days after accounts were laid before the English public of the deeds which ever since have been known as 'the Bulgarian atrocities.'

Mr. Disraeli at first treated these terrible stories with a levity which jarred harshly on the ears of almost all his listeners. It was plain that he did not believe them or attach any importance to them. He took no trouble to examine the testimony on which they rested. He, therefore, thought himself warranted in dealing with them as if they were merely stories to laugh at. Mr. Disraeli had always the faculty of persuading himself to believe or disbelieve anything according as he liked. But the subject proved to be far too serious for light-minded treatment. Mr. Baring, the English Consul, sent out specially to Bulgaria to make inquiries, and who was supposed to be in general sympathy with Turkey, reported that no fewer than twelve thousand persons had been killed in the district of Philippopolis. The defenders of the Turks insisted that the only deaths were those which took place in fight; insurgents on one side, Turkish soldiers on the other. But Mr. Baring, as well as Mr. MacGahan, the Daily News correspondent, saw whole masses of the dead bodies of women and children piled up in places where the corpses of no combatants were to be seen. The women and children were simply massacred. The Turkish Government may not have known at first of the deeds that were done by their soldiers. But it is certain that after the facts had been forced upon their attention, they conferred new honours upon the chief perpetrators of the crimes which shocked the moral sense of all Europe.

Mr. Bright happily described the agitation which followed in England as an uprising of the English people. At first it was an uprising without a leader. Soon, however, it had a chief of incomparable energy and power. Mr. Gladstone came out of his semi-retirement. He flung himself into the agitation against Turkey with the impassioned energy of a youth. He made speeches in the House of Commons and out of it; he attended monster meetings indoors and out of doors; he published pamphlets, he wrote letters, he brought forward motions in Parliament; he denounced the crimes of Turkey, and the policy which would support Turkey, with an eloquence that for a time set England aflame. After a while no doubt there set in a sort of reaction against the fervent mood. The country could not long continue in this white heat of excitement. Mr. Disraeli and his supporters were able

to work with great effect on that strong deep-rooted feeling of the modern Englishman, his distrust and dread of Russia. Mr. Gladstone had in his pamphlet, Bulgarian Horrors, and the Question of the East,' insisted that the only way to secure any permanent good for the Christian provinces of Turkey was to turn the Turkish officials bag and baggage' out of them. The cry went forth that he had called for the expulsion of the Turks from Europe, and that the moment the Turks went out of Constantinople the Russians must come in. Nothing could have been better suited to rouse up reaction and alarm. A sudden and strong revulsion of feeling took place in favour of the Government. Mr. Gladstone was honestly regarded by millions of Englishmen as the friend and the instrument of Russia, Mr. Disraeli as the champion of England, and the enemy of England's enemy.

Mr. Disraeli? By this time there was no Mr. Disraeli. The 11th of August, 1876, was an important day in the parliamentary history of England. Mr. Disraeli made then his last speech in the House of Commons. He sustained and defended the policy of the Government as an Imperial policy, the object of which was to maintain the Empire of England. The House of Commons little knew that this speech was the last it was to hear from him. The secret was well kept. It was made known only to the newspapers that night. Next morning all England knew that Benjamin Disraeli had become Earl of Beaconsfield. Everybody was well satisfied that if Mr. Disraeli liked an earldom he should have it. political career had had claims enough to any reward of the kind that his Sovereign could bestow. If he had battled for honour it was but fair that he should have the prize. Coming as it did just then the announcement of his elevation to the peerage seemed like a defiance flung in the face of those who would arraign his policy. The attacks made on Mr. Disraeli were to be answered by Lord Beaconsfield; his enemies had become his footstool.

His

CHAPTER XXVII.

THE CONGRESS OF BERLIN.

LORD BEACONSFIELD went down to the county which he had represented so long, and made a farewell speech at Aylesbury. The speech was in many parts worthy of the occasion. Un

fortunately Lord Beaconsfield soon went on to make a fierce attack on his political opponents. The controversy between Lord Beaconsfield and Mr. Gladstone, bitter enough before, became still more bitter now. The policy each represented may be described in a few very summary words. Lord Beaconsfield was for maintaining Turkey at all risks as a barrier against Russia. Mr. Gladstone was for renouncing all responsibility for Turkey and taking the consequences.

The common expectation was soon fulfilled. At the close of June 1876, Servia and Montenegro declared war against Turkey. Servia's struggle was short. At the beginning of September the struggle was over, and Servia was practically at Turkey's feet. The hardy Montenegrin mountaineers held their own stoutly against the Turks everywhere, but they could not seriously influence the fortunes of a war. Russia intervened and insisted upon an armistice, and her demand was acceded to by Turkey. Meanwhile the general feeling in England on both sides was growing stronger and stronger. Public meetings of Mr. Gladstone's supporters were held all over the country, and the English Government was urged in the most emphatic manner to bring some strong influence to bear on Turkey. On the other hand, it cannot be doubted that the common suspicion of Russia's designs began to grow more keen and wakeful than ever. Lord Derby frankly made known to the Emperor Alexander what was thought or feared in England, and the Emperor replied by pledging his sacred word that he had no intention of occupying Constantinople, and that if he were compelled by events to occupy any part of Bulgaria, it should be only provisionally, and until the safety of the Christians should be secured. Then Lord Derby proposed that a Conference of the European Powers should be held at Constantinople in order to agree upon some scheme which should provide at once for the proper government of the various provinces and populations subject to Turkey, and at the same time for the maintenance of the independence and integrity of the Ottoman Empire. The proposal was accepted by all the Great Powers, and on November 8, 1876, it was announced that Lord Salisbury and Sir Henry Elliott, the English Ambassador at Constantinople, were to attend as the representatives of England.

Lord Beaconsfield was apparently determined to recover the popularity that had been somewhat impaired by his unlucky way of dealing with the massacres of Bulgaria. His

plan now was to go boldly in for denunciation of Russia. He sometimes talked of Russia as he might of an enemy who had already declared war against England. The prospects of a peaceful settlement of the European controversy seemed to become heavily overclouded. Lord Beaconsfield appeared to be holding the dogs of war by the collar, and only waiting for the convenient moment to let them slip. Everyone knew that some of his colleagues, Lord Derby for example, and Lord Carnarvon, were opposed to any thought of war, and felt almost as strongly for the Christian provinces of Turkey as Mr. Gladstone did. But people shook their heads doubtfully when it was asked whether Lord Derby or Lord Carnarvon, or both combined, could prevail in strength of will against Lord Beaconsfield.

The Conference at Constantinople came to nothing. The Turkish statesmen at first attempted to put off the diplomatists of the West by the announcement that the Sultan had granted a Constitution to Turkey, and that there was to be a Parliament at which representatives of all the provinces were to speak for themselves. There was in fact a Turkish Parliament called together. Of course the Western statesmen could not be put off by an announcement of this kind. They knew well enough what a Turkish Parliament must mean. It seems almost superfluous to say that the Turkish Parliament was ordered to disappear very soon after the occasion passed away for trying to deceive the Great European Powers. Evidently Turkey had got it into her head that the English Government would at the last moment stand by her, and would not permit her to be coerced. She refused to come to terms, and the Conference broke up without having accomplished any good. New attempts at arrangement were made between England, Russia, and others of the Great Powers, but they fell through. Then at last, on April 24, 1877, Russia declared war against Turkey, and on June 27 a Russian army crossed the Danube and moved towards the Balkans, meeting with comparatively little resistance, while at the same time another Russian force invaded Asia Minor.

For a while the Russians seemed likely to carry all before them. But they had made the one great mistake of altogether undervaluing their enemies. Their preparations were hasty and imperfect. The Turks turned upon them unexpectedly and made a gallant and almost desperate resistance. One of their commanders, Osman Pasha, suddenly threw up defensive

works at Plevna, in Bulgaria, a point the Russians had neglected to secure, and maintained himself there, repulsing the Russians many times with great slaughter. For a while success seemed altogether on the side of the Turks, and many people in England were convinced that the Russian enterprise was already an entire failure; that nothing remained for the armies of the Czar but retreat, disaster, and disgrace. Under the directing skill, however, of General Todleben, the great soldier whose splendid defence of Sebastopol had made the one grand military reputation of the Crimean War, the fortunes of the campaign again turned. Kars was taken by assault on November 18, 1877; Plevna surrendered on December 10. At the opening of 1878 the Turks were completely prostrate. The road to Constantinople was clear. Before the English public had time to recover their breath and to observe what was taking place, the victorious armies of Russia were almost within sight of the minarets of Stamboul.

Meanwhile the English Government were taking momentous action. In the first days of 1878 Sir Henry Elliott, who had been Ambassador in Constantinople, was transferred to Vienna, and Mr. Layard, who had been Minister at Madrid, was sent to the Turkish capital to represent England there. Mr. Layard was known to be a strong believer in Turkey; more Turkish in some respects than the Turks themselves. But he was a man of superabundant energy; of what might be described as boisterous energy. The Ottoman Government could not but accept his appointment as a new and stronger proof that the English Government were determined to stand their friend; but they ought to have accepted it too as evidence that the English Government were determined to use some pressure to make them amenable to reason. Unfortunately it would appear that the Sultan's Government accepted Mr. Layard's appointment in the one sense only and not in the other. Parliament was called together at least a fortnight before the time usual during recent years. The Speech from the Throne announced that her Majesty could not conceal from herself tl at should the hostilities between Russia and Turkey unfortunately be prolonged some unexpected occurrence may render it incumbent on me to adopt measures of precaution.' This looked ominous to those who wished for peace, and it raised the spirits of the war party. There was a very large and a very noisy war party already in existence. It was particularly strong in London.

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