Chapter XIII

DETAILS OF THE ASSASSINATION OF MIDHAT PASHA, ACCORDING TO INFORMATION DERIVED FROM HAÏROULLAH EFFENDI.

In the course of the third year of his exile at Taïf, Midhat Pasha had a large tumour on his right shoulder. The doctor, who was permitted to attend him, was a certain Nashid Effendi, who delayed a fortnight before diagnosing it as anthrax, and who, being ignorant of all modern surgical knowledge, did not even perform the necessary operation, alleging the age of the Pasha as a cause for this omission.

This infamous and unworthy conduct on the part of the doctor was, at first, explained in two ways: as he had only just left the School of Medicine, perhaps he had not sufficient experience, or perhaps he was acting under superior orders of those who were desirous of the death of the invalid. But what is certain is that Damad Mahmoud Pasha, companion in exile of Midhat, having no confidence either in the capacity or honesty of Nashid, and fearing lest he had some criminal design, sent a telegram to the Governor‐General of Hedjaz, residing at Mecca—Osman Nouri Pasha, who is now Marshal and Aide‐de‐camp to Abdul Hamid—in which he implored him to send another doctor, accusing Nashid of incapacity. But Osman Nouri had not even the politeness to reply to him. However, fortunately the anthrax burst of itself, and it was always this same Nashid, accompanied by an officer, Captain Ibrahim Aga, who dressed the wound. The state of health of the invalid, which grew worse from day to day, was caused probably by the treatment to which he was submitted. It must be said that it is almost by a miracle that the wound healed eventually, thanks to a different but altogether rudimentary treatment, which was tried.

The doctor made a report to the Governor‐General after each visit, and that official never failed to transmit it regularly by telegraph to Yildiz Kiosk.

One day Nashid, after dressing the wound with Ibrahim, suddenly asked Midhat Pasha, to the general consternation, if it were really true that in Europe criminals were now only executed by means of chloroform. This question, simple enough in itself, gave more than one person cause for reflection.

Major Bekir[29] of the Third Battalion, 10th Regiment, who was specially charged with the surveillance of the prisoners, had gone away some days previously to Mecca and Medina. It was with very great surprise, therefore, that we saw him enter Midhat Pasha’s room with the doctor and Ibrahim. When asked the reason of his sudden return, Bekir replied simply, with extraordinary cunning, that it was only to arrange certain affairs of the garrison, in the first place, and secondly, to collect the taxes in the villages situated on the side of Tarié. He added that he was getting ready for this journey on the receipt of a special order from the _Muchir_ (Marshal).

This was a bare‐faced lie, and we shall see further on what was in reality the mission with which he was charged.

The sixth day after the arrival of Major Bekir was a Friday, and, as usual, the servants belonging to the prisoners, accompanied by a guard, went to the mosque in the town for the Friday prayer. Arif Aga, servant to Midhat Pasha, remained by his suffering master.

On their return, Major Bekir stopped them all before the _caracol_ or guard‐room, and not seeing Arif Aga amongst them, had him at once sent for.

Arif refused to obey this order, alleging that he could not leave his invalid alone. When the Pashas perceived that Bekir insisted, they told the orderly to fetch him, in order that they might learn the reason of this inexplicable affair. Bekir, on receiving this communication, jumped up, and going to Midhat Pasha’s room in the _kalé_ (fortress), declared in a haughty, insulting manner that the servants would be dismissed from their service, that in future they would have to be contented to eat from _caravanas_, and that they would no longer be allowed to purchase eggs, cheese, nor olives, only tobacco; and last of all, that they would now be forbidden to present any further requests to the Sultan.

Such was the arrogant language employed by Bekir. Later on, changing his tone, he added with less impertinence that he was charged with a special mission, and that he had received an order to send Haïroullah Effendi’s wife (who was living in the town with her baby) first of all to Mecca, and thence to Constantinople. This was most alarming news to many, for it all pointed to secret plots. However, there was no other course open than to await the end with resignation.

Damad Mahmoud Pasha, who was of a very hot‐blooded disposition, and who easily got angry, lost patience, and replied to the explanations of Bekir by demanding that at least the dismissed attendants might be allowed to return to them in order to settle their accounts. Bekir, now become almost amiable, replied that this would be contrary to the orders he had received, but in order to do them a service, he would take the responsibility upon himself and allow the servants to come, accompanied by a guard.

The servants, after their accounts had been settled, were lodged in a room near the principal door of the barracks. The cooking utensils, pens, paper, and ink‐stands, which until then had been placed at the disposition of the Pashas, were now taken from them. Bekir, in order to make the preparations for his travels, spent the night at the barracks.

Midhat Pasha had more than once filled the office of Grand Vizier, and had rendered eminent services to his country. The manner in which they treated him shocked me, for even under these circumstances, taking into consideration his age and the weak state of his health, they might have shown him some consideration.

A hospital attendant, a soldier, who was completely ignorant of the habits of the Pasha, was now appointed as his servant. Nevertheless, Midhat Pasha, we must allow, whilst we render homage to his energy, submitted to all these humiliations with the greatest calm, and even with indifference.

On the 8th of April, a Sunday, Bekir visited Midhat, undoubtedly with the intention, after some conversation, of taking the latest news to the Pasha at Hedjaz, for that same day he was going to leave for Mecca, taking with him the wife of Haïroullah, his child, the servants, and the cooks.

“Are you going now?” asked Midhat Pasha of Bekir.

“Yes, in a few hours,” he replied; “if you have any communications to make me, will you kindly do so now?”

“Very well! Listen to me attentively. His Majesty, Abdul Hamid, has recently raised the Vali to the rank of Marshal, and I congratulate the latter with all my heart. You know, however, all the services that I have rendered my country; no one can deny them. You are not ignorant of the distinguished posts I have successively occupied. Now, you see how I am treated; I see nothing before me except the most gloomy prospect, and it is through you that they will get rid of me. You will be the instruments, and each of you, most probably, will be promoted; the officer will become colonel, the colonel will be gazetted as a general, and so on; but remember that you may die after Abdul Hamid. If you die before, your titles will be inscribed on your tombs; but if the contrary occurs, then I am convinced it will be quite otherwise. Pause now, examine your conscience, calculate your own moral and material interests, and without looking so far ahead, whilst His Majesty is still alive, just think for a moment what has become of the Chief President of that arbitrary tribunal which condemned me in so cowardly a manner, without any tangible proof. It is quite true that Sourouri Effendi was appointed _Cadi Asker_; but was he not exiled soon afterwards, under the title of Governor of Manissa. As to Djevdet Pasha, the second President, he is, as everyone knows, deprived of his functions, and is now at home—a disgraced man. Think of these events, and you will form a correct idea of the situation. I see that some crime is overhanging me. Remember the verse of the Koran which says: ‘Whosoever kills shall be punished with hell and eternal tortures.’... We are all deserving of chastisement at the hands of Divine Justice. And now that you know my opinion, will you communicate it faithfully to the Vali?”

Bekir grew pale, but plucking up courage, replied: “I have been present at several battles; but, apart from war, I have never even cut off the head of a fowl.” The conversation coming to an end, Bekir went out of the prisoner’s room, and at once started on his journey to Mecca, accompanied by the individuals we have already mentioned.

On the seventh day after his departure—a Friday evening—we saw him return to Taïf. To the general surprise he reinstated the servants in the Pashas’ service. After a few days Haïroullah’s wife also returned from Djeddah with her baby and the cook. Haïroullah ordered his servant Ibrahim to look after his household in the town, and contented himself with the services of a common soldier.

The day after his return Bekir once more made his appearance in the Pashas’ quarters, saying that a new Irade had just been telegraphed ordering a diminution of the prisoner’s rations and the dismissal of the cooks. He also presented the greetings from the Vali, who would, nevertheless, allow them to purchase from the bazaar all that they needed.

Why this toleration? What did it mean, coming after the diminution of the rations and the dismissal of the cooks? Bekir replied to this maliciously, stating that such a duty was most unpleasing to him, but that as a soldier he was compelled to obey his superiors, although he regretted to be unable to act otherwise.

At this time, Midhat Pasha was fortunately almost entirely cured of his illness, but they still continued to telegraph daily the state of his health to the Governor‐General.

One day Midhat Pasha sent his attendant to the town to buy some milk from a milkman named Echreff. Immediately on learning this, one of the officers, told off to guard the prisoners, a certain Nouri, wished to accompany the soldier to the milkman’s house. On arriving at their destination, they asked for the milk. Echreff declared that he had only three _kilos_ of milk, which had been ordered by the General, but that he would give them one _ock_ at once if it were for the Pasha. Nouri accepted this offer, and ordered the soldier to take it to Daïra. This most unexpected and unusual amiability on the part of Nouri was noticed, and gave rise to suspicions.

During the Pasha’s illness, it was Saïd Bey, another prisoner, who watched over the food prepared by Midhat’s servant, Arif Aga. Saïd Bey at once took care to examine the can that contained this milk, and noticed to his surprise that the colour of it was unnatural. He tasted a small spoonful and found that the milk had a bitter flavour that hurt his throat. Saïd mentioned this fact to several people who were present, and especially to the lieutenant, Mehemet Aga, and they all tasted it—some of them even had to keep to their beds for several days afterwards, having been so imprudent as to take a sufficient quantity to upset their system.

When this was related to Midhat Pasha, he at once sent for Mehemet Aga, and with much self‐restraint spoke to him as follows: “I sent to‐day for some of the same milk as that ordered by the Binbashi (Major). It has been found to contain verdigris; this has been proved by all those who drank it; I believe that you also tasted it.”

Mehemet acknowledged that the milk had been very much adulterated. Midhat, still preserving his _sang‐froid_, continued: “Since this is the case, why do you not go to the Binbashi (Major) and warn him to be careful not to drink it.”

The officer went away hurriedly, and soon after returned, saying: “That the Binbashi was going to send for the milkman, that he intended to investigate the matter, and that if it were deserved, a severe punishment would be inflicted. That he meant to get to the bottom of the whole business.”

But we learned later on that before Mehemet went to inform the Binbashi, this latter was in the garden of the military hospital, surrounded by his confidants, whom he asked from time to time if all had gone off well! If the milk had been drunk, and if it had proved efficacious.

At the same time we were told that several soldiers who had drunk the Binbashi’s milk had become ill. This, undoubtedly, was nothing but a rumour which had been purposely spread, and has never received confirmation from any trustworthy source.

A sample of this milk was sent to the Binbashi to be analysed by the doctors. The only reply he made was: “That they had not got the necessary apparatus for analysis!” This is absolutely incredible.

In order to save appearances, Bekir sent for Echreff, the milkman, and remonstrated with him. But Echreff, on his side, protested most vehemently. Besides which all his cans were in good condition. He insisted that the milk must have been contaminated by some medicament after it had left his dairy.

Thus the incident was closed, for the Binbashi did not follow up the affair, which he wished to be forgotten.

Another time a strange fact was again noticed. It was when Arif, Midhat’s servant, was still in his service. He always passed his nights in the Pasha’s room, having first of all locked up his own, in which he frequently kept the food he had prepared for the following day.

Arif perceived one morning that the lids of his saucepans had been disturbed, and that their contents presented an unusual appearance. He immediately told Midhat of his extraordinary discovery, and the Pasha sent at once for Damad Mahmoud and the other prisoners, begging them to examine the saucepans. After a summary examination they ascertained that some foreign matter had been introduced. The perpetrator of this odious attempt remained as much unknown as he who had put the verdigris in the milk. The contents of all the saucepans were given to the dogs and cats, but as these animals were none the worse, we thought that this foreign matter could not have been a poison. However, after the assassination of Midhat Pasha we learned that the sub‐lieutenants Mehemet and Nouri, getting in one night by the window, had managed to poison all those dishes of which Midhat Pasha would have partaken the following day. These two gentlemen made a complete confession of this crime some time afterwards.

During this time there was an honest soldier, Mehemet Yosgad, whose duty it was to prepare the coffee. We now know that it was suggested to him more than once that he should give poison to the prisoners, mixing it with their coffee. However, as this honourable man firmly refused to commit this crime, others had to be found who would undertake it.

Mahmoud Pasha, who was very fond of coffee, began to give up drinking it, and no longer smoked his _narghilé_, but in order to show his confidence in honest Mehemet, he never refused coffee that had been prepared by him.

Another time it was noticed that the water which was kept in a _baradé_ had a most offensive smell. The jar was broken, and very great precautions were taken thenceforth.

Major Bekir was a thoroughly bad man, and extremely cunning. He took as many precautions about the crime he was about to commit as he did about his accomplices. So far all attempts at poisoning had failed; other means must be employed!

On the 9th of Redjeb, 1301 (23rd April 1883, O.S.), a Sunday, a detachment of cavalry, with two guns, arrived at Taïf, under the command of a Circassian colonel belonging to the 53rd regiment of the 7th Army Corps. Mehemet Lutfi at once chose out about forty of the strongest soldiers and increased the prisoners’ guard.

Before the arrival of Mehemet Lutfi, Bekir had several times called Hadji Chukri Aga, Mahmoud Pasha’s servant, into his own private room very late at night, when every one was asleep, and kept him there in trivial conversation; but he had never dared to confide the secret to him, nor to ask his help, for Chukri was not the kind of man to become his accomplice, or to commit a crime against his benefactor.

As has been stated above, the colonel reorganised the prisoners’ guards after his own manner. The same day he sent for Arif Aga in order that he might have the incident of the milk explained to him, but in reality he proposed to Arif that he should poison his master.

“The poison is ready,” he said, “and if you succeed in making Midhat drink it, you will receive very great rewards from His Majesty the Sultan. Another man has been commissioned to kill Damad Mahmoud, but if you are willing to undertake that as well, your recompense shall be doubled. If ever you divulge the secret you will be killed.”

The promised reward amounted to £T1000 for the death of Midhat, and £T600 for that of Mahmoud.

Arif was a devoted and faithful servant, besides being a good Mussulman. He not only refused the rewards, but, disregarding all intimidations, protested strongly against the cowardly and unworthy schemes that they had formed against his master. He hastened also to relate to Midhat and to Mahmoud Pasha all that had been said to him.

These two Pashas, deeply moved by this communication, held a long consultation together, but to no purpose. What could they do? For a long time now they had foreseen very clearly that their end was approaching, if not by one way, then by another.

The colonel, who had not thought fit to pay them a visit, appeared very much preoccupied.

On the second night after his arrival he had the prisoners’ quarters surrounded by numerous soldiers, and gave special orders to those who formed the inside guard. On Tuesday evening, he wished to end the whole affair, but circumstances obliged him to put off the execution until the following night. Ibrahim Aga, the captain, and three lieutenants sent for Arif Aga, and told him plainly that owing to a command received from the Palace of Yildiz Kiosk, they were obliged to put an end to Midhat, and that as Arif had refused to poison him, they hoped that at least he would have a little good sense and open the door of the Pasha’s room about midnight; and that if he refused this little service they would know what steps to take.

Poor Arif Aga, maddened by hearing of the odious crime which was about to be committed against his beloved master, sprang up in rage and cried frantically to these wretches: “Oh no! I will never do what you suggest—I will never open the door! I will not be your accomplice! I am afraid of my conscience and of Allah!”

They were beginning to ill‐treat him, but at that moment the prisoners happened to be going to their separate rooms. Midhat, who was on his way to his bedroom, was descending the stairs when he heard the voice of his faithful servant crying out over and over again: “Master, do not go down; return to your friends at once, and spend the night with them. These cowards are meaning to assassinate you!”

Midhat Pasha went up the stairs again, re‐assembled the prisoners, and informed them of this sinister occurrence. Just then one of the officers went to tell the colonel what had happened. He ordered that Arif should be arrested and the prisoners all separated. The faithful servant was dragged off to the barracks, where he was imprisoned, whilst an officer, Memiche, was sent by the colonel to separate the prisoners and to try and calm their fears.

“The colonel,” said Memiche, “presents his compliments to you all, and begs that you will withdraw to your separate bedrooms, as the law requires.” To this command Midhat and Mahmoud replied that they would only be separated by force. They sent for Ibrahim, who arrived somewhat troubled by the turn of affairs. They also requested to speak with Bekir, in order to obtain some explanation of this matter. The major arrived, and entering the room, said—“That good‐for‐nothing Arif doesn’t know what he’s talking about. It looks as if he were doing all this in order to get sent away, unless he is quite out of his mind.” The Pashas could not succeed in hiding their anxiety, for everything foreboded the approaching crime.

“At the present moment,” continued Bekir, “no such order exists. But we are soldiers, and therefore owe unquestioning obedience to our superiors. Be quite at ease! Do you think that anyone would be afraid of you whilst you are in our safe keeping?”

He then began to swear by all that he held most sacred in the world that there was no cause for them to fear. Meanwhile Arif Aga was being tortured for having divulged the secret.

Midhat passed the whole of that night with Ali Bey, another prisoner.

Colonel Mehemet Lutfi and Major Bekir remained in the room overlooking the principal entrance to the barracks, whence they directed the operations. The soldiers were given the same orders as on the preceding night, and cartridges were distributed amongst them.

A captain and three lieutenants were placed in the prisoners’ quarters to superintend operations, and two soldiers, bare‐footed for the occasion, and with bayonets fixed, were stationed at the door of each prisoner’s room.

About six o’clock,[30] Hadji Chukri Aga, Mahmoud’s servant was awakened and transferred to the barracks, where he was imprisoned.

Colonel Mehemet Lutfi remained in the barracks, whilst Major Bekir directed the assassination from the officers’ room.[31]

We have stated above that Ali Bey was sharing Midhat’s room. At about half‐past six (1.30 A.M.) the door was forced open, and Ali Bey was dragged from the room. Then they strangled this old man, who was incapable of offering any resistance.

On bursting in the door of Mahmoud’s room, they threw round his neck a soaped cord, which had been specially prepared, for they were aware that he possessed very considerable muscular strength. Mahmoud made a most desperate resistance, giving vent to piercing cries. They tried every means to hasten his death, with such ferocity that even the animals in the neighbourhood trembled at the sound of his heartrending cries for help. But soon the screams of anguish died away.

A few moments after, two corpses, wrapped in sheets, were transported to a room in the hospital. The perpetrators waited until the day broke before digging their graves in the cemetery, set apart for soldiers, which lies outside the fortifications. There these two martyrs repose in their eternal sleep.

Even the religious ceremonies were not carried out with regard to the funeral—doubtless, in order that the secret might be better preserved. They knew not that Time is the Revealer of all things!

* * * * *

Midhat Pasha had recovered completely from his indisposition. One evening, a little while before his assassination, after a lengthy meditation, he had said to his friends: “I am thinking of death. The pain thereof only endures for five minutes. But I do not know what kind of death may be the least painful. Perhaps poison, or a bullet, or death at the end of some illness. My body, sixty year old, is worn out. Why live beyond this age if it be only to suffer! I should have been happy if my illness had carried me off. But what can I do? The hour has not struck yet. Several innocent people are prisoners here on my account, being obliged to mount guard over me; I should have liked to give them back their liberty.”

Finishing these reflections, he once more returned to his sad and harrowing meditations.

* * * * *

Immediately after the horrible execution, that same night, the doors and locks were all repaired, and two days later the belongings of the Pashas were taken into a room in the barracks. During two consecutive days several subordinates kept going in and out of this room, removing small objects.

Terror had reigned in the hearts of all the prisoners during the assassination. The following day the sentinels were removed, and when the prisoners went to make their morning prayer they embraced and took a last farewell of each other, bursting into tears and awaiting their turn with resignation. The reign of terror still continued, and every word and gesture gave rise to suspicion.

* * * * *

Thus ends the faithful translation of the document sent by Halroullah Effendi, ex‐Sheik‐ul‐Islam. We have preserved all its originality.

APPENDICES