enlarging their commerce and introducing new imports. Better than
this, they are paying great attention to education, and several of
their merchants seem to be actuated by a liberal and enlightened
spirit. It is, however, to usury not less than to trade that they owe
their prosperity. The presence of Europeans in Van, in the persons of
the missionaries and vice-consuls, in addition to the admirable
influence exerted by the former, has undoubtedly a growing tendency
towards ameliorating the condition of the Christian population.
In the _vilayet_ of Van it is estimated by Colonel Severs Bell that
the Christians outnumber the Moslems by 80,000, the entire population
being estimated at 340,000. In the city of Van, with a population
estimated by him at 32,000, the Christians are believed to be as 3 to
1.[53]
The formalities required for Turkish travelling are many and
increasing, and from ignorance of one of them Johannes has been
arrested, and Mirza marched to the Consulate by the police. I have
been obliged to part with the former and send him back to Hamadan, as
it would not be safe to take the risky journey to Erzerum with such an
inexperienced and untrustworthy servant. Through Mr. Devey's kindness
I have obtained an interpreter and servant in Murphy O'Rourke, a
British subject, but a native of Turkey, and equally at home in
English, Turkish, and Armenian, though totally illiterate.
I. L. B.
FOOTNOTES:
[51] Van may be considered the capital of that part of Kurdistan which
we know as Armenia, but it must be remembered that under the present
Government of Turkey Armenia is a prohibited name, and has ceased to
be "a geographical expression." Cyclopaedias containing articles on
Armenia, and school books with any allusions to Armenian history, or
to the geography of any district referred to as Armenia, are not
allowed to enter Asia Minor, and no foreign maps which contain the
province of Armenia are allowed to be used in the foreign schools, or
even to be retained in the country. Of the four millions of the
Armenian race 2,500,000 are subjects of the Sultan, and with few
exceptions are distinguished for their loyalty and their devotion to
peaceful pursuits.
The portion of Armenia which lies within the Turkish frontier consists
for the most part of table-lands from 5000 to 6000 feet in elevation,
intersected by mountain ranges and watered by several rivers, the
principal of which are the Euphrates, the Tigris, and the Aras. Of its
many lakes the Dead Sea of Van is the principal, its dimensions being
estimated at twice the area of the Lake of Geneva, and at eighty miles
in length by twenty-five in breadth. From its exquisitely beautiful
shores rise the two magnificent extinct volcanoes, the Sipan Dagh,
with an altitude of over 12,000 feet, and the Nimrud Dagh, with a
crater five miles in diameter and 1600 feet in depth, the top of its
wall being over 9000 feet in height.
The Armenians claim an antiquity exceeding that of any other nation,
and profess to trace their descent from Haik, the son of Togarmah, the
grandson of Japhet, who fled from the tyranny of Belus, King of
Assyria, into the country which in the Armenian tongue is known by his
name, as _Haikh_ or _Haizdani_. It may be said of the Armenians that
the splendour and misery of their national history exceed those of any
other race. Their national church claims an older than an apostolic
foundation, and historically dates from the third century, its actual
founder, S. Gregory the Illuminator, having been consecrated at
Caesarea as Bishop of Armenia in the second year of the fourth century.
In the fifteenth century a schism brought about by Jesuit missionaries
resulted in a number of Armenians joining the Church of Rome, and
becoming later a separate community known as the "Catholic Armenian
Church." Within the last half-century, under the teaching of the
American missionaries, a Reformed Church has arisen, known as the
Protestant Armenian Church, but with these exceptions the race and the
national church may be regarded as one. The Armenians have had no
political existence since the year 1604, but form an element of
stability and wealth in Turkey, Russia, and Persia, where they are
principally found.
Their language is regarded by scholars as an off-shoot of the Iranian
branch of the Indo-Germanic group of languages. Their existing
literature dates from the fourth century, and all that is not
exclusively Christian has perished. Translations of the Old and New
Testaments dating from the fifth century are among its oldest
monuments, and the dialect in which they are written, and in which
they are still read in the churches, known as Old Armenian, is not now
understood by the people. During the last century there has been a
great revival of letters among the Armenians, chiefly due to the
_Mekhitarists_ of Venice, and a literature in modern Armenian is
rapidly developing alongside of the study and publication of the works
of the ancient writers.
[52] It has, however, received due attention both from scholars and
antiquaries, and among the popularly-written accounts of it are very
interesting chapters in Sir A. H. Layard's _Nineveh and Babylon_, and
in a charming volume by the Rev. H. F. Tozer, _Turkish Armenia and
Eastern Asia Minor_.
[53] An estimate by Mr. Devey, Her Britannic Majesty's Vice-Consul at
Van, gives a population of only 250,000 for the whole _vilayet_.
LETTER XXXII
BITLIS, _Nov. 10_.
I arrived here two days ago, having ridden the ninety miles from Van
in three and a half days. Dr. Reynolds accompanied me, and as we had a
couple of _zaptiehs_ on good horses we deserted the caravan, and came
along at as good a pace as the mountainous nature of the road would
allow. The early winter weather is absolutely perfect for travelling.
All along I am quite impressed with the resemblance which the southern
shores of Lake Van bear to some of the most beautiful parts of the
Italian Riviera--Italian beauty seen under an Italian sky. Travellers
lose a great deal by taking the easier route round the north shore of
the lake.
The first day's half march ended at Angugh, an Armenian village on the
river Hashal, on the plain of Haizdar or Haigatsor, where the people
complained of some Armenian women having been despoiled of their
jewels by some Kurds during the afternoon. The views are magnificent
_en route_, especially of the Christian village of Artemid, on a spur
on a height, with a Moslem village in gardens below, with green
natural lawns sloping to the lake. At Angugh I was well accommodated
in a granary on a roof, and as there was no room for my bed, found a
comfortable substitute in a blanket spread upon the wheat. The next
day's march was through exquisitely beautiful scenery, partly skirting
deep bays on paths cut in the rock above them, among oaks and ferns,
and partly crossing high steep promontories which jut out into the
lake. A few villages, where strips of level ground and water for
irrigation can be obtained, are passed, and among them the village of
Vastan, the "Seat of Government" for the district, and a Turkish
telegraph station, but in the eleventh century the residence of the
Armenian royal family of Ardzrauni.
Art aids nature, and there are grand old monasteries on promontories,
and Kurdish castles on heights, and flashing streams and booming
torrents are bridged by picturesque pointed arches. There are 150
monasteries in this region, and the towers of St. George at the
mountain village of Narek, high on a rocky spur above one of the most
beautiful of the many wooded valleys which descend upon the lake of
Van, lend an air of medieval romance to a scene as fair as nature can
make it. Nearly all the romantic valleys opening on the lake are
adorned with one or more villages, with houses tier above tier in
their rocky clefts, and terrace below terrace of exquisite cultivation
below, of the vivid velvety green of winter wheat. These terraces
often "hang" above green sward and noble walnut trees. Occasionally
the villages are built at the feet of the mountains, on small plateaux
above steep-sided bays, and are embosomed in trees glowing with
colour, from canary-yellow to crimson and madder-red, and mountains,
snow-crested and forest-skirted tower over all. Lake Van, bluer than
the blue heavens, with its huge volcanic heights--Sipan Dagh, Nimrud
Dagh, and Varak Dagh, and their outlying ranges--its deep green bays
and quiet wooded inlets; its islets, some like the Bass Rock, others
monastery-covered; its pure green shadows and violet depths; its heavy
boats with their V-shaped sails; and its auburn oak-covered slopes,
adds its own enchantment, and all is as fair as fair can be.
Though the state of things among the Christians is not nearly so bad
as in some of the Syrian valleys, the shadow of the Kurd is over this
paradise. The Armenians complain of robbery with violence as being of
constant occurrence, and that they have been plundered till they are
unable to pay the taxes, and it is obvious that travellers, unless in
large companies, are not safe without a Government escort. In each
village the common sheepfold is guarded from sunset to sunrise by a
number of men--a heavy burden on villagers whose taxation should
ensure them sufficient protection from marauders.
In one of the fairest bays on this south side of the lake is the
island rock of Akhtamar, crowned with a church and monastery built of
red sandstone. The convent boat, which plies daily to the mainland for
supplies, is available for travellers. Eleven monks with their pupils
inhabit the rock. It is a very ancient foundation, dating from A.D.
633, and the church is attributed to the Armenian King Kakhik, who
reigned in the tenth century. It is a cruciform building, with a
hexagonal tower and a conical terminal at the intersection of the
cross. The simple interior is decorated with some very rude pictures,
and a gilded throne for the Patriarch stands at the east end. This
Patriarchate of Akhtamar, the occupant of which has at times claimed
the title of _Catholicos_, was founded in 1113 by an archbishop of
Akhtamar who declared himself independent of the _Catholicos_ of the
Armenian Church who resides in Echmiadzin, but at the present time he
has only a few adherents in the immediate neighbourhood of Van, and
has the reputation of extreme ignorance, and of being more of a farmer
than an ecclesiastic. He was at Haikavank, at the fine farm on the
mainland possessed by the convent, but we had not time to call.
Plain as is the interior of the Church of Akhtamar, the exterior is
most elaborately ornamented with bas-reliefs, very much undercut.
Three of the roofs rest on friezes on which birds and beasts in
singularly vigorous action are portrayed, and there are besides two
rows of heads in high relief, and a number of scripture subjects very
boldly treated, in addition to some elaborate scroll-work, and bands
of rich foliage. On this remarkable rock Dr. Reynolds and his family
took refuge a few years ago, when it was apprehended that Van would be
sacked by the Kurds.
The vivid colouring of the lake is emphasised by a line of pure white
deposit which runs round its margin, and vivacity is given to its
waters by innumerable wild fowl, flamingoes, geese, ducks, pelicans,
cormorants, etc. From a reedy swamp near it ducks rose in such numbers
as literally to darken the air. Carbonate of soda and chloride of
sodium are obtained from the lake water by evaporation, but it is not
nearly so salt as that of the Sea of Urmi. Not very far from the south
shore a powerful fresh-water spring bubbles up in the midst of the
salt water. The only fish known of is a species said to be like a
small herring. These are captured in enormous quantities in the spring
as they come up into the streams which feed the lake.
On the last two nights at Undzag and Ghazit I had my first experiences
of the Turkish _odah_ or village guest-house or _khan_, of which, as
similar abodes will be my lodgings throughout my journey to Erzerum, I
will try to give you an idea. Usually partially excavated in the
hillside and partly imbedded in the earth, the _odah_ is a large
rambling room with an irregular roof supported on rough tree-stems. In
the centre, or some other convenient place, is a mud platform slightly
raised; in the better class of _odahs_ this has a fireplace in the
wall at one end. Round this on three sides is a deep manger, and
similar mangers run along the side walls and into the irregular
recesses, which are lost in the darkness. The platform is for human
beings, and the rest of the building for horses, mules, oxen, asses,
and buffaloes, with a few sheep and goats probably in addition. The
_katirgis_ and the humbler class of travellers sleep among the beasts,
the remainder, without distinction of race, creed, or sex, on the
enclosed space. Light enters from the door and from a few small holes
in the roof, which are carefully corked up at night, and then a few
iron cups of oil with wicks, the primitive lamp in general use,
hanging upon the posts, give forth a smoky light.
In such an _odah_ there may be any number of human beings cooking,
eating, and sleeping, and from twenty to a hundred animals, or more,
as well as the loads of the pack-horses and the arms of the
travellers. As the eye becomes accustomed to the smoke and dimness, it
sees rows of sweet ox faces, with mild eyes and moist nostrils, and
wild horse faces surrounding the enclosure, and any number more
receding into the darkness. Ceaseless munching goes on, and a neigh or
a squeal from some unexpected corner startles one, or there is a horse
fight, which takes a number of men to quell it. Each animal is a
"living stove," and the heat and closeness are so insupportable that
one awakes quite unrefreshed in the morning in a temperature of 80 deg.
The _odah_ is one of the great features of travelling in Eastern Asia
Minor. I dined and spent the evenings in its warmth and cheeriness,
enjoying its wild picturesqueness, but at Undzag I pitched my small
tent at the stable door, and at Ghazit on the roof, and braved the
cold in it.
_Boy_ is usually close to me, eating scraps from my dinner, and gently
biting the back of my neck when he thinks that I am forgetting his
presence. He amuses all the men everywhere by his affectionateness,
and eating out of my hand, and following me like a dog. I never saw
so gentle and trustworthy a creature. His hair has grown very long,
thick, and woolly, and curls in parts like that of a retriever. His
sweet ways have provided him with a home after his powerful legs and
big feet have trudged with me to Trebizond, for my hosts here, who are
old and somewhat frail, have taken such a fancy to his gentleness and
winsomeness that he is to return to them when the roads open in the
spring.
It was a grand ride from Undzag over lofty mountain passes to the
exquisitely-situated village of Ghazit, built in a deep _cul de sac_
above the lake. Terraces, one above another, rise from the lake shore,
so beautifully cultivated as to realise Emerson's description of the
appearance of English soil, "Tilled with a pencil instead of a
plough." A church stands on a height, and the village, almost hidden
among magnificent walnuts, is crowded upon a terrace of green sward at
the foot of a semicircle of mountains which wall it in from the world.
The narrow village road, with its low, deep-eaved stone houses, was
prettily brightened by colour, for all the women were dressed more or
less in red, and wore high red coronets with dependent strings of
coins, and broad aprons, reaching from the throat to the feet, of
coarse dark blue cotton, completely covered with handsome patterns
worked in cross-stitch in silk.
Fine walnut trees are one of the specialities of this part of Turkey.
They provide much of the oil which is used during the long fasts which
both Armenians and Syrians observe, and they develop very large woody
excrescences or knots, the grain and mottling of which are peculiarly
beautiful. These are sought for by buyers for Paris houses even in the
remote valleys of Kurdistan for use in the making and veneering of
furniture, especially of pianos. Fortunately the removal of this
growth does not kill the tree, and after a time the bark grows over
much of the uncovered portion of the trunk, only a scar being left.
At sunset that evening 800 sheep were driven into the village
sheepfold just below the roof on which my tent was pitched, and it was
a very picturesque scene, men pushing their way through them to find
their own sheep by ear-mark, women with difficulty milking ewes here
and there, big dogs barking furiously from the roofs above, and all
the sheep bleating at once. In winter they are all housed and hand
fed. The snow lies six feet deep, and Ghazit can communicate neither
with Bitlis nor Van. It is the "milk of the flocks" which is prized.
Cows' milk is thought but little of. I made my supper of one of the
great articles of diet in Turkey, boiled cracked wheat, sugar, and
_yohoort_, artificially soured milk, looking like whipped cream.
I was glad to escape to my tent from the heat and odours of the
_odah_, even though I had to walk over sheep's backs to get up to the
roof. I had a guard of two men, and eight more armed with useless
matchlock guns watched the sheepfold. I was awakened by a tremendous
noise, the barking of infuriated dogs close to me, the clashing of
arms and the shouts of men, mixed up with the rapid firing of guns not
far off on the mountain side, so near, indeed, that I could see the
flashes. It was a Kurdish alarm, but nothing came of it. A village
which we passed a few hours later was robbed of 600 sheep, however.
Leaving beautiful Ghazit before the sun rose upon it the next morning,
we spent some hours in skirting the lake, and in crossing elevated
passes and following paths along hillsides covered with oaks, the
russet leaves of which are being cut for winter "keep." The dwarf
juniper is also abundant. After crossing a pass on the top of which
are graves covered with heavy stone slabs with inscriptions on their
sides, and head-stones eight feet high inscribed with epitaphs in
Kufic or early Arabic, we descended upon the great plain of Rahwan,
separated from the plain of Mush only by a very low ridge, which,
however, is a remarkable water-parting, dividing the drainage systems
of the Tigris and the Euphrates. On this solitary plain there are the
ruins of a magnificent building, known as "the Persian Khan," built of
large blocks of hewn stone. Parts of it are still available for
shelter during snowstorms. It has courtyards with stately entrances,
domes, arches, and vaulted chambers, and is a very striking object.
Two other _khans_ are placed as refuges in the valley nearer Bitlis.
Shortly afterwards we reached the meeting-place of three valleys and
three roads, leading respectively to the plain of Mush, the lake of
Van, and Bitlis. It is in this neighbourhood that the eastern source
of the Tigris is situated, and here there is also the great interest
of coming upon one of the landmarks on the retreat of the Ten
Thousand. Scholars appear to agree in general that this gallant band
must have come up by these eastern sources of the Tigris, for then, as
now, the only practicable entrance into Armenia from the Karduchi
territory, the modern Kurdistan, was by this route.[54]
The march was very long and fatiguing, and as we were compelled to
rest for two hours at the beautifully-situated village of Toogh,
evening was coming on with a gray sky and a lurid sunset before we
left the Rahwan plain, after which we had a ride of more than three
hours down the wild and stony Bitlis valley before we reached our
destination. If I had made this march in spring, when herbage and
flowers drape the nakedness of the rocky and gravelly mountains and
precipices, it would not have made such an impression upon me as it
did, but seeing the apparently endless valley for ever winding and
falling to the south, with two bars of lurid light for ever lying
across what never proved to be its opening, and the higher peaks
rising snow-crested into a dark and ominous-looking sky, I think it
one of the weirdest and wildest rides I ever took.
The infant Tigris is rapidly augmented by a number of streams and
torrents. The descent was like taking leave of the bright upper world
to go down into some nether region, from which there would be no exit.
The valley, at times narrowing into a ravine, is hemmed in by sterile
mountains, so steep as not to afford sites for villages. There are
parapetless ancient arches of stone, flung across torrents which have
carved hideous pathways for themselves through hideous rocks, scoriae,
and other signs of volcanic action, rough gulches, with narrow paths
hanging on their sides, and in spite of many climbs upwards the course
is on the whole downwards.
Darkness settled upon the valley long before lights, in what looked
like infinite depths, and straggling up remarkable heights, trees,
stone walls, and such steep ups and downs that it felt as if the
horses were going to topple over precipices, denoted that we had
entered Bitlis. Then came a narrow gateway, a flagged courtyard choked
with mules and men, a high house with heavily-barred windows, a steep
outside stair, and at the top sweet faces and sweet voices of
European women, and lights and warm welcomes.
_Bitlis, November 12._--This is the most romantically-situated city
that I have seen in Western Asia. The dreamy impressions of height and
depth received on the night of my arrival were more than realised the
following morning. Even to the traveller arriving by daylight Bitlis
must come as a great surprise, for it is situated in a hole upon which
the upper valley descends with a sudden dip. The Bitlis-chai or
Eastern Tigris passes through it in a series of raging cataracts, and
is joined in the middle of the town by another torrent tumbling down
another wild valley, and from this meeting of the waters massive stone
houses rise one above another, singly, and in groups and terraces,
producing a singularly striking effect. Five valleys appear to unite
in Bitlis and to radiate from a lofty platform of rock supported on
precipices, the irregular outlines of which are emphasised by walls
and massive square and circular towers, the gigantic ruins of Bitlis
Castle.
The massiveness of the houses is remarkable, and their courtyards and
gardens are enclosed by strong walls. Every gate is strengthened and
studded with iron, every window is heavily barred, all are at a
considerable height, and every house looks as if it could stand a
siege. There is no room to spare; the dwellings are piled tier above
tier, and the flagged footways in front of them hang on the edges of
precipices. Twenty picturesque stone bridges, each one of a single
arch, span the Tigris and the torrents which unite with it. There are
ancient ruins scattered through the town. It claims immense antiquity,
and its inhabitants ascribe its castle and some of its bridges to
Alexander the Great, but antiquarians attribute the former either to
the Saracens or to the days when an ancient Armenian city called
Paghesh occupied the site of the present Bitlis. It seems like the end
of the world, though through the deep chasms below it, through which
the Tigris descends with great rapidity to the plains, lies the
highway to Diabekir. Suggestions of the ancient world abound. The
lofty summits towering above the basin in which this extraordinary
city lies are the termination of the Taurus chain, the Niphates of the
ancients, on the highest peak of which Milton localised the descent of
Satan.[55]