families. We had with us all our cattle and all our property. The
first night we reached AU. and slept that night in the fields. The
next day we passed many corpses heaped together under bridges and on
the road; their blood had collected in pools. Probably these were
the Armenians that were killed with the Bishop, for the corpses were
all those of men. We spent the night near AV. in a valley, and that
night we had to drink water polluted with blood. We promised our
guards money if they took us a better road and gave us clean water.
The third day they again made us travel past corpses, and on
Wednesday we reached A.
The same morning the gendarmes that were accompanying us, W. Effendi
and the other Turkish effendis that were with him, put down their
chairs in front of our han, and sat down. Then they turned to us and
told us that they had received telegrams from H., and that instead
of going to Ourfa some of us would go to Yermag and the rest to
Severeg, so that our journey would thus be shortened. “Only it is
necessary,” they added, “that your men should come and register
themselves at the han at A., and state which way they would like to
go. Thank the Sultan, who has made your journey shorter.” After
these words they all clapped their hands and forced us to do the
same. Our men, being simple-minded, were deceived, and they even
left their hats and coats to go to the han in question. None of
those that went returned. Then the rest of those above 16 years of
age and all the old men were arrested and taken to the same place.
After this the gendarmes beat the women and forced them to continue
their journey. The women said: “We will not go unless our men go
with us. You may kill us if you want to.” But the Turkish officials
told us that our men would follow us in a little while, and forced
the women and children to march on, so they marched on crying and
wailing. After half-an-hour’s journey they made us sit in the
fields, and all the Turkish officers returned to A. except one. The
same day some Arab women (that is, Armenian gipsies) brought us
bread, in spite of the officers’ efforts to prevent them, and when
they heard that we were crying because our men had been killed, they
told us that they had seen them all passing by roped together. Again
we went on under the hot burning sun, still crying. The sixth day
they made us stop in a Kurdish village, where we spent the night.
Next morning we saw that all the gendarmes that had returned to A.
had now rejoined the convoy.
Then Gendarme W. Effendi and the other Turks with him beat us and
forced us under threat of death to give them all our money and
ornaments. They said that, if we did not give them up, they would
violate us and exile us to different places. We were afraid, and
gave them everything we had. Then they gave us back from five
piastres (1Od.) to one medjidia (3s. 2d.) each, at the same time
stating that our money and everything else would be returned to us
at Diyarbekir, and that they had only taken our jewellery and money
for safety.
The ninth day, they took us to the top of a mountain, and the same
Effendi and the other gendarmes searched us all over in a shameful
manner; they took all the silk-stuffs and everything else of value
in our clothes and bedding. Half-an-hour later we reached a Kurdish
village. There I met a Turkish soldier from Malatia, called CR.,
whom I knew. He pitied me, and told me that it was all over with us.
“I would advise you,” he said, “to leave your company and look after
yourself.”
We were already within a short distance of Diyarbekir when two
soldiers came from the Governor, to find out where we had been
during the last nine days. Here the gendarmes that were with us took
away all our cows and cattle; they also kidnapped one woman and two
girls. Outside the walls of Diyarbekir, we had to sit in the burning
sun for 24 hours. That same day a number of Turks came from the city
and kidnapped our little girls. Towards evening again we went on,
still crying; more Turks came to carry off our girls and young
brides, and would not let us even open our mouths to protest. Then
we left all our cattle and everything we had, to save our honour and
our lives. It was already night when the Turks from Diyarbekir
attacked us three times and carried off the girls and young brides
who had fallen behind. After this we lost all sense of time. The
next morning again the gendarmes searched us all over, and then made
us march six hours. During these six hours we found no drinking
water, and many women sank on the way from thirst and hunger. The
third day after that they robbed us, and violated us near a place
where there was water. Some days after, two Turks dressed in white
coats followed us, and, every time they had a chance, carried off
still more of our girls. The wife of CS. Effendi from C. had three
daughters, one of whom was married. A coloured gendarme who was with
us wanted to take these girls. The mother resisted, and was thrown
over a bridge by one of the Turks. The poor woman broke her arm, but
her mule-driver dragged her up again. Again the same Turks threw her
down, with one of her daughters, from the top of the mountain. The
moment the married daughter saw her mother and sister thrown down,
she thrust the baby in her arms upon another woman, ran after them
crying “Mother, mother!” and threw herself down the same precipice.
Some said that one of the Turkish officers went down after them and
finished them off. After that Mrs. CS.’s remaining daughter and I
disguised ourselves, and, each taking a child in our arms, abandoned
everything and walked to Mardin. There our party joined us again. We
stayed there eight days. There was an artificial lake there, and
every night they opened the sluices and flooded the ground, so that
in the panic they might kidnap some of the girls. They also attacked
us every night and kidnapped little children. At last, one evening,
they drove us on again and left us among the mountains. They wounded
a woman because she did not wish to give up her daughter. When they
were going to carry off another girl, I asked CT. Tchaoush, a Mardin
man, to help us. He stopped them at once, and did not let them take
her away. He told us to stay there and not to start until further
notice. The Kurds from the surrounding villages attacked us that
night. CT. Tchaoush, who was in charge of us, immediately went up on
to the heights and harangued them in Kurdish, telling them not to
attack us. We were hungry and thirsty, and had no water to drink.
CT. took some of our vessels and brought us water from a long way
off. The wife of my brother-in-law, the tailor CU., had a baby born
that night. The next morning we started again. CT. left some women
with her and kept an eye on her from a distance. Then he put the
mother and the new-born child on a beast, and brought her to us in
safety. Again we marched six hours without water. Here a Turk
kidnapped the son of the woman who had been thrown down the mountain
side. Finally, in the last stages of hunger and exhaustion, we
reached Viran Shehr. Many had already been left on the road.
We had nothing more to eat until we reached Ras-ul-Ain. A fourth
part of our convoy had already perished of starvation. Just before
reaching Ras-ul-Ain we marched through the whole of one night. We
passed three wells choked with corpses up to the brim. The women
that went before us encountered three wounded women who crawled out
of these wells and asked for bread. These three women went on in our
company towards Ras-ul-Ain. Two of them died on the way, and the
third was sent to Der-el-Zor with the convoy. It was here that CV.,
the sister of CW., a girl about 18 or 19 years old, fell down
because she could not walk any further. Her mother and sister-in-law
kissed her, crying, and left her. We were forced to leave her by
herself, because the soldiers would not let any one stay behind with
her.
We did not see a single Armenian until we reached Ras-ul-Ain. There
we found many deported Armenians who had come from Erzeroum, Egin,
Keghi, and other places. They were all on their way to Der-el-Zor.
At Ras-ul-Ain we suddenly met CX. Agha of H. He had come from Aleppo
to help us. He wanted to save at least a few of the party and take
them to Aleppo. He advised us to go to the house of CY. Bey, a
Circassian, or to the house of his son-in-law, so that he might
convey us into safety from there. At Ras-ul-Ain a great many of the
Armenians found refuge in the houses of some Tchetchens (a tribe
akin to the Circassians), but afterwards the Government removed them
all from the Tchetchens’ houses to deport them to Der-el-Zor. Only
my batch, consisting of forty-one people, were left in the house of
this CY. Bey, and we were safe here because the Bey and his friends
were Government people. The first moment that we saw CX. Agha we
thought we had seen an angel from Heaven, and cried to him: “CX.
Agha, save us.” When the Tchetchens heard his name, they discovered
that he was an Armenian, and immediately attacked him. He was almost
killed, but withstood them by his bravery and address; he told them
that he had been sent there specially by the Government, and turning
immediately to us, he gave us to understand that those who went to
CY. Bey’s house would be saved.
CX. Agha took the next train and returned to Aleppo. He tried every
means to save us, and after fifteen days he came back. The
Circassians (or Tchetchens) endeavoured to force us to become
Moslems, but we answered them: “We will throw ourselves into the
water and die, but we will not become Moslems.” The Tchetchens were
surprised at these words, and said they had never seen people like
this, so zealous for their honour and their religion and so devoted
to each other. CX. Agha found this out and went to the chief of the
Tchetchens; he bribed him, and then, with superb courage, conducted
us to the railway one by one, the station being about two miles from
where we were. It was Saturday evening when we reached Aleppo. Here
for the first time we met some Armenian soldiers, who were almost
crazy with joy when they saw us. We could hardly believe they were
Armenians, until CX. Agha’s father came after dark with some of
these soldiers, carrying no lights, and took us to the Armenian
Church. There they told us that if the Government should discover us
and inquire how we came, we were to tell them that we had travelled
at our own expense. They immediately brought us bread; we had not
eaten anything for twenty-four hours. There were a number of
deported Armenians in the Church; they came from different places
and had been travelling for four months. They were so exhausted that
about forty of them were dying every day. The priest who performed
the ceremony could not drag himself home. From the deported
Armenians in Aleppo we learned that the husbands of many of the
women had been roped together and taken to Sheitan Deressi (Devil’s
Valley)[90], where they were slaughtered with axes and knives. Here
we gave up all hope of seeing our husbands again, being convinced
that they were all killed. We heard that in some places they made
the Armenians dig their own graves before they killed them. An
Armenian soldier from Tchemesh-Getzak told me that the Turks were
killing the Armenians and throwing them into the Euphrates, when six
of them managed to cross the river and get away, after three days’
journey through country littered with corpses.
On Sunday morning I went to see the American Consul at Aleppo, and
asked him to save me, as I was an American citizen. He asked me
where my papers were. I told him they were taken from me on the way;
I told him all the circumstances, and he promised to help me. I went
to him again the next day and told him how my parents were American
citizens, and my husband also, and how my husband had lived in
America for 18 years; I told him he could prove it by asking the
American Consul at H. or even the Washington Government. After five
days had passed, he sent for me and made me tell my story in the
Turkish language. He put my name in his book, and placed me in his
kavass’s house. Then he gave me a passport and sent me to
Alexandretta in the company of some Russian subjects. We stayed
fifteen days in Alexandretta. From there we reached Alexandria on
board the American cruiser “Chester,” on the 22nd September, 1915.
While I was in Ras-ul-Ain, we saw some Armenian girls in the houses
of some Tchetchens. One of them was married to one of the
Tchetchens. They begged us not to forget them if we were ever saved.
J. Agha’s wife and children reached Ras-ul-Ain. A Kurd came and said
to them: “I am from the village of Karer; you come with me, and I
will take you to Karer until the end of the war.” They believed him,
and went to his house. Afterwards CX. Agha tried to save them, but
they had already gone. H. Agha’s wife and three daughters went to
Der-el-Zor.
The Turkish Government did not provide any food for us on the way;
one day only, at Diyarbekir, they gave us one loaf each, and again
for about eight days at Mardin, but the bread was so hard that it
cut our mouths. The son of Prof. B., his married daughter, and his
future daughter-in-law, as well as the wife and two daughters of Mr.
CZ., reached Aleppo in safety. CC. Agha’s daughter and his little
boy were kidnapped by the Turks. Only two of the boys were left with
the mother, who reached Aleppo safely. Besides the gendarmes,
Kurdish irregulars also followed us on the way, to kill those that
were left behind. The clothes of those who underwent this
deportation were all rotted by the end of the journey, and the
exiles themselves had almost lost their reason. When they were given
new clothes they did not know how to put them on, and when their
hair was washed it came off bodily from their scalps.
69. H.: STATEMENT BY THE PRINCIPAL OF THE COLLEGE, DATED 19th JULY,
1915; COMMUNICATED BY THE AMERICAN COMMITTEE FOR ARMENIAN AND
SYRIAN RELIEF.
I shall try to banish from my mind for the time the sense of great
personal sorrow at losing hundreds of my friends here, and also my
sense of utter defeat in being so unable to stop the awful tragedy
or even mitigate to any degree its severity, and compel myself to
give you concisely some of the cold facts of the past months, as
they relate themselves to the College. I do so with the hope that
the possession of these concrete facts may help you to do something
there for the handful of dependants still left to us here.
_Building.s_—Seven of our big buildings are in the hands of the
Government, only one remaining in our hands. The seven buildings in
question are empty, except for twenty guards who are stationed
there. I cannot tell you exactly the amount of loss we have
sustained in money by robberies, breakages and other means, and
there is no sign that the Turks will ever return these buildings to
us.
_Constituency._—Approximately two-thirds of the girl pupils and
six-sevenths of the boys have been taken away to death, exile or
Moslem homes.
_Professors._—Four gone, three left, as follows:—
Professor A.—Served College 35 years; representative of the
Americans with the Government, Protestant “Askabed,” Professor of
Turkish and History. Besides previous trouble, arrested May 1st
without charge; hair of head, moustache and beard pulled out, in
vain effort to secure damaging confessions; starved and hung by arms
for a day and a night, and severely beaten several times; taken out
towards Diyarbekir about June 20th, and murdered in general massacre
on the road.
Professor B.—Served College 33 years, studied at Ann Arbor,
Professor of Mathematics. Arrested about June 5th, and shared Prof.
A.’s fate on the road.
Professor C.—Taken to witness a man beaten almost to death; became
mentally deranged; started with his family about July 5th into exile
under guard, and murdered beyond Malatia. Principal of Preparatory
Department; studied at Princeton; served College 20 years.
Professor D.—Served College 16 years, studied at Edinburgh;
Professor of Mental and Moral Science. Arrested with Prof. A. and
suffered same tortures; also had three finger nails pulled out by
the roots; killed in same massacre.
Professor E.—Served College 25 years. Arrested May 1st; not
tortured, but sick in prison; sent to Red Crescent Hospital, and
after paying large bribes is now free.
Professor F.—Served College for over 15 years, studied in Stuttgart
and Berlin, Professor of Music. Escaped arrest and torture, and thus
far escaped exile and death, because of favour with the Kaimakam
secured by personal services rendered.
Professor G.—Served College about 15 years, studied at Cornell and
Yale (M.S.), Professor of Biology. Arrested about June 5th, beaten
about the hands, body and head with a stick by the Kaimakam himself,
who, when tired, called on all who loved religion and the nation to
continue the beating; after a period of insensibility in a dark
closet, taken to the Red Crescent Hospital with a broken finger and
serious bruises. Now free.
_Instructors, Male._—Four reported killed on the road in various
massacres, whose average term of service is eight years.
Three not heard from, probably killed on the road; average term of
service in the College, four years.
Two sick in the American Hospital.
One elsewhere.
One, engaged in cabinet work for the Kaimakam, free.
One, owner of house occupied by the Kaimakam, free.
_Instructors, Female._—One reported killed in F.; served the College
over 20 years.
One reported taken to a Turkish harem.
Three not heard from.
Four started out as exiles.
Ten free.
_Total Loss._—About seven-eighths of the buildings, three-quarters
of the students, and half the teaching staff.
Of the Armenian people as a whole we may estimate that three-fourths
are gone, and this three-fourths includes the leaders in every walk
of life—merchants, professional men, preachers, bishops and
government officials. And there is no certainty for those who are
just now free. The Vali has said that _all_ must go. It is only
temporary measures, such as bribes or special favours, that have
secured postponement. Since we know the fate to which they go, since
we have seen the pitiable plight of the stragglers who have survived
the journey from Erzindjan and Erzeroum, since we find ourselves
forbidden to aid them except in insignificant ways, and since we are
forbidden to accompany them to aid them on the way, we are the more
eager, if possible, to save those who are left with us.
It seems to us possible that something can be done to save these
few. Permission has recently been obtained through the German
Embassy for those connected with the German Mission, teachers and
their families, orphans and servants, a circle of several hundred,
to remain in G. I therefore beg of you to take what steps are
possible to secure the permission through our Ambassador for the
handful of dependants still with us to remain in H.
If such permission is not secured, we shall probably be called upon
to see the very members of our households dragged off to decorate
the harems of those who have not as yet secured as many girl slaves
as they wish. Nothing can be done locally. The Kaimakam and his
coterie in H. are more powerful here than the Vali, and take
pleasure in flaunting our impotence in our faces.
I have said enough. Our hearts are sick with these sights and
stories of abject terror and suffering. The extermination of the
race seems to be the objective, and the means employed are more
fiendish than could be concocted locally. The orders are from
headquarters, and any reprieve must be from the same source.
70. H.: STATEMENT BY THE PRINCIPAL OF THE COLLEGE, DATED 19th JULY,
1915, RELATING TO THE DEPORTATION OF ARMENIANS FROM VILLAGES IN
THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF H.; COMMUNICATED BY THE AMERICAN COMMITTEE
FOR ARMENIAN AND SYRIAN RELIEF.
From the village of E., 212 individuals set out, of whom 128 (60 per
cent.) reached Aleppo alive; 56 men and 11 women were killed on the
road, 3 girls and 9 boys were sold or kidnapped, and 5 people were
missing.
From the same place another party of 696 people were deported; 321
(46 per cent.) reached Aleppo; 206 men and 57 women were killed en
route; 70 girls and young women and 19 boys were sold; 23 were
missing.
From the village of D. a party of 128 were deported, of whom 32 (25
per cent.) reached Aleppo alive; 24 men and 12 women were killed en
route; 29 girls and young women and 13 boys were sold; and 18 were
missing.
71. H.: LETTER DATED 10th NOVEMBER, 1915, FROM THE PRINCIPAL OF THE
COLLEGE AT H. TO MR. N. AT CONSTANTINOPLE; COMMUNICATED BY THE
AMERICAN COMMITTEE FOR ARMENIAN AND SYRIAN RELIEF.
The difficulty of securing local permission to start out for
America, as well as the scarcity of wagons, has delayed our party
for some days. We have been grateful, in the meantime, that we have
heard from you approving our plans. We hope to start in a day or
two. We do not anticipate the journey with relish, but we feel that
it will be better to go now than to wait. I am apprehensive for
those who stay, though nothing definite threatens citizens of our
country at present.
Following your circulars of information as to the attitude of the
authorities at the capital, we opened our girls’ department two
weeks ago, and planned soon to open the boys’ department also. The
registration of the girls reached about 150, of which number about
one-third are in the kindergarten. More than another third are
boarders, mostly those who have been with us from the time school
closed. There are very few day-pupils above primary age.
Last Thursday afternoon, the 4th November, a raid was suddenly made
on the Armenian population. Men, women and children were arrested
that afternoon in G. and taken to the police station. The next
morning the same thing occurred here in H. Most of those arrested in
H. were women and children, and they were nearly all of them
released the same day, when they showed their papers. In G.,
however, many were kept over a day or two and then sent off on the
road, probably to be butchered as other parties had been. The season
is now so late that it is preposterous to suppose a safe journey to
be possible when the exiles are allowed no preparation whatever. By
far the largest number sent off seem to have been from the villages,
where the people were pretty well cleared out. Estimates run as high
as a thousand for those who were sent off in one night.
The panic resulting from this wholly unexpected raid can hardly be
pictured. Those pupils who were coming to us from outside have
stopped coming pretty largely, and many advise us to close the
school. Those exiles who had managed in various ways to escape from
the convoys and had settled down to normal life, are now plunged in
terror. We have had to guard our gates and walls to prevent the
public from pouring in on us.
During this recent event the Government has turned its attention to
us once more. On Friday the police came, with a sufficient force, to
arrest all the men on our premises. They were polite, but expressed
the belief that we were hiding many. I went with the handful of men
and boys available, and the next day my brother presented those who
were not in evidence that day, and they were all sent back to our
premises safely. The Commandant personally asked the Consul to write
to us and warn us against harbouring any fugitives in our grounds.
We assured him that it had been our settled policy all along to
refuse such requests, and that we had no such persons with us. The
Kaimakam refused to believe that we had no fugitives with us, but I
think he has been persuaded more or less of the truth of this. Two
of our teachers, who live in their own houses off from our compound,
did not appear on Friday before the police. Afterwards, when they
found that the others had been released, they also appeared. They
were then put in prison, where they still remain. One of them, I
hope, will soon be released, but I have fears for the other, because
he was so intimately connected with the former Kaimakam, and there
seems to be evidence against him that he was a tool in securing
bribes for the said Kaimakam—of course under fear of death.
We have had frequent interviews with the Kaimakam and the
Commandant, who is _locum tenens_ for the Vali at present. Both of
them have been courteous, and assure us that there are no further
measures in store for those who have been allowed to stay by order
of the Government. But our faith in such promises has been sadly
shaken this summer. At two different times the Kaimakam has said
that Armenian was no more to be taught in our schools. We have
expressed our desire to make the language of the school English, and
have assured him that we are working to that end.