Chapter V: The Veiled Protectorate

Our winter in Egypt of that year, 1892-93, turned out to be full of incident. I found on arriving there, that the trouble I had foreseen between the new Khedive Abbas and Sir Evelyn Baring would speedily come to a head if no attempt were made to carry out Lord Dufferin’s promises to the Egyptians of restoring to them their National Government under a constitutional form, and a definite policy adopted for preparing the country for evacuation. Owing to the pre-occupation of our Liberal party in England with the affairs of Ireland and other home politics, the question of Egypt had been allowed to stand over and nothing had been done. Lord Rosebery at the Foreign Office had been left to act, or not to act, as he pleased, and he in turn had left the decision of a policy to Baring, whose idea of Egyptian Government was to retain all power in his own hands, while acting in the Khedive’s name.

It was the famous policy of “the Veiled Protectorate,” the successful carrying out of which needed two essential conditions, first, that the Khedive should be a consenting party to the make-believe, and, secondly, that its true nature should be concealed from the general Egyptian public. The Khedive was expected to name his own ministers, but the choice of them was to be privately dictated to him by the British Agent. The Government officials were to wear the Ottoman Fez, but the more important of them were to be Englishmen. These were to give advice, not orders, but the advice was always to be obeyed. It was an ingenious plan, adopted from the Government of British India, in its dealing with the native states, while a third condition was equally indispensable, that was the presence behind the British Agent of a sufficient armed force to give emphasis to his advice and enforce his will, the Army of Occupation.

Although not a year had yet passed since Abbas’ succession to the Khedivial dignity, he had already rebelled against the position of a mere puppet, and had managed to gather about him the nucleus of a new National party, which consisted of what elements there were in Egypt either of discontent or of such patriotism as was to be found in the country, half political, half religious, which resented the presence of foreign and Christian rule. The Khedive had been greatly aided in this by the publication of Sir Alfred Milner’s book, “England in Egypt,” which I have described already. It had appeared about the time of the change of Government in England, and had proved an entire success there as a support to Baring’s views, but at Cairo it had had an exactly opposite effect. It had too candidly revealed the nature of the Baring policy, unveiling to nakedness the “Veiled Protectorate,” and as it had been largely read in an Arabic translation at Cairo, it had caused more alarm than satisfaction there. By the end of the year 1892 the young Khedive was already popular with his native subjects, while even among Englishmen resident at Cairo it was considered that Baring had mismanaged the matter, and there was alarm at the growing ill will that was being manifested between natives and foreigners. There is no doubt that Baring had been at fault through his lack of personal courtesy to the young prince, who, having received his education in Europe, was well aware of what was due to him, and had sufficient wit to know how to assert himself on occasion. These things are alluded to in my diary.

“_1st Dec._—Landed at Alexandria and lunched at the Consulate, where the Consular chaplain, Davis, gave me some idea of how things were going politically. We had some talk about former Egyptian times, he having been thirty years resident there. What he said bears out what my Egyptian friends have always affirmed, namely, that Said Pasha’s reign was the best time the fellahin ever had; he is, however, like all Englishmen here, for a perpetual occupation in order, as they say, ‘to keep out the French.’ The ladies told stories of the new Khedive Abbas to his disadvantage. He dislikes English soldiers and has made them move farther away from his palace, and he insists upon having his own will in trifles, as on one occasion lately when he made the gate-keepers of the railway open for him, and had forced the Directors to apologize and dismiss the men because, not knowing who he was, they had cursed his father. This happened near Ramleh. We had tea with Sir William and Lady Butler, he being in command of the English garrison. We went on to Sheykh Obeyd next morning.

“_26th Dec._—To-day, a young fellow, Abderrahman Effendi, was here, a protégé of Abdu’s. Talking of Abbas, he told me he was hand in glove with Riaz and Ahmed Pasha Shukri, and that they all belonged to the Hesb el Horiyeh (the Party of Liberty). I told him that if they really wanted Parliamentary Government they must work for it. The Khedive ought to make known his desire for it. He should demand it formally in writing, and I would see that their wishes were represented in the proper quarter. Writing to Loulou Harcourt about the same time, intending it for his father, I said: ‘I should be glad to know what is intended at the Foreign Office. I consider that there are elements here of a stronger opposition to the English _régime_ than was the case under Tewfik. For the present the Khedive is young and Cromer plays with him as with a young bear, humouring him in small matters and excluding him from all real power, and the young man amuses himself after the manner of his age, but he is certainly strongly anti-English.’

“I understand that the Khedive is in accord with the Constitutional party here. If so there will be less difficulty than last year in carrying out Lord Dufferin’s programme. I really cannot understand how the Liberal party in England can with any face refuse to do this. It is the only possible chance of setting the Egyptians on their own legs.

“_31st Dec._—I have been taken up for the last forty-eight hours with reading Milner’s book about Egypt which is just out. It is by far the ablest defence I have seen of Cromer’s policy, and may be considered as his own apologia, for most of it must have been taken down from his dictation or at any rate in concert with him; even in form and arrangement of subjects. It is identical with Cromer’s report of 1891. There is a great deal of truth in it and also a great deal of the suppression of truth.

“_16th Jan._ 1893.—Went to Cairo, the first time this winter, on business with Scott (then at the Ministry of Justice). I found everybody there in a great turmoil, as the Khedive has just dismissed Mustapha Pasha Fehmi and other Ministers from their posts, and has appointed new ones, with Fakhri Pasha as President of the Council, without Baring’s cognizance. Scott said it was a _coup d’état_, and so it seems to be.

“_18th Jan._—Baring has refused to recognize the new Ministry until he has communicated with the English Government. He has given the Khedive time to reflect, and the Khedive, finding himself insufficiently backed up by the French, has already given in and a compromise has been come to, Fakhri being replaced by Riaz.

“_20th Jan._—Ismaïl Jowdat[5] has been here and has told me the whole story of the intrigue of the last few days, though it dates in its beginning from much earlier. It is one of those complicated episodes which make up Egyptian history.

“Abbas, Jowdat says, arriving from Europe a year ago with European notions, readily fell in at first with Baring’s plans. He took up the quarrel with Constantinople Baring led him into, about his firman of appointment, and for a while was on bad terms with the Sultan. Mukhtar Pasha, however, and de Reverseaux, the French Consul-General, have managed latterly to bring him round into opposition, and he has made up with the Sultan and is strongly anti-English. They have managed this with the help of the young Sheykh el Bekri, who was brought up with Abbas and has great influence with him. This young man was at first, like Abbas, under Baring’s influence, and Baring sent him to England last summer and introduced him to Gladstone and others, boasting that the Egyptians were becoming English in their sentiments. The young man is of importance from his religious position, which is hereditary. On his way home, however, he passed through Constantinople and there fell under the contrary influence of the Sultan, who gave him high orders and decorations, and of Prince Halim Pasha, whose daughter it has been arranged he shall marry. He returned to Egypt last autumn altogether in the Sultan’s interest, and has since received from Mukhtar Pasha a pension of £300 a month out of the Sultan’s privy purse. Abbas, disapproving of his visit to Constantinople, refused to see him on his return. Nevertheless, a reconciliation was effected through the mediation of the Khedive’s mother, urged thereto by a certain religious Sheykh of Alexandria, entitled Sheykh Tekkiet Gulshani, who desiring to have his title confirmed on his son, which could only be done through the Sheykh el Bekri’s firman, interceded on his behalf. The Khedive’s mother was this old Sheykh’s adopted daughter (god-daughter) and hence his influence. El Bekri then called on the Khedive and was well received, and has since influenced him in favour of the Sultan’s policy. Mukhtar and Reverseaux planned between them with Riaz this sudden _coup d’état_ which has just taken place, Bekri having got the Khedive to join it. It was Riaz’s suggestion putting Fekri forward, and it has ended as planned in his own substitution as Minister. The following are the chief personages concerned in the plot: Mukhtar Pasha, the Sultan’s representative, with his Turkish secretary Mohsin Bey, Abd el Salaam Pasha Moelhi, Ibrahim Moelhi and his son Mohammed, Prince Hussein, the Sheykh el Bekri, the Sheykh Gulshani, Mohammed Bey Zoghli and his brother, Rushti Bey, Yussuf Sadyk, son of the old Muffettish, Ahmed Bey el Kharmili, and Ahmed Bey Sofani, of the Legislative Council, Mazlum Pasha, master of ceremonies, Tigrane Pasha, Zekki Pasha, and others. They have made up their ministry thus: Riaz Pasha, Mazlum Pasha, Boutros Pasha Ghali, Tigrane, and Zekki Pasha.

“Later in the day Fenwick Pasha called upon me. He regretted that Lord Cromer had not gained a more certain victory in the crisis. ‘Cromer,’ he said, ‘had offered Mustafa Fehmi to back him if he would remain in office, but Mustafa declined, probably afraid.’ The immediate causes of the _coup d’état_ were first the publication at Cairo of Milner’s book, and second the order issued by Coles Pasha (the English adviser of the Ministry of the Interior) to the Mudirs in his own name instead of that of the Egyptian Minister.

“I have written to Labouchere and to Sir William Harcourt.”

This was the Khedive Abbas’ first revolt against Cromer. The ground of the revolt was not ill-chosen, as the Khedive was without question within his constitutional and legal right to name his own Ministers, and it at once dissolved the illusion Cromer had entertained that his and not the Khedive’s authority was popular in Egypt. It was everywhere applauded, and it forced Cromer to abandon his make believe and telegraph to London for English troops, a clear admission of his political impotence. It was a first rent made in the famous “Veiled Protectorate,” and though Cromer in his book describes it as a victory, it was one of physical force only, not moral force.

“On the 26th of January Hardinge of the Legation[6] was here. He told us that when Riaz was informed of the arrival of reinforcements from England he smiled a blue smile and remarked that they would be welcome, as English regiments had always been well-behaved in the country. ‘Riaz,’ said Hardinge, ‘may not love us, but at least he will be an open enemy.’ It appears that Cromer really threatened the Khedive, giving him twenty-four hours to make up his mind, and that the English regiments in garrison had ball cartridges served out. They intended to surround the palace and keep the Khedive prisoner if he refused, but what more does not appear.

“_30th Jan._—Sir Edgar Vincent and his wife, with Lady Alice Portal and Mr. Eldon Gorst, came to tea. I was glad to find that Vincent took quite my view of the situation. He said: ‘They can’t go on on the old lines, and must either declare a protectorate or evacuate. The change,’ he said, ‘in public opinion since I was at Cairo three years ago, is astonishing.’ He has been seeing much of Riaz. As to Turkey and the Sultan he confirms all that I have heard of the improvement. ‘The resuscitation,’ he said, ‘of the Ottoman Empire is the most remarkable phenomenon of our day.’ And so it is.”

Several others have called, all telling the same story, that Riaz has the whole public with him, and that the Khedive is popular everywhere. Only my neighbor, Selim Faraj, being a timid man and a Christian, was frightened when I talked of evacuation as near. He thought it would be followed by a persecution of Christians. ‘It is not,’ he said, ‘as it used to be in Egypt. Ever since the affair of 1882 there has been a growing hatred between Mohammedans and Christians.’ This is true, but whose fault is it?

“_5th Feb._—Parliament has met and Her Majesty has made her speech, to the effect that the sending of troops to Egypt does not indicate a change of policy, also that the Khedive has given her assurances that he will act in co-operation with her representatives.

“_14th Feb._—Went in to Cairo to see the Sheykh el Bekri. Mohammed Moelhi met me at the station and we drove to a Mowlid [a religious birthday feast] in the Bab esh Shariyeh, where we found the young Sheykh in a house decorated for the occasion. He arrived as we arrived, and we went in together. There was a great crowd of people, but the Selamlik was empty, and we sat down with El Bekri and talked in French, while religious Sheykhs and others presently came in to pay their respects to him. The Sheykh el Bekri is a young man about twenty-five, of no very imposing appearance, small and pale, very plainly dressed in white turban gombaz and abba, you might take him for one of the Azhar students, but he has a certain quiet dignity and is most intelligent. He talks French perfectly. I discussed the situation with him both as to the exiles and as to current politics. On the political situation he talked very sensibly, and urged me strongly to call on the Khedive and talk it over with him. I said: ‘I will call on leaving Egypt to ask him pardon for the exiles, and then if he chooses to speak to me on other things I will discuss them with him.’ But I explained that my situation was rather a delicate one, as I had formerly been exiled and had been put under an obligation not to interfere; still I was in communication with Sir William Harcourt, and any message the Khedive might choose to give me I would deliver. The Sheykh el Bekri told me that when he was in England last summer he had seen Gladstone, and Gladstone had spoken strongly to him in the sense of evacuation and against Lord Cromer’s policy. He could not understand that he should now be supporting it. I explained the political intrigues at home and Rosebery’s position in the Cabinet. He seemed well acquainted with men and things in England. I gathered from him that the quarrel between the Khedive and Lord Cromer was very much a personal one. At this point music began outside and chanting, and our sofa was turned round to the window and we continued our talk, but with interruptions. I arranged, however, with him that he should speak to the Khedive of my readiness to be of service to him, and that he was to arrange an audience before I left Egypt. This will oblige me to put off my journey (the one I had intended to take) to the Fayum. The thing is interesting, and reminds me not a little of old days. I never thought to become the Khedive’s confidant after all that has happened.

“_15th Feb._—Sir George Bowen came and spent the day. A man of enlightened ideas, and much practical experience in English protectorates, the Ionian Islands, Malta, etc., where he has served officially. We talked out the Egyptian question fully, and were pretty much agreed about it. He says, the Liberal Government at home would willingly evacuate, but fears public opinion. He has talked much since he has been in Egypt with Riaz, and Nubar, and Cromer. Nubar regrets that England did not annex in 1882. Cromer admits that he does not know what to do. There are three possible courses: (1) To annex, which would cause an European war. (2) To evacuate, which English opinion would not stand, and (3) To stay on as we are. This last is what he (Cromer) intends to do. Bowen confirms all I have said of the universality of popular feeling against us here, the desire that everyone has to see us gone (not personal hatred). He finds the Copts quite as much against us as the Mohammedans. He understands the feeling as political, and patriotic, not fanatical. He lays much of the blame on Cromer, who is not, he thinks, the sort of man to acquire the confidence of a young Oriental Prince. . . . He asked me my solution, and I told him that I thought the English garrison might be withdrawn to Suez as a compromise, that would satisfy the cry in England about the route to India. He is in communication with Lord Kimberley and will write to him, and I trust may do some good, though the Liberal party seems to have gone in for a thorough debauch of Jingoism.

“_21st Feb._—Again to see the Sheykh el Bekri, this time in his own palace, formerly Abbas Pasha’s, where I had once been in his father’s time in 1881. He is certainly a most clever and charming young man, knowing everything about the politics in Europe and Constantinople as well as in Egypt. He sees Riaz constantly, and vouches for Riaz as a sincere opponent of Cromer, and supporter of Abbas. Riaz holds other language to the English here. I told Sheykh el Bekri that I thought it very important the Khedive should state in some official document the exact nature of the promise he made to Cromer as to his being ‘willing to _follow the advice_ of Her Majesty’s Government on all important matters,’ whereas the Khedive has told deputations that have waited on him that all he promised was ‘to _consult_ the British Resident.’ This he ought to make clear. Sheykh el Bekri assured me that under present circumstances Abbas could count on the Sultan’s support. He is advising the Khedive to act in everything through and with the support and countenance of the Legislative Council. This is the right road.

“_23rd Feb._—To Cairo to order a black coat, the Khedive being punctilious on the score of clothes. Fortunately I found one at the English tailor’s ready made. [It had been ordered for Oliver Montagu who had just died at Cairo, and had never worn it.] Had a long talk with Sackville[7] who thinks things very unsatisfactory, the European Powers would not allow our annexation, the Turks would come from Constantinople if we went.

“_24th Feb._—Sheykh Mohammed Abdu came for lunch and stayed the afternoon. I had not seen him since the _coup d’état_, and was anxious for his opinion. He is strongly in favour of Riaz who, he says, may be depended on, not so Tigrane or Boutros. Tigrane, Artin, and the Christians generally do all they can to destroy Moslem education. Riaz is a tyrant, but he is honest. He gave me his opinions of the various Englishmen employed in the country; ‘the only good ones,’ he said, ‘are Scott, Garstein, and Corbett. It has been the introduction of so many inferior Englishmen in the last three years that has ruined English influence.’ He laughed much at Wallace and his school of agriculture, and at Willcox with his reforms of the Arabic language. He is very glad I am to see the Khedive, and wants me to impress on him the necessity of keeping well with Riaz, and of taking up young Mohammedans rather than Armenians and Syrians. He would also work in a Constitutional sense. ‘We do not mind,’ he said, ‘the English being here for a year, or two years, or five years, so long as they do not stay altogether. It would be better for the country as giving time for the growth of the Fellah party, but if there is danger of annexation we are quite ready to run the risk of a little tyranny from the Turks, rather than the other greater risk; if you will evacuate to-morrow we shall all rejoice.’ Now Abdu is probably the _most_ philo-English of the Egyptians.

“On the 25th February an interview with me, which had been published in the ‘Pall Mall Gazette,’ having been reprinted in the ‘Bosphore Egyptien,’ I wrote to Lord Cromer to explain that I was not responsible for this, or for joining in any of the attacks made on him in the Egyptian newspapers. ‘In England,’ I said, ‘it is different. There as long as we occupy Egypt without annexing it, the Egyptian question must remain a subject of public discussion, and I am sure you will not think that with the strong views I hold on the injustice of destroying Egyptian Nationality, my expressing myself on the subject was unfair or uncalled for.’ In answer he said, while thanking me for my letter, ‘I cannot, of course, take the smallest exception to your expressing your views on Egyptian questions in any form you may think fit, neither did I for a moment imagine that you wished to make a personal attack on myself.’ I quote this as showing what my relations with Cromer were at this and in subsequent times when we quarrelled politically.

“_28th Feb._—Went this morning by appointment to see the Khedive at Abdin Palace. I found him in the same room as a year ago, and he came to meet me at the door. He received me very cordially, and talked throughout with a great show of frankness and confidence. His manner is certainly excellent, and he has a wonderful command of words for so young a man, with a very frank, agreeable smile. He began about his farm at Koubbah, which he said interested him far more than anything at Abdin, and we discussed the subject of horse-breeding and the growth of _bersim hejazi_. Then he went on to politics. He thanked me for having spoken in his favour in the P.M.G. interview. ‘The whole English Press,’ he said, ‘is against me.’ I asked him for a history of what had happened. He said: ‘As long ago as the end of last summer, when Mustafa Pasha (Fehmy) returned from Europe, Palmer (the Financial Adviser) came to me and complained of my having spoken against him. I asked him how he knew I had done so. He said the people of the Palace were talking. Then Hardinge came with the same complaint, but could not tell me who it was that had spoken. When Lord Cromer arrived he came to me and told me that I was becoming very unpopular (laughter) in the country because I was not cordial with Mustafa Pasha. The fact is Mustafa is an invalid, and has to go in the summer to Europe. He is not fit to be Prime Minister. When he fell ill, Lord Cromer objected to my taking Tigrane, and offered me a choice of several quite incapable persons—Balig Pasha, who is a Cypriote, Affet Pasha, who is one of the worst of men, and Ahmed Shukri, who is quite incapable.’

He then gave me an account of what had happened between him and Cromer as to the promise of following English advice. I asked him to tell me the exact words, and he said: ‘We were speaking in French’ (to me he was speaking in very good English, and I fancy he keeps his French for his English advisers), ‘and what I said was, “Que j’avais tout désir d’agir de concert avec le Gouvernement Anglais et que je ne manquerais pas de le consulter sur toute chose de grande importance.”’ He denied, however, categorically that he gave any promise of ‘following English advice.’ I showed him Cromer’s despatch published in the Blue Book, which I had in my pocket with the Queen’s Speech, and he said the latter was correct enough, not the other. I then told him that I considered it very important since that was so, that he should at once contradict it officially, as afterwards it would be quoted against him, and he promised to make Tigrane write an official despatch in that sense. I then asked him whether he could rely absolutely on Riaz as against Cromer, and he said ‘absolutely.’ ‘If that is so,’ I said, ‘and you have the Sultan with you, you have nothing whatsoever to fear.’ He said, ‘Indeed I am not in the smallest degree afraid of any one. I consider that I have a great responsibility here as ruler of the country and a great duty, and I mean to do it. I do not care what happens.’ I noticed that he was reticent about the Sultan, but I did not press that matter. About Tigrane he said, ‘I know that I can depend better on Riaz than on Tigrane. Tigrane, being a Christian, has no influence in the country, but Riaz has. We must make use of Christian ministers as administrators, not as heads of the Government.’ I then asked him about the amnesty for Arabi and the other exiles. I told him I had had letters from Arabi full of loyal expressions towards him, and that I was sure he could count on him to be faithful to them, that Mahmud Sami might be very useful to him, and that I hoped he would allow them to return to Egypt. He received this very favourably, and I went on to say that I had always regretted that his father, Tewfik, had quarrelled with Arabi, and so brought the English into the country—he did not dissent from this—that as a matter of fact, Arabi’s policy was precisely the same as his, Abbas’ own, namely, to get rid of foreign rule. He said he could not give me a precise answer about the exiles until he had consulted others, but that he would take their case into favourable consideration, and when a proper opportunity occurred he hoped to be able to accede to my request. I said I would not press it on him at the present moment of his strained relations with Cromer. I then advised him strongly to take his Legislative Council into his counsels, and act through it and through the General Assembly, and I told him of Labouchere’s view. In all this he cordially agreed. A deputation then appeared in the outer room, and I saw that it was time to go. I took my leave, promising him to state his case in any quarters where I might have influence, and that he could always count on me for the best of my advice. He walked to the door with me, making me promise to come and see him, and his horses at Koubbah. As I was leaving him I said, ‘One word more. If Lord Cromer should leave Egypt, and there is any question of appointing an Indian officer in succession to him, I advise Your Highness strongly to object.’ He said, ‘Oh, certainly. I know them.’ And so with great cordiality we parted.

“I am delighted with the young man. He is able, courageous, and self- possessed. He reminds me of his grandfather, Ismaïl, as to wit, _mais en mieux_. He ought to win his game against Cromer.

“Mohammed Moelhi came in the afternoon. I told him all that has passed at the palace and he said: ‘Now you must go to Constantinople, the Sultan will wish to see you.’ So I shall do if all goes well.

“_1st March._—I received a curious visit from one Abdullah El Moughera, an Arab of the Moughera tribe of Aflaj, but born at Shagra, in Nejd. He told me he had left Nejd as servant to Abdullah Ibn Thenneyan Ibn Saoud, who went to Constantinople twelve years ago, wanting to be established in Nejd by the Turkish Government. He had been employed by the Sultan to try and raise troops among the Anazeh and other tribes and had succeeded in getting Sotamm Ibn Shaalan and other chiefs to go to Constantinople. But Sheykhs Ahmed Essaad and Abul Huda had been jealous of him and he had left the Sultan’s service and had gone back to Syria. At Jerusalem he had offered his services to the British Consul to raise an insurrection in Syria, and the Consul had sent him on to Lord Cromer. He had seen Cromer and Boyle, but says he could not make them understand him, as Boyle and he talked Turkish, but most probably they would not have anything to do with him, so he came on to me.

“He came again 4th March, and I gave him £10 and advised him to go back to Syria.

“_6th March._—Abderrahman Ismaïl came and reminded me of what I had advised about the Khedive declaring himself before Parliament met. ‘You see,’ he said, ‘we have taken your advice.’ So it is just possible that my words may have had some influence in bringing the crisis on, only I wish they had consulted me as to the way of doing so. I should not have advised this sudden change of Ministers. But perhaps it is best as it is. It was not Ahmed Shukri, but Mohammed Shukri, who, he told me, was working with Riaz. He talked now in the highest spirits of all that was happening. I told him I thought it possible negotiations for evacuation might be begun before the end of the year.

“_7th March._—To-day I went to see Riaz Pasha. To my astonishment he had written me a most amiable note, asking to see me and signing himself _Votre bien dévoué_. So I called at three at his private house in the Helmiyeh quarter, near the citadel, I suppose the quarter where his old Jew father lived. He received me with the greatest cordiality, a little, wizened, gray old man, with a nervous, twitching face (once Abbas I’s dancing boy!) and poured me out his griefs. He began with a long apology for his conduct in past times and of how he would have saved the country if it had not been for Arabi’s pushing on too quickly. I did not care to argue that point, as I knew it would take time, and he is sorry enough now for having got the English into the country. He is very angry with Cromer for having humbugged him when he was last in office about evacuation, and on my showing him what Labouchere had written me about Rosebery’s intention _never_ to evacuate, he threw up his hands in real passion.

“We discussed the necessity of action through the General Assembly, and he quite agreed. But he strikes me as being rather old and infirm, and I doubt if he will hurry on fast enough. Unless they act here, while our Parliament is sitting, they will lose their pains. I talked to him also about getting the Sultan to agree to the neutralization of Egypt in connection with our withdrawal, and he thought it could be managed if the word neutralization was not used to the Sultan. He thought also they might come to an agreement to make over the town of Suez permanently to England, but he begged me not to quote him, also he promised to draw up a programme of reforms. About the Khedive’s denial that he had promised to _follow_ English advice he did not feel sure, but said that something he thought had already been written about it. He is very Oriental and very vague, but there is something in him that inspires confidence. When I said, ‘You must not repeat all I have told you to Lord Cromer,’ he exclaimed, ‘Ah, _could_ you think it?’ Lastly I talked to him about Arabi’s return, and he spoke much as the Khedive had spoken, of there being no unwillingness on their part only that the time was inopportune. He complimented me on my constancy to my friend, and we parted on the best possible terms. Coming with me to the head of the stairs he kept repeating: ‘Ah, que je suis content de vous avoir vu, que je suis content, que je suis content.’

“_11th March._—I have written my article, ‘Lord Cromer and the Khedive,’ for the ‘Nineteenth Century,’ also letters to Churchill, Labouchere, and Loulou Harcourt, founded on my talk with the Khedive; also 12th March to Mr. Gladstone.

“_22nd March._—Mohammed Moelhi tells me of a new trouble. A certain Ali Bey, Colonel of a regiment quartered at Koubbah, had made himself conspicuous by his visits to the Khedive, and his congratulations on the issue of the _coup d’état_. This has given offence to Kitchener, the new Sirdar, and they have ordered the regiment back to Suakim, whence it only came six months ago. The Minister of War, Yussuf Shudi, one of the old gang, lets Kitchener do what he likes. [This entry is of more importance than it seems, for this Ali Bey was Ali Bey Kamel, brother to Mustafa Kamel, afterwards leader of the National Party, who began his political career by taking up this quarrel of his brother with Kitchener.]

“_31st March._—Everard Fielding (he had been staying with us at Sheykh Obeyd) brought the Sultan of Johore to see us, a good old Indian gentleman of very simple manners and much _bonhomie_. He lunched with us, notwithstanding Ramadan, talking pleasantly in _pidgin_ English, which did not altogether mar his dignity. With him a young Malay, the general of his army, and his English secretary, Captain Creighton. He complained that though he had been a fortnight at Cairo, he had as yet seen none but English officials, and that Lord Cromer had not encouraged him in his desire to go into Egyptian society. I offered to put him in the way of this, which much delighted him, and as good luck would have it, Mohammed Moelhi called, while we were sitting on the roof, and I introduced him and sent Mohammed back with him to Cairo, to take him, to-day being Friday, to the Mohammed Ali Mosque for prayers, and I am to take him on Sunday to the Sheykh el Bekri and get Mohammed Abdu and other Sheykhs to call on him, and we will put him in the right way to an introduction to Sultan Abdul Hamid when he goes on to Constantinople.

“_2nd April._—To Cairo, where I took the Sultan of Johore to Sheykh el Bekri, acting for him as interpreter. This was a difficult matter, as the poor old Sultan’s English is hardly intelligible, and his ideas are most embroiled, and his manner, too, for an Oriental, is strangely bad, and I fear he shocked el Bekri by a certain _sans-façon_ in speaking of holy things, though I was able to smooth down his more unfortunate remarks, as interpreters do. The truth is they were at cross purposes. What el Bekri wanted to find out was whether the Sultan had any panislamic ideas, whether he wanted to see Abdul Hamid at Constantinople for a political purpose, and whether he would encourage panislamic missionaries at Johore. The old man, on the other hand, only wanted a little personal sympathy as a Mohammedan from Mohammedans. He was too humble-minded to expect much notice from Abdul Hamid, and had nothing of any importance to say to him. Thus each misunderstood the other. ‘Do the Mohammedan Princes in India,’ the Sheykh asked, ‘communicate with each other as such, and do they communicate with the Sultan at Constantinople?’ To which the other replied that the Malay princes knew each other, but not the others. They had never had the smallest communication with Constantinople, and the Ottomans looked on them as Kaffirs. A Turkish man-of-war had once come and stayed some time at Singapore on her way to Japan, and it was not till just before she sailed that they discovered that Johore was Mohammedan. Then everybody had been delighted. That was the only communication that had ever taken place with the Turks. They saw many Arabs of the Hedjaz at Singapore who came to trade, but they were ignorant men, though some were rich. He would like to go to Constantinople, but he would not put the Sultan to the trouble of receiving him. He was only a small sovereign, and had nothing of importance to say. As to missionaries, he would be delighted if the Sheykh would send them a professor to teach them their religion. They were all Shafaïs at Johore. They said their prayers in Arabic, but did not know the meaning of the words; the Koran was not translated into Malay except some parts of it. He was having a translation made, they were all very ignorant. The young Sheykh el Bekri hardly knew, I think, what to make of it all. The good Sultan of Johore was more successful with other Egyptians whom I took him to. At Abdul Salaam’s the Pasha was on all fours to His Highness, and me for bringing him. He described to them his patriarchal way of governing his country with a walking stick—‘like the first Caliphs’ Abdul Salaam remarked—and how he liked, when he was at home with his wife and his mother, to sit on the floor and eat with his fingers. He wanted to find somebody doing that, but at Cairo there were European chairs and sofas everywhere. We have promised to show him that, too, and he is to go on to Mohammed Abdu.

“Later I went alone with Mohammed to call on Mukhtar Pasha, and had a long talk with him on the political situation, the upshot of which was that he promised no time should be lost in pushing things on. He would write at once to the Sultan, suggesting that he should take action in the direction of neutralizing Egypt, and he would urge Riaz to convoke the General Assembly here after Ramadan. It shows how little these people know of their own affairs, and how entirely Dufferin’s Charter has remained a dead letter, that when I spoke to Mukhtar of the Assembly, he stoutly denied that there existed such an institution. ‘It would be,’ he said, ‘a most precious instrument in our hands, but I have never heard of it.’ I exhorted him to consult his papers. He also assured me that as long as the Khedive was _dans la bonne voie_, he could count on the Sultan’s support. Also about Riaz that he was sure he would work straight now with the Khedive. Riaz was much changed in the last two years. He would jog him on if he was slow, as he quite saw the necessity for action. Every year the Occupation lasted rooted it more firmly. Lastly, he promised to see the Sultan of Johore, who I hope will not commit any _inconvenance_ when they meet. It is announced in the papers that Cromer’s new yearly Report is published, and that the ‘Daily News’ in London supports it, and declares it must be several years before Egypt can be left to manage its own Government.

“_5th April._—Randolph writes me an interesting letter about Egypt. He says that he is still in favour of evacuation, but at the present time cannot express his opinion publicly with advantage. He wishes, me, however, to tell the Khedive to keep on good terms with Cromer as his best chance.

“_12th April._—Lunched with Tigrane (the Armenian Under Secretary for Foreign Affairs). He is, I think, sound in his Nationalism, though an Armenian. We talked about my article in the ‘Nineteenth Century,’ with nearly all of which he agreed, objecting only that it might do harm to the Khedive that I should have stated him to have denied the promise to follow English advice. He said he had been himself the intermediary in arranging the affair between the Khedive and Lord Cromer, that he had drawn up in writing with Lord Cromer the form of words the Khedive was to use, namely, ‘_Je suiverai volontiers les conseils_,’ etc.; that the Khedive had read the Memorandum and had learnt it by heart, and had promised to use the exact words. He therefore presumed that the Khedive had done so, and that the promise was in fact made. I said there could be no mistake that the Khedive now denied it, and we both agreed that it was a point of the utmost importance. He said that the Legislative Council would be convened soon after Bairam, when they would introduce a programme of educational and other reforms. He would see Mohammed Abdu as to a reform of the Azhar if I would send him to him. As to the General Assembly the country was not yet ready for it. It would have to be written about first in the press. He had himself always been in favour of Constitutional measures. I think I made him understand that without constant action there was no chance of success. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘we drift down the stream like a log to the sea.’ On the whole I am pleased with Tigrane.

“_13th April._—Lady H. writes that she has seen Gorst who seemed immensely struck with my article, ‘Lord Cromer and the Khedive,’ never apparently before having realized what a good case can be made out for the other side.

“_15th April._—Called again on Mukhtar Pasha, who talked with considerable unreserve. Speaking of the necessity there would be of England’s holding Egypt in force, if she were at war with any Great Power, I had remarked we should require 20,000 men—‘50,000,’ he exclaimed, ‘only to deal with the internal disturbance, and when I come with an army from out there from Damascus you will see how many more you will want.’”

This is the account given by my diary of Abbas’ first pitched battle with Cromer, which the latter always claimed as a notable victory, though in reality it was hardly that in any moral sense, Cromer having got his way only by the violent physical measure of calling for British reinforcements and by the unreadiness of the French Government to make it a _casus belli_. Relying on this he succeeded in intimidating the young Khedive to the extent of obtaining from him a compromise in regard to his right of appointing Ministers which he was able to represent in his reports as dictated by himself, but it left him with the Khedive for a persistent enemy, who though many times forced to submit was never reconciled, and who in the end defeated his old enemy, and drove him out of Egypt. I have recorded it here at some length, for it marks the beginning of an obstinate determination on the part of our Foreign Office under the Liberal, no less than under the Conservative administrations in Downing Street, to cling to Egypt right or wrong, wisely or foolishly, to its own hurt twenty years later.

On the 18th April we left Sheykh Obeyd for Athens and Constantinople. At Athens I found my friend Egerton newly appointed Minister, and we lunched at the Legation with him and Arthur Ellis, who was there in attendance on the Princess of Wales on a yachting cruise, and they both talked with a certain sympathy of my Egyptian views, Egerton being still for evacuation as when we had talked of it together in Paris; but we made no stay at Athens more than the few hours allowed by our steamer, and on 23rd April we landed at Galata, and took up our quarters at Myssiris Hotel, where all is unchanged since I was first there thirty- three years before, and where we stayed for a fortnight, an interesting visit, though I failed after all in the chief object of it, that of getting speech of the Sultan.

Our first visitor on arrival was my old ally Ibrahim Moelhi, Mohammed’s father, now a Pasha by favour of the Sultan, and in high favour at the Imperial court, who put me in the way of seeing various dignitaries, including Munir Pasha, the Sultan’s chief intermediary between Yildiz Palace and strangers of distinction, who promised me an early audience of His Majesty, but I soon found there were obstacles in the way of an actual private audience of the kind usual at that time among the Court officials. Mukhtar Pasha, from whom I had brought a letter of introduction to Munir, had described me in it as “a _rich_ Englishman who had for many years defended the cause of the Arabs against the English Government.” The word “rich” was an unfortunate one as suggesting ideas of _bakshish_ to the official mind, and I soon discovered that the doors of Yildiz would need more than one golden key to open for me, a form of blackmail I was not prepared to submit to, for I have made it a rule in my dealings with Orientals neither to give, nor to receive, presents. Neither was I disposed to waste more time than a few days waiting for this and that arrangement to mature. Nevertheless I had opportunities given me of seeing a good deal of the inside machinery of that singular abode, the Sultan’s residence and its surroundings. I might of course have obtained a formal audience in the orthodox way by getting the British Ambassador to present me, but that would not have served my purpose as the conversation of strangers under such circumstances of introduction was never more with Abdul Hamid than a polite interchange of compliments.

Our Ambassador at the time was Sir Clare Ford, on whom we all called, and who received me very cordially as a former member of the Diplomatic service, and who had for a while worked there in Bulwer’s time as an _attaché_, but we did not talk politics except with Nélidoff, the Russian Ambassador, who was announced while we were there, and who had at one time been my intimate friend when he and I were _attachés_ together at Athens. Nélidoff always remembered our days there with pleasure when we met, and so it was on this occasion. We talked of old times at Athens when he and I were still almost boys, he three or four years older than me, and of the paper chases we had ridden together in the olive woods with Dufferin, he, too, still a young man, travelling with his mother in the East, and who had spent the winter with us there. I found him much intrigued about the Sultan of Johore, who to his immense surprise found himself an object of vast curiosity at Constantinople, and who, thanks to Sheykh el Bekri’s introduction, had been received with all ceremonious honour by Abdul Hamid, though the Court had refused from the first to acknowledge him as having any claim to calling himself a Sultan. Nevertheless he was credited by everyone with a very high position as a Mohammedan Prince in the Malay States. Nélidoff told the story of what the Sultan’s chamberlain had said of him when Nélidoff had asked who and what he was. “Je ne connais pas de Sultan de Johore, mais il y a un prince de ce nom qui a demandé audience de sa Majesté le Sultan.” Nélidoff was curious to know how many subjects Johore contained, and when I told him “only half a million” was greatly disappointed. He had been reckoning on him, I think, as a possible ally for Russia on the borders of India.

Going on the same afternoon (25th April) to a hotel where he was staying “I found the Johore suite in the seventh heaven of delight over their reception last night by the Sultan. Two state carriages had been sent for them with an escort of cavalry—this had been denied them in London at the Queen’s Jubilee. They had been entertained at a state banquet, and Sultan Abdul Hamid had embraced his brother monarch and had bestowed on him the First Class of the Order of Osmanieh in diamonds, and on the suite correspondingly high decorations. I did not see the old gentleman himself, he being with the dentist. Mohammed Moelhi alone was not decorated, though as a matter of fact it was entirely owing to him that Johore had been received at all. The Sultan had refused at first, saying he was only an Indian Rajah, but Moelhi managed to persuade the palace people through Jemal ed Din, and the brilliant reception accorded was the result. Jemal ed Din was at the banquet, and according to Ibrahim’s account, is now in high favour at Yildiz, having succeeded with Abdul Hamid by his plainspoken audacity. The Sultan has offered him all kinds of grades and decorations, but Jemal ed Din has wisely refused, and the other day, on being turned back by the master of ceremonies at one of the Bairam Court functions, Jemal ed Din pushed his way through notwithstanding, and so attracted the Sultan’s notice, who sent for him and made him stand close to him behind his chair, nearer even than the Grand Eunuch. So Jemal ed Din is the man of whom to solicit favours, and I am to be taken to call on him to-morrow, the episode of the umbrella in the back room at James Street being consigned to oblivion. How foolish Drummond Wolff was to change his mind at Vienna and not take the Seyyid with him to Constantinople in 1885, as I had arranged he should do. He would have got his Convention ratified and succeeded where he failed.[8]

“_26th April._—With Judith to luncheon at the Embassy. The German Ambassador was there, with a Swedish Count and Countess and Carnegie, a cousin of the Ambassador, of a branch of the Southesk family settled in Prussia, also Nicholson, our Secretary of Embassy, next to whom I sat. I found both Nicholson and Ford professing opinions favourable to the evacuation of Egypt; indeed, Ford introduced me to the German Ambassador as ‘the Englishman most strongly-opposed to our Occupation of Egypt.’ Nicholson married a sister of Lady Dufferin, and was in Egypt at the time of Dufferin’s special mission of 1882-3. He gave me a less rosy- coloured picture of Turkish Finance than Vincent, who is negotiating a new loan, and so makes the best of things here.

“At three on with Judith to Nishantash, in the Musafir Khaneh, an official lodging house for distinguished visitors attached to Yildiz, where Jemal ed Din has rooms. The old Afghan received us with open arms and embraced me on both cheeks in a room filled with reverend Turks, and made Judith sit in the armchair of state, and gave us tea and coffee and entertained us for an hour and a half. Anne had written him a note of excuse in Arabic, which was read out two or three times with great admiration at its style and correctness. Then we had a long talk on politics, partly in Arabic, partly in French, which Jemal ed Din talks pretty fluently. Ibrahim Moelhi was there, but the others did not understand us (very few Turks know Arabic). Jemal ed Din asked my opinion of the various personages in Egypt, the Khedive, Riaz, Mukhtar, Tigrane and I also explained to him the situation in England. He was there some months last year, and had got rather incorrect ideas—for one thing, that the evacuation of Egypt was only prevented by the Khedive’s _coup d’état_. He did not understand that the English Liberal party had long before surrendered to Rosebery. About the state of things here we did not talk except that the Sultan would certainly support Abbas as long as he opposed us in Egypt, and that no claim would be put forward by Abdul Hamid of interfering with the Administration there. Altogether a satisfactory visit. There seems a good chance now of my getting my audience at Yildiz, but I told Jemal ed Din that I cannot wait longer than Monday.

“_27th April._—To the bazaars with Judith and the Walter Blunts (General Walter Blunt Pasha, an A.D.C. of the Sultan, who had called two or three days ago with his wife claiming relationship, though I hardly know on what ground). He talked of his family as connected with Plaw Hatch, in Sussex, a fine-looking old man in a very smart uniform. He has been in the Turkish service since 1878. On our return we found Jemal ed Din and Ibrahim Moelhi calling on Anne, who told us wonderful tales of the system of Palace management. It is arranged that I am to be taken by the superintendent of the Musáfir Khaneh to see Munir Pasha to-morrow during the Selamlik. I am not to ask for an audience, but only to deliver my letter from Mukhtar Pasha. They seem to think, however, that it will require a week or more to prepare the ground for an audience, since nothing here can be done in a hurry. I am determined all the same to leave on Monday, for if I am to do any good I must be back in England before Whitsuntide. The one practical question I want to ask the Sultan is whether, if the English Government were willing to open negotiations on the lines of the Wolff Convention, he also would be willing, but Jemal ed Din thinks it would be impossible at a first audience to go so far as that.

“_28th April._—To the Selamlik with Judith and the Walter Blunts (Anne being still laid up), a really splendid spectacle. It was held in front of the new mosque at Yildiz, and everything had been done to make it impressive, as there were ninety officers of the French fleet present, brought especially by the Sultan’s yachts from the Dardanelles. Sarah Bernhardt, too, was there, to whom the display must have had a special spectacular meaning. What interested me most was the large number of Mohammedan Sheykhs and dignitaries from distant provinces of the empire, who followed the prayer outside the mosque and took part in the procession. This has been the triumph of Abdul Hamid’s reign. In one of the tribunes were a couple of old Druse Sheykhs in splendid attire, with whom I exchanged a few words, and one of them recognized me, having been at Salkhat when Anne and I passed through it on our way to Nejd in 1878. They were then, and as late as 1881, at war with the Sultan, now they are his guests, clothed in robes of honour.

“When it was over I went with General Blunt to call on Emin Pasha, the Chamberlain, and got from him permission to visit the Imperial Arab stud at the Sweet Waters; the General would have gone with me also to Munir Pasha, but I explained that perhaps Munir would sooner see me alone; so presently the superintendent came for me and took me to Munir. There was with him an officious little man whom I afterwards found to be Guarracino, the ‘Times’ correspondent; but Munir sent him away. He then read my letter from Mukhtar and became cordial. We talked a little about the affairs of Egypt, and a little about my travels, and he said he would inform the Sultan of my arrival.

“In the Diplomatic Box which we occupied at the Selamlik, I found our old friend Sabunji,[9] now in fine feather, having a permanent post as translator to the Sultan. He lives at Prinkipo and comes in twice a week to Yildiz. He told me he had had my article ‘Lord Cromer and the Khedive’ given him to translate, and that the Sultan certainly had read it. He advised me to ask for an audience, but I told him I had no time. General Blunt whispered me that he was ‘a palace spy,’ which of course he is, and therein lies his value; he may be of great use to us here. The day was lovely, the view splendid, and I enjoyed the pageant as I seldom do things of the sort.

“In the evening we drove to the Sweet Waters and were shown the Sultan’s mares. There were, I believe, about 150 of them, all ‘mares from the Arabs,’ but the greater part of them of very small account. Among the herd, however, one was able to pick out about a dozen really good ones, and two or three of the first class. But there was no mare there at all equal to Ali Pasha Sherif’s best, or the best of our own. The best I found had come from Ibn Rashid who, two years ago, sent thirty. But the Egyptian who manages the establishment tells me that they will insist upon tall horses, and I fancy the Bedouins who send the Sultan mares get the big ones on purpose for him, and keep the little ones, which are the best. There was a great hulking mare which Sotamm Ibn Shaalan had brought with him, one I feel sure was never foaled among the Roala. Of horses they showed us seven, the best being without comparison a Seglawi of Ali Pasha Sherif’s, an exact match to our Shahwan. This was a really beautiful and perfect horse, but of diminutive size compared with the others, and so less esteemed here, though the Egyptian knew his worth. Next to him was an immensely showy chestnut from Ferhan Jerba, a beautifully topped horse of great quality, but a little overgrown, and, so the manager told me, less good at the stud than the other. Beyond these two there was not one I would have cared to own, two or three of them being quite unfit to breed from. The management of the stud is, I fancy, very defective, as there were certainly four mares out of five barren. There is, however, enough material to make a good stud out of. I should pick out twenty of the best and sell the others. There were a good many black mares among them, sent as rarities, but I doubt if black is ever a good Arab colour. One of these came from Ibn Rashid and was the best; Sarah Bernhardt was also in the paddock looking on.

“Munir is rather a fine-looking man, with a vigorous, intelligent face, and modern manner—not at all one of the old-fashioned, sleepy Pashas—and in all he says he goes straight to the point. He impressed me favourably.

“_29th April._—Admiral Woods Pasha called on me and talked principally about the Armenian question. He says it has been grossly exaggerated in the London press; that he has seen the text of Newberry, the American Consul’s Report, which is entirely favourable to the Sultan’s Government, that the ‘Times’ refused to publish it, that Sir Clare Ford had sent it home, but that the Foreign Office ignores it. He has written to the ‘Daily Telegraph’ a rather weak letter headed, ‘Justice to Turkey and the Turks.’ But I told him justice was quite out of date now in England, and that he would get a better chance of a hearing if he did not speak of it. To be listened to one must threaten, not plead for mercy.

“To luncheon with the Sultan of Johore and his suite, including Mohammed Moelhi and Ahmed Pasha Ali, A.D.C. to Sultan Abdul Hamid, who has been attached to Johore for the period of his stay. This Ahmed is the same who was sent to us by the Sultan nine years ago to show us over the palaces and treasury, a good-natured, courtly personage, said to be the most be-decorated of any in Turkey. Our conversation at table was a regular Tower of Babel, for though we were only ten people, we were talking five different languages, English, French, Turkish, Arabic, and Malay.

“In the afternoon we went with the Walter Blunts to see the Sultan’s stables at Yildiz—first, however, to call on the director of it, Izzet Pasha, the most European Oriental I have ever met. We found him in trouble, his son having attempted to commit suicide the day before through a love affair. He talked of this quite as a European might. He was sitting in his house near Yildiz, in a rough kind of smoking suit, his hair _en brosse_, and no fez—rather a picturesque looking man, who might have been a French or Italian artist. One certainly would never have guessed him an Oriental. He talked a good deal of heresy about horse-breeding, declared that nine out of ten Arabs had unsound hocks (an absurdity), and they were all unsound one way or the other. He says there is hardly a horse or mare sent by the Bedouins to the Sultan which would pass a veterinary examination. This may perhaps be true, as I daresay they pass on their unsound ones when they are making presents, to say nothing of the horses they send getting changed on their road to Constantinople.

“At the stables, which are inside Yildiz Park wall, we found a splendid collection of stallions arranged in stalls according to their colours, gray, black, or bay—very few chestnuts. Among these the most remarkable were, I think, half-a-dozen brought by Nasr el Ashgar, Sheykh of the Montefik, and several very fine ones from Mohammed Ibn Rashid, and others presented singly by Walys of Bagdad. There were some enormously powerful horses among the bays, and one very fine black horse from Ibn Rashid. But there was unfortunately no intelligent person to explain, nor anybody who knew Arabic, except a black slave. In the first stable there were about sixty horses, nearly all of high quality, but we could not have more than two or three led out, so it was impossible really to judge them. Beyond these were a couple of hundred more, inferior ones, in another stable, and yet a third and fourth stable with European animals. A very old white Arab horse was shown us as the Sultan’s favourite for riding, but they say he seldom gets on horseback. Altogether the grandest Arab collection I have seen, and far superior in quality to the mares we saw yesterday.

“Dined at Ahmed Ali’s in Stamboul with Johore and his suite; a dull dinner in the modern Turkish style, with music during it—which I hate. Our host showed us with pride some astonishing daubs he had perpetrated at Paris twenty years ago, and some of which he had even exhibited. He had also painted his dining-room walls not badly with representations of orange and lemon trees in tubs.

“On my return I found that Munir had called, but I shall not put off my departure unless I have an audience fixed for a special day and hour. Mohammed is to find this out definitely and bring me word to-morrow.

“_1st May._—A dull morning, with a Black Sea fog and cold. Hearing nothing from the Palace, we have taken our places by to-night’s Orient express. Called on Ford to say good-bye, also on Woods Pasha. Yesterday I saw Jemal ed Din at Nishantash. He was urgent I should stay on to see the Sultan, and said he would go at once to the Chief Chamberlain to get a definite answer. But no answer has come. I called also on Abdullah Pasha Nejdi (Ibn Thennayan Ibn Saoud) at his house in Yildiz. He lamented being kept a prisoner here and longed to be back in Nejd. But the Sultan is kind to him. I went with Serrur the Soudani.

“To-day Sabunji called. He came here two years ago with some Englishmen to get a railway concession, which came to nothing, but he stayed on till the Sultan, hearing of him through Munif Pasha, sent for him and made him translator. He now has to read and digest all the newspapers of England, France, and Italy, and to write _précis_ of their contents in Turkish for the Sultan. He sees the Sultan from time to time and sometimes talks to him about European politics or history or archaeology, of which Abdul Hamid is fond. He gets £40 a month and a house at Prinkipo, and so is in clover. He says the Sultan in afraid to employ good men in high positions for fear they should become too popular. Thus Saïd Pasha was dismissed a year and a half ago because he had become popular with the army by paying the soldiers regularly. Lately, Vincent went to the Sultan with proofs of the roguery of the Minister of Marine. The Sultan gave him in return another paper wherein the same and many more robberies were recorded. He had long known all about it.

“At two Ibrahim Moelhy came to beseech me to stay on a few days till next Thursday, only another twenty-four hours, but I was obdurate. ‘I am not a _fakir_,’ I said, ‘to sit at the Palace door waiting. I am not the Sultan’s servant, nor will I dance attendance on any king in the world. If the Sultan wants to see me he must send and say so and I will come, but to-night I go home.’ So he went back to Nishantash.

“At five came the Sultan of Johore with Mohammed Moelhi, who has just received the second class of the Mejidieh from Abdul Hamid. So they are all happy. At six Ibrahim and Mohammed returned to see us to the train. All now is satisfactorily settled. We are to go as arranged to England, but Jemal ed Din is so to manage matters that the Sultan will send for me some time during the summer, and he will obtain for Anne the Chefket Order in diamonds as a sign of extreme favour. In the meantime I am to write to Jemal ed Din letters which he can show to the Sultan on political affairs in England. Thus I shall be his unaccredited Ambassador. The two matters they want principally to be informed about are Armenia and Egypt. And so, much pleased with all that has happened during our week’s stay at Constantinople, we are off and away.”

Thus ended the eventful spring of 1893 and my part in what happened during it at Cairo. On our way back from Constantinople I note:

“_2nd May._—In the train all day crossing the great plain of Eastern Roumelia, the Balkans to the north and the Rhodope range to the south, a splendid plain full of storks and large birds of prey, with a few rollers—frogs croaking gaily, bright sunshine. This part of Bulgaria seems very prosperous—the peasants still in their national costume, the villages still with their minarets, though most of the Mohammedan population is gone.

“Mr. Thompson, the U.S. Minister at Constantinople, is in the train. Ford had given me a note of introduction to him. He has told me much about Armenia, having just sent in a report on the subject to his Government. He says that it is proved the Armenians intended a revolt on the 5th January, but were betrayed by one of their own people. The placards inciting the people to rise were printed in England—no Turks were concerned in it. Also he tells me the whole resident Armenian census is under three-quarters of a million as against five millions of Mohammedans. The only province where the Christians outnumber the Moslems is Kaisariyeh, the smallest of the villayets—there they may be three to one. There was some reason for their discontent in the way of injustice, especially through the tyranny of a certain ex-brigand, Kurshid Pasha, chief of the police, but the measures taken by the Government were not very severe. All the prisoners have now been released except 200, and these he had been promised should not be severely punished though reserved for trial. He has been acting in concert with Ford in the matter. He says emphatically that there is not the material in Armenia to make a nation, though the Christian Armenians desire it. Their brethren under Russia would revolt too if they dared. The Catholic Armenians are with the rest in desiring independence. The whole movement has been got up in England and with English help.

“_3rd May._—Thompson tells me there may be trouble with Russia at Constantinople soon, as the young King of Servia wants to go there and do homage, while the Russian Emperor is opposed to it. The Russians supported the Regency at Belgrade and are angry with the King. He talked also of American politics and the desire in Canada for annexation to the U.S., the U.S. being unwilling on account of the large half-Indian, half-French population, one million, and 160,000 naturalized Chinese. He says, however, it must come about, through reasons of interest for the Canadians.

“Passed to-day through Hungary—many well bred horses. The gray breed of cattle extends from Constantinople to Pesth. It seems the same as the Roman breed, but with variation. In Turkey the shape is nearer to the Highland Scotch breed.

“_4th May._—Passing through Germany we got English papers with an account of the debate in Parliament on Dilke’s Egyptian motion. The French papers express disappointment. To me it seems most reassuring. Gladstone clearly and emphatically repudiates _indefinite_ occupation—talks of convening a European Conference as soon as the condition of things in Egypt returns to the normal. This _must_ put a stop to Cromer’s annexation policy.”