“Yes, we wish peace also,” replied His Majesty. “But it must be a peace that will guarantee the rights of our Empire. I am sure that a civilised and flourishing country like America wants peace, and she should exert all her efforts to bring about a peace that shall be permanent.”
One of the Sultan’s statements in this interview left a lasting impression. This was his assertion that “Russia attacked us.” That the simple-minded old gentleman believed this was apparent; it was also clear that he knew nothing of the real facts—that Turkish warships, under German officers, had plunged Turkey into the war by bombarding Russian seaports. Instead of telling him the truth, the Young Turk leaders had foisted upon the Sultan this fiction of Russia as the aggressor. The interview showed precisely to what extent the ostensible ruler of Turkey was acquainted with the crucial facts in the government of his own Empire.
In our interview Talaat and Enver had not said their final farewells, telling me that they would meet me at the station. A few minutes before the train started Bedri came up, rather pale-faced and excited, and brought me their apologies.
“They cannot come,” he said, “the Crown Prince has just committed suicide!”
I knew the Crown Prince well and I had expected to have him as a fellow-passenger to Berlin; he was about to make a trip to Germany, and his special car was attached to this train. I had seen much of Youssouf Izzeddin; he had several times invited me to call upon him, and we had spent many hours talking over the United States and American institutions, in which subject he had always displayed the keenest interest. Many times had he told me that he would like to introduce certain American governmental ideas in Turkey. The morning when we were leaving for Berlin the Crown Prince was found lying on the floor in his villa, bathed in a pool of blood, with his arteries cut. Youssouf was the son of Abdul-Aziz, Sultan from 1861 to 1876, who, gruesomely enough, had ended his days by opening his arteries forty years before. The circumstances surrounding the death of father and son were thus precisely the same. The fact that Youssouf was strongly pro-Ally, that he had opposed Turkey’s participation in the war on Germany’s side, and that he was extremely antagonistic to the Committee of Union and Progress gave rise to many suspicions. I know nothing about the stories that now went from mouth to mouth, and merely record that the official report on the death was that it was a case of “suicide.”
“On l’a suicidé” (they have suicided him!), remarked a witty Frenchman, when this verdict was reported.
This tragic announcement naturally cast a gloom over our party as our train pulled out of Constantinople, but the journey proved to be full of interest. I was now on the famous Balkanzug, and this was only the second trip which it had made to Berlin. My room was No. 13; several people came to look at it, telling me that, on the outward trip, the train had been shot at, and a window of my apartment broken!
Soon after we started I discovered that Admiral Usedom was one of my fellow-passengers. Usedom had had a distinguished career in the Navy; among other things he had been captain of the Hohenzollern, the Kaiser’s yacht, and thus was upon friendly terms with His Majesty. The last time I had seen Usedom was on my visit to the Dardanelles, where he had been Inspector-General of the Ottoman defences. As soon as we met again the Admiral began to talk about the abortive Allied attack. He again made no secret of the fears which he had then entertained that this attack would succeed.
“Several times,” he said, “we thought that they were on the verge of getting through. All of us down there were very much distressed and depressed over the prospect. We owed much to the heroism of the Turks and their willingness to sacrifice an unlimited number of human lives. It is all over now—that part of our task is finished.”
The Admiral thought that the British landing-party had been badly prepared, though he spoke admiringly of the skill with which the Allies had managed their retreat. I also obtained further light on the German attitude toward the Armenian massacres. Usedom made no attempt to justify them; neither did he blame the Turks. He discussed the whole thing calmly, dispassionately, and merely as a military problem, and one would never have guessed from his remarks that the lives of a million human beings had been involved. He simply said that the Armenians were in the way, that they were an obstacle to German success, and that it had therefore been necessary to remove them, just like so much useless lumber. He spoke about them as detachedly as one would speak about removing a row of houses in order to bombard a city.