The Appeal. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. ;) 1889-19??, 1889-07-13
SULTAN ABDUL-HAMlD.
French Correspondents Interview With
the Ruler Of the Faithful.

| inc du1er OF the Faithful
Having learned how difficult a thing
it was to obtain an interview with
Abdul-Hamid H., I felt a mighty long
ing for the forbidden fruit, and eventu-
ally enjoyed it through the assistance
of Mikael- Effendi, the Secretary to the
Minister of Foreign Affairs. He called
for me, at my hotel, in his carriage.
and the vehicle took its tortuous way.
first through the grand street of Pera,
then into break-neck roads around and
about immense barracks, until at last
it gained the heights of Orta-Keni, and
after quite long and perilous voyage
we found ourselves before the palace.
Yildiz-Kiosk palace of the Starr, the
actual residence of the Sultan, is an
Isolated retreat where the disturbances
OF the outer world can scarcely pene-
trate, and whose inward disturbances
rarely and inexactly reach the ears of
the outer world. The carriage stopped
in narrow garden, where we re-
NAMED, under strict surveillance of
| the sentinels, while our names were
announced to the chamberlain Of the
service. To the right, to the left, be-
fore and behind US, trotted sentinels,
soldiers. servants, workmen (for they
are forever adding to the kiosk, and
it threatens to become a small city in
itself) in one continual stream, but
none entered the doors of the palace
and I saw no one 90 out.
After very few moments we were
admitted and passed up long, steep
staircase OF oak, with a balustrade of
crystal, and then through narrow GAL
ieries, between thick walls, making
veritable excursion down suites of
rooms, all furnished in the European
style, and finally, coming to halt in a
saloon, where we were served by a
negro with coffee and cigarettes, while
we awaited the good pleasure of the
chamberlain. From. some room very
near us [ heard the voice of "a man
in dreary, drawing monotone, and
Mlkael-Etfendi informed me that each
Friday, in the kiosk, are sung the
praises of departed Sultans. But for
this monotonous chant, silence reigned
in the Palace of the Star. 1t seemed to
me a million servants, or officers of the
kiosk, passed and re-passed through
tho rooms while we waited, but they
exchanged no words, only an occasional
sign, and their steps we're noiseless. A
veil OF mystery seemed to envelop our
surroundings, and I was distinctly con-
sclous OF sense of oppression.
REALIZED that this monarch, even in
his own palace, does not feel secure.
1t may be that he suspects no one, but
he is a man who doubts all the world.
At the same time, he is really loved by
his people, to whom Sultan who can
spare many hours from his harem to
devote to the affairs of his country is
an unceasing source of surprise. Alb
dul-Hamid has cast off the precedent
and example of the monarchs of his
race, and works as hard and faithfully
as any of his ministers, of whom he
demands strict accounts, and who come
to no serious decision without his
order. He is very affable and received
US with the utmost cordiality. I could
not pass for Turk, nor he for a
Frenchman, and our conversation was
not as brisk as I should have liked it
to be. We received every possible
courtesy, however, and although diff
cult enough of accomplishment, found
an interview with the Sultan to be
very nearly as commonplace in reality
as the meeting with any other gentle
man. Through the interminable suites
anc narrow corridors again, down the
steep staircase, out through the ranks
OF soldiers and servants, into our car.
riage and across the Orta-Keni, and
this time with our faces turned from
the Sultan's Palace of the Star.-Paris
Figaro.