THE TEMPLE OF THE DEVIL
(SHEIKH ADI)
We have long been partial to pilgrimage. Partly because we love all old
habits. Because "it was so our fathers did in the days of old;" and
because, quite apart from that intrinsically "excellent reason," we have
yet another reason which may well be thought "good enough." We have
found that the original promoters of that pastime were people of
singular discrimination, and endowed with a positive genius for
exploiting attractive resorts. The shrines to which they sent their
penitents are so many realms of delight to the vagrant pleasure-seeker;
and who could pick out for himself a more ideal holiday paradise than
Lourdes or Monserrat or Covadonga or Rocamadour?
We have ranged in quest of palms and scallop shells through the length
and breadth of Christendom, from the Holy Sepulchre in the east to
Santiago de Compostela in the west; and nowhere have we been
disappointed of receiving our temporal reward. Yet we feel it is rather
hard measure to be grudged all ulterior benefits--to be told that,
having roamed "without intention," our spiritual profits are _nil_.
However, such disqualification affords us some compensating latitude. If
our gain be exclusively temporal we can run but little spiritual risk.
The less respectable shrines may prove just as eligible as the orthodox,
and we can visit Mecca and Benares with as much immunity as Rome.
_Flectere si nequeo Superos, Acheronta movebo_; and a call on the witch
of Endor will at least assure us a thrill. In which dangerous frame of
mind it becomes an overwhelming attraction to a professed patron of
pilgrimages, to find himself within easy visiting distance of the only
temple extant which is specifically and avowedly dedicated to the Author
of Evil Himself.
Nearly every form of religion which has yet been known to man seems at
some time or other to have struck root in the soil of Mesopotamia; and
there are but few of the number that have left no stumps or fossils to
remind us of the days when they were yet flourishing in their pride.
Some have bequeathed us the ruins of their temples, their sacrificial
ash heaps, their votive tablets, or the images of their gods. Some
survive but in fragments of fantastic folk-lore, still lingering on
ineradicably as the parasites of more modern creeds. But one of the
oldest and weirdest of all is still a living reality--the religion of
the Yezidis or "Devil-worshippers" who congregate principally in the
_vilayet_ of Mosul.
"Devil-worshippers" they are indeed; for they themselves do not scruple
to admit that the Being whom they seek to propitiate is actually
identical with the _Sheitan_ of the Christians and Moslems and Jews.
But, fortunately for the morals of the neighbourhood, their homage stops
short of imitation. Theirs is a religion of Faith, and not of Works.
They are under no obligation to make evil their good according to the
boast of Milton's Satan; but only to "respect the great place" of their
Divinity, and see to it that he is "sometime honoured for his burning
throne."
Thus, though they are accused of many enormities,[41] it does not appear
that they are actually worse in theory, or half so vicious in practice,
as many of the most blameless of their "true-believing" neighbours: and
"good Christian men who are stable in the faith" may adventure
themselves into their Vale of Devils with no more material misgivings
than worthy Sir John Mandeville of old.
The Yezidis form one of the recognized _millets_, or subject religious
sects, existing in the Turkish Empire. But recognition in their case by
no means implies toleration. They are universally abhorred as
outcasts--almost as "untouchables"--like the _cagots_ of the Pyrenees,
or the lowest _pariahs_ of Hindustan. A Christian is a "dog" to a
Moslem, and a Jew ranks many octaves lower; but there is no room on the
chromatic scale to show the position of a Yezidi: he is the sort of
human being that is less regarded than a beast.
A Yezidi crossed our path some five or six miles from Mosul. He gave us
a very wide berth, keeping quite a hundred yards away. But it chanced
that his line lay to windward; and our escort rode at him furiously,
fairly bellowing with indignation. How dared he have the effrontery to
intrude his unclean carcass "betwixt the wind and our nobility?"
And presently another Yezidi actually tacked himself on to our party,
following us (at a very humble distance) for two or three hours along
the road. "It would be a good deed to kill the dog," was our _zaptieh's_
muttered comment; "but while he is under the _Effendi's_ shadow, I
suppose I must let him alone!"
Yet withal there is a spice of fear in the contempt which is felt for
the Yezidis. They are "ower sibb" to the Devil to be quite safe subjects
for abuse. They seem to be regarded in much the same light as witches
used to be by our own seventeenth-century ancestors. It is virtue to
revile and maltreat them: and by daylight, with a sufficient mob to back
you, you may feel secure from their resentment. But it is another matter
altogether to pass their door alone after dark!
The Yezidis form a considerable community numbering in all some 150,000;
for about 500 villages own allegiance to their _Mira_,[42] and there are
many detached colonies residing in alien towns. These villages are
widely distributed--isolated for the most part singly among the
surrounding Kurds and Christians. Some are as far west as Aleppo; some
as far north as Tiflis (where all the town scavengers are Yezidis); some
as far east as Teheran. Their nucleus is in the Sinjar mountains, in the
desert south-west of Mosul; where they are secured from invasion by the
barricades of rock, and the waterless wastes which environ them. But the
central shrine of their faith, the Jerusalem of their vows and
offerings, is the cryptic Temple of Sheikh Adi, hidden just within the
fringe of the northern mountains which overlook the great Mosul plain.
It was late on an autumn evening that we neared the last stage of our
journey thither. We had quitted the plains about mid-day; and our course
had lain for some miles along a sparsely cultivated valley, tucked in
behind the outermost ripple which the mountains fling down upon the
wold. On our right lay this barbican ridge, from the crest of which one
might look forth across all the plain of Tigris; while on our left the
hills rose higher, more rugged and more precipitous--a second, but still
a subordinate, breastwork of the lordly Oberland behind.
Here and there the solitude was punctuated by a squalid Kurdish village
whose inhabitants were thriftily using the tents which had served for
their camps all the summer, to hood in their stacks of fodder against
the expected winter snows. And one of these--Ain Sufni "Shipwell,"--perched
on a traverse of high ground which is piled right across the valley
is pointed out by Yezidi tradition as being the building place of the
Ark. Here the main valley still trends forward; but, as we descended
from the village, our guides doubled back to the left and dived into a
masked ravine which had hitherto lurked invisible behind a shoulder of
the heights.
Wide should be the gate and broad the way which leadeth to--the shrine
of MELEK TAÜS; but the glen in question is shaggy and narrow and
tortuous, tangled with clumps of tamarisk, and cumbered with water-worn
boulders the jetsam of the winter floods. Since noon the sky had been
overcast, and now a dreary drizzle had smudged all the landscape into a
grey monochrome. Our jaded beasts sprawled and stumbled disheartedly
over the wet and slippery stones.
Soon our path began edging up towards a _col_ in the ridge to the right
of us, where a little Kurdish village hung limply over the saddle, and a
curtain of lowering clouds trailed its ragged fringe across the gap. But
just as we started the ascent, we perceived that the true end of the
valley lay round an elbow in the opposite direction; and at its head,
conspicuous against the dark hillside above the trees which lay matted
in the hollow, rose the tall pale cone of a remote and isolated
building--the "Great Mascot" of the Yezidis.[43]
How effectively the stage was set for that last mile of our Black
pilgrimage! Not the least detail seemed lacking to enhance the eeriness
of the scene. The dusk was rapidly lowering, the gorge grew narrower and
deeper; and the gnarled boughs which overhung the pathway turned the
twilight almost into night. A sodden carpet of fallen leaves muffled the
clatter of the horse-hoofs; and no sound was heard but the bubbling of
the rivulet, and the steady plash of the bloated raindrops that had
gathered on the twigs of the trees. High overhead on our right towered
the wan gaunt walls of the Satanic monastery: but not a voice nor a
glimmer of light bespoke the presence of any inmates; and as we stumbled
up the broken stairs, between crumbling walls and under ruinous arches,
we felt like Sintram in his goblin valley or Childe Roland approaching
the Dark Tower.
By the time we had reached the further angle of the building we had
risen to the level of its terraces; and as we wheeled into the little
fore-court, the general uncanniness of our surroundings received its
finishing touch. The gates stood closed before us, and nowhere was there
a sign of any living creature--but in every niche and crevice there
flickered a tiny fairy lamp! The wandering tourist in County Wicklow who
was taken to task by an infuriated landlord for trespassing in the
"Devil's Glen," pleaded in extenuation that he "had never expected to
meet the proprietor;" but to us at this particular juncture, the
apparition of "The Proprietor" would have seemed the most natural event
in the world!
Our retinue appeared less affected. Perhaps they were not so
impressionable; or more probably they confided in our superior magic,
and argued _a La Española_ that we "knew a point more than the Fiend."
Our henchman strode boldly to the gates and hammered upon them lustily.
For some time he woke only the echoes: and when at length a voice
answered, the owner thereof was evidently none too anxious to open. In
this land it is rarely an angel that one entertains unaware after
dark![44] The magic word _Ingiliz_, however, proved a veritable "Open
Sesame." "_Ingiliz!_" repeated the unseen janitor in a tone of delighted
amazement. In a minute the gates creaked open; and a couple of priests
in dirty white gaberdines with scarlet turbans and sashes, grinning all
over their bearded faces, were amiably beckoning us in.
There is indeed good sound policy in the readiness with which the
subject races of Turkey are disposed to welcome a European visitor. His
presence under their roof will certainly secure them from raiding for
that one night at any rate; and the suspicion that they have influential
foreign friends will "increase their name" permanently among their
truculent neighbours, and serve as a sort of protection for several
weeks to come.
A steep and crazy stone staircase turned down just inside the gateway;
but our long-suffering mountain-bred beasts tripped down it as neatly as
rope-dancers. Through a door on our right, as we passed, we caught a
glimpse of the interior of a big vaulted guard room, where a party of
Yezidi men and women were grouped around a blazing bonfire. The ruddy
glare of the flames and the murky smoke-wreaths eddying overhead,
suggested forcibly that these minions of Lucifer were sampling a model
Inferno; but we slipped past their Malebolge unobserved. Our conductors
led us along the lower terrace, and assigned us lodgings in a tower
abutting on the wall of the temple--the chamber (as they informed us)
which was always reserved for the use of the High Priest of their sect,
Ali Beg himself, whenever he paid one of his periodical visits to his
tribal shrine.
It was a good-sized lofty room, roofed with a pointed stone vault: but
it boasted no window; and apparently no chimney, for the fire that was
lit for our benefit soon filled all the space above the level of the
door lintel with a dense and suffocating smoke. To us as we squatted on
the floor this was no particular hardship; but a hand raised overhead
reached into a warm smoky stratum, and if we rose to cross the room we
had to bend double under pain of asphyxiation. The Yezidis seem more
callous to smoke even than the Kurds and Syrians. The latter do
generally provide a hole in the roof above the fire.
The young prior of the monastery, a nephew of Ali Beg, played the part
of host. He had been preferred to his post by his uncle, to whom he pays
a fixed composition (equivalent to £120 _per annum_) for the privilege
of receiving the offerings of the faithful whom he entertains at the
shrine. The entertainment which he provided for us consisted of the
local pancake bread and a big dish of lentils; on which we supped very
composedly, albeit we had no "long spoons." Then followed coffee served
in a brazen jug with a gigantic spout like the beak of a toucan: and,
after a cigarette or two, our host took leave of us; while we and our
_posse comitatus_ disposed ourselves to sleep on the floor.
Our earliest thought the next morning was to inspect the Diabolical
Temple; for the Yezidis, unlike their Mohammedan neighbours, are quite
willing to exhibit their shrine. The sun was rising brightly as we
emerged into the daylight; and the wakening glen in its rich autumn
colouring looked a very different place from the gloomy gully up which
we had crept the night before.
There is no village at Sheikh Adi. The place consists simply of the
temple and its appurtenances, forming, in fact, a monastery, though it
is not actually so called. The buildings hang along the steep brae-side
which forms the left bank of the river; the uppermost tier being notched
deeply into the slope, and the lower terraced out boldly above the
margin of the burn. The temple rises in the centre of the upper tier,
conspicuous for the fluted spires which form the roofs of the
sanctuaries. These fluted conical spires are a distinguishing
characteristic of Yezidi architecture, and their appearance, on any
building is strong _primâ facie_ evidence of Yezidi origin.
All above and around the monastery the hillside is spangled with scores
of rude little oratories, mostly in a ruinous condition. These were
erected sometimes by individual worshippers and sometimes by
communities. The founder of such a chapel is thought to acquire singular
merit; and it is held that, at his death, his chantry will be
transported with him to paradise and serve as his heavenly mansion in
the life to come. A lamp is lit in each of them by the temple priests at
sundown, and at the same time other lamps are lit all over the temple,
thus forming the necromantic illumination which so startled us the
previous night. They only continue burning for about half an hour; but
we chanced to arrive just in time to get the full effect.
Within the main gateway of the monastery a flight of eight or ten steps
leads down into a little sunken quadrangle; and the opposite side of
this is occupied by the façade of the temple--a plain square wall of
ashlar, unpierced by any window, but having a small arched doorway
placed near the corner on the left. Many of the stones in this façade
have queer cabalistic patterns, rudely incised in the surface so as to
leave the device in low relief. The priests insist that these are all
meaningless--mere bits of fanciful ornament introduced by the Christian
builders:[45] but though it is likely enough that the original meaning
of them is forgotten, it is manifestly absurd to pretend either that
they never had any, or that none is attributed to them now. There are no
Christian symbols among them; and the devices which recur most
frequently represent a hatchet and a comb:[46] but the most ominous and
the most prominent of all is the famous Snake, which is carved in relief
on the door jamb, and which receives the peculiar attention of being
kept carefully blacked.
[Illustration: THE YEZIDI TEMPLE AT SHEIKH ADI]
Three or four Yezidi worshippers were making their round of the
quadrangle, prostrating themselves before certain niches and at several
other recognized points. They devoutly kissed the threshold of the door,
and several of the stones in the walls (by no means always the carved
ones), but we did not see any of them pay particular homage to the
snake.
The priests were prepared for our visit, and were waiting at the door to
receive us. They at once admitted us to the temple, first begging us to
remove our shoes. This action is to be regarded as mere politeness, not
as "bowing down in the house of Rimmon;" for it is customary to remove
the shoes in Turkey, even when only entering a room.[47]
The body of the temple consists of twin naves, divided longitudinally by
a pointed arcade, and roofed with two pointed barrel vaults. The general
effect of the architecture is very similar to that of a rude early
thirteenth-century church in the mountain districts of England. The
naves lie due east and west; and possibly this Orientation was
intentional, for certain traces of sun worship do survive in the Yezidi
creed. But more probably the lines of the building were dictated by the
nature of the site, for the longer axis would naturally run parallel
with stream and hill. Moreover any significance that might be attached
to the arrangement is altogether discounted by the fact that the
sanctuary is placed, not at the eastern end, but in the centre of the
northern side. This is a plan which is frequently followed in the more
easterly Christian churches; and which indicates that the builders
adopted as their model, not the Roman basilica, but the Persian Audience
Hall.
[Illustration: AKRA.
From the south-west. The figures are those of Rabban Werda and others of
our suite.
No. 5]
The floor of the southern nave is three steps lower than that of the
northern; and at its western end is a square tank of running water, sunk
below the level of the floor. Ceremonial ablutions have a prominent
place in the ritual of Yezidi worship. There is a second tiny tank in
the quadrangle: and a third (evidently fed by the overflow of the tank
in the nave) just under the south-western angle of the temple, on the
level of the lower terrace. A dwarf wall between the arcade pillars
fences off the central bays of the upper nave, thus enclosing a sort of
presbytery in front of the opening to the sanctuary.
At the eastern end we turned to the left through a door in the northern
wall, and entered the square chamber under the smaller and more easterly
of the two conical spires. From this we passed back into the sanctuary
itself; a larger square chamber, situated under the larger spire, and
thus, placed practically in the centre of the northern nave wall.[48] A
low doorway, closed with an iron grille, opens from the nave into this
sanctuary; and immediately behind the opening stands a sort of ark,
rather smaller than the shrine of St. Alban, and completely shrouded in
red drapery. We were led up to it, but bidden not to touch it: so we
stood round solemnly, and gazed.
"What is in it?" we asked our interpreter, the Syrian Deacon, Werda--a
man of some education, who is generally superior to the superstitions of
his race. But in this Domdaniel of Sorcery even his assurance was
wavering--"I will tell you later," he replied nervously. "I cannot say
it in this place." It was not till we were safe again in the quadrangle
that he approached us with much circumspection, and confided to us in
an awestruck whisper, "the King of the Peacocks is in that big chest!"
_Melek Taüs_, "the King of the Peacocks," is the Yezidi euphemism for
Sheitan; who of course must never be referred to by the latter
disparaging name.[49] His image in the form of a peacock is regarded as
the Yezidi Palladium; and it was his principal image which was kept in
that red-draped shrine.
There are seven images or _s[=a]nj[=a]ks_[50] in the charge of the
Yezidi priesthood. One is always kept at Sheikh Adi; and the rest go on
circuit in the villages, to be exhibited to the faithful, and to receive
the temple tithes.[51] Their progress is somewhat precarious; for the
Kurds (when they can) like to capture them, thus combining pleasure and
profit with a parade of religious zeal. It is probably one of these
_sanjaks_ which is now in the British Museum; and, "if he had guessed
that King George would like it," Mar Shimun "would have been delighted
to make him a present of another," which was known to have been straying
about Tyari a year or two before. The Kurds themselves roundly assert
that they carried off the actual headquarters image when they looted the
temple in 1892; but the priests contend that it had been already placed
in hiding, and that the plunderers found only a dummy. The Kurds would
of course say they took it, even if they did not; and the priests would
equally of course deny it, even if they did. Both alternatives are
equally probable; and the image has always been secreted so jealously
that any identification is impossible.[52] There is therefore nothing to
prevent us from believing whichever we choose.
But although _Melek Taüs_ no doubt is the dominant guardian of Sheikh
Adi, we feel that behind his presentment there broods an older tutelary
shade. For when we quitted the larger sanctuary, and passed back again
into the more eastern one, "Rabbi Mr. Wigram" headed at once for a small
door in a corner, from whence a steep stone staircase plunged down into
the bowels of the rock. A priest had planted himself in front of that
door, making himself as broad as possible, and valiantly trying to mask
it; and when he found concealment impossible, he pointedly bowed us
away. They had shown us the shrine of _Melek Taüs_; but here was
something which they could not show us. Here was one secret of Sheikh
Adi which must be kept inviolate still.
What would they have said, we wonder, had they been told that one of
their visitors had already actually penetrated into that Holy of Holies?
Would they have hailed him as a prophet? Would they have murdered him
for sacrilege? Or would they have compromised matters by flatly refusing
to believe? We discreetly kept our own counsel; but the thing had been
done notwithstanding. And the story of how it happened needs a few
explanatory remarks.
In the year 1892 there came a new _Vali_ to Mosul--a sanguine and active
"Reformer" whose name was Osman Bey. He had set out from Constantinople
equipped with a Radical "Program" and his programme (as is usual with
programmes) was planned on an extensive scale. He had to do just three
things--to cure the Arabs of Nomadism; to make the Kurds pay their
taxes; and finally to induce the Yezidis to discard their heathenish
superstition. The first problem floored him promptly, for the Arabs
decamped to the desert; and the Kurdish chiefs eyed him pretty blankly
when he proceeded to propound Problem II. But when he got to "thirdly
and lastly," and invited their co-operation, the worthy fellows cheered
up amazingly and found things looked feasible after all. Taxation was
much less intolerable when viewed in relation to its context, for the
"Peaceable Persuasion" of the Yezidis would leave them a profit on the
deal.
Accordingly all through the _vilayet_ the unhappy Yezidis were attacked
and plundered; their women were carried into captivity, their men were
tortured and slain. And while the Government troops were ravaging the
plain villages, Sheikh Adi itself (hitherto immune from such
visitations) was completely ransacked by the Kurds. It was not till
after sixteen years that the poor proscribed Yezidis were reinstated.
Until the general amnesty at the revolution they remained in exile from
their shrine. Consequently when "Rabbi Mr. Wigram" visited the place in
1907 he found it only tenanted by the Moslem Mollah in charge.
The Mollah allowed him to go anywhere, scoffing valiantly at Yezidi
superstitions; and through that gloomy doorway the investigator
accordingly went. But afterwards the sceptic admitted that _down there_
he had never ventured; and had never in the least expected to see his
visitor come up again alive!
Unfortunately at the time the searcher failed to realize the unique
nature of his opportunity and consequently did not push his explorations
as thoroughly as he otherwise would. It was very dark down the
staircase, and he was only provided with matches. But it seemed to him
that he had penetrated into a vast natural cavern, teeming with rills of
trickling water--the birthplace of the sacred spring, which feeds the
temple tanks, and forms the main source of the rivulet which flows down
the glen below.
And here, perhaps, we have the key to the time-honoured sanctity of
Sheikh Adi. It was primarily a seat of that fountain worship which is
one of the earliest of all known cults. _Melek Taüs_ himself was but a
later accretion, though now he has usurped pre-eminence; and even yet
his worshippers are half-conscious of a god behind their god. Sacred
fountains by the dozen, and sacred trees by the score, may still be met
with in these outlandish regions. But in Christian and Moslem villages
they are reverenced somewhat shamefacedly. Among the followers of a
lower religion the old superstition has retained a firmer hold.
The Yezidis possess no systematized religion woven by some great teacher
into one harmonious whole. They make shift instead with a bewildering
agglomeration of superstitions pieced together into an amazing
patchwork. The central article of their creed is that propitiation of
the Evil Principle which was originally the conception of the Persian
dualists; but with this is incorporated the world-old Nature worship of
trees and fountains and fire and of all the host of heaven; upon it are
grafted innumerable later doctrines derived from the Jews the Christians
and the Moslems; and apparently it was by the Gnostics that the whole
medley was finally moulded into something approaching its present form.
Their reverence for _Sheikh Shams-ed-din_, the sun, is evinced by the
fact that they daily kiss the ground at the spot where his rays first
rest; that they adore him at rising and setting, and sacrifice white
oxen at his shrine. A somewhat similar homage is also paid to the moon;
and they always bury their dead facing towards the north star. Their
reverence for fountains of water appears in their ceremonial
lustrations, including the baptism of their children in the temple tank
at Sheikh Adi. Fire they so far honour that they deem it impiety to spit
into it; and perhaps a survival of serpent worship may be traced in the
famous black snake.
From the Persians they borrowed the conception of a good and an evil
principle; and probably also their belief in the transmigration of
souls. From the Jews they learned to identify Ahriman, the evil
principle, with Satan; to practise circumcision, and blood offerings,
and other points of the Mosaic ritual;[53] and to reverence the writings
of the Old Testament, which they consider equally authoritative with the
New Testament and the Koran. They share our Christian belief in the
divinity of the Founder of our religion, albeit they consider _Melek
Taüs_ a greater divinity than Him. They respect the Sign of the Cross;
but perhaps not exclusively as a Christian symbol, for the use of that
sign was established even in pre-Christian days. Other tenets they have
borrowed from Islam; for they regard Mohammed as a prophet, and Mecca
as a holy place; and texts from the Koran are engraved on the walls of
their temple. Moreover they hold that their sacred spring is derived
from the well Zemzem, whose waters Sheikh Adi miraculously conducted to
their present fount.
Many points of this weird belief have no doubt been adopted piecemeal,
in the hope of obtaining toleration from their Mohammedan lords. But if
such was their hope it was futile. Their admitted reverence for Sheitan
constitutes an abomination which neither Moslem nor Christian can
condone. Thus their lot has been always oppression and often the
bitterest persecution. How can such a strange compound superstition have
inspired them with their heroic fortitude?
If the truth of a creed can be gauged by the number and constancy of its
martyrs, then the place we should yield to the Yezidis must be one of
the highest of all. Small as their sect has always been, they can count
their martyrs by hundreds of thousands. And seldom indeed has any Yezidi
of full age been known to abjure his religion, either under stress of
torment or through fear of death. The massacre of 1892 was but the
latest (and one of the mildest) of a long list of similar inflictions.
Less than fifty years previously all the Yezidis of the Sheikhan were
driven from their villages by a great irruption of Kurds under the Beg
of Rowandiz, and fled for refuge to Mosul. The flooded Tigris cut them
off; and so many thousands were massacred by their pursuers upon the
site of Nineveh that the principal mound over Sennacherib's palace
acquired the ominous name of Kouyunjik--"the shambles of the sheep." The
tale of earlier massacres runs back to the very dawn of their history.
Even Sinjar has not always proved a sanctuary, though there they have
been less hard pressed.
But still the sect lives on; and (what is stranger yet) it occasionally
attracts proselytes! Why a Christian should turn Moslem, we can
understand--at least he ensures worldly advancement. But what
conceivable benefit can he look to acquire by turning Yezidi? Unless
indeed he is tired of life, and has a conscientious objection to
suicide.
One peculiar privilege, however, has recently been conceded to the
Yezidis. They have gained that exemption from military service which
Kurds and Christians earnestly desire. This was done not exactly in
kindness to them, but more for the comfort of the army. For, about a
dozen times a day, every Moslem is accustomed to "take refuge with Allah
from Sheitan the stoned:" and a Yezidi who hears such blasphemy has a
choice of just two alternatives; either he may kill the blasphemer, or
he may commit suicide himself!
Mohammed in the Koran draws a very emphatic distinction between those
unbelievers who are "men of a book," and those who are not; between the
Christians and Jews, who follow a written revelation; and the idolaters,
who follow tradition alone. The former may be admitted to tribute; but
the latter are expressly condemned to extermination.
Now the Yezidis also are in fact "men of a book;" though this would not
probably be considered much extenuation for "worshipping Sheitan." But
for a very long period they guarded their book so jealously as actually
to invite the pains and penalties of being supposed to have none. Two
sacred books, however, they have; the _Kitab el Aswad_, or Black
Book,[54] dating from about the tenth century; and the _Kitab el Jilwa_,
or Book of Enlightenment, which dates from about the thirteenth; and
from these we are able to gather some of the principal articles of their
creed.
The Yezidis believe in a Supreme Being--Yazdan, "the Most High." But to
Him they pay no worship. He is the Lord of Heaven, and takes no account
of earth. From His name in all probability they derive their own
appellation of Yezidis; though the Moslems (or at least the Shiites)
declare that they inherit it from Yezid ibn Mo'awiya, the murderer of
Hosein, and see in it an additional argument for persecuting them.[55]
From _Yazdan_ emanated seven Great Spirits, of whom _Melek Taüs_ was the
first and most powerful. To him was committed the creation of the world;
and the governance of it for 10,000 years, of which 4000 still remain to
run. _Melek Taüs_ is an evil and a fallen spirit; but not fallen beyond
redemption. He is a sort of celestial Absalom--vicious, tyrannical,
rebellious; but secure of ultimate pardon and rehabilitation. "Shall
there not at length come a time when the Chief of the Archangels shall
be restored to his first pre-eminence? And will he not then be mindful
of the poor Yezidis, who alone of all mankind never cursed him in his
disgrace?"
There is something distinctly quaint in this picture of a reclaimed
Satan, still cherishing a faint grudge against those who denounced him
in his unregenerate days.
_Melek Isa_ (Jesus) is the second of the Great Spirits; and He too shall
reign for 10,000 years when _Melek Taüs'_ reign is done. The story of
His incarnation and passion is accepted as told in the Christian
scriptures; but it is held that this, His first, coming was premature
and that so He failed to break the power of evil. He did not, however,
die upon the Cross, _Melek Taüs_ snatched Him away, leaving only a
phantom in His room.[56]
The Yezidis render to _Melek Isa_ a sort of secondary worship. His reign
is not yet; and being good He is not so formidable as evil. Thus at
their great feast they sacrifice one sheep to Him, while to _Melek Taüs_
they sacrifice seven. _Melek Isa_ is merciful, slow to anger, and of
great kindness, but _Melek Taüs_ is a jealous and exacting god.
Sheikh Adi is a semi-mythical personage who may be described as the
Yezidi Prophet. He is sometimes identified with Mar Adai (St. Thaddeus)
the Apostle of the Christians; but there seems some historical evidence
that he lived in the tenth century, and that he was originally a Magian
who had fled from Aleppo when the Magian cult was suppressed. He was
probably the author or compiler of the sacred books; and is said to have
been the first who taught disciples. According to some traditions he is
considered almost divine; and at the Last Day he will carry all the
Yezidis to heaven in a tray on his head, and pass them through
unquestioned. But according to another legend he was a mere mortal, who
had in life bitter experience of the devilment of his peculiar deity.
For while he was gone on pilgrimage to Mecca, _Melek Taüs_ personated
him among his disciples; dwelling with them, instructing them, and at
last ascending visibly to Heaven. Thus when poor Sheikh Adi returned he
was promptly slain as an impostor; and then _Melek Taüs_, reappearing,
confessed the trick that he had played, and gave orders that the
ill-used devotee was henceforth to be honoured as a saint.
The Yezidis have a regular hierarchy of seven orders of priesthood. They
hold a great annual feast at Sheikh Adi in October; which is continued
for eight days, and is attended by all the faithful who can come. Layard
was present on two such occasions, and shared in the feasting and
merry-making; but no unbeliever has ever been permitted to witness the
rites and ceremonies enacted within the temple itself. Pilgrimage to
Sheikh Adi is incumbent on every Yezidi; but he is not commanded to
pray; and he leaves that duty to his priests. Fasting can also be
performed by deputy; and a group of Yezidis will select one of their
number to do all their fasting for them, confessing to him the acts
which need expiation, and paying him a capitation fee for carrying out
the corresponding penances.
The Yezidis understand the nature of an oath, but the oath must be
properly administered; and, lest any of the sect should appear as
witnesses in our own courts of justice, it may be convenient to state
exactly how the thing is done. A circle is drawn round the man to whom
the oath is propounded, and he is told "All within that circle is the
property of _Melek Taüs_. Now answer falsely if you dare!" One would
have thought that to the Father of Lies falsehood would be the one thing
most pleasing. But apparently when you are put to your purgation it is
most emphatically otherwise. So we may conclude that the Prince of
Darkness is really a gentleman after all.
The distinctive costume of the men consists of white tunic, trousers and
jacket, with a scarlet turban and sash. The women wear the same costume,
except that the tunic is longer and reaches nearly to the ankle; and
they also have an oblong red mantle, draped from the left shoulder under
the right arm.
We quitted Sheikh Adi in the course of the forenoon, the young prior
accompanying us to the monastery gate in order to bid us farewell. He
would accept no payment for our entertainment, representing that it was
the custom of the monastery to keep open house for its visitors;[57] but
"out of love for us he could not refuse" the gift that we proffered
instead. We followed a very steep and rugged pathway, clambering out of
the glen up the hillside immediately opposite; and from the notch at the
summit we got our last view of that unhallowed Hoodoo House, and saw
once more to the southward the ocean-like levels of Mosul.
Being now so deeply entered in devilry we had resolved to top off our
orgy by paying our respects to the Satanic Pontiff, Ali Beg the _Mira_
of the Yezidis, whose home lay close to our road. A descent even rougher
than the ascent led us down to the terrace of heath land from which the
mountains arise; and here, on a sort of cape jutting out over the lower
plain country, we came upon the _Mira's_ castle--a large defensible
house with a walled courtyard. A beautifully clear little river issues
from a spring just above it, and girdles the base of the hill on which
the "castle" stands; and along the banks of the stream lies the Yezidi
village of Baadri, one of their principal settlements in the district of
Sheikhan.
The castle seemed pretty well garrisoned; for plenty of men were in
evidence when we dismounted in the courtyard. But it is only constructed
of _jess_ work; and the cracks which showed conspicuously in the walls
of the _Mira's_ reception room suggested that repairs were getting a bit
overdue.
This _diwan khana_ is a good-sized vaulted chamber; and its whitewashed
walls were scrawled all over with rough pencil drawings of steam-boats
and locomotives; as though the _Mira's_ visitors had been trying to
explain to him the nature of these monstrosities, neither of which can
be seen within a journey of ten days. The room was empty when we
entered, but the _Mira_ appeared almost immediately, and seated us
beside him on the dais at the end.
The High Priest of the Devil is a pronounced Anglophil,[58] a fact which
will doubtless be deemed significant by our country's continental
friends. He is also on terms of traditional amity with Mar Shimun, the
Catholicos of the "Nestorian" Christians; for though the Christians
abhor the "Devil Worshippers" most piously, both _millets_ are driven
into sympathy by the common oppression of the Kurds.
Ali Beg was rather a big man, as men go in the mountain districts;
probably about six feet high, and about forty-five years of age. He wore
a dark brown _abba_ with gold embroidery round the collar; but we could
make out but little of his features, as he kept his face closely muffled
in the folds of his red Yezidi turban. This, however, was not to be
attributed to any desire to imitate the veiled prophet of Khorassan, but
only to the fact that he had a bad cold; an indisposition which had
prevented his intended journey to Mosul. His manner was melancholy and
depressed, as befitted the chieftain of a persecuted people; but perhaps
this also, more prosaically, may be partly attributed to the cold.
He was attended by a Yezidi Sheikh, a very handsome man with a long
black beard, wearing a white turban, and a gown and _abba_ of soft
dove-coloured brown. The _Sheikhs_ are the second order of the Yezidi
hierarchy; the _Cawwals_ or priests forming the third order, and _Pirs_,
_Kuchaks_, _Fakirs_ and _Mollas_ being entrusted with various minor
rites.
The _Mira_ is virtually the Khalif of his _millet_; absolute both
temporally and spiritually--a sort of combination of emperor and pope.
No one dreams of questioning any order of his, or of breathing any
complaint of him to the Government. The _Mira_ can do no wrong. All his
followers' goods are at his disposal. If he claims a woman, she is
yielded to him; if he kills a man, nobody objects. Nay, the very fact of
the _Mira_ having killed him confers on the victim such holiness that he
becomes automatically secure of immediate admission to paradise; and
under such desirable conditions who has any cause to object? The office
of _Mira_ is hereditary, as such offices are in this country; for the
idea of sanctity running in families is common both among Christians and
Kurds. Mar Shimun among the former, and the Sheikhs of Barzan and Neri
among the latter, may be quoted as parallel cases; and the practice has
at least a respectable precedent in the house of Aaron among the
Jews.[59]
Ali Beg is dead since our visit. Dead, by what (for a _Mira_ of the
Yezidis) may be fairly described as "natural death;" for he was just
"murdered by his successor" like any old Irish king. That the succession
should be allowed to go out of the family would be a thing blasphemous
to hint at; but that the rightful heir should seek to accelerate his
accession is only a part of the game. It is a sporting game too; for if
the adventurer fails, he dies himself by torture for sacrilege the most
monstrous. But if he succeeds he is _Mira_, with all the _Mira's_
immunities. His predecessor is promoted to paradise, and he reigns
absolute in his room.
Wherefore, as might well be expected, the _Mira_ is wont to take
precautions; and keeps his potential successors rather studiously at
arm's length. But the heir (in this case his nephew)[60] had this time
taken precautions also; and had escaped across the Russian frontier,
there to watch and bide his time. In the summer which followed our visit
he stole back again from his exile; and fortune favoured his enterprise,
for the _Mira_ fell by his hand. So now there is another _Mira_, the
legitimate ruler of all the Yezidis; and no one will question his
authority--until the end of his reign.
All unsuspicious of the coming tragedy we bade farewell to Ali Beg at
the door of his _diwan khana_; having duly tasted of his hospitality,
and assured each other of our mutual good will. One of his _Leichtach_
escorted us to a point about a mile from the castle, and thence we soon
gained the pathway by which we were to return to Mosul.
We finished this nefarious excursion by lodging in a Yezidi village; for
the whole stage was rather too far to be accomplished in a single day.
And the normal state of relations between "True Believers" and "Devil
Worshippers" was disclosed to us rather instructively when we began
inquiring for bread. Our host denied categorically that there was so
much as a crumb in the village--until (with a good deal of trouble) we
convinced him that we proposed to pay! Apparently it is quite unusual
for anyone to pay anything to a Yezidi. It is a "work of supererogation"
and consequently of the nature of sin. The sight of our money produced
lots of things; but our sulky host was quite spoiled by it. He proceeded
to take offence with us because we did not invite him to dine![61] Thus
Yezidis would seem by nature to be as wicked as workhouse orphans, and
no doubt a little barbarity is essential to keep them in hand.
The fruit of our three days' transgression was revealed to us a little
later, when we found that two of our followers (Moslems too, to make the
crime more heinous) had been obviously indulging in _raki_[62] to
celebrate their return to Mosul. "It is all your fault _Effendim_" they
pleaded when we began to scold them. "It was you who betrayed our
innocence into the abode of _Sheitan_. And lo, this thing has befallen
us. We have touched pitch and are defiled."