MERSINA. POMPEIOPOLIS. ASAAB EL KEF. TCHANDEER.
_April 18th._—To-day we proposed making an excursion to Pompeiopolis,
but heavy rain threatened, so we gave up our intention. The British
Vice-Consul, Mr. Tattarachi, invited us to his house; I was much amused
by the account he gave of his appointment to the post through the kind
influence of His Grace the present Archbishop of Canterbury, “Sir Tait,”
as he called him, to whom he had been of service whilst he was travelling
in this country.
Mr. Tattarachi said, that in summer the heat of Mersina, and of the whole
plain, was overpowering, and that very virulent fever and dysentery
prevail in consequence of the malaria. At present the people look
healthy enough. The food supply of the place is tolerably good, the
bread excellent, and even the water, though turbid and warm, not of bad
quality. Formerly, all the water used in Mersina was obtained from wells,
and was extremely unwholesome; but a few years since an aqueduct was made
from the river, which flows to the west of the town.
Mersina has, however, this great advantage, that it is only six hours
distant from the high mountain ranges, where a pure and healthy
atmosphere can be enjoyed during the sickly summer months. The chief
summer resort is the village of Geuzna, almost due north from Mersina,
and about 4000 feet above the sea. Here the climate resembles that of
England in a mild April, and a very low temperature can be obtained by
ascending the mountains above the village.
Ichma is another summer resort. It is situated in a gorge of the
mountains, north by east from Mersina. A hot sulphurous spring here
bursts from the rock, and traces of ancient baths and other buildings are
yet visible near the stream.
Mr. Tattarachi is no lover of the Turks; he says that their poverty and
misery are due to their own lazy improvidence. When the harvest happens
to be good, they must go off on a pilgrimage to Mecca, and spend all
they possess; or they must take an extra wife and give themselves up
to idleness and gormandizing till all is consumed. They never lay by
anything for a bad season, so that when the harvest fails, which is an
event common enough, they have no resource whatever, and are at once on
the brink of starvation. Then too the Government will do nothing for the
good of the country, nor suffer others to do anything. As an instance
of this dog-in-the-manger policy, he mentioned their treatment of an
offer made by Mr. Mavromati, the principal Greek merchant of Mersina.
This gentleman, who is very wealthy, proposed to irrigate the plain of
Tarsus and Adana by canal works from the Cydnus and Sarus, on condition
of receiving for twenty years a certain duty on the land irrigated; but
the Government authorities refused his offer. He might have obtained
the concession, had he been willing to expend 3000_l._ to 4000_l._ in
buckskeesh; but he would not do this, and so a very beneficial public
enterprise fell through. Mr. Tattarachi gave us some anecdotes touching
the bad conduct of the provincial governors; e.g., a few days before, he
had noticed in the store of an Armenian merchant in the town, some wheat,
which he recognized as foreign wheat, that is, not grown in Cilicia. Upon
examining it, he found it to be wheat from Cyprus, and the Armenian, on
being closely questioned, confessed that the Kaimakam of Mersina had sold
it to him, and that it was part of the wheat imported by the Government
from Cyprus for the relief of the famine-stricken districts of the
interior, which the Governor had embezzled, and was privately selling.
Speaking of the ingratitude of the Turks, he said, that do what we would
for them, in their eyes we were still only “Giaours”—blind instruments in
all we did of a higher power, and quite unworthy of gratitude, supposing
an Oriental was even capable of such a sentiment, a point which appeared
to him very doubtful. I said it was “natural for the Turkish peasant
under so bad a Government, to live only for the day, probably under a
better Government he would improve;” but our friend said “Never”; even
should their Government be improved, their religion would still keep them
back; and when once a Turk begins to acquire wealth he becomes corrupt
and vicious. He admitted, however, that the race possessed _some_ good
qualities, especially the poorer classes—they were so “good,” so quiet,
so docile, so obedient; no country in the world could be more easily
governed, and few present so great advantages. He ended his remarks by
saying, “Would to God they would all disappear!”
Such is the feeling of an intelligent Greek—himself in a position of
complete independence—towards the ruling race! And it is wonderful that
he should have admitted even thus much! for almost invariably the Greek
finds no single good quality, of any kind or degree, in the Turkish
people.
As illustrative of an Oriental’s gratitude, one of my friends mentioned
the other day an anecdote in point. He is acquainted with a Syrian of
the Greek Church, whose family had been settled since Mehemet Ali’s days
in Damietta, and in the course of two generations had managed to scrape
together about 80,000_l._ This man, speaking with my friend about the
Turco-Russian war, could not forbear bursting out into the most bitter
expressions of hatred and ill-will towards the Turks. “Ah,” said my
friend, “indeed! But you at least have no reason to complain of them;
your fortune and that of your family proceeded from them; and why should
you turn against them? What harm have they done you?”
“Ah,” replied the other, “in the old days one could get from a Turk
anything one wanted, by paying him a little court, but now they are
beginning to open their eyes a good deal more, and it is not so easy to
manage them! May God shorten their days!” (“Allah yiktaa aumrehom!”)
What a cynical comment is this on the words of my Mersina Greek friend,
touching an Oriental’s gratitude!
The facts of this gentleman’s case are as follows. By some means his
father ingratiated himself with Mehemet Ali. In those days the great
Viceroy himself farmed all the land of Egypt, yet not so strictly but
that some scraps of the lion’s feast fell amongst his hungry parasites.
It was a gigantic monopoly, and all the produce of Egypt could be sold
only to the Viceroy, and at a rate fixed by himself. The father of this
Syrian Greek had obtained the grant of a small rice estate at Damietta,
and of course had to sell the produce of it to the Viceroy; but as he
was in favour, his rice was always classed highly, and obtained the best
price. Of course the opportunity was too good to be lost; so he began
to increase his fortune by purchasing clandestinely the worst quality
of rice, from such “fellahhin”[2] as dared the risk of selling to him,
for your “fellahh” will make his little “peculium” though hanging be the
penalty of detection; and this refuse, duly manipulated, well swelled
with water, and mixed with a proper proportion of dry Nile earth, was
passed by the Viceroy’s receivers as first-class rice, and paid for
accordingly. Such was the main source of the family fortune; but such
chances are not now to be had, and gratitude, being only a lively
expectation of favours to come, has no longer any _raison d’être_.
_April 19th._—Started at 9 A.M. for Pompeiopolis, after considerable
difficulty in hiring horses fit to ride. The day was indeed magnificent,
heavy clouds hung about the mountain sides, but the air was soft, balmy,
and of extreme clearness. The road crosses the river of Mersina, by a
bridge of a single arch (Saracenic), and then follows the sea-shore,
passing over the sites of several ancient villages. After about an
hour and a half’s easy ride, we came to the river of Pompeiopolis (the
Liparis?), and fording its clear and rapid stream, reached the site of
the old city.
Great quantities of débris, fragments of pottery, &c., are strewed over
the surface of the ground, between the river and the line of the city
walls. There are a few open stone sarcophagi, and one of large size,
lying on its side, upon a lofty substruction of rubble masonry. This
is supposed to be the tomb of the poet Aratus, one of the celebrities
of Soli, the deserted city, which, repeopled by Pompeius Magnus, was
afterwards called Pompeiopolis. Aratus, who lived in the reign of Ptolemy
Philadelphus, about the third century before our era, was the author of
a poem on the natural science of the age, called ‘Phænomena,’ a very
celebrated work, upon which several ancient authors wrote comments, and
which Cicero translated into Latin.
The general form of Pompeiopolis is an oblong, but the line of wall
is not always straight, and, owing to the accumulation of rubbish and
ruins, and the brushwood which has thickly overgrown the whole site, it
is impossible to measure it with any degree of exactness. I should judge
it to be about three-quarters of a mile in breadth, by one mile and a
quarter in length. There are but few foundations of public edifices
visible; the style of construction, too, is mean; the walls of all the
buildings within the city having been built of a rubble, consisting of
rounded pebbles from the beach, set in strong mortar, and faced with hewn
stone. The best and most expensive construction appears to have been the
city wall, of which some few foundation stones remain, well wrought, and
of very large size. The port, even in its ruin, is a magnificent work. It
is entirely artificial, in shape an ellipse, with flattened sides, and
formed by very solid walls of rubble, once faced with blocks of yellow
limestone, secured by iron clamps. The land end of the basin has been
quite destroyed; even its foundation stones have been removed, but some
of the casing stones of the western mole have been left, probably for the
sake of security from the sea.
Across the mouth of the port runs a petrified beach, and a row of lofty
sand-hills has accumulated inside this, but the inner portion of the
basin is a cultivated field, in breadth about 250 paces, and I estimated
the length from the extremity of the land oval to the curve of the sea
oval at about 500 yards. The rubble walls are 30 feet thick.
From the head of the port a double line of columns once passed through
the entire depth of the town, from south to north. Of these, the western
row has almost entirely disappeared, and the eastern row is not an
unbroken series. Five plain columns stand at the south end of the western
row, and these are all of it that still remain erect. They are of purer
style than any of the others; and there appears to have been some roofed
building at the end of the colonnade towards the sea, as great fragments
of thick red tiling cover the ground here.
In Captain Beaufort’s time (1812) there were forty-four columns erect,
now only forty-one are left. The style of architecture in nearly all is
Corinthian, but debased; the capitals present a great variety; in some
the corners of the abacus rest upon eagles, not ill-executed, instead of
volutes. In some the curves of the abacus have busts, or even full-length
figures, others have lions rampant. The top of one capital is circular,
and consists of the egg and abacus ornament, below this is the cable
pattern, and then the acanthus.
The measurements of the columns are unequal, but the average diameter
of the shafts at base is 3 feet 3 inches, of the capitals, 2 feet 8
inches. Several of the standing columns have projecting brackets or
consoles which once supported either busts or figures; beneath some are
inscriptions much obliterated, and having no means of mounting to them,
we could not decipher them, but I distinguished on one the following:—
[Illustration:
ΟΔΗΜΟΣ
ΠΟΜΠΕΙΟΠΟΛΙΤΩΝ
ΔΙ * * * * * * *
]
[Illustration]
On a prostrate fragment of a column is carved—
[Illustration: ωΔ]
another has—
[Illustration: ΤΡΟ]
one yet erect has—
[Illustration:
ΚΗΠΟΥΟω
ΕϹΟΠΟΣ
]
on a huge prostrate block—
[Illustration:
ΑΥΤΟΚΡΑΤΩΡ
* * * * * * * *
ΑΔΡΙΑΝΟ * * *
]
One of the fallen brackets has the following inscription:—
[Illustration:
ΚΑΤΑΤΑΔΟΞΑΝΤΑ * *
ΒΟΥΛΗΚΑΙΤΩΔΗΜΩ
* * * ΑΡΤΕΟΔΩΡΟ * *
ΤΟΝΔΙΟΔΟΤΟΥΤΟΜΙΕΙ * *
ΠΟΛΙΑΔΟϹΚΥΛΙΝΔΙΑ
* * ΝΙΕΡΕΑΤΗϹΘΕΟΥΠΑ * *
* * ΟΥΤΟΝ * * ΑΟΠΛ * * *
]
At the north end of the west row are lying fragments of very large
wreathed columns, with ornate Corinthian capitals, and in the middle of
the row yet erect there seems to have been a large open space, in which
are pedestals. This may have been the site of the Agora. Although of a
debased style of art and of coarse workmanship, this colonnade still
presents a noble spectacle. It is assigned to Pompeius Magnus, but the
architecture rather belongs to the end of the second century after our
era.
The theatre was on the N.E. of the town, and faced almost due west.
It was constructed against the side of a hill, resembling the mounds
near Mersina; but its materials have been entirely removed, not one
of its rows of seats remain; there is not a trace of the scena, and
as the unsupported earthen sides have fallen in, its size can only be
conjectured, perhaps 30 paces in width. The only fragment remaining is an
archway, which was a passage from the outside to the diazoma. It is now
occupied by a peasant as his house, hence perhaps its preservation. The
shape of the theatre was a horse-shoe, and deep, containing twenty-five
to thirty rows of seats. I saw only _one_ bit of marble frieze,
everything else has been removed, and so great is the destruction of
the place, owing to the proximity of Mersina, that in a few years the
whole city will have disappeared. The town wall is almost gone, only a
deep excavation showing where it once ran; the stone facing of the port
walls has nearly all been taken away; the theatre has disappeared; the
colonnade has hitherto been spared, but soon that also will be attacked.
In short, Mersina has been entirely built of stones brought from
Pompeiopolis.
Boats can lie securely just within the mouth of the port and take in
cargoes of hewn stone, so that the harbour which the old builders
constructed, has proved the most effectual means for the destruction of
their town.
From the top of the theatre there is a noble view over the plain, which
extends east and west as far as the eye can reach; it seems utterly
deserted. Grand ranges of mountains rise beyond it some six to eight
miles back from the sea; the distant ridges of Bulghar Dagh, crowned with
snow, tower above all. Not a human habitation was in sight, and the only
living creatures visible were a few half wild buffaloes, wallowing in the
marshy places to the north of the town.
Perhaps in the old days, when a numerous and industrious population
occupied all this country, Pompeiopolis may have been a healthy
and agreeable residence; now fever lurks amidst its ruins, and the
unacclimatized stranger must not allow nightfall to surprise him in this
interesting but dangerous spot.
We passed a delightful day, and at evening rode back to Mersina, just
in time to escape a heavy thunder-storm, which is very welcome to the
people, as rain will now ensure a good harvest. The soil of the Cilician
plain round Mersina is a rich red earth, very friable when well turned up
by the plough, but requiring rain in the early spring; then, as summer
advances, a few light showers ensure a good harvest. The gifts of nature
to this land are indeed magnificent, but they are wasted or neglected by
the present possessors, and the population is far too scanty to develop
the resources of the country.
_April 21st._—We visited the Greek schools and hospital of Mersina.
The schools are maintained by voluntary contribution, and are free, or
at least very few of the pupils pay any fee. The school is a spacious
room, with a similar room adjoining for the Arab part of the population,
which is numerous, both here and in Tarsus. There were about forty Greek
scholars present, arranged on benches according to their progress. The
course of instruction comprises ancient and modern Greek, Greek and
sacred history, French, geography, arithmetic, writing, &c. The master
speaks French fluently, and there is many a town in England which cannot
supply so good an education. I examined the pupils, and one pretty little
fellow was brought forward; he was a Greek from Kaisariyeh, and, like all
his people, could only speak Turkish. He seemed very quiet, but clever,
and knew French grammar tolerably. He had been about three months under
instruction in Greek. Next we went to the Arab (Christian) school. Some
forty scholars of all ages were present, and one little girl read to
me some portions of St. John’s Gospel, pronouncing the Arabic with the
Koranic terminations.
We then visited the hospital. It was rough but clean; there is a resident
nurse and a dispensary, but only male patients can be accommodated
_in_ the hospital (as indoor patients), and no surgical operations are
attempted. It was at first quite free, but now a small charge of a franc
per day is made, in order that the Muslims admitted there may feel it to
be a benefit.
The church is plain but solid, the font is simply a large vessel of
copper tinned; another church was about to be built for the Arab-speaking
Christians. In every way the public spirit of this little Greek colony is
most praiseworthy.
Next we entered the warehouse of Mr. Mavromati to see a funereal monument
that had been brought from Pompeiopolis. It is of limestone, and on it
are carved two busts, husband and wife, set in a kind of frame. They are
evidently portraits, and though of coarse execution, effective.
[Illustration: ΘΕΟΓΕΝΕΤΟΝ for ΘΕΟΓΕΝΝΗΤΟΙ (“regenerated in God”), which
is equivalent to βαπτισθεντες, “baptized.”
The age of Dionysius is Οʹ = 70. The age of Ammia is ΜΔʹ = 44.]
We found great difficulty in obtaining horses, but at length two were
bought for us at T. 12½_l._ each (11_l._ 5_s._), and we left for Tarsus
at half-past 2 P.M. There is but one road in Cilicia, that between
Mersina, Tarsus, and Adana, commenced about 1867 by Khalil Pasha, to whom
both Mersina and Adana owe much. After his removal the road was continued
during 1869-1871 by Taki Ed-Deen Pasha, who is said to have been a
very bad governor, ignorant, fanatical, and corrupt. He was succeeded
by Nasheeb Pasha, who, according to report, was the most corrupt and
“bucksheesh-loving” of all, though in other respects inoffensive; no
bribe, not even a poor 5_l._, was too small to be beneath his notice!
He continued the work of the road till 1873, then it was completed by
Mahmoud Pasha (once Grand Vizier), who was an excellent governor, but
had lately been recalled to Constantinople. The road is slightly made,
but as very few wheeled vehicles are employed there is not much wear.
Beyond Adana there is absolutely no road, and so bad is the communication
that produce can only be brought down the coast at great cost and with
much delay, the transport camels often sinking up to the belly in mud
and water. So far as it extends however this road is a great boon to
the country. The first object of interest is the central of the three
mounds on the plain of Mersina; it is crowned by a fortification, either
Byzantine or Genoese. After crossing a small stream, the Deli Tchai, we
saw the village of Kalaat Keui; near it, in a line towards the east, is
the “fort,” from which the village takes its name, probably a church,
from the remains of arches still to be seen in it; beyond it, on the sea
shore, is Kazanli.
It is not at all the custom in Turkey to repair any public work, but here
gangs of men were occupied in arranging the drains under the road, for
the plain is in great part artificially irrigated by small canals from
the torrents which descend from the mountains, and the drains, which are
of stonework, serve to convey the water from one side of the road to the
other. A wider extent of land is cultivated than on the west of Mersina,
but much is lying waste. The crops are splendid, and wonderfully clear
of weeds; I never saw cleaner crops in England. Usually only one crop—a
grain crop—can be obtained in the year, and this, if there be sufficient
rain, is excellent; it can hardly be otherwise, for the land lies fallow
half the year. In summer everything is parched up; although sesame, which
needs scarcely any rain, is sometimes sown after the grain. Much of the
land is a black humus, exactly like the Delta of Egypt, but most is a
deep, rich, red loam.
A short distance to the east of Mersina the coast begins to trend off
southwards, and a magnificent plain opens out. The distant ranges of
Amanus and Giaour Dagh were clearly visible. We passed, on the land
side, the villages of Yaka Keui and Sari Ibrahimlü, and on the sea side,
Chomourlü, and reached Tarsus at about a quarter to six. We lodged
in an empty house, belonging to a Greek “medico” (Dr. Telemaque Papa
Dimitri), from the roof of whose house is a magnificent view of the
great plain, and of the mighty range of snow mountains to the north,
extending all along the horizon. We went first to see the mound or hill
of Geuzlük (or Kutchuk) Kalaat, which Mr. L’Anglois considers to have
been a pre-Christian cemetery. This is one of a range of low hills which
extend from the N.W. to the S. and S.E. of the town. A castle built,
or perhaps only restored, by Haroun er Rasheed stood here; and the
remains of it were removed for building-stone only within the last few
years. But for many centuries, commencing long before Christian times,
this hill seems to have been used as a burial place. About twenty-five
years ago the French traveller L’Anglois obtained permission to make
excavations on its western slope, and an immense quantity of antique
pottery was then extracted, and sent to the Louvre. It consisted of
statuettes, representations of the deities of Greece and Cilicia,
mythological subjects, human and animal figures, funereal urns, small
phials and vases, lamps, Samian ware, pins of ivory or bone, and an
infinity of similar objects; and mingled with them were ashes and
remains of human bones, calcined, or unburnt. It is probable that the
most perfect specimens were then extracted; but great quantities of
similar objects are still found, when sought for, and although a perfect
specimen is rare, yet often very beautiful heads, &c., of deities or men
are discovered. Unrifled tombs have also been opened here, containing
vases and pottery, just as is still found to be the case in the tombs of
Cyprus. But the soil of the hill has been so often disturbed, partly in
search of supposed buried treasures, partly during the construction or
restoration of the fortifications of the town, that, excepting in such
cases, nearly every object discovered is broken or mutilated.
[Illustration: TARSUS IN AUGUST
Bulghar Dagh in the distance
_Stanford’s Geogˡ. Estabᵗ._]
Perhaps the most beautiful antique yet found at Tarsus is the white
marble sarcophagus, presented by the American Vice-Consul to the
Metropolitan Museum of Art at New York, and to remove which the
“Shenandoah” man-of-war came to Mersina in 1871. With considerable
difficulty its transfer was obtained, and it was dragged to Mersina on
a kind of car by sixteen buffaloes. The bones and teeth of its quondam
owner were found in it, and remain in their resting place. How would he
have marvelled had he been assured that his bones would be carried away,
some eighteen centuries, it may be, after his death, to a great city, not
then in existence, and some 6000 miles distant from Cilicia!
From the description I had of it, this beautiful sarcophagus must have
been a fine specimen of ancient art. It was discovered a short distance
from the eastern end of the bridge over the Cydnus, and it is believed
that there are other sarcophagi near the spot; but the Government will
not allow any excavation.
Even those who make accidental discoveries, have generally cause to
rue it; for instance, some three years ago, a man, whilst working in a
garden, not far from the American Vice-Consulate, came upon three bronze
statues, and four of life size in marble, upon a basement of beautiful
mosaic pavement. The man immediately gave notice of his discovery to
the Governor, and awaited his reward. The statues were forwarded to
Constantinople, and for his reward the finder was imprisoned, in order
to compel him to confess if he had discovered other, and more portable,
treasures in his garden.
Since that time, whenever similar treasures are found, they are either
broken up or covered over again by the finder.
A camp of Turkish troops was stationed on the hill; we went up nearly
to the top, when the sentries stopped us. The men, who looked far more
intelligent than Arab soldiers, were civil; but we were objects of much
curiosity to them. They were well clad, and looked a stout, square-built
set of men. Their band was atrocious! Tarsus is governed by a kaimakam,
and has a garrison of about 1000 men.
Leaving the Kalaat, we went through the town. Of all the dirty towns
in the East it is the filthiest. I am accustomed to Eastern towns, but
never did I see so filthy and miserable a place as this. Jerusalem itself
is not so bad! No wonder the mortality is great; the bad state of the
place, the marshes round the town, and the intense heat, all combine to
render Tarsus most unhealthy in summer. Yet the people look well now,
and the children show that beautiful peach complexion I have so often
observed in Turkey. The town is a straggling collection of filthy lanes,
with wretched huts, or houses, deserving only to be called huts, and
a few good houses interspersed. Each house has its garden, or a large
courtyard, attached, so that the extent of the place is great; but the
population probably does not exceed 7000 to 8000, a very large proportion
of them Arabs. It is, however, difficult to form a correct estimate. The
town and suburbs are said to contain about 3000 dwellings. If this be so,
the population may amount to 12,000. Twenty years ago, only a very few
houses existed, and the present inhabitants consist mostly of immigrants,
or their descendants, Turks, Nusairiyeh Arabs of Syria (Christian and
Muslim), Armenians, a few Persians, and a considerable number of Greeks.
There is a Greek and an Armenian church, and a school attached to each.
The Syrian Christians have also a church and school. The education in
all these schools is about the same as at Adana (mentioned afterwards).
In the Turkish schools, such as they are, nothing is taught except the
Koran, and to read and write Turkish, and females receive no education
whatever. There is no hospital at Tarsus.
There are twenty-four families of Protestant Armenians, communicants,
and nearly as many more attached, but non-communicants. Their chapel
is attended by about one hundred on Sundays. Their school has about
thirty scholars, half boys and half girls. Instruction is given in
reading, writing, arithmetic, and the Turkish and Armenian languages.
The community is increasing in number and in consideration, they are a
quiet, well-conducted set of people, and are not at all molested by the
Government.
In religion, nearly half the population of Tarsus are Christians, mostly
of the Armenian Church. Both they and the Greeks are fast becoming large
landed proprietors in this district. Everywhere, indeed, the Christian
element is the element of progress and improvement; the poor Turks are
backward in every respect. But speaking generally, a more miserable,
poverty-stricken population than that of Tarsus I never beheld; and
moreover the natives of Tarsus have a very bad reputation, I believe
deservedly.
The bazaars (since burnt down, 1876) are a busy scene. Some of their
industries are really good, e.g. their iron and leather work. Shoes of
native make are amazingly cheap; boys’ boots, well and solidly made of
red or yellow leather, cost only 8 T.P. (about 1½ franc). The bazaars
are rows of little shops, made in general of wooden planks, though some
had walls of stone set in clay. Usually the dealers in one kind of wares
are found occupying the same quarter, as in most Eastern towns. In some
of the narrow lanes of shops a screen of reeds, or matting, was extended
above, as a defence against the terrible sun of Cilicia. The amount of
miserable poverty in the place is most distressing. Many of the poor
refugees from the famine districts have found their way here, and wander
about the town begging, their children and themselves nearly naked. I saw
one woman with a little boy, who wore only a cotton shirt, all the front
of which had been torn away. I could not hear that the Government did
anything to relieve them; Mr. Avania, a Greek merchant we met, said that
the Government claimed its taxes as usual in the afflicted districts,
and had even exacted arrears, some of long standing. The Government had
imported corn from Cyprus for the relief of the suffering districts, but
owing to the difficulty of transport, it had only just been carried up
from Mersina; the harvest prospects this year were however excellent.
The gardens that surround Tarsus for miles on every side are very lovely,
they are wild, beautiful, neglected spots, full of magnificent trees,
especially fine oak, ash, orange, and lemon trees; the vines run to the
top of the highest branches, but all is in a wretched state of neglect,
and threefold the present produce might be obtained; the soil is light
and chalky, but very fertile, and well watered by numerous branches of
the Cydnus, which traverse the town in every direction. From almost every
garden one hears the song of the nightingale.
The environs of Tarsus seen from a height resemble a great neglected belt
of woodland, in which the few houses seem as if choked and buried; and
no doubt this luxuriant vegetation, and the exhalations from the damp
soil, contribute much to the unhealthiness of the place. The variety of
the trees is very great. I noticed, on a cursory examination, oak, plane,
ash, poplar, fig, lemon, orange, vine, peach, apricot, pomegranate,
mulberry, quince, olive, almond, and pistachio. There were other shrubs
unknown to me; and there is, besides, a surprising quantity and variety
of vegetables.
[Illustration]
The new Armenian church is the finest building in Tarsus. It has nothing
resembling a nave, and contains only the usual three recesses at the
east end, and a large cupola, supported by four spacious arches, which,
however, appear too unsubstantial for the weight that rests upon them. In
digging the foundations of this church a very valuable antique treasure
was discovered (I believe it was purchased by my friend Mr. G. Di
Dimitrio, of Ramleh, near Alexandria). It consisted of some exquisitely
wrought jewellery, and a number of coins, amongst them a very large
gold medallion (contourniate) of Constantius. On leaving the Armenian
church, we heard the bell (?) of the Orthodox Greek church sounding for
morning prayer. It was simply a long piece of iron hung up between two
poles, this the operator struck rapidly with two hammers, one in either
hand. The tomb of a Greek archbishop in the cemetery had a most ornate
inscription (Byzantine style, but I think not very old); the crozier, of
an unusual form, was carved on the stone.
Of antique remains very little is left in Tarsus, for the old town has
been used up to build the new, but wherever excavations are made, a great
quantity of hewn stone is generally found, and that at a considerable
depth below the present surface. The site of ancient Tarsus is covered by
a vast accumulation of soil. Is this the effect of subsidence? or, as in
the similar case of the temple of Diana at Ephesus, is it the alluvium
of the river? Whatever be the cause, the ground-level of the ancient
city is at least 15 to 20 feet below the present level. Columns, still
erect, are found buried in earth up to the capital; and arches, the
crown of which is only a very small distance from the surface. Of the
fort towards the Cydnus very little indeed is left, except a few columns
and capitals, and no inscriptions. Two gates, the Demir Kapou, on the
S.E. of the town, and the Kandji Kapou towards Mersina, pointed arches
of Byzantine work, and perhaps built under Justinian, still remain, but
the rest of the fortifications have disappeared. They had been repaired
at various times, by Haroun er Rasheed, by Leon II., and Hethoum I., the
Armenian kings, and still existed at the time of Paul Lucas, about 1700.
The tombs, of the Emperor Julian and of Maximian Daza, which were on the
road towards the Pylæ Ciliciæ, have disappeared, even their very site is
unknown. The same is the case with the tomb of the famous and learned
Khalifeh, El Mamoun, son of Haroun er Rasheed, who died near Bozanti, in
the pass above the Cilician Gates, and was buried at Tarsus in A.D. 833.
But near the Demir Kapou, and in a garden not far from the river, is a
monument of antiquity, which, unless purposely destroyed, bids fair to
last to the end of time. It is the supposed tomb of Sardanapalus, called
the “Dunuk Tash,” or “overturned rock,” from a Muslim legend that it was
the palace of an ancient prince of Tarsus with whom the prophet of Mecca
was offended, and therefore destroyed him by overturning the building
and burying him beneath it. There is nothing left from which to discover
its history; but it is of a style of construction entirely different
from the Greek and Roman remains in Cilicia, and evidently Asiatic. It
is a vast parallelogram, inclosed by walls (or rather by one solid mass
of wall), 282 feet long by 136½ feet broad; the wall is 24½ feet high
by 21 feet thick, and built of an artificial conglomerate (like pudding
stone) composed of cement (or the finest lime) in which burnt clay, small
flints, sand, and larger flints are mixed, the whole forming a concrete
as hard as the very hardest rock. Within the inclosure are two cubical
masses of the same material—one at either extremity—of equal height with
the wall, but the cube to the north is the larger. The upper surface of
this is level, but the surface of the smaller has been cut away so as to
leave three projections, which do not, however, rise beyond the level of
the wall. There are two apertures, one large, one small, on the N.W. side
of the parallelogram; of these, the latter has been closed with a door,
for the Turks now use the place as a cemetery.
[Illustration: DEMIR KAPOU (IRON GATE)
TARSUS
_Stanford’s Geogˡ. Estabᵗ._]
Parallel with the N.E. end of the inclosure, and of the same thickness
as the main wall, is another similar wall; and again parallel with
this, and equally distant from it, is a third wall; the middle wall was
once joined to both this and the main wall by an arched vaulting. The
outer of the two covered galleries thus formed was lighted by means of
a number of openings, traces of which, resembling shallow embrasures,
may still be seen at the top of the third wall. Beyond this, and still
towards the N.E., there is a large, sloping accumulation of earth. There
is no doubt that what remains is only the “core” of the edifice. The
concrete has been set on in successive layers, of about 1½ foot thick,
and then the whole cased with solid hewn stones, of which a few yet
remain embedded in it, e.g. in the gallery and on the outer side of the
S.W. cube. These stones seem to have been thicker at the bottom, and to
have diminished in thickness as the edifice rose; but its outer surface
must have presented a smooth expanse of hewn stone, itself perhaps cased
with polished slabs of marble: but of marble I saw only a tiny fragment;
though L’Anglois says there was much in his time (1852).
[Illustration: 1. Courses of hewn stones.
2. Concrete in layers.]
In the afternoon we visited the falls of the Cydnus. This is said to be
the spot in which Alexander the Great took the bath which nearly proved
fatal to him by the fever it caused. The fall is only about 30 feet deep,
and, though pretty, is not remarkable, as the stream is much diminished
in volume. The channel in the neighbourhood of the fall is full of great
blocks of conglomerate, formed by the chemical action of the water, for,
like almost all the streams from the Taurus, the Cydnus also is charged
with carbonate of lime.
As in every alluvial plain traversed by rapid mountain streams, the
changes in the plain round Tarsus have been very great. In Strabo’s time
the river flowed through the midst of the town “near the gymnasium of
the young men,” and at its mouth on the sea was a lagoon where there had
been old dockyards, and the lake served as the port of Tarsus. Although
the lagoon is now filled up, vast marshes still cover the surface of the
plain.
The testimony of the writers of antiquity, and of the middle ages,
proves that the Cydnus traversed the city, e.g. Procopius[3] expressly
mentions, amongst the other public works of the Emperor Justinian,
the construction of a canal which passed through the city. Tarsus had
suffered severely from an immense inundation caused by the sudden melting
of the snow on Mount Taurus, and the object of this canal was to relieve
the main stream and facilitate the passage of the swollen waters.
But about the middle of the fifteenth century the river seems to have
changed its course; and since that time it has flowed outside the town
on the N.E. and S.E. Many canals from it, however, still traverse the
town, and serve to keep up the verdure of its gardens, and the umbrageous
orchards in which Tarsus is almost buried.
The water of the river is not considered wholesome for drinking, and
the cause assigned is a large spring which flows into the Cydnus some
distance above Tarsus. In the old days this spring had been carefully
blocked so that it should not enter the river, and its waters were
carried off by a separate canal, but the curiosity of Ibrahim Pasha
caused him to order the spring to be opened up, and since that time its
waters have contaminated the Cydnus.
It might have been expected that pious credulity would have discovered
at Tarsus some memorials of the great Apostle to the Gentiles, whether
genuine or not. But strange to say, the only monument connected with
S. Paul is the well traditionally known as “S. Paul’s Well.” It is in
the courtyard of the American Vice-Consulate. Its mouth is formed of a
perforated white marble block; on the inner rim deep notches have been
worn by the bucket rope or chain. Two ancient columns, one marble, the
other granite, support the axle of the windlass.
I was told that some years ago the proprietor sent men down to examine
this well; they found a natural cave in a rock below, and in this part of
a slab of black stone inscribed with Greek letters, but so illegible that
only the word “παυλου” could be read.
Whilst excavating a few feet from the well a marble baptismal font was
found, which the proprietor has preserved and placed upon a pedestal. The
true conclusion would seem to be that this was the site of a Christian
church which bore the name of S. Paul, and that from this is derived the
traditional name of the well; but whether the church was built upon the
actual site of S. Paul’s residence must remain doubtful, though of course
not impossible. Other inscriptions of the Byzantine age were also found.
In one of them mention is made of a bishop “Paulos Magiros,” and of his
wife, “τῆς αὐτοῦ γαμετῆς.”
_April 23rd._—Made an excursion to Asaab-el-Kef. It is about one hour
and a half from Tarsus. The morning was beautiful, and words fail me to
describe the extreme beauty of the landscape. The colouring is lovely,
brilliant beyond comparison. The clouds cast intense purple shadows on
the hills. A noble range of mountains closes the horizon on the N.E.,
their tops glittering like silver, their bases of the tenderest violet
tint; a cool west breeze tempered the heat. The ride is uninteresting,
it lies through sterile hills almost without water. A number of mules
and horses met us carrying into the town great loads of arachne, broom,
myrtle, and lavender, the latter a shrub four to five feet high; these
are used as firewood, and as we passed, their fragrance filled the air.
The soil is chalky and sterile, only the valleys being cultivated. We
passed on the right the village of Katbash, and saw high up on a hill
side the turbeh[4] of Asaab-el-Kef. The hill is of dolomite, and bluish
marble veined with white, and the strata are set edgewise, which renders
the road very difficult, and much like some of the dreadful roads round
Jerusalem.
Arrived at the turbeh we were very courteously received by the sheikh, a
handsome man about fifty years old. The pure air in this elevated spot,
and a simple, tranquil life, are no doubt conducive to longevity, for
we saw here two old men (one of them the sheikh’s father) about eighty
years of age. There were several other Turks present, and a very fine,
pure-blooded, aristocratic-looking set of men they were. I question if
their superiors in this respect could be found in any part of Europe.
The sheikh’s pretty little daughter, and some other little girls, with
long, almond-shaped eyes, came to bring us water and coffee. We examined
the mosque and the cave (which is the scene of a legend of the seven
sleepers, as at Ephesus), but it is not worth a visit. Seven Christians,
all brothers, are said, during the persecution of Trajan Decius, to have
been walled up in this cavern by the emperor’s order. But a miraculous
sleep fell upon them, and so they continued for 157 years—others say 309
years—till the time of Theodosius II., when they were aroused from their
sleep and extricated, &c., &c. This Asaab-el-Kef is a great place of
pilgrimage for the Muslims. The new mosque has been built at the expense
of the Valideh Sultana, mother of the late Sultan Abd-ul-Aziz. She used
also to pay annually a small sum towards its support.
I extract from the diary of a friend (Mr. M. Ancketill) the following
account of his visit to a much more interesting place, the rock fortress,
church, and hermitage (Armenian) of Tchandeer:—
“On 28th October, 1875, I started for Tchandeer Kalesi, which
is about eight hours N.W. from Tarsus, in company of Padre
Sibilian—Mekhitariste—an Armenian priest educated at Vienna. We rested
at a small village an hour beyond El Kef. There were only women here,
who all ran away from us, but when the Padre cried out, ‘Bājee! Bājee!
sisters! sisters!’ they perceived we were Christians, and returned. This
expression seems to calm the fears of all the Armenian women.
“Leaving the village, we pursued our journey, but lost our way, and as it
was becoming dark we determined to go on to Dorak, but again we lost our
way, and with great difficulty reached a Yourouk camp at a place named
Buvrekli. When we came in sight of the fires we shouted for assistance,
as we could not find the road, but the Yourouks made no reply; when we
reached the camp the people excused themselves by saying they supposed we
had been Government zaptiehs, and therefore had refused to help us; that
the Government had taken away almost everything they had in the world;
and then they asked us if there was no hope of any European power coming
to relieve them of such tyranny. These people are Muslim, but all are
oppressed alike. The same impartial tyranny crushes all classes; Rayah
or Muslim it matters not.
“October 29th.—Passed through an enormous mountain gorge, at the bottom
of which is Little Tchandeer. An hour’s ride up the mountain brought
us to Great Tchandeer, a village to which the inhabitants of Little
Tchandeer retire in the summer; and now the great rock on which are
situated the ancient Armenian castle and church was in sight. In order to
reach the castle we were obliged to pass round the western and northern
sides of the rock on foot. The grand entrance is on the west side, but
it has fallen down. We passed with difficulty to the N.E. corner, and
here we found a flight of 172 steps built into the side of the rock,
which led down to the well of the fortress. The plateau of the rock,
which is several acres in extent, is covered with ruins. At its N.W.
corner are the remains of the castle and church; their roofs have fallen,
but in a room which our guide called the ‘prince’s chamber’ there is a
beautifully-carved stone chimney-piece in fine preservation. Most of
the northern wall of the church has fallen, but the southern wall and a
beautiful arched doorway are still entire. Traces of fresco painting are
visible on the walls of the interior, and the masonry is of admirable
workmanship, especially the stonework of the door. At the side of the
door is an inscription in Armenian, the only inscription we could find on
the plateau.
“The following is Père Sibilian’s translation of the inscription:—
“L’Église bâtie (est) l’habitation de la Trinité Unitaire,
maison et autel bien-aimé de Dieu, un endroit de prière, pour
laver les péchés des fidèles, et demander ici un remède pour
se purifier. Dans le temps du roi d’Arménie, Héthoum, mon frère
glorieux, j’ai possédé (?) bâtir la pierre angulaire (cette
église), avec beaucoup de dépense, et trés-nettement. Mon nom
arménien est Sempad, Seigneur de cette forteresse paternelle,
et connétable de l’armée. Je prie tout le monde de prier
pour moi le pécheur, et de mentionner (dans vos prières) mes
parents, Constantin le grand prince, avec les frères, fils, et
les parentes, et le donateur féodale....
“A la grande date (700 + 551 = 1251 A.D.).
“De la dynastie de Roupen désirable (glorieux) (je vous prie?)
cela seulement, que vous vous souviendrez de moi après ma mort.
“The principal entrance to the fortress was a wide causeway on the north
side, very steep, but practicable for horses; part of it has fallen down
with a portion of the rock itself.
“We descended by the well staircase, and after about an hour’s ride in
a S.W. direction reached an ancient Armenian hermitage, built upon a
projecting rock, only accessible on the north side. The natural beauty of
this spot is beyond all description. Below the rock a river flows, the
banks of which are covered with plane and walnut trees, and a carpet of
grass. The river, again, is inclosed on both sides by enormous rocks of
great height, full of natural caves, and covered with pine trees, which
shoot up at all angles. The brilliant colours of the rocks, red, scarlet,
yellow, purple, and grey, here distinct, there blended and running into
each other, add greatly to the beauty of the scene. After crossing the
river we mounted to the hermitage by a most difficult path. The remains
of the little church are very perfect; we were even told that the roof
had fallen in only within the memory of living men. To the right of the
projecting rock on which the church is built is a natural gallery, about
10 feet wide, which leads to large caverns, once the refuge and home of
the hermits; the view from this gallery is truly enchanting. There is
a long inscription in Armenian, of eighteen lines, on the outer wall
of the church, but it cannot be approached, and is only visible from
this gallery. Père Sibilian lay down upon his back at the edge of the
precipice, which forms one side of the gallery, and by the aid of a field
glass endeavoured to decipher the inscription; the letters are small and
somewhat coarsely cut, but after nearly two days’ work he succeeded in
reading as follows (translated by himself):—
“L’Église de St. Sauveur, et (de) ce désert, fut bâtie, par
l’ordre et aux dépenses de Constantin, père du roi, maison de
prière, pour sa personne, selon le commandement du Seigneur,
‘Celui qui ne prend pas sa croix et ne vient pas après moi
(me suivre), n’est pas digne de moi;’ ou ‘Celui qui aime son
fils et sa fille (plus de moi), n’est pas digne de moi.’
Donc celui-ci, mettant plusieurs fois sa personne à la mort
(ayant exposé sa vie), pour le monde, et pour la tranquillité
des églises, selon la parole (de l’Évangile) ‘Le pasteur
courageux met sa personne sur (pour) son troupeau.’ Selon St.
Paul, ‘Dieu a tant aimé le monde, qu’il a donné jusqu’à son
fils unique,’—ainsi par volonté de l’esprit pour les fidèles,
et pour ceux qui haïssent leur personne (le corps), et qui
veulent se retirer et parler avec Dieu, selon la parole, ‘Je
racconterai mes iniquités—et je penserai sur mes péchés’—et
que—‘c’est bon de rester en silence, et seul chez soi,
donner à la terre sa bouche (se prosterner par terre), pour
l’espérance.’ Donc celui-ci avait cinq fils et trois filles;
il fait regner sur les Arméniens, Dieu aidant, un de ses
fils, Héthoum le glorieux, vénérable, et plein de vertu; le
second fils, Basile, archevêque de royaume; et le troisième
fils, Sempad, le général, et le quatrième fils, Auchin, bailli
(?), et le cinquième fils, Léon, prince des princes;—et sa
fille Ankart, preparée comme une perle du royaume (?)—et fait
marier la Zimpan (?) avec le roi de Cyprus, et la troisième
au bailli de Cyprus, qui étaient seigneurs de Beyrout, et de
Joppa (Jaffa). Donc moi le plus humble, parmi les Vartabeds
(docteurs) de Thaddéé (du Couvent de l’Apôtre Thaddéé) étant
élevé sous la main du roi Héthoum (il) ordonna a mon humilité,
d’établir cette Hermitage, pour sa personne, pour pouvoir se
retirer de la perversité du monde, et penser pour son âme;—et
moi, avec une volonté obéissante, j’ai accompli ce que m’était
ordonné, pour achever l’Hermitage. Je prie donc tout le monde,
pour Dieu (pour l’amour de Dieu), tous vous qui passez par ici,
ou qui habitez ici, de mentionner dans vos prières, le grand
prince des princes, Constantin, père du roi, avec ses fils
et ses parentes; aussi les humbles hermites,—parce que j’ai
souffert beaucoup:—quoique les dépenses étaient royales (de
la part du gouvernement), mais l’endroit étant difficile,—et
moi maladif de corps,—pour l’espérance et pour la résurrection
j’ai travaillé, avec la bonne volonté;—je vous prie de ne pas
oublier les hermites,—et que le Seigneur Jésus aie pitié de
tout le monde. Amen.
“Père Sibilian also gave the following translation of the Armenian
inscription upon a black stone, now in the new church at Tarsus—which in
the time of L’Anglois was used as an altar in the old church:—
“Avec la volonté du bienfaiteur immortel—qui est le motif
de toutes les existences—le saint et fort roi Auchin—par
Dieu roi de la nation arménienne—éleva cette forteresse
formidable—pour ceux qui se réfugient ici—le fondateur de cette
forteresse—Constantin de la race royale—qui gouverne cette
grande forteresse—dont le nom s’appelle Teghenkar (pierre
jaune)—termina avec ses soins en l’an (768 + 551 = 1319
A.D.)—donc ceux qui se réfugient ici—ou qui la voient par les
yeux de corps—donnent comme une récompense la prière—.... (Que
Dieu leur fasse grâce?) ... et être héritiers du Paradis. Amen.”
This translation closely corresponds with the translation of it given by
L’Anglois.