ERZEROUM
It is all cheery, home-like and delightful out here after my lonely
life in Alexandropol and Kars. I began to take an interest in all my
surroundings once more. When I waked up next morning my first thought
was, “Can it be true, or is it only a dream that I have my husband to
myself?” and I almost cried for joy when I was quite sure it was true.
March 16th.—Life in Erzeroum is an Elysium after my lonely life in
Alexandropol and Kars. I am in such a radiant mood that I think
everything I see is perfect. I have nothing left to wish for and am able
to allow myself the luxury of a piano, a lovely saddle-horse, and all
sorts of nice things. Our house is one of the biggest in Erzeroum; it
looks palatial after my lodgings in Alexandropol and Kars. From the top
of our terrace-roof one can see the whole town from a bird’s eye view,
with its sixty-six minarets rising to the sky, its imposing citadels
and floating flags over different Consulates. In the far distance there
is the encircling chain of the Palantek mountains, with glittering
snow-peaks. The houses are low, with balustrades round them like those
in Biblical pictures. There are about 15,000 inhabitants in Erzeroum;
the majority are Turks, then come Greeks and Armenians. After sunset the
town looks gloomy, only soldiers can be seen in the streets. As for the
population, it is represented only by a multitude of errant dogs, the
usual street-sweepers of Turkish towns. I hear every evening the voices
of the muezzins (Turkish priests) calling to prayer: “_Alla huac bar,
Alla huac bar!_” (God is great.)
I had a nightmare last night, and with a loud scream I woke up. I dreamt
that Sergy was ordered to the war and clung to him, fearing to be parted
again. Sergy held me close to him and kissed away my tears, assuring me
that nothing and nobody could part us now, and that I shall be with him
always, night and day. He succeeded at length in calming my fears. I felt
safe again under his wing and fell peacefully asleep.
March 17th.—My arrival caused the greatest excitement among the Christian
inhabitants of Erzeroum. They are all singing my praises for having come
out here by those shocking roads, and they say that I certainly deserve
a medal as a reward for my bravery.
Was it curiosity to see a European woman, or was it a desire to show
devotedness to the Russians? Perhaps both reasons together made visitors
overflow our drawing-room. All the big wigs of the town came to pay
their respects to me. To-day, for instance, I received the family of
George Effendi, one of the richest Greek merchants of Erzeroum. His wife
wore a splendid silk dress interwoven with gold and silver, and a small
velvet cap adorned with gold spangles and tassels. Her daughter-in-law,
a woman of fourteen, of childish stature and appearance, was obliged to
keep the most absolute silence in her presence, whilst her own daughter
chatted in very bad French all the while. After them came the family of
Antoine-Effendi Schabanian, the most noted Armenian inhabitant of the
town, who had come to present his respects to me the day before.
The native Christian women, being under the dominion of Turkish rule,
find themselves here in such a state of degradation, that their husbands
consider it unsuitable to appear with them anywhere. Antoine Effendi
speaks very good English for a foreigner; he has been a correspondent
of the _Times_ during the Russo-Turkish war. Other guests came in quick
succession, amongst them the French Consul, M. Gilbert, with his wife,
a charming young woman, so bright and winsome. Mme. Gilbert seems very
friendly; she has put her books and music at my disposal. We propose
to see each other often, and to take long walks together. During the
Gilbert’s visit an old Pasha came in. That ancient fanatic, more than
eighty years of age, didn’t venture to look into my face, but kept his
eyes fixed chastely on the carpet, murmuring _sotto voce_ something I
didn’t understand. Mme. Gilbert, who speaks Turkish, explained that the
aged mussulman was making oriental compliments to me. Just before dinner
an Australian doctor came in, holding a stick and a Scotch cap in his
hand. That young physician is summoned away to Constantinople and has
come to ask Sergy for a passport. He is the son of a rich cattle-breeder
residing in Melbourne. I saw on his arm a white band with a red crescent
and the letters S.H.S. on it, indicating that he belonged to the
“Stafford House Society.” There is a great number of European doctors
attending the Turks in Erzeroum; nearly all the nations have sent their
contingents of medical men. These Christians in the Turkish service
produce rather a painful impression on me.
A telegraphic office is just opened. No telegram can be sent without
my husband’s permission as censor. Heaps of telegraphic despatches
are brought to him every day. The first telegram was sent by Sergy to
Ismail-Pasha, the former governor of Erzeroum, in which he congratulated
the Turkish warrior on the inauguration of the telegraph.
March 18th.—To-day my husband gave a grand dinner in honour of a dozen
officers belonging to the Turkish army who happen to be staying here at
present. A military band announced the arrival of our Turkish guests
by a loud march. The dinner was a very gay and long one, consisting of
twelve courses. Our guests, not being fanatics, did ample honour to the
champagne. I sat opposite Sergy, between Houssein-Pasha and Daniel-Bek,
a smart young officer of the Turkish staff, _aide-de-camp_ to the
celebrated Moukhtar-Pasha. This young Turk wore his fez jauntily on one
side, and looked quite European, having been educated in Paris. He has
been military attaché at the Turkish Embassy at St. Petersburg for three
years and speaks perfect French and Russian. Daniel-Bek surveyed me with
appraising eyes and set himself to be charming to me all through the
meal. I found him most amusing, and was soon chatting away to him as if I
had known him for years. Houssein-Pasha teased me all through dinner by
insinuating that his subordinate was paying court to me too openly.
March 19th.—It is Sunday to-day. We have attended mass at the Greek
Cathedral. Though it is situated far away from the centre of the town,
we proceeded thither on foot, escorted by Hamid-Bey, an officer attached
to the person of my husband, a dragoman, a Turkish zaptieh, and about a
dozen Cossacks. The attitude of the Armenian inhabitants that we met on
our way was most cordial and sympathetic towards us, but the Mussulmans
showed open hostility by the glances full of hatred that they cast upon
us. By these glances it was easy to distinguish the Turks from the
Armenians, notwithstanding the similitude of their garments.
The Greek Cathedral was erected in honour of St. George the Conqueror.
There is a throne in the middle for the Archbishop who said mass, arrayed
in his sacerdotal vestments; he wore on his head an immense mitre adorned
with the Byzantine Eagle. The prayers were sung in Greek with a very
nasal sound. Our Russian officers have made a present to this church of
the image of St. George with the following dedication: “In commemoration
of the sojourn of the Russian army in Erzeroum in the year 1878.”
We didn’t remain till the end of the service, for on that same morning a
requiem was sung in the Armenian Cathedral for the repose of the soul of
General Shelkovnikoff, my husband’s predecessor. I aroused much curiosity
and attention at church, where an enormous congregation had gathered. The
Cathedral appeared very imposing with all the wax lights and chandeliers
ablaze, and the Metropolitan looked magnificent, clad in a robe that
was stiff with gold embroideries. About a hundred chanters, in black and
red surplices, sang melodious hymns; from time to time choristers shook
big silver disks with much noise. The loud voice of the Metropolitan
was suddenly drowned by a deafening uproar above in the choirs. A
loud squabble arose among the Armenian women, who protested loudly at
seeing me down in the nave of the church where they were not allowed to
penetrate. As soon as the service was over the Metropolitan delivered
a long sermon of which we couldn’t make out a word. It proved to be an
ovation in favour of the Russians, as well as a demonstration against the
Turks. I fear that he will have to pay dearly for his eloquence as soon
as we leave Erzeroum. After service the Metropolitan invited us to have
a cup of tea. During our visit Sergy asked him the reason of the women’s
screams in the choirs, and he explained to us that it was quite natural
that the liberty given to European women had created an animosity between
these recluses, who protested against it in that noisy way.
We have spent the afternoon in paying calls in a victoria belonging to
General Heimann, the only carriage in all Erzeroum. After our visit to
Mme. Gilbert, we went to George Effendi, where we were received with
effusive cordiality. As soon as we were seated on a low divan, Turkish
coffee without sugar, and different sorts of preserves were served to us.
Oriental politeness required us to take a very small quantity of jam and
to drink a whole glass of water after it. When we got up to say good-bye,
George Effendi threw upon my shoulder a shawl of great price that I had
just admired, and his daughter undid her beautiful necklace of heavy
coins and clasped it round my neck. Of course I refused both presents
outright, but I was told afterwards that it was an Oriental custom to
offer as a present the object just praised. I will certainly abstain from
admiring anything in the future, because the natives say directly: “It is
yours, take it!” and that is very embarrassing.
When we got home we found an old Turk at our door who held a paper in
his hand. He was robbed the previous night and came to complain to my
husband. I had hardly time to take off my hat when three French sisters
of mercy were announced. After that came the Persian Consul, accompanied
by his interpreter. The Consul is a honey-tongued personage, who made
graceful speeches to me; flattering phrases came so readily to his lips,
and I did not particularly like him.
March 20th.—My riding habit of dark-blue cloth and a jacket made after
the style of a Turkish uniform, have just been brought to me. When I
appeared for the first time in that costume, Hamid-Bey saluted me in
military fashion because the sleeves of my habit were made with gold
embroideries like those of a pasha.
I spend much of my time in the saddle, accompanied by my husband
and a large suite. Such freedom given to the young “giaour,” is
incomprehensible to the inhabitants of Erzeroum, who find it very
improper. I have stirred up a stormy discussion in many Christian
families; newly married women begin to protest against the ancient order
of things, and the old ones, on the contrary, faithful to the ancient
traditions, show themselves indignant against European, liberal customs.
The Persian Consul has sent me this morning a large basket of fresh
oranges and lemons, which came from Trebizond, and Erzeroum is still
buried in snow. I had another present to-day, a splendid roasted
turkey-cock sent to me by the wife of the President of the Turkish
Municipal Council, who warned me of her visit, so as to be quite certain
of meeting no man in our house.
This evening about twenty doctors of Russian, English and Turkish
nationalities came to debate upon the indifferent sanitary conditions
of the town. During this winter about 1500 Russian soldiers have been
buried here; their graves were of such small depth that when the melting
of the snows had begun, many tombs were exposed to view and it was
necessary to fill them up once more. Doctor Remmert, the chief physician
of the army of the Caucasus, sent up to Erzeroum in order to inspect the
military hospitals, was agreeably surprised to see the town so clean
and so well arranged. The innumerable canals have been cleaned out and
the slaughter-houses banished from the town. The heaps of snow, of more
than three metres in height, that encumbered the streets, are completely
cleared away. The inhabitants, seeing the Russian workmen occupied with
the improvements of the general state of health of their own town say:
“How funny these Russians are to spend so much money for an affair that a
month later nature would do for nothing!”
In returning from our ride this morning we saw a group of mollahs
assembled before our house. They had come to complain against the Russian
police that had arrived to take an inventory of all their goods, and had
begun to make an account of their wives and cattle, it proved to be the
Sanitary Commission who were obtaining necessary information. My husband
took immediate measures to calm the population.
The Armenian-Catholic Archbishop, Melchisedec, called before dinner.
Though he is suavity itself, there is something about him which gives me
a feeling of distrust. He pretends to be very happy that the Russians
still occupy Erzeroum, and dreads our departure, fearing cruel treatment
from the Turks towards the Christian population.
March 21st.—My husband introduced an American clergyman to me this
morning, who is working as a missionary in Erzeroum. He has come to ask
Sergy to give him a large supply of bread and money, but Sergy said that
he could give him but a small sum. The Russian government has, in fact,
assigned a monthly subsidy for the poor population of Erzeroum, not only
for the Protestants, but for all the indigent, independent of their
religion or nationality.
Later on came Ibrahim Bey, one of the dignitaries of the town of Khnyss,
who had to proceed further on to Ernzindjane, the head-quarters of Ismail
Pasha. This Turk kissed the lappets of my husband’s coat slavishly, and
drew backwards towards the door, putting his hand to his forehead and
heart. As an example of Turkish barbarism I shall note an exploit that he
related to Sergy and of which he boasted, a truly disgusting story. At
Khnyss some Kurdes dug up the corpse of a Russian soldier and stripped
him of his clothes and boots. As a punishment for their sacrilegious
misdeed, Ibrahim Pasha obliged the Kurdes to eat these boots, chopped up
into small bits.
March 25th.—On account of ill-health, General Loris-Melikoff, by his own
request, was released from the command of the main army, which was given
over to General Heimann.
The contents of the political telegrams received to-day are rather
alarming; England decidedly plots a war afresh, and a rumour of the
approaching breaking of peace has spread in the town. We must be prepared
that the Turks will assail us at any moment.
This morning a soldier of the light infantry, belonging to the Malakani
sect, desiring to embrace the Orthodox religion, came to beg me to stand
Godmother to him. This soldier made a vow to be baptised if he escaped
war safely; he has been in all the fights without having received the
slightest wound, and thinks it proper now to fulfil his promise, I of
course consented willingly.
March 26th.—The baptism of the Malakan soldier took place to-day in the
Armenian cathedral, which was so crowded that the “cavasses” had to clear
a way for us to pass. The Metropolitan officiated in Greek and addressed
himself continually to me in that language. As I couldn’t understand a
word, I didn’t know how to answer and what to do, and was very comic, I
am sure, in repeating aloud the Greek phrases that he dictated to me.
Mr. Popoff, an officer of the light-infantry, acted as Godfather. Our
Godson had to be completely undressed, which took place behind a screen,
and then brought in to us covered only with a white sheet. I didn’t know
where to cast my eyes whilst he was being dipped in the font, which was
no other than the big soup-boiler of the brigade to which our Godson
belonged. I did not dare to glance at Sergy and pressed my lips together,
trying not to shake with laughter, and drew a breath of profound relief,
when I realised that the ceremony of baptism was over.
From church we went to visit the bride of Egueshi, our Armenian
interpreter. The walls of her sitting-room were all hung up with her
drawings, amongst which we saw the portrait of our Emperor painted
by our hostess in the space of two days, during the time when the
Christian inhabitants of Erzeroum expected their town to be invaded by
the Russians. Dreading to see our soldiers enter their homes by force,
in order to plunder them, they put out big wooden crosses before their
houses in the hope of mollifying the hearts of our soldiers, trusting to
escape thus from the general fate. Our hostess told us candidly that she
concealed that picture when the Turkish officials visited her house, but
during our visit the portrait of His Majesty occupied the place of honour.
To-day my husband has ordered Shefket Bey, one of the oldest members of
the Ottoman officers left in Erzeroum, to fire a cannon from the citadel
at twelve o’clock precisely, employing for that purpose a Turkish gun and
Turkish powder. Ten of our soldiers have been appointed for that special
service by Sergy. Shefket Bey was obliged to submit, swallowing his
wrath. He took it with outward meekness, whilst his eyes gave a flash,
and answered humbly, “_Pek-ei._” (I’ll obey you.)
Amongst the Turkish telegrams that my husband received this morning
there was one to Ismail Pasha with a complaint against Sergy for having
forbidden the Ottoman flag to be hoisted over the tower of the principal
citadel of Erzeroum. In answer to this telegram Ismail Pasha gave orders
that every command given by the Russian authorities should be strictly
executed.
Among the representatives of the different churches here it is only the
Mussulman “moufti” who has not presented himself to my husband. Yesterday
evening a group of Turkish inhabitants came to ask permission to hoist
their flag on Fridays, but Sergy told them that they interfered with
things that didn’t concern them, and that it was their “moufti” who had
to solicit this permission. The “moufti” arrived to-day accompanied by
a great number of white-bearded and white-turbaned “imams” (Mahometan
priests) dressed in long furred robes. This time my husband has given
them the permission to hoist their standard on Fridays, and has been
warmly thanked for it.
We had two interesting guests at dinner to-day, a young Persian prince,
nephew of the Shah, who serves as dragoon officer in the Russian army,
and is attached to the policemaster of Erzeroum for the present, and
Daniel Effendi, a Turkish bureaucrat, who was sent to Constantinople
last year as member of the new Turkish Parliament. After dinner, as we
sipped our coffee on the roof-terrace, Egueshi, with a rather scattered
expression, came up to Sergy and led him away, whispering something into
his ear. Later on I was informed that there had just been an earthquake,
and as the second shock is generally stronger than the first one, Egueshi
came to advise my husband to make us all come out into the street. Some
years before there had been such a terrible earthquake in Erzeroum that
the inhabitants were forced to camp out in the open air for a whole
month. After to-day’s earthquake one of the walls in the citadel has
partly fallen down, and a great number of houses have cracked. It’s very
strange that I haven’t felt anything at all, not the slightest shock. In
order to prevent accidents in Erzeroum, where earthquakes are frequent,
big beams are put into the masonries of nearly all the buildings. Two
great shocks and some slight ones have succeeded each other during
the night, and this time I felt them. It’s my first experience of an
earthquake, and my last one, I hope.
March 28th.—The weather being comparatively fine, we have taken a long
walk this afternoon in the direction of the Tap-Dagh, a beautiful valley
situated at the foot of a high mountain from whence one discovers the
source of the Euphrates, the famous Biblical river. Behind the Tap-Dagh,
according to Armenian traditions, Adam’s Paradise was situated, with
the two rivers mentioned in the descriptions of Elysium. This is where
fate has brought me. The scenery is said to be exquisite, the vegetation
luxurious.
The future is already brightened. The terms of the treaty of peace
have finally been signed at San-Sebastiano on the 1st of February.
This glorious piece of news has reached us only to-day in this
out-of-the-world place.
April 1st.—Mr. Kamsarakan, our Prefect of the Police, is a very jolly
fellow, fond of playing jokes on his friends. To-day, for instance, he
has invited to dinner all his acquaintances belonging to the Russian
colony whom he met in the street, promising them a splendid Russian
cabbage-pie. His guests rejoiced beforehand at the thought of partaking
of that famous national dish, but as they began to arrive, there was no
sign whatever of any preparations for dinner, and Kamsarakan’s servant
announced that his master was out and would probably not dine at home
to-day. The guests’ countenances expressed the blankest dismay; being
far from their fatherland no one had remembered that the first of April
was the day of traditional mystifications. As for Kamsarakan, he went
at the same time to Mr. Eritzeff’s, one of his invited guests, and asked
the servant to give him something to eat. He devoured all the supper, and
when poor Eritzeff returned home dismissed from Kamsarakan’s house, he
found himself deprived both of his dinner and his supper.
April 2nd.—The Catholics celebrate to-day their Palm-Sunday. We went
to their cathedral where Capuchin monks, in brown garments, wearing a
cord instead of a girdle, officiated. After mass we visited the school
directed by the French Sisters of Mercy. The Turks had shown themselves
very uncivil to these Sisters when they arrived at Erzeroum, but they got
accustomed to them afterwards, and begin now to esteem the good sisters
for their attendance on the sick and wounded.
April 4th.—Our Tartar servant Housnadine has arrived from Kars. He has
made that journey in sixteen days, being upset several times. Housnadine
has brought me different indispensable articles. Until now my wardrobe
was in a shocking condition; a small portmanteau contained all my
belongings.
We walked down to the ramparts this afternoon with the Gilberts, and
rambled over the old fort, surrounded by high massive walls through the
embrasures of which cannons are to be seen. During all these eight years
of their sojourn in Erzeroum the Gilberts are entering this citadel for
the first time, it had been _terra prohibita_ to all strangers up till
now. Pushing forward we climbed up a high tower by a narrow winding
staircase; my long habit was dreadfully in the way and I stumbled over it
continually. The citadel is now occupied by the Russian regiment of Bakou
and three or four scores of Turkish soldiers entrusted to watch over the
warehouse, who presented arms to my husband. There is a great bond of
sympathy between these Osmanlies and our soldiers; though not one of them
can speak a word of Turkish, they explained themselves quite easily in
a highly fantastic language of their own. Maksoud Effendi, the chief of
this small Turkish detachment bewitched us by his amiability and led us
to admire the edifice of _Chifket-Minaret_, a beautiful Arabian building
of the ninth century, with two formidable pillars of the Byzantine style
at the entrance. According to what the Armenians say a saint of their
nationality reposes in that minaret, but the Mussulmans pretend that it
is the burial place of one of their most celebrated “imams.” For the
moment this mausoleum, as well as the innermost recesses of that edifice,
are encumbered with guns, bombs, shells and other objects of but little
religious character.
April 6th.—The officers of the rifle battalion invited us to come and
take tea in their camp. At our approach a military band struck up
a march. The musicians were surrounded by a red-fezzed mob, and the
natives, generally lank and thin, looked contemptible little pieces of
humanity beside our tall portly soldiers. We were invited to dismount
and entered a great tent where we sat down at a long table. Our hosts
who were awfully nice to us, proposed a little refreshment and drank our
health.
April 7th.—Our landlord, an Italian chemist named Ricci, has transformed
himself into a famous physician here, his daughters go to the French
school and wear “tchartchaffs,” when they start out of doors. Eleonora,
the eldest Signorina Ricci, came in this afternoon to announce to me the
visit of the wife of the President of the Town Council; I ran to the
window and saw an _araba_ (a Turkish chariot,) covered inside with red
cloth approaching our house. The araba was drawn by a pair of beautiful
white bullocks, a red-fezzed boy of about twelve was following behind
mounted on a tiny pony, and two male servants were running on each side
of the vehicle. When the carriage stopped at our door, three women,
wrapped up in black veils, stepped out of the chariot and entered our
drawing-room. The President’s wife, an outrageously painted young
woman, was followed by her little son and two female slaves, a white
one and a negress; Turkish ladies of fashion never go out without their
attendants. The negress in her scarlet vestment with large printed black
flowers reminded me of “_Asucena_” the _Troubadour’s_ mother. She has
been brought over from Stamboul where her mother still resides in the
Sultan’s harem. This black Venus was bought by the President’s wife for
the sum of a thousand francs. Through Eleonora as interpreter, I was able
to carry on a conversation with my Turkish guests, in which harem life
was the only topic. The Mussulman women are incapable of seeing anything
beyond it, their souls are asleep, they are dull and unimaginative,
without any keen interests, and deplorably ignorant; most of them never
turn the leaves of a book or trace a word upon paper. The President’s
wife told me that she was surnamed “Blue Hanum” on account of her blue
eyes. She paid me a lot of compliments and appeared very astonished that
my husband allowed me to associate with men and that he permitted me to
appear before them unveiled. She plagued me with childish questions about
my sentiments towards my husband, and in her turn she related to me the
sensations that she experienced at the time when her husband had two
wives; both consorts cried bitterly each night when their Pasha gave his
preference to the rival spouse. She told me with a smile of satisfaction
that her rival died a few years ago, leaving her an undivided sovereignty
over her husband. Harem slavery begins at the age of twelve, till then
Turkish girls are as free as European children, but on her twelfth
birthday the girl becomes a woman, she adopts the “tchartchaff” and is
condemned to see the world darkly through a veil. Henceforth she is a
prisoner in the harem.
The negress slave proposed a nigger-boy to me, when suddenly the idea
struck her that I should wish to appropriate her little son, and she
hastened to warn me that he was a mulatto and not a thoroughbred nigger;
she told me that I could order one from Diarbekir, and that he wouldn’t
cost more than five hundred francs, and added that I could also procure
for myself from that same place a splendid young negress who could speak
several languages, but she warned me charitably that these learned
negresses were often unprincipled, and dangerous to keep, on account of
their propensity to seduce the master of the house! I replied laughingly
that in that case I should certainly prefer to buy a nigger boy. When
coffee was brought in, the negress and the slave sat down on their heels
upon the floor to sip it, they daren’t do it otherwise in the presence
of their mistress. After a while the negress asked permission to go and
smoke in the corridor; it was only a pretext to have a peep at Sergy
and his aide-de-camp, who were just then in the next room. In leaving
our house the President’s wife, who had severely remonstrated with the
negress for her improper curiosity revealed to her by her little son,
could not resist the temptation of stealing a glance at the imprisoned
gentlemen through the chink of the door. She invited me to come and see
her soon, promising to show me the best dancing girls (bayadères) in
Erzeroum.
Now, to turn to the other side of the medal, I must say that during
our stay at Erzeroum our roses weren’t entirely without thorns. The
typhus-fever continued to rage, and mowed down whole ranks of our
soldiers. Every day there were new victims. The Russian cemetery is quite
full now, and we are obliged to bury our soldiers in a common grave.
Nearly every morning I see sinister waggons carrying away the unfortunate
victims of this dreadful epidemic to their last dwelling-place. I shudder
when I think of it!
We are warned that a fanatic society under the name of “Avengers”
(Christian haters) is newly organised, and that we run great risks during
our rides through the bazaars and Turkish quarters.
April 8th.—To-day we revisited the camp of the light-infantry, desiring
to see my godson, the newly converted _Melakani_ soldier, who by the way,
is several years older than his godmother. I was horrified to hear that
he had just been sent to the hospital. Presently, amongst our soldiers,
the comparatively healthy ones are only those who have recovered already
from the typhus-fever; it is pitiful to see their pale and meagre faces.
Mr. Popoff told me that the sight of a Russian woman would help them to
forget, for a moment at least, that they find themselves in a strange and
hostile land, so far away from their native country.
April 12th.—To-day is Maundy-Thursday. The Catholic Archbishop has
invited us to assist at the ceremony of the washing of the feet of
twelve little boys belonging to the best Armenian families of Erzeroum.
These children dressed in long white garments and wearing crowns of
flowers on their heads, had taken their seats on a long bench, covered
with red cloth. After having each one bared the right foot, one of the
priests poured some water into a golden dish and the Archbishop, in rich
sacerdotal vestments, knelt before each of them on one knee, took the
bared foot, washed it and dried it with a towel. After this he offered
each child a lighted wax-taper and a box of bonbons tied with a green
ribbon.
In the evening a service was held in the dwelling of General Heimann, who
was in Kars at the present moment, dangerously ill. The reading aloud of
the twelve Evangelists by our Russian priest, in this foreign land, to
a mass of Russian officers each holding a wax-light, produced a great
impression upon me. After the second Evangelist an officer came into the
room, a telegram in his hand, and gave it over to my husband who perused
the despatch with an air of consternation, and whilst it passed from hand
to hand, I noticed the troubled expression of the faces about me. This
telegram announced the decease of General Heimann, carried off in five
days by the typhus. Is then the prediction of one of our friends going
to be realised? He said that we should all die here, and that none of us
should see his native land again; the turn of each one is the only thing
unknown to us. After the reading of the twelve Evangelists, a requiem was
sung for the peace of the soul of General Heimann.
April 13th.—The Russian colony at Erzeroum decided to celebrate the
Easter-night ceremony with great pomp; a rather difficult thing to do in
this Mussulman country. An attempt was made to illuminate the streets
leading to the Greek cathedral, but the inhabitants hadn’t the slightest
idea how to do it, and it was our house only which was lighted with
lanterns taken from “mosques.” When my husband had put on his uniform and
red ribbon, we proceeded to church on horseback, in complete obscurity,
with a dozen Cossacks and zaptiehs to protect us. It is very sad to feel
oneself in a Mussulman country on this great Christian feast. Nothing
recalls to mind the customary animation of that holy night; the streets
are so dark and silent! On approaching the cathedral we saw a detachment
of Russian soldiers standing under arms. The church was illuminated _a
giorno_ and filled with officers, soldiers and Christian inhabitants,
the latter take off their fezzes now in church, which they didn’t dare
to do before the entry of the Russians into Erzeroum. In a corner of
the cathedral lay heaps of painted eggs and Easter-cakes brought by
our soldiers to be blessed. Cannons were fired; the first shot was at
midnight precisely. After mass, my husband invited all the Russian colony
to supper. Our guests left us only at five o’clock in the morning.
April 14th.—On waking this morning I heard men’s voices singing in
chorus “Christ is risen!” It was a group of Cossacks who had come to
congratulate us with Easter-Sunday. Later on, from ten o’clock, visitors
of different nationalities continued to arrive until dinner-time.
It is reported that the Turks circulate exaggerated rumours about the
pitiful state of our troops and say that the moment for revenge against
the Christians has come. What troublesome times we are living through,
good God!
The Mussulmans had the custom of firing guns through the whole night
during the eclipses of the moon, but my husband has forbidden this now,
in order not to frighten the Christians.
April 17th.—It is the birthday of our Emperor to-day. After a Te Deum
in the Greek cathedral, there was a great review of our troops on the
square; four military bands executed our national hymn, whilst our
soldiers acclaimed their sovereign enthusiastically. The square was
crowded with lookers-on. Egueshi caught the drift of a dialogue between
an Armenian and a Turk; the Turk announced, pointing to the citadel from
whence discharges were heard: “The Russians are unable,” said he, “to
frighten us with their cannon-shots, one sees directly that these cannons
are not Turkish ones for they make too little noise.”
“You are much mistaken,” broke in the Armenian. “They are precisely
Turkish cannons, and it is Maksoud Effendi who has procured the
gunpowder.”
“Ah! now I see the reason why we are able to hear these cannon-shots,
for if they were Russian guns, they would not be heard at all from the
citadel,” concluded the Osmanlie, not a bit disconcerted.
In the afternoon the members of the Town Council came in to congratulate
my husband on the occasion of to-day’s solemnity; their President,
Mehamet-Ali-Bey was accompanied by a group of white-turbaned “mollahs.”
Sergy made a long speech to them, translated by Egueshi. He thanked them
for their activity, for the order that they maintained in the town, and
promised them to express to Ismail-Pasha his gratitude for having chosen
such worthy members for the municipal council; he ended his speech by
telling them that the Russians occupied Erzeroum by the will of God, and
that it was the duty of all the inhabitants to submit to their destiny
and to strictly obey our authorities. My husband made a rich present
to Ali-Effendi in the name of the Russian government; he gave him a
beautiful gold snuff-box, adorned with diamonds which cost 4000 francs.
I didn’t go out to-day, having to superintend the preparations for the
official dinner that Sergy gave to the Russian and Turkish authorities.
The table was richly decorated with flowers and fruits brought from
Tartoum, where they are admirably preserved; last year’s pears are
still quite fresh. At about six o’clock the musicians mounted on to the
roof of the opposite house by a ladder against the wall one after the
other; street-lads climbed up after them in such numbers that one was
obliged to turn them out for fear of the roof falling in. Another band
was placed in the street just under our balcony. From my window I saw
the Persian Consul approaching on his beautiful white Arab; in a few
moments our drawing-room was full of guests. My husband placed himself
at the centre of the table, having on one side the Metropolitan and on
the other the Armenian Archbishop; I was sitting opposite. The dinner
was very animated, much champagne was drunk. Maksoud-Effendi consumed
this stimulating beverage more than anyone; he embraced his neighbour,
Prince Tchavtchavadze, and exclaimed in a transport of tenderness: “If
war had continued, I would have killed you, perhaps, but now I kiss you
with all my heart!” My husband gave the first toast and drank to the
health of our Emperor; everybody stood up crying out “Hurra!” After that
Sergy exclaimed: “I drink to the duration of peace between Russia and the
friendly powers, France, Turkey and Persia, as well as to the health of
their representatives here present!”
The Metropolitan pronounced a long discourse in Armenian that Egueshi
translated to us; he said that the Emperor of Russia had always been
regarded with deep love and respect by the whole Christian population of
Asia, and that he, consequently, proposed a toast to the health of our
Monarch in the name of all the Armenians. Ali-Effendi, taking offence,
proposed to drink the health of our Emperor in the name of all the
Asiatic nationalities, without distinction of religion, as he could not
admit any difference between them. The Metropolitan, wishing to expiate
his awkwardness, held up his glass to Ali-Effendi, but the offended
Osmanlie feigned not to notice it, and removed his glass. Never will the
Koran and the Gospel, evidently, live in peace in Asia! Mons. Gilbert,
in his turn, after having spoken of the sympathy that existed between
France and Russia, exclaimed, “Long live Russia!” and my husband replied
immediately, “Long live France!” The Catholic Archbishop said something
very eloquent but rather incomprehensible. The last toast was drunk by
Sergy to the prosperity of Erzeroum, whatever fate should befall it.
After dinner we went out on the balcony and listened to the different
_potpourris_ on Russian national airs executed by our military bands. At
our appearance hundreds of voices exclaimed, “Long live the Emperor of
Russia!” It was night when the musicians returned to their camp, playing
marches all the time. They were followed by a throng of street boys who
carried their cymbals and their rolls of music.
April 18th.—On waking this morning I saw the street covered with snow,
which continued to fall in big flakes, and it is spring in Russia now!
Country, people, climate, everything is so gloomy out here!
In the afternoon I went on horseback to return my visit to the wife of
the President of the Town Council. Mme. Gilbert followed with Helena
in a cart procured by our ambulance people. Eleonora had entreated her
father to allow her to accompany us, but he refused outright, saying that
if the question was of visiting an Armenian or Greek family, he would
have willingly given his consent, but he would certainly never allow his
daughter to enter a Turkish harem.
The President’s wife met us at the entrance door and led us into her
private apartments, furnished in Turkish style with low sofas all round
the walls, on which sat, cross-legged, five Bayadères dressed in green
and pink robes; their faces were painted white and red, and their nails
dyed with henna juice. After a slight collation, which consisted of
coffee and different sorts of preserves served in silver vases, the
Bayadères began to dance, clinking castanettes. Four music-girls sat on
the floor and played the daira, a sort of cithern. Brandy and champagne
was offered to the Bayadères to put them into still more depraved
spirits, and they began to dance unlike anything I had ever seen. The
master of the house who sat in the next room with a score of male friends
left his door ajar, and the sight of these men inflamed the dancing-girls
still more, and they took such liberties that I didn’t dare to raise
my eyes from the carpet. When the Bayadères approached Helena, making
indecent gestures, my poor old nurse pushed them back, her eyes flashing
indignantly. Her speechless horror amused me enormously, and it was a
mercy that from the place where I sat I hadn’t Mme. Gilbert to exchange
glances with, or I couldn’t have remained serious. Our hostess seemed
astonished at Helena’s repulse and asked why she did it, and if it was
contrary to her religion? Anyone who reads this will suppose that I am
describing a house of ill fame, but, on the contrary, it is one of the
most respectable houses in Erzeroum, and all these enormities are of the
exigencies of harem life. The little son of our hostess, aged twelve, an
awfully vicious brat, was incapable of concealing the ardour with which
he was gazing upon the contortions of the Bayadères; he hardly heard when
he was spoken to.
Dinner was served _à la franca_, but there were knives and forks for
us only, our hosts did very well without them, helping themselves with
their fingers. The meal consisted of a score of meat and sweet dishes
intermingled. I did not know what I was eating, but was compelled to
taste everything, to refuse would be a great offence to our hostess, and
I resigned myself to swallow all sorts of nasty things. Our hostess,
according to the custom of the country, tasted every dish before it was
served to her guests, in order to prove that it wasn’t poisoned. During
the meal the son of our hostess behaved abominably. He tyrannised over
the poor little mulatto, the son of the negress slave, and was awfully
rude to his mother, daring to call her in our presence _kiopek_, which
means dog in Turkish. After dinner a large copper basin was brought in
to wash our hands, after which the dances were renewed. The face of one
of the Bayadères was completely veiled. I was told that this woman had
formerly been a prostitute. She is married now, but all the same she is
obliged to cover her face in remembrance of her bad life. When the time
came to bid good-bye to our hostess, I wanted to give a _bakshish_ (a
tip) to the dancing-girls, but she objected to this and told me that I
had far better invite them to come and dance in our house. I promised to
do it one of these days. I could not possibly imagine that our hostess’s
son, the perverse little despot, could show himself such a gallant
cavalier towards me. In parting he wanted absolutely to kiss me, and
declared that at first he had detested the Russians, but now he had seen
me, he liked me so much that his most ardent wish was that the Russians
would remain for ever in Erzeroum.
April 23rd.—To-day is the feast of the sapper battalion. Their chief,
Prince Toumanoff, begged me to assist at the Te Deum performed on their
camp, telling me that my presence would be a great treat to his officers
and soldiers. I couldn’t refuse his friendly invitation, and proceeded on
horseback to the camp. When prayers were over, the officers invited me
to partake of their repast served in a big tent. After Prince Toumanoff
had drunk my health, I took my courage in both hands and gave a toast to
the hospitality of our amiable hosts. An awful uproar arose, the officers
called for three cheers for me and the soldiers cried “Hurra,” throwing
their caps in the air. A small bazaar was just opposite the tent, with
nuts, plums, apples and different sweetmeats; Sergy bought the whole
contents and dealt them out to the soldiers.
At seven o’clock the sappers gave a banquet in the apartments of the
deceased General Heimann. I begged for Mme. Gilbert to be invited to that
dinner, so as not to be the only woman at that festival. Again numerous
toasts were given. Doctor Reitlinger, a thorough Dorpat student, stood
on a chair and gave a long discourse in praise of Erzeroum. When he had
ended, Prince Toumanoff exclaimed that he had forgotten to mention in
his panegyrics the most important point of all, namely, that Paradise
happened to be only a few miles off from here. Everybody laughed, for the
neighbourhood of Paradise was not perceptible in Erzeroum as we dabbled
in mud and snow close by this Paradise, whilst it was already spring-time
in Russia.
When we got home I went directly to bed, and was just falling asleep when
the sounds of a march playing under our windows awakened me. It proved
to be a group of sapper officers who had come to serenade me for having
taken part at their festival.
April 30th.—I have been unwell all these days and was obliged to remain
in bed. Yesterday I felt well enough to leave my room, and Mme. Gilbert
hastened to call on me. She threw her arms round my neck and nearly
strangled me with kisses, having been awfully anxious about me, for when
one falls ill in this blessed country, one is sent beforehand _ad patres_.
April 31st.—I called to-day on Signora Lavini, a curious specimen of a
Turkified European woman. She is the wife of an Italian druggist, who
has lived here for many years. Their daughter was born and educated
in Erzeroum, of which one is easily aware by her moral development.
Nevertheless her parents seem very proud of their offspring; they called
her up to exhibit her musical accomplishments before us. The young
_virtuose_ betook herself to the piano, and first played some scales on
the elderly instrument shockingly out of tune, toiling up and down the
piano, and giving her wrist and arm a tremendous jerk every time it was
her thumbs turn to go under. She ended her musical performance by the
traditional _Cloches du Monastère_.
Profiting by the improvement of the roads, a great number of Turkish
officers hasten to Erzeroum to see their families.
As soon as the pasture grounds were covered with grass, bands of
brigands, belonging to the Kurdish tribe, began to appear. The Ottoman
administration has tolerated the exploits of these highwaymen till now,
especially the deeds of a well known bandit named Mirza-Bek, who carried
in his expeditions his favourite wife, a young Circassian dressed in
masculine clothes; but we cannot maintain the same indifference to be
sure! Last night there was a robbery connected with murder in a village
near Erzeroum; the villains were immediately found and arrested. I saw
them this morning brought up to my husband, under a great escort. Oh,
how awful-looking they were! All in rags, with dark vicious faces and
rapacious glances resembling those of the hyena who dreads daylight
and human beings. We have been warned that a band of Kurds are going
to assault the cloister of “Kermirvank”; my husband has sent a dozen
Cossacks there and the would-be brave highwaymen hastened to run away. It
seems that the Kurds venture upon robbery-expeditions only when they are
sure of their grounds.
May 1st.—Our policemaster Kamsarakan organises all sorts of amusements
for me; to-day, for instance, in honour of the 1st of May, he arranged a
picnic out on the side of the Tap-Dagh. The Cossacks made a great fire
and we roasted potatoes and boiled water for our tea, after which we sat
down on carpets and did full justice to the contents of our luncheon
baskets. Crowds of people from the surrounding villages had gathered
around, and a mob of Armenian peasants organised a village-dance. We
followed their example, trying our feet in a waltz on the uneven ground,
the train of my long habit being very much in my way. A functionary of
the intendance, an enormous giant, looked so comic waltzing with a tiny
officer, who was scarcely up to his shoulder; it seemed all the time as
if he wanted to swallow up his undersized partner, or to jump over his
head. A group of Armenian urchins, armed with sticks instead of guns,
appeared under the command of a little chief, wearing a Russian cap on
his head and paper epaulettes; they looked like small lead-warriors taken
out of a toy box. These boys executed all sorts of military evolutions,
mimicking the training of our soldiers.
On our way home we visited a Turkish Coffee house. We entered a paved
courtyard with a fountain basin in the middle, surrounded by big yellow
flowers. The customers were sitting around the basin on low cushions;
some of them were sipping their coffee and others smoked their narghile,
passing it by turns from neighbour to neighbour. Thus occupied, the
Turkish smokers pondered meditatively, whilst the Greeks and the
Armenians argued about their commercial affairs. This coffee-house
consists of several lofty rooms. In one of them the proprietor was
sitting proudly behind his bar; a quantity of narghiles of all
dimensions, richly adorned with gold and silver ornaments, lay in rows on
the shelves fixed all around the wall. In the next room a barber worked,
shaving a greater number of skulls than beards.
May 5th.—A Russian employer has been insulted this morning by an
individual serving in the Persian Consulate, who called him a lot of
bad names. The man came to complain to my husband just when the Persian
Consul was announced. The culpable Persian was speedily sent for and
brought in under the escort of a Russian gendarme and a Turkish kavass.
The interview was not pleasant. Sergy told the Persian that it was only
out of regard to his Consul that a severe punishment was not imposed
upon him by the Russian authorities; he was handed over entirely to the
discretion of his Consul.
May 8th.—Yesterday we went to a ball given at the Casino, the building of
the ancient “seraglio,” where all the festivities were organised before,
being now transformed into a hospital for the Turkish wounded soldiers.
This ball was to be a grand affair, the arrangements were splendid; the
ball-room was fitted up as a big Turkish tent, decorated with plants
and flowers. I had to sign a large packet of invitations for that ball,
printed on gilt-edged paper, which indicated a long sojourn in the
shop by its yellowish colour. This ball sowed discord in many Armenian
families; the fair sex wanted to assist at it but the unfair protested
energetically. Bulerian, one of the richest Armenians of Erzeroum, had
proclaimed publicly that his compatriots who dared to conduct their
families to that ball would have to pay dearly for it when Erzeroum
was given back to the Turks. Bulerian was responsible for his reckless
speech; after having been smartly lectured for it, he has undergone the
most infamous Asiatic punishment, which was, being forbidden to mount his
horse for a whole month.
The ball was a great success, and the whole entertainment went off
admirably. Many Christian inhabitants brought their families to this
ball; elderly Armenians and Greek matrons, gorgeously dressed, sat
against the wall, and watched our dancing. Supper was served for two
hundred persons, and continued till very late. We returned home at
dawn, escorted by a military band. We had two Turks at dinner to-day,
Ismael-Bey and Maksoud-Effendi. I could hardly keep from laughing in
looking at the desperate efforts that they made in serving themselves
with their knives and forks; how gladly they would have thrown away these
instruments of torture to be able to tear their meat with their fingers!
May 30th.—This afternoon we made an excursion to the banks of the
Euphrates. After having made about five miles on horseback, we arrived
at a sort of paved dike, which seemed to have been built by giants;
the stones are so enormous that it is quite incomprehensible how human
beings could handle them. For many centuries whole generations have
gone over this ancient dike without its being necessary to mend it. The
Euphrates is very broad in this part, and in full rise just now. Frogs
were croaking around us, and whole flocks of wild geese dived about ten
steps from us; their tranquillity, as it seems, is rarely troubled by
musket-shots. On the middle of the river a boatman was rowing his yawl,
cut out of the trunk of an enormous tree, with a long perch.
On our way home we stopped at “Kian,” a small village where we created
a great sensation, and were stared at as if we were beings from another
world. The women crowded around; one of them determined to examine me
closely grasped my arm exclaiming, “I have touched her, she is alive!”
(Did she suppose that I was a wax-doll?)
May 11th.—This morning a Turkish woman, holding a small boy dressed
in the uniform of a pasha by the hand, has come with a petition to my
husband. She began to relate different exploits of her ancestors, and
concluded her long narrative by requesting Sergy to procure her means to
return to Constantinople, her native town. Sergy tried to explain to her
that the services rendered by her forefathers had nothing to do with the
Russian government, but she continued to beg, and having received the
sum that she requested, she whispered something to her little son, who
came up to our interpreter and announced to him that he too, wanted a
_bakshish_.
We went to visit the Christian schools in the afternoon. In the Catholic
school one directly sees the active intervention of the clergy. The
Archbishop Melchisedec takes a great part in the education of the
children; the director and the tutors are all priests. The best scholars
are sent to Rome and Venice to finish their studies. The pupils repeated
compliments of welcome to us in French, and expressed their gratitude to
our Emperor for the protection that His Majesty accorded to the Christian
inhabitants of Erzeroum. The Greek school is also considered as a part of
the church, but the priests do not assist in the teaching. The director
of this school showed us his establishment in detail. It contains two
hundred scholars of both sexes. Till the age of twelve boys and girls
study together; they are taught both Greek and Turkish. This school being
of the Orthodox creed, received a monthly subsidy of fifteen francs
before the beginning of the war, now my husband has offered the sum of
four thousand francs yearly as a support to the school. In the evening
the Greek deputy came to thank Sergy for this rich offering; they told
him that the remembrance of his generosity would remain for ever in their
hearts as also in the hearts of their children.
May 14th.—My husband has received an important despatch from
Constantinople, a circular of orders from the “Grand Vizir” to the high
Turkish functionaries. Sergy thus acts the part of an Ottoman Pasha,
which amuses me greatly.
After dinner we rode over to Abdurakman-Kazi, an antique mosque
containing the mausoleum of a renowned Turkish saint and also a score of
rooms for pilgrims. This monastery, on the mountain side looks splendid.
May 15th.—Yesterday on our way home from the cloister of Abdurakman-Kazi,
we saw on our way some bomb shells. This morning, a little shepherd
turned over one of these shells, which exploded and tore the poor lad to
pieces.
May 17th.—Striving to invent all sorts of distractions in order to
raise the drooping spirits of our Russian colony, horribly depressed
by the epidemic of typhus-fever, we have organised races on a track
of three miles. To-day a large crowd of inhabitants surrounded the
racing-place. There were seven concurrent events—five Cossack and two
native. When they started I followed them attentively, fearing to see
our Cossacks outridden by the Turks. To my great joy a young Cossack
gained the first prize, the sum of four hundred francs. He mounted a tiny
insignificant-looking horse that he had bought at Khiva for forty francs.
The Cossack was accompanied up to town in triumph by a big crowd, and two
military bands.
May 21st.—The benediction of the common tomb of the soldiers of the
regiment of Bakou, killed during the assault of the fort Azizie, took
place this morning. A year has glided away, the fate of Erzeroum has
changed, and this same regiment of Bakou holds garrison now in this fort.
Egueshi related to us the cruelties committed by the Mussulmans during
that siege. He pointed out a Turkish woman who had cut the throats of
many wounded Russian soldiers, thus avenging herself for the death of
her husband on the battle field. The enormous tomb has been done up with
stones, and a big wooden cross is fixed in the middle.
During the Requiem, at which I assisted on horseback, all the soldiers
knelt down and prayed fervently for their comrades, the brave warriors
who are sleeping their eternal sleep in this Mussulman ground.
After dinner we arranged an expedition to the monastery of
Loussavoritch-Vank, situated about six miles outside the town. This
monastery, built on the top of a high mountain and surrounded by a
stone-wall, resembles a castle of the middle-ages. Three sides of this
cloister are perpendicular and the fourth one, by which one mounts, is
planted with a row of fine trees, an agreeable contrast to the rocky
scenery all around. Two monks composed the whole establishment; one of
them, at our approach, began to toll a bell, whilst his companion came
out to meet us, holding a big silver cross in his hand. He led us into
the church, where he performed a Te Deum and made us descend afterwards
into a dark dungeon where, according to a legend, Saint-Gregory, the
propagator of Christianity, had taken refuge during the persecution of
the Christians. We also visited an antique underground church, making
our way to it by narrow dark passages. I drew a long breath when I found
myself in the open air once more. On our way home we were overtaken by
a terrible thunderstorm, which didn’t last long, but was followed by a
dreadful shower of rain. We put on mackintoshes with caps, which made us
look like highwaymen, but we all got a thorough drenching, nevertheless.
May 27th.—The snow in the mountains transforms itself when thawing into
big clouds, and it pours with rain nearly every day. The top of the
“Palantek” is a capital weather-prophet; when there are no clouds on the
summit, even if the sky is heavy all around, it will not rain that day,
and vice versa. From our sitting-room one can watch the mountains, and
this barometer is of great use to us during our rides.
There was an awful storm last night; the wind shook our house to its very
foundation, it seemed as though it must be caught up and hurled headlong.
I’ve never seen such dazzling flashes of lightning before, nor heard
such formidable thunderbolts reverberating loudly with an echo in the
mountains. I was in a terrible fright all the time lest the flag-staff,
put on the top of our roof, would be struck by lightning. The rain came
in through the ceilings; I can well imagine what was taking place in the
other houses in Erzeroum which had no clay roofs like ours.
May 28th.—A very disagreeable incident occurred last night, a
musket-ball whizzed close past the sentry on duty near the guard-house.
Investigations were made and the inhabitants handed over a Turkish
solider this morning, who said that in jumping over a wall he had
awkwardly let fall his gun, which fired itself. The culprit is arrested.
During our evening ride along the line of the fortifications, a bullet
flew past me and made my horse start. The misunderstanding explained
itself. The Cossacks of our escort were ready to retaliate, when it
proved to be simply a Russian officer who, shooting at a target, did not
perceive that his bullets passed over the ramparts. All the same it is
evident that I stood in imminent danger of being shot through the body,
and feel myself trained up in war now, having experienced the baptism of
fire, which is a very peculiar feeling, indeed!
May 29th.—Troubles have arisen again. There has been a fresh underhand
musket-shot which took place in town this morning. This time the
ball lodged itself in the wall of a house inhabited by one of our
functionaries. A group of “imams” from different parts of Erzeroum were
gathered, and the order was given to them to find out the culprit, under
the threat of making the whole Mussulman quarter responsible for his
misdeed, and to deliver him immediately into the hands of the Russian
authorities, as also all the fire-arms that the Turkish government
had dealt out to the inhabitants during the blockade of Erzeroum. The
“imams” listened woefully to the proclamation of that severe decree, and
presented, a few hours later as culprit, the single Christian inhabitant
of their quarter; it is quite evident that they accuse him wrongfully.
There came a telegram to-day which announced that a ratification of peace
was going to be opened in Berlin on the 12th of June. That’s a new gleam
of hope that we shall soon leave Erzeroum.
I have often heard military bands playing in the streets of Erzeroum,
but they generally executed funeral marches, whilst platoons of soldiers
accompanied their chiefs, victims of the terrible epidemic, to their last
dwelling-place, and one can easily conceive my joy when I perceived from
my window the first detachment destined to reinforce our army, entering
Erzeroum this morning, preceded by a military band. The Mussulmans must
be very much annoyed to see our troops increasing, as up till now the
number of our soldiers diminished every day.
May 30th.—The Persian Consul presented Sergy with the portrait of the
Shah and a piece of poetry which states that this portrait is given to
the Russian governor of Erzeroum in token of gratitude for his kindness
to the Persian inhabitants.
Though the sky was perfectly clear this evening, Egueshi warned us,
pointing to the “Palantek,” that there would be a shower before long,
but we, all the same, started on our habitual ride, but had not gone
half a mile when there came the rumble of thunder from afar; a flash of
lightning shot across the sky and the rain came down in torrents. We
galloped at full speed towards the village of Shakk, not far off, and
took refuge under the roof of an old Armenian priest. On the walls of
his parlour hung a whole gallery of pictures cut from French illustrated
papers, representing chiefly heroes of the Russo-Turkish war, a present
left for our host by a Russian officer who had put up at his house for a
time. I wonder if the originals of these portraits will ever know that
their visages adorn the walls of a humble cottage situated in one of the
remotest parts of Asia Minor. On our way home we admired the beautiful
growth of the wheat; the plain of Erzeroum being abundantly irrigated,
the harvests are usually splendid, everything looks so green and fresh.
May 31st.—Storm clouds gathered again on the heights of the “Palantek”
this evening. We had scarcely reached the camp when large drops began to
fall and the storm came down in rolling thunder and lashing rain. Sergy
hurried me into a great coat but nevertheless I got wet through. In an
instant the whole camp, situated on a declivity, was furrowed by the
impetuous torrents, and the water rushed in streams over the ground. When
we reached the riflemen’s camp, we dismounted and ran into Mr. Popoff’s
tent for shelter until the storm should clear away. In returning we had
to go over gutters, which was difficult on account of their being full
of foaming water. We saw a drove of cattle returning from the pasture
grounds which found itself in great trouble before a usually dry ditch
transformed for the moment into a torrent. The shepherds, mounted on
donkeys, tried by gestures and voice to force the cattle to enter the
water, in order to reach the other bank, but it was no easy matter; the
cows ended by obeying, but the donkeys resisted energetically and nothing
could be done with them.
The proprietor of the house inhabited by Eritzeff, a Persian who was
noted for his vanity, stinginess, and cowardice, was determined to obtain
a Russian decoration. He was a fearful bore to his tenant, repeating to
him at every favourable moment his desire to be useful to the Russian
government. Eritzeff lost his patience at last and determined to play him
a trick; he announced confidently to him that he was sent on a serious
mission to Bagdad and offered him to be his interpreter; Eritzeff also
warned him that he was to fit himself suitably for that long journey.
The Persian was delighted and replied that the expenses of equipment
would not be a drawback, and in fact he delivered himself, in spite of
his stinginess, to mad prodigalities; he bought a horse, a new saddle, a
white mackintosh and a pair of yellow jack-boots. His family could not
understand whither he was starting, but submitted to Providence, and when
the day of departure arrived, they all kissed and cried over him.
A dinner for the sham-parting was given to Eritzeff in the Mussulman
monastery of Abdurakman-Kazi, after which our would-be travellers were to
start. During the meal a Cossack was to appear and hand over to Eritzeff
a counter-order of departure. Unluckily someone had the awkwardness of
revealing that plot before the repast began, nevertheless the guests were
immensely amused. In fact, the poor Persian was such a picture to look
at, equipped in his great mantle, his seven-leagued boots, furnished
with gigantic spurs that reached well up to his calves, and armed up
to the tip-top, sword and pistols in his sash; he was literally the
personification of “Don Quixote.” The poor creature looked as if he
wasn’t quite sure at first whether he was standing on his head or on his
heels, but he soon controlled himself and bore his disappointment with
serene resignation. Trying to put a good face on the matter, he regaled
everyone with the big oranges that he had crammed into his pockets to
quench his thirst during his long journey, and calling to mind a Persian
song named, “I went in three days to Bagdad,” he said good-humouredly. As
to me I have made the trip much quicker!
This Persian was the hero of a new pleasant adventure. Last night,
returning home, he perceived at the corner of his house someone smoking
behind the fountain; only the tip of a lighted cigarette could be seen.
“Hello! who goes there?” he challenged the mysterious smoker loudly, but
got no answer. “What are you doing there behind that fountain?” Complete
silence again. “Brigands for sure!” vociferated the valiant Persian, and
dashing into his house he returned reinforced by his servant, provided
with a pistol which he pointed at the would-be malefactor, who continued
to smoke peacefully. The fact is that there was no brigand whatever;
it proved to be simply the tip of a lighted cigarette laid down on the
border of the fountain by some nocturnal passer-by.
June 1st.—General Lazareff has come to Erzeroum to replace General
Heimann. The Armenian inhabitants awaited him with impatience, very
proud that he was the second commander of the main army of their own
nationality. From early morning the whole town was put into a fluster;
the native women established themselves upon their roofs at daybreak,
wishing to see the new Russian mouchir enter Erzeroum. As I also wished
to be present, I accepted readily the Gilberts’ invitation to come on
their balcony which looked out into the square where the Guards of
Honour, and a great number of officers in grand uniform, had assembled.
Towards ten o’clock we heard the clamour of hurras and soon perceived a
crowd of inhabitants coming up, followed by two hundred Cossacks with big
banners; behind them rode General Lazareff, accompanied by a numerous
suite.
June 5th.—Kirkor-Effendi Schabanian gave an evening-party to-day.
We remained in his fantastic garden, illuminated with many coloured
lanterns, till late, admiring the gorgeous costumes of his Asiatic guests
who promenaded round a marble fountain full of goldfish. It was all like
a scene from the Arabian nights.
June 9th.—This morning we have visited the mill of Kireh-Bulak, the
prettiest spot in the neighbourhood, situated in a narrow pass about
eight miles from town. We brought our luncheon with us, hard boiled eggs,
biscuits and salt in an envelope, and ate it with great appetite in this
nice, cool resting-place. Large trees grow all around and a rapid torrent
falls from high cliffs in a roaring cascade white with foam; the noise of
the mill at work sounded close by.
June 10th.—To-day a gala banquet was given at the Casino by Ali-Effendi.
The most cordial union seemed to reign between the Russians and
Mussulmans, but was it all very sincere? At the end of the repast,
when the champagne had loosened the tongues and quickened the spirits,
Maksoud-Effendi came up to the Persian Consul, glass in hand, and
proposed to drink to his health, but the Persian, a water-drinker, like
every good Mussulman, refused the toast, at which Maksoud-Effendi took
offence, and flying into a passion, dashed the contents of his glass into
the face of the astounded Persian and vociferated with furious eyes and
face aflame: “Ah, you wouldn’t drink to my health by mere politeness,
well, do it now by mere force!” The Consul started up wiping his face and
his clothes, muttering a prayer to be purified from the stains of wine.
June 12th.—To-day passing before the Casino, M. Gilbert witnessed a
completely unusual event. He saw a mounted Cossack officer climbing up
the steep wooden staircase leading into the Casino; after having made
a tour through all the apartments that officer returned the same way,
without having run against anyone or anything. This equestrian prank
made a strong impression upon a group of Turks who were standing in the
street, they said that only a Cossack officer was capable of such a wild
deed, because in their opinion all the Cossacks were possessed by the
_schaitan_ (the devil).
A fancy took me to drive with Mme. Gilbert to the monastery of
Abdurakman-Kazi in an _araba_, a cart drawn by a pair of oxen, for
thousands of years the unchanged mode of conveyance in Turkey, a mode of
locomotion more comfortable than dignified, to be sure. The _araba_ was
furnished with carpets and cushions, and the oxen adorned with flowers
and ribbons. I undertook to perform the part of driver, and succeeded to
put my phlegmatic bullocks into a sharp trot.
June 20th.—Last night we visited the village of Laouk, inhabited by
Christians and Mussulmans. My husband asked a white-bearded “imam” if the
Armenians and the Turks lived on good terms with each other, and that old
Osmanlie for answer, in order to prove his affection, tenderly embraced
an Armenian priest who stood by. I wonder if these individuals will kiss
each other when the Turks have re-entered Erzeroum!
June 22nd.—About a hundred fierce-looking men, who had formerly belonged
to the brigand band of the famous Mechrali, assembled before our house
after dinner with their chief, Temir-Aga, who is seventy years old but
still as brisk and nimble as a young man. He had previously been chief
of a band of highwaymen who had spread terror through all Anatolia about
twenty years before. The Turkish Government could find no other means
to subdue him than to appoint him chief of one of the districts in the
province of Erzeroum. Temir-Aga profited by every available occasion to
assure my husband of his entire devotedness. Sergy sent for these men to
ascertain that they had received their soldiers’ pay regularly. They were
not pleasant men to meet in a dark lane, and are to be watched closely
all the time, in order to prevent them from troubling the peace of the
citizens.
July 4th.—There has been a conflict between a band of Kurds and Turks
about twenty miles from Erzeroum; about a dozen Kurds were wounded
and the rest of them made prisoners. Temir-Aga, who captured these
highwaymen, brought them over to my husband this morning. I saw them
advancing slowly towards our house, between a body-guard of Turkish
soldiers, with their hands fastened behind their backs, having awfully
ferocious expressions.
July 6th.—This morning we heard the welcome tidings that a private
agreement had been decided upon between Russia, England and Prussia. God
grant war won’t begin anew!
To-day, in spite of the peaceful issue of the Congress in Berlin,
a violent fighting broke out in Erzeroum between the Christian and
Mussulman street-boys. The Armenians fought energetically and knocked
down their adversaries, shouting, “Long live the Emperor of Russia!”
Time is going on and we are still in Erzeroum, and though the certitude
that war won’t begin anew tranquillises me, still the ignorance in which
we find ourselves about the time of our departure is very hard to bear.
The Catholic Archbishop invited us to assist at the distribution of
prizes at his school. After we were seated at the head of a long table,
the Sisters of Mercy presented to us the pupils deserving prizes, and I
had to adorn them with crowns of flowers. After that the pupils played
on the piano to us and recited French and Armenian poetry; then the
Archbishop led us into his library which contains rare and curious books,
amidst which we saw a manuscript of the Lord’s prayer written in fifty
different languages.
July 10th.—The influence which the Russians exercise on the outward life
of the Christian population is so great that the Armenian inhabitants
have decided to organise a theatre in Erzeroum, an ignored luxury at the
time of the sovereignty of the Turks. A stage with a score of boxes has
been built in a spacious cart-house; the curtain represents an allegory
of Armenia amidst a heap of ruins. In these amateur performances all the
women’s parts are played by men.
August 1st.—According to a Turkish legend, the eclipse of the moon
proceeds from a “Flying Dragon” attempting to swallow up that planet.
In order to prevent the monster from realising his sinister project,
the native women climb on to their roofs and make a dreadful noise with
different brass instruments to frighten the “Dragon” away, whilst the men
discharge a number of musket-shots. Yesterday, for instance, there was an
eclipse, but this time the inhabitants were strictly forbidden to shoot.
To-day an organ-grinder arrived from “San Stefano” and played the whole
evening under our windows; he was surrounded by a throng of street-boys,
who examined his instrument, completely unknown to them, with much
curiosity.
August 9th.—This afternoon we took a trip along the right shore of the
Euphrates. We came to an ancient grotto close to a basin of mineral
water, about half a mile from the best quarries of the country. The
stones drawn out of them are of various colours and serve for the
construction of houses. The echo in these crypts, which served in former
times as shelter to hermits, is remarkably sonorous. At present the
natives who go on a pilgrimage to the Mussulman monastery of Hatcha-Vank,
usually make a halt here. We sat down on a carpet spread under an immense
tree and rested in dreamy quiet within its shade, near a big trench for
irrigation filled with foaming water. The Cossacks of our escort made a
fire and roasted potatoes in that sheltered nook, and the inhabitants of
the neighbouring village brought jugs of excellent milk, new-laid eggs
and salmon-trout that they had just caught close by. We returned home
only at nightfall.
August 15th.—A Turkish kavass came this morning to complain that
an Armenian zaptieh had insulted him and torn off his galoons. The
Armenians, dazed by their momentary success after the arrival of General
Lazareff, are very rude towards the Turkish inhabitants. As to the sly
Greeks, they assume an entirely different behaviour, making themselves
agreeable both to the Christians and Mussulmans.
A telegram has just arrived announcing that the Russians are to leave
Erzeroum directly after the surrender of Batoum. Parleys with Turkish
authorities are going to be immediately entered upon. Oh, what joy, joy,
joy! It is almost too good to be true!
August 24th.—From to-day the Mussulmans are beginning to feast their
“Ramadan,” when they are obliged to fast till night-time. At nine o’clock
precisely, as soon as a cannon-shot has announced the termination of
fasting, which lasts again from dawn till the new sunset, the Turks revel
frantically, eating, drinking and smoking to their heart’s content.
Hamid-Bek, who is possessed with a ravenous appetite, spends his
afternoons in contemplating the citadel, and as soon as he perceives a
little smoke arise, foretelling the cannon-shot, he rushes into his house
to devour his supper, in the company of his wives who are as famishing as
himself.
The Gilberts have left Erzeroum for good this morning. I got up very
early to bid them good-bye, and saw two enormous vans standing before
their house-porch. One of these vans was to serve as a carriage, for
there are no post-chaises to be had in Erzeroum, and the other vehicle
was assigned for the luggage. When everything was ready for starting,
the Gilberts clambered into their waggon which began to move, jolting
heavily on the rough pavement, and soon disappeared out of sight round
the corner of the street. I was awfully sad to lose the Gilberts, but the
thought that we should soon follow their example, consoled me.
August 28th.—A telegraphic message has just arrived announcing the
surrender of Batoum. The official orders of the giving up of that town to
the Turks will come to-morrow. Now we shall be able to get away soon; I
am wildly, madly happy!
I have been awakened this morning by the sounds of a loud conversation
under our windows. An Armenian merchant came to complain that a score of
Turks had forced themselves into his house last night, and after having
bound him up with strong cords, they wanted to carry away his wife, a
mere child of fifteen. This incident gave rise to a great commotion
among the Armenians; our approaching departure terrifies them. We have
not left Erzeroum yet and the Turks have already begun to fulfil their
threats. The whole town is in excitement, all the shops are closed.
I hear the toll of the alarm-bell chiming for the assembling of the
Christian inhabitants. Just before lunch my husband was told that several
thousands of Armenians who had gathered before the dwelling of their
Metropolitan, were now advancing towards our house and we already heard
the ominous sound of treading feet and clamorous voices in the distance.
In a second I was on the balcony and the first thing I saw was the
figure of the Metropolitan making his way through a tumultuous throng
of people, closely followed by all the members of the Town Council, in
about two minutes there was a crowd of several hundred people about
our house. I heard the roaring voices of an excited mob from below;
wherever I looked I saw a sea of anxious faces and gesticulating arms and
hands. The confusion became greater with every moment. Notwithstanding
my entreaties, Sergy came out on the balcony with the Metropolitan and
policemaster, who explained to me that this noisy crowd had come to
entreat my husband to permit them to emigrate to Russia. The Armenians,
who completely lost their heads and thought that their end was drawing
nigh, wanted to follow us to Russia and declared they would not stir
from the spot until they got a favourable answer from my husband. I was
terrified beyond words when I saw an individual drawing a pistol out
of his pocket and pointing it at us exclaiming: “In mercy kill me, I
prefer to perish from your hands rather than be left to the mercy of
the Turks!” The policemaster, escorted by his agents, went down into
the street in order to exhort the mob to disperse, but the infuriated
Armenians continued to roar under our balcony; then Sergy addressed
the crowd, persuading them to be quiet and promising that he would not
leave Erzeroum before the Turkish army arrived, and that order would
be maintained in the town till then. These words were greeted with a
wild yell of exultation from the crowding masses, and the noise of the
multitude gradually decreased. Oh! it was a scene and an experience I
shall certainly never forget! My husband ordered the number of patrols in
the streets to be increased, and after dinner we rode through the Turkish
bazaars in order to tranquillise the affrighted Christian inhabitants.
August 29th.—Order in town is reinstated. The merchants are beginning
to open their shops, but before luncheon a new mob has gathered outside
our house. This time the inhabitants of the neighbouring villages have
assembled to beg for permission to emigrate to Russia, preferring rather
to risk the uncertain future than to suffer the yoke of the Turks; but
Sergy had to tell them that there was no convenient ground in our country
to give them.
A rumour has spread that “Mechrali,” the famous brigand whose daring was
boundless, hearing of the Turkish occupation of Erzeroum, hastened to
come here, and is now promenading in the streets without fear.
September 1st.—During our ride this evening I was very happy to see
our camp diminishing; the regiment of Elizabethpol has left Erzeroum
to-day, and the rest of our troops will depart in a few days. The
Greek and Armenians that we met in the streets appeared to me greatly
discouraged and very much depressed, but I remarked that they changed
their countenances instantly and looked quite cheerful the moment they
perceived a Turkish officer.
September 5th.—Hadji-Houssein-Pasha, my husband’s successor, has
arrived this morning with his policemaster and a squadron of “souvaris”
(dragoons;) he has got orders to assist at the surrender of the
town. Ismail-Pasha has sent an express command to the “mollahs” and
other Mussulman representatives to maintain strict order in town.
Houssein-Pasha paid us an official visit in the afternoon. He is an old
man with a long white beard and rather an inexpressive face. Out of my
window I saw him approach our house mounted on a beautiful Arab steed
whose saddle sparkled with gildings and glittered blindingly in the sun.
September 6th.—A great many Christian and Mussulman inhabitants, who held
different posts in the Russian administration of Erzeroum, have been
gratified with presents and decorated with medals, therefore various
deputations have come to take leave of us, assuring my husband of their
deep gratitude and sympathy.
September 7th.—Great animation in town to-day on account of the arrival
of Moussa-Pasha, the chief of the Turkish army in Asia-Minor. The Russian
commander of the citadel with a squadron of dragoons and a military band
has gone out to meet him as far as the Postern of Kars. At about ten
o’clock in the morning a Guard of Honour was placed before the house of
the Mouchir. We mounted on the roof of the Turkish military school, from
whence we could see the road leading to Trebizond. We waited a long time;
at last sounds of music were heard from afar, a cloud of dust arose, and
we discerned long files of cavalry. Our dragoons rode ahead, bringing
in the Turkish commander mounted on a splendid horse and surrounded by
a numerous suite. The Turkish troops brought up the rear. As soon as
Moussa-Pasha perceived my husband he waved his hand to him exclaiming
in perfect Russian: “Your Excellency, how happy I am to see you!”
Moussa-Pasha is an aborigine of the Caucasus; he has been educated in St.
Petersburg in the _Corps des Pages_, and has served a long time in the
Russian army. It is only since he rose to the rank of general, that he
turned traitor and went back to the Turkish government.
Moussa-Pasha dismounted and came up on to our roof to give my husband a
warm greeting, holding out both hands. Then, in sight of the whole crowd
of bewildered Turks, he kissed my hand gallantly. After having seated
himself between us, the Mouchir ordered his troops to continue their
march through the town, meanwhile being awfully nice to me; he expressed
his satisfaction that I hadn’t left Erzeroum before his arrival and told
me that the rumours of my stay in Erzeroum had reached Constantinople,
and that my bravery was held up as an example to the Turkish officers
and soldiers. He also related to me that prude, Ismail-Pasha, was
highly displeased that I rode through the streets of Erzeroum in the
company of men and with my face uncovered, pretending that it thoroughly
offended the notion of propriety in the Turkish and Armenian families.
When the infantry had passed, Moussa-Pasha took leave of us and rode
off whilst his troops continued to defile. Each battalion was preceded
by sappers, each carrying a hatchet. The Turkish soldiers had a fine
deportment and marched in good order, but their officers looked oldish
and round-shouldered. The batteries began to defile now, followed by a
regiment of “souvaris” (dragoons) in brilliant uniforms, laid all over
with red and yellow galoons. Closed arabas, occupied by the families
of the Turkish army, filed off now amidst luggage-vans. The occupants
of these harem conveyances were invisible; one of the women having the
curiosity to peep out was brutally pushed back by a soldier. A band
of dervishes, bearing the standard of the Prophet, came galloping up,
brandishing glittering swords; behind them advanced files of Osmanlies
striking up a clamorous flourish of trumpets, beating the war-drums and
blowing the war-horns. The Mussulman schools brought up the rear carrying
banners with inscriptions out of the “Koran.” The scholars chanted verses
and sung in chorus “Lah illah, illah lah!” in high-pitched voices. They
were surrounded by a crowd of street-boys shouting them words of welcome.
These urchins who had been very much annoyed in hearing their Armenian
little comrades vociferate at every available occasion the Russian
“hurra” had their revenge now.
It was decided that our sentinels should immediately be replaced by
Turkish soldiers. I looked at that ceremony from the balcony of General
Lazareff’s dwelling, commanding a view of the guard-house and the public
square where crowds were gathering. A Turkish patrol soon appeared, about
a dozen soldiers with an under-officer swinging a long branch that he had
just broken from a tree; but the chief of our patrol declared that he
would certainly not give up the guard-house to such singular substitutes.
The new commander of the citadel with a detachment of soldiers arrived
shortly afterwards, and this time our soldiers presented arms to their
former enemies and resigned the place to the Turks. From henceforth
Erzeroum has become again a Turkish town!
Our last dinner in Erzeroum was interrupted by the arrival of
Houssein-Pasha, who came in full uniform to bid us good-bye, accompanied
by his policemaster. After their departure we speedily finished our
meal and started on horseback for the camp. Now, at last, all was over
with Erzeroum! We had tea in our tent, which was pitched on the slope
of a hill, and at seven o’clock we remounted our horses and returned
to Erzeroum, as guests this time; Ali-Effendi invited us to a grand
dinner that he gave in our honour. When we approached his house, it was
illuminated, and a Turkish band began to play. Ali-Effendi came out to
meet us, and offering me his arm, he led me to the dining-room where all
the Russian and Turkish authorities were already assembled. I sat on
the right of Houssein-Pasha, who lavished compliments on me the whole
time. Our host was also most charmingly courteous and proposed to drink
my health with enthusiasm. The dinner consisted of fifteen courses and
lasted it seemed a whole eternity. We returned to our camp late in the
night, accompanied by an escort of Turkish dragoons who carried lighted
torches.
September 8th.—A tent is a poor place to spend the night in, nevertheless
I slept soundly in my narrow camp-bed. At daybreak I was roused by the
sound of trumpets and the beating of drums; the soldiers began to stir,
in great excitement, and less than a quarter of an hour later the whole
camp was broken up. Our soldiers having burned all their useless rags
by the fire, hundreds of the indigent inhabitants of Erzeroum hurried
down like birds of prey upon the place recently occupied by our camp and
searched for the remains in the dense smoke. Meanwhile our troops drew
up in a line while their commanders took a survey of their ranks and
congratulated the men on the occasion of their return to their homes.
After that public prayers were sung; during the Te Deum the sounds of the
trumpet resounded to signal our departure.
We mounted on horseback and left Erzeroum with our troops, with music
playing and banners waving in the air. To-day is the birthday of the
Grand-Duchess Olga Fedorovna, therefore twenty-one cannon-shots have
been fired. We were already approaching the Postern of Kars when, in
the middle of a cloud of dust, a cavalcade came into view. It was
Moukhtar-Pasha who had come with a numerous suite to see us off. Suddenly
we heard the sounds of a march, and saw a Turkish military band preceding
a battalion of Turkish soldiers, marching also in the direction of the
Postern of Kars in order to escort the departing Russian troops; they
drew up in a line on each side of the road. I was greatly impressed to
see the enemy troops, who a short time ago fought ferociously with us,
now presenting arms to the Russian commanders. There was a great crowd
of Turks round about, but the Armenian inhabitants restrained from
appearing. The Postern is left behind, the Russian and Turkish commanders
have made their adieus, and we are marching off to Kars. Our cavalcade
was very gay; we were trotting fast and soon overtook our troops. In
the afternoon we arrived at the spot where we were to lunch in a tent
pitched on the banks of a river. After sunset, we came to Hassan-kala
where we passed the night under the roof of the chief of the district. An
impromptu bed was made up for me far too short, alas, for my long legs.
September 9th.—We continued our journey at daybreak. The chief of the
district of Kharoussan came to meet my husband on horseback, accompanied
by an escort of Kurdes. The chief of their tribe, wishing to be agreeable
to Sergy, told him how glad he was when the new frontier was made, that
his land became joined to the Russian territory, when the land of his
brothers was joined to that of Turkey.
September 10th.—After having made a long halt at Zevine, we overtook a
large detachment of emigrants going to Kars on their way to America.
On the passage of the Saganlough we rejoined the rifle battalion. The
officers invited us to dismount and sit down to lunch on the grass
with them. When we came to Karagalis, a tiny hamlet composed of a few
cottages, the hut in which we were to pass the night appeared so dirty
and miserable to us that we preferred to sleep in the open air, stretched
on mats on the grass outside.
September 11th.—Rising early we remounted our horses. Amongst the crowd
of villagers who surrounded us we saw a great many Armenians wearing
fezzes on their heads. When one of our fellow-travellers asked an old
Armenian the reason why he wore this Turkish head-gear instead of a cap,
he replied candidly that he wasn’t quite sure yet to what territory he
was to belong, and said that if he belonged to the Turks he would have to
pay dearly for the change of his head-covering.
We reached Kars in safety some little time before sunset, after having
been in the saddle three days, riding at the rate of 50 miles a day, and
intended to put up at the London Hotel for rest, but General Franchini,
the governor of Kars, took us off to his house. I was tired out and
unable to do anything but rest and wanted a good sleep after our long
journey. I hurried up to my room and stretched my tired limbs in the
comfort of my bed.
Kars has changed considerably since my departure to Erzeroum; sign-boards
written in Russian are to be seen everywhere, and our language chiefly is
heard in the streets.
September 18th.—From Kars to Alexandropol we travelled in a post-chaise.
General Franchini and his colleagues expressed a desire to accompany
us to the first station on horseback. On approaching it, we were very
much surprised to hear the sounds of a military band and to see a large
tent in which a farewell banquet was served. A greater surprise still
awaited us; Sergy found an address under his table-napkin a printed order
proceeding from General Lazareff, in which he referred to my husband’s
first-rate administration of the country which had just been restored to
the Turks. During the repast we all remembered the painful moments that
we had passed during these two years of war. Thank God it’s happily over
now; all this nightmare of war done with and gone!
The first thing we did on our arrival at Alexandropol was to hire a
carriage and go and pray on the tombs of our departed friends, victims of
that terrible war. Quick! let us get out of this land of mourning, grief
and sorrow! Let us come out of the darkness and gloom into the light
again!
September 20th.—After a journey of two days we are comfortably
reinstalled in Tiflis. How delighted I am to live again in our cosy
nest, with all the luxury of civilisation round us. I do hope that the
wandering existence that we have lived since our marriage has come to an
end. My gaiety has come back to me and the world is beautiful again, and
I am just going to live and forget the privations and dangers of the past
months. All the horrors of war have vanished like a bad dream.
November 30th.—Our stay in Tiflis, alas, did not last long. The Grand
Duke Michael, setting out to St. Petersburg, has charged Sergy to work
out projects in case of a new war with Turkey, (Oh! horror!) and has
ordered him to bring them personally to St. Petersburg. We are leaving
Tiflis in the beginning of December.