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by E. F. Benson


  “I hope so,” said Philip fervently.

  The only thing, now that Philip had disposed of the razor-blade, that clouded his complete content was the fear that his passport would be granted him, and that he would have to make a journey to America. Happily no such unnerving calamity occurred, for a week later he received a polite intimation from the passport office that the object for which he wanted to go there did not seem of sufficient importance to warrant the granting of a permit; so, wreathed in smiles, he passed this letter over to Phoebe.

  “There’s the end of that,” he said.

  “Philistines! Barbarians!” she said indignantly.

  “I suppose they are acting to the best of their judgment,” said he. “I dare say they have never heard of me.”

  “My dear, don’t be so cynical,” said Phoebe.

  “Well, well! Certainly I am bitterly disappointed.”

  He took up the morning paper.

  “Bitterly!” he said again. “Hallo! Our airmen bombed Mannheim two nights ago, and dropped three tons of high explosives. Well, that is very interesting. Captain Traill said that perhaps some of those bombs which we saw being filled would make a mess in Mannheim. I hope they were those actual ones.”

  “So do I,” said Phoebe. “Was there much damage done?”

  “The German account says that there was hardly any, but of course that is the German account. A few people were wounded and cut by fragments of the bombs. Cut!”

  He got up and could hardly refrain from dancing round the table among the rushes.

  “Some deep cuts, I shouldn’t wonder,” he said.

  THE END

  The Short Stories

  395 Oxford Street, London – one of the many residences which Benson occupied in the city

  LIST OF SHORT STORIES IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER

  ONCE

  AUTUMN AND LOVE

  TWO DAYS AFTER

  CARRINGTON

  JACK AND POLL

  AT KING’S CROSS STATION

  THE SOUND OF THE GRINDING

  BLUE STRIPE

  A WINTER MORNING

  THE ZOO

  THE THREE OLD LADIES

  GRAMMARIAN

  POOR MISS HUNTING- FORD

  THE DEFEAT OF LADY GRANTHAM

  THE TRAGEDY OF A GREEN TOTEM

  THE DEATH WARRANT

  HOW FEAR DEPARTED FROM THE LONG GALLERY

  AT ABDUL ALI’S GRAVE

  MRS. AMWORTH

  BETWEEN THE LIGHTS

  THE HOUSE WITH THE BRICK-KILN

  THE MAN WHO WENT TOO FAR

  THE BUS-CONDUCTOR

  CATERPILLARS

  AND THE DEAD SPAKE

  THE DUST-CLOUD

  THE CAT

  THE GARDENER

  THE CHINA BOWL

  GAVON’S EVE

  THE HORROR-HORN

  IN THE TUBE

  THE CONFESSION OF CHARLES LINKWORTH

  NEGOTIUM PERAMBULANS

  THE OTHER BED

  OUTSIDE THE DOOR

  THE ROOM IN THE TOWER

  THE SHOOTINGS OF ACHNALEISH

  THE TERROR BY NIGHT

  MR. TILLY’S SEANCE

  THE COUNTESS OF LOWNDES SQUARE

  THE BLACKMAILER OF PARK LANE

  THE DANCE ON THE BEEFSTEAK

  THE ORIOLISTS

  IN THE DARK

  THE FALSE STEP

  THE CASE OF FRANK HAMPDEN

  MRS. ANDREWS’S CONTROL

  THE APE

  THROUGH

  PUSS-CAT

  THERE AROSE A KING

  THE TRAGEDY OF OLIVER BOWMAN

  PHILIP’S SAFETY RAZOR

  LIST OF SHORT STORIES IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER

  A WINTER MORNING

  AND THE DEAD SPAKE

  AT ABDUL ALI’S GRAVE

  AT KING’S CROSS STATION

  AUTUMN AND LOVE

  BETWEEN THE LIGHTS

  BLUE STRIPE

  CARRINGTON

  CATERPILLARS

  GAVON’S EVE

  GRAMMARIAN

  HOW FEAR DEPARTED FROM THE LONG GALLERY

  IN THE DARK

  IN THE TUBE

  JACK AND POLL

  MR. TILLY’S SEANCE

  MRS. AMWORTH

  MRS. ANDREWS’S CONTROL

  NEGOTIUM PERAMBULANS

  ONCE

  OUTSIDE THE DOOR

  PHILIP’S SAFETY RAZOR

  POOR MISS HUNTING- FORD

  PUSS-CAT

  THE APE

  THE BLACKMAILER OF PARK LANE

  THE BUS-CONDUCTOR

  THE CASE OF FRANK HAMPDEN

  THE CAT

  THE CHINA BOWL

  THE CONFESSION OF CHARLES LINKWORTH

  THE COUNTESS OF LOWNDES SQUARE

  THE DANCE ON THE BEEFSTEAK

  THE DEATH WARRANT

  THE DEFEAT OF LADY GRANTHAM

  THE DUST-CLOUD

  THE FALSE STEP

  THE GARDENER

  THE HORROR-HORN

  THE HOUSE WITH THE BRICK-KILN

  THE MAN WHO WENT TOO FAR

  THE ORIOLISTS

  THE OTHER BED

  THE ROOM IN THE TOWER

  THE SHOOTINGS OF ACHNALEISH

  THE SOUND OF THE GRINDING

  THE TERROR BY NIGHT

  THE THREE OLD LADIES

  THE TRAGEDY OF A GREEN TOTEM

  THE TRAGEDY OF OLIVER BOWMAN

  THE ZOO

  THERE AROSE A KING

  THROUGH

  TWO DAYS AFTER

  The Non-Fiction

  Benson’s long-term London home at 25 Brompton Square, South Kensington

  CRESCENT AND IRON CROSS

  CONTENTS

  PREFACE

  CHAPTER I: THE THEORY OF THE OLD TURKS

  CHAPTER II: THE THEORY OF THE NEW TURKS

  CHAPTER III: THE END OF THE ARMENIAN QUESTION

  CHAPTER IV: THE QUESTION OF SYRIA AND PALESTINE

  CHAPTER V: DEUTSCHLAND ÜBER ALLAH

  CHAPTER VI: ‘THY KINGDOM IS DIVIDED’

  CHAPTER VII: THE GRIP OP THE OCTOPUS

  PREFACE

  In compiling the following pages I have had access to certain sources of official information, the nature of which I am not at liberty to specify further. I have used these freely in such chapters of this book as deal with recent and contemporary events in Turkey or in Germany in connection with Turkey: the chapter, for instance, entitled ‘Deutschland über Allah,’ is based very largely on such documents. I have tried to be discriminating in their use, and have not, as far as I am aware, stated anything derived from them as a fact, for which I had not found corroborative evidence. With regard to the Armenian massacres I have drawn largely on the testimony collected by Lord Bryce, on that brought forward by Mr. Arnold J. Toynbee in his pamphlet The Murder of a Nation, and The Murderous Tyranny of the Turks, and on the pamphlet by Dr. Martin Niepage, called The Horrors of Aleppo. In the first chapter I have based the short historical survey on the contribution of Mr. D.G. Hogarth to The Balkans (Clarendon Press, 1915). The chapter called ‘Thy Kingdom is Divided’ is in no respect at all an official utterance, and merely represents the individual opinions and surmises of the author. It has, however, the official basis that the Allies have pledged themselves to remove the power of the Turk from Constantinople, and to remove out of the power of the Turk the alien peoples who have too long already been subject to his murderous rule. I have, in fact, but attempted to conjecture in what kind of manner that promise will be fulfilled.

  Fresh items of news respecting internal conditions in Turkey are continually coming in, and if one waited for them all, one would have to wait to the end of the war before beginning to write at all on this subject. But since such usefulness as this book may possibly have is involved with the necessity of its appearance before the end of the war, I set a term to the gathering of material, and, with the exception of two or three notes inserted later, ceased to collect it after June 1917. But up to then
anything that should have been inserted in surveys and arguments, and is not, constitutes a culpable omission on my part.

  E.F. BENSON

  CHAPTER I: THE THEORY OF THE OLD TURKS

  The maker of phrases plies a dangerous trade. Very often his phrase is applicable for the moment and for the situation in view of which he coined it, but his coin has only a temporary validity: it is good for a month or for a year, or for whatever period during which the crisis lasts, and after that it lapses again into a mere token, a thing without value and without meaning. But the phrase cannot, as in the case of a monetary coinage, at once be recalled, for it has gone broadcast over the land, or, at any rate, it is not recalled, and it goes on being passed from hand to hand, its image and superscription defaced by wear, long after it has ceased to represent anything. In itself it is obsolete, but people still trade with it, and think it represents what it represented when it came hot from the Mint. And, unfortunately, it sometimes happens that it is worse than valueless; it becomes a forgery (which it may not have been when it came into circulation), and deceives those who traffic with it, flattering them with an unfounded possession.

  Such a phrase, which still holds currency, was once coined by Lord Aberdeen in the period of the Crimean War. ‘Turkey is a sick man,’ he said, and added something which gave great offence then about the advisability of putting Turkey out of his misery. I do not pretend to quote correctly, but that was the gist of it. Nor do I challenge the truth of Lord Aberdeen’s phrase at the period when he made it. It possibly contained a temporary truth, a valid point of view, which, if it had been acted on, might have saved a great deal of trouble afterwards, but it missed then, and more than misses now, the essential and salient truth about Turkey. The phrase, unfortunately, still continued to obtain credit, and nowadays it is a forgery; it rings false.

  For at whatever period we regard Turkey, and try to define that monstrous phenomenon, we can make a far truer phrase than Lord Aberdeen’s. For Turkey is not a sick man: Turkey is a sickness. He is not sick, nor ever has been, for he is the cancer itself, the devouring tumour that for centuries has fed on living tissue, absorbing it and killing it. It has never had life in itself, except in so far that the power of preying on and destroying life constitutes life, and such a power, after all, we are accustomed to call not life, but death. Turkey, like death, continues to exist and to dominate, through its function of killing. Life cannot kill, it is disease and death that kill, and from the moment that Turkey passed from being a nomadic tribe moving westwards from the confines of Persia, it has existed only and thrived on a process of absorption and of murder. When first the Turks came out of their Eastern fastnesses they absorbed; when they grew more or less settled, and by degrees the power of mere absorption, as by some failure of digestion, left them, they killed. They became a huge tumour, that nourished itself by killing the living tissues that came in contact with it. Now, by the amazing irony of fate, who weaves stranger dramas than could ever be set on censored stages, for they both take hundreds of years to unravel themselves, and are of the most unedifying character, Turkey, the rodent cancer, has been infected by another with greater organisation for devouring; the disease of Ottomanism is threatened by a more deadly hungerer, and Prussianism has inserted its crab-pincers into the cancer that came out of Asia. Those claws are already deeply set, and the problem for civilised nations is first to disentangle the nippers that are cancer in a cancer, and next to deprive of all power over alien peoples the domination that has already been allowed to exist too long.

  The object of this book is the statement of the case on which all defenders of liberty base their prosecution against Turkey itself, and against the Power that to-day has Turkey in its grip.

  Historical surveys are apt to be tedious, but in order to understand at all adequately the case against Turkey as a ruler and controller of subject peoples, it is necessary to go, though briefly, into her blood-stained genealogy. There is no need to enter into ethnological discussions as to earlier history, or define the difference between the Osmanli Turks and those who were spread over Asia Minor before the advent of the Osmanlis from the East. But it was the Osmanlis who were the cancerous and devouring nation, and it is they who to-day rule over a vast territory (subject to Germany) of peoples alien to them by religion and blood and all the instincts common to civilised folk. Until Germany, ‘deep patient Germany,’ suddenly hoisted her colours as a champion of murder and rapine and barbarism, she the mother of art and literature and science, there was nothing in Europe that could compare with the anachronism of Turkey being there at all. Then, in August 1914, there was hoisted the German flag, superimposed with skulls and cross-bones, and all the insignia of piracy and highway robbery on land and on sea, and Germany showed herself an anachronism worthy to impale her arms on the shield of the most execrable domination that has ever oppressed the world since the time when the Huns under Attila raged like a forest fire across the cultivated fields of European civilisation. To-day, in the name of Kultur, a similar invasion has broken on shores that seemed secure, and it is no wonder that it has found its most valuable victim and ally in the Power that adopted the same methods of absorption and extermination centuries before the Hohenzollerns ever started on their career of highway robbery. But like seeks like, and perhaps it was not wholly the fault of our astonishing diplomacy in Constantinople that Turkey, wooed like some desirable maiden, cast in her lot with the Power that by instinct and tradition most resembled her. Spiritual blood, no less than physical blood, is thicker than water, and Gott and Allah, hand-in-hand, pledged each other in the cups they had filled with the blood that poured from the wine-presses of Belgium and of Armenia.

  For centuries before the Osmanli Turks made their appearance in Asia Minor, there had come from out of the misty East numerous bodies of Turks, pushing westwards, and spreading over the Euphrates valley and over Persia, in nomadic or military colonisations, and it is not until the thirteenth century that we find the Osmanli Turks, who give their name to that congregation of races known as the Ottoman Empire, established in the north-west corner of Asia Minor. Like all previous Turkish immigrations, they came not in any overwhelming horde, with sword in one hand and Koran in the other, but as a small compact body with a genius for military organisation, and the gift, which they retain to this day, of stalwart fighting. The policy to which they owed their growth was absorption, and the people whom they first began to absorb were Greeks and other Christians, and it was to a Christian girl, Nilufer, that Osman married his son Orkhan. They took Christian youths from the families of Greek dwellers, forced them to apostatise, gave them military training, and married them to Turkish girls. It was out of this blend of Greek and Turkish blood, as Mr. D.G. Hogarth points out, that they derived their national being and their national strength. This system of recruiting they steadily pursued not only among the Christian peoples with whom they came in contact, but among the settlements of Turks who had preceded them in this process of pushing westwards, and formed out of them the professional soldiery known as Janissaries. They did not fight for themselves alone, but as mercenaries lent their arms to other peoples, Moslem and Christian alike, who would hire their services. This was a policy that paid well, for, after having delivered some settlement from the depredations of an inconvenient neighbour, and with their pay in their pocket, they sometimes turned on those who had hired their arms, took their toll of youths, and finally incorporated them in their growing empire. Like an insatiable sponge, they mopped up the sprinklings of disconnected peoples over the fruitful floor of Asia Minor, and swelled and prospered. But as yet the extermination of these was not part of their programme: they absorbed the strength and manhood of their annexations into their own soldiery, and came back for more. They did not levy those taxes paid in the persons of soldiers for their armies from their co-religionists, since Islam may not fight against Islam, but by means of peaceful penetration (a policy long since abandoned) they united scattered settlements of Turk
s to themselves by marriages and the bond of a common tongue and religion.

  Their expansion into Europe began in the middle of the fourteenth century, when, as mercenaries, they fought against the Serbs, and fifty years later they had a firm hold over Bulgaria as well. Greece was their next prey; they penetrated Bosnia and Macedonia, and in 1453 attacked and took Constantinople under Mohammed the Conqueror. Still true to the policy of incorporation they continued to mop up the remainder of the Balkan Peninsula, and at the same time consolidated themselves further in Asia Minor. By the beginning of the seventeenth century their expansion reached its utmost geographical limits, but already the Empire held within it the seeds of its own decay, and by a curious irony the force that should still keep it together was derived not from its own strength, but from the jealousies of the European Powers among themselves, who would willingly have dismembered it, but feared the quarrels that would surely result from the apportionment of its territories. The Ottoman Empire from then onwards has owed its existence to its enemies.

  Its weakness lay in itself, for it was very loosely knit together, and no bond, whether of blood or religion or tongue, bound to it the assembly of Christian and Jewish and non-Moslem races of which it was so largely composed. The Empire never grew (as, for instance, the British Empire grew) by the emigration and settlement of the Osmanli stock in the territories it absorbed: it never gave, it only took. From the beginning right up to the last quarter of the nineteenth century, it has been a military despotism, imposing itself on unwilling and alien tribes whom it drained of their blood, and then left in neglect until some further levy was needed. None of its conquered peoples was ever given a share in the government; they were left unorganised and, so to speak, undigested elements under the Power which had forced them into subjection, and one by one the whole of the European peoples included in that uncemented tyranny have passed from under Turkish control. Turkey in Europe has dwindled to a strip along the Bosporus to the Sea of Marmora and the Dardanelles, Egypt has been lost, Tripoli also, and the only force that, for the last hundred years has kept alive in Europe the existence of that monstrous anachronism has been the strange political phenomenon, now happily extinct, called the Balance of Power. No one of the Great Powers, from fear of the complications that would ensue, could risk the expulsion of the Turkish Government from Constantinople, and there all through the nineteenth century it has been maintained lest the Key of the Black Sea, which unlocked the bolts that barred Russia’s development into the Mediterranean, should lead to such a war as we are now passing through. That policy, for the present, has utterly defeated its own ends, for the key is in the pockets of Prussia. But all through that century, though the Powers maintained Turkey there, they helped to liberate, or saw liberate themselves, the various Christian kingdoms in Europe over which at the beginning of the eighteenth century Turkey exercised a military despotism. They weakened her in so far as they could, but they one and all refused to let her die, and above all refused to give her that stab in the heart which would have been implied in her expulsion from Constantinople.

 

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