The life of Midhat Pasha 43

The life of Midhat Pasha 43

Bekir grew pale, but plucking up courage, replied: “I have been present

at several battles; but, apart from war, I have never even cut off the

head of a fowl.” The conversation coming to an end, Bekir went out of

the prisoner’s room, and at once started on his journey to Mecca,

accompanied by the individuals we have already mentioned.

 

On the seventh day after his departure—a Friday evening—we saw him

return to Taïf. To the general surprise he reinstated the servants in

the Pashas’ service. After a few days Haïroullah’s wife also returned

from Djeddah with her baby and the cook. Haïroullah ordered his servant

Ibrahim to look after his household in the town, and contented himself

with the services of a common soldier.

 

The day after his return Bekir once more made his appearance in the

Pashas’ quarters, saying that a new Irade had just been telegraphed

ordering a diminution of the prisoner’s rations and the dismissal of

the cooks. He also presented the greetings from the Vali, who would,

nevertheless, allow them to purchase from the bazaar all that they

needed.

 

Why this toleration? What did it mean, coming after the diminution

of the rations and the dismissal of the cooks? Bekir replied to this

maliciously, stating that such a duty was most unpleasing to him, but

that as a soldier he was compelled to obey his superiors, although he

regretted to be unable to act otherwise.

 

At this time, Midhat Pasha was fortunately almost entirely cured of his

illness, but they still continued to telegraph daily the state of his

health to the Governor‐General.

 

One day Midhat Pasha sent his attendant to the town to buy some milk

from a milkman named Echreff. Immediately on learning this, one of the

officers, told off to guard the prisoners, a certain Nouri, wished to

accompany the soldier to the milkman’s house. On arriving at their

destination, they asked for the milk. Echreff declared that he had only

three _kilos_ of milk, which had been ordered by the General, but

that he would give them one _ock_ at once if it were for the Pasha.

Nouri accepted this offer, and ordered the soldier to take it to Daïra.

This most unexpected and unusual amiability on the part of Nouri was

noticed, and gave rise to suspicions.

 

During the Pasha’s illness, it was Saïd Bey, another prisoner, who

watched over the food prepared by Midhat’s servant, Arif Aga. Saïd Bey

at once took care to examine the can that contained this milk, and

noticed to his surprise that the colour of it was unnatural. He tasted

a small spoonful and found that the milk had a bitter flavour that

hurt his throat. Saïd mentioned this fact to several people who were

present, and especially to the lieutenant, Mehemet Aga, and they all

tasted it—some of them even had to keep to their beds for several days

afterwards, having been so imprudent as to take a sufficient quantity

to upset their system.

 

When this was related to Midhat Pasha, he at once sent for Mehemet Aga,

and with much self‐restraint spoke to him as follows: “I sent to‐day

for some of the same milk as that ordered by the Binbashi (Major). It

has been found to contain verdigris; this has been proved by all those

who drank it; I believe that you also tasted it.”

 

Mehemet acknowledged that the milk had been very much adulterated.

Midhat, still preserving his _sang‐froid_, continued: “Since this is

the case, why do you not go to the Binbashi (Major) and warn him to be

careful not to drink it.”

 

The officer went away hurriedly, and soon after returned, saying:

“That the Binbashi was going to send for the milkman, that he intended

to investigate the matter, and that if it were deserved, a severe

punishment would be inflicted. That he meant to get to the bottom of

the whole business.”

 

But we learned later on that before Mehemet went to inform the

Binbashi, this latter was in the garden of the military hospital,

surrounded by his confidants, whom he asked from time to time if all

had gone off well! If the milk had been drunk, and if it had proved

efficacious.

 

At the same time we were told that several soldiers who had drunk

the Binbashi’s milk had become ill. This, undoubtedly, was nothing

but a rumour which had been purposely spread, and has never received

confirmation from any trustworthy source.

 

A sample of this milk was sent to the Binbashi to be analysed by

the doctors. The only reply he made was: “That they had not got the

necessary apparatus for analysis!” This is absolutely incredible.

 

In order to save appearances, Bekir sent for Echreff, the milkman,

and remonstrated with him. But Echreff, on his side, protested most

vehemently. Besides which all his cans were in good condition. He

insisted that the milk must have been contaminated by some medicament

after it had left his dairy.

 

Thus the incident was closed, for the Binbashi did not follow up the

affair, which he wished to be forgotten.

 

Another time a strange fact was again noticed. It was when Arif,

Midhat’s servant, was still in his service. He always passed his nights

in the Pasha’s room, having first of all locked up his own, in which he

frequently kept the food he had prepared for the following day.

 

Arif perceived one morning that the lids of his saucepans had been

disturbed, and that their contents presented an unusual appearance. He

immediately told Midhat of his extraordinary discovery, and the Pasha

sent at once for Damad Mahmoud and the other prisoners, begging them

to examine the saucepans. After a summary examination they ascertained

that some foreign matter had been introduced. The perpetrator of this

odious attempt remained as much unknown as he who had put the verdigris

in the milk. The contents of all the saucepans were given to the dogs

and cats, but as these animals were none the worse, we thought that

this foreign matter could not have been a poison. However, after the

assassination of Midhat Pasha we learned that the sub‐lieutenants

Mehemet and Nouri, getting in one night by the window, had managed to

poison all those dishes of which Midhat Pasha would have partaken the

following day. These two gentlemen made a complete confession of this

crime some time afterwards.

 

During this time there was an honest soldier, Mehemet Yosgad, whose

duty it was to prepare the coffee. We now know that it was suggested to

him more than once that he should give poison to the prisoners, mixing

it with their coffee. However, as this honourable man firmly refused to

commit this crime, others had to be found who would undertake it.

 

Mahmoud Pasha, who was very fond of coffee, began to give up drinking

it, and no longer smoked his _narghilé_, but in order to show his

confidence in honest Mehemet, he never refused coffee that had been

prepared by him.

 

Another time it was noticed that the water which was kept in a _baradé_

had a most offensive smell. The jar was broken, and very great

precautions were taken thenceforth.

 

Major Bekir was a thoroughly bad man, and extremely cunning. He took as

many precautions about the crime he was about to commit as he did about

his accomplices. So far all attempts at poisoning had failed; other

means must be employed!

 

On the 9th of Redjeb, 1301 (23rd April 1883, O.S.), a Sunday, a

detachment of cavalry, with two guns, arrived at Taïf, under the

command of a Circassian colonel belonging to the 53rd regiment of the

7th Army Corps. Mehemet Lutfi at once chose out about forty of the

strongest soldiers and increased the prisoners’ guard.

 

Before the arrival of Mehemet Lutfi, Bekir had several times called

Hadji Chukri Aga, Mahmoud Pasha’s servant, into his own private room

very late at night, when every one was asleep, and kept him there in

trivial conversation; but he had never dared to confide the secret to

him, nor to ask his help, for Chukri was not the kind of man to become

his accomplice, or to commit a crime against his benefactor.

 

As has been stated above, the colonel reorganised the prisoners’ guards

after his own manner. The same day he sent for Arif Aga in order that

he might have the incident of the milk explained to him, but in reality

he proposed to Arif that he should poison his master.

 

“The poison is ready,” he said, “and if you succeed in making Midhat

drink it, you will receive very great rewards from His Majesty the

Sultan. Another man has been commissioned to kill Damad Mahmoud, but

if you are willing to undertake that as well, your recompense shall be

doubled. If ever you divulge the secret you will be killed.”

 

The promised reward amounted to £T1000 for the death of Midhat, and

£T600 for that of Mahmoud.

 

Arif was a devoted and faithful servant, besides being a good

Mussulman. He not only refused the rewards, but, disregarding all

intimidations, protested strongly against the cowardly and unworthy

schemes that they had formed against his master. He hastened also to

relate to Midhat and to Mahmoud Pasha all that had been said to him.

 

These two Pashas, deeply moved by this communication, held a long

consultation together, but to no purpose. What could they do? For

a long time now they had foreseen very clearly that their end was

approaching, if not by one way, then by another.

 

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

much preoccupied.

 

On the second night after his arrival he had the prisoners’ quarters

surrounded by numerous soldiers, and gave special orders to those who

formed the inside guard. On Tuesday evening, he wished to end the whole

affair, but circumstances obliged him to put off the execution until

the following night. Ibrahim Aga, the captain, and three lieutenants

sent for Arif Aga, and told him plainly that owing to a command

received from the Palace of Yildiz Kiosk, they were obliged to put an

end to Midhat, and that as Arif had refused to poison him, they hoped

that at least he would have a little good sense and open the door of

the Pasha’s room about midnight; and that if he refused this little

service they would know what steps to take.

 

Poor Arif Aga, maddened by hearing of the odious crime which was about

to be committed against his beloved master, sprang up in rage and

cried frantically to these wretches: “Oh no! I will never do what you

suggest—I will never open the door! I will not be your accomplice! I

am afraid of my conscience and of Allah!”

 

They were beginning to ill‐treat him, but at that moment the prisoners

happened to be going to their separate rooms. Midhat, who was on his

way to his bedroom, was descending the stairs when he heard the voice

of his faithful servant crying out over and over again: “Master, do not

go down; return to your friends at once, and spend the night with them. These cowards are meaning to assassinate you!”