CHAPTER XII.

THE REIGN OF TERROR--TREBIZOND AND ERZEROUM.

The Mohammedan populace in all the large cities of Asia Minor were

deliberately inflamed against the Armenians by lying rumors of intended

attacks on the mosques. Soon there was an outbreak at Constantinople

in which nearly two hundred Armenians were killed by the "Softas"

(Moslem students), and by the police.

This was followed by a terrific outburst of fanaticism all over the

Sultan's dominions, the Kurdish Hamidieh were brought into requisition,

and such scenes of massacre ensued as have not been paralleled since

the days of Tamerlane.

Through all the vilayets of Armenia ran the red tide of blood. In

Trebizond, Erzeroum, Erzinghan and hundreds of other cities and

villages the Christians were crushed like grapes during the vintage. In

this work of destruction the Kurds may have been the leaders, but

the Turkish soldiers and civilians did their full share.

For a week prior to the outbreak on October 8, there was great

excitement in Trebizond, and the consuls called in a body upon the

Vali, and urged him to arrest those who were exciting the populace

to deeds of violence. Matters apparently quieted down for a few

days, when, suddenly, like a clap of thunder in a clear sky, the

assault began. Unsuspecting people walking along the streets were

shot ruthlessly down. Men standing or sitting quietly at their shop

doors were instantly dropped with a bullet through their heads or

hearts. The aim was deadly, and there were no wounded men. Some were

slashed with swords until life was extinct. They passed through the

quarters where only old men, women and children remained, killing the

men and large boys, generally permitting the women and younger children

to live. For five hours this horrid work of inhuman butchery went on;

the cracking of musketry, sometimes like a volley from a platoon of

soldiers, but more often single shots from near and distant points,

the crashing in of doors, and the thud, thud of sword blows resounded

on the ear. Then the sound of musketry died away, and the work of

looting began. Every shop of an Armenian in the market was gutted, and

the victors in this cowardly and brutal war glutted themselves with

the spoils. For hours bales of broadcloth, cotton goods, and every

conceivable kind of merchandise passed along without molestation to

the houses of the spoilers. The intention evidently was to impoverish,

and as near as possible, to blot out the Armenians of this town. So

far as appearances went the police and soldiers distinctly aided

in this savage work. They mingled with the armed men and, so far

as could be seen, made not the least effort to check them. To any

found with arms no quarter was given, but large numbers were shot

down without any demand to surrender. One poor fellow when called

on to surrender thought he was called on to give up his religion,

and when he refused he was hacked to pieces in the presence of his

wife and children. Not one of the perpetrators of these outrages was

arrested or disarmed, but all moved about with the utmost freedom to

accomplish their nefarious purposes. On the other hand many of the

Armenians were thrown into prison.

The frantic mob, seething and surging in the streets of the cities,

swept down upon the defenceless Armenians, plundered their shops,

gutted their houses, then joked and jested with the terrified victims,

as cats play with mice. As rapid whirling motion produces apparent

rest, so the wild frenzy of those fierce fanatic crowds resulted in

a condition of seeming calmness, composure, and gentleness which,

taken in connection with the unutterable brutality of their acts,

was of a nature to freeze men's blood with horror. In many cases they

almost caressed their victims, and actually encouraged them to hope,

while preparing the instruments of slaughter.

The French mob during the Terror were men--nay, angels of

mercy--compared with these Turks. Those were not insensible to

compassion; in these every instinct of humanity seemed atrophied or

dead. On the first day of the massacre, an Armenian was coming out

of a baker's shop, where he had been purchasing bread for his sick

wife and family, when he was surprised by the raging crowd. Fascinated

with terror, he stood still, was seized, and dashed to the ground. He

pleaded piteously for mercy and pardon, and they quietly promised it;

and so grim and dry was the humor of this crowd that the trembling

wretch took their promise seriously and offered them his heartfelt

thanks. In truth they were only joking. When they were ready to be

serious they tied the man's feet together, and taunted him, but at

first with the assumed gentleness that might well be mistaken for

the harbinger of mercy. Then they cut off one of his hands, slapped

his face with the bloody wrist, and placed it between his quivering

lips. Soon afterwards they chopped off the other hand and inquired

whether he would like pen and paper to write to his wife. Others

requested him to make the sign of the cross with his stumps or his

feet while he still possessed them, while others desired him to shout

louder so that his God might hear his cries for help. One of the most

active members of the crowd then stepped forward and tore the man's

ears from his head, after which he put them between the man's lips

and then flung them in his face.

"That effendi's mouth deserves to be punished for refusing such a

choice morsel," exclaimed a voice in the crowd, whereupon somebody

stepped forward, knocked out some of his teeth and proceeded to cut out

his tongue. "He will never blaspheme again," a pious Moslem jocosely

remarked. Thereupon a dagger was placed under one of his eyes which

was scooped clean out of its socket. The hideous contortions of the

man's discolored face, the quick convulsions of his quivering body

and the sight of the ebbing blood turning the dry dust to gory mud,

literally intoxicated these furious fanatics, who having gouged out

the other eye and chopped off his feet hit upon some other excruciating

tortures before cutting his throat and sending his soul to "damnation"

as they expressed it. These other ingenious, pain-sharpening devices,

however, were such as do not lend themselves to descriptions.

More than one thousand people perished in Trebizond under similar

tortures who were not more mercifully shot down at once--while many

Armenian women were murdered or kidnapped, and most of the Armenian

houses were burned to the ground; the survivors of the massacres

being driven to the hills and woods to suffer slow starvation.

Equally sad was the fate of the Christians of Baiburt whose tragic

taking off was related in a letter addressed by the survivors to the

Armenian Patriarch at Constantinople. After giving a partial list

of the slain, the writers stated: "When the massacres and plundering

began, on account of the prevailing terror and insecurity, the people

were compelled to close all the churches, shops and schools, and

take refuge in the houses. Letters were sent from our Prelate to the

commandant of the Fourth Army Corps at Erzeroum, and to the Armenian

Prelate at Erzeroum asking assistance; but all our prayers remained

unanswered. After the massacres the Turks advised us indirectly

that the order was secretly given from the Imperial Palace and was

irrevocable!

"The frantic Turkish mob, assisted by regular troops suddenly fell

upon the innocent and unarmed Armenians. The bloody work began at four

o'clock A. M., and lasted until late in the evening. Besides murdering

our people, the mob plundered and fired the Armenian dwellings and

stores, taking care that the Greeks should not be molested. On that

frightful day the Armenian community was almost annihilated.

"Strong men, youths and women, and even babies in the cradles and

unborn children were butchered with most awful savagery. Infants were

stuck on bayonets and exposed to the agonized view of their helpless

and frantic mothers. Young brides and girls were subjected to a

fate far worse than death. No resistance was possible on the part

of the Armenians. All the native teachers with a single exception

were murdered with most cruel tortures. Baiburt became a slaughter

house. Torrents of blood began to flow. The streets and bazaars were

filled with dead bodies. On the following day the Turks did all in

their power to conceal the bodies of those who had been pierced by

bayonets. Similar scenes were enacted in all the surrounding villages.

"Mourning and lamentation prevail throughout Armenia. The churches are

closed; no more can the sound of worshippers be heard. The pealing of

the bells is silent. We have no more teachers to teach the remnant

of Armenians who still live. Rich and poor alike have perished, and

the survivors are in the direst indigence. No bread, no covering for

their nakedness; they are shivering in the cold. Baiburt, until lately

so generous to help others, is now helpless, and in need of moral

and material assistance. Unless such assistance is soon received,

nobody can live.

"After the massacres the government began to arrest the remaining

Armenians who had escaped the slaughter. We hear that in the prisons

the tortures have reached an extreme point of frightful cruelty. Thus

the survivors of the massacre are now dying daily. Every moment we

have the horrors of death."

Turkish duplicity was fertile in its resources. Many documents

were forwarded to the Grand Vizier at Constantinople from scenes of

massacres, purporting to be signed by Armenian nobles, the signatures

having been obtained by intimidation. One of the most remarkable was

from Bitlis, and bore the signatures of thirty-one Armenian nobles. It

proceeds to state that "some of our co-religionists have been deceived

by instigators coming from certain parts, and have been the cause of

deplorable events and have committed crimes contrary to the wishes

of his Imperial Majesty, and against the government of his Imperial

Majesty--a government to be whose subject had been for six hundred

years a title of glory to us, and through whose benevolence we were

enjoying religious liberty and a self-government, the like of which

cannot be found under any administration. This being so there remains

no hope for us but the mercy of our august sovereign, who deigns to

accept all classes of his subjects with a benevolence worthy of the

greatest of monarchs.

"On the other hand, everlasting happiness for us consists in preserving

our national existence in the shadow of the imperial government. We

dare to commend ourselves to the humanity and benevolence of our

sovereign, who is an object of admiration for the whole world, and

we implore his pardon, taking refuge in that heavenly power bestowed

upon him for the pardon of criminals."

Such is an example of similar documents that were drawn up by local

Turkish officials, in fulsome praise of the Porte's humanity, and

which the leading Armenians were compelled to sign, under threats

of imprisonment and torture. These spurious testimonials, like the

manufactured reports of outrages by Armenians, were designed to

influence public opinion in Turkey's favor.

Even the Porte, accustomed to distort facts, found itself no longer

able to conceal from the world the pitiable condition of the Armenians.

In Erzeroum, where a large tract of country, from the lofty mountains

of Devi Boyen to the Black Sea shore was laid waste and completely

purged of Armenians, similar scenes were enacted. The vilayet of Van,

the town of Hassankaleh, and numerous other places were deluged with

blood, and polluted with unbridled lust. A man in Erzeroum, hearing

the tumult, and fearing for his children, who were playing in the

street, went out to seek and save them. He was borne down upon by the

mob. He pleaded for his life, protesting that he had always lived

in peace with his Moslem neighbors, and sincerely loved them. The

statement may have represented a fact, or it may have been but a plea

for pity. The ringleader, however, told him that that was the proper

spirit, and would be condignly rewarded. The man was then stripped,

and a chunk of his flesh cut out of his body, and jestingly offered

for sale: "Good fresh meat, and dirt cheap," exclaimed some of the

crowd. "Who'll buy fine dogs' meat?" echoed the amused bystanders. The

writhing wretch uttered piercing screams as some of the mob, who had

just come from rifling the shops, opened a bottle, and poured vinegar

or some acid into the gaping wound. He called on God and man to end

his agonies. But they had only begun. Soon, afterwards, two little

boys came up, the elder crying, "Hairik, Hairik, (Father, father,)

save me! See what they've done to me!" and pointed to his head, from

which the blood was streaming over his handsome face, and down his

neck. The younger brother--a child of about three--was playing with

a wooden toy. The agonizing man was silent for a second and then,

glancing at these, his children, made a frantic but vain effort to

snatch a dagger from a Turk by his side. This was the signal for

the renewal of his torments. The bleeding boy was finally dashed

with violence against the dying father, who began to lose strength

and consciousness, and the two were then pounded to death where they

lay. The younger child sat near, dabbling his wooden toy in the blood

of his father and brother, and looking up, now through smiles at the

prettily-dressed Kurds, and now through tears at the dust-begrimed

thing that had lately been his father. A slash of a sabre wound up his

short experience of God's world, and the crowd turned its attention

to others.

In Erzeroum about seven hundred houses and about fifteen thousand

shops were plundered. The number of killed was never known, for there

were many strangers in the city. The condition of the people was about

as bad as that of the Sassoun people after the massacre. Between two

thousand and three thousand people were destitute of fuel, bedding and

food, and the majority had only the clothes they had on their backs.

The Government made a show of distributing the plunder collected from

the barracks to the rightful owners, but the attempt was farcical.

The Turks declared that the Armenians made an attack on the Government

House, and so the affair begun. This declaration was absolutely without

foundation. There was no attack even contemplated by Armenians. The

first man shot was an aged priest, who was at the Government House

to present a complaint to the Governor. He had been robbed in his own

house in the village of the Tivnig, and only got off with his life by

giving a note for $500 for five days. He was an inoffensive old man,

and would be the last man in the world to offer an attack. The attack

was made by Moslems after leaving the mosques after the noon hour of

prayer, and it was simultaneous all over the city.

A letter from Erzeroum said: "It is almost impossible for me to

describe that which I have seen and heard. In Gurum everything which

hellish ingenuity can devise has been done by the Turkish soldiers

and Bashi-bazouks. All the Armenian villages are in ashes, and the

smoke which is rising from the ruined houses gives the appearance of

a volcanic eruption. Along the road between Trebizond and Erzeroum,

at every step, mutilated bodies are lying. We are unable to leave

our homes to bury the dead; unable to sleep. The whole city has

taken on the aspect of a wild desert strewn with corpses. Hundreds

of thousands of families are compelled to wander in rags, begging

for their living. The same fate has befallen a few of the Europeans."

The Erzeroum massacre started at the office of the Vali in the

government building. An Armenian priest of Tevnik was in the building

endeavoring to gain an audience with the Vali, when he was shot down

by Turkish murderers. Then followed a horrible saturnalia of carnage,

during which over one thousand Christians were slaughtered. After the

butchery, the dead victims were dragged by the neck and heels into

the cemetery and cast into a long, deep trench, not unlike the death

pit of Geliguzan--the murdered fathers, mothers and sweet, innocent

babes, all calm and peaceful in the sleep of death, flung down like

carrion. Nothing more horrible or more pathetic could be imagined

than that scene at the cemetery two days after the massacre. The

spaces between the poor dead bodies were filled with the skulls and

thigh-bones that had been taken by the sacrilegious Moslems from the

old, upturned graves and then all were covered up together out of

sight. The survivors dared not even express their grief.

Not less shocking was the news that came from Kaisarieh in that part

of Asiatic Turkey known as Cappadocia, where a frightful massacre

of Christians took place, accompanied by the outraging of women and

the looting of the shops and houses. This was done in obedience to

orders from Constantinople. Over one thousand were killed and the

fury of the Kurds, not satiated with slaughter, vented itself in the

mutilation of the inanimate bodies.

An extract from a paper on "The condition of Armenia" by E. J. Dillon

will fitly close this chapter.

"The stories told of these Koordish Hamidieh officers in general,

and of one of them, named Mostigo, in particular, seemed so wildly

improbable, that I was at great pains to verify them. Learning that

this particular Fra Diavolo had been arrested and was carefully

guarded as a dangerous criminal in the prison of Erzeroum, where

he would probably be hanged, I determined to obtain, if possible,

an interview with him, and learn the truth from his own lips. My

first attempt ended in failure; Mostigo being a desperate murderer,

who had once before escaped from jail, was subjected to special

restrictions, and if I had carried out my original plan of visiting

him in disguise, the probability is that I should not have returned

alive. After about three weeks' tedious and roundabout negotiations,

I succeeded in gaining the gaoler's ear, having first replenished

his purse. I next won over the brigand himself, and the upshot of my

endeavors was an arrangement that Mostigo was to be allowed to leave

the prison secretly, and at night, to spend six hours in my room,

and then to be re-conducted to his dungeon.

"When the appointed day arrived the gaoler repudiated his part of

the contract, on the ground that Mostigo, aware that his life was

forfeited, would probably give the prison a wide berth if allowed to

leave its precincts. After some further negotiations, however, I agreed

to give two hostages for his return, one of them a brother Koord, whose

life the brigand's notions of honor would not allow him to sacrifice

for the chance of saving his own. At last he came to me one evening,

walking over the roofs, lest the police permanently stationed at my

door should espy him. I kept him all night, showed him to two of the

most respectable Europeans in Erzeroum, and, lest any doubt should

be thrown on my story, had myself photographed with him next morning.

The tale unfolded by that Koordish noble constitutes a most admirable

commentary upon Turkish régime in Armenia. This is not the place to

give it in full. One or two short extracts must suffice.

"'Now, Mostigo, I desire to hear from your own lips and to write

down some of your wonderful deeds. I want to make them known to the

"hat-wearers."' (Europeans).

"'Even so. Announce them to the Twelve Powers.' (The whole universe).

"There were evidently no misgivings about moral consequences;

no fears of judicial punishment. And yet retribution was at hand;

Mostigo was said to be doomed to death. Desirous of clearing up this

point, I went on:

"'I am sorry to find that you are living in prison. Have you been

long there?'

"'I, too, am sorry. Five months, but it seems an age.'

"'These Armenians are to blame, I suppose?'

"'Yes.'

"'You wiped out too many of them, carried off their women, burned

their villages and made it generally hot for them, I am told.'

"(Scornfully). 'That has nothing to do with my imprisonment. I shall

not be punished for plundering Armenians. We all do that. I seldom

killed, except when they resisted. But the Armenians betrayed me and

I was caught. That's what I mean. But if I be hanged it will be for

attacking and robbing the Turkish post and violating the wife of a

Turkish Colonel who is now here in Erzeroum. But not for Armenians! Who

are they that I should suffer for them?'

After he had narrated several adventures of his, in the course of

which he dishonored Christian woman, killed Armenian villagers,

robbed the post and escaped from prison, he went on to say:

"'We did great deeds after that: deeds that would astonish the Twelve

Powers to hear told. We attacked villages, killed people who would

have killed us, gutted houses, taking money, carpets, sheep and

women, and robbed travelers.... Daring and great were our deeds,

and the mouths of men were full of them.'

"Having heard the story of many of these 'great deeds,' in some of

which fifty persons met their death, I asked:

"'Do the Armenians ever offer you resistance when you take their

cattle and their women?'

"'Not often. They cannot. They have no arms, and they know that even

if they could kill a few of us it would do them no good, for other

Koords would come and take vengeance; but when we kill them no one's

eyes grow large with rage. The Turks hate them, and we do not. We

only want money and spoil, and some Koords also want their lands, but

the Turks want their lives. A few months ago I attacked the Armenian

village of Kara Kipriu and drove off all the sheep in the place. I did

not leave one behind. The villagers, in despair, did follow us that

time and fire some shots at us, but it was nothing to speak of. We

drove the sheep towards Erzeroum to sell them there. But on the way

we had a fight near the Armenian village of Sheme. The peasants knew

we had lifted the sheep from their own people, and they attacked

us. We were only five Koords and they were many--the whole village

was up against us. Two of my men--rayahs [2] only--were killed. We

killed fifteen Armenians. They succeeded in capturing forty of the

sheep. The remainder we held and sold in Erzeroum.'

"'Did you kill many Armenians generally?'

"'Yes. We did not wish to do so. We only want booty, not lives. Lives

are of no use to us. But we had to drive bullets through people at

times to keep them quiet; that is, if they resisted.'

"'Did you often use your daggers?'

"'No; generally our rifles. We must live. In autumn we manage to get

as much corn as we need for the winter, and money besides. We have

cattle, but we take no care of it. We give it to the Armenians to

look after and feed.'

"'But if they refuse?'

"'Well, we burn their hay, their corn, their houses, and we drive off

their sheep, so they do not refuse. We take back our cattle in spring,

and the Armenians must return the same number that they received.'

"'But if the cattle disease should carry them off?'

"'That is the Armenians' affair. They must return us what we gave them,

or an equal number. And they know it. We cannot bear the loss. Why

should not they? Nearly all our sheep come from them.'

"After having listened to scores of stories of his expeditions,

murders, rapes, &c., &c., I again asked: 'Can you tell me some more

of your daring deeds, Mostigo, for the ears of the Twelve Powers?' to

which I received this characteristic reply:

"'Once the wolf was asked: Tell us something about the sheep you

devoured? and he said: I ate thousands of sheep, which of them are

you talking about? Even so it is with my deeds. If I spoke and you

wrote for two days, much would still remain untold.'

"This brigand is a Koord, and the name of the Koords is legion. Ex

uno disce omnes. And yet the Koords have shown themselves to be the

most humane of all the persecutors of the Armenians. Needing money,

this man robbed; desirous of pleasure he dishonored women and girls;

defending his booty, he killed men and women, and during it all

he felt absolutely certain of impunity, so long as his victims were

Armenians. Is there no law then? one is tempted to ask. There is, and a

very good law for that corner of the globe were it only administered;

for the moment he robbed the Imperial post and dishonored a Turkish

woman, he was found worthy of death.

"Laws, reforms and constitutions therefore, were they drawn up by the

wisest and most experienced legislators and statesmen of the world,

will not be worth the paper they are written on so long as the Turks

are allowed to administer them without control."

* * * "Justice in all its aspects is rigorously denied to the

Armenian. The mere fact that he dares to invoke it as plaintiff

or prosecutor against a Koord or a Turk is always sufficient to

metamorphose him into a defendant or a criminal, generally into

both, whereupon he is invariably thrown into prison. In such cases

the prison is intended to be no more than the halfway-house between

relative comfort and absolute misery, the inmates being destined to

be stripped of all they possess and then turned adrift. But what the

prison really is cannot be made sufficiently clear in words. If the

old English Star Chamber, the Spanish Inquisition, a Chinese opium den,

the ward of a yellow fever hospital, and a nook in the lowest depths of

Dante's Hell be conceived as blended and merged into one, the resulting

picture will somewhat resemble a bad Turkish prison. Filth, stench,

disease, deformity, pain in forms and degrees inconceivable in Europe,

constitute the physical characteristics: the psychological include

the blank despair that is final, fiendish, fierce malignity, hellish

delight in human suffering, stoic self-sacrifice in the cultivation of

loathsome vices, stark madness raging in the moral nature only--the

whole incarnated in grotesque beings whose resemblance to man is a

living blasphemy against the Deity. In these noisome dungeons, cries

of exquisite suffering and shouts of unnatural delight continually

commingle; ribald songs are sung to the accompaniment of heartrending

groans; meanwhile the breath is passing away from bodies which had

long before been soulless, and are unwept save by the clammy walls

whereon the vapor of unimagined agonies and foul disease condenses

into big drops and runs down in driblets to the reeking ground. Truly

it is a horrid nightmare quickened into life."

Bleeding Armenia: Its history and horrors under the curse of Islam · 第 12 / 18 章