“I shall stay here,” he said, “until the last British subject leaves Turkey.”
But I told him that he was no longer the protector of the British; that I, as American Ambassador, had assumed this responsibility; and that I could hardly assert myself in this capacity if he remained in Constantinople.
“Certainly,” I said, “the Turks would not recognise me as in charge of British interests if you remain here.”
Moreover, I suggested that he remain at Dedeagatch for a few days, and await the arrival of his fellow British. If I did not succeed in getting them out of the country, then he could return. Sir Louis reluctantly accepted my point of view and boarded the train. As the train left the station I caught my final glimpse of the British Ambassador, sitting in his private car, almost buried in a mass of trunks, satchels, boxes, and diplomatic pouches, surrounded by his Embassy staff, and sympathetically watched by his first secretary’s dog.
The unofficial foreigners remained in the station several hours, hoping that, at the last moment, they would be permitted to go. Bedri, however, was inexorable. Their position was almost desperate. They had given up their quarters in Constantinople, and now found themselves practically stranded. Some were taken in by friends for the night, others found accommodation in hotels, but their situation caused the utmost anxiety. Evidently, despite all official promises, Turkey was determined to keep these foreign residents as hostages. On the one hand were Enver and Talaat, telling me that they intended to conduct their war in a humane manner, and, on the other, were their underlings, such as Bedri, behaving in a fashion that negatived all these civilised pretensions. The fact was that the officials were quarrelling among themselves about the treatment of foreigners, and the German General Staff was telling the Cabinet that they were making a great mistake in showing any leniency to their enemy aliens. Finally I succeeded in making arrangements for them to leave the following day. Bedri, in more complaisant mood, spent that afternoon at the Embassy, viséing passports. We both went to the station in the evening and started the train safely to Dedeagatch. I gave a box of candy—“Turkish Delights”—to each one of the fifty women and children on the train; it altogether was a happy party, and they made no attempt to hide their relief at leaving Turkey. At Dedeagatch they met the diplomatic corps, and the reunion that took place, I afterward learned, was extremely touching. I was made happy by receiving many testimonials of their gratitude, in particular a letter, signed by more than a hundred, expressing their thanks to Mrs. Morgenthau, the Embassy Staff, and myself.
There were still several who wished to go, and next day I called on Talaat in their behalf. I found him in one of his most gracious moods. The Cabinet, he said, had carefully considered the whole matter of English and French residents in Turkey, and my arguments, he added, had greatly influenced them. They had reached the formal decision that enemy aliens could leave or remain, as they preferred. There would be no concentration camps, civilians could pursue their usual business in peace, and, so long as they behaved themselves, they would not be molested.
“We proposed to show,” said Talaat, “by our treatment of aliens, that we are not a race of barbarians.”
In return for this promise he asked a favour of me: would I not see that Turkey was praised in the American and European Press for this decision?
After returning to the Embassy I immediately sent for Mr. Theron Damon, correspondent of the Associated Press, Doctor Lederer, correspondent of the Berliner Tageblatt, and Doctor Sandler, who represented the Paris Herald, and gave them interviews, praising the attitude of Turkey toward the foreign residents. I also cabled the news to Washington, London, and Paris, and to all our consuls.
Hardly had I finished with the correspondents when I again received alarming news. I had arranged for another train that evening, and I now heard that the Turks were refusing to visé the passports of those whose departure I had provided for. This news, coming right after Talaat’s explicit promise, was naturally disturbing. I immediately started for the railroad station, and the sight which I saw there increased my anger at the Minister of the Interior. A mass of distracted people filled the enclosure; the women were weeping and the children were screaming, while a platoon of Turkish soldiers, commanded by an undersized popinjay of a major, was driving everybody out of the station with the flat sides of their guns. Bedri, as usual, was there, and, as usual, he was clearly enjoying the confusion. Certain of the passengers, he told me, had not paid their income tax, and, for this reason, they would not be permitted to leave. I announced that I would be personally responsible for this payment.