ALEPPO
In 1893 a plan was developed in the mission to extend our sphere of
labor so as to include the city of Aleppo, which had been occupied many
years before by the mission and then left because of the exigencies of
the work and lack of forces. It was a four days' journey from our
nearest outstation, and hence not easy to care for; but as Tripoli
Station was the nearest part of the mission, Aleppo was placed under our
direction.
Aleppo is one of the largest cities in Syria, and a most important
commercial center. It is nearly the most northern point for the use of
the Arabic language, as Turkish becomes the general medium of
communication one day's journey farther north. Being so near the Turkish
district, there are many Turkish-speaking people in Aleppo, but the
city as a whole is essentially an Arabic-speaking place. The American
Board had a Turkish congregation connected with their mission and
maintained church and school work in Aleppo for the Turkish-speaking
strangers resident in the city. There was the most cordial welcome from
these missionaries to our proposal to organize work for the
Arabic-speaking population. Before making my first visit of supervision
to Aleppo it was arranged by correspondence that Mr. Sanders of Aintab,
the missionary in charge of that district, should meet me and spend
several days in conference as to the arrangement of details of our
interlocking work. It had been proposed most kindly that we should hold
our Arabic services in the premises of the Turkish congregation.
In many ways that first journey to Aleppo was a unique experience. It
was a venture into a region of country wholly new to me, and involved
planning for a new department of service. There were two ways to reach
Aleppo, one wholly by land, involving a somewhat dangerous ride from
Hamath for four days; the other by sea to Alexandretta, and thence by
horseback over a carriage road to Aleppo. It was decided to take this
latter course, though all subsequent visits were made the other way.
After gaining all the information I could before leaving home, I took
the steamer to Alexandretta, where I landed on Monday morning. At once I
began my search for a riding animal, and at length secured a horse
guaranteed to be swift and of easy gait, whose owner promised to see me
in Aleppo by the evening of the third day. Delayed by those who wished
to accompany us, it was past noon before we set out on the road. It was
not long before I discovered that the ease had been left out in the
structure of my horse, and that any speed he may have had once was
well-nigh worn out. It was clear that I should have to work my passage,
but my courage held out.
We pressed up the mountain slope and crossed the ridge in good time,
having many beautiful views back over the dark blue Mediterranean. Mount
Cassius lifted its rocky head five thousand feet, directly out of the
sea, to the south, showing where the Orontes empties into the sea at old
Seleucia. After passing the summit of the range we dropped down rapidly
to the Antioch plain, having the lake of Antioch in full view before us.
By sunset we had reached the place intended as our first halt,
thirty-seven kilometers from the shore. I found no place of
entertainment but a bare inn where I could set up my camp bed and sleep.
There was no food to be had for love or money and so I had to depend on
the scant supplies I had brought with me in my saddlebags.
The second day's ride was much longer than the first, as we kept to the
saddle for twelve hours, notwithstanding the entreaty of my companions
to break the journey earlier. I reminded them of the pledge to reach
Aleppo on the third day, and so kept on until dusk. We had left the
carriage road for a more direct trail and stopped for the night in a
small, desolate village. There was no decent shelter to be found and so
I gladly set up my bed on the threshing floor, and slept under the
starry sky. I inquired for milk, eggs, bread, cheese, anything in the
way of food, offering ample pay for anything edible. After much
persuasion the people were induced to burrow in the straw pile on the
threshing floor from which they produced a watermelon. This was
refreshing at least, and helped to wash down my bread, which was getting
rather dry, as I did not like to use much water in this swampy region.
Long before dawn we were again on the road and pushed steadily ahead
over ridge after ridge, until, in the middle of the afternoon, the city
of Aleppo broke on our sight, a most refreshing vision. In one of the
valleys near Aleppo the traveler cannot fail to notice many heaps of
small stones, evidently placed there to mark certain spots. The place is
called the valley of the slain, and each pile indicates where some
victim has fallen.
The appearance of Aleppo as one approaches it from the west is not
unpleasing, for it is the first well-built town seen after leaving the
coast. The houses are built of white limestone and the gardens about the
city lend a touch of green, most refreshing after the barren country
left behind. At first sight the designation of Aleppo as
Halch-es-Shahba--Aleppo the Gray--seems most appropriate. It is a pity
to detract from the more poetic explanation of the title. Old tradition
says that Abraham had his encampment at the site of Aleppo for a long
time, and was recognized throughout the region for his wealth and
generosity. He had set apart for the use of the poor the milk from a
certain gray cow in his herd, and hence some one was always on the
watch at evening. As soon as the gray cow came forward, this watchman
would shout at the top of his voice, "Haleb es Shahba," which means, "He
has milked the gray cow." Hence the city, which later grew up at this
spot, was called Haleb-es-Shahba, or Aleppo.
I shall never forget a conversation connected with that journey. My
comrades were all Moslems, and as we jogged on, hour after hour, during
those three days, there were opportunities for conversation on many
topics. One day I asked one of them who was a religious teacher, what
his doctrine had to say as to the fate of non-Moslem infants who died in
infancy. I was surprised to find how closely his view parallels our own
Christian view of infant salvation. He answered at once that they are
all saved through the intercession of Mohammed.
On reaching the city I sought a hotel, in order to remove the soil of
travel before hunting up our friends in this strange city. I was in the
midst of making myself presentable when a loud knock at my door was
followed immediately by its opening, and a rough Turkish police officer
made his appearance. Without a word or suggestion of apology, he began a
series of questions as to my name, residence and occupation. I let him
exhaust his list of questions and then asked, as quietly as possible,
whether he would like to look over my Turkish passport, which was
required of all in those days. He seemed to be so completely taken aback
at my evident lack of awe for himself, and surprised to meet a person
who was prepared in accordance with the law, that he could scarcely
stammer out in reply, "Why, have you a passport?" "Certainly," I
replied. "Here it is, with all the information you need." He sat down
most meekly and copied off the items he needed and took his departure in
a really polite manner.
As this was my first visit to Aleppo, everything seemed strange to me,
except in so far as all oriental cities have a measure of resemblance.
As I was met also by Mr. Sanders, a missionary in charge of established
work, I found it natural to expect to be dependent on him for
everything. It came thus as a surprise to have him turn to me, in the
street, to act as interpreter. He spoke Turkish, but my Arabic was far
more necessary and serviceable in general intercourse.
These experiences impressed it upon me most vividly that Aleppo is
thoroughly an Arabic-speaking city, and that the work should be in
organic connection with the evangelical work in other parts of Syria.
The Turkish congregation is a natural member of the Cilicia Union and
should affiliate with the churches of the north, but the Arabic
evangelical work belongs with the organizations under the care of our
mission in Syria. For four years this arrangement was continued and we
maintained Arabic services with a Syrian preacher and a day school with
a Syrian teacher. Each year two missionary visits were made, the
missionaries in Tripoli alternating in this duty. It was difficult to
carry on the work at such long range. In 1897 a heavy cut in our
appropriations made it necessary to consider every possible method of
retrenchment. At the same time the English Presbyterians were opening a
station in Aleppo for work among the Jews, and it seemed best, all
things considered, to ask our English friends to relieve us of this
responsibility, and assume the care of the work for the Gentiles as well
as for the Jews through the medium of Arabic, in Aleppo. Thus our
official connection with the work in Aleppo ceased, but it has never
passed from our minds that some day an Arabic-speaking evangelical
church in Aleppo should become a member of our Syrian Presbyterian
organization. Now that the railroad has brought Aleppo within six hours'
ride from Hamath, the problem has assumed a new form and we may hope
for a renewal of friendly affiliation.
Such a city as Aleppo, with about two hundred and fifty thousand people
and increasing commercial importance, demands much of the missionary
organizations. The famous Constantinople Bagdad railway of the Germans
passes through Aleppo. A branch line connects with the Mediterranean at
Alexandretta. The French system from Beirut ends in Aleppo, giving
direct connection with Damascus, Beirut and Tripoli. The work of the
American Board, being at present in Turkish, reaches only a small part
of the population. The English mission places its emphasis on work for
the Jews and has ample scope in that part of the population. There
remains the vast bulk of the whole population, with Arabic as their
language, looking naturally to the American mission in Syria for help
and guidance. The large Moslem population and the numerous nominal
Christians deserve the attention of a resident American missionary to
organize aggressive and effective work. Shall we wait longer before
pressing on in this direction?
Aleppo has been chosen by the International Committee of the Y.M.C.A. as
a place where a building should be erected and a permanent secretary
established. Should we fall behind the Y.M.C.A.? Whenever the American
Presbyterian Church says the word and furnishes the men and the money, I
am sure the Syrian mission will be ready to send one of its members
forward to this new frontier. God forbid that another quarter century
should pass before this is fulfilled.