On the deposition of Abdul Aziz, his nephew, the eldest son of Abdul Mehzid, much against his will, was proclaimed as Sultan, under the title of Murad V. His feeble mind, reduced to a nullity by long seclusion in the Cage, and by the habit of intemperance, was completely unhinged by this unexpected elevation, and after a few weeks—on August 31, 1876—it became necessary for the committee of ministers who had set him on the throne to depose him in favour of the next heir. His brother, Abdul Hamid II, held the Sultanate for thirty-three years, and is still alive, in the custody of another brother, the present Sultan, after being deposed, in his turn, in 1909.
Abdul Hamid proved to be the most mean, cunning, untrustworthy, and cruel intriguer of the long dynasty of Othman. His mother was an Armenian. He was destitute of physical courage. He lived in constant fear of plots and assassination, and in suspicion of every one about him. He trusted no one, least of all his ministers. He allowed no consultations between them. If he heard that two of them had met in private, his suspicions were aroused and they were called to account. He employed a huge army of spies, who reported to him directly and daily as to the doings of his ministers, of the ambassadors, and of any one else of importance. They fed him with reports, often false, on which he founded his actions. Plots were invented in order to induce him to consent to measures which otherwise he would not have sanctioned. He claimed and exercised the right of secret assassination of his foes or suspected foes. No natives of Turkey were safe. They might disappear at any moment, as so many thousands had done by the order of the Sultan, through some secret agent, either to death or exile. This was not so much from pure wickedness of heart as from fear of being assassinated himself, and the belief that his safety lay in exterminating his enemies before they had the chance of maturing their plans against himself. The ambassadors of foreign Powers had little influence with him, except so far as they were able to threaten the use of armed force, when, sooner than risk war, he gave way. He showed great cunning in playing off one ambassador against another, and was an adept in all the meanest intrigues of diplomacy.
Abdul Hamid’s life was one of incessant labour. He devoted himself most assiduously to the work of his great office. Whatever his demerits, he was absolute master of his ministers and of his State. There never was a more centralized and meticulous despotism. As he trusted no one, he was overwhelmed by most trivial details and graver questions were neglected. He could not, indeed, administer the vast affairs of his Empire without information or advice from others, but no one knew from day to day who was the person on whose advice the Sultan overruled his ostensible ministers, whether a favourite lady of his harem, or a eunuch, or some fanatical dervish, or an astrologer, or a spy. There was constant confusion in the State, arising from antagonism between the officials of the Porte and the minions of the palace.
Outwardly, Abdul Hamid had the manners of a gentleman, but inwardly he was as mean a villain as could be found in the purlieus of his capital. He was avaricious to an extreme, and though his expenditure was most lavish and his charities wide, he amassed immense wealth, which he invested secretly through German bankers against the rainy day which he expected. When it came and he was deposed, amid universal execration and loathing, his life was spared in the hope mainly of extracting from him these secret investments. He was not above receiving bribes himself, on a great scale, from financiers in search of concessions. He did nothing to check the chief evil of Turkish rule—the sale of offices and the necessity for officials to recoup themselves for their outlay by local exactions. Though he was not without some instincts for good government, and was free from any fanaticism, his system was such that everything went to the bad in his reign, and that many years of peace, after the treaty of Berlin, were attended by no improvement in the condition of his people, but the reverse. The result of his policy was that his Empire suffered a greater dismemberment than had been the bad fortune of any of his predecessors, and as he monopolized power, he must be held mainly responsible for its evil results.
At the very outset of his reign Abdul Hamid was confronted with most serious questions affecting the integrity of his Empire. In 1875 an outbreak had occurred in Bosnia and Herzegovina, the result not merely of misgovernment by the Turkish pashas and officials, their rapacity and exactions, and of the system of farming the taxes, but of a vicious agrarian system. The great majority of landowners, though of the same Slav race as the rayas, the cultivators of the soil, were Moslems by religion. Their forbears had become so when the Ottomans conquered their State in order to save their property. They were as rapacious and fanatical as any landowners of Turkish race in any part of the Empire. No Christians were employed in the administration of these provinces. The evidence of the Christian rayas was not admitted in the courts of law. Justice or injustice could only be obtained by bribes. The police and other officials lived by extorting money from those whom it was their duty to defend.
The bad harvest of 1874 was the immediate cause of the outbreak, for the farmers of the taxes refused to make any concessions. It was, in the first instance, directed rather against the Moslem landowners and the local Turkish officials than against the Sultan, but it rapidly developed into a general insurrection against the Sultan’s government. Every effort was made by Austria and Russia to localize it and to induce the Porte to make concessions. Count Andrassy, the Austro-Hungarian Foreign Minister, drew up a scheme for the pacification of the two provinces. It proposed that the system of farming the taxes should be abolished, that the taxes raised in the provinces should be expended locally for their benefit, that complete religious equality should be established, and that a mixed commission should be appointed to supervise the carrying out of these reforms. The scheme was agreed to by Russia, Great Britain, and the other Powers, and was presented to the Sultan, who acquiesced in it. But it proved, like other promises of reform in Turkey, to be a dead letter. Not a single step was taken to give effect to any part of it. The rebellion in the two provinces continued. The insurgents increased their demands. They insisted that one-third of the land should be given up to the rayas. The movement soon extended to Bulgaria, which was seething with disaffection.
On April 21, 1876, an outbreak of Bulgarians occurred on the southern slopes of the Rhodope Mountains, of which Batak was the centre. It was put down without difficulty by a small Turkish force sent from Constantinople, under Achmet Agha, with little loss of life to the troops engaged, but with relentless cruelty, not only to the actual insurgents who surrendered on promise of life, but to the whole population of the district. Bands of Bashi-Bazouks, consisting of Tartars from the Crimea who had been planted in Bulgaria, were let loose on them. Indiscriminate murders, rapes, and rapine took place. Sixty villages were burnt. Twelve hundred persons, mostly women and children, took refuge in a church at Batak and were there burnt alive. In all about twelve thousand persons perished in these brutal reprisals. Achmet Agha received a high decoration from the Sultan for this performance. There was nothing new in this method of dealing with an outbreak by the Porte. It was in accord with its traditional system and policy to wreak vengeance on those revolting by orgies of cruelty, which would strike terror among subject races and act as a warning to them in the future.
What was new in the case of the Bulgarians in 1876, and was fraught with misfortune to the Turkish cause, was that full and graphic accounts of the horrors committed at Batak, written by Mr. Edwin Pears (now Sir Edwin), the correspondent at Constantinople of the Daily News, appeared in the columns of that paper. They produced a profound impression on public opinion in England. Discredit was thrown on the story in the House of Commons by Mr. Disraeli, the Prime Minister, but it was fully confirmed by Mr. MacGahan, another correspondent of the same paper, who visited the district, and later by Mr. Walter Baring, a member of the British Embassy at Constantinople, who, by the direction of the Government, made full personal inquiries on the spot. He described what had taken place as “perhaps the most heinous crime that has stained the history of the present century.”
It was also unfortunate for the Turks that Mr. Gladstone, the only survivor in the House of Commons of the British statesmen responsible for the Crimean War, who had recently retired from the leadership of the Liberal party, was fired by the description of these horrors in Bulgaria to emerge from his retirement and to take up the cause of the Christian population of European Turkey, for which he held that the treaty of Paris had made his country responsible.
Meanwhile the horrors at Batak had also aroused the indignation of Russia and the fears of Austria. A fanatical outbreak of Moslems at Salonika resulted in the murder of the Consuls of France and Germany. Serbia and Montenegro, impelled by sympathy for their fellow Slavs in Bosnia, declared war against Turkey. A Turkish force defeated the Serbians, who appealed to Russia for assistance. At this stage another effort was made by Russia and Austria, supported by Germany, to avert a general conflagration, and a scheme was embodied in what was known as the Berlin Memorandum for compelling the Porte to carry out the reforms which it had admitted to be necessary. The British Government, however, very curtly refused to be a party to the scheme, on the ground that they had not been consulted in framing it and did not believe in its success. About this time also the British fleet in the Mediterranean was ordered to Besika Bay, a step taken avowedly for the purpose of protecting British subjects in the turmoil which had arisen, but which seemed to the Porte to indicate an intention to support them against the demands of the other Powers.