On September 11 Prince Imeritinski and Skobeleff (the order should be inverted) commanded the extreme left of the Russian line, attacking Plevna from the south. Having four regiments of the line and four battalions of sharpshooters—about 12,000 men in all—he ranged them at the foot of the hill, whose summit was crowned by an all-important redoubt-the "Kavanlik." There were four others that flanked the approach. When the Russian guns had thoroughly cleared the way for an assault, he ordered the bands to play and the two leading regiments to charge up the slope. Keeping his hand firmly on the pulse of the battle, he saw them begin to waver under the deadly fire of the Turks; at once he sent up a rival regiment; the new mass carried on the charge until it too threatened to die away. The fourth regiment struggled up into that wreath of death, and with the like result.



Then Skobeleff called on his sharpshooters to drive home the onset. Riding on horseback before the invigorating lines, he swept on the stragglers and waverers until all of them came under the full blast of the Turkish flames vomited from the redoubt. There his sword fell, shivered in his hand, and his horse rolled over at the very verge of the fosse. Fierce as ever, the leader sprang to his feet, waved the stump in air, and uttered a shout which put fresh heart into his men. With him they swarmed into the fosse, up the bank, and fell on the defenders. The bayonet did the rest, taking deadly revenge for the murderous volleys.

But Osman's engineers had provided against such an event. The redoubt was dominated from the left and could be swept by cross fire from the rear and right. On the morrow the Turks drew in large forces from the north side and pressed the victors hard. In vain did Skobeleff send urgent messages for reinforcements to make good the gaps in his ranks. None were sent, or indeed could be sent. Five times his men beat off the foe. The sixth charge hurled them first from the Kavanlik redoubt, and thereafter from the flanking works and trenches out on to that fatal slope. A war correspondent saw Skobeleff after this heart-breaking loss, "his face black with powder and smoke, his eyes haggard and bloodshot, and his voice quite gone. I never before saw such a picture of battle[148]."

[Footnote 148: War Correspondence of the "Daily News," pp. 479-483. For another character-sketch of Skobeleff see the Fortnightly Review of Oct. 1882, by W.K. Rose.]

Thus all the efforts of the Russians and Roumanians had failed to wrest more than a single redoubt from the Moslems; and at that point they were unable to make any advance against the inner works. The fighting of September 11-12 is believed to have cost the allies 18,000 men killed and wounded out of the 75,000 infantrymen engaged. The mistakes of July 31 had been again repeated. The number of assailants was too small for an attack on so great an extent of fortified positions defended with quick-firing rifles. Had the Russians, while making feints at other points to hold the Turks there, concentrated their efforts either on the two Grivitza redoubts, or on those about the Kavanlik work, they would almost certainly have succeeded. As it was, they hurled troops in close order against lines, the strength of which was not well known; and none of their commanders but Skobeleff employed tactics that made the most of their forces[149]. The depression at the Russian headquarters was now extreme[150]. On September 13 the Emperor held a council of war at which the Prince of Roumania, the Grand Duke Nicholas, General Milutin (Minister of War), and three other generals were present. The Grand Duke declared that the only prudent course was to retire to the Danube, construct a tete de pont guarding the southern end of their bridge and, after receiving reinforcements, again begin the conquest of Bulgaria. General Milutin, however, demurred to this, seeing that Osman's army was not mobile enough to press them hard; he therefore proposed to await the reinforcements in the positions around Plevna. The Grand Duke thereupon testily exclaimed that Milutin had better be placed in command, to which the Emperor replied: "No; you shall retain the command; but the plan suggested by the Minister of War shall be carried out[151]."

[Footnote 149: For an account of the battle, see Greene, op. cit. pt. ii. chap. v.]

[Footnote 150: Gen. von. Lignitz, Aus drei Kriegen, p. 167.]

[Footnote 151: Col. F.A. Wellesley, op. cit. p. 281.]

The Emperor's decision saved the situation. The Turks made no combined effort to advance towards Plevna in force; and Osman felt too little trust in the new levies that reached him from Sofia to move into the open and attack Sistova. Indeed, Turkish strategy over the whole field of war is open to grave censure. On their side there was a manifest lack of combination. Mehemet Ali pounded away for a month at the army of the Czarewitch on the River Lom, and then drew back his forces (September 24). He allowed Suleiman Pasha to fling his troops in vain against the natural stronghold of the Russians at the Shipka Pass, and had made no dispositions for succouring Lovtcha. Obviously he should have concentrated the Turkish forces so as to deal a timely and decisive blow either on the Lom or on the Sofia-Plevna road. When he proved his incapacity both as commander-in-chief and as commander of his own force, Turkish jealousy against the quondam German flared forth; and early in October he was replaced by Suleiman. The change was greatly for the worse. Suleiman's pride and obstinacy closed the door against larger ideas, and it has been confidently stated that at the end of the campaign he was bribed by the Russians to betray his cause. However that may be, it is certain that the Turkish generals continued to fight, each for his own hand, and thus lost the campaign.

It was now clear that Osman must be starved out from the position which the skill of his engineers and the steadiness of his riflemen had so speedily transformed into an impregnable stronghold. Todleben, the Russian engineer, who had strengthened the outworks of Sevastopol, had been called up to oppose trench to trench, redoubt to redoubt. Yet so extensive were the Turkish works, and so active was Shevket Pasha's force at Sofia in sending help and provisions, that not until October 24 was the line of investment completed, and by an army which now numbered fully 120,000 men. By December 10 Osman came to the end of his resources and strove to break out on the west over the River Wid towards Sofia. Masking the movement with great skill, he inflicted heavy losses on the besiegers. Slowly, however, they closed around him, and a last scene of slaughter ended in the surrender of the 43,000 half-starved survivors, with the 77 guns that had wrought such havoc among the invaders. Osman's defence is open to criticism at some points, but it had cost Russia more than 50,000 lives, and paralysed her efforts in Europe during five months.

The operations around Plevna are among the most instructive in modern warfare, as illustrating the immense power that quick-firing rifles confer upon the defence. Given a nucleus of well-trained troops, with skilled engineers, any position of ordinary strength can quickly be turned into a stronghold that will foil the efforts of a far greater number of assailants. Experience at Plevna showed that four or five times as many men were needed to attack redoubts and trenches as in the days of muzzle-loading muskets. It also proved that infantry fire is far more deadly in such cases than the best served artillery. And yet a large part of Osman's troops—perhaps the majority after August—were not regulars. Doubtless that explains why (with the exception of an obstinate but unskilful effort to break out on August 31) he did not attack the Russians in the open after his great victories of July 31 and September 11-12. On both occasions the Russians were so badly shaken that, in the opinion of competent judges, they could easily have been driven in on Nicopolis or Sistova, in which case the bridges at those places might have been seized. But Osman did not do so, doubtless because he knew that his force, weak in cavalry and unused to manoeuvring, would be at a disadvantage in the open. Todleben, however, was informed on good authority that, when the Turkish commander heard of the likelihood of the investment of Plevna, he begged the Porte to allow him to retire; but the assurance of Shevket Pasha, the commander of the Turkish force at Sofia, that he could keep open communications between that place and Plevna, decided the authorities at Constantinople to order the continuance of defensive tactics[152].

[Footnote 152: A. Forbes, Czar and Sultan, p. 291. On the other hand, W.V. Herbert (op. cit. p. 456) states that it was Osman's wish to retire to Orkanye, on the road to Sofia, and that this was forbidden. For remarks on this see Greene, op. cit. chap. viii.]

Whatever may have been the cause of this decision it ruined the Turkish campaign. Adherence to the defensive spells defeat now, as it has always done. Defeat comes more slowly now that quick-firing rifles quadruple the power of the defence; but all the same it must come if the assailant has enough men to throw on that point and then at other points. Or, to use technical terms, while modern inventions alter tactics, that is, the dispositions of troops on the field of battle—a fact which the Russians seemed to ignore at Plevna—they do not change the fundamental principles of strategy. These are practically immutable, and they doom to failure the side that, at the critical points, persists in standing on the defensive. A study of the events around Plevna shows clearly what a brave but ill-trained army can do and what it cannot do under modern conditions.

From the point of view of strategy—that is, the conduct of the great operations of a campaign—Osman's defence of Plevna yields lessons of equal interest. It affords the most brilliant example in modern warfare of the power of a force strongly intrenched in a favourable position to "contain," that is, to hold or hold back, a greater force of the enemy. Other examples are the Austrian defence of Mantua in 1796-97, which hindered the young Bonaparte's invasion of the Hapsburg States; Bazaine's defence of Metz in 1870; and Sir George White's defence of Ladysmith against the Boers. We have no space in which to compare these cases, in which the conditions varied so greatly. Suffice it to say that Mantua and Plevna were the most effective instances, largely because those strongholds lay near the most natural and easy line of advance for the invaders. Metz and Ladysmith possessed fewer advantages in this respect; and, considering the strength of the fortress and the size and quality of his army, Bazaine's conduct at Metz must rank as the weakest on record; for his 180,000 troops "contained" scarcely more than their own numbers of Germans.

On the other hand, Osman's force brought three times its number of Russians to a halt for five months before hastily constructed lines. In the opinion of many authorities the Russians did wrong in making the whole campaign depend on Plevna. When it was clear that Osman would cling to the defensive, they might with safety have secretly detached part of the besieging force to help the army of the Czarewitch to drive back the Turks on Shumla. This would have involved no great risk; for the Russians occupied the inner lines of what was, roughly speaking, a triangle, resting on the Shipka Pass, the River Lom, and Plevna as its extreme points. Having the advantage of the inner position, they could quickly have moved part of their force at Plevna, battered in the Turkish defence on the Lom, and probably captured the Slievno passes. In that case they would have cleared a new line of advance to Constantinople farther to the east, and made the possession of Plevna of little worth. Its value always lay in its nearness to their main line of advance, but they were not tied to that line. It is safe to say that, if Moltke had directed their operations, he would have devised some better plan than that of hammering away at the redoubts of Plevna.

In fact, the Russians made three great blunders: first, in neglecting to occupy Plevna betimes; second, in underrating Osman's powers of defence; third, in concentrating all their might on what was a very strong, but not an essential, point of the campaign.

The closing scenes of the war are of little interest except in the domain of diplomacy. Servia having declared war against Turkey immediately after the fall of Plevna, the Turks were now hopelessly outnumbered. Gurko forced his way over one of the western passes of the Balkans, seized Sofia (January 4, 1878), and advancing quickly towards Philippopolis, utterly routed Suleiman's main force near that town (January 17). The Turkish commander-in-chief thus paid for his mistake in seeking to defend a mountain chain with several passes by distributing his army among those passes. Experience has proved that this invites disaster at the hands of an enterprising foe, and that the true policy is to keep light troops or scouts at all points, and the main forces at a chief central pass and at a convenient place in the rear, whence the invaders may be readily assailed before they complete the crossing. As it was, Suleiman saw his main force, still nearly 50,000 strong, scatter over the Rhodope mountains; many of them reached the Aegean Sea at Enos, whence they were conveyed by ship to the Dardanelles. He himself was tried by court-martial and imprisoned for fifteen years[153].

[Footnote 153: Sir N. Layard attributed to him the overthrow of Turkey. See his letter of February 1, 1878, in Sir W. White: Life and Correspondence, p. 127.] A still worse fate befell those of his troops which hung about Radetzky's front below the Shipka Pass. The Russians devised skilful moves for capturing this force. On January 5-8 Prince Mirsky threaded his way with a strong column through the deep snows of the Travna Pass, about twenty-five miles east of the Shipka, which he then approached; while Skobeleff struggled through a still more difficult defile west of the central position. The total strength of the Russians was 56,000 men. On the 8th, when their cannon were heard thundering in the rear of the Turkish earthworks at the foot of the Shipka Pass, Radetzky charged down on the Turkish positions in front, while Mirsky assailed them from the east. Skobeleff meanwhile had been detained by the difficulties of the path and the opposition of the Turks on the west. But on the morrow his onset on the main Turkish positions carried all before it. On all sides the Turks were worsted and laid down their arms; 36,000 prisoners and 93 guns (so the Russians claim) were the prize of this brilliant feat (January 9, 1878)[154].

[Footnote 154: Greene, op. cit. chap. xi. I have been assured by an Englishman serving with the Turks that these numbers were greatly exaggerated.]

In Roumelia, as in Armenia, there now remained comparatively few Turkish troops to withstand the Russian advance, and the capture of Constantinople seemed to be a matter of a few weeks. There are grounds for thinking that the British Ministry, or certainly its chief, longed to send troops from Malta to help in its defence. Colonel Wellesley, British attache at the Russian headquarters, returned to London at the time when the news of the crossing of the Balkans reached the Foreign Office. At once he was summoned to see the Prime Minister, who inquired eagerly as to the length of time which would elapse before the Russians occupied Adrianople. The officer thought that that event might occur within a month—an estimate which proved to be above the mark. Lord Beaconsfield was deeply concerned to hear this and added, "If you can only guarantee me six weeks, I see my way." He did not further explain his meaning; but Colonel Wellesley felt sure that he wished to move British troops from Malta to Constantinople[155]. Fortunately the Russian advance to Adrianople was so speedy—their vanguard entered that city on January 20—as to dispose of any such project. But it would seem that only the utter collapse of the Turkish defence put an end to the plans of part at least of the British Cabinet for an armed intervention on behalf of Turkey.

[Footnote 155: With the Russians in Peace and War, by Colonel F.A. Wellesley, p. 272.]

Here, then, as at so many points of their history, the Turks lost their opportunity, and that, too, through the incapacity and corruption of their governing class. The war of 1877 ended as so many of their wars had ended. Thanks to the bravery of their rank and file and the mistakes of the invaders, they gained tactical successes at some points; but they failed to win the campaign owing to the inability of their Government to organise soundly on a great scale, and the intellectual mediocrity of their commanders in the sphere of strategy. Mr. Layard, who succeeded Sir Henry Elliot at Constantinople early in 1878, had good reason for writing, "The utter rottenness of the present system has been fully revealed by the present war[156]." Whether Suleiman was guilty of perverse obstinacy, or, as has often been asserted, of taking bribes from the Russians, cannot be decided. What is certain is that he was largely responsible for the final debacle.

[Footnote 156: Sir William White: Life and Correspondence, p. 128.]

But in a wider and deeper sense the Turks owed their misfortunes to themselves—to their customs and their creed. Success in war depends ultimately on the brain-power of the chief leaders and organisers; and that source of strength has long ago been dried up in Turkey by adhesion to a sterilising creed and cramping traditions. The wars of the latter half of the nineteenth century are of unique interest, not only because they have built up the great national fabrics of to-day, but also because they illustrate the truth of that suggestive remark of the great Napoleon, "The general who does great things is he who also possesses qualities adapted for civil life."



CHAPTER IX

THE BALKAN SETTLEMENT

New hopes should animate the world; new light Should dawn from new revealings to a race Weighed down so long, forgotten so long.

ROBERT BROWNING, Paracelsus.

The collapse of the Turkish defence in Roumelia inaugurated a time of great strain and stress in Anglo-Russian relations. On December 13, 1877, that is, three days after the fall of Plevna, Lord Derby reminded the Russian Government of its promise of May 30, 1876, that the acquisition of Constantinople was excluded from the wishes and intentions of the Emperor Alexander II., and expressed the earnest hope that the Turkish capital would not be occupied, even for military purposes. The reply of the Russian Chancellor (December 16) was reserved. It claimed that Russia must have full right of action, which is the right of every belligerent, and closed with a request for a clearer definition of the British interests which would be endangered by such a step. In his answer of January 13, 1878, the British Foreign Minister specified the occupation of the Dardanelles as an event that would endanger the good relations between England and Russia; whereupon Prince Gortchakoff, on January 16, 1878, gave the assurance that this step would not be taken unless British forces were landed at Gallipoli, or Turkish troops were concentrated there.

So far this was satisfactory; but other signs seemed to betoken a resolve on the part of Russia to gain time while her troops pressed on towards Constantinople. The return of the Czar to St. Petersburg after the fall of Plevna had left more power in the hands of the Grand Duke Nicholas and of the many generals who longed to revenge themselves for the disasters in Bulgaria by seizing Constantinople.

In face of the probability of this event, public opinion in England underwent a complete change. Russia appeared no longer as the champion of oppressed Christians, but as an ambitious and grasping Power. Mr. Gladstone's impassioned appeals for non-intervention lost their effect, and a warlike feeling began to prevail. The change of feeling was perfectly natural. Even those who claimed that the war might have been averted by the adoption of a different policy by the Beaconsfield Cabinet, had to face the facts of the situation; and these were extremely grave.

The alarm increased when it was known that Turkey, on January 3, 1878, had appealed to the Powers for their mediation, and that Germany had ostentatiously refused. It seemed probable that Russia, relying on the support of Germany, would endeavour to force her own terms on the Porte. Lord Loftus, British Ambassador at St. Petersburg, was therefore charged to warn the Ministers of the Czar (January 16) that any treaty made separately between Russia and Turkey, which affected the international treaties of 1856 and 1871, would not be valid without the consent of all the signatory Powers. Four days later the Muscovite vanguard entered Adrianople, and it appeared likely that peace would soon be dictated at Constantinople without regard to the interests of Great Britain and Austria.

Such was the general position when Parliament met at Westminster on January 17. The Queen's Speech contained the significant phrase that, should hostilities be unfortunately prolonged, some unexpected occurrence might render it incumbent to adopt measures of precaution. Five days later it transpired that the Sultan had sent an appeal to Queen Victoria for her mediation with a view to arranging an armistice and the discussion of the preliminaries of peace. In accordance with this appeal, the Queen telegraphed to the Emperor of Russia in these terms:—

I have received a direct appeal from the Sultan which I cannot leave without an answer. Knowing that you are sincerely desirous of peace, I do not hesitate to communicate this fact to you, in hope that you may accelerate the negotiations for the conclusion of an armistice which may lead to an honourable peace.

This communication was sent with the approval of the Cabinet. The nature of the reply is not known. Probably it was not encouraging; for on the next day (January 23) the British Admiralty ordered Admiral Hornby with the Mediterranean fleet to steam up the Dardanelles to Constantinople. On the following day this was annulled, and the Admiral was directed not to proceed beyond Besika Bay[157]. The original order was the cause of the resignation of Lord Carnarvon. The retirement of Lord Derby was also announced, but he afterwards withdrew it, probably on condition that the fleet did not enter the Sea of Marmora.

[Footnote 157: For the odd mistake in a telegram, which caused the original order, see Sir Stafford Northcote, Earl of Iddesleigh, by Andrew Lang, vol. ii. pp. 111-112.]

Light was thus thrown on the dissensions in the Cabinet, and the vacillations in British policy. Disraeli once said in his whimsical way that there were six parties in the Ministry. The first party wanted immediate war with Russia; the second was for war in order to save Constantinople; the third was for peace at any price; the fourth would let the Russians take Constantinople and then turn them out; the fifth wanted to plant the cross on the dome of St. Sofia; "and then there are the Prime Minister and the Chancellor of the Exchequer, who desire to see something done, but don't know exactly what[158]." The coupling of himself with the amiable Sir Stafford Northcote is a good instance of Disraelian irony. It is fairly certain that he was for war with Russia; that Lord Carnarvon constituted the third party, and Lord Derby the fourth.

[Footnote 158: Ibid. pp. 105-106. For the telegrams between the First Lord of the Admiralty, W.H. Smith, and Admiral Hornby, see Life and Times of W.H. Smith, by Sir H. Maxwell, vol. i. chap. xi.]

On the day after the resignation of Lord Carnarvon, the British Cabinet heard for the first time what were the demands of Russia. They included the formation of a Greater Bulgaria, "within the limits of the Bulgarian nationality," practically independent of the Sultan's direct control; the entire independence of Roumania, Servia, and Montenegro; a territorial and pecuniary indemnity to Russia for the expenses of the war; and "an ulterior understanding for safeguarding the rights and interests of Russia in the Straits."

The extension of Bulgaria to the shores of the Aegean seemed at that time a mighty triumph for Russian influence; but it was the last item, vaguely foreshadowing the extension of Russian influence to the Dardanelles, that most aroused the alarm of the British Cabinet. Russian control of those straits would certainly have endangered Britain's connections with India by way of the Suez Canal, seeing that we then had no foothold in Egypt. Accordingly, on January 28, the Ministry proposed to Parliament the voting of an additional sum of L6,000,000 towards increasing the armaments of the country. At once there arose strong protests against this proposal, especially from the districts then suffering from the prolonged depression of trade. The outcry was very natural; but none the less it can scarcely be justified in view of the magnitude of the British interests then at stake. Granted that the views of the Czar were pacific, those of his generals at the seat of war were very much open to question[159]. The long coveted prize of Constantinople, or the Dardanelles, was likely to tempt them to disregard official orders from St. Petersburg, unless they knew that any imprudent step would bring on a European war. In any case, the vote of L6,000,000 was a precautionary measure; and it probably had the effect of giving pause to the enthusiasts at the Russian headquarters.

[Footnote 159: See the compromising revelations made by an anonymous Russian writer in the Revue de Paris for July 15, 1897. The authoress, "O.K.," in her book, The Friends and Foes of Russia (pp. 240-241), states that only the autocracy could have stayed the Russian advance on Constantinople. General U.S. Grant told her that if he had had such an order, he would have put it in his pocket and produced it again when in Constantinople.]

The preliminary bases of peace between Russia and Turkey were signed at Adrianople (Jan. 31) on the terms summarised above, except that the Czar's Ministers now withdrew the obnoxious clause about the Straits. A line of demarcation was also agreed on between the hostile forces; it passed from Derkos, a lake near the Black Sea, to the north of Constantinople, in a southerly direction by the banks of the Karasou stream as far as the Sea of Marmora. This gave to the Russians the lines of Tchekmedje, the chief natural defence of Constantinople, and they occupied this position on February 6. This fact was reported by Mr. Layard, Sir Henry Elliot's successor at Constantinople, in alarmist terms, and it had the effect of stilling the opposition at Westminster to the vote of credit. Though official assurances of a reassuring kind came from Prince Gortchakoff at St. Petersburg, the British Ministry on February 7 ordered a part of the Mediterranean fleet to enter the Sea of Marmora for the defence of British interests and the protection of British subjects at Constantinople. The Czar's Government thereupon declared that if the British fleet steamed up the Bosporus, Russian troops would enter Constantinople for the protection of the Christian population.

This rivalry in philanthropic zeal was not pushed to its logical issue, war. The British fleet stopped short of the Bosporus, but within sight of the Russian lines. True, these were pushed eastwards slightly beyond the limits agreed on with the Turks; but an arrangement was arrived at between Lord Derby and Prince Gortchakoff (Feb. 19) that the Russians would not occupy the lines of Bulair close to Constantinople, or the Peninsula of Gallipoli commanding the Dardanelles, provided that British forces were not landed in that important strait[160]. So matters rested, both sides regarding each other with the sullenness of impotent wrath. As Bismarck said, a war would have been a fight between an elephant and a whale.

[Footnote 160: Hertslet, iv. p. 2670.]

The situation was further complicated by an invasion of Thessaly by the Greeks (Feb. 3); but they were withdrawn at once on the urgent remonstrance of the Powers, coupled with a promise that the claims of Greece would be favourably considered at the general peace[161].

[Footnote 161: L. Sergeant, Greece in the Nineteenth Century (1897), ch. xi.]

In truth, all the racial hatreds, aspirations, and ambitions that had so long been pent up in the south-east of Europe now seemed on the point of bursting forth and overwhelming civilisation in a common ruin. Just as the earth's volcanic forces now and again threaten to tear their way through the crust, so now the immemorial feuds of Moslems and Christians, of Greeks, Servians, Bulgars, Wallachs, and Turks, promised to desolate the slopes of the Balkans, of Rhodope and the Pindus, and to spread the lava tide of war over the half of the Continent. The Russians and Bulgars, swarming over Roumelia, glutted their revenge for past defeats and massacres by outrages well-nigh as horrible as that of Batak. At once the fierce Moslems of the Rhodope Mountains rose in self-defence or for vengeance. And while the Russian eagles perforce checked their flight within sight of Stamboul, the Greeks and Armenians of that capital—nay, the very occupants of the foreign embassies—trembled at sight of the lust of blood that seized on the vengeful Ottomans.

Nor was this all. Far away beyond the northern horizon the war cloud hung heavily over the Carpathians. The statesmen of Vienna, fearing that the terms of their bargain with Russia were now forgotten in the intoxication of her triumph, determined to compel the victors to lay their spoils before the Great Powers. In haste the Austrian and Hungarian troops took station on the great bastion of the Carpathians, and began to exert on the military situation the pressure which had been so fatal to Russia in her Turkish campaign of 1854.

But though everything betokened war, there were forces that worked slowly but surely for a pacific settlement. However threatening was the attitude of Russia, her rulers really desired peace. The war had shown once again the weakness of that Power for offence. Her strength lies in her boundless plains, in the devotion of her millions of peasants to the Czar, and in the patient, stubborn strength which is the outcome of long centuries of struggle with the yearly tyrant, winter. Her weakness lies in the selfishness, frivolity, corruption, and narrowness of outlook of her governing class—in short, in their incapacity for organisation. Against the steady resisting power of her peasants the great Napoleon had hurled his legions in vain. That campaign of 1812 exhibited the strength of Russia for defence. But when, in fallacious trust in that precedent, she has undertaken great wars far from her base, failure has nearly always been the result. The pathetic devotion of her peasantry has not made up for the mental and moral defects of her governing classes. This fact had fixed itself on every competent observer in 1877. The Emperor Alexander knew it only too well. Now, early in 1878, it was fairly certain that his army would succumb under the frontal attacks of Turks and British, and the onset of the Austrians on their rear.

Therefore when, on Feb. 4, the Hapsburg State proposed to refer the terms of peace to a Conference of the Powers at Vienna, the consent of Russia was almost certain, provided that the prestige of the Czar remained unimpaired. Three days later the place of meeting was changed to Berlin, the Conference also becoming a Congress, that is, a meeting where the chief Ministers of the Powers, not merely their Ambassadors, would take part. The United Kingdom, France, and Italy at once signified their assent to this proposal. As for Bismarck, he promised in a speech to the Reichstag (Feb. 19) that he would act as an "honest broker" between the parties most nearly concerned. There is little doubt that Russia took this in a sense favourable to her claims, and she, too, consented.

Nevertheless, she sought to tie the hands of the Congress by binding Turkey to a preliminary treaty signed on March 3 at San Stefano, a village near to Constantinople. The terms comprised those stated above (p. 225), but they also stipulated the cession of frontier districts to Servia and Montenegro, while Russia was to acquire the Roumanian districts east of the River Pruth, Roumania receiving the Dobrudscha as an equivalent. Most serious of all was the erection of Bulgaria into an almost independent Principality, extending nearly as far south as Midia (on the Black Sea), Adrianople, Salonica, and beyond Ochrida in Albania. As will be seen by reference to the map (p. 239), this Principality would then have comprised more than half of the Balkan Peninsula, besides including districts on the AEgean Sea and around the town of Monastir, for which the Greeks have never ceased to cherish hopes. A Russian Commissioner was to supervise the formation of the government for two years; all the fortresses on the Danube were to be razed, and none others constructed; Turkish forces were required entirely to evacuate the Principality, which was to be occupied by Russian troops for a space of time not exceeding two years.

On her side, Turkey undertook to grant reforms to the Armenians, and protect them from Kurds and Circassians, Russia further claimed 1,410,000,000 roubles as war indemnity, but consented to take the Dobrudscha district (offered to Roumania, as stated above), and in Asia the territories of Batoum, Kars, Ardahan, and Bayazid, in lieu of 1,100,000,000 roubles. The Porte afterwards declared that it signed this treaty under persistent pressure from the Grand Duke Nicholas and General Ignatieff, who again and again declared that otherwise the Russians would advance on the capital[162].

[Footnote 162: For the text of the treaty see Parl. Papers, Turkey, No. 22 (1878); also The European Concert in the Eastern Question by T.E. Holland, pp. 335-348.]

At once, from all parts of the Balkan Peninsula, there arose a chorus of protests against the Treaty of San Stefano. The Mohammedans of the proposed State of Bulgaria protested against subjection to their former helots. The Greeks saw in the treaty the death-blow to their hopes of gaining the northern coasts of the Aegean and a large part of Central Macedonia. They fulminated against the Bulgarians as ignorant peasants, whose cause had been taken up recently by Russia for her own aggrandisement[163]. The Servians were equally indignant. They claimed, and with justice, that their efforts against the Turks should be rewarded by an increase of territory which would unite to them their kinsfolk in Macedonia and part of Bosnia, and place them on an equality with the upstart State of Bulgaria. Whereas the treaty assigned to these proteges of Russia districts inhabited solely by Servians, thereby barring the way to any extension of that Principality.

[Footnote 163: Parl. Papers, Turkey, No. 31 (1878), Nos. 6-17, and enclosures; L'Hellenisme et la Macedonie, by N. Kasasis (Paris, 1904); L. Sergeant, op. cit. ch. xii.]

Still more urgent was the protest of the Roumanian Government. In return for the priceless services rendered by his troops at Plevna, Prince Charles and his Ministers were kept in the dark as to the terms arranged between Russia and Turkey. The Czar sent General Ignatieff to prepare the Prince for the news, and sought to mollify him by the hint that he might become also Prince of Bulgaria—a suggestion which was scornfully waved aside. The Government at Bukharest first learnt the full truth as to the Bessarabia-Dobrudscha exchange from the columns of the Journal du St. Petersbourg, which proved that the much-prized Bessarabian territory was to be bargained away by the Power which had solemnly undertaken to uphold the integrity of the Principality. The Prince, the Cabinet, and the people unanimously inveighed against this proposal. On Feb. 4 the Roumanian Chamber of Deputies declared that Roumania would defend its territory to the last, by armed force if necessary; but it soon appeared that none of the Powers took any interest in the matter, and, thanks to the prudence of Prince Charles, the proud little nation gradually schooled itself to accept the inevitable[164].

[Footnote 164: Parl. Papers, Turkey, No. 30 (1878); also Reminiscences of the King of Roumania, chs. x. xi.]

The peace of Europe now turned on the question whether the Treaty of San Stefano would be submitted as a whole to the Congress of the Powers at Berlin; England claimed that it must be so submitted. This contention, in its extreme form, found no support from any of the Powers, not even from Austria, and it met with firm opposition from Russia. She, however, assured the Viennese Court that the Congress would decide which of the San Stefano terms affected the interests of Europe and would pronounce on them. The Beaconsfield Cabinet later on affirmed that "every article in the treaty between Russia and Turkey will be placed before the Congress—not necessarily for acceptance, but in order that it may be considered what articles require acceptance or concurrence by the several Powers and what do not[165]."

[Footnote 165: Lord Derby to Sir H. Elliot, March 13, 1878. Turkey, No. xxiv. (1878), No 9, p. 5.]

When this much was conceded, there remained no irreconcilable difference, unless the treaty contained secret articles which Russia claimed to keep back from the Congress. As far as we know, there were none. But the fact is that the dispute, small as it now appears to us, was intensified by the suspicions and resentment prevalent on both sides. The final decision of the St. Petersburg Government was couched in somewhat curt and threatening terms: "It leaves to the other Powers the liberty of raising such questions at the Congress as they may think it fit to discuss, and reserves to itself the liberty of accepting, or not accepting, the discussion of these questions[166]."

[Footnote 166: Ibid. No. 15, p. 7.]

This haughty reply, received at Downing Street on March 27, again brought the two States to the verge of war. Lord Beaconsfield, and all his colleagues but one, determined to make immediate preparations for the outbreak of hostilities; while Lord Derby, clinging to the belief that peace would best be preserved by ordinary negotiations, resigned the portfolio for foreign affairs (March 28); two days later he was succeeded by the Marquis of Salisbury[167]. On April 1 the Prime Minister gave notice of motion that the reserves of the army and militia should be called out; and on the morrow Lord Salisbury published a note for despatch to foreign courts summarising the grounds of British opposition to the Treaty of San Stefano, and to Russia's contentions respecting the Congress.

[Footnote 167: See p. 243 for Lord Derby's further reason for resigning.]

Events took a still more threatening turn fifteen days later, when the Government ordered eight Indian regiments, along with two batteries of artillery, to proceed at once to Malta. The measure aroused strong differences of opinion, some seeing in it a masterly stroke which revealed the greatness of Britain's resources, while the more nervous of the Liberal watch-dogs bayed forth their fears that it was the beginning of a Strafford-like plot for undermining the liberties of England.

So sharp were the differences of opinion in England, that Russia would perhaps have disregarded the threats of the Beaconsfield Ministry had she not been face to face with a hostile Austria. The great aim of the Czar's government was to win over the Dual Monarchy by offering a share of the spoils of Turkey. Accordingly, General Ignatieff went on a mission to the continental courts, especially to that of Vienna, and there is little doubt that he offered Bosnia to the Hapsburg Power. That was the least which Francis Joseph and Count Andrassy had the right to expect, for the secret compact made before the war promised them as much. In view of the enormous strides contemplated by Russia, they now asked for certain rights in connection with Servia and Montenegro, and commercial privileges that would open a way to Salonica[168]. But Russia's aims, as expressed at San Stefano, clearly were to dominate the Greater Bulgaria there foreshadowed, which would probably shut out Austria from political and commercial influence over the regions north of Salonica. Ignatieff's effort to gain over Austria therefore failed; and it was doubtless Lord Beaconsfield's confidence in the certainty of Hapsburg support in case of war that prompted his defiance alike of Russia and of the Liberal party at home.

[Footnote 168: Debidour, Hist. diplomatique de l'Europe, vol. ii. p. 515.]

The Czar's Government also was well aware of the peril of arousing a European war. Nihilism lifted its head threateningly at home; and the Russian troops before Constantinople were dying like flies in autumn. The outrages committed by them and the Bulgarians on the Moslems of Roumelia had, as we have seen, led to a revolt in the district of Mount Rhodope; and there was talk in some quarters of making a desperate effort to cut off the invaders from the Danube[169]. The discontent of the Roumanians might have been worked upon so as still further to endanger the Russian communications. Probably the knowledge of these plans and of the warlike preparations of Great Britain induced the Russian Government to moderate its tone. On April 9 it expressed a wish that Lord Salisbury would formulate a definite policy.

[Footnote 169: For these outrages, see Parl. Papers, Turkey (1878), Nos. 42 and 45, with numerous enclosures. The larger plans of the Rhodope insurgents and their abettors at Constantinople are not fully known. An Englishman, Sinclair, and some other free-lances were concerned in the affair. The Rhodope district long retained a kind of independence, see Les Evenements politiques en Bulgarie, by A.G. Drandar, Appendix.]

The new Foreign Minister speedily availed himself of this offer; and the cause of peace was greatly furthered by secret negotiations which he carried on with Count Shuvaloff. The Russian ambassador in London had throughout bent his great abilities to a pacific solution of the dispute, and, on finding out the real nature of the British objections to the San Stefano Treaty, he proceeded to St. Petersburg to persuade the Emperor to accept certain changes. In this he succeeded, and on his return to London was able to come to an agreement with Lord Salisbury (May 30), the chief terms of which clearly foreshadowed those finally adopted at Berlin.

In effect they were as follows: The Beaconsfield Cabinet strongly objected to the proposed wide extension of Bulgaria at the expense of other nationalities, and suggested that the districts south of the Balkans, which were peopled almost wholly by Bulgarians, should not be wholly withdrawn from Turkish control, but "should receive a large measure of administrative self-government . . . with a Christian governor." To these proposals the Russian Government gave a conditional assent. Lord Salisbury further claimed that the Sultan should have the right "to canton troops on the frontiers of southern Bulgaria"; and that the militia of that province should be commanded by officers appointed by the Sultan with the consent of Europe. England also undertook to see that the cause of the Greeks in Thessaly and Epirus received the attention of all the Powers, in place of the intervention of Russia alone on their behalf, as specified in the San Stefano Treaty.

Respecting the cession of Roumanian Bessarabia to Russia, on which the Emperor Alexander had throughout insisted (see page 205), England expressed "profound regret" at that demand, but undertook not to dispute it at the Congress. On his side the Emperor Alexander consented to restore Bayazid in Asia Minor to the Turks, but insisted on the retention of Batoum, Kars, and Ardahan. Great Britain acceded to this, but hinted that the defence of Turkey in Asia would thenceforth rest especially upon her—a hint to prepare Russia for the Cyprus Convention.

For at this same time the Beaconsfield Cabinet had been treating secretly with the Sublime Porte. When Lord Salisbury found out that Russia would not abate her demands for Batoum, Ardahan, and Kars, he sought to safeguard British interests in the Levant by acquiring complete control over the island of Cyprus. His final instructions to Mr. Layard to that effect were telegraphed on May 30, that is, on the very day on which peace with Russia was practically assured[170]. The Porte, unaware of the fact that there was little fear of the renewal of hostilities, agreed to the secret Cyprus Convention on June 4; while Russia, knowing little or nothing as to Britain's arrangement with the Porte, acceded to the final arrangements for the discussion of Turkish affairs at Berlin. It is not surprising that this manner of doing business aroused great irritation both at St. Petersburg and Constantinople. Count Shuvaloff's behaviour at the Berlin Congress when the news came out proclaimed to the world that he considered himself tricked by Lord Beaconsfield; while that statesman disdainfully sipped nectar of delight that rarely comes to the lips even of the gods of diplomacy.

[Footnote 170: Parl. Papers, Turkey, No. 36 (1878). See, too, ibid. No. 43.]

The terms of the Cyprus Convention were to the effect that, if Russia retained the three districts in Asia Minor named above, or any of them (as it was perfectly certain that she would); or if she sought to take possession of any further Turkish territory in Asia Minor, Great Britain would help the Sultan by force of arms. He, on his side assigned to Great Britain the island of Cyprus, to be occupied and administered by her. He further promised "to introduce necessary reforms, to be agreed upon later between the two Powers, into the government, and for the protection of the Christian and other subjects of the Porte in these territories." On July I Britain also covenanted to pay to the Porte the surplus of revenue over expenditure in Cyprus, calculated upon the average of the last five years, and to restore Cyprus to Turkey if Russia gave up Kars and her other acquisitions[171].

[Footnote 171: Parl. Papers, Turkey, No. 36 (1878); Hertslet, vol. iv. pp. 2722-2725; Holland, op. cit., pp. 354-356.]

Fortified by the secret understanding with Russia, and by the equally secret compact with Turkey, the British Government could enter the Congress of the Powers at Berlin with complete equanimity. It is true that news as to the agreement with Russia came out in a London newspaper which at once published a general description of the Anglo-Russian agreement of May 30; and when the correctness of the news was stoutly denied by Ministers, the original deed was given to the world by the same newspaper on June 14; but again vigorous disclaimers and denials were given from the ministerial bench in Parliament[172]. Thus, when Lords Beaconsfield and Salisbury proceeded to Berlin for the opening of the Congress (June 13), they were believed to hold the destinies of the British Empire in their hands, and the world waited with bated breath for the scraps of news that came from that centre of diplomacy.

[Footnote 172: Mr. Charles Marvin, a clerk in the Foreign Office, was charged with this offence, but the prosecution failed (July 16) owing to lack of sufficient evidence.]

On various details there arose sharp differences which the tactful humour of the German Chancellor could scarcely set at rest. The fate of nations seemed to waver in the balance when Prince Gortchakoff gathered up his maps and threatened to hurry from the room, or when Lord Beaconsfield gave pressing orders for a special train to take him back to Calais; but there seemed good grounds for regarding these incidents rather as illustrative of character, or of the electioneering needs of a sensational age, than as throes in the birth of nationalities. The "Peace with honour," which the Prime Minister on his return announced at Charing Cross to an admiring crowd, had virtually been secured at Downing Street before the end of May respecting all the great points in dispute between England and Russia.

We know little about the inner history of the Congress of Berlin, which is very different from the official Protocols that half reveal and half conceal its debates. One fact and one incident claim attention as serving to throw curious sidelights on policy and character respectively. The Emperor William had been shot at and severely wounded by a socialist fanatic, Dr. Nobiling, on June 2, 1878, and during the whole time of the Congress the Crown Prince Frederick acted as regent of the Empire. Limited as his powers were by law, etiquette, and Bismarck, he is said to have used them on behalf of Austria and England. The old Emperor thought so; for in a moment of confiding indiscretion he hinted to the Princess Radziwill (a Russian by birth) that Russian interests would have fared better at Berlin had he then been steering the ship of State[173]. Possibly this explains why Bismarck always maintained that he had done what he could for his Eastern neighbour, and that he really deserved a Russian decoration for his services during the Congress.

[Footnote 173: Princess Radziwill, My Recollections (Eng. ed. 1900), p. 91.]

The incident, which flashes a search-light into character and discloses the recherche joys of statecraft, is also described in the sprightly Memoirs of Princess Radziwill. She was present at a brilliant reception held on the evening of the day when the Cyprus Convention had come to light. Diplomatists and generals were buzzing eagerly and angrily when the Earl of Beaconsfield appeared. A slight hush came over the wasp-like clusters as he made his way among them, noting everything with his restless, inscrutable eyes. At last he came near the Princess, once a bitter enemy, but now captivated and captured by his powers of polite irony. "What are you thinking of," she asked. "I am not thinking at all," he replied, "I am enjoying myself[174]." After that one can understand why Jew-baiting became a favourite sport in Russia throughout the next two decades.

[Footnote 174: Ibid. p. 149.]

We turn now to note the terms of the Treaty of Berlin (July 13, 1878)[175]. The importance of this compact will be seen if its provisions are compared with those of the Treaty of San Stefano, which it replaced. Instead of the greater Bulgaria subjected for two years to Russian control, the Congress ordained that Bulgaria proper should not extend beyond the main chain of the Balkans, thus reducing its extent from 163,000 square kilometres to 64,000, and its population from four millions to a million and a half. The period of military occupation and supervision of the new administration by Russia was reduced to nine months. At the end of that time, and on the completion of the "organic law," a Prince was to be elected "freely" by the population of the Principality. The new State remained under the suzerainty of Turkey, the Sultan confirming the election of the new Prince of Bulgaria, "with the assent of the Powers."

[Footnote 175: For the Protocols, see Parl. Papers, Turkey (1878), No. 39. For the Treaty see ibid. No. 44; also The European Concert in the Eastern Question, by T.E. Holland, pp. 277-307.]

Another important departure from the San Stefano terms was the creation of the Province of Eastern Roumelia, with boundaries shown in the accompanying map. While having a Christian governor, and enjoying the rights of local self-government, it was to remain under "the direct political and military authority of the Sultan, under conditions of administrative autonomy." The Sultan retained the right of keeping garrisons there, though a local militia was to preserve internal order. As will be shown in the next chapter, this anomalous state of things passed away in 1885, when the province threw off Turkish control and joined Bulgaria.

The other Christian States of the Balkans underwent changes of the highest importance. Montenegro lost half of her expected gains, but secured access to the sea at Antivari. The acquisitions of Servia were now effected at the expense of Bulgaria. These decisions were greatly in favour of Austria. To that Power the occupation of Bosnia and Herzegovina was now entrusted for an indefinite period in the interest of the peace of Europe, and she proceeded forthwith to drive a wedge between the Serbs of Servia and Montenegro. It is needless to say that, in spite of the armed opposition of the Mohammedan people of those provinces—which led to severe fighting in July to September of that year—Austria's occupation has been permanent, though nominally they still form part of the Turkish Empire.



Roumania and Servia gained complete independence and ceased to pay tribute to the Sultan, but both States complained of the lack of support accorded to them by Russia, considering the magnitude of their efforts for the Slavonic cause. Roumania certainly fared very badly at the hands of the Power for which it had done yeoman service in the war. The pride of the Roumanian people brooked no thought of accepting the Dobrudscha, a district in great part marshy and thinly populated, as an exchange for a fertile district peopled by their kith and kin. They let the world know that Russia appropriated their Bessarabian district by force, and that they accepted the Dobrudscha as a war indemnity. By dint of pressure exerted at the Congress their envoys secured a southern extension of its borders at the expense of Bulgaria, a proceeding which aroused the resentment of Russia.

The conduct of the Czar's Government in this whole matter was most impolitic. It embittered the relations between the two States and drove the Government of Prince Charles to rely on Austria and the Triple Alliance. That is to say, Russia herself closed the door which had been so readily opened for her into the heart of the Sultan's dominions in 1828, 1854, and 1877[176]. We may here remark that, on the motion of the French plenipotentiaries at the Congress, that body insisted that Jews must be admitted to the franchise in Roumania. This behest of the Powers aroused violent opposition in that State, but was finally, though by no means fully, carried out.

[Footnote 176: Frederick, Crown Prince of Germany, expressed the general opinion in a letter written to Prince Charles after the Berlin Congress: "Russia's conduct, after the manful service you did for that colossal Empire, meets with censure on all sides." (Reminiscences of the King of Roumania, p. 325).]

Another Christian State of the Peninsula received scant consideration at the Congress. Greece, as we have seen, had recalled her troops from Thessaly on the understanding that her claims should be duly considered at the general peace. She now pressed those claims; but, apart from initial encouragement given by Lord Salisbury, she received little or no support. On the motion of the French plenipotentiary, M. Waddington, her desire to control the northern shores of the Aegean and the island of Crete was speedily set aside; but he sought to win for her practically the whole of Thessaly and Epirus. This, however, was firmly opposed by Lord Beaconsfield, who objected to the cession to her of the southern and purely Greek districts of Thessaly and Epirus. He protested against the notion that the plenipotentiaries had come to Berlin in order to partition "a worn-out State" (Turkey). They were there to "strengthen an ancient Empire—essential to the maintenance of peace."

"As for Greece," he said, "States, like individuals, which have a future are in a position to be able to wait." True, he ended by expressing "the hope and even the conviction" that the Sultan would accept an equitable solution of the question of the Thessalian frontier; but the Congress acted on the other sage dictum and proceeded to subject the Hellenes to the educative influences of hope deferred. Protocol 13 had recorded the opinion of the Powers that the northern frontier of Greece should follow the courses of the Rivers Salammaria and Kalamas; but they finally decided to offer their mediation to the disputants only in case no agreement could be framed. The Sublime Porte, as we shall see, improved on the procrastinating methods of the Nestors of European diplomacy[177].

[Footnote 177: See Mr. L. Sergeant's Greece in the Nineteenth Century (1897), ch. xii., for the speeches of the Greek envoys at the Congress; also that of Sir Charles Dilke in the House of Commons in the debate of July 29-August 2, 1878, as to England's desertion of the Greek cause after the ninth session (June 29) of the Berlin Congress.]

As regards matters that directly concerned Turkey and Russia, we may note that the latter finally agreed to forego the acquisition of the Bayazid district and the lands adjoining the caravan route from the Shah's dominions to Erzeroum. The Czar's Government also promised that Batoum should be a free port, and left unchanged the regulations respecting the navigation of the Dardanelles and Bosporus. By a subsequent treaty with Turkey of February 1879 the Porte agreed to pay to Russia a war indemnity of about L32,000,000.

More important from our standpoint are the clauses relating to the good government of the Christians of Turkey. By article 61 of the Treaty of Berlin the Porte bound itself to carry out "the improvements and reforms demanded by local requirements in the provinces inhabited by the Armenians, and to guarantee their security against the Circassians and Kurds." It even added the promise "periodically" to "make known the steps taken to this effect to the Powers who will superintend their application." In the next article Turkey promised to "maintain" the principle of religious liberty and to give it the widest application. Differences of religion were to be no bar to employment in any public capacity, and all persons were to "be admitted, without distinction of religion, to give evidence before the tribunals."

Such was the Treaty of Berlin (July 13, 1878). Viewed in its broad outlines, it aimed at piecing together again the Turkish districts which had been severed at San Stefano; the Bulgars and Serbs who there gained the hope of effecting a real union of those races were now sundered once more, the former in three divisions; while the Serbs of Servia, Bosnia, and Montenegro were wedged apart by the intrusion of the Hapsburg Power. Yet, imperfect though it was in several points, that treaty promised substantial gains for the Christians of Turkey. The collapse of the Sultan's power had been so complete, so notorious, that few persons believed he would ever dare to disregard the mandate of the Great Powers and his own solemn promises stated above. But no one could then foresee the exhibition of weakness and cynicism in the policy of those Powers towards Turkey, which disgraced the polity of Europe in the last decades of the century. The causes that brought about that state of mental torpor in the face of hideous massacres, and of moral weakness displayed by sovereigns and statesmen in the midst of their millions of armed men, will be to some extent set forth in the following chapters.

As regards the welfare of the Christians in Asia Minor, the Treaty of Berlin assigned equal responsibilities to all the signatory Powers. But the British Government had already laid itself under a special charge on their behalf by the terms of the Cyprus Convention quoted above. Five days before that treaty was signed the world heard with a gasp of surprise that England had become practically mistress of Cyprus and assumed some measure of responsibility for the good government of the Christians of Asiatic Turkey. No limit of time was assigned for the duration of the Convention, and apparently it still holds good so far as relates to the material advantages accruing from the possession of that island.

It is needless to say that the Cypriotes have benefited greatly by the British administration; the value of the imports and exports nearly doubled between 1878 and 1888. But this fact does not and cannot dispose of the larger questions opened up as to the methods of acquisition and of the moral responsibilities which it entailed. These at once aroused sharp differences of opinion. Admiration at the skill and daring which had gained for Britain a point of vantage in the Levant and set back Russia's prestige in that quarter was chequered by protests against the methods of secrecy, sensationalism, and self-seeking that latterly had characterised British diplomacy.

One more surprise was still forthcoming. Lord Derby, speaking in the House of Lords on July 18, gave point to these protests by divulging a State secret of no small importance, namely, that one of the causes of his retirement at the end of March was a secret proposal of the Ministry to send an expedition from India to seize Cyprus and one of the Syrian ports with a view to operations against Russia, and that, too, with or without the consent of the Sultan. Whether the Cabinet arrived at anything like a decision in this question is very doubtful. Lord Salisbury stoutly denied the correctness of his predecessor's statement. The papers of Sir Stafford Northcote also show that the scheme at that time came up for discussion, but was "laid aside[178]." Lord Derby, however, stated that he had kept private notes of the discussion; and it is improbable that he would have resigned on a question that was merely mooted and entirely dismissed. The mystery in which the deliberations of the Cabinet are involved, and very rightly involved, broods over this as over so many topics in which Lord Beaconsfield was concerned.

[Footnote 178: Sir Stafford Northcote, vol. ii. p. 108.]

On another and far weightier point no difference of opinion is possible. Viewed by the light of the Cyprus Convention, Britain's responsibility for assuring a minimum of good government for the Christians of Asiatic Turkey is undeniable. Unfortunately it admits of no denial that the duties which that responsibility involves have not been discharged. The story of the misgovernment and massacre of the Armenian Christians is one that will ever redound to the disgrace of all the signatories of the Treaty of Berlin; it is doubly disgraceful to the Power which framed the Cyprus Convention.

A praiseworthy effort was made by the Beaconsfield Government to strengthen British influence and the cause of reform by sending a considerable number of well-educated men as Consuls to Asia Minor, under the supervision of the Consul-General, Sir Charles Wilson. In the first two years they effected much good, securing the dismissal of several of the worst Turkish officials, and implanting hope in the oppressed Greeks and Armenians. Had they been well supported from London, they might have wrought a permanent change. Such, at least, is the belief of Professor Ramsay after several years' experience in Asia Minor.

Unfortunately, the Gladstone Government, which came into power in the spring of 1880, desired to limit its responsibilities on all sides, especially in the Levant. The British Consuls ceased to be supported, and after the arrival of Mr. (now Lord) Goschen at Constantinople in May 1880, as Ambassador Extraordinary, British influence began to suffer a decline everywhere through Turkey, partly owing to the events soon to be described. The outbreak of war in Egypt in 1882 was made a pretext by the British Government for the transference of the Consuls to Egypt; and thereafter matters in Asia Minor slid back into the old ruts. The progress of the Greeks and Armenians, the traders of that land, suffered a check; and the remarkable Moslem revival which the Sultan inaugurated in that year (the year 1300 of the Mohammedan calendar) gradually led up to the troubles and massacres which culminated in the years 1896 and 1897. We may finally note that when the Gladstone Ministry left the field open in Asia Minor, the German Government promptly took possession; and since 1883 the influence of Berlin has more and more penetrated into the Sultan's lands in Europe and Asia[179].

[Footnote 179: See Impressions of Turkey, by Professor W.M. Ramsay (1897), chap. vi.]

The collapse of British influence at Constantinople was hastened on by the efforts made by the Cabinet of London, after Mr. Gladstone's accession to office, on behalf of Greece. It soon appeared that Abdul Hamid and his Ministers would pay no heed to the recommendations of the Great Powers on this head, for on July 20, 1878, they informed Sir Henry Layard of their "final" decision that no Thessalian districts would be given up to Greece. Owing to pressure exerted by the Dufaure-Waddington Ministry in France, the Powers decided that a European Commission should be appointed to consider the whole question. To this the Beaconsfield Government gave a not very willing assent.

The Porte bettered the example. It took care to name as the first place of meeting of the Commissioners a village to the north of the Gulf of Arta which was not discoverable on any map. When at last this mistake was rectified, and the Greek envoys on two occasions sought to steam into the gulf, they were fired on from the Turkish forts. After these amenities, the Commission finally met at Prevesa, only to have its report shelved by the Porte (January-March 1879). Next, in answer to a French demand for European intervention, the Turks opposed various devices taken from the inexhaustible stock of oriental subterfuges. So the time wore on until, in the spring of 1880, the fall of the Beaconsfield Ministry brought about a new political situation.

The new Prime Minister, Mr. Gladstone, was known as the statesman who had given the Ionian Isles to Greece, and who advocated the expulsion of the Turks, "bag and baggage," from Europe. At once the despatches from Downing Street took on a different complexion, and the substitution of Mr. Goschen for Sir Henry Layard at Constantinople enabled the Porte to hear the voice of the British people, undimmed by official checks. A Conference of the Powers met at Berlin to discuss the carrying out of their recommendations on the Greek Question, and of the terms of the late treaty respecting Montenegro.

On this latter affair the Powers finally found it needful to make a joint naval demonstration against the troops of the Albanian League who sought to prevent the handing over of the seaport of Dulcigno to Montenegro, as prescribed by the Treaty of Berlin. But, as happened during the Concert of the Powers in the spring of 1876, a single discordant note sufficed to impair the effect of the collective voice. Then it was England which refused to employ any coercive measures; now it was Austria and Germany, and finally (after the resignation of the Waddington Ministry) France. When the Sultan heard of this discord in the European Concert, his Moslem scruples resumed their wonted sway, and the Albanians persisted in defying Europe.

The warships of the Powers might have continued to threaten the Albanian coast with unshotted cannon to this day, had not the Gladstone Cabinet proposed drastic means for bringing the Sultan to reason. The plan was that the united fleet should steam straightway to Smyrna and land marines for the sequestration of the customs' dues of that important trading centre. Here again the Powers were not of one mind. The three dissentients again hung back; but they so far concealed their refusal, or reluctance, as to leave on Abdul Hamid's mind the impression that a united Christendom was about to seize Smyrna[180]. This was enough. He could now (October 10, 1880) bow his head resignedly before superior force without sinning against the Moslem's unwritten but inviolable creed of never giving way before Christians save under absolute necessity. At once he ordered his troops to carry out the behests of the Powers; and after some fighting, Dervish Pasha drove the Albanians out of Dulcigno, and surrendered it to the Montenegrins (Nov.-Dec. 1880). Such is the official account; but, seeing that the Porte knows how to turn to account the fanaticism and turbulence of the Albanians[181], it may be that their resistance all along was but a device of that resourceful Government to thwart the will of Europe.

[Footnote 180: Life of Gladstone, by J. Morley, vol. iii. p. 9.]

[Footnote 181: See Turkey in Europe, by "Odysseus," p. 434.]

The same threat as to the seizure of the Turkish customs-house at Smyrna sufficed to help on the solution of the Greek Question. The delays and insults of the Turks had driven the Greeks to desperation, and only the urgent remonstrances of the Powers availed to hold back the Cabinet of Athens from a declaration of war. This danger by degrees passed away; but, as usually happens where passions are excited on both sides, every compromise pressed on the litigants by the arbiters presented great difficulty. The Congress of Berlin had recommended the extension of Greek rule over the purely Hellenic districts of Thessaly, assigning as the new boundaries the course of the Rivers Salammaria and Kalamas, the latter of which flows into the sea opposite the Island of Corfu.

Another Conference of the Powers (it was the third) met to decide the details of that proposal; but owing to the change of Government in France, along with other causes, the whole question proved to be very intricate. In the end, the Powers induced the Sultan to sign the Convention of May 24, 1881, whereby the course of the River Arta was substituted for that of the Kalamas.

As a set-off to this proposal, which involved the loss of Jannina and Prevesa for Greece, they awarded to the Hellenes some districts north of the Salammaria which helped partially to screen the town of Larissa from the danger of Turkish inroads[182]. To this arrangement Moslems and Christians sullenly assented. On the whole the Greeks gained 13,200 square kilometres in territory and about 150,000 inhabitants, but their failure to gain several Hellenic districts of Epirus rankled deep in the popular consciousness and prepared the way for the events of 1885 and 1897.

[Footnote 182: The European Concert in the Eastern Question, by T.E. Holland, pp. 60-69.]

These later developments can receive here only the briefest reference. In the former year, when the two Bulgarias framed their union, the Greeks threatened Turkey with war, but were speedily brought to another frame of mind by a "pacific" blockade by the Powers. Embittered by this treatment, the Hellenes sought to push on their cause in Macedonia and Crete through a powerful Society, the "Ethnike Hetairia." The chronic discontent of the Cretans at Turkish misrule and the outrages of the Moslem troops led to grave complications in 1897. At the beginning of that year the Powers intervened with a proposal for the appointment of a foreign gendarmerie (January 1897). In order to defeat this plan the Sultan stirred up Moslem fanaticism in the island, until the resulting atrocities brought Greece into the field both in Thessaly and Crete. During the ensuing strifes in Crete the Powers demeaned themselves by siding against the Christian insurgents, and some Greek troops sent from Athens to their aid. Few events in our age have caused a more painful sensation than the bombardment of Cretan villages by British and French warships. The Powers also proclaimed a "pacific" blockade of Crete (March-May 1897). The inner reasons that prompted these actions are not fully known. It may safely be said that they will need far fuller justification than that which was given in the explanations of Ministers at Westminster.

Meanwhile the passionate resentment felt by the Greeks had dragged the Government of King George into war with Turkey (April 18, 1897). The little kingdom was speedily overpowered by Turks and Albanians; and despite the recall of their troops from Crete, the Hellenes were unable to hold Phersala and other positions in the middle of Thessaly. The Powers, however, intervened on May 12, and proceeded to pare down the exorbitant terms of the Porte, allowing it to gain only small strips in the north of Thessaly, as a "strategic rectification" of the frontier. The Turkish demand of LT10,000,000 was reduced to T4,000,000 (September 18).



This successful war against Greece raised the prestige of Turkey and added fuel to the flames of Mohammedan bigotry. These, as we have seen, had been assiduously fanned by Abdul Hamid II. ever since the year 1882, when a Pan-Islam movement began. The results of this revival were far-reaching, being felt even among the hill tribes on the Afghan-Punjab border (see Chapter XIV.). Throughout the Ottoman Empire the Mohammedans began to assert their superiority over Christians; and, as Professor Ramsay has observed, "the means whereby Turkish power is restored is always the same—massacre[183]."

[Footnote 183: Impressions of Turkey, by W.M. Ramsay, p. 139.]

It would be premature to inquire which of the European Powers must be held chiefly responsible for the toleration of the hideous massacres of the Armenians in 1896-97, and the atrocious misgovernment of Macedonia, by the Turks. All the Great Powers who signed the Berlin Treaty are guilty; and, as has been stated above, the State which framed the Cyprus Convention is doubly guilty, so far as concerns the events in Armenia. A grave share of responsibility also rests with those who succeeded in handing back a large part of Macedonia to the Turks. But the writer who in the future undertakes to tell the story of the decline of European morality at the close of the nineteenth century, and the growth of cynicism and selfishness, will probably pass still severer censures on the Emperors of Germany and Russia, who, with the unequalled influence which they wielded over the Porte, might have intervened with effect to screen their co-religionists from unutterable wrongs, and yet, as far as is known, raised not a finger on their behalf. The Treaty of Berlin, which might have inaugurated an era of good government throughout the whole of Turkey if the Powers had been true to their trust, will be cited as damning evidence in the account of the greatest betrayal of a trust which Modern History records.

* * * * *

NOTE.—For the efforts made by the British Government on behalf of the Armenians, the reader should consult the last chapter of Mr. James Bryce's book, Transcaucasia and Mount Ararat (new edition, 1896). Further information may be expected in the Life of Earl Granville, soon to appear, from the pen of Lord Edmund Fitzmaurice.



CHAPTER X

THE MAKING OF BULGARIA

"If you can help to build up these peoples into a bulwark of independent States and thus screen the 'sick man' from the fury of the northern blast, for God's sake do it."—SIR R. MORIER to SIR W. WHITE, December 27, 1885.

The failure which attended the forward Hellenic movement during the years 1896-97 stands in sharp relief with the fortunes of the Bulgarians. To the rise of this youngest, and not the least promising, of European States, we must devote a whole chapter; for during a decade the future of the Balkan Peninsula and the policy of the Great Powers turned very largely on the emancipation of this interesting race from the effective control of the Sultan and the Czar.

The rise of this enigmatical people affords a striking example of the power of national feeling to uplift the downtrodden. Until the year 1876, the very name Bulgarian was scarcely known except as a geographical term. Kinglake, in his charming work, Eothen, does not mention the Bulgarians, though he travelled on horseback from Belgrade to Sofia and thence to Adrianople. And yet in 1828, the conquering march of the Russians to Adrianople had awakened that people to a passing thrill of national consciousness. Other travellers,—for instance, Cyprien Robert in the "thirties,"—noted their sturdy patience in toil, their slowness to act, but their great perseverance and will-power, when the resolve was formed.

These qualities may perhaps be ascribed to their Tatar (Tartar) origin. Ethnically, they are closely akin to the Magyars and Turks, but, having been long settled on the banks of the Volga (hence their name, Bulgarian = Volgarian), they adopted the speech and religion of the Slavs. They have lived this new life for about a thousand years[184]; and in this time have been completely changed. Though their flat lips and noses bespeak an Asiatic origin, they are practically Slavs, save that their temperament is less nervous, and their persistence greater than that of their co-religionists[185]. Their determined adhesion to Slav ideals and rejection of Turkish ways should serve as a reminder to anthropologists that peoples are not mainly to be judged and divided off by craniological peculiarities. Measurement of skulls may tell us something concerning the basal characteristics of tribes: it leaves untouched the boundless fund of beliefs, thoughts, aspirations, and customs which mould the lives of nations. The peoples of to-day are what their creeds, customs, and hopes have made them; as regards their political life, they have little more likeness to their tribal forefathers than the average man has to the chimpanzee.

[Footnote 184: The Peasant State: Bulgaria in 1894, by E. Dicey, C.B. (1904), p. 11.]

[Footnote 185: Turkey in Europe, by "Odysseus," pp. 28, 356, 367.]

The first outstanding event in the recent rise of the Bulgarian race was the acquisition of spiritual independence in 1869-70. Hitherto they, in common with nearly all the Slavs, had belonged to the Greek Church, and had recognised the supremacy of its Patriarch at Constantinople, but, as the national idea progressed, the Bulgarians sought to have their own Church. It was in vain that the Greeks protested against this schismatic attempt. The Western Powers and Russia favoured it; the Porte also was not loth to see the Christians further divided. Early in the year 1870, the Bulgarian Church came into existence, with an Exarch of its own at Constantinople who has survived the numerous attempts of the Greeks to ban him as a schismatic from the "Universal Church." The Bulgarians therefore took rank with the other peoples of the Peninsula as a religious entity., the Roumanian and Servian Churches having been constituted early in the century. In fact, the Porte recognises the Bulgarians, even in Macedonia, as an independent religious community, a right which it does not accord to the Servians; the latter, in Macedonia, are counted only as "Greeks[186]."

[Footnote 186: Turkey in Europe, by "Odysseus," pp. 280-283, 297; The Peasant State, by E. Dicey, pp. 75-77.]

The Treaty of San Stefano promised to make the Bulgarians the predominant race of the Balkan Peninsula for the benefit of Russia; but, as we have seen, the efforts of Great Britain and Austria, backed by the jealousies of Greeks and Servians, led to a radical change in those arrangements. The Treaty of Berlin divided that people into three unequal parts. The larger mass, dwelling in Bulgaria Proper, gained entire independence of the Sultan, save in the matter of suzerainty; the Bulgarians on the southern slopes of the Balkans acquired autonomy only in local affairs, and remained under the control of the Porte in military affairs and in matters of high policy; while the Bulgarians who dwelt in Macedonia, about 1,120,000 in number, were led to hope something from articles 61 and 62 of the Treaty of Berlin, but remained otherwise at the mercy of the Sultan[187].

[Footnote 187: Recius, Kiepert, Ritter, and other geographers and ethnologists, admit that the majority in Macedonia is Bulgarian.]

This unsatisfactory state of things promised to range the Principality of Bulgaria entirely on the side of Russia, and at the outset the hope of all Bulgarians was for a close friendship with the great Power that had effected their liberation. These sentiments, however, speedily cooled. The officers appointed by the Czar to organise the Principality carried out their task in a high-handed way that soon irritated the newly enfranchised people. Gratitude is a feeling that soon vanishes, especially in political life. There, far more than in private life, it is a great mistake for the party that has conferred a boon to remind the recipient of what he owes, especially if that recipient be young and aspiring. Yet that was the mistake committed everywhere throughout Bulgaria. The army, the public service—everything—was modelled on Russian lines during the time of the occupation, until the overbearing ways of the officials succeeded in dulling the memory of the services rendered in the war. The fact of the liberation was forgotten amidst the irritation aroused by the constant reminders of it.

The Russians succeeded in alienating even the young German prince who came, with the full favour of the Czar Alexander II., to take up the reins of Government. A scion of the House of Hesse Darmstadt by a morganatic marriage, Prince Alexander of Battenberg had been sounded by the Russian authorities, with a view to his acceptance of the Bulgarian crown. By the vote of the Bulgarian Chamber, it was offered to him on April 29, 1879. He accepted it, knowing full well that it would be a thorny honour for a youth of twenty-two years of age. His tall commanding frame, handsome features, ability and prowess as a soldier, and, above all, his winsome address, seemed to mark him out as a natural leader of men; and he received a warm welcome from the Bulgarians in the month of July.

His difficulties began at once. The chief Russian administrator, Dondukoff Korsakoff, had thrust his countrymen into all the important and lucrative posts, thereby leaving out in the cold the many Bulgarians, who, after working hard for the liberation of their land, now saw it transferred from the slovenly overlordship of the Turk to the masterful grip of the Muscovite. The Principality heaved with discontent, and these feelings finally communicated themselves to the sympathetic nature of the Prince. But duty and policy alike forbade him casting off the Russian influence. No position could be more trying for a young man of chivalrous and ambitious nature, endowed with a strain of sensitiveness which he probably derived from his Polish mother. He early set forth his feelings in a private letter to Prince Charles of Roumania:—

Devoted with my whole heart to the Czar Alexander, I am anxious to do nothing that can be called anti-Russian. Unfortunately the Russian officials have acted with the utmost want of tact; confusion prevails in every office, and peculation, thanks to Dondukoff's decrees, is all but sanctioned. I am daily confronted with the painful alternative of having to decide either to assent to the Russian demands or to be accused in Russia of ingratitude and of "injuring the most sacred feelings of the Bulgarians." My position is truly terrible.

The friction with Russia increased with time. Early in the year 1880, Prince Alexander determined to go to St. Petersburg to appeal to the Czar in the hope of allaying the violence of the Panslavonic intriguers. Matters improved for a time, but only because the Prince accepted the guidance of the Czar. Thereafter he retained most of his pro-Russian Ministers, even though the second Legislative Assembly, elected in the spring of that year, was strongly Liberal and anti-Russian. In April 1881 he acted on the advice of one of his Ministers, a Russian general named Ehrenroth, and carried matters with a high hand: he dissolved the Assembly, suspended the constitution, encouraged his officials to browbeat the voters, and thereby gained a docile Chamber, which carried out his behests by decreeing a Septennate, or autocratic rule for seven years. In order to prop up his miniature czardom, he now asked the new Emperor, Alexander III., to send him two Russian Generals. His request was granted in the persons of Generals Soboleff and Kaulbars, who became Ministers of the Interior and for War; a third, General Tioharoff, being also added as Minister of Justice.

The triumph of Muscovite influence now seemed to be complete, until the trio just named usurped the functions of the Bulgarian Ministers and informed the Prince that they took their orders from the Czar, not from him. Chafing at these self-imposed Russian bonds, the Prince now leant more on the moderate Liberals, headed by Karaveloff; and on the Muscovites intriguing in the same quarter, and with the troops, with a view to his deposition, they met with a complete repulse. An able and vigorous young Bulgarian, Stambuloff, was now fast rising in importance among the more resolute nationalists. The son of an innkeeper of Tirnova, he was sent away to be educated at Odessa; there he early became imbued with Nihilist ideas, and on returning to the Danubian lands, framed many plots for the expulsion of the Turks from Bulgaria. His thick-set frame, his force of will, his eloquent, passionate speech, and, above all, his burning patriotism, soon brought him to the front as the leader of the national party; and he now strove with all his might to prevent his land falling to the position of a mere satrapy of the liberators. Better the puny autocracy of Prince Alexander than the very real despotism of the nominees of the Emperor Alexander III.

The character of the new Czar will engage our attention in the following chapter; here we need only say that the more his narrow, hard, and overbearing nature asserted itself, the greater appeared the danger to the liberties of the Principality. At last, when the situation became unbearable, the Prince resolved to restore the Bulgarian constitution; and he took this momentous step, on September 18, 1883, without consulting the three Russian Ministers, who thereupon resigned[188].

[Footnote 188: For the scenes which then occurred, see Le Prince Alexandre de Battenberg en Bulgarie, by A.G. Drandar, pp. 169 et seq.; also A. Koch, Fuerst Alexander von Bulgarien, pp. 144-147.

For the secret aims of Russia, see Documents secrets de la Politique russe en Orient, by R. Leonoff (Berlin, 1893), pp. 49-65. General Soboleff, Der erste Fuerst von Bulgarian (Leipzig, 1896), has given a highly coloured Russian account of all these incidents.]

At once the Prince summoned Karaveloff, and said to him: "My dear Karaveloff—For the second time I swear to thee that I will be entirely submissive to the will of the people, and that I will govern in full accordance with the constitution of Tirnova. Let us forget what passed during the coup d'etat [of 1881], and work together for the prosperity of the country." He embraced him; and that embrace was the pledge of a close union of hearts between him and his people[189].

[Footnote 189: See Laveleye's The Balkan Peninsula, pp. 259-262, for an account of Karaveloff.]

The Czar forthwith showed his anger at this act of independence, and, counting it a sign of defiance, allowed or encouraged his agents in Bulgaria to undermine the power of the Prince, and procure his deposition. For two years they struggled in vain. An attempt by the Russian Generals Soboleff and Kaulbars to kidnap the Prince by night failed, owing to the loyalty of Lieutenant Martinoff, then on duty at his palace; the two ministerial plotters forthwith left Bulgaria[190].