^{page 388 note 1} The discussion in this article assumes familiarity with my ‘Legacy of Tradition to Reform: Origins of the Ottoman Foreign Ministry’ (hereafter cited as ‘Legacy’), IJMES, vol. 1 (1970), pp. 334–57. Specific cross-references will be provided in the notes below for points of special importance.Google Scholar

^{page 388 note 2} These generally exogenous factors — certainly they arose outside the ambit of the bureaucracy per se-are alluded to in the introduction to ‘Legacy’, p. 334, and are discussed more fully in my Ph.D. thesis, ‘From Reis Efendi to Foreign Minister, Ottoman Bureaucratic Reform and the Creation of the Foreign Ministry’ (Harvard, 1969), ch. 1, section B.Google Scholar

^{page 389 note 1} BBA, Dîvân-i hümâyûn muhtelif ye mütenevvi’ defterleri, no. 37: Kalem nizâm-nâmesi (hereafter cited as Kal. niz.), pp. 4–7, regulations for Dîvân-i hümâyûn kalemi; pp. 18–19, Mektûbî-i Sadr-i ‘âlî kalemi; pp. 30–1, Âmedî kalemi. At the head of each of these entries is an order for execution (hatt-i hümâyûn) dated 1 or 2 Ş 1211/1797.Google Scholar

^{page 389 note 2} The organizational relationships among these offices are discussed in ‘Legacy’, pp. 336–8, and shown graphically in the chart on page 337.Google Scholar

^{page 390 note 1} BBA, Kal. niz., pp. 18–19, regulations of Mektûbî kalemi, stating that while a staff of fifteen or twenty had been adequate thirty or forty years earlier, thirty were needed at this time. It is clear, however, that the number actually employed there in 1797, when the regulations were issued, exceeded this, for the regulations add that no new clerks should be taken in until the number in the office had fallen within the limit of thirty.Google Scholar

^{page 390 note 2} Ibid. p. 5, regulations of Dîvân Office.Google Scholar

^{page 390 note 3} The expressions used are ‘iltimâs’ and ‘ricâ ve şefâ‘at ve gönüle ri‘âyet’, the latter appearing thus in the nizâms of both the Dîvân and ÂmedîOffices, while similar expressions are used in that of the Mektûbî Office (ibid.pp. 5, 19, 30).Google Scholar

^{page 390 note 4} pp. 19, 31.Google ScholarIbid.The regulations for theMektûbî Office do, however, recognize the possibility of appointing persons distinguished by birth (kisi-zâde), as well as by training (erbâb-i ma‘ârif). The system adopted for the Âmedî Office is described as intended to make entry into that office more difficult.

^{page 391 note 1} pp. 5–7, including a list of the first appointees, with notes of the types of documents which they had experience drafting.Google ScholarIbid.

^{page 391 note 2} p. 5.Google ScholarIbid.In terms of personnel, the document specifies those who must be separated from one another as the clerks dealing in important affairs (mühimme-nüvîs ketebesi), on one hand, and, on the other, those dealing with foreigners (i.e. embassy dragomans), those appointed to keep the registers on aliens in Ottoman dominions (müste’min defâtiri isti ‘mâline me’mûr olanlar), and those dealing with Ottoman subjects coming in on business (erbâb-i mesâlih kâğidi yazan sâ’ir küttab ve şâgirdân). There is no indication of whether the business of the erbâb-i mesâlih;would have been official or personal.

^{page 392 note 1} E.g. the Mektûbî Office, where all the affairs handled were supposed to be of a confidential nature, acquired its own mühimme odasi in 1278/1861–2,Google Scholar as a result, according to Lütfî Efendi, of increase in both business and staff (Târîh, vol. x, p. 63Google Scholar [Library of the Turkish Historical Society, Ankara, TTK MS 531/3]). A specific example from the later history of the Foreign Ministry would be the Directorship of Important Affairs which had appeared by 1294/1877 in the Tahrîrât-i hâricîye kalemi, orDirection de la Correspondance Etrangère as it was called in French, itself an offshoot of the Translation Office to be discussed in this article (Sâl-nâme-i Devlet-i ‘Alîye, year 1294/1877, p. 112). By this time, other examples had also appeared in other ministries.Google Scholar

^{page 392 note 2} Naff, Thomas, ‘Reform and the Conduct of Ottoman Diplomacy’, Journal of the American Oriental Society, vol. 83 (1963), pp. 298, 312.Google Scholar

^{page 392 note 3} BBA, Kal. niz., p. 5, regulations ofDîvân Office. For the organizational relationships among these offices, again cf. the chart in ‘Legacy’, p. 337. Despite the confusing use of the term ‘office’ (kalem) for all four of them, the Beylik, Rü'us, and Tahvîl Offices were actually sections within the Dîvân Office, as was the Section for Important Affairs created in 1797.Google Scholar

^{page 392 note 4} BBA, Kal. niz., p. 8, entry of 19 R 1216/1801; identical text in BBA, Rü'us defteri no. 217, ‘ilm-ü-haber, with same date.Google Scholar

^{page 393 note 1} An entry of 15 C 1254/1838 (BBA, Kal. niz., p. 10) does, at least, reflect the continuation of the assumption that appointments should be limited to the quota of twenty-four per year.Google Scholar

^{page 393 note 2} p. 9, entry of 20 R 1234/1819.Google ScholarIbid.

^{page 393 note 3} Ibid.p. 10,Google Scholar entry of 15 C 1254/1838, saying that the staff of the office had risen above 100. That thirty was regarded as the proper number to be employed there at least as late as 16 C 1248/1832 is clear from an entry of that date (ibid.p. 8).Google Scholar

^{page 393 note 4} Ibid.p. 21,Google Scholarentry of 13 N 1222/1807. The document does prescribe that these sons of employees of the office will first be required to write something to prove their abilities (‘Mektûbî efendi ve baş halîfesi ma‘rifetiyle bi’l-istiktâb…’). ‘Test papers’ (imtihânnâme) of such a type have survived from the early Tanzîmât period. These show that the examinations tested nothing more than the candidates’ ability to write a few lines, not necessarily expressing any complete thought, but in good penmanship and a ‘high’ style of composition. Close decisions among competing candidates thus rather obviously tended to be decided on ascriptive grounds (BBA, İrade D 1066 and D 1289 of 7 S [?] and 15 L 1256/1840).

^{page 394 note 1} BBA,Kal. niz., pp. 34–9, entry of 27 ZA 1254/Feb. 1839;Google Scholar published by Sungu, İthsan, ‘Mekteb-i Maarif-i Adliyyenin Tesisi’, Tarih Vesikalari, vol. 1 (1941), pp. 212–25.Google Scholar The translation of the name of this school as given by Kazamias, Andreas M. in his Education and the Quest for Modernity in Turkey (London, 1966), p. 53,Google Scholar requires correction. It does not mean ‘School for Justice Education’, as he states. The term ‘adlîye derives from the sobriquet of Mahmûd II, ‘adlî, ‘the Just’, and refers only to the fact that the school was founded during his reign. The remainder of the name, Mekteb-i Ma‘ârif, can fairly be translated as ‘School of Instruction’, as Serif Mardin does in his Genesis of Young Ottoman Thought (Princeton, 1962), p. 208.Google Scholar Some of the awkwardness of this designation perhaps vanishes when we relate it to Niyazi Berkes’ attempt to take the verbal opposition of ma‘ârif, which came to mean education in the modem, secular sense, and ‘ilm, or ‘science’ in the traditional, religious sense, as expressive of the bifurcation which became increasingly characteristic of Ottoman culture in the nineteenth century (The Development of Secularism in Turkey [Montreal, 1964], pp. 99ff). As the following note makes clear, however, any such opposition of terms had not fully hardened by this time.Google Scholar

^{page 394 note 2} Ergin, Osman, Istanbul Mektepleri ve İlim, Terbiye ve San’at Müesseseleri Dolaytsile Türkiye Maarif Tarihi (Istanbul, 1939–1943), vol. 2, pp. 324–30.Google Scholar The name Mekteb-i ‘Ulûm-l Edebîye can perhaps best be translated ‘School of Literary Studies’, 'ulûm of course being the plural of 'ilm. Both these schools were opened for essentially the same purpose, and their curricula do not appear to have differed significantly in practice.

^{page 395 note 1} On the formalism of the traditional bureaucracy, cf. ‘Legacy’, pp. 338–44.Google Scholar

^{page 395 note 2} Problems of goal-subversion in the traditional bureaucracy are discussed in ‘Legacy’, pp. 351–2, 355–6.Google Scholar

^{page 396 note 1} Naff, op. cit. p. 304.Google Scholar

^{page 396 note 2} Lewis, Bernard, The Emergence of Modern Turkey (London, 1961), pp. 59–61;Google ScholarCevdet, , Târîh (Istanbul, 1309/1891–1892), vol. 6 ², p. 88.Google Scholar

^{page 396 note 3} Naff, op. cit. p. 303;Google ScholarKuran, E., ‘Türkiye’nin Batihlaşmasinda Osmanli daimî Elçiliklerinin Rölü’, VI. Türk Tarih Kongresi, Kongreye Sunulan Bildiriler (Ankara, 1967), p. 491.Google Scholar

^{page 396 note 4} Naff, op. cit. pp. 303–4;Google ScholarCevdet, , Târîh, vol. 6 ², pp. 231–2.Google Scholar

^{page 396 note 5} BBA, Şehb. no. I, early entries, beginning 1217/1802–3.Google Scholar

^{page 396 note 6} Stoianovich, Traian, ‘The Conquering Balkan Orthodox Merchant’, Journal of Economic History, vol. 20 (1960), p. 296.CrossRefGoogle Scholar

^{page 397 note 1} While modern traditions of consular practice can, in some aspects, be traced back to ancient times, ‘it was only when the crusades created the great development of commerce between the cities of the Mediterreanean and the Near East… that the real consular regime began’ (Stuart, Graham, American Diplomatic and Consular Practice [New York, 1952], p. 280).Google Scholar Under the conditions of Euopean commerce in the Near East in that period, the early consuls combined headship over an organized group of merchants of common origin with judicial and repesentative functions. The development of this system was, of course, intimately linked with the history of extraterritorial legal privilege in the Near East and must also have provided the model for the later Ottoman consular system. On the European tradition in general, cf. Stuart, op. cit. pp. 277–91 (‘Historical Development of Consular Practice’)Google Scholar and Mattingly, Garrett, Renaissance Diplomacy (Boston, 1955), pp. 67–9.Google Scholar It appears certain, however, that the development of the Ottoman consular system was also influenced by the Ottoman guild-tradition, on which we have commented in ‘Legacy’, pp. 350–2. Interaction of the two traditions is fairly clear in certain special cases. According to Stoianovich, Selîm III allowed ‘the Greeks to form a trading company or guild of “European merchants” possessing virtually all the privileges of western European traders in the Empire’ (op. cit. p. 272). Similarly, when a group of Muslim merchants, called hayrîye tüccârt, emerged and attempted to gain the same privileges as the European merchants in order to compete effectively, they too adopted a corporate organization.Google Scholar According to Baer, Gabriel (‘The Administrative, Economic and Social Functions of Turkish Guilds’, IJMES, vol. 1 [1970], pp. 34, 43),Google Scholar its chief was known as the şehbender. Significantly, this term was, until replaced by konsolos later in the century, the normal one for ‘consul’. Redhouse, (A Turkish and English Lexicon [Constantinople, 1921],Google Scholars.v. ‘bender’) defines the term as a corruption via şah-bender of şeyh ül-bender, meaning first ‘a mayor or provost of a seaport’ (bender), and second ‘a consul’. Zenker, (Türkisch-Arabisch-Persisches Handwörterbuch [Leipzig, 1866; reprinted Hildesheim, 1967],Google Scholars.v. ‘şah-bender’) gives the first meaning as ‘chef de la douane’/‘Ober-Zolleinnehmer’, while the second would be either a Persian or an Ottoman consul in a European city.

^{page 397 note 2} Stoianovich (op. cit. pp. 271–2)Google Scholar mentions some of the European commercial centers in which Orthodox Balkan merchants had begun to congregate, attributing particular importance to Amsterdam. The first entry for the appointment of an Ottoman consul there does not appear in the register of consular appointments until M 1219/1804, when one Nikola Marçello (?- such names are difficult to make out from the Arabic script) was appointed resident consul for the Nerlanda [sic?] iskeleleri, or ports of the Netherlands (BBA, Şehb., entry of Evâsit-1 M 1219/1804). According to Stoianovich, the significant growth of Ottoman Christian commerce in Amsterdam would have begun three-quarters of a century earlier. The first appointment recorded for London is for one Giridli Todori (‘Theodore of Crete’) in 1806 (ibid.,entry of Evâsit-1 ZA 1220/1806).Google Scholar

^{page 397 note 3} Stoianovich (op. cit. p. 268) presents a schematic diagram of these routes.Google Scholar

^{page 398 note 1} Blancard, Théodore, in Les Mavroyéni: histoire d'orient (de 1700 à nos jours) (Paris, 1909), vol. 2, chapters on ‘Jean Mavroyéni, Chargé d'affaires de Turquie à Vienne et Conseiller d'État’, pp. 133–217,Google Scholar gives significant details about the commercial matters taken up by J. Mavroyeni during ten years of service as Ottoman chargé in Vienna. After an obscure and variegated early career, which included some association with the famous Rhigas, Mavroyeni, J. was, in April 1811, appointed chargé at the Ottoman legation in Vienna (p. 348),Google Scholar where he is known to have been in trade as early as 1792, as a correspondent of his brother, Nicholas, in Trieste (p. 136). Serving continuously as chargé until 1821, J. Mavroyeni was, despite what his early associations might have seemed to portend, a loyal servant of the Porte (p. 173) and an active champion of the commercial interests of the sultan's subjects. According to Blancard, the Vienna archives contain more than 100 documents from Mavroyeni dating from the decade 1811–21 (p. 150). Blancard quotes an account of their contents furnished him by the director of the archives. According to this, the documents include numerous requests for passports for merchants who were Ottoman subjects, a number of complaints about the treatment these merchants received from Austrian customs officials, several attempts to intercede with the Staatskanzlei in favor of Ottoman subjects accused or convicted of smuggling, and numerous appeals for authorization to purchase supplies in Hungary for the paşa of Belgrade or the sancak of Semendria (pp. 155–6). Blancard also reprints documents which, among other things, show Mavroyeni acting successfully in 1815 on behalf of ‘la communauté des négociants, sujets ottomans à Vienne… afin d'avoir à la Bourse un courtier de change sachant leur langue’ (pp. 157–8) and, with equal success, championing the interests of his fellow Ottoman subjects against exorbitant new export tariffs in 1818 (pp. 158–61).Google Scholar

^{page 398 note 2} BBA, Şehb, no. 1. Following entries of appointments of 1235/1819–20, there is a long gap in time, no further appointments being entered before R 1252/1836.Google Scholar

^{page 398 note 3} Hurewitz, J. C., ‘The Europeanization of Ottoman Diplomacy: The Conversion from Unilaterialism to Reciprocity in the Nineteenth Century’, Belleten, vol. 25 (1961), p. 462.Google Scholar The path followed at this juncture by J. Mavroyeni, discussed in note 1, above, appears to have been unique. In June 1821, the Re'îs Efendi notified Metternich of Mavroyeni's recall to Istanbul, where another member of the family, who had been serving as Grand Logothete of the Patriarchate, had only recently been beheaded. In view of the situation, Metternich supposedly advised the chargé not to go to Istanbul, but to take refuge in the city of Pressburg in Hungary (now Bratislava in Czechoslovakia), which was endowed with traditional legal privileges such that neither the government of Austria, that of Hungary, nor the Porte would be able to do anything to him. Mavroyeni, in effect, rode out the Greek revolution there, eventually returning to Vienna only under a provision of the London Protocol of 1829 which, according to Blancard, assured members of Phanariot families that they would be allowed to return to their homes in safety (Blancard, op. cit. vol. II, pp. 179–84).Google Scholar

^{page 399 note 1} Naff, op. cit. p. 305.Google Scholar

^{page 399 note 2} Lewis, op. cit. p. 103.Google Scholar

^{page 399 note 3} Naff, op. cit. p. 305, including quotations of some of Selîm's comments and references to other sources.Google Scholar

^{page 399 note 4} BBA, Buy. no. 3, entry of 8 S 1255/1839. Along with numerous works in traditional genres, the books included two works on mathematics (hendese), a mineralogical treatise of some sort (Risâle fî beyân ma'âdin in-nâfi'a), a ‘Frankish’ dictionary (lug˘at-i efrenc), miscellaneous ‘Frankish’ books (kütüb-i efrencîye, 8 volumes), plus a large map, and two Gospels or New Testaments (incîl), one in Arabic and the other referred to just as a translation (tercüme). At the same time, other books of traditional types were also acquired from the estates of a kâdî and a Şeyh ül-İslâm.Google Scholar

^{page 399 note 5} Kuran, op. cit. p. 495.Google Scholar

^{page 399 note 6} Lewis, op. cit. p. 103;Google ScholarMardin, op. cit. p. 161;Google ScholarLütfî, , Târîh (Istanbul, 1290–1328 [1873/1874–1910]), vol. 2, pp. 155–7;Google ScholarKöprülü, O., art. ‘Gâlib Paşa’, İA, vol. 4, pp. 710–14.Google Scholar

^{page 400 note 1} The phrase imperium in imperio, certainly an apt description, is from FO 78/108, Strangford's no. 70, 10 May 1822. Stoianovich (op. cit. pp. 269–73) discusses the development of the Phanariot patriciate, through its monopoly of these offices, into what he calls a noblesse de robe and comments on how this aided in the rise of Greek commerce.Google Scholar

^{page 400 note 2} Cevd´et, , Târîh, vol. 12 ², pp. 94–7.Google Scholar

^{page 400 note 3} Ibid.,vol. XI², pp. 145, 162; vol. XII², p. 43. Cf. FO 78/107, Strangford's no. 52, 25 April 1822, dating the dismissal of Aristarchi precisely as ‘the 16th instant’.Google Scholar

^{page 400 note 4} It is not entirely clear how soon after the appointment of Aristarchi that of Yahyâ Efendi followed. According to Cevdet, the execution of Constantine Mourouzi occurred on 13 B 1236/16 April 1821Târîh, vol. Xi², p. 145)Google Scholar- by coincidence exactly one solar year, then, before the dismissal of Aristarchi - while the appointment of the latter must have occurred on 18 B 1236/21 April 1821 (ibid.vol. XI², p. 162).Google ScholarAccording to a passage which Cevdet quotes from the history of Şânî-zâde (not now available to me), the appointment of Yahyâ Efendi occurred ‘after fifteen or twenty days’ - whether counting from the execution of Mourouzi, from the appointment of Aristarchi, or what, is not clear (ibid.vol. XI², p. 166).Google ScholarBBA, Cev. Har., includes numbers of the requests and orders which appear to have been required each month to secure payment of the salaries of Yahyâ Efendi and his associates. One of these documents, Cev. Har. 2268, bears several entries dated 13–27 M 1237/Oct. 1821, on the salary payment of the month of Muharrem for Yahyâ Efendi, appointed to translate French and Greek documents and teach languages to persons of aptitude (müste'iddân) at the Porte. These entries refer, in fact, to payment of his salary ‘as in the past’, and mention the preceding month of Zî 'l-hicce 1236. The beginnings of what later became famous as the Tercüme odasi, or Translation Office, are thus to be traced back to some point between April and September 1821, prior to the dismissal of the last of the Greek Translators of the Imperial Divan.

^{page 401 note 1} FO 78/107, Strangford's no. 52 of 25 April 1822. Strangford does not appear to have been aware of Yahyâ Efendi or the new Translation Office prior to the fall of Aristarchi, which he reports in this dispatch. About Yahâ Efendi, Strangford adds that he was ‘a man of Seventy Years of age, and formerly a Physician at Gallipoli, of which place he is a native’. His apostasy was ‘for the purpose of obtaining a favourable issue to a Lawsuit in which he was engaged with his kindred, respecting some property left by his Father’.Google Scholar

^{page 401 note 2} Cevdet, , Târîh, vol. 11 ², p. 166.Google Scholar Yahyâ Efendi's status as a Muslim by conversion does not appear to have been entirely satisfactory to the Porte. In another passage which Cevdet quotes here, Şnî-zâde indicates that Yahyâ Efendi was kept in the post ‘because’, as he bluntly puts it, ‘a Muslim could not be found’ (‘bir Müslümân bulunamadiğindan…’).

^{page 401 note 3} FO 78/107, Strangford's no. 52 of 25 April 1822. Y. Çark recounts the services of Zenob and other members of this family, mainly in the fields of art and diplomacy, in his Turk Devieti Hizmetinde Ermeniler (Istanbul, 1953), pp. 135ff. According to Çark, Zenob also later served as first secretary and translator at the Ottoman embassy in Vienna.Google Scholar

^{page 402 note 1} FO 78/108, Strangford's no. 65, 10 May 1822.Google Scholar

^{page 402 note 2} BBA, Mühimme defteri no. 241, p. 292, entry of 25 RA 1240/Nov. 1824.Google Scholar

^{page 402 note 3} Cevdet, (Târîh, vol. 12 ², p. 92) dates the appointment of İIshk Efendi as 17 ZA 1239/ July 1824.Google Scholar

^{page 402 note 4} İshak Efendi is an important and enigmatic figure. The most recent, detailed examination of what is known about his life and career is Unat's, F. R. ‘Başhoca İshak Efendi’, Belleten, vol. 27 (1964), pp. 89–125.Google Scholar Unat attempts to show that İshak Efendi had been sent to France for training as early as the 1770s in an effort to free the Porte of the need to rely on Greek translators; that he had served at the French Court as a secret envoy of Selîm III, even prior to the latter's accession (pp. 95ff.); that he was not a convert from Judaism, as most contemporary sources maintain, but in fact a descendant of Ahmed III with a distinguished Muslim pedigree (p. 203) and had had to disguise his identity following the fall of Selîm (p. 106).

^{page 402 note 5} FO 78/123, Strangford's no. 88 of 26 July 1824. Strangford's account of İshak Efendi's origins is similar to those in most contemporary sources. He describes him as a ‘native of Yannina, who embraced the Mahomedan Religion shortly after his arrival at Constantinople in 1789, and who has almost ever since been employed as Director of the Mathematical Schools [Mühendis-hâne] founded by Sultan Selim’.Google Scholar

^{page 403 note 1} BBA, HH 24621. The date on this document, added later in pencil, should presumably be changed from 1238 to about 1244/1828–9. For the persecution of the Armenian Catholics at this time, cf. Temperley, H. W. V., England and the Near East, the Crimea (London, 1936), pp. 22–3.Google Scholar

^{page 403 note 2} Unat, op. cit. p. 112.Google Scholar

^{page 403 note 3} BBA, Buy. no. 2, entry of 11 S 1249/30 June 1833. The text of this document, which is mainly on the changes in salaries, implies that it is very nearly contemporary with this reorganization of the office. The date of the document is significant in relation to contemporary problems with Egyptians and Russians. The Battle of Konya had occurred on 21 December 1832; the treaty of Hünkâr İskelesi was signed on 8 July 1833, the Russians withdrawing from Istanbul two days later. As for the volume of the salary increases, the fact that salaries had previously been made up from a variety of special revenues makes it impossible to say how much the translators had actually received. It seems quite likely, however, that the salary of 5,000 kuruş per month assigned to the Translator of the Imperial Divan at this time represented an increase by a factor of as much as five. (Information on earlier salary matters in this office from BBA, Buy. no. 2, entry of 22 ZA 1243/1828, and Cev. Har. 41, 57, 1159, 1177, 2222, 2326, 2481.) In commenting on these changes, Lütfî (Târîh, vol. IV, pp. 99, 176) makes rather confused comments about how ‘Âlî and Safvet were among the ‘first’ appointed to the office. The idea, found in other works as well, that the Translation Office was only founded at this time is doubtless due to its small size up to this point, the obscurity of its staff, and the continued use of Greeks as interpreters in many situations.Google Scholar

^{page 403 note 4} Vefîk, Oh Ahmed, Lewis, v., op. cit. p. 86;Google ScholarTansel, F. A., ‘Ahmed Vefik Paşa’, Belleten, vol. 28 (1964), pp. 118–19.Google Scholar On Fu'âd, Köprülü, v. O., art. ‘Fuad Paşa’, İA, vol. 4, p. 672.Google Scholar

^{page 404 note 1} BBA, Cev. Har. 441, salary receipt of 28 Z 1256/1841.Google Scholar

^{page 404 note 2} The name of ‘Ingilterelü’ Redhouse is clearly discernible, for example, in a salary receipt bearing the date of 27 M 1257/1841 (BBA, Cev. Har. 6367). In addition to Redhouse, İnal, Mahmud Kemal (Osmanli Devrinde Son Sadriazamlar [Istanbul, 1964], vol. 1, p. 5)Google Scholar says that when ‘Âlî was in the office, the teachers included one Georges Sardou, whom he identifies as the father of the dramatist Victorien Sardou (1831–1908). Victorien's father was a teacher, but his name was Antoine-Léandre, and he never taught outside France, though he was for a time on the faculty of the École Ottomane, founded in Paris in mid-century (Hart, Jerome A., Sardou and the Sardou Plays [Philadelphia and London, 1913], p. 18).Google Scholar

^{page 404 note 3} Lütfî, , Târîh, vol. 6, p. 67.Google Scholar

^{page 404 note 4} We have recounted J. Mavroyeni's prior service as chargé and the way he survived the period of the Greek Revolution in nn. 1 and, p. 398, above (following Blancard, op. cit.). Almost immediately after his reappointment in 1832, he was, as the only Ottoman diplomatic agent then resident in Europe, dispatched to London. His primary mission was to influence the decisions of the diplomatic conference then meeting there on the delimitation of the Greco-Ottoman frontier. In addition, he was to seek British supportfor the return of Algeria to Ottoman suzeraintyand help against the armies of Mehmed ‘Alî (ibid.pp. 185, 190).Google Scholar Not even arriving in London until after the decisions on border delimitation had been made (p. 187), Mavroyeni had little success. He remained there through the middle of 1833, serving to introduce Nâmik Paşa (cf. following note), who arrived in London at the end of 1832 at the head of a mission sent for essentially the same purposes. Following his return to Vienna, Mavroyeni continued to serve as chargé and later as counselor of embassy, until his death in 1841.

^{page 404 note 5} As a military officer and one of the very early Ottoman statesmen to acquire knowledge of French, Mehmed Nâmik Paşa appears to have possessed rare qualifications for a number of diplomatic and military missions which came up in this period. Having served as second translator at Ak-Kerman in 1826, he was also a member of an embassy sent to St Petersburg after the conclusion of the Treaty of Adrianople. When, shortly after his arrival in London as ambassador in 1832, the Egyptian forces advanced as far as Kütahya and the Russians sent troops to Istanbul, he was sent from London to St Petersburg on a special mission, returning again briefly to London in 1834 (Cevdet, , Târîh, vol. 12 ², pp. 191–2).Google Scholar According to Lütfî, (Târîh, vol. 4, pp. 107–8), another embassy of similar nature appears to have gone to Russia under Ahmed Fevzî Pasa in 1249/1833–4.Google Scholar

^{page 405 note 1} vol. IV, pp. 158–59, 176; vol. v, p. 6.Google ScholarIbid.

^{page 405 note 2} BBA, Şehb. no. I, appointments of R 1252/1836 et seq.Google Scholar

^{page 405 note 3} Lüftfî, Târîh, vol. IV, pp. 158–9; vol. v, p. 7.Google Scholar

^{page 405 note 4} HHS, Türkei, VI/64, Stürmer's no. 171, 20 April 1836; VI/70, Stürmer's no. 363 C, 26 September 1839.Google Scholar

^{page 405 note 5} Tanpinar, A. H., art. ‘Âkif Paşa’, IA, vol. 1, pp. 242–6;Google ScholarTuran, Ş., art. ‘Pertev Paşa’, IA, vol. 9, pp. 554–6.Google Scholar See also Tanpinar, A. H., XIXuncu Asir Türk Edebiyati Tarihi (Istanbul, 1967), pp. 60–7, 85–7.Google Scholar On the links of Pertev with leading Tanzîmât statesmen, cf. Mardin, op. cit. pp. 151, 158ff., 174, 176, 189.Google Scholar

^{page 406 note 1} Lütfî, Târîh, vol. v, p. 101.Google Scholar

^{page 406 note 2} Stürmer referred to one of Mustafâ Reşîd's missions to England as a ‘golden bridge’ which ‘Âkif Paşa had made to get rid of him (HHS, Türkei VI/67, no. 268, 31 January 1838). Roussin interpreted Mustafâ Reşîd's mission to England in the summer of 1838 as motivated by fear of his rivals, and the commercial treaty just concluded as, again, a ‘golden bridge’ (AAE, Turquie 276, rios. 85 and 87, 24 August and 4 September 1838).Google Scholar

^{page 406 note 3} HHS, Türkei, VI/66, Stürmer's no. 242 A-B, 2 August 1837.Google Scholar

^{page 406 note 4} FO 78/250, various notes from Nâmik Paşa to FO, Oct.-Dec. 1834. The statement about ‘Mehemet aly’ is in a document dated 13 November 1834.Google Scholar

^{page 406 note 5} HHS, Türkei, VI/70, Stürmer's no. 363G, 26 September 1839.Google Scholar

^{page 406 note 6} FO 78/393, Ponsonby's no. 86, 25 April 1840, underlined in original.Google Scholar

^{page 407 note 1} The contributions of âdik Rif'at to Ottoman bureaucratic and cultural history have received considerable comment. Tanpinar, V., Türk Edebiyatt Tarihi, pp. 88–93;Google ScholarLewis, op. cit. pp. 129–30; Mardin, op. cit. pp. 169–95.Google Scholar

^{page 407 note 2} Hammer's estimate of the early Ottoman ambassadors in general was that, though highly skilled in the Ottoman chancery style of composition, they were otherwise entirely ignorant. He described Sâdik Rif'at more particularly as good-natured, but superstitious, stingy, and dumb - as if anyone seriously lacking in intelligence could have mastered the official Ottoman prose style. Certainly, though, Rif'at was ill-prepared for his mission. As a measure of Rif‘at’s ignorance of diplomatic history, Hammer recounts having to explain to him the subject of a painting showing the Entry of the Allies into Paris at the end of the Napoleonic Wars. More significantly, Hammer recounts one incident which shows particularly well how Rif ‘at’s behaviour in Europe continued to be dominated by the feelings of insecurity characteristic of bureaucratic life in Istanbul. At one point, because of another obligation, Metternich declined an invitation to a dinner which Rif'at was to give. The latter thereupon became extremely dejected and asked Hammer if war had broken out between Austria and the Porte or if he had somehow erred to have fallen so deeply into disgrace with the Prince. Hammer, hard put to reassure him, regarded the incident with disdain and amusement (von HammerPurgstall, Joseph, Erinnerungen aus meinem Leben, 1774–1852, ed. von Echt, Reinhart Bachofen [Vienna, 1940], pp. 318, 322, 324–5).Google Scholar Rif‘at’s perturbation, however, should probably be related to the fall of Pertev Paa, and explained by the failure of the ill-informed ambassador to understand that he need not fear the disfavor of the government to which he was accredited in the same way as that of the one which had sent him. As is well known, the Ottoman government, as late as the time of the Napoleonic Wars, had maintained the custom of imprisoning or otherwise abusing European ambassadors when relations with their governments became strained or were broken off. Rif'at may have feared that he was, for some reason, about to receive similar treatment. In any case, his fear and confusion not only provide an interesting insight into the awkwardness of early Ottoman diplomats, but very likely also help explain his later advocacy of a system of ranks which civil officials would hold in office or out, as well as of guarantees for individual life, honor, and property. These were measures of particular importance in reducing the traditional insecurity of bureaucratic life.

^{page 408 note 1} Lütfî, Târîh, vol. v, pp. 29–30, 147; Sâl-nâme-i Nezâret-i Hâricîye, year 1302/1884–5, pp. 162–3: text of the hatt-i humâyûn, dated as taking effect on 23 ZA 1251/ II March 1836. At the same time, the Kahya Bey was made into the Mülkîye nâziri.Google Scholar

^{page 408 note 2} HHS, Türkei, VI/65, Stürmer's no. 206 A-B, 30 November 1836. A Dâhilîye müstesâri, or Undersecretary for Internal Affairs, was also appointed at the same time. The history of the Hâricîye müstesârlği, at least, is not continuous in these earl years.Google Scholar

^{page 408 note 3} Lütfî, Târîh, vol. v, pp. 108–9; FO 78/330, copy of letter of F. Pisani to Ponsonby, dated at March 1838; FO 78/331, page from Moniteur ottoman of 5 May 1838, enclosed in Ponsonby's no. 117 of 9 May 1838.Google Scholar

^{page 408 note 4} Kuran, E., article ‘Resîd Pasa’, İA, vol. IX, pp. 701–2.Google Scholar

^{page 408 note 5} HHS, Türkei, VI/66, Stürmer's no. 246 A-B, 30 August 1837.Google Scholar

^{page 409 note 1} von Hamrner-Purgstall, Joseph, Geschichte des osmanischen Reiches (Pest, 1835), vol. 10, p. 699,Google Scholar commenting on his Des osmanischen Reiches Staatsverfassung und Staatsverwaltung (Vienna, 1815).Google Scholar

^{page 409 note 2} Lütfî, Târîh, vol. v, pp. 29–31, 147. Cf. HHS, Türkei, VI/64, Stürmer's no. 166 of 16 March 1836. He described the Foreign Minister as having a salary increased at this time from 60,000 to 240,000 piasters (kurus) per annum, and the ‘Ministre de l' Empire’ (Mülkîye nâziri) as having one of 120,000, now increased to 300,000. He converts these figures at the rate of 10 kurus to one ‘f. de conu.’, or fiorin de convention. As another indication of what these figures meant, about this time, the French franc appears to have been worth between four and five kurus in Istanbul (Young, George, Corps de droit ottoman [Oxford, 1905–1906], vol. v, pp. 1–3; cf. BBA, Ayn. no. 766, entries of 1255/1839 on settlement of bills of exchange from France).Google Scholar

^{page 409 note 3} Lütfi, Târîh, vol. v, pp. 47–8.Google Scholar

^{page 410 note 1} vol. v, pp. 107–8;Google ScholarIbid. FO 78/330, Ponsonby/s no.78 of 26 March 1838; FO 78/330, Ponsonby/s no. 117 of 9 May 1838, enclosing page from Moniteur ottoman of 5 May 1838. For a fuller discussion of the two councils, see Shaw, S. J., ‘The Central Legislative Councils in the Nineteenth Century Ottoman Reform Movement before 1876’, IJMES, vol. 1 (1970), pp. 54ff. The creation of the two councils occurred at the same time as the subdivision of the Âmedî and Mektûbî Offices.Google Scholar

^{page 410 note 2} HHS, VI/67, Stürmer's no. 277 B, Apr. 1838.Google Scholar

^{page 410 note 3} It is curious, therefore, that Berkes (op. cit. pp. 97–9) refers to these changes as the ‘creation’ of the Sublime Porte.Google Scholar

^{page 410 note 4} Mardin, op. cit. p. 131,Google Scholar citing the phrase from Murad Efendi [von Werner, Franz], Türkische Skizzen (Leipzig, 1878), p. 65.Google Scholar

^{page 410 note 5} This system of annual reappointment is discussed in ‘Legacy’, p. 353.Google Scholar

^{page 410 note 6} Lütfî, Târîh, vol. iv, pp. 113–14. As to the reason for the postponement, Lütfî says only that officials had formerly spent all of Ramażân worrying about what would happen in Şevvâl, the following (tenth) month. Postponing the appointments to şa'bân (the eighth month) gave them ten extra months on this occasion, but for the future merely shifted the annual period of uncertainty out of Ramażân.Google Scholar

^{page 411 note 1} vol. v, p. 114.Google ScholarIbid.

^{page 411 note 2} vol. VIII (ed. ‘Abd ül-Rahmân Şeref), pp. 92–3;Google ScholarIbid.Uzunçarsth, İ. H., Osmanli Devietinin İlmiye Tekildtz (Ankara, 1965), pp. 283–4;Google ScholarPakaim, Mehmet Z., Osmanli Tarih Deyimleri ve Terimleri Sözlüğü (Istanbul, 1946–1953),Google Scholar s.v.v. ‘Hâcegân rütbesi’, ‘Râbia’, ‘Salise‘Saniye’, ‘Saniye sinif-i mütemayizi’, ‘Saniye siruf-, sanisi’, ‘Ûlâ’, Ûlâ evveli’, ‘Ûlâ sanisi’, ‘Vezir’.

^{page 411 note 3} Lütfî (Târîh, vol. v, p. 102)Google Scholar records, in fact, that in 1253/1837–8, an attempt was made to limit this diffusion of the hvdcelik by requiring prior examination of prospective recipients. His comment on this is that everyone who was able to hold a pen received the rank. Pakalin (op. cit., s.v. ‘Hâcegân rütbesi’) agrees that the ranklost importance. Sources like the personnel records of the Foreign Ministry (Har., Sicill-i ahvâl), however, indicate that some officials never received this rank at all, while others did so only after years of service.Google Scholar

^{page 411 note 4} TPK, E 972, various undated documents. One appears to represent the same scheme as that discussed by Hammer, Geschichte des osinanischen Reiches, vol. x, pp. 697–700. Hammer cites the Takvîm-i Vekâ'i, no. 75, 26 L 1249/8 March 1834, as his source.Google Scholar

^{page 411 note 5} Cf. Mardin, op. cit. p. 185, on the role of Şâdik. Rif'at Pasa in the development of the system of civil ranks.Google Scholar

^{page 411 note 6} Lütfî, Târ'h, vol. v, pp. 25–6, 126–7; vol. vi, p. 66; vol. VIII, pp. 155–6; vol. xx (Library of the Turkish Historical Society, Ankara [TTK MS 531/2]), pp. 45, 116.Google Scholar

^{page 411 note 7} For an excellent, general survey of how the compensation system operated in this period, v. Cevdet, , Tezâkir 1–12 (ed. Baysun, Cavid, Ankara, 1953), pp. 18–19.Google Scholar On attempts to cut out bribery see Karal, E. Z., ‘Tanzimat Devri Vesikalan: Rüşvetin Kaldirilmasi için yapilan Teşbbüsler’, Tarih Vesikalart, vol. 1 (1941), pp. 45–65.Google Scholar

^{page 412 note 1} HHS, Turkei, VI/67, von Klezl's no. 279C, 18 April 1838, mentioning that such generous salaries were unknown in the richest countries of Europe. For what such a sum might have meant in terms of contemporary European currencies, cf. n. 2, p. 409.Google Scholar

^{page 412 note 2} AAE, Turquie 276, Roussin's no. 77, 16 July 1838.Google Scholar

^{page 412 note 3} HHS, Turkei, VI/67, von Klezl's no. 283A-C, 16 May 1838.Google Scholar

^{page 412 note 4} Levy, R., Baysun, Cavid, art. ‘Musadere’, IA, vol. vm, pp. 669–73.Google Scholar

^{page 412 note 5} Mardin, op. cit. p. 157. Mardin places great emphasis on the significance of this measure for the bureaucracy.Google Scholar