Constitution, and only know of them by telegram; if we are to attempt a form of Government such as you have in England, in my opinion we shall fail.""Why so?" I asked."Because not only the electing class, but the men who will probably be chosen to sit in Parliament are only half educated. We shall have ignorant legislators legislating for an equally ignorant nation. We want time," he continued; "we require roads and railways. If there were means of communication, the people would travel and see that there is a good deal to be learnt away from home, and even from you Christians. Give us roads and railways, they will be worth fifty Constitutions, for the latter, in my opinion, will soon be found impracticable.""It will never be carried out," said the Vice-Consul, who was sitting next to him. "It has been drawn up merely as a sop for the plenipotentiaries at the Conference.""Well, whatever they do in other places," said the Bey, "we shall carry it out in its integrity here."As he said these words the boom of the cannon resounded from below, the windows of the room began to rattle, the sound of a mob cheering, rapidly followed the report."A great deal of noise and a great deal of smoke:voilà la Constitution, " said the Consul, and he prepared to leave the room."Stop," said the Bey, "you must not walk, I will send my carriage with you. It is almost the only carriage in Angora," he added, "and I have a compatriot of yours as a coachman; he has been with me three years."
One lives and learns even from Turks—The Mudir's two sons—They like your nation—They remember the Crimean War—Suleiman Effendi—The Vice-Consul—The town of Angora to be illuminated—The telegram about the Constitution—What does the Constitution mean?—Suleiman Effendi on education, and on religious matters—So many roads to heaven—American missionaries—The massacres in Bulgaria—The intrigues of Russia—The Circassians hate the Russians—Circassian women butchered and ravished by the Russians—An English priest—The impalement story—The Vice-Consul's wife—A piano in Angora—Turkish ladies—A visit to the Pacha—The audience-room—The Pacha's son—Only one cannon in Angora—Twenty-five thousand men gone to the war—The clerk—The Bey's library—The new Constitution—The Bey's opinion about it—Turkey requires roads and railways—The only carriage in Angora.
"Well, how is the animal's back?" I inquired of Radford, when he awoke me the next morning.
"I can't make it out, sir. I took the saddle off, and our horse ain't touched at all. Osman came in when I was a looking at him. Helaughed and said 'Eyi' (good), and I said 'Eyi' too. But, sir, it is a wonder to me that the horse ain't got an awful back."
"How are you getting on with your Turkish?" I inquired.
"Capital, sir; I often have a talk with Osman, though I can't say as how we understand each other much. The fellow, he knows more about horses than I thought he did; one lives and learns, even from Turks."
We were escorted out of Istanos[8]by the Mudir and his two sons, lads of from twelve to fifteen, who had got up at daybreak to speed the Frank on his way. The Armenian priest also came to the door. In spite of the early hour, a great many inhabitants had assembled on the house-tops to have a look at the Englishman and his party.
"They like your nation," said the Mudir, as the people saluted us.
"Why so?"
"They remember the Crimean war, and think that you have come to help us against the Russians."
"I wish I had," was my answer; "but I am here only as a 'traveller.'"
We retraced our steps along the route of the previous day, marching for some time by the bank of the river. Presently I came to a well-built stone bridge. It spans the stream, which is here about forty yards wide, besides being very rapid and deep. Soon afterwards the path traversed a spacious plain, formerly the battle field of Tamerlane. At one end of this plain, and on a hill, or rather ridge of hills, is Angora. Its ruined battlements and lofty minarets stand out conspicuously. The town itself lies rather in the background and on a slope. A Zaptieh met us as we were entering a narrow street, and said that a Turkish gentleman had sent him to escort me to his house.
On we rode, through many dirty lanes, until I finally entered a wide yard. This court was overlooked by a large and handsome building.
"Suleiman Effendi lives here," said the Zaptieh.
The gentleman to whom he alluded now appeared descending some stone steps which gave access to the courtyard. He approached us, and aided me to dismount; then, taking my hand, he led me into a large room furnished with chairs, as well as with a divan, and carpeted with rich Persian rugs. Advancing to the place of honour, in the centre of the divan, he asked me to beseated, and sat down by my side. Several of his friends being accommodated on the floor.
Suleiman Effendi was dressed in European fashion, with the exception of his fez. He had a very fair knowledge of Arabic; I soon found that he was well posted in European politics.
"I heard that an Englishman was on his way to Angora," he said, "and determined that you should be my guest. We received the news about you from Ismid."
"Are there any other Englishmen here?" I inquired.
"Only one—the Vice-Consul, a merchant: but I will send and let him know that you have arrived. In the meantime have a glass of raki." Proceeding to a cabinet in the wall, Suleiman carefully unlocked it, and produced a decanter with some glasses.
"Thanks, I do not drink spirits."
"No more do I," replied Suleiman, laughing; "only medicinally, you know;" and he drank off a bumper.
In a few minutes the English Vice-Consul arrived. He was dressed in his official uniform, and was accompanied by a young Bulgarian, who was a merchant in the same business as himself.
Mr. —— was very surprised to see an Englishmanin Angora, no one of our nation having visited that town for several years past; and he informed me that a telegram had just been received from Constantinople with reference to the proclamation of a Constitution. In consequence of this the town of Angora was to be illuminated on the following evening; cannon would be fired, and the Pacha would read the telegram to the populace in the courtyard of the palace.
"What does it—the Constitution—mean?" I inquired.
"Mean?" replied the Bulgarian, who spoke English perfectly; "it means a quantity of promises which the Government will never fulfil."
"It probably means a Parliament in Constantinople," said the Consul; "but we have no particulars as yet." And, making an appointment for me to call upon him in the morning, he left the room, accompanied by the Bulgarian.
I was very much surprised at this intelligence. A Parliament in Constantinople! How would the members be chosen? and who would choose them? If universal suffrage prevailed, only one in about every 300 of the electors would be able to read or write; all of them would be ignorant of everything beyond the interests of their immediate neighbourhood.
"Is a Parliament possible here?" I inquired of my host.
"It is possible in theory, but impossible in practice,"[9]was the reply. "We require more liberty, but this must be a question of time. We must educate the people, and teach both the Christians and Mohammedans that a difference of opinion on religious matters is not a subject about which men should quarrel. Religion has been the cause of more wars than anything else in history."
"I tell you what it is," he continued, "I believe that in another hundred years there will be either no religion at all, or else that every religion will be merged into one creed."
"The Christian," I observed.
"Who knows?" continued my host. "We live in strange times; even we Turks, the more particularly those who live in Constantinople, begin to argue about such matters. However, there is one thing I cannot understand about you Christians—you appear to me to have so many roads to heaven. For instance, in Anatolia there are American Protestant missionaries,Italian Catholic missionaries, and then there are the Armenians, who profess the Armenian faith."
"Well," I remarked, "what of it?"
"Wait a moment," said my host. "An Armenian, who is of the Armenian faith, is half-way up his staircase to heaven. An American missionary calls after him, 'Where are you going?' 'I am going to heaven.' 'No you are not; that is not the road to heaven. You are going in the wrong direction. Come down immediately, and I will show you the way.' The Armenian descends the steps, and begins ascending the road the missionary points out to him. Presently another voice is heard. It comes from the mouth of an Italian missionary. 'Where are you going?' 'I am going to heaven.' 'No you are not; come down immediately. You are on the road to hell.'"
"The result is," continued Suleiman, "that the poor Armenian does not know which way to turn. He is perpetually going up, or coming down the steps, and he never reaches his destination."
"Stop," I said, "you Mohammedans are also split up into sects. There are the Sunnites and the Shiites, and you both hate each other."
"Alas! it is true," replied my companion, "but if we have two sects, you, according to what Ihave read, number at least a hundred, and the members of many of the sects think that every one else besides themselves must be damned. A very charitable doctrine that, is it not?" he added.
"Who was the Bulgarian with our Vice-Consul?" I inquired.
"He is in business with the Vice-Consul, and, I am sorry to say, does not love us Turks."
"Why?"
"Because his brother was one of the victims in the late Bulgarian rebellion."
"People in England blame us for the massacres," continued Suleiman. "What could we do? Our regular troops were employed elsewhere. This was owing to the intrigues of Russia; we were obliged to employ Circassians. The Circassians hate the Russians, and indeed they have reason to hate them. Those whose own mothers and sisters have been ravished and butchered, cannot be expected to love their oppressors. The Circassians looked upon the Bulgarians as Russians, hence the bloodshed. A few days ago I read an extract from an English paper, which had been translated into Turkish. It was to the effect that an English priest had seen people impaled by our Bashi Bazouks. Have you heard of this?"
"Yes, but the story has been contradicted."
"It is a pity when Christian priests or Mohammedan Imaums mix themselves up in politics," remarked another Turk; "their place is to calm men's passions, not to rouse them."
They left me; my host having previously asked at what time I should like to dine, with the observation that his hour was mine. Three servants were also placed at my disposal, with orders to supply me with anything I might require.
The following morning I called upon the Vice-Consul, and found him at home with his wife—a delicate-looking lady, who had braved all the hardships of the journey from Ismid in order to be at her husband's side.
Their house was furnished with every English comfort. It was difficult to believe that we were so many days from a railroad.
"That piano cost us a great deal of trouble," said the Vice-Consul. "It was brought here in two parts, and on mules."
"It is wonderful how it could have survived the journey," said the lady. Going to the instrument, she sounded the notes, which were very fairly in tune. "The Turkish ladies are so astonished with the piano," she continued. "They will sit for hours and listen to me playing."
I now started with the Consul to pay a visit to the Pacha. We arrived in a large courtyard, which was badly paved with loose stones. At one end there were some steps which led to the official residence. The courtyard was thronged with people who had been summoned to hear the telegram read about the new Constitution; men in uniform, beggars, people with petitions in their hands, all swearing and jostling each other, as my companion and myself with difficulty made our way up the stairs. We were at once admitted into the audience-room. I found the Pacha, a tall, good-looking man of middle age, engaged in placing his seal upon a number of documents which an official was handing to him. He received us courteously, and proposed that we should accompany him to the court below, and listen to the proclamation of the Sultan's telegram.
The Pacha then introduced me to his son, a young man about twenty; he spoke French fluently and without any perceptible accent, having been educated by a French tutor.
"We have only one cannon in Angora," he remarked, "and it is to be fired 101 times. We are a little afraid that it may not be able to stand the ordeal."
"Yes," said his father, "we have only onecannon, but we have sent 25,000 men to the war. We do not require any cannons," he added. "Our own people are quiet enough. The Russians will not find it a very easy matter to reach Angora."
We descended the steps; on reaching the courtyard, the clerk—a wonderful old gentleman in a green dressing-gown, and with a wheezy voice—called for silence.
The Pacha then announced that the Sultan had been pleased to grant more liberties to his people, and that the present autocratic form of government was to be replaced by a Constitution. The Imaum, or priest, here said "Amin," equivalent to our Amen; and the Vice-Consul put on his cap with the gilt peak, which he had taken off during the ceremony.
The Pacha's son now invited me to visit his rooms, which were a suite of apartments separate from those occupied by his father. I found his book-shelves well stored with scientific French works, and, to my surprise, discovered that the young Bey was not only remarkably well educated for a Turk, but was much better informed than nine Englishmen out of ten who have been to a public school, and have taken their degree at the university.
"Well, what do you think will be the result of the new Constitution?" I inquired.
"We are what you would call in England a very conservative nation. This sudden change has almost taken away our breath. We have not yet received the document which contains all the clauses of the new Constitution, and only know of them by telegram; if we are to attempt a form of Government such as you have in England, in my opinion we shall fail."
"Why so?" I asked.
"Because not only the electing class, but the men who will probably be chosen to sit in Parliament are only half educated. We shall have ignorant legislators legislating for an equally ignorant nation. We want time," he continued; "we require roads and railways. If there were means of communication, the people would travel and see that there is a good deal to be learnt away from home, and even from you Christians. Give us roads and railways, they will be worth fifty Constitutions, for the latter, in my opinion, will soon be found impracticable."
"It will never be carried out," said the Vice-Consul, who was sitting next to him. "It has been drawn up merely as a sop for the plenipotentiaries at the Conference."
"Well, whatever they do in other places," said the Bey, "we shall carry it out in its integrity here."
As he said these words the boom of the cannon resounded from below, the windows of the room began to rattle, the sound of a mob cheering, rapidly followed the report.
"A great deal of noise and a great deal of smoke:voilà la Constitution, " said the Consul, and he prepared to leave the room.
"Stop," said the Bey, "you must not walk, I will send my carriage with you. It is almost the only carriage in Angora," he added, "and I have a compatriot of yours as a coachman; he has been with me three years."