early hour men were seated all round his room. After shaking hands
with about thirty people, I walked the first mile accompanied by Mr.
Browne, who then left me on his way to seek to enlighten the wild
tribesmen of the Tyari valley. From the top of the Kamerlan Pass,
above Kochanes, the view was inconceivably beautiful. On the lovely
alp on which the village stands a red patch of autumnal colouring
flamed against the deep indigo and purple mountains of Diz and
Shawutha, which block up the east end of the lofty valley; while above
these rose the Jelu ranges, said to be from 12,000 to 15,000 feet in
altitude, bathed in rich pure blue, snow-fields on their platforms,
new-fallen snow on their crests, indigo shadows in their clefts and
ravines,--a glorious group of spires, peaks, crags, chasms,
precipices, rifts, parapets, and ridges perfect in their beauty as
seen in the calm coloured atmosphere in which autumn loves to die.
Higher up we were in vast solitudes, among splintered peaks and
pasturages where clear streams crashed over rock ledges or murmured
under ice, and then a descent of 1800 feet by steep zigzags, and a
seven hours' march in keen pure air, brought us through rounded hills
to this village.
_Van, November 1._--There was a night alarm at Kotranis. A number of
Kurds came down upon the threshing-floor, and the _zaptiehs_ were
most unwilling to drive off the marauders, saying that their only
orders were to protect me. The Kurds, who were at least ten to one,
retired when they saw the Government uniforms, but the big dogs barked
for the rest of the night.
The next day's march occupied eleven hours. It was very cold, "light
without heat," superb travelling weather. One _zaptieh_ was a Moslem,
the other an Armenian, and there were strong differences of opinion
between them, especially when we halted to rest at a Christian
village, and the Kurdish _katirgi_ took several sheaves of corn from a
threshing-floor without paying for them. The Moslem insisted that he
should not pay and the Christian that he should, and it ended by my
paying and deducting the sum from his _bakhsheesh_. The _zaptiehs_ are
usually men who have served five years with the colours. In Eastern
Asia Minor they are well clothed in dark blue braided uniforms, and
have ulsters in addition for cold weather. They provide their own
horses. Their pay is eighty piastres a month, with rations of bread
for themselves and of barley for their animals, but the pay is often
nine months in arrear, or they receive it in depreciated paper. They
are accused of being directly or indirectly concerned in many
robberies, and of preying on the peasantry. They are armed with Snider
rifles, swords, and revolvers. From the top of a high pass above
Kotranis there was a final view of the Jelu mountains, and the
remainder of the day was spent among hills, streams, and valleys, with
rich fertile soil and abundant water, but very thinly peopled.
A very ingenious plough has taken the place of the primitive implement
hitherto used. The share is big and heavy, well shod with iron, and
turns up the soil to a great depth. The draught is from an axle with
two wheels, one of them two feet in diameter and the other only ten
inches. The big wheel runs in the last furrow, and the little one on
the soil not yet upturned, the axle being level. Some of these ploughs
were drawn by eight buffaloes, with a boy, singing an inharmonious
tune, seated facing backwards on each yoke. After the ploughing, water
is turned on to soften the clods, which are then broken up by the
husbandmen with spades.
There is a great charm about the scenery as seen at this season, the
glorious colouring towards sunset, the fantastic forms and brilliant
tints of the rocks, and the purity of the new-fallen snow upon the
heights; but between Kotranis and Van, except for a little planting in
the "Valley of the Armenians," there is scarcely a bush. If I had warm
clothing I should regard the temperature as perfect, nearly 50 deg. at
noon, and falling to about 25 deg. at night. After a severe march, a
descent and a sudden turn in the road brought us in the purple
twilight to Merwanen, the chief village of Norduz, streamily situated
on a slope--a wretched village, semi-subterranean; a partly finished
house, occupied by a newly arrived _Kaimakam_ and a number of
_zaptiehs_, rising above the miserable hovels, which, bad as they are,
were all occupied by the _Kaimakam's_ attendants. _Zaptiehs_,
soldiers, Kurds, and villagers assured me that there was no room
anywhere, and an officer, in a much-frogged uniform, drove my men from
pillar to post, not allowing us standing room on the little dry ground
that there was. I humbly asked if I could pitch my tent, but a rough
negative was returned. A subterranean buffalo stable, where there was
just room among the buffaloes for me to lie down in a cramped
position, was the only available shelter, and there was none for the
servants. I do not much mind sharing a stable with _Boy_, but I "draw
the line" at buffaloes, and came out again into the frosty air, into
an inhospitable and altogether unprepossessing crowd.
Then there was a commotion, with much bowing and falling to the right
and left, and the _Kaimakam_ himself appeared, with my powerful letter
in his hand, took me into the unfinished house, at which he had only
arrived an hour before, and into a small room almost altogether
occupied by two beds on the floor, on one of which a man very ill of
fever was lying, and on the other an unveiled Kurdish beauty was
sitting. The _Kaimakam_, though exceedingly "the worse of drink," was
not without a certain dignity and courtesy. He apologised profoundly
for the incivility and discomfort which I had met with, and for his
inability to entertain me "with distinction" in "so rough a place,"
but said that he would give up his own room to so "exalted a
personage," or if I preferred a room outside it should be made ready.
Of course I chose the latter, with profuse expressions of the
gratitude I sincerely felt, and after a cup of coffee bade him
good-night.
The room was the justice or injustice room over the _zaptieh_
barracks, and without either door or glazed windows, but cold and
stiff as I was after an eleven hours' march, I was thankful for any
rest and shelter. Shortly my young Kurdish _katirgi_, a splendid
fellow, but not the least "tame," announced that he must leave me in
order to get the escort of some _zaptiehs_ back to Julamerik. He said
that "they all" told him that the road to Van was full of danger, and
that if he went on he would be robbed of his mules and money on the
way back. No transport however, was to be got, and he came on with me
very pluckily, and has got an escort back, at least to Merwanen. In
the morning the _Kaimakam_ rose early to do me honour, but was so
tipsy that he could scarcely sit upright on his chair on a stone dais
amidst a rabble of soldiers and scribes. We were all benumbed with
cold, and glad that the crossing of an expanse of frozen streams
rendered walking a necessity. A nine hours' march through mountains
remarkable for rocky spires and needles marvellously coloured, and for
the absence of inhabitants, took us to the Armenian village of
Khanjarak, finely situated in a corrie upon a torrent bank; but it is
so subterranean, and so built into the hillside, that a small square
church and conical piles of _kiziks_ are the only obvious objects, and
I rode over the roofs without knowing what was underneath.
All the women and children, rabbit-like, came out of their holes,
clothed in red rags, and some wore strings of coins round their heads.
The men were dressed like Kurds, and were nearly as wild-looking. They
protested against my tent being pitched. They said the Kurds were
always on the watch, and would hack it with their swords in half an
hour to get at its contents, that they had only three matchlock guns,
and that the Kurds were armed with rifles. I felt that I could
scarcely touch a lower depth in the matter of accommodation than when
they lodged me in a dark subterranean stable, running very far back
into the hill, with a fire of animal fuel in the middle giving off
dense and acrid fumes. A recess in this, with a mud bench, was
curtained off for me, and the rest of the space was occupied by my own
horses and baggage mules, and most of the village asses, goats, cows,
calves, and sheep. Several horses belonging to travellers and to my
own escort were also there, and all the _zaptiehs_, servants,
travellers, and _katirgis_ were lodged there. There were legions of
fleas revelling in a temperature which rose to 80 deg. at midnight, though
there were 5 deg. of frost outside. In the part of the roof which
projected from the hill there were two holes for light, but at night
these were carefully closed with corks of plaited straw.
The wretched poverty of the people of this place made a very painful
impression on me. They _may_ have exaggerated when they told me how
terribly they are oppressed by the Kurds, who, they say, last year
robbed them of 900 sheep and this year of 300, twenty-five and some
cattle having been driven off a few days before, but it is a simple
fact that the night of my visit the twenty-four sheep for which there
was no room in the stable were carried away by a party of well-armed
Kurds in the bright moonlight, the helpless shepherds not daring to
resist. It is of no use, they say, to petition the Government; it will
not interfere. The Kurds come into their houses, they say, and terrify
and insult their women, and by demands with violence take away all
they have. They say that the money for which they have sold their
grain, and which they were keeping to pay their taxes with, was taken
by the Kurds last week, and that they will be cruelly beaten by the
_zaptiehs_ because they cannot pay. Their words and air expressed
abject terror.[49]
Their little church is poorer than poverty itself, a building of
undressed stone without mortar, and its length of thirteen feet
includes the rude mud dais occupied by the yet ruder altar. Its
furniture consists of an iron censer, an iron saucer containing oil
and a wick, and an earthen flagon. There are no windows, and the
rough walls are black with candle smoke. The young man who showed the
church took a Gospel from the dais, kissing the cross upon it before
handing it to me, and then on seeing that I was interested went home
and brought a MS. of St. Matthew's Gospel, with several
rudely-illuminated scenes from our Lord's life. "Christos," he said
with a smile, as he pointed to the central figure in the first
illustration, and so on as he showed me the others, for in each there
was a figure of the Christ, not crowned and risen, but suffering and
humiliated. Next morning, in the bitter cold of the hour before
sunrise, the clang of the mallet on the sounding-board assembled the
villagers for matins, and to the Christ crowned and risen and "sitting
on the right hand of power" they rendered honour as Divine, though in
the midst of the grossest superstition and darkness, and for Him whom
they "ignorantly worship" they are at this moment suffering the loss
of all things. Their empty sheepfold might have been full to-day if
they had acknowledged Him as a Prophet and no more.[50]
Leaving this wretched hamlet, where the unfortunate peasants are as
avaricious as they are poor and dirty, and passing a Kurdish village
with a stone fort picturesquely situated, we crossed a pass into a
solitary valley, on which high rounded hills descend in harmonised
buffs and browns, both hills and valleys covered with uncut hay. The
_zaptiehs_ said that this was a specially dangerous place, and urged
the caravan to its utmost speed. We met three Armenian _katirgis_ in
their shirts. They complained most bitterly that they had been robbed
an hour before of five mules with their equipments, as well as of
their clothing and money. The ascent and the very tedious descent of
the Kasrik Kala Pass brought us into the large and fertile plain of
Haizdar, the "plain of the Armenians," sprinkled with Armenian
villages, and much cultivated.
Mirza and one _zaptieh_ had gone back for a blanket which had been
dropped, and after halting in an orchard till I was half-frozen I
decided to proceed without them, having understood that we could reach
Van in three hours. I started my party by signs, and after an hour's
riding reached a village where Johannes spoke fluently in an unknown
tongue, and the _zaptieh_ held up five fingers, which I learned too
late meant that Van was five hours off. I thought that they were
asking for instructions, and at every pause I repeated _Van_.
After a brief consultation we went up among the hills, the young
Kurdish _katirgi_ jumping, yelling, singing, and howling, to keep his
mules at a trot, the _zaptieh_ urging them with his whip, and pointing
ominously at the fast sinking sun. On we clattered with much noise,
nor did we slacken speed till we gained a high altitude among desert
solitudes, from which we looked down upon the Dead Sea of Van, a sheet
of water extending in one direction beyond the limits of vision, lying
red and weird, with high mountains jutting into it in lofty headlands
hovered over by flame-coloured clouds. High up along the mountain side
in a wavy line lay the path to Van in the deepening shadows, and the
_zaptieh_, this time holding up three fingers, still urged on the
caravan, and the Kurd responded by yells and howls, dancing and
jumping like a madman.
Just as it was becoming dark, four mounted men, each armed with two
guns, rode violently among the mules, which were in front of me, and
attempted to drive them off. In the _melee_ the _katirgi_ was knocked
down. The _zaptieh_ jumped off his horse, threw the bridle to me, and
shouldered his rifle. When they saw the Government uniform these Kurds
drew back, let the mules go, and passed on. The whole affair took but
a few seconds, but it was significant of the unwillingness of the
Kurds to come into collision with the Turks, and of the power the
Government could exercise in the disturbed districts if it were once
understood that the marauders were not to be allowed a free hand.
After this attack not a word was spoken, the bells were taken off the
mules, the _zaptieh_, as fine and soldierly a man as one could wish to
see, marched in front, quiet and vigilant, and so in a darkness in
which I could not see my horse's ears we proceeded till, three hours
later, the moon rose as we entered Van. It was one of the _eeriest_
rides I ever made, and I had many painful reflections on having risked
through ignorance the property of my faithful Kurdish _katirgi_. The
first light of Van was a welcome sight, though after that there was a
long ride to "the gardens," a large wooded suburb chiefly inhabited by
Armenians, in which the American missionaries live. Dr. Reynolds, the
medical missionary, has given me a most hospitable welcome, though his
small house is more than full with new arrivals from America. I wanted
to re-engage my jolly _katirgi_ for Bitlis, but he went back at once
with the _zaptieh_, and after the obvious perils of the road it would
not have been fair to detain him. Visitors are scarce here. Van does
not see more than one non-official European in three years. The
Vice-Consul says that he should have doubted the sanity of any one who
had proposed to travel from Urmi to Van by the route I took, but now
that the journey is safely over I am glad that no one at Urmi knew
enough to dissuade me from it. The Vice-Consul and all the mission
party are as kind as they can be, and Van is for me another oasis.
I. L. B.
FOOTNOTES:
[49] I must ask my readers to believe that I crossed the Turkish
frontier without any knowledge of or interest in the "Armenian
Question;" that so far from having any special liking for the
Armenians I had rather a prejudice against them; that I was in
ignorance of the "Erzerum troubles" of June 1890, and of yet more
recent complications, and that the sole object of my journey by a
route seldom traversed by Europeans from Urmi to Van was to visit the
Patriarch of the Nestorians and the Kochanes station of the Archbishop
of Canterbury's Assyrian Church Mission, and that afterwards I
travelled to Erzerum _via_ Bitlis only to visit the American
missionaries there. So far as I know, I entered Turkey as a perfectly
neutral and impartial observer, and without any special interest in
its Christian populations, and it is only the "inexorable logic of
facts" which has convinced me of their wrongs and claims.
[50] In another village, a young man in speaking of their
circumstances said: "We don't know much, but we love the Lord Jesus
well enough to die for Him."
LETTER XXXI
VAN,[51] ARMENIA, _Nov. 4_.
Van and its surroundings are at once so interesting and picturesque
that it is remarkable that they are comparatively seldom visited by
travellers. Probably the insecurity of the roads, the villainous
accommodation _en route_, and its isolated position account for the
neglect.[52] Here as elsewhere I am much impressed with the excellence
of the work done by the American missionaries, who are really the
lights of these dark places, and by their exemplary and honourable
lives furnish that _moral model_ and standard of living which is more
efficacious than preaching in lifting up the lives of a people sunk in
the depths of a grossly corrupted Christianity. The boys' and girls'
schools in Van are on an excellent basis, and are not only turning out
capable men and women, but are stimulating the Armenians to raise the
teaching and tone of their own schools in the city, with one of which
I was very greatly pleased. The creation of churches, strict in their
discipline, and protesting against the mass of superstitions which
smother all spiritual life in the National Armenian Church, is
undoubtedly having a very salutary effect far beyond the limited
membership, and is tending to _force reform_ upon an ancient church
which contains within herself the elements of resurrection. Great
honour is due to Dr. Reynolds for the way in which, almost
single-handed, he has kept the valuable work of this Mission going for
years, and now that colleagues have arrived a considerable development
may be hoped for.
I have confessed already to a prejudice against the Armenians, but it
is not possible to deny that they are the most capable, energetic,
enterprising, and pushing race in Western Asia, physically superior,
and intellectually acute, and above all they are a race which can be
raised in all respects to our own level, neither religion, colour,
customs, nor inferiority in intellect or force constituting any
barrier between us. Their shrewdness and aptitude for business are
remarkable, and whatever exists of commercial enterprise in Eastern
Asia Minor is almost altogether in their hands. They have singular
elasticity, as their survival as a church and nation shows, and I
cannot but think it likely that they may have some share in
determining the course of events in the East, both politically and
religiously. As Orientals they understand Oriental character and modes
of thought as we never can, and if a new Pentecostal _afflatus_ were
to fall upon the educated and intelligent young men who are being
trained in the colleges which the American churches have scattered
liberally through Asia Minor, the effect upon Turkey would be
marvellous. I think most decidedly that reform in Turkey must come
through Christianity, and in this view the reform and enlightenment
of the religion which has such a task before it are of momentous
importance.
Islam is "cabined, cribbed, confined." Its forms of belief and thought
and its social and political ideas remain in the moulds into which
they were run at its rise. Expansion is impossible. The arrogance
which the Koran inculcates and fosters is a dead weight on progress.
If the Turk had any disposition to initiate and carry out reforms his
creed and its traditions would fetter him. Islam, with its fanaticism,
narrowness, obstructiveness, and _grooviness_ is really at this moment
the greatest obstacle to every species of advance both in Turkey and
Persia, and its present activity and renewed proselytising spirit are
omens of evil as much for political and social progress as for the
higher life of men.
The mission houses and schools are on fairly high ground more than two
miles from Van, in what are known as "the Gardens," where most of the
well-to-do Armenians and Turkish officials reside. These gardens,
filled with vineyards and all manner of fruit trees, extend for a
distance of five miles, and being from two to three miles wide their
mass of greenery has a really beautiful effect. Among them are many
very good houses, and the roads and alleys by which they are
intersected are well planted with poplars and willows, shading
pleasant streams which supply the water for irrigation.
The view from the roof is a glorious one. Looking west over the
gardens, which are now burning with autumn tints, the lofty crests of
the huge crater of Nimrud Dagh are always visible across the lake of
Van, intensely blue in the morning, and reddening in the sunsets of
flame and gold. In the evenings too, the isolated rock on which the
castle of Van is built bulks as a violet mass against the sinking
sun, with a foreground of darkening greenery. The great truncated cone
of the Sipan Dagh looms grandly over the lake to the north; to the
east the rocky mass of the Varak Dagh, with white villages and
monasteries in great numbers lying in its clefts and folds, rises
precipitously to a height of 10,500 feet; and to the south the
imposing peaks of Ardost, now crested with snow, and Mount Pelu,
projecting into the lake, occupy prominent positions above the lower
groups and ridges.
The town of Van is nearly a mile from the lake, and is built on an
open level space, in the midst of which stands a most picturesque and
extraordinary rock which rises perpendicularly to a height of about
300 feet. It falls abruptly at both extremities, and its outline,
which Colonel Severs Bell estimates at 1900 yards in length, is
emphasised by battlemented walls, several towers, and a solitary
minaret rising above the picturesque irregularity of the ancient
fortifications. Admission to the interior of the castle is refused,
consequently I have not seen the chambers in the rock, supposed to
have been the tombs of kings. The most celebrated of the cuneiform
inscriptions cut on tablets smoothed in the rock is on the south side
in an inaccessible position, and was with difficulty copied by the
murdered traveller Schulz with the aid of a telescope. It is well seen
from below, looking, as has been remarked, like an open copy of a
newspaper. Like the tablets of Persepolis and Mount Elwend, it relates
in august language the titles and deeds of Xerxes.
The founding of Van is ascribed to Semiramis, who, according to
Armenian history, named it Shemiramagerd, and was accustomed to resort
to its gardens, which she had herself planted and watered, to escape
from the fierce heat of the summer at Nineveh. The well of Semiramis
and other works attributed to her bring her name frequently into
conversation--indeed she is mentioned as familiarly as Queen Elizabeth
is among us!
[Illustration: ROCK AND CITADEL OF VAN.
_To face p. 338, vol. II._]
The town, which is walled, is not particularly attractive, but there
is one very handsome mosque, and a very interesting Armenian church,
eleven centuries old, dedicated to St. Peter and St. Paul. The houses
are mean-looking, but their otherwise shabby uniformity is broken up
by lattice windows. The bazars are poorly built, but are clean, well
supplied, and busy, though the trade of Van is suffering from the
general insecurity of the country and the impoverishment of the
peasantry. It is very pleasant that in the Van bazars ladies can walk
about freely, encountering neither the hoots of boys nor the
petrifying Islamic scowl.
[Illustration: KURDS OF VAN.]
Fifty years ago Venetian beads were the only articles imported from
Europe. Now, owing to the increasing enterprise of the Armenians,
every European necessary of life can be obtained, as well as many
luxuries. Peek and Frean's biscuits, Moir's and Crosse and Blackwell's
tinned meats and jams, English patent medicines, Coats' sewing cotton,
Belfast linens, Berlin wools, Jaeger's vests, and all sorts of
materials, both cotton and woollen, abound. I did not see such a
choice and abundance of European goods in any bazar in Persia, and in
the city of Semiramis, and beneath the tablet of Xerxes, there is a
bazar devoted to Armenian tailors, and to the clatter of American
sewing machines stitching Yorkshire cloth! One of these tailors has
made a heavy cloth ulster for me, which the American ladies pronounce
perfect in fit and "style!"