THE KURDS AND ARMENIANS.
Turkish Armenia, the northwestern division of Kurdestan, is a
great plateau of nearly sixty thousand square miles, bounded on the
north by the Russian frontier, by Persia on the east, the plains of
Mesopotamia on the west, and Asia Minor on the south. There are in
all, at the present time, about four million Armenians on the globe,
of whom little more than half are in Turkey, and the rest in Russia,
Persia, other Asiatic countries, Europe and America. In Armenia--the
name and geographical existence of which are not recognized in
Turkey--there are probably six hundred thousand native Armenians,
or one-fourth of the whole number that are scattered throughout the
Porte's dominions. The climate is temperate and bracing. Facilities
for travel and transportation are exceedingly meagre, and all the
methods employed by the natives are unusually primitive. "Valis," or
municipal governors, are appointed by the government at Constantinople
to administer the laws, and none but Moslems hold official positions.
Among the population are found many races, including Turks, Kurds,
Russians, Circassians, and Jews, besides native Armenians. Fully
one-half the people are Mohammedan. The Kurds lead a pastoral
and predatory life, dwelling in mountain villages over the entire
region. Their number is uncertain, but it is estimated that in the
villages of Erzeroum, Van and Bitlis there are not less than six
hundred thousand. Some of these tribes are migratory, like the Bedouins
of Syria. Almost all are warlike, and many have degenerated into
lawless brigands. For centuries they have made serfs of the Christians,
trampling them under foot at every opportunity, and extending to
them no toleration whatsoever. These rude mountaineers delight in
bloodshed and pillage, and it was their oppression of the Armenian
villagers which precipitated the distress in Sassoun, Moush, Bitlis,
and the surrounding country. The Kurdish costumes are picturesque, and
nearly all the tribesmen are magnificent horsemen. The government at
Constantinople organized them as a military force, and bestowed the
name "Hamidieh" on their cavalry regiments, but their spirit, like
that of the wild Arab, the Cossack, or the North American Indian, is
one that scarcely brooks the restraints of military discipline. They
were always formidably armed, and weapons in the hands of such a
war-loving race were an incentive to disturbance and outrage. They
spread universal terror among the Armenians by their cruelty and
frightful excesses for many centuries, but it was reserved for our
own time to witness the exhibition of barbarism on their part that
filled Europe and America with horror.
Kurdestan, which is a name very common in the East, is no more than
a geographical appellation for the entire country inhabited by the
Kurds. Its area is estimated at more than fifty thousand square
miles. This region has no political boundaries, but includes both
Persian and Turkish territory. It may be said to extend from Turkish
Armenia, on the north, to the plains of the middle Tigris, and the
Luristan mountains, on the south. It contains many other people besides
Kurds, such as Turks, Nestorians, Chaldeans, Persians and Armenians.
The origin and ancestry of the Kurds, like that of most Eastern
nations, is still unsettled among ethnologists. They stand among
the Asiatic races, like the Basques and Lapps in Europe, wrapt in
obscurity. They are a people without a literature, and almost without
a history. They number about two millions, six hundred thousand of
whom are under Persia, the rest being under Turkey. They are divided
into many independent tribes; the tribal feeling is very strong,
a very fortunate thing for Turkey and Persia, for could the Kurds be
firmly united these Empires might often suffer much at their hands.
Some of them are nomadic, not, however, wandering indefinitely,
for they have well defined circuits which they make annually.
But some of them are agricultural people, who live in villages,
tilling ground on the plains and hillsides. It is amusing to notice
them on their way to their work, dragging along their sluggish limbs,
as though they might drop asleep at any moment. They will waste two
hours before they even start to work. After an hour of pretended labor,
in which they have really accomplished nothing, they will have to sit
down and smoke awhile. But look at the Kurd as he rides his Arabian
steed, gun on shoulder, sword at side and spear in hand--a veritable
angel of death. His dark eyes and gloomy countenance are fearful to
look upon. These warriors sleep most of the day, and at sunset start
on their robbing expeditions. They descend to the numerous villages
in the valleys and drive away the cattle and flocks, no one daring to
oppose them, as their very name strikes terror to the hearts of the
people. Robbing is their business, and they believe that God created
them for this purpose only.
One who has conversed with many of them, asked them why they
steal. They answered that every man has some occupation; one is a
judge, one a merchant, one a farmer, and "we are robbers." They make
their living in this way. "Why don't you work?" "We do not know how
to work." "Why do you kill people?" "When we meet a man that we wish
to rob, if we find him stronger than ourselves, we have to kill him
in order to rob him." "But you are liable to be killed some day." "We
must die at some time," they answer, "what is the difference between
dying now and a few days hence?"
The Kurds are profoundly ignorant and stupid, with neither books nor
schools. Of the whole race not one in ten thousand can read.
The most of the summer they live in tents in the cool places on the
mountain slopes and valleys. Their winter houses are built underground,
most of them having a single room with one or two small holes at
the top for light. This serves for a bedroom, parlor, kitchen and
stable. In the daytime they are all away; towards sunset they come in,
one by one, at least a score of men, women and children; but already
the hens have found their resting place; sheep, oxen and horses each
in their corner. After it is quite dark, coarse, stale bread and
sour milk are brought out for supper. Two spoons and one big dish
are sufficient for all; each in his turn tries the spoon. Of course
this is always done in the dark, as they have no lights. Now it is
bedtime and one after another finds his place under the same quilt
without a pillow or bed. In a few minutes all are fast asleep, and
soon the heavy breathing and snoring of men and cattle is mingled,
and the effect is anything but a sweet sound. The temperature of the
room is sometimes as high as a hundred, and swarms of fleas (one of
which would be enough to disturb the rest of an entire American family)
attack the wild Kurd, but he stirs not until morning, the fleas being
exhausted sooner than the men.
Their women wear an exceedingly picturesque costume. They have dark
complexions, with eyes and hair intensely black. Their beauty is
not of a refined type, but by a mass of paint is made sufficiently
attractive for their easily pleased husbands. Almost all the work,
both in and out of doors, is done by them. Early in the morning,
when they are through their home work, they hasten to the field to
attend the flocks, or gather fuel for use in winter. In the evening
they come in with large burdens on their backs, which appear to
be quite enough for two donkeys to carry. So industrious are they,
that they frequently spin on their way to and from work, singing all
the while, apparently as happy as if all the world were theirs. This
industry the men do not appreciate, or reward. They will not hesitate,
when it is raining, to drag the women from the tent, in order to make
room for a favorite steed.
This country of Kurdestan is filled with wonderful ruins. On its
western border is an inscription upon the face of a cliff which was
written by Nebuchadnezzar when he came to conquer this country.
In the city of Farkin, only five miles from Kilise, there are most
magnificent ruins of churches, castles and towers. The columns still
standing in one of these ruined churches are about twelve feet high
and over two feet in diameter and above the arches thus supported is
another corresponding series.
This church is closely surrounded with a great many graves--thousands
of them--so that the church is often spoken of as "the Church of
Martyrs."
In all probability these are some of the ruins with which Tamerlane
filled the land at the beginning of the Fifteenth century, and these
are the remains of the splendid Christian civilization which he so
ruthlessly destroyed, and the Kurdish-Armenians are the descendants
of the few Armenians who accepted of Islam to save themselves and
their families from utter destruction. Compulsory conversion to
Islam is still the order of the day in all the desolated districts
of Turkish-Armenia.
ARMENIA IN THE MOUNTAINS.
The following tour through the heart of Armenia and part of Kurdestan
is prepared that the reader may follow more easily the course of
the whirlwind of death and desolation that was soon to sweep down
from the upper valleys of Ararat far out upon the plains until it
met the cyclone from the West and enveloped the whole land in misery,
destitution and despair, filled all the air of heaven with the shrieks
and agonies of the tortured and the dying martyrs for the faith once
delivered to the saints.
We enter the valley at Kharput or Harpoot, which is situated in the
valley of the Murad, the eastern branch of the Euphrates river. Coming
into the valley from the west, we find ourselves in the midst of
a well-cultivated district, and as we advance the villages become
numerous. The city is situated upon rising ground, which is bounded
by a long line of steep, flat-topped heights. The approach from the
south presents a most striking appearance as we ascend by a steep,
winding path the narrow ravine reaching up to the plateau above,
where at the base of the ruined walls of a medieval castle, nestle
the buildings of a part of the Armenian quarter--the rest of the city
spreading out to the verge of the hill.
From this height, a thousand feet above the lower ground, there is a
superb prospect over the rich plain studded with villages and bounded
on the south by the Taurus range, which contains the sources of the
Tigris and separates this country from the lowlands of Mesopotamia. To
the east and west lie an expanse of undulating ground, stretching on
the one hand towards the Murad, into which this district drains, on
the other in the direction of the Euphrates. The length of this plain
to the foot of the Taurus is about fifteen miles, while the Murad
is about the same distance eastward. This plain is a most beautiful
sight in the spring time, when the whole is one vast carpet of
green. According to the natives, the number of the villages it contains
is three hundred and sixty-five, and they also claim this place was
the site of Eden--they even point out the place where Adam first saw
the light. The houses of the missionaries of the American Board and
the college buildings, all of which were laid in ruins, were built
not far from the edge of the high precipitous cliff and commanded this
beautiful prospect. The elevation of Kharput, or Harpoot, is about four
thousand five hundred feet above sea level. From its strategic position
it has been occupied by a city from very early times. It is now the
leading city in the province and has about five thousand houses--five
hundred Armenian, the rest Turkish, while the villages in the plains
are occupied almost entirely by the Armenians. These villages were
almost swept off the earth during the Harpoot massacres. The Armenian
College was the finest in Eastern Turkey and the value of mission
property destroyed was upwards of $80,000.
A day's journey up the eastern branch of the Euphrates brings us
to the Castle-rock of Palu. This rock is nine hundred feet above
the river and on its summit is the town of about one thousand five
hundred houses. Palu has the honor of being the dwelling place of
St. Mesrob, the saint who invented the Armenian alphabet about 406
A. D., and translated the Scriptures into that tongue. His name is
still in great repute in his native country.
If we should leave the valley of the Euphrates to the northward, five
hours of steep climbing would bring us to the top of the mountain
ridge that overlooks the great plain of Moush, which stretches forty
miles away to the eastward towards Lake Van. From the top of this
ridge to the Monastery of St. John the Baptist the road is one of the
most beautiful in all Armenia, as it follows a terrace path along the
mountain side through low forests, commanding a succession of beautiful
views into the valley of the Euphrates. On rounding a shoulder of
the mountain we have the first sight of the towers of the monastery,
which occupies a small table of ground with very steep slopes both
above and below it, at an elevation of six thousand feet above the
sea and about two thousand above the plain.
This Monastery was founded by St. Gregory the Illuminator, the Apostle
of the Armenians, having in residence before the massacres twenty Monks
and one hundred lay brethren under the care of the Superior. Some of
these priests were highly educated, speaking French fluently beside
Armenian and Turkish. But all these monasteries were utterly destroyed
by the Kurds in the late savage raids.
The town of Moush is nearly a day's ride up the Euphrates valley
from the point where the road down the mountains from the Monastery
reaches the river. The plain is one of great beauty--quite productive,
growing fine harvests of wheat. Fine gardens are found about the
villages which nestle in the ravines which put up into the Taurus
mountains on the south side of the plain. At the head of one of these
narrow valleys is the city of Moush of three thousand houses, about
one-fourth of them belonging to Armenians. The hillsides are devoted
to gardens and vineyards which flourish here, though the elevation
is four thousand feet above the sea. This plain was swept with the
wind of desolation at the time of the Sassoun massacre.
As we continue our journey up the valley we rapidly rise above the
plain into the mountains which separate the valley of Moush from
Lake Van.
A few hours' ride from Nurshin, the last Armenian village, takes
us through a mountain pass about six thousand feet high, into the
territory of the Kurds--Kurdestan.
We take this way that we may more readily understand how the Kurds and
the Turks could make such awful havoc of the Armenians when they were
"let loose" upon them.
When the head of this pass is reached, we are at a point of some
geographical interest. It is one of Nature's great crossroads. The
waters from this mountain plateau, flow north and westward down the
valley of Moush into the Euphrates, another valley opens eastward and
downwards into Lake Van, and another southwards into the Tigris. It
is somewhat similar to the water shed in the Rocky Mountains above
Leadville, Col., where, from the same marshy plateau, the waters
flow southward, forming the Arkansas, and so through the Royal Gorge,
into the plains of Colorado eastward, and also westward and southward
into the Grand River, through a most magnificent and beautiful Canon,
past Glenwood Springs and so into the Colorado River and the Gulf
of California.
Let us turn southward and make an excursion to Bitlis before resuming
the journey to Van. At various points in this high mountain valley are
massively built stone Khans which are intended as refuges for travelers
at unfavorable seasons of the year. They make considerable pretensions
to architectural beauty, having portals and arched recesses and are
of great antiquity. Three hours' hard riding down a bare stony valley
would bring us to the entrance of Bitlis.
When approached from this side Bitlis comes upon us as a surprise, for
until you are within it, there is nothing but a few trees to suggest
that an inhabited place is near. It lies completely below the level of
the upper valley which here suddenly makes a sheer descent so that the
river which has now been swelled into a fair sized torrent, breaks into
rapids and cataracts in its passage through the town. In the middle of
the place it is joined by another stream from the mountains towards the
northwest: and the buildings climb up the hillsides at the meeting of
these valleys, rising one above another with a striking effect. Thus
the Tigris breaks its way through deep chasms below, and for several
days' journey descends with great rapidity to the lower country. We
will be struck with the massiveness of the stone built houses with
large courts and gardens and abundance of trees surrounded with strong
walls, the coping stones of which are constructed so as to rise to
a sharp angle at the top.
In the middle of the town between the two streams rises the
castle, occupying a platform of rock, the sides of which fall
away precipitously and like all the cliffs around have vertical
cleavings. The space which it covers is large, and it forms a very
conspicuous object with its square and circular towers following the
broken surface of the ground. There is a dull tone however, about the
town, because of the brown sandstone which is used in its construction,
being of the same hue as the bare mountains about it.
Remember that now we are on the southern slope of the mountains facing
Arabia, and the climate is milder than in the Valley of Moush. The
elevation is four thousand seven hundred feet and the thermometer
rarely falls below zero in winter.
At Bitlis is a missionary station in charge of Rev. Mr. Knapp. The
Kurdish mountains rise about the city in bare, cold grandeur. These
summits are the conclusion of the Taurus Chain. They are the Niphates
of antiquity, on the highest peak of which Milton makes his Satan
to alight. [Par. Lost III. 741, "Nor stayed, till on Niphates' top
he lights."]
The Castle is said to have been built by Alexander the Great. Bitlis
was the site of an ancient Armenian city and was strongly fortified
in the days of the Saracens. It recently contained thirty thousand
inhabitants, ten thousand being Armenians. This city was the scene
of a terrible slaughter and being determined that the Armenians who
were left should perish by starvation, the Porte placed Mr. Knapp
under arrest for treason and ordered him taken to Constantinople for
trial before United States Minister Terrell.
Returning up to the head waters of the Tigris we next see a level plain
extending eastward, hemmed in on either side by lofty mountains. Here
in August are wheatfields extending up the hillsides to quite an
elevation, showing what the harvests of that region might become
under safe and careful husbandry.
Five hours' journey from Bitlis brings us to the opening of the valley
eastward, and as mountain ranges go sweeping around to the north and to
the south, suddenly Lake Van bursts upon our astonished vision in all
its beauty and grandeur. Fed by the snow upon the mountains, but with
no visible outlet, Lake Van is about twice the size of Lake Geneva,
as it lies in a hollow of these highlands five thousand feet above the
tide. Its extreme length is ninety miles, its breadth where widest
is thirty miles. This mountain lake is only five hundred feet lower
than the highest sources of the Tigris. On the northwestern shore of
the lake are the remarkable ruins of the very ancient Armenian city
of Akhlat, on the North Mount Sipan, an extinct volcano with most
imposing form and lofty summit, while on the southeastern shore is
the Castle rock of Van, which, without exaggeration may be spoken of
as one of the wonders of the world from its extraordinary formation,
its rock-hewn chambers and its cuneiform inscriptions.
Coming down to the lake on its western shore and skirting it
northwards, the little valleys are found full of copious springs
surrounded by willows and poplars and an abundance of most luxuriant
grass. Orchards filled with walnut, plum and apricot trees delight the
eyes, and the apricots also the palate, being of excellent flavor. The
ruins of Akhlat may be said to consist of three parts, the gardens
on the upper, the ruined city on the second level and the castle
one half mile distant on the lake shore. In the steep sandstone
cliffs which wall in the ruined city, are numerous caves and also
many artificial chambers, some of which were inhabited as late as
1880 as many doubtless now are in all parts of the mountains by the
destitute Armenians. The most of the ruins here are of a Saracenic
style of architecture. The castle is a large rectangular fortress
measuring six hundred yards from the sea to the crest of the hill and
three hundred yards across, having two gates which stand opposite to
one another in the middle of the eastern and the western wall. Two
ancient mosques, some fruit trees and ten inhabited cottages are the
inventory of its contents. We must cut short the trip up Mount Sipan
which is fourteen thousand feet high, for the sail in a very cumbrous
craft across the lake to the city of Van.
It takes about four hours' sailing to reach the landing place which
is about a mile from the city proper. Immediately from the shore
rises a curious mass of rocks commanding a most beautiful view. The
slopes of the sides are protected by a succession of irregular walls,
whose long outline is diversified by towers and other fortifications,
and a minaret.
This rock is three hundred feet high and runs due east from the lake
about two-thirds of a mile. At either end it rises by a gradual ascent
and on its summit are two forts and a central castle. The city which
is an irregular oblong lies entirely beneath this rock to the south,
and is enclosed by lines of Turkish walls with battlements. The famous
inscriptions are found for the greater part on this side of the rock,
the most important one occupying an inaccessible position halfway up
the face of the cliff.
This inscription is trilingual being written in three parallel columns
and is much later in date than some of the others that are found
there. It commemorates the exploits of Xerxes the son of Darius,
and is very nearly word for word the same as those of that king at
Hamadan and Persepolis.
When it was copied, a telescope was required to read it.
Here we see the Turks in large turbans and flowing robes, wild
looking Kurds in sheepskin jackets, Persians in tall felt hats,
and the Armenians in their more moderate dress.
There is a Christian assistant-governor here. He is supposed to
have much power, but in reality has very little, being not much
more than a convenient agent to the Governor. But his position has
this advantage that he is only removable by the central Government
at Constantinople, and not at the will of the Pasha for the time
being. The assistant-governor is an Armenian and speaks both French
and Italian well. The city contains about thirty thousand population
of whom three-fourths are Armenians. On account of the nearness of the
Persian frontier which is only sixteen hours off (about fifty miles)
there is kept in the city a garrison of four hundred soldiers.
The view from the summit is most enchanting for on the one side
lies the expanse of the blue sparkling lake with its circuit of
mountains--not unlike Great Salt Lake with the Wasatch Mountains to the
east and the beautiful plain stretching to the north and the south,
and the Mountains away to the west. The fortifications at the shore
end of the rock are of most massive stones, and are attributed to
Semiramis, as in old Armenian books Van was called Shemiramagard or
The City of Semiramis who made of it her summer capital.
The story of her love for the King of Armenia may be familiar. She had
heard of the remarkable personal beauty and wisdom of Ara the King and
sent Ambassadors offering him her hand and crown and love, and upon
his spurning the offer and the dishonorable proposals attending it,
she declared war against him giving orders that the King should not
be slain. She was greatly distressed when she heard he had fallen in
battle and before she left for Nineveh she had six hundred architects
and twelve thousand workmen employed in erecting this new city for
her summer residence.
The gardens of Van which stretch for several miles to the south and
southeast were her glory and pride. Copious rivulets and streams with
careful irrigation have made these gardens famous throughout the East.
Van was the only city which successfully resisted the Kurdish cavalry
and the Turkish soldiers. It became the center also of Dr. Kimball's
great relief work which was carried on through the generous aid
furnished by the Relief Fund of the Christian Herald of New York.
The mountains of Ararat, rise about sixty miles north of Lake
Van. After crossing the mountain divide which separates the watershed
of Van from that of Ararat, a valley opens out to the northeast. It
was one of the highways for the armies of the middle ages and the head
of the valley was once a strongly fortified city. Here were erected
the fortresses that protected the eastern frontier of the Byzantine
Empire when it stood at the zenith of its power.
Continuing our journey northwards the upland pastures are soon reached
and the Kurdish encampments with their black tents begin to be very
numerous. But being armed with a firman from the Porte, and with an
official escort we pass on without serious trouble. Now we come upon
a large encampment with numerous tents stretching along the course
of a clear mountain stream.
The men are a wild, surly looking set with hair streaming down in
long straggling locks. All of course are fully armed. The possessions
of these nomad Kurds may be seen about the encampment--sheep, goats,
oxen, cows, herds of horses, big mastiff dogs and greyhounds clothed
with small coats.
A first look at the Kurdish tents gives a person the idea that they
are chilly habitations, but there are tents within tents or separate
rooms partitioned off, having a plentiful supply of carpets, rugs and
pillows that are very comfortable indeed even in the cold nights they
have at that elevation of nearly eight thousand feet.
Resuming our journey and soon after crossing a ridge a thousand
feet higher than the valley where we have rested--the whole mass of
Ararat--not merely the snow capped dome--suddenly reveals itself from
base to summit--a most splendid sight.
Although the summit of Great Ararat, which has an elevation of
seventeen thousand nine hundred and sixteen feet, yields in height
to the peaks of the Caucasus in the north and to Demavend (nineteen
thousand four hundred feet) in the east, nearly five hundred miles
away, yet, as Bryce in his admirable book has observed, there can be
but few other places in the world where a mountain so lofty rises
from a plain so low. The summit of Great Ararat has the form of a
dome and is covered with perpetual snow; this dome crowns an oval
figure, the length of which is from northwest to southeast, and it is
therefore the long side of this dome which we see from the valley of
the Araxes. On the southeast, as we follow the outline farther, the
slope falls at a more rapid gradient of from thirty to thirty-five
degrees and ends in the saddle between the two mountains at a height
of nearly nine thousand feet. From that point it is the shape of the
Little Ararat which continues the outline towards the east; it rises
in the shape of a graceful pyramid to the height of twelve thousand
eight hundred and forty feet, and its summit is distant from that of
Great Ararat a space of nearly seven miles. The southeastern slope
of the lesser Ararat corresponds to the northwestern slope of the
greater mountain and descends to the floor of the river valley in a
long and regular train.
This mountain forms the boundary stone of three great Empires, the
northern slopes of Great Ararat belong to Russia, the southern slopes
to Turkey, while a portion of Little Ararat belongs to Persia.
From Ararat it is a six days' journey to Erzeroum along what may be
called the roof of Western Asia--these elevated plains being about six
thousand feet high, and forming the watershed between the Persian Gulf
and the Caspian Sea. While its own barrenness is as wearisome to the
eye as the plains of Wyoming from Laramie to the Wasatch Mountains,
it is constantly sending forth its streams to fertilize the far off
plains to the east and the south.
From the western slope of Ararat the Euphrates takes its rise--rapidly
cuts for itself a deep bed through steep walls of rock. Half a day's
journey down the river brings us in sight of the Monastery of Utch
Keliseh or "Three Churches." Only one, however, can be discovered--but
that is the finest Ecclesiastical building in all Ancient Armenia,
though in a sad state of disrepair, having been sacked by the Kurds
a few years ago.
It is built of large blocks of black and grey stone. It has both round
and pointed arches; the western door has a rude cable moulding over it,
and much interlaced ornament. But it would take the pen of a Ruskin
and numerous photographs to make the stones of this old church as
eloquent as the Stones of Venice, although the story they could tell
would be far more tragic than any story told beside the murmuring
waves of the Adriatic. These ruined Monasteries and Churches tell us
of a superior order of architecture for the houses also in the days
of prosperity, but now the poverty of the villagers is described by
their dwellings which are sometimes large in area, with low stone
wall, flat roofs, the living-room raised but a foot or two above
the floor of the stables. Here they are obliged to live--during the
bitter cold winter--the warmth from the presence of the cattle being
necessary to keep themselves from perishing, and for the sake of the
heat, the smells and the noises are endured. Another day's travel
will bring us through Delibaba pass which is a succession of hills
and valleys leading into the plains northward. After many miles of
travel across the broad plain through which runs the Araxes eastward,
the steep climbing of two extended ridges brings us to the top of the
mountain slope that stretches down into the plain of Erzeroum, the
city being built on the hillsides before they sweep out into the plain.
Erzeroum is the most important place in Armenia. The site is that of an
ancient city as it commands the pass on the main line of communication
between the Black Sea and Persia and is just on the edge of a wide
and fertile plain.
The population which was once very large has declined of late
years, and is now only about fifty thousand. About two-thirds are
Armenians. Owing to its elevation, six thousand feet, and the fact
that it lies on the north side of the range hence open to the blasts
from the Black Sea it is very cold in winter. About two thousand of
the people are Persians, and the great carrying trade is largely in
their hands. They enjoy great freedom and consideration.
The journey from Erzeroum lies westward across the plain for three
hours to the foot hills from which issue the "Hot Springs," where
Anatolius is said to have established his famous baths. In the
mountains north of Erzeroum, six hours distant, are the sources of
the western branch of the Euphrates River and from the warm springs
the route lies along the hills overlooking the course of the winding
river. Crossing the river the road skirts the broad and ever-winding
valley of the Frat as this branch of the Euphrates is called at
Erzeroum--until turning into a narrow rocky gorge the road begins
to climb the sides of the lofty Kop Dagh which is the great barrier
between Erzeroum and Baiburt on the road to Trebizond, and forms the
watershed between the valleys of the Euphrates and the Black Sea. The
road has been finely engineered and the rise is one of easy ascent,
but the roadbed is somewhat out of repair, the smaller bridges are
all but impassable. The higher the ascent the grander the views
become over the successive mountain ranges to the south and the long
depression that marks the course of the Frat, while the wild storms
that go sweeping over the sky in that direction add to the grandeur
of the effect. Imagine a sunset from the summit of this pass which is
nearly eight thousand feet above sea level, and then the rapid plunge
down the mountain side under deepening shadows to the large Khan at
its base called Kop Khané, which is the natural starting point or
resting place for all those who cross the pass of Kop Dagh.
This is a magnificent view across and down a wide valley bounded
by lofty mountains, and through it runs the river Tchoruk, which
flowing northwards then westward empties itself into the Black Sea
at Batoum. The town of Baiburt lies on either side of this river. The
river banks are flanked by extensive gardens with fruit and vegetables
and large poplar plantations, while directly opposite stands the lofty
castle hill crowned with a long and varied line of fortifications.
Baiburt is a considerable town of two thousand houses, three hundred
of which are inhabited by Christians.
This fine old castle was built centuries ago by the Armenians,
but had been captured and restored by the Seljukian Turks. But we
will not linger longer here. A little farther on is the village of
Varzahan which possesses some very interesting ruins of mediæval
Armenian edifices of elaborate designs.
Our way now lies over granite mountains, wild and bare, though with
some elements of grandeur about them. Large flocks of broadtailed sheep
are feeding in the narrow valleys as we carefully pick our way along
the road which is hardly more than a mountain path. The first view of
the sea after crossing the chill, bleak mountains that divide Armenia
from the coast, has a most inspiring effect. Away to the northeast
rise the snow capped mountains of Lazistan, and completing all,
the expanse of the soft, blue Euxine.
Our ride is now along terrace paths cut in the forests, everywhere
embowered in trees. Every turn in the road opens up some new vista
of beauty. The Greek villages on the hillsides present a prosperous
appearance and an aspect of comfort. The faces that we see wear the
bright, quick look which characterizes the Greek face. This is in
striking contrast with the careworn look of the people of Armenia,
where even the children had none of the brightness of other children:
the life seemed too hard, the surroundings too dull, the lowering
storms of persecution too near for even the children to smile.
The appearance of Trebizond as we approach it from the east is
singularly pretty. The suburbs, on that side, are the starting places
of the numerous caravans that are fitted out for Persia, then comes
the extensive Christian quarters and the walled town inhabited by
the Turks, which is the site of an ancient Byzantine city.
The total population is estimated at about thirty-two thousand,
of whom two thousand are Armenians, seven or eight thousand Greeks,
and the rest, with but a sprinkling of foreigners are Turks.
The city was glorious in the days of Tamerlane. Ancient writers were
enthusiastic in their praises of its lofty towers, of the churches
and monasteries in the suburbs; especially charming were its gardens
and orchards and olive groves which the delightful but humid climate
is so well suited to foster. Nature lovingly smiles upon it still,
but the handful of scattered Christians, the ruins of stately churches
and monasteries and walls all tell the same story of the conquest and
heartless rule of the Turk, and emphasize with silent but pathetic
eloquence the moaning cry for deliverance that rose up from prostrate
and bleeding Armenia.
As we have traveled we have seen the helplessness of the unarmed
Armenians when the Kurds went sweeping down the valleys upon the
defenceless villages. How hopeless also any attempt at escape when
the Kurds held possession of all the passes. Saddest of all there
were no cities of refuge for them.
Van alone of all the cities of Armenia was able to resist and drive
back the hordes of mountain warriors, yet her fertile plains were
swept naked of their beautiful villages. Thousands of refugees were,
however, kept alive by the generosity of the tender hearted in America
as the chapter on Relief Work will graphically portray.