Mohammed's horse—The Effendi's barley—The road from Tokat
to Sivas—A very pretty girl—Tchiflik—Complaints made
against the Circassians—Highly cultivated soil—The Tchamlay
Bel mountain—A Turk killed—A wonderful gun—Yenihan—The
Yeldez Ermak—The Kizil Ermak—Sivas—A ruined citadel—The
importance of Sivas from a military point of view—My entry
into Sivas—The guard—An Italian engineer—Three American
missionaries—A house pillaged.
The following morning, Mohammed arrived at an early hour, bringing with
him his horse, a wretched brute to look at; he had not a particle of
flesh on his bones, and was half blind with one eye.
"This is my horse, Effendi," said Mohammed proudly; "is he not a
magnificent animal? My having this horse will save the Effendi the
expense of hiring or buying another one."
"I hope that I shall get a baksheesh at Erzeroum," he added.
"Of course," I said; "that is, if the brute reaches Erzeroum. But it
strikes me that you have not been giving him anything to eat lately!"
"No, Effendi, I was afraid that if he looked too well he would have
been taken for the use of the troops; but no one will even glance at
him as he is. He has a wonderful appetite, and will make up for lost
time; no one will recognize him, after he has eaten the Effendi's
barley for a day or two; he will soon be fat and strong."
The road from Tokat to Sivas is a good one for the first few hours. My
friend the engineer's work had been very fairly done; our horses were
able to get over the ground at from five to six miles an hour. The
track led through a succession of hills and valleys. In some places the
engineer had been obliged to cut the road for several hundred yards in
the solid rock.
Presently we passed a small Circassian village. Several good-looking
women, coming to the road-side, offered chickens and geese for sale.
One of the Circassians was a very pretty girl, and would have carried
off the palm amidst many European belles. Her face was not veiled.
There was a great deal of expression in her large, dark eyes. They
flashed excitedly as she sought to induce me to buy her wares.
"I am tired of chicken," I said; "I should like a little meat."
"There is no meat here," replied the girl. "We ourselves live upon
bread and eggs: buy some eggs."
And running back to a house, she brought out about fifty eggs; the
price being eightpence of our money.
Now we came to Tchiflik, an Armenian village. Here there were thirty
houses; and as six hours had sped by since we left Tokat, I determined
to halt for the night, the more particularly as Mohammed's horse showed
unmistakable signs of fatigue.
The Armenian in whose house I stopped, complained of his Circassian
neighbours. According to him, they had hazy ideas as to the difference
between _meum_ and _tuum_. Several cows belonging to the villagers had
recently disappeared. It was strongly suspected that some Circassians
were implicated in the robbery.
The country in the neighbourhood was very highly cultivated. The
farmers' granaries were full of corn. Hundreds of cows and cattle could
be seen grazing along the side of the road.
We arrived at the Tchamlay Bel mountain. As we were ascending a narrow
pass which overhung a steep precipice, the guide, a Zaptieh, observed
that only five days previous a Turk had been killed on this very spot.
It appeared that there was a band of brigands in the neighbourhood.
Five of them had attacked a party of four Turkish merchants, who were
returning from Sivas with, as it was believed, a considerable amount
of gold on their persons. Three of the Turks ran away, leaving their
companion, who showed fight, but was shot down; the brigands had taken
away from him thirty-five liras, besides two horses. An hour later,
when the news was brought to a village, several of the inhabitants
turned out on horseback to pursue the robbers: it was too late, they
had made their escape and carried off the booty.
"Do not be alarmed," said the guide as he concluded his story. "I
am with you; the brigands will be afraid. Look here!" he carefully
unstrapped a long, single-barrelled flint gun from his saddle-bow. The
barrel was tied on to the stock by a piece of string.
"It is a wonderful gun," said the guide. "It belonged to my
grandfather, I once shot a deer with it."
"Was the deer far off?" I inquired.
"Very far," was the reply. "So far," pointing to a rock about 1000
yards from us. It was clear that however well the guide might shoot
with his gun, he was equally good with the long-bow. I began to be a
little doubtful about the story he had just told us of the brigands.
We rested for a while at Yenihan, a large village with 200 houses;
the population is composed half of Armenians and half of Turks. The
Caimacan had gone to the mountains in search of some redif soldiery. He
had experienced considerable difficulty in inducing these men to leave
their homes, and join the army in the field.
There was nothing particular to see at Yenihan. Sivas was only nine
hours distant: I determined to make a long march on the following
day, and give our horses a rest in that city. The track was good.
Ox-carts—the chief means of transporting baggage in this part of
Anatolia—have no difficulty in travelling along the road to the Yeldez
Ermak, a rapid stream which is about seventy yards wide. It is crossed
by a good stone bridge on arches. The river, though fordable in the
winter, would be impassable in the early spring if it were not for the
bridge. It is a tributary of the Kizil Ermak, and meets that stream
about twelve miles S.E. of Sivas. The district is hilly, but is highly
cultivated. In about four hours we reached the Kizil Ermak, a broad,
deep river. It is crossed by a stone bridge. A road on the opposite
bank leads to Divriki.
We did not cross the bridge, but continued on to Sivas, which lay
before us, with a background of rising slopes. A citadel, in a ruined
state, frowned down upon us from the centre of the city.
Sivas, the capital of Armenia Minor, is situated at the head of the
valley of the Halys of the ancients. It is the most important military
position in this part of Turkey. It commands the sole route which
descends with the waters upon the plateau of Asia Minor. Sivas is the
key to the Peninsula on the Asiatic side; the Turks ought to fortify
this place, particularly when they are threatened in Asia Minor by
the Russians. Should the latter succeed in forcing the first line of
defence, consisting of Kars, Ardahan, and Bayazid, and afterwards take
possession of Erzeroum, there will be no other fortified town between
themselves and Scutari.
The governor had sent an officer with some Zaptiehs as an escort
for our party. As we were entering the principal street a servant
approached us with a fine Arab horse, and said that the Pacha hoped
I would honour him by riding his favourite animal to the quarters
prepared for my accommodation. It appeared that the Bey in Angora had
telegraphed to the governor of Sivas about me, hence the preparations
which had been made.
I dismounted from my own quadruped, and mounted the Pacha's horse.
I now found that the stirrup-leathers, even when let out to the last
hole, were much too short, I was sitting with my knees nearly up to my
chin.
The whole population of Sivas had turned out to welcome me to their
city. I should have liked to have made my entry in as dignified a
manner as possible. Dignity soon became out of the question. The Arab
horse, unaccustomed to sixteen stone on his back, began to kick. To
avoid ignominiously coming off, I was compelled to take my feet out of
the stirrups, and ride without these appendages to the saddle.
Luckily the rooms prepared for us were not far distant. On arriving in
a small square, the officers and Zaptiehs halted before a small, but
clean-looking house, which faced the Pacha's residence. On the other
sides of the square were the prison and the barracks. The guard turned
out from the last-named building, and presented arms as we dismounted.
The officer of the escort, taking my hand, led me up a staircase to the
apartment set aside for my accommodation.
Soon after our arrival I was waited upon by an Italian engineer, who
was employed at Sivas by the government. He was the only European
in the city, which contains 7000 houses; however, there were three
American missionaries who had been settled in Sivas for several years
past with the object of making proselytes.
The Italian was accompanied by an Armenian who spoke French. The latter
gentleman was very indignant with the Pacha, who had shut up the shops
belonging to the Christians during the previous week. It appeared that
some of the redif soldiers had pillaged a house in the market-place.
Several hundred more redifs were expected to arrive at Sivas; there
were hardly any regular troops to keep order. The governor had taken
the precaution of closing all the shops belonging to Armenians during
the stay of the redifs in the town. This was a precautionary measure.
It had given great umbrage to the Christians. My visitor loudly
denounced the proceeding.
"Are people ever tortured here?" I inquired.
"No," said the engineer; "the law is, or rather the judges are, much
too merciful. There has been only one execution during the last three
years. The culprit was a soldier; his first wife had been seduced by
a neighbour. He put her away and took another, but at the same time
said to his neighbour, 'If you seduce this woman I will kill you!'
The threat had no effect. The soldier's second wife was treated as the
former one had been: he revenged himself by killing the adulterer; for
this offence he was hanged."
"Are people ever impaled here?" I inquired, still having the two
English priests who wrote some letters to the _Times_ about what they
said they had seen when travelling on the Danube, in my mind's eye.
The Armenian smiled.
"No, not so bad as that. I believe a robber was impaled eighteen years
ago; at all events, there is some tradition to that effect."
Shortly afterwards my visitors left the room.