A spy—The news from Erivan—The border line—How he passed the
frontier—The Mollahs—A war of extermination preached by them—A
Turkish newspaper—Turks in Asia—Christians in Europe—The
Conference—A Conference in St. Petersburg—The European
Powers dislike Russia—General Ignatieff a judge instead of
a prisoner—The hour for the evening prayer—A Turkish officer
on prayer—His opinion about European Bishops—They eat mutton
every day—A Turkish Captain.
We leave the barracks. A beautiful view extends before us. We look down
upon the red, green, and white plateau which divides us from the Tzar's
dominions. In some places the sun has slightly melted the snow, the
sand is exposed to view; in others, and nearer the lake which lies in
the midst of the plateau, patches of vegetation can be seen. The clouds
which overhung Ararat have been dispelled by the sun: the huge mountain,
enveloped in its white pall, stands out in bold relief.
I now called upon the Pacha. Whilst I was conversing with him, a servant
entered and whispered something in his ear.
"Let the fellow come in," he observed; then, turning to me, he remarked
that a Turk had just arrived from the Russian frontier, and brought the
latest news of the military preparations in Erivan.
For some time past the Russians had prohibited any inhabitant of
Turkey from crossing the border-line. It was difficult to obtain any
authentic information as to the quantity of troops the Tzar's generals
had massed in the neighbourhood. The new arrival succeeded in passing
the boundary-line by saying to the Russian officers that he had been
forcibly enlisted as a soldier, and was a deserter from his regiment.
He had obtained permission to return to Turkey by declaring that he
wished to bring his wife—who lived in a village near Bayazid—to Erivan:
the Russian general had ordered him to obtain as much information as he
could about the strength and disposition of the Turkish forces. He was a
thick-set, sturdy-looking little fellow, with a bull neck and keen grey
eyes; his attire consisting of a blue turban, a yellow shirt, and a pair
of crimson trousers. According to him, the Mollahs were preaching a war
of extermination against the Russians in Persia. However, the natives
of that country were very lukewarm in their friendship to the Turks. It
was not impossible that they would join Russia, or at all events allow
the Tzar's troops to march through their territory in the event of an
offensive movement against Van.
The Pacha took up a Turkish newspaper which he had just received from
Constantinople.
"Listen!" he said. "The man who writes for this paper knows what he is
about."
The article was to the effect that Russia wished to drive the Turks
out of Europe because they were Mohammedans, and because in European
Turkey the Christians were in the majority. "Very good," said the
writer, "let us abandon Europe; but in Asia the Christians are in the
minority. According to the same reasoning, the Russians and English
ought to leave all their Asiatic possessions, and give them up to the
original proprietors of the soil. Our Sultan has no objection to let
every Christian in his dominions leave Turkey and go to Russia; but the
Tzar, on the contrary, he will not let the Mohammedans in his empire
cross the frontier: if they try to do so, he sends his soldiers; they
cut the throats of our co-religionists. A Conference, composed for the
most part of Christians, has been held at Constantinople to inquire
into the way the Sultan treats his Christian subjects. Why should not a
Conference be assembled at St. Petersburg, composed for the most part of
Mohammedans, to inquire into the way the Tartars, Turkomans, and other
inhabitants of Central Asia are treated by the Tzar?"
"Yes," said the Pacha, as he finished reading to me these extracts.
The European Powers dislike Russia, and, although they hate her, and
know that she is the origin of all our difficulties, they are too
timid to allow the fact. What a mockery it must have seemed to the
representatives of England, France, and Germany, to find themselves
sitting in judgment upon Turkey, and General Ignatieff, instead of being
equally on his trial, seated at their side, and a judge instead of a
prisoner! Does it not make you smile to think of it?" added the Pacha;
"how the general must have laughed in his sleeve!"
Another officer entered the room. He had been educated in the military
school at Constantinople. From frequent intercourse with Europeans,
mostly Frenchmen, he had begun to look down upon the religious
observances of his countrymen.
It was about the hour for the evening prayer. The Pacha, Cadi, and
several other Turks commenced performing their devotions, regardless of
the presence of a stranger. The new arrival, the Hungarian doctor, and
myself, remained seated, the former remarking that it was very hard work
praying, at the same time glancing rather contemptuously at his superior
officers.
"Did you not pray when you were at Constantinople?" I inquired.
"Effendi, I did everything _à la Franga_ (in European fashion).
Europeans, from what I could learn, do not pray much."
"Not pray!" I observed; "what do you mean?"
"No, Effendi; the men, I have been told, go to the churches to look at
the women; the women, some to pray, but others to look at the men and
show off their fine clothes the one to the other. Is not that the case
in your country?" he added.
"No. Of course there are exceptions; but the English people as a rule
are religiously inclined."
"Effendi," continued the officer, "I have often heard Frenchmen say
that a Christian ought to be a poor man—that is, if he carried out the
doctrines of his Prophet. But, my friends used to laugh and declare that
their bishops and priests were rich men, and that some of the Protestant
Mollahs were so wealthy that they could afford to keep carriages, eat
mutton every day, and have servants to wait upon them."
"The fact of our bishops and priests eating mutton or keeping carriages
does not make the Protestant religion the less true," I now observed.
"I do not know that," replied the Turk. "If I were to be taught a
religion by a man who did not believe in it himself, or who did not
carry out its doctrines, I should think that I was wasting my time."
The rest at Bayazid had done all our party good. The horses, which were
still very emaciated on account of the long and frequent marches, had
picked up a little flesh. I determined to leave Bayazid and accompany
a Turkish captain who was going through Persia to Van with despatches
for the governor of that town. The officer must have been sixty. He
was quite grey; but, he sat his horse like a centaur, and was more
enthusiastic for the war than any Turk with whom I had previously
conversed.
"You may get killed," I remarked.
"Please God I shall not," was his reply; "others may die, and then there
will be some promotion."